Sergueï Mikhaïlkov

Real Name: Sergueï (Serioga, Seriogika)  Martinivitch Mikhaïlov
Hero Name: Sergueï Mikhaïlkov
Title: The stubborn one
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Hair:Dark
Eyes:Black
Height:7,1
Weight:
Blood type: O+





He spreads hard-boiled cop vibes all around him.

Sergueï could be a kind of good looking man if he wasn’t so destroyed. But his skin is already marked by the tobacco and the important amount of alcohol he drinks every day.  He has shadows under his eyes, dirty hair, and a three day beard he never shaved. He looks around him like if everything was a threat and there always something sad who stays on his lips when he smiles. Even during daylight, he looks haunted like an empty orphanage. Nothing attractive.

He walks like a stray dogs, hands hiden in his huge pockets, tired even when he has not been beaten during the night. You can tell he doesn’t hopes to be socially acceptable by other professions than cops. He has a beigish shirt, a jean and an old grey jacket most of the time. And a big black coat during winter which is so old and scraffy that Dostoievkky himself has probably wore it. You can presume someone  who cares about him bought him those clothes, because even if they never looks clean and fresh, they rarely have holes or dirty spots.

He smokes a lot and smells like cigarets and vodka.




He’s a grumpy looner, sad and bitter, but there are some sweetness left in the bottom of his heart. He’s not a violent man. And he can be very patient when he loves someone.

But nontheless, SergueÏ is completly fucked up and most of his truth in people has gone during his childhood, straying in the schallows of Moscow and then St. Petersburg. Despite his suspicious looking, he likes people, in his own way, and prefers to spent some time at the bar than being alone in his small appartment. If you talk to him, sitting at the counter, he would truly listen, and would never dare to make any judgement or advice if you haven't really armed someone, knowing than most of people fight their own battles the best they can. Nevertheless, he hates cowardice, and even he understands it, he moves away from anyone who doesn’t take his responsabilites. It’s unbearable for him. And he has a tendency to prefer tough personality who doesn't eat too much tofu over some more soft person...That doesn't mean he disrepects. It's just cultural. Sergueï is a russian man, it's not natural for him to talk astrology and self-care, so he doesn't.

During his vigilante activity Sergueï doesnt kill but it’s not a choice. He’s resentful and wish to eliminate all the rich man, all the sadistic people, all the lazy and volontary blind one who make earth into hell….But his empathy provides him to put a bullet in anyone’s head. He he would kills someone while feelings the sensation of his victim, Sergueï knows he would go mad. Moreover, he reads a lot, and Dostoievsky taught him some stuffs.

When he’s alone and not drinking with others barflies or trying to break some capitalist dynasty, or rescuing a poor person, or trying to solve a problem from the FSB (russian secret service) confidential file (files he stole while he quit the FSB at his brother death), while he's not doing those kind of vigilante stuff, which is rare, SergueÏ loves quiet activities and calm presence. Alone or in the presence of women who experimented like him the disapoitment of romantic feelings and are looking for short stories without any engagement like he does,  he appreciates to play chess, or just to listen. Sometimes, when he forgets to play the rough practical man who has seen it all, he makes some russian tea (black as soul, thick as blood) and asks his partner to read a book to him. He loves european litterature, french particularly, as stupid as it may seem.

When no one is watching, truly NO ONE,  he does his french grammatical exercices, trying to learn a langage for fifteen years now, in vain. He loves quiet time and needs a lot of peace to keep his mind sain. He's biggest secret is probably his ability to sing and dance: those were activities children did in the different orphanage of the 90's in Moscow. So it's a bit technical, cold and classical, but Sergueï has those skills. Fortunetly, the only person who knew it died few years ago, sparing Sergueï some dreadfull moment of  humiliating personal expression - probably the worse thing that could happen to a russian immigrant.  



Sergueï Martinevitch was born in Moscow in december 199X, from a Russian mother, Lioubov (a poor worker who has known nothing but a big military plane manufactory lost in the east of Moscow) and a french adventurer dad, Martin, who loved Lioubov three days, get her pregnant, fond the idea of having a family romantic for three month, and then cheated on his wife with every syphilitic prostitute he could find in the neighborhood. Lioubov surely tried to avenge herself, because twenty two months after her first child, she gave to Sergueï a little brother, Grigori. Grigori was called Martinevitch but he was blond, with plumpy cheeks and beautiful blue eyes. While SergeÏ and Martin had dark hair with identical obsidian eyes, identical sharped jaws and similar dark frowned eyesbrown, which couldn't express something else than hate or sadness.

