Gregor ValiguraVolkov || Brotherhood || The Tempest
TAKEN | OPEN |
Face-claim: Jon Bernthal Age: 39 Occupation: N/A Nationality/Ethnicity: Russian
PERSONALITY
Enneagram: The Challenger Alignment: Neutral Evil MBTI: ENTP
+ Incorruptable, Principled, Venturesome
- Callous, Caustic, Pugnacious
From a young age, Gregor has always been somewhat of a rebellious, reckless child that enjoyed provoking fights and stirring up trouble. This behaviour reached its peak once he was taken in by the military and trained among his new comrades, topping in what others might call self-destructive tendencies. Along with that, he has always been carrying somewhat of a cynical and bitter attitude towards society and life in general, but paired with a sense of humour — possibly rather bizarre — it made for a person that acted much like a jerk but could be tolerated once you got to know him.His first actual love and later wife was the one to slow Gregor down for a while and heal him from what he has endured. Still, he would not let go of his reckless demeanour completely, but slowly turned into a considerate parent who cared about his wife and son more than his own life. The events of the war and of the aftermath, however, especially with the consequences of the Secret Police trying to recruit him, seemingly destroyed the glimpse of hope and happiness his wife had sown and cherished so carefully.Now, Gregor has turned into somewhat of an irascible person that only ever seems to come to life when in a fight with fists to his nose or stomach. He does not do emotions except for anger, wrath and rage, making his core identity. Underneath it all, however, he never quite let go of his parental instincts and is subconsciously always looking for a family he seeks to protect. Even though he refuses to acknowledge that to himself, this is mostly the reason why he ranked up so quickly in the Brotherhood and makes such a strong commander of support. He subconsciously sees all of his trainees, the people who belong to his syndicate in general, as family and whoever threatens to harm them… well, better think twice if it is worth the trouble.
BIOGRAPHY
Not even born yet, the mention of Gregor only brought up resentment. His father being no less a man than Pyotr Valigura, third Pakhan of the Valigura Bratva, an infamous, old and strong brotherhood, there wasn’t a place in the world for a mistake made by one of Moscow’s most powerful men: a bastard son; a problem originating in a random one-night-stand with a random barista after a random amount of alcohol. So a plan was counted up to clean Pyotr off his mistake before his fellow Valigura could find out. However, as his confidant arrived at the barista’s house to get the job done, nice and quickly, they found it abandoned, the expectant mother having disappeared off the face of the earth, or so it seemed. Her sister-in-law had taken her in while her husband was fighting at the front in the First World War, but knowing that she couldn’t hide from the brotherhood forever, she gave Gregor up for adoption.
The baby boy was taken in by the Volkovs, a family name well-known with his adoptive father a man close to Stalin. His parents never kept it a secret to Gregor that they’d adopted him — even though unaware of his true origins —, but this knowledge didn’t make a change about their family bonds. A few years into his childhood, he was promised to live a comfortable life, enjoying the family’s money and respect. These visions were rapidly shattered, however, when soldiers broke into their home one night, dragging their father away and sending them to Gulag, claiming he’s betrayed the Soviet Union. While Konstantin was eaten up by the shame and hatred for his father, Gregor distanced himself from the latest events.
He wasn’t my father anyway.
However, he couldn’t close his eyes from the truth that the family was left with no money or power, no future for the two boys. His mother, in her despair, sold herself to the men her husband had interacted with, only worsening the life they were forced to lead. Gregor and his younger brother were left to their own demise, somehow had to weave their way through life, until one day they saw the soldiers again.
This time, they were coming for the boys. With tensions rising in Europe and a new war seeming possible only few years after the massive failures in the Russian Empire’s participation in the First World War, the military hungered for new recruits. In memory of the family’s past, the Volkov brothers were to be moulded into perfect little soldiers, cleaning their name under the Soviet flag.
Konstantin had always been more of a reclusive boy who works hard a quiet and stayed out of the trouble for the better part. He had a mission, an aim to achieve: wash himself off of his father’s shame. Gregor, on the other hand, wasn’t driven by anything resembling that honourable motivation. In fact, he didn’t have a clue what to do with his life, was bored to death by everything, and just gasping for a little thrill. He ended up throwing himself head first into conflicts at every chance, more often than not needing his brother to bail him out of the fights again. Early into the training at the military, it was obvious that Gregor didn’t excel at hand-to-hand combat or short ranged weapons. But oh boy, when he first laid hand onto a sniper rifle. Sharpshooting quickly became his speciality. Finally, he was able to define himself over something, distance himself from the others, and so he’d spend hours and hours of practicing until there wasn’t a target he couldn’t hit, no matter the distance, his positioning, its movements or the wind. He also developed quite a fascination for explosives of all sorts — bombs, grenades, mines, missiles — but the rifle would always stay his weapon of choice.
Only two years before the outbreak of the Second World War, Gregor met the love of his life, Ana Matkin. A quick wit embedded into a stunning dark-haired and blue-eyed beauty, she completely threw his world upside-down, and in a head-over-heel decision somewhat mirroring his way of life, they got married and moved in together. By the time, Gregor almost broke contact with his brother. He was finally having it all: a loving wife, an adorable son, a life everyone was striving for. There simply wasn’t a place for Konstantin and the constant reminders of their past.
