Post by Ivan Braginski on Apr 4, 2011 0:47:55 GMT -5
Ivan Braginski
[/i]
A trail of sickness
Leading to me
If I am haunted
Then you will see
~Opeth[/center]
NAME:[/font] Ivan Braginski
AGE: 18
GRADE: Senior
NATIONALITY: Russian
POSITIVE TRAITS:
- Helpful: Though it's never in a conventional way
- Caring: Mainly only of his siblings
- Protective: Of the very few that get close to him
- Smart: Especially when it comes to the arts
- Friendly: Tends to over do it most of the times
NEGATIVE TRAITS:
- Violently childish
- Bad drunk: Sometimes he'll be depressive, other times violent, and sometimes just a little touchy feely
- Brash
- Depressive: Has episodes of depression
- Lack of Understanding: Doesn't always seem to get that what he is doing is very wrong.
LIKES:
- Snow
- Classical Music/Ballet
- Vodka
- Big Sister
- Sunflowers
DISLIKES:
- Snow Storms
- Too Much Sun
- Younger Sister
- Obnoxious Americans
- Beer
FEARS:
- Losing what he worked so hard to gain.
- Backlash for all the unpleasant things he has done.
out of character
NAME: Gaveedra
OTHER CHARACTERS: No other characters at the moment.
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
[From Nation Corp application in which Ivan suffers from Ultradian Cycling Bipolar Disorder]
The Morning was bright and sunny. Ivan had been in a long streak of positive mood. The new medication that he had been taking seem to be working wonders for him. It couldn't had come at a better time either. Ivan was going to be receiving a sort of evaluation of his latest risk and benefits for the newest situation that the company was going through. He had a great feeling that all had gone well. Especially since he hasn't been wrong, in the slightest, for the past couple of years. Ooh these company, these people, it's like being back in the schoolyard again, dealing with the popular crowds, the trouble makers, all the different groups. It was elementary to Ivan, having been on the negative side of all those groups.
Sitting up on his bed, the Russian stretched his arms high into the air, hearing the bones of his spine crack so deliciously as they freed themselves of the confines of Ivan's curled up sleeping position. Violet eyes looked to the side of him, out to the window, and seeing the sunflowers growing so beautifully on his windowsill. To many, being thirty one years old and not seeing a partner next to them is such a depressing sight, to Ivan, it was welcoming, or, more so, not a thought that ever crossed his mind.
After ten minute of taking in the sunflowers and the warm rays of sun, Ivan finally decided that it was now time to roll out of bed and grab a quick shower, before donning his usual black suit and blood red tie. The shower was quick, never seeing the purpose of being in there for more than fifteen minute. Honestly, he simply could not fathom how someone can take any longer than that in the shower.
With food in his stomach, fully dressed, and hair brushed, Ivan went back to the bathroom to the cabinet there. He grabbed the orange bottles. The one that had his name and birthday on it. The one that told him how many to take for how many times a days, as if Ivan hadn't been following relatively the same routine for over twenty years now. As he held the bottle in his hand, his eyes stared down at the small writing on it. As if this were the first time he was seeing it, he slowly read the words printed on it. Then, the hand with the bottle, slowly rose and placed it back. "No, not today." There was that same cold smile on his lips, the usual sadness in his eyes for a rare moment clouded by the happy sparkle in it. "Today I can handle myself on my own. Today I am normal." With that positive train of thought, Ivan left his home, got into his black Lada C.
The good mood was almost instantly destroyed the moment he arrived at his office. On his desk there was a note from his boss telling him that he wanted to see him at his office immediately. It was common office knowledge that whenever the boss handwrote a note and posted it on your desk, you were in big trouble, if not on the verge of being fired.
Still, as Ivan walked down the long hallway to his boss' office, that smile was still on his face. "Da? You wanted to see me?" He asked after being admitted into the room. "Yes, take a seat, Mr. Braginski."
That was all that Ivan could remember from that conversation. The rest of the day went by as a blur. He had been wrong. He was so certain of this one, but he was completely wrong. How could he be wrong? This situation was like every other that he had dealt with, so why was he wrong?
Ivan quickly began to spiral downwards. Having left the bottle at home, there was nothing to stop him now from either lashing out or looking himself in the bathroom stall again.
The walls felt as if they were closing in on him. The space was getting smaller and smaller. His breathing getting heavier. The suit felt as if it was suffocating him. Tie constricting his windpipes. He needed to get out of there, needed to get to his medication fast, else he will harm himself, harm those around him. He ran. Ran as fast as he could out of there. Out of the building. Out past the parking lot, not bothering with his car. It was not as if he could drive anyway. No no, he would just walk. His home was not that far away.
The Russian's arms were wrapped his tightly around himself as he attempted to stop his shaking. But it was impossible to stop the shakes, he knew that, he knew the shakes would not go away. His eyes were unfocused, yet focused at the same time. He could see everyone staring at him, but could not make out if they were male or female. Wait! Were they even staring at him at all? Are there even people here? Ivan spun around, looking to see if there were people there. "No, no... there is no one here, no one at all...."
"Sir.... hey sir... do you need some help?" That voice! That voice! Where is it coming from. Who was there? No! They are back, those evil, evil voices in his head they were back. Then there was a faint touch to his shoulder. Ivan jumped high. "Sir, are you alright?" There that voice was again. No no, it's not from Ivan's head, it's that man standing before him, asking if he was alright. But where did that man come from!? He was not there when Ivan spun around to see if he was being watched. The voices! They have escaped his mind and manifested into this person. This small person.
