VERRENTENIKOV, stanislav yuri

[stanislav yuri verrentenikov]

VALKYRIECALIFORNIA

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STANISLAV ALEKSANDROVICH VERRENTENIKOV
________________________________________________________________________

INTO THE NIGHT
DESPERATE AND BROKEN
THE BASIC INFORMATION[/center][/font]

SO, TELL ME. WHAT'S YOUR FULL NAME?

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"you have done much of the interviewing of citizens of valkyrie, yes? i assume you have heard my name mentioned once or twice. i'll apologize in advance for my sister's rudeness. my name, however, is stanislav aleksandrovich verrentenikov. i despise my middle name. i wish i had no real connection to my father. yes, that family. people closest to me call me staz.

you've noticed the odd inconsistencies with names around valkyrie, have you? what can you do. people are informal. i'll clarify. many bratva members have altered their names. due to distance with their family, or for protective purposes. i never asked.

i, myself, changed it to 'yuri'. it's a family name, far enough from my father."

AND HOW OLD ARE YOU?

"twenty-four, turned last september."

WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING?

"i honestly have no reason to lie. even the law enforcement here in america know who i am, and my family. it sounds too egotistical for my tastes, but it remains quite true: i am untouchable. i have aleksander and liza verrentenikov's oldest child, and only son. i'm the heir to their entire bratva. my sister, sasha, and i overlook much of the more local business. we're here because some of our members are toeing the line a little too closely."

YOU SEEING ANYONE, OR ARE YOU SINGLE?

"the rules for relationships are complicated. my father made it so. quite personally, i find many of them to be redundant. they are too restrictive and pathetic. i do not care what my people do, as long as they do their job. me, however? no. i am not seeing anyone. a good part of me does not wish to bring anyone into this."

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THE SOUND OF A FIGHT
FATHER HAS SPOKEN
THE PERSONALITY

IF YOU COULD DESCRIBE YOURSELF IN SEVEN WORDS WHAT WOULD THEY BE?

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"like i have made quite clear, i have no reason to lie to you. i do not lie in generally, actually. many people know exactly who i am, and what i will do. most are caught off-guard, since i am not who my father is. i was born and raised with the strongest characteristics of both my parents. i have my father's strength, but my mother's understanding, for example. but no, i am not a clone of them. i am who i am.

most importantly, i want people to know i am a complete character. in no way am i a blind incarnation to carry on my family's legacy. i respect people, and i would appreciate them to do the same. i see no reason to have some sort of monarchy. despite the hierarchy necessary for this bratva to exist, i try my best not to spit on the brigades. it's these five families who have kept us as powerful as we are. i know my role and remain respectful. it's all i ask from others. what you may have already assumed from the other bratva members you have met, this is a solid organization. the way things are done are extremely close to how they were generations previous. my father has made sure it remains this way. i, too, am a traditional human being. i appreciate what has been honoured in the past. how we work is very close to the myths of the italians. most people, especially to media exposure, know their systems. the russians are similar: we follow the traditions. i rarely feel the need to rebuild what is not broken in the first place. that, too say, does not make me a weak individual. if it were not for my iciness, i understand i could be seen as a deplorable creature. while i like to approach the world respectfully, there are certain lines i have drawn in the cement. i have absolutely no issues dealing with those who have exceeded their stay. when something is not done properly, i will do it myself. while not impulsive like sasha can be, there is no hesitation in my work. if the situation turns dark, i can be almost disturbingly violent. i prefer the harsher approach, in fact. but you already knew that. it can be complicated sometimes, finding a good balance. i keep my "people" on a tight leash, but i do so with a soft hand. i give them a chance to explain. while second chances are rarely offered, i never go right for my gun. i am an understanding human being. i can feel their pain, despite doing little about it. i want you to know that, before you make assumptions. the public is unaware, but my bratva's internal affairs are often messier than our external business. it's too bad, because i regard them quite highly. if a line is crossed, there is no going back. i have no qualms dealing with the russians. you have heard the rumours, i am sure. it's happened several times. entire brigades have been massacred and purged because they do not follow my rules. i understand, but i do not forgive. if you shoot someone in the back one time, you will do it again. twistedly enough, i like to send stone cold messages. the novikov's are the greatest example. ekaterina massacred her entire family in order to prove her loyalty. that's what you do here: blood and loyalty. don't take my empathy for softness.

internal affairs are messy. i have my own, of course. my family has a dark past. no, i will not provide details. but you have been respectful thus far. little sasha killed her twin sister, valentina. my mother is dying of huntington's, and my father has spent no time taking care of her. and sometimes, i think i see val standing in the shadows, that grim smile on her face."