When Sergueï was six and Grigori four, Martin decided to go back to France and start a new life, without Lioubov and the two scary and hungry muscovites who followed her and called him Daddy with their scary and hungry russian voice ("it's like two mini-KGB agent are always looking after me, what's wrong with those kids, do they hate me?") After his departure, Lioubov strated to smoke some glue, ended to prostitute herself, and die few month later. Grigori, SergueÏ and the orthodox priest (Sergueï was pretty sure Lioubov stopped believing in God years before her death but...why not?) were the only one present at the day of the funeral. Left alone, the two brothers began a life split between roaring trains and crowded dormitories, passing from one gloomy orphange to anvother at the rythm of their fights and advertissments.

At fifteen, SergueÏ run from one the orphanage near Moscow and become a thief and a drug dealer. His empathy gift had already begun to grow inside his heart, and the close cohabitation with Grigori and their ten others roomates was worst than living in the street. He chose the peace over the roof. However, he managed to regularly visit his little brother Grigori, once a week, bringing him some tea bag and honey cake.  And even a book, from time to time, because this little freak of Grigori loved to spend hours in the life of paper person who never lived... A hobby which worried Sergueï during several years. How the fuck was Grigori suppose to survive outside if he behaved himself like fucking Anastasia Romanof with her fancy dress and her fucking disney movie? THere was a real world out there!

When Grigori grew old enough to get out without breaking the law of the orphanage, SergueÏ had won enough money to offer to his little brother the opportunity to go to an university - "we will be no slumboy, Grishka. With your brain and my money, we will be no slumboy."  Despite the repeated warnings of SergueÏ that they needed something useful to achieve his plan, Grishka chose to learn russian and french  litterature in the university of St. Petersburg. Chained to his empathy gift (and maybe the fact that he truly loved the dumbass Romanof princess he has as a  little brother), Sergueï let Grishka study Tchechov while they were living in a liliputian room filled with rats and dirt. Re-starting the drug selling in a unknown city had not been easy for his little brother, but as he loved to repeat it three times a day to his little brother: when shits need to be done, it need to be done. Even with his empathy gift (the brother called it "the pain in Sergueï ass"), Sergueï smoked enough different stuff to be as violent as St. Petersburg and the drug-addict needed him to be.

THen, suddenly, maybe because of all those romantic and heroic books that Grigori brought to their appartment, Grishka and Sergoka began to humbly fight the crime : at first, they would split the money won by Sergueï between them and some poor orphan boy like them, and then they will begin to protect those poor boy. Before they knew, they were burning the house of the bourgeois who own their out of prices appartments, and then, the turnover, rescue two teenage girls who has been kidnapped by a gang of crazy crack-heand punk who wanted to start a human trafic but forgot the girl in their basement for two days without feeding them. When Grigori and Sergueï bring the unfortunate  girls back to their parents, they almost ended in a state prison. Fortunetly, one of the girl spoke well and the judge finally understood the two patibularian boys in front of him were fucked up, but with a good heart.

At the age of twenty three, Grishka graduated, he asked his brother to acompany him to France to try to find their runnaway daddy. Sergueï refused violently.  Grishka insisted during long month, explaining to his older brother that knowing their story will make them stronger, and that true heroe have to confront their past. He had read too much of those big books filled with word as "virtue", "honor" and "intimacy." SergueÏ mocked him, and Grishka left St-Petersbug with anger, hoping that Marseille will give him answers. "Yeah, well, go find your past you ingratefull bastard! I don't need you! I don't love you! No one does, parasite!" were the last word SergueÏ said to his little brother.

Two whole yeasr past without any news from little Grishka. Meanwhile, the FSB contacted Sergueï and after a six month  training program (most of the hardest thing a man can endure on earth -would said Sergueï to Eleonord, her only true friend in america ) he integrated the agency and did some dirty work for them. He learned informatic skills, weapon skills, he learned to speak to be able to infiltrate fancy parties, international condress... Sergueï wasn’t happy and knew he was helping the system who crushed him and his brother during their greyish childhood. But he needed the money, and he consolated himself by repeating than the idealistic boy like his stupid little brother Grishka always lived a short and unhappy life. While the pramatic boy like him lived a long and confortable life. "Fucking stupid Grishka" he repeated to himself once a week, and to the woman he met, and to the bartender, and to everyone in Moscow. Fucking stupid Grishka."

But one cold night, everything changed. SergueÏ woke up in his FSB service room, sweaty, experiencing the same sensation while he touched someone and felt his life. But he wasn’t touching anyone. Or, more precisely, the person his brain imagined he was touching was miles away, in Marseille, and it was Grishka. Sergueï was him suddenly, and Grigori was under water, near a wooden boat. Someone strangulated him while he tried to reach the surface. Panic, dispair, anger, stupefaction, loneliness, fear, rage… All those things were mixed up inside the brain the young man drowning. While Sergueï tried to breathe, it was like he swallowed pollutated water who filled Grishka’s lungs. And when he tried to recognize his room, his eyes were watching the indifferent face of their father, Martin, who was killing Grishka. After five minute of agony, SergueÏ collasped. When he comes back to life, he knew intimatly Grishka was gone for ever. He cried for days, and then collected all those stupide optimistic books with beautiful and brave character. "Foolish... So Foolish..."

