07-27-2018, 10:15 PM
<big>Viktor Lih
</big>
Age: 26
Current residence: Moscow
Occupation: Viktor, or "Vitya" as is his love-name from his parents, is a regular cop, just your run-of-the-mill inspector from CCDPD. He spends his days at the station mostly intercepting transmissions via the micro-bead woven into his uniform, smoking cigarettes, and making that sweet CCD cash.
Vitya doesn't know it yet, but he's joining the domovoi off the books due to an incident in 2046 with monsters that got him noticed. See character history.
Psychological description:
Quiet, modest, restraint. Cool headed under pressure. Admires those who blazed with confidence, power and drive due to his own awkwardness around others. Enjoys a good smoke.
Proud of his work, his place in society; loyal to the CCD. He's interested in, but not quite believes in, strange creatures and loves to read stories.
Physical description:
Hair: white blonde all over, even his eyebrows and eyelashes are so pale they look barely there
Vitya's feline blue gaze is bright, striking even-- but his eyesight is poor in strong light. He often wears sunglasses inside to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lights, much to the consternation of his senior CCDPD officers.
Vitya is pale skinned, lithe and extraordinarily graceful thanks to his years of ballet training. If he didn't join the police force, he could have forged a career as a celebrated dancer.
His refined features are inherited from his Japanese immigrant father. His slenderness and height are from his mother, who worked as an in house fit model for a designer couture house.
Year 2018
Viktor “Vitya” Lih was born to a small, interracial family in the heart of a major port known to the outside world as Sevastopol. Interracial couplings were not uncommon in Lih’s hometown. Consider for a moment, the accessibility and location of the city’s harbors. Its robust economy boosted by foreign trade on the back of the CCD cash. It was a peaceful place, filled with warm summers. Tourists came and spent their credits, often at an unfavorable exchange for CCD credit, at their famed seaside resorts.
Vitya’s father was a trader on a Japanese oil boat who toured all over asia and europe until he settled down here with Vitya's mother, a Russian model turned dancer. It was a summer love which resolved into pregnancy and an unexpectedly happy marriage. They did not have a lot in common except their shared interest in studying archaic lore, texts and histories. When Vitya was young, both his parents would read him bedtime stories of folk legends and mythos from their respective countries.
He was a “half”, mixed genetically and perhaps it was due to this odd recessive gene somewhere Vitya was an albino, colorless except his blue bright eyes and red lips. It was partially due to his unusual looks he was bullied during school. The main reason he’d been bullied was because of his taking ballet at his mother’s insistence.
However, Vitya did not wish to become a dancer.
He moved to Moscow and tested for the CCDPD as soon as he reached the age requirement. It was the only way he knew how to live, to find her.
He remembered when his dream first occurred, then re-occurred from time to time of a Furia. Always the same dream.
Unlike his parents’ stories she was beautiful, not the ugly hag of retribution he'd heard about.
Surrounded by a golden light. It hurt his light-sensitive eyes.
The Furia wore a suit of intricately-worked armor so fine and form-fitting it was dazzling. Beneath the golden plate, she wore a tightly-wound body suit. Her head was covered by a white battle helm. Eyes an impossible green, so fierce and bright Vitya had to look away. She was terrible to look at, her body under its golden armor and clawed gloves incomprehensible to him.
She smiled, looking down at Vitya.
What a terrible smile to behold.
“Let us seek justice and clean this land."
“Yes,” was all he could say. Resentment and vengeance simmered inside him...
When he woke he realized he was weeping, but he didn’t care. Devotion to her kept him true to his sworn duty.
But one day Vitya hoped to find her. He kept looking for signs of her existence. She'd know him.
2046 current day
Vitya rested for five minutes in front of the station, and sat on his own in a doorway, hunched up, hands twitching, smoking a cigarette. There was a taste of bile in his mouth that would not go away, and his eyes kept watering. He was looking for signs of their existence. The monsters. For all the sickness and fear he felt, now more than ever he knew his dream --the only one that mattered-- was right. He just had to be brave enough to look.
“Wha-” Vitya muttered as he got up and crushed the stub underfoot. His unit’s dispatch officer ran up smartly.
“There’s been a disturbance called in at this abandoned nightclub. It’s on your beat, can you go there now?”