WHAT KIND OF THINGS DO YOU LIKE?

"not much, unfortunately. i love my country, russia. i like the cold and tradition that comes with it. i like history. i have never read a law-fiction novel i have not enjoyed; nor a well-made documentary. sadly enough, i like my silly procedural crime dramas. work, of course, comes first. unlike many, i have no issues with my lifestyle. i quite enjoy it, actually. while dealing with these unfortunate internal affairs is less than appealing, every other aspect is good. i like wearing all black, polishing my gun, and handling silver knives. i would say i like sasha, but…well, that's complicated. i love my mother; everyone does. i like plain cheesecake, cheese pizza, the colour blue and watching the olympics. every good russian enjoys hockey. i like sterile environments; my own home looks intimidating. harsh lines, cold surfaces, and the plasma television sasha and i never should have bought. i like routine habits and things to be in order. life is much simpler that way. i like my closest companions, of course, lana in particular. you have probably heard that whole tragic storyline. i like a lot of things, i suppose. just not sure what."

WHAT KIND OF THINGS DON'T YOU LIKE?

"i try not to dwell on the negative. all it does it waste time and get you no where. i do, however, find those people who wear all white to be quite silly. of course i do not approve of crossing any lines, disrespect, and i especially dislike those who forget their place. i treat you with respect, the least you could do is return the favour. while i do not like to have people fear me, there is a twisted attraction to the power. i do not like much of what my father does. don't much like this california weather, either. but what can you do. don't like baseball, the colour yellow, mixed alcoholic drinks, or drug-users. i don't like using an iron fist, but i will. i don't like seeing my family withering away to nothing, thanks to murder, loyalty and that deadly disease. i hate that i'm going crazy, seeing the ghost of my dead sister. she's taunting me. and i don't like that, twice a year, i play the greatest gamble. no one knows why i do it, but it is a habit. i follow my habits."

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY WERE YOUR STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES?

"that's an interesting question. while a grey personality, i find myself to have very black and white rules. i do things in extremes. my self-control is often my strongest attribute. very few things are done on impulse. i take my time with things, exploring an entire situation diplomatically before approaching. it feeds the empathy and respectfulness i pride myself in. emotions rarely rule my actions. even with, say, the silly italians. i do not walk up to them often and shoot them in cold blood, for no reason. logic is essential in my familial role. i like to think my empathy-violence is both a strength and a weakness. very few "top" people in my family's bratva are understanding. they [punish without question. i take complete responsibility - i trained them to do as such. me, as an individual, deal with the darkest of offenders. that is when i offer a chance for explanation. i understand, most often, where they are coming from. there is just no reason to cross the line of loyalty. you could have come to us with your issues. lack of willingness to is what frustrates me most.

weakness? probably that same empathy-violence thing. sasha, especially, points it out. while i rarely let emotions affect my actions, there are certain situations in which i, perhaps, have been too soft. milana lutrova is, after all, still alive. while she is repaying her father's debt, in reality, there is no reason to keep her around. a meaningless messenger, much of my inner circle finds her. it takes much more than one coward to break us. i get that from my mother. it doesn't happen often, but i see her standing behind me when it does. as well…i'm not sure. it is no lie that i play russian roulette twice yearly. the reason behind this is none of your business, i do apologize. but the fact i do this at all could ruin everything. i love sasha, i do. but it would be rather terrifying to see her run the bratva, alone, one day. i haven't died yet."

DO YOU HAVE ANY SECRETS?