From that moment, Sergueï decided to avenge his little brother and to live a straight and virtuous life like Grishka had tried to create for them. From problem to problem, (complicated story with Interpol where he stole some files and usb key) his cursed soul land on Brooklyn, met his friend Eleonord, fought crime. He decided to hide for a while, waiting for interpol and the FSB to forget him to go back to France and found his father. Meanwhile, he protects the widow and the orphan the best he can, like the heroes in Grishka's books.



Empathy: When Sergueï is somewhere he can lightly feels the feelings of the people who surround him.

Reading the life of someone: When SergueÏ touches someone with the will to understand them, he can vizualizes and almost live the life of this person. He feels everything the person has felt during their life. Sometimes, when he touches someone and is not concentrate, it happens without his control.




Doesn’t speak well : Sergueï is a franco-russian  migrant with a fragmented life. His english is fragile and uncertain.

Alcoholism: Sergeï drinks a lot, ansd since 10AM each morning. Vodka, mostly, but he doesn’t say no to a japanese whiskey. He has two different flasks.

Insomnia and precarious mental health: Sergueï sleeps three or four houre by night. He’s often very tired, and it’s not rare for his (very rare) friends to see him weak and pale, struggling to keep a normal conversation. To balance those languid days, he has maniac period when he truly looks like a crac-head.

Poverty: SergueÏ lives in a small, humid and dirty appartment in Brooklyn, with a landlord who’s always trying to get rid of him. Unfortunetly for him, Sergeuï always find some money somewhere. It’s better to ignore how.

Paranoia : Sergueï has strong tendency to think everything has a sinister purpose. Eeveryone is a threat to him, even if his gift of empathy could help him to find eventual traitors. He investigate the private life of every person who tries to get close to him.

Wanted man : Croatia, Italy, France and Russia are looking for Sergueï for différents reasons. When he sees an interpol or FSB agents, Sergueï has to run, no matter how important is the case his currently working on.

Sergueï can’t kill or he will become crazy: His Empathy skill prevent SergeÏ to kill anyone directly.

Too much empathy: In crowded area, SergueÏ is overwhelwed by the feelings of the different people who surround him. It makes him panic, and if he has no possibility to go away, he often collapses.

Living the life of someone else: When Lorenzo touches someone for too long trying to vizualize his life, he can confused his life with the person he has touched, and without exterior help, he can stay trapped in others memories for hours and stay confused for weeks after this expirience.  

Fear of water : Sergueï witnessed his little brother Grishka drown while he was investigating about their absent father Martin. Since then, he fears water, even if he tried to keep it secret.

Metal : Any metal (lead, gold, iron) is an isolant to Sergeï gift : he can’t felt the feelings of a person if a iron wall seperate them, and if, for instance, he is trapped in a room with iron walls, the feelings of the people who are with him will echoes, driving him mad.



- Laguiole : Little knife from France.
- Interpol USB Key : A key who allows him to break basic warfare of a majority of computer.
-An Adrenaline Serynge
-A car : An old mercedes.
-Bottle of ether and a tissue : To neurtralize without killing.
-Knuccle duster for each fist.
-Lacrymo – gaz.
-A recorder.
-A taser.
-Files stolen from the FSB.


None.



SergueÏ has a strong muscovite accent.

Sergueï is scary. He has a very suspicious look and verrify twice a place before going inside. He talks to people looking them right in the eye. Even in his faded clothes, you can tell he has so muscle and know how to fight.



The dead end is empty, and even the cats looking  for food in the trash are silent, like if they new something bad was coming. Sitting in his car, Sergueï make so few movement than he could be mistaken for a dead body. But he breathes, and his two black eyes are dangerously alive.
A fat man with a 21 tattoo  on the upper part of his chin knocks on the window. Sergueï opened the door, his eyes always fixed on an invisible point in the air.
-Goulag-man! I’ve missed you Serguy’… I swear, since you’re in the neighbourhood, everything’s simpler, like if they were desperados and  were frightened by a cool Sheriff of some Western shit...Haha... Has someone ever told you you look like a comunist Clint Ea_
-Where are the kids Leonard?
Fatman looked at Sergueï with two rond eyes.
-What on earth are you talking about Serguy’ ? And don’t call me Leonard, you’re creeping me out I swear, everyone knows me as L I…
-I don’t have much time L, announces Sergueï.
He catches the hand of L and squeeze it violently. The eyes of Sergueï become foggy. He sees the dark and small child room of L, his five siblings, his mother crying on the couch because she feels ugly, and then Sergueï finds what he’s looking for : the terrified faces of the young Théo and Kimberly, asking L where he’s going. Sergueï can almost hear the panic roaring in L’s ears.
- You better talk now.
L begin to cry. Three minute later, Sergueï has the exact adress.