Vitya checked his charts. Soric Street was close to the tunnels.
“Clear. Heading for the nightclub on Soric Street, sir.”
The communications officer nodded, and walked back into the station as started speaking quickly into his earpiece as he adjusted the tuning dial. But by then, Vitya was already thumping away down the street toward the underground.
Quick, long strides took Vitya past the city center, through the warrens of its habitats, and into its periphery full of warehouses and seedy clubs. His job was to follow orders and make a good job of it, too. That was a cop’s job. In simple terms. In black and white. That was the duty. And Vitya was nothing if not a slave to duty.
In the dim light of the club, Vitya tripped and fell flat on his face. His pistol bounced away into the shadows. He cursed his stupid self and looked back at what he’d fallen over.
He froze.
He’d tripped over a woman. She was dead, exploded, ripped apart in the club around. Vitya slowly perceived the other bodies in the darkness. Two others, all dead. All women. Dressed as night butterflies, for hire.
“Oh sh-,” he mumbled and reached for his tech wallet. Then he froze again. Above the smell of soot and blood, he could suddenly detect a stink like rancid milk.
He glanced up and saw them slithering toward the bled-out bodies. Though two, they moved sinuously as one. Their eyes no longer human as they sank their human teeth into the female body farthest from him. Feeding on the meat, flesh. Warped.
For a moment, Vitya almost let his camo jacket drop so they could see him. He could kill them while hidden in the shadows. But he knew they would smell him before long. His fear, it was there to keep him on his toes, forcing his stomach to twist. He took a deep breath—the fear deep in his bowels, his gut, his throat.
He’d never believed Rougarou existed. Heard stories, bragging from the other men as they cleaned their kits, but never saw the cannibals for himself. The pair were smartly dressed, and looked like normal people of the functioning society, except the two men were feasting on the dead woman they killed, blood and guts smearing their suits. It was a genuinely terrifying display of speed, hunger and aggression.
Vitya reached for his fallen pistol, but it was too far away. Rolling, he wrenched out his back-up, a long-nose standard issue railgun.
He fired it...
Edited by Lih, Jul 27 2018, 10:32 PM.
</big>
Age: 26
Current residence: Moscow
Occupation: Viktor, or "Vitya" as is his love-name from his parents, is a regular cop, just your run-of-the-mill inspector from CCDPD. He spends his days at the station mostly intercepting transmissions via the micro-bead woven into his uniform, smoking cigarettes, and making that sweet CCD cash.
Vitya doesn't know it yet, but he's joining the domovoi off the books due to an incident in 2046 with monsters that got him noticed. See character history.
Psychological description:
Quiet, modest, restraint. Cool headed under pressure. Admires those who blazed with confidence, power and drive due to his own awkwardness around others. Enjoys a good smoke.
Proud of his work, his place in society; loyal to the CCD. He's interested in, but not quite believes in, strange creatures and loves to read stories.
Physical description:
Hair: white blonde all over, even his eyebrows and eyelashes are so pale they look barely there
Vitya's feline blue gaze is bright, striking even-- but his eyesight is poor in strong light. He often wears sunglasses inside to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lights, much to the consternation of his senior CCDPD officers.
Vitya is pale skinned, lithe and extraordinarily graceful thanks to his years of ballet training. If he didn't join the police force, he could have forged a career as a celebrated dancer.
His refined features are inherited from his Japanese immigrant father. His slenderness and height are from his mother, who worked as an in house fit model for a designer couture house.
Year 2018
Viktor “Vitya” Lih was born to a small, interracial family in the heart of a major port known to the outside world as Sevastopol. Interracial couplings were not uncommon in Lih’s hometown. Consider for a moment, the accessibility and location of the city’s harbors. Its robust economy boosted by foreign trade on the back of the CCD cash. It was a peaceful place, filled with warm summers. Tourists came and spent their credits, often at an unfavorable exchange for CCD credit, at their famed seaside resorts.
Vitya’s father was a trader on a Japanese oil boat who toured all over asia and europe until he settled down here with Vitya's mother, a Russian model turned dancer. It was a summer love which resolved into pregnancy and an unexpectedly happy marriage. They did not have a lot in common except their shared interest in studying archaic lore, texts and histories. When Vitya was young, both his parents would read him bedtime stories of folk legends and mythos from their respective countries.