"Go away!" Ivan screamed, but did not give the man a chance to run, or maybe the man did not run at all. How foolish, that poor, poor soul. Before Ivan even knew what he was doing, his large hands formed into fists and came crashing down one after another on the man. Beating him over and over. The man flailed and screamed. Punched and kicked. But Ivan was used to the hits or maybe he was simply too far gone, because he did not feel a single hit.
He did feel the next thing though. He felt the taser sink into his skin, shocking him, immobilizing him. Ivan laid on the floor, his eyes darting about, looking at everyone and taking nothing in at all. He tried to move, but his limbs would not listen. Next thing he knew metal cuffs were locked tightly around his wrists, then he was left, none too gently off the ground and shoved into the police car.
Ivan did not know what happened to that man. All he knew was that he was going to jail for a whole year. If it was a year, than the man must be alive, right?
The Morning was bright and sunny. Ivan had been in a long streak of positive mood. The new medication that he had been taking seem to be working wonders for him. It couldn't had come at a better time either. Ivan was going to be receiving a sort of evaluation of his latest risk and benefits for the newest situation that the company was going through. He had a great feeling that all had gone well. Especially since he hasn't been wrong, in the slightest, for the past couple of years. Ooh these company, these people, it's like being back in the schoolyard again, dealing with the popular crowds, the trouble makers, all the different groups. It was elementary to Ivan, having been on the negative side of all those groups.
Sitting up on his bed, the Russian stretched his arms high into the air, hearing the bones of his spine crack so deliciously as they freed themselves of the confines of Ivan's curled up sleeping position. Violet eyes looked to the side of him, out to the window, and seeing the sunflowers growing so beautifully on his windowsill. To many, being thirty one years old and not seeing a partner next to them is such a depressing sight, to Ivan, it was welcoming, or, more so, not a thought that ever crossed his mind.
After ten minute of taking in the sunflowers and the warm rays of sun, Ivan finally decided that it was now time to roll out of bed and grab a quick shower, before donning his usual black suit and blood red tie. The shower was quick, never seeing the purpose of being in there for more than fifteen minute. Honestly, he simply could not fathom how someone can take any longer than that in the shower.
With food in his stomach, fully dressed, and hair brushed, Ivan went back to the bathroom to the cabinet there. He grabbed the orange bottles. The one that had his name and birthday on it. The one that told him how many to take for how many times a days, as if Ivan hadn't been following relatively the same routine for over twenty years now. As he held the bottle in his hand, his eyes stared down at the small writing on it. As if this were the first time he was seeing it, he slowly read the words printed on it. Then, the hand with the bottle, slowly rose and placed it back. "No, not today." There was that same cold smile on his lips, the usual sadness in his eyes for a rare moment clouded by the happy sparkle in it. "Today I can handle myself on my own. Today I am normal." With that positive train of thought, Ivan left his home, got into his black Lada C.
The good mood was almost instantly destroyed the moment he arrived at his office. On his desk there was a note from his boss telling him that he wanted to see him at his office immediately. It was common office knowledge that whenever the boss handwrote a note and posted it on your desk, you were in big trouble, if not on the verge of being fired.
Still, as Ivan walked down the long hallway to his boss' office, that smile was still on his face. "Da? You wanted to see me?" He asked after being admitted into the room. "Yes, take a seat, Mr. Braginski."
That was all that Ivan could remember from that conversation. The rest of the day went by as a blur. He had been wrong. He was so certain of this one, but he was completely wrong. How could he be wrong? This situation was like every other that he had dealt with, so why was he wrong?
Ivan quickly began to spiral downwards. Having left the bottle at home, there was nothing to stop him now from either lashing out or looking himself in the bathroom stall again.
The walls felt as if they were closing in on him. The space was getting smaller and smaller. His breathing getting heavier. The suit felt as if it was suffocating him. Tie constricting his windpipes. He needed to get out of there, needed to get to his medication fast, else he will harm himself, harm those around him. He ran. Ran as fast as he could out of there. Out of the building. Out past the parking lot, not bothering with his car. It was not as if he could drive anyway. No no, he would just walk. His home was not that far away.
The Russian's arms were wrapped his tightly around himself as he attempted to stop his shaking. But it was impossible to stop the shakes, he knew that, he knew the shakes would not go away. His eyes were unfocused, yet focused at the same time. He could see everyone staring at him, but could not make out if they were male or female. Wait! Were they even staring at him at all? Are there even people here? Ivan spun around, looking to see if there were people there. "No, no... there is no one here, no one at all...."
"Sir.... hey sir... do you need some help?" That voice! That voice! Where is it coming from. Who was there? No! They are back, those evil, evil voices in his head they were back. Then there was a faint touch to his shoulder. Ivan jumped high. "Sir, are you alright?" There that voice was again. No no, it's not from Ivan's head, it's that man standing before him, asking if he was alright. But where did that man come from!? He was not there when Ivan spun around to see if he was being watched. The voices! They have escaped his mind and manifested into this person. This small person.
"Go away!" Ivan screamed, but did not give the man a chance to run, or maybe the man did not run at all. How foolish, that poor, poor soul. Before Ivan even knew what he was doing, his large hands formed into fists and came crashing down one after another on the man. Beating him over and over. The man flailed and screamed. Punched and kicked. But Ivan was used to the hits or maybe he was simply too far gone, because he did not feel a single hit.
He did feel the next thing though. He felt the taser sink into his skin, shocking him, immobilizing him. Ivan laid on the floor, his eyes darting about, looking at everyone and taking nothing in at all. He tried to move, but his limbs would not listen. Next thing he knew metal cuffs were locked tightly around his wrists, then he was left, none too gently off the ground and shoved into the police car.
Ivan did not know what happened to that man. All he knew was that he was going to jail for a whole year. If it was a year, than the man must be alive, right?
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