"i do not keep secrets. not really. if you wish to know something, you must ask a direct question. i have never appreciate those too cautious to target a topic directly. if you want confirmation, you have to ask. i play russian roulette, as i have already told you. it is a rumour, in no way a lie. most simply like to entertain the mystery of it all. another? my father and i definitely do not get along. while i respect the man, i do not approve of many of his actions. he can be too cold at times. my ugliest days are often good one for him. i hate that he ignored my mother's deteriorating state for so long. now that she is on her deathbed, he is suddenly spending much of his time with her. if he really loved her, he would have supported her in all the years i was. and of course i cannot forgive him for ripping this family apart. that remains a secret, why valentina verrtenentikov mysteriously disappeared. her twin sister murdered her for being a traitor."

WHAT ARE YOU MOST SCARED OF?

"answer here"

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WE WERE THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF PROMISE
WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES
THE HISTORY

TELL ME A LITTLE OF WHAT YOUR FAMILY IS LIKE?

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"contrary to the silly bonfire stories, my upbringing is not icy. on the contrary, there was a decent amount of warmth in my household. before val escaped and my mother began to deteriorate, there were even some smile-worthy memories. my father was rarely around. my sisters were not for several years, spending much of their childhood in france. i was raised into this "life" from the time i could walk. while there was little time for a childhood, i cannot say i was unhappy. my mother provided the love and warmth that my father could not. she approached life with a spirit rarely seen in your typical "russian". whatever that stereotype means. i was raised to be mature far too young; i saw much more than any child should have; i killed too early, tortured too often, and got arrested. but i grew up accepting my life and taking it for the best. now, i have to look at the average life and almost feel sorry for them. my family is powerful, but we have our damages like any family. make no mistake: circumstances are different, issues are the same."

WHO ARE YOUR PARENTS?

"my father is aleksander verrentenikov, fifty-three. he is the pakhan of the verrentenikov bratva, or the russian mafia. nicknamed 'alley cat'. an oddly cold man. no one knows how he fell in love with my mother.

her name is liza verrentenikov, forty-seven. spirited woman, with a warmth unknown to many. she offered the affection to the bratva my father could not. she is dying of huntingtons. no, i will not let you see her."

DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS?

"i do. sasha verrentenikov, twenty-three. the "mad hatter'. name well deserved. she, too, suffers from huntingtons but refuses to acknowledge it. most find her to be my impulsive, trigger-happy partner. i guess that's true. but i know there is more underneath than anyone gives her credit for.

the only no one talks about is her twin sister, valentina. she was most like my mother. she left several years ago. we pretend she never existed; no one dares bring it up. my father has sasha kill her in cold blood in order to prove her loyalty. that should tell you enough."

ANY OTHER RELATIVES CLOSE TO YOU?

"we believe in very small circles. my family, especially, is few and far between. apart from my inner circle, no one is close to me. not even close."

TELL ME THE STORY OF YOUR PAST?

"i've been remarkably open with you thus far, my good comrade. you have a job to do, i understand. the history of my family's bratva, however, extends past that. the secrets of my past are dark. no one but my immediate family knows them. unfortunately, it's going to stay this way. respectfully, of course, you have already spoken to sasha. or the figment of her imagination i refuse to encourage. you know much of the story. i cannot provide many more details. brief and bland. you can fill in the blanks yourself, of course. it's more fun that way sometimes, isn't it?

the verrentenikov's have had a bravta for generations. it has been the most substantial crime family for just as long. i won't lie to you. the power my family has is unrivalled. we have almost complete control over my home country. my mother used to tell me of times the entire soviet union was ours. my mother told me a lot of things. that definitely does not make them true. i have yet to discover the real responsibility my father, aleksander, holds. one day, it will be mine. everyone knows that. when liza, my mother, finally passes, i have no doubt he will fade away to nothing. against my better judgement, i have seen the love he holds for the smiling woman he's long sworn himself to. while the verrentenikov bratva had been the only one for generations, it has been recent times where it has changed the most. after the collapse of the soviet union, there was something one could call a "dark time". we were almost irrelevant. sad to say aleksander verrentenikov had much to do with that.

