Birth Name: Pyotr Vasilev
Alias: Ivan Papliov
Date of Birth: September 29th, 1972
Place of Birth: Moscow, Russia
Ethnic Background: Caucasian, Russian
Hair Colour: Brown
Eye Colour: Green
- Andrei Vasilev – Mechanic. (Russian)
- Valentina Kyznetsov – Prostitute . (Russian)
- High school Diploma
- Mechanized Infantry Military Training
~ 1972 : Moscow, Moscow's general hospital, Russia. ~
The gloom and cold hanged lazily over Moscow. It was a miserable night, as were most. Valentina Kyznetsov screamed and twisted in her cott. As the doctors and nurses crowded around, Pyotr Vasilev was born.
~ 1982 : Moscow, Russia. ~
Pyotr rubbed the bruises on his face, from where Andrei had hit him. This was his life. His fathers drunken swears followed him as he trudged to the garden. He looked down at his feet, bound in shoes far too small. His mother had been dead for all his life. His father laughed and jeered, calling Pyotr "The son of a hooker", and he had learned to live with the facts. His fathers swearing became louder, and he burst through the door behind Pyotr, raising his fist in anger. This was his life.
~ 1993 : Outside Moscow. ~
It was war. They all knew what was happening, it had been going on for months now, and it was only a matter of time untill they were called into action. Chechnya was falling apart. The barracks was silent, and he was the first one to his feet as their First Sergeant blew the airhorn to wake them. As they were briefed on their deployment to Chechnya, no one was suprised. Some actually looked forward to it, to get their tours over. Pyotr was aswell, after he was conscripted into the army, all he could think about was getting back to his dear wife, Yekaternia.
~ 1994 : Fifty miles north of Grozny, Chechnya. ~
Pyotr was sleeping in his BMP when the shooting started. It was an ambush, and the rebels attacked from either side. As he struggelled to get to his senses, the back hatch of the BMP opened, and he was thrust into the combat. As the turret of the BMP turned and fired into the dense forest, a RPG whizzed past, and blew it to pieces in a rain of burnt metal. Pyotr threw himself on the dirt, as bullets pock-marked the ground beside him. He aimed up, and struck a SAW gunner square in the forehead. "Fix bayonets! Charge!" was the last thing his platoon sergeant said before a bullet splattered his brains onto the dirt. The soldiers all scrambled to their feet, and charged forward. It was suicide; With men dieng left and right. Then, they were on the enemy. Hacking, and stabbing with their bayonets. The screams of their dieng foes were suddenly overwhelmed by a larger sound, as four rebel T-72s rumbeled down the path, and fired a few rounds with their cannons. Pyotr looked desperatly, and found to his horror, all of the anti-armour troops of his platoon lay dead or dieng. Pyotr and the rest of the platoon dropped their weapons, and held their hands in the air. Pyotr saw the confident faces of the rebel tankers as they opened their hatches; The faces that looked so similar to their own, as someone knocked his helmet off, and smacked him in the back of the head with a rifle-butt.
~ 1994 : Unknown location, Chechnya. ~
The Rebels had them assemble on the parade grounds. Less than a quarter of his company remained. He watched in horror, as the executions began. One by one, the rebels hacked his comrades alive with Machettes. The lucky ones were beheaded. Pyotr keeled over and vomited. He was the next in line. As he looked up, he saw the Mil Mi-28 hovering above the tree line. He punched the Rebel in the testicles with all his might as the first rockets were launched. As the man doubeled over, Pyotr snatched up his Machette and split his head in two. The Mi-8s were here too now, hovering feet of the ground as the Spetsnaz commandos unloaded. One of them waved Pyotr and the remaining survivors to the helicopter. He jumped inside, and vomited once more. The noise of the battle around him droned away, as the chopper lifted, and flew off.
~ 1994 : Russian camp near Grozny, Chechnya. ~
After Pyotr was debriefed he went and slept for hours on end in the barn that was designated as the barracks. He was disgusted with himself. The men he watched die were his friends, his comrades. Men who would go to the gates of hell with him, and he had stood by as they were slaughtered like cattle. Mail call, news from home. Pyotr felt a little better as he opened the letter from his beloved Yekaterina. His smile faded as he read it. She had left him, and was pregnant with another mans seed. It was all too much, the deaths of his friends, and now this. Tears rolled down his face, and he made his decision. In one smooth motion, he drew his side arm, placed it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.
