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(Forewarning: this thing needs serious revision and all that jazz. But until I stop being lazy and unmotivated, it should work well enough.)
"You may shatter my bones, tear off my limbs, break my body. You may stab me, impale me, shoot me, destroy me--but I will always, always return. This blood that runs through my veins is Russian, and Russian blood never runs cold."
Name: Aleksei Morozov. (Алексе́й Моро́зов.)
"Aleksei" means "Defender", "Morozov" means "Frost."
Nation: Siberia.
Nicknames: The General. Sovereign Winter. Mr. ********]
Birthday: December 30th.
Age: Mid thirties to early fourties.
Height: 5'11".
Weight: Unknown.
Hair: Brown.
Eyes: Pale blue.
Likes: Nature, China's tea.
Relations: Valentina Titova-Morozova, Selena and Celeste Morozova, Lily Morozova, Mathias Morozov, Russia/Ivan Braginski, Georgia/Giorgi Bagrationi, Alaska/Anesia Tonror Jones, Aleksandra Morozova, Vladimir Morozov.
His first love was Mother Russia(Россия-Матушка; Rossiya-Matushka), though he could not be with her.
His appearance, including his complexion, comes from his diverse "mutt" blood.
I do not know how to feel about all of this. It is as if the world is moving in a blur, but I cannot slow it down, and I cannot catch up, no matter how fast I may try to run--it's both exciting and terrifying. Even if I should want to, there is no way to stop, is there? My feet will not stand firm, they move forward of their own accord.
My land has been occupied and overrun many times, some memories more pleasant than others. This time, however... it is different. It is a reunion, not a first meeting, is what it feels like. Isn't that strange? They've cleaned and polished me up, cut my hair short, trimmed my beard... No matter how many times I gaze upon myself in the mirror or run my hand through their fine work, it does not seem real. Who is this pale-eyed man staring back at me? The uniform they have dressed me in is far more magnificent than anything I could have imagined to wear--so very different from furs and hides. It's well fitted, and maybe that is why it sometimes becomes uncomfortable, especially the sash and epaulettes. But no one seems to mind when I fidget or fuss, which is good, because I do not want to seem ungrateful.
Instead, they tell me with smiles how handsome I am, and it puts me at ease. Why do I know and speak their language? Nyet, I do not want to understand why it is so. I want only for this happiness to remain always. In exchange for my land to become one with Russia, I have been offered a place at court, and the rank of General in their new rising army. My heart swells to ache with so much pride. But the best yet, is that I am able to see the Mother Russia--who is more glorious and beautiful than any member of Russian royalty, and the woman of all women, certainly to be admired and respected. It is a great honor to protect and to serve her, and to her and her country I will swear my undying loyalty.
Ah, so that is it, da? I see now. You are no longer "Siberia", are you, man in mirror? You are Aleksei Morozov, General Aleksei Morozov, and you have finally found your way back home, where you belong.
Siberia.
Also known as the "Sleeping Land."
He is a very old nation, who has seen many disasters, deaths, and births in his natural resource-enriched land. The eruption of the Siberian Traps is considered to be an important factor in the Great Dying of 251 million years ago, which destroyed roughly 90% of all living species at the time. The land was also home to at least three known species of ancient humans, their extinction being a rather sore spot to him, considering that his origins and childhood lie with them. He's very resourceful, having been taught at a very young age how to take care of and fend for himself in order to survive.
In his somewhat older years, he enjoyed watching the nomads such as the Yenets, Nenets, the Huns, Iranian Scythians, and the Turkic Uyghurs pass through his country, picking up bits and pieces of their cultures and traditions in order to create his own amalgamative identity. Between the 13th to 16th century, Siberia lost his unspoken independence. First was the invasion by the ruthless Mongolia, whose rule lasted until the demise of the Golden Horde; then the ethnically-diverse Siberian Khanate took over as his director, and finally the Russian Empire seized the area, a grip that has not been relinquished since. These three were responsible for reshaping Siberia completely.
He remembers everything he has been through as Siberia, but does not seem to openly display(except in occasional lapses) his individuality from before the first invasions began; instead adopting and maintaining his acquired Russian identity.
The task appointed to him had predominantly been to oversee the Katorga and the Gulag camps during the Soviet era, punishing exiled prisoners and maintaining order by keeping them in line. This is one of the darkest aspects of his life, and even if permitted to, he likely would not discuss it.
Despite his militaristic name and occupation, he is actually a very kindhearted man, who prefers peace and loves nature--to the point of having been a bit reclusive from other nations as Siberia. He's very open-minded towards other