this will be brief, you must remember that. my parents met in st. petersburg several years before their marriage. i imagine it wasn't love at first sight. in our long history, most matches have been because they need to extend the bloodline. often, no one cares who they boink in order to procreate. they get married, probably just because. i've never paid much attention to the personal lives of the brigades. as long as work is completed, they can do what they wish. regardless, that's what i imagine. liza verrentenikov could not be more different from aleksander. the bratva had reached new levels of power because of him and his distance from….well, everything. my father is not a kind man. his fondness reaches are far as giving his children a second chance to prove loyalty. that's what matters the most: blood and loyalty. loyalty first and foremost. but, my mother is a different story. he used to say she felt the emotion and passion that only degrades an italian. she brought a warmth to the otherwise chilly household i was raised in. no, i have no idea how they fell in love. but i know it was genuine. it still is. he didn't force her; she didn't do it for selfish power. the love shared by my parents is the only pure thing in this story. shortly before he proposed to her, he shared his family secret with her. and you know what she did? my mother smiled and said it was okay. he had a life, and she wanted to be a part of it. it didn't matter what it was, as long as they were together. i think that sold him. i know he smiled the day he could call her his.

they moved to moscow and i suppose she fell into the life easily. people often have told me they loved my mother more than their own. liza brought understanding into the bratva. her coy little smiles made my father pause for a minute. maybe there was more to the story; maybe they deserved a second chance. i almost want to say she brought mercy. i guess she did. we no longer commit senseless murder. even with her fading existence, my father will keep his promise. she always said - to me, my father, val, even sasha - that life was not to be lived blindly. you have to rip off your eyelids and read every word on the page. then you may do as you wish. she understood. she accepted. even when sasha would come home with red stained on her hands, mat would shake her head, ask the reasoning, and help her wash it off. that was life in my home. an odd balance that worked for us. they had children young. first came me, and then twin daughters just a year later. sasha and valentina. they have our father's eyes. that was as far as our bloodline was going to get. things in this bratva are small, exclusive. i think between that, the balance my mother brought, and the isolation from the rest of the world, we managed to grow up.

i guess. no one had a childhood.

i was called the bratva heir from the second i was born. there was no lying - all of "this" would be mine one day. sounds a bit like a medieval phrase. silly. i knew my parents loved us. my sisters were spoiled. nothing was too much. we are not sexist wastes like the italians. woman have a definite role to play in the bratva. it would be a lie, however, to say there is not a certain fondness. even my father would call valentina his "princess". i don't think sasha cared much. she was a wildcard with a broken brain. it's not too much of an issue, as long as she can be controlled. my upbringing was a little different. my father took much more attention to me than he did sasha and val. they were sent off to paris young, actually. they returned often, but he was never around. i was the one who spent the most time with my father, right up until today. pathetic, really. aleksander has no regard for his family, despite fighting with himself the love he actually has for us. his wife, at least. i am not going to dive into the trivial details. there are a few secrets hidden in there that you would be best off not knowing. apologies. i did not have what one could call a childhood, most regrettably. people have had the audacity to inform me they feel sorry for me. what gives them the right? i am who i am because i was deprived less than a decade of childish pleasures. i spent the long, cold winters in the woods, learning how to survive anything. i killed my first deer when i was seven. i loved the feel of a firearm in my hand, the smoothness of the russian weapon. the power held there was disturbing. i suppose you could say i like sleek power. i was trained. i had to be my father one day, after all. this life is a short one, he knew as well as anyone he could be killed at any time. i was taken, broken and melted into the person i had to be. i am the bratva heir. things had to be sacrificed in order to make that a reality. no, i don't regret it. you may, but you may think a lot of things. no judgement.

the story darkens more than fifteen years into it. it got complicated. within a year, the stability everyone knew of the verrentenikovs was destroyed. my mother deteriorated quickly. she'd fought hungtinton's disease her entire life. i don't think she wanted to tell us, because it would upset everyone. she was fading into nothing, a mere shadow of the vibrance that once danced in her eyes. when her condition took a sharp turn, both valentina and sasha were due to return home, to moscow. it wouldn't change anything. they visited often, and they were watching their mother die just as openly as i was. val was broken. she was the closest to our mother, a younger replica of her, to say the least. had she not died…things would have been different. but that is the next chapter. sasha wouldn't even look at her anymore. she refused to be in the same room. we would lie through our teeth. she was fighting with our father; she was shooting a cat; hell, i think i said she was making pasta one time. few people assume sasha verrentenikov has a heart. clinically, she doesn't. her mind is still fractured, after all. but i think we saw some sort of humanity in her. she didn't want to see liza dissolve into the background. the same destination was planned for her. in a matter of years, my little sister would watch the world move on without her. it has to be terrifying, really. it is no lie, although many like to believe it is, that i said i would help her end it if she wants. whenever, wherever. it's her life, her decision. regardless, when we were barely teenagers, liza verrentenikov began the long, difficult battle to her end.

valentina and sasha were to come back home when they were fifteen. to officially be initiated into the family. to this day, i find that rule odd. surely my sisters could have contributed? between you and i, it won't be happening next time. it's useless. regardless, this is how things were to be. sasha was ecstatic. she was often quite vocal over her dislike for france, paris in particular. no issue. sasha doesn't like most things. val, on the other hand, had a certain passion for it. i think that's what upset my father. he wanted his children to love russia, and only russia. the traditions and cold, hockey and the broken history that came with everything. i do. val, however, did not. she gets that from mat. unfortunately, this is the part of the story in which i must withhold the details. no one outside of my family knows this. they simply assume val disappeared. or she died. maybe suicide. i've encouraged that rumour for quite sometime now. i don't think she is too impressed with that. while sasha was impatient to get to work, val was not. their departure to the airport in paris was the last time anyone saw her. she ran, abandoned her own family in order to pursue her selfish beliefs. that is the one flaw i disagreed with. blood is everything, loyalty to your blood even more so. she disappeared right from the pages of our history. silly how a teenage girl could evade her family for so long. for three long years, i think i convinced myself she was gone. dead.

she resurfaced then, when she and sasha were eighteen. i had only just began to ignoring her voice in my mind. there were more important things to focus on. sasha had grown organically, sharpened into the weapon my father favoured so much. i worked with her. we were partners, as close as one can get to an individual like sasha. still are, today. i heard whispers of valentina verrentenikov, the elusive traitor. but i never acted on them. i still loved my sister. i saw her departure as the ultimate betrayal. i guess that's what fuelled my obsession with death, to send the clearest message for crossing the line. val ignited who i am today. but, first, she had to stoke the fire. when she was brought back into our attention, i don't think any of it meant to happen. she was a traitor. so skilled at moving in the shadows, it was truly disappointing when she was caught. her story was that she took for fall for her companion. jules sakahrov - you've met her, surely. val never was quite as bold as miss jules. she continued to evade me. part of me didn't want my father to become aware. mat would not have. her little girl deserved to live, despite the poisoned bond. but aleksander verrentenikov cannot remain naive for long.

this was a family matter. he pulled her, manhandling her battered little body, into the smallest room in our house. it had long stopped being a home. he was never present. sasha was distant. and i was the one who had to watch my mother die. he had long stopped deserving her love. regardless, i was staring at valentina for the first time in three years. she had matured. she would have been beautiful, the warmth of my mother shining in her eyes. the blizzard that my father reined was flowing in her veins. she thought we were dirt. pathetic existences. i don't blame her. but she had disgraced our name. that was the day i learned the important of that rule. i had never taken it all too seriously, to be honest. blood and loyalty - it was obvious. who would be foolish enough to break that? valentina did. i wish this next part never happened. the understanding was thick in the air, the sorrow for meeting again this way. i am in no way a plush, but i couldn't help wishing for mercy for my littlest sister. but i had no room to interrupt. i was there simply to learn a lesson. my father was satisfied with me. it was sasha he turned to, the coldness in his eyes lowering the temperature in the room. the only times he looked at someone that way was before he pulled the trigger; only on a particularly disgusting individual. a high-level italian. yet, there is was. he mumbled something about a gun, motioning toward sasha. her closest blood was nothing, a traitor to the ones who had raised her. sasha could follow. he had to be sure. she had to prove how loyal she was to her blood.