However, as war broke out, Gregor saw it coming and only waited for the day he and his brother were sent to the front. They fought side by side, had each other’s back, made sure to, one way or another, drag their sibling along and get them to safety. They made quite a team to be reckoned with. Until a mission in Germany went wrong, a trap, perhaps, Gregor doesn’t remember, but they got separated.
Gregor barely made it out alive and back to the camp where he was greeted with a simple “No” to his yet unspoken request. He tried to reason with the officer in charge, screamed at him, shouted, threatened him even, but all he was offered was a trip back to Moscow. Not just once, they told him that Konstantin as probably dead by now and if he wasn’t, God may have mercy on his soul. Gregor refused to let it end this way, and single-handedly slipped back behind enemy lines, only accompanied by a few comrades that couldn’t stand him so much but did it for his brother.
On a mission that should’ve meant certain death for each and every one of the soldiers, they infiltrated the Germans, found out where they were keeping Konstantin and delivered him from captivity. They never talked about what they did to him in those weeks, but he’s never been the same afterwards. Neither was Gregor, though, and when he finally returned to his wife and his son, eight years of age by then, he and Konstantin lost sight of each other and wouldn’t keep up any form on contact in a long while.
Processing the war, Gregor became quieter, calmer, but also more aggressive when provoked. Unable to talk about his emotions and claiming that no one could ever understand him anyway, he bottled up his anger, feeding that swelling hatred inside his stomach over the officer who had let down Konstantin just like that. After all that he’s done for his country. More and more frequently, Gregor would disappear down the basement for a couple hours, punching rough, solid stone walls until his knuckles broke and bled. Now that he’s witnessed it once, he couldn’t make the injustice unseen that loyal Russians like Konstantin and him, who had bled for their country, had to suffer.
Even though he desperately tried to ignore everything politics, the regular reports of how Stalin treated his people, the ones he should actually protect and care for, burnt a mark into Gregor’s heart. Ana was quick to realise the change of mind her husband was going through, trying to silence his rebellious, traitorous remarks about their government, but with no success.
Hardly a year back in Moscow, the secret police, hiding their true identity from him, of course, contacted him with an offer: either join them and go on mission for the Soviet Union in order to stabilise the country and preserve peace, or have them slaughter his wife and his son and all of his beloved ones. If only he knew who he was dealing with, maybe he would have decided differently. But then again, he’s always been somewhat of a bullethead, clinging onto his own principles way too strictly. And perhaps, too, he wanted to dare them to act on their thread.
Well, they did. A couple weeks later after he almost forgot about the strange encounter that had made him laugh for the first time in a long period, Gregor returned home from a run late in the evening and found the remains of his wife spread in their living room; crimson red had soaked into the furniture, covered all of the walls and read a barbaric note on the wall: Save your son.
He’s seen a lot while at the front; comrades carrying their own guts as they stumbled in shock, and others having their skin melting off their faces from the heat of an explosion. It was fair to say he had become inured to horrifying sights, but that scene that was presented to him in his very living room, made him double over and empty his stomach onto the carpeted floor. It was a moment of weakness, bare seconds, but a warrior doesn’t mourn the dead until the war is over. And so he pushed himself onto his feet, went for the sniper rifle he was carefully stowing beneath his bed, and climbed onto his home’s roof. They couldn’t be far, he hoped.
Yet he was surprised when he made out two silhouettes in the dark; a dark figure dressed all in black and his little Tad with his unmistakeable blonde locks being dragged to a car. Having a rough idea just which organisation he was dealing with, Gregor knew what awaited the boy; pain and torture and the fact that he was only nine years old wouldn’t make a difference to his capturers. So he raised the rifle, aimed and felt his finger sliding onto the trigger like it had countless times before. He wasn’t shaking, he wasn’t trembling, he was as calm as he’s trained to be. Gregor exhaled and a shot echoed from Moscow’s walls.
Completely numb, zoned out even, he watched as Tad went down, but much more interesting was the reaction of his capturer. He knelt down, almost as if in despair, hands clenched tightly onto the kid, holding him as he shook, fighting for his last breaths. The man raised his head, staring directly to Gregor’s spot on the roof. And even though he keeps telling himself that his mind must’ve fooled him, Gregor still believes to have seen all too familiar blue orbs reflecting his own pain.
After the events of the night, Gregor ended up where his story had started way back; joining the Bratva for good. He had grown numb to pain and emotions. Only hatred and wrath, bottled up deep inside, kept him going, made him get up the morning. He proved his loyalty and value to the brotherhood not only once or twice, but over and over again until he was promoted to rank 3, training officer. The trainees that had been assigned to work with him, utterly hated every second of it, but he taught them everything he learned from the military, war and his years in the tunnels. If they survived his training, they’d survive anything.
Only a few weeks back, their Pakhan found a special interest in Gregor and shortly after, he was promoted to the position of commander of support. Even though he told him it was the reward for his exemplary qualifications and achievements, Gregor can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to it.