He was a “half”, mixed genetically and perhaps it was due to this odd recessive gene somewhere Vitya was an albino, colorless except his blue bright eyes and red lips. It was partially due to his unusual looks he was bullied during school. The main reason he’d been bullied was because of his taking ballet at his mother’s insistence.
However, Vitya did not wish to become a dancer.
He moved to Moscow and tested for the CCDPD as soon as he reached the age requirement. It was the only way he knew how to live, to find her.
He remembered when his dream first occurred, then re-occurred from time to time of a Furia. Always the same dream.
Unlike his parents’ stories she was beautiful, not the ugly hag of retribution he'd heard about.
Surrounded by a golden light. It hurt his light-sensitive eyes.
The Furia wore a suit of intricately-worked armor so fine and form-fitting it was dazzling. Beneath the golden plate, she wore a tightly-wound body suit. Her head was covered by a white battle helm. Eyes an impossible green, so fierce and bright Vitya had to look away. She was terrible to look at, her body under its golden armor and clawed gloves incomprehensible to him.
She smiled, looking down at Vitya.
What a terrible smile to behold.
“Let us seek justice and clean this land."
“Yes,” was all he could say. Resentment and vengeance simmered inside him...
When he woke he realized he was weeping, but he didn’t care. Devotion to her kept him true to his sworn duty.
But one day Vitya hoped to find her. He kept looking for signs of her existence. She'd know him.
2046 current day
Vitya rested for five minutes in front of the station, and sat on his own in a doorway, hunched up, hands twitching, smoking a cigarette. There was a taste of bile in his mouth that would not go away, and his eyes kept watering. He was looking for signs of their existence. The monsters. For all the sickness and fear he felt, now more than ever he knew his dream --the only one that mattered-- was right. He just had to be brave enough to look.
“Wha-” Vitya muttered as he got up and crushed the stub underfoot. His unit’s dispatch officer ran up smartly.
“There’s been a disturbance called in at this abandoned nightclub. It’s on your beat, can you go there now?”
Vitya checked his charts. Soric Street was close to the tunnels.
“Clear. Heading for the nightclub on Soric Street, sir.”
The communications officer nodded, and walked back into the station as started speaking quickly into his earpiece as he adjusted the tuning dial. But by then, Vitya was already thumping away down the street toward the underground.
Quick, long strides took Vitya past the city center, through the warrens of its habitats, and into its periphery full of warehouses and seedy clubs. His job was to follow orders and make a good job of it, too. That was a cop’s job. In simple terms. In black and white. That was the duty. And Vitya was nothing if not a slave to duty.
In the dim light of the club, Vitya tripped and fell flat on his face. His pistol bounced away into the shadows. He cursed his stupid self and looked back at what he’d fallen over.
He froze.
He’d tripped over a woman. She was dead, exploded, ripped apart in the club around. Vitya slowly perceived the other bodies in the darkness. Two others, all dead. All women. Dressed as night butterflies, for hire.
“Oh sh-,” he mumbled and reached for his tech wallet. Then he froze again. Above the smell of soot and blood, he could suddenly detect a stink like rancid milk.
He glanced up and saw them slithering toward the bled-out bodies. Though two, they moved sinuously as one. Their eyes no longer human as they sank their human teeth into the female body farthest from him. Feeding on the meat, flesh. Warped.
For a moment, Vitya almost let his camo jacket drop so they could see him. He could kill them while hidden in the shadows. But he knew they would smell him before long. His fear, it was there to keep him on his toes, forcing his stomach to twist. He took a deep breath—the fear deep in his bowels, his gut, his throat.
He’d never believed Rougarou existed. Heard stories, bragging from the other men as they cleaned their kits, but never saw the cannibals for himself. The pair were smartly dressed, and looked like normal people of the functioning society, except the two men were feasting on the dead woman they killed, blood and guts smearing their suits. It was a genuinely terrifying display of speed, hunger and aggression.
Vitya reached for his fallen pistol, but it was too far away. Rolling, he wrenched out his back-up, a long-nose standard issue railgun.
He fired it...
Edited by Lih, Jul 27 2018, 10:32 PM.
Viktor Lih
Officer of CCDPD
Officer of CCDPD