FIRST SERGEANT MIHAI āPUPPYā BALAN Ā· 28 Ā· HEAD AERIAL ENGINEER Ā· SHADOWED COMMANDO Ā· TAKEN
" Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away. Where innocence is burned, in flames. A million miles from home, I am walking ahead; Iām frozen to the bones, I am. A soldier on my own, I donāt know the way. "
+ Loyal, Easy-Going, Compassionate
- Headstrong, Compulsive, Vengeful
THERE IS A WAR OUTSIDE, COME SEE THE BULLETS FLY.
Reporters and politicians would say that the second world war began in September 1939 with bullets flying and countries falling to their knees; but for some, the battle had begun much earlier. Mihai Balan was born in the dead of winter, seconds after another child, Viktor Balan, twins. With this simple biological fact it was easy to understand why the brothers were attached at the hip. Identical in physical terms, the only thing that made them different were their minds. Mihai was quick witted impulsive, able pick apart the problem and put it back together within seconds. Viktor on the other hand was a thinker, taking his time in decision making to make sure that every possible option was considered.
The Balan family lived a modest life on in the Romanian country side, tilling the land and raising cattle to get by. It was a meek existence but the family was a lively one, always seeing the sliver of light in a raging storm. When it seemed the boys were no longer boys, and instead men needing to start their lives and take wives, their father faced an untimely death and their mother welcomed a new life into a time of grief. As Iris Balan took her first breath, Alexander Balan took his last. It was both a joyous time and a forlorn one, but love eclipsed the pain and time continued to move forward.
To make extra money for the family Mihai turned into a gambling man, betting his wages on his own strength and speed. Boxing was his muse and winning was his goal. The bruises and lacerations that decorated his skin like tattoos never seemed to dull his enthusiasm for life, and the Balan name became a well-known one in their town. Ā Somehow, with battered and often fractured hands Mihai still inherited his fatherās keen sense for mechanics. Intensely he would listen to the purr of engines and radios, diagnostics firing through his brain at a mile a minute before a conclusion was reached. A bang here, a loose screw there, or a complete rewiring all around, Mihai could fix any machine set before him and eventually grew bored of fixing and began building instead. At first his contraptions were crude, and with time they became elaborate and something worth selling. He would spend hours designing new things to help the family become more efficient and eventually his talents spread to neighbors and the town, everyone wanting a genuine Balan contraption.
Life seemed alright for the Balanās, but the whispers through town could not be ignored. Hitlerās name was already a household one and his power was like a slowly heated bath. The world would already be boiled to death before they realized the catastrophic evil and unimaginable circumstances were at their back doors.
DO YOU HEAR THE BATTLE CRY?
No one tells you how artificial bullets sound. Maybe if Mihai had known the real thing could sound so fake, he would have acted sooner. It was only the screams of neighbors, the shouts of surprise and pain that woke the Balan family on June 3rd 1939. Darkness had become illuminated by reddish orange flames licking their way up the walls, smoke and soot clinging to their lungs and igniting their throats with an incomprehensible pain. The brothers found each other instantly, weaving through the shadows with a spiritual connection guiding them to one another. The spoke only briefly, devising a plan of action before vanishing back into the smog. Mihai would go find Iris and Viktor would find their mother before meeting outside at the barn.
Somehow Iris was still asleep when Mihai found her. At only four years only she was easily scooped up into his arms and carried outside where clean air awaited them both. Chaos had erupted around them, the town lit ablaze created an imitation sunrise in the distance with firing guns creating the thunder. It seemed like an eternity had passed yet Viktor has still not appeared. Desperately Mihai wanted to charge back into the crippling structure he once called home, but he dared not leave Iris alone, and those crashes of thunderwere only getting closer. For once, a decision did not spark instantly in his mind. Mihai could stay and go looking for his mother and brother, or he could accept the high probability that they were dead and instead take his sister and run. No one tells you how your heart can physically break.
Hours turned into days and eventually days turned into weeks but still they dragged on. With Iris clung to his body, Mihai soldiered on through the country side determined to get her to safety. He was the only thing she had left, and in turn she was the only thing keeping her alive. The summer months meant that the elements were not currently working against them, so hidden groves and grasslands became their hotels for the days, and the stars became their guidance at night. At this time there was no one to trust, the world had turned a blind eye while physical evil manifested its self in the form of a man and in the form of seemingly innocent citizens going about their lives. It was astounding how similar Naziās looked to mothers and grandmothers, fathers and brothers. And though Mihai could easily blend into the Aryan race, compassion was the foundation of his being and now only vengeance filled the cracks in his heart.
Sometime in late July, solace was found. The Balanās had found their way into Greece, a local family opening their home to the destitute travelers that had agony in their eyes. For Iris, she adjusted easily, taking a liking to the generous family and trusting them with only the innocence a four-year-old could muster. For Mihai, the process was slow. He laid wide awake at night by Irisā side, their small amount of belongings ready to go just in case chaos came to steal another life; but it never did. This family, the Rossoās had somehow escaped the troubled times and had no malice in their bones. They heard Mihaiās story and felt sorrow in their hearts, offering the one thing they desperately sought, security.
Only now that his sister had a new place to call home could Mihai address the rage pent up within his soul. His family was everything to him and within an instant they were ripped away. He became withdrawn and vengeful, aching for a way to curve the destructive feeling within his chest. The call to arms was his new beacon of hope. With hardship he left his sister with the Rossos and a charred picture of the entire Balan family. He vowed to return to her no matter the cost.
Though Mihai was eager to shoot, to hear those artificial bullets slice through the flesh of the wicked, his engineering talents did not go unnoticed. With the need for new technology and advanced weaponry, Mihaiās skills were harnessed by the army and did not go unnoticed. He quickly climbed the ranks though no amount of stars and stripes could satisfy him. The routine was numbing and familiar, mechanical parts transported him back to the Romanian countryside with memories sending him into a trance as he crafted new machines out of nothing. It allowed him to somehow shut out the carnage and anarchy the world had erupted into, a gift not soon wasted.
Eventually his grease covered hands would feel the violent vibration of a machine gun within them. They needed men to fight, and Mihai would cure the vengeance in his heart one bullet at a time. His carnality and skill are what landed him within the ranks of the Shadowed Commandos, his loyalty is what would earn him his place.
FACECLAIM: Charlie Hunnam
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