~ 1994 : Moscow, Moscow's general hospital, Russia. ~
Pyotr awoke in his hospital bed, and cursed desperatly at himself. "Fool! Coward! You cannot even kill yourself!". One of the nurses rushed in, suprised that he was awake at last. The bullet had passed through his brain, but missed all of the vital areas. After the doctors inspected him, he was given a document. They said a man in a uniform had brought it, and he already knew what it said. He sighed as he read through it, "Decomissioned."
~ 1994 : Moscow, Russia. ~
For Pyotr, the war was over. But the killing was not. He crouched in the bushes, and peered through the window. Yekaterina and her new husband laughed at the television. How dare they, thought Pyotr. While I killed and fought, she leaves me and sits around watching televsion. Pyotr's eyes flamed with rage and hatred, as he made his way around to the duplexes back door. It was unlocked, and he slinked inside. The light from the television danced on the wall. Pyotr skulked through the door behind the couch on wich they sat, and he raised his arm, the knife shining against the darkness.
~ 1994 : St. Petersburg, Russia. ~
Ever since Pyotr killed Yekaterina, murder had been a daily thing for him. After he moved from Moscow, to St. Petersburgm he captured the attention of some very important people. The Krasnya Bratva. Pyotr had been working for them for a while now. It was a cold October night. The car screeched to a halt outside of their bosses house. As Pyotr tried desperatly to turn the cars heater back on, the back door open, and a little girl crawled in. The driver got back in, and they sped off into the dawn. When they arrived at the station, the driver helped the girl out, and onto a train. As it began to crawl away, Pyotr opened the trunk, grabbed his AK, and slammed a new magazine into it.
~ 2007 : Los Santos, America. ~
It had been more than ten years. The small girl from that cold, windy night was now his boss. Pyotr and her were the only ones from the old Bratva that were still alive, the rest had been assassinated, before they fled to America. Pyotr is now the second in command, and one of the most feared and respected men in the city
תוצאות 1 עד 20 מ 24
10.02.2008, 20:41 #1
10.02.2008, 20:47 #2
10.02.2008, 20:49 #3
תגידו יש פה עוד שחקנים מ LS-RP?
אם כן תביאו שמות.
10.02.2008, 20:53 #4
רן :O אני מתפלא שאתה הגעת לקהילה הזאת...
תוריד את האיגנור בבקשה מהמסן זה יהיה נחמד
ולא אין הרבה שחקנים מLS-RP פה
אני חושב ש3DGlitch שיחק שם...
And yet again your story writing ability amazed me againSilas 'Cash' West
10.02.2008, 20:55 #5
10.02.2008, 21:10 #6
Too much to read, my eyes are bleeding :O
I like your name ;/
10.02.2008, 21:35 #7
10.02.2008, 21:56 #8
שלום רן! אני מבין שאתה זה Pyotr Vasilev מLSRP!
קראתי את הסיפור כבר בLSRP והסיפור באמת מדהים,דרך אגב ברוכים הבאים לקהילה!D: חזרתי
10.02.2008, 23:12 #9
אני רק מקווה,
שיהיה הכל סבבה..
10.02.2008, 23:15 #10
10.02.2008, 23:36 #11
ברוך הבא אחי
11.02.2008, 07:03 #12
ברוך הבא !
סיפור נדיר אחי כל הכבוד .
אגב אני Raul Sanchez ב LSRP אני לא כזה ידוע אבל זה אני D: .
Hector "Smokey" Ramirez
12.02.2008, 01:50 #13
12.02.2008, 13:58 #14
12.02.2008, 14:01 #15
12.02.2008, 16:04 #16
-צונזר ע"י 3DGlitch
שמור על הפה שלך פעם הבאה.מנהל קהילת+מנהל פורום WarRockמנהל קהילת America's Armyאדמין בשרת SAMP VG DMלשעברכינויים:HFactorMcLaren
12.02.2008, 16:17 #17
וואלה אחי אהבתי את הסיפור!
12.02.2008, 16:42 #18
HFactor,פעם הבאה שאני רואה תגובה כזאת אני אדאג שאתה לא תהיה חלק מהקהילה הזו יותר.
ואם אתה לא מאמין שרן כתב את הסיפור דמות הזה ,אל תאמין ואל תגיב שמור את הדעות שלך בלב ,בשקט.
אני מכיר את רן מLSRP ואני יכול להבטיח לך שהוא כתב את הסיפור הזה.
פעם הבאה שאתה מפרסם תגובה כזאת אתה תורחק מהקהילה ע"י אישית,זה אני מבטיח לך.
-תמשיכו את הדיון.D: חזרתי
12.02.2008, 19:30 #19
אחי אני יודע לקרוא אנגלית אבל לא כל כך טוב אז אפשר פירוש לעברית!!!
13.02.2008, 20:28 #20