he told her shoot val.

not in the head. the chest. he wanted his youngest daughter to suffer, bleed a slow death. torture her. make her regret everything. she could have been something special, but she was a nothing. and he wanted to make it clear - no one turns their back on blood. loyalty is the secret in our dark little world. valentina had broken this respect. aleksander looked right at sasha, his instructions ringing in the air for a minute or two. no one spoke. no one had any emotion. fear was dancing in val's eyes, i know that. she wavered, preparing for her demise. my heart had long dropped. i was here to learn a lesson. what could i do? sasha, she looked at our father like he was a loon. a ridiculous order. why should she have to prove her loyalty? she had stayed when val had left. that was what bothered her. i understand my sister, but i can never process her thoughts. it's a mystery to me. i looked away. i have no problem with blood, taking a life. i have a problem with watching an execution with little need. sasha shot her twin sister right in the chest. i saw the spirit drain from val's eyes, i heard her shallow breaths as she watched the world fade around her. she didn't beg. she didn't do anything. i always admired that about her.

i was excused. lesson learned: never deceive. i heard whispers. sasha had been instructed to dump val out in the woods. i never knew why. we often carve old soviet symbols into our victims and lay them for the world to see. when we want someone to disappear forever, our "cleaners" dissolve them in acid, or burn them. my father still had a connection to his daughter, despite the act he'd just ordered. it's a sad story. but it worked. my father initiated sasha as one of the prideful members of the verrentenikov circle. she and i continued our work, unsupervised. mat was dying. she was never told about val, but i think she knows. i don't see her often, aleksander has finally decided to stay by his wife's side. just as well, the issues with our bratva now would be much too trivial for his attention. internal affairs here are far too messy for my liking, so we are here in america to clean up this mess.

since that day, we have run much of the bratva together. we have our work. but we also have our odd, dark little connection. privately, i had to deal with valentina's death. sasha never processed the tragedy of it. her voice echoed in my mind. i saw her sometimes, out of the corner of my eye. she'd roll her eyes and call me pathetic. who knows what the fuck could have happened. that's something she would say - i can tell you that. she follows me around sometimes, always hanging over my head. i feel no guilt, i feel shame. sorrow. i miss her. i want to make her stop, to go away. maybe she'll leave if i satisfy her. i don't know. i suppose you could say i've grown unhinged since then, time never healing the wounds. six that day, every six months i will participate in russian roulette. confused i never covered that? pity. i never felt the need to inform you of this. this is the story of my past, not what i do with my business today. if you must know, i use it as a way to satisfy bratva members. many of them wish to see me dead. others deal with me, make their debts disappear. maybe give them a second chance. milana lutrova is here because her father failed. it's not my fault luck was not on his side. it is no lie i have a certain connection with her. that, too, has no business being your knowledge. that is a very private matter. oh, you've heard other things? i learned my lesson that day, my friend. any sort of loyalty will not be tolerated. i send the clearest of messages. i ordered ekaterina novikova to kill her family because they broke our only rule. i ordered ari kostitsyn to massacre his adopted family because he was worried he was fading from our radar. in combination with my roulette, i think a part of me hopes that satisfies val and she'll go away.

i doubt it."

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WELL, THANKS FOR TAKING THE TIME TO TALK TO ME. HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE REST OF YOUR DAY.

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WE STOLE OUR NEW LIVES
THROUGH BLOOD AND PAIN
THE ROLEPLAYER

NAME asia the goalie enthusiast.
AGE twenty million and eighty-seven.
RP EXPERIENCE big bang theory, yo.
FACE CLAIM ryan fucking gosling.
MEMBER GROUP russians. duh.
RP SAMPLE

the penguins are playing the flyers soon. i'm out of commission until then. :]

credit format by lainey, lyrics by 30 seconds to mars

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[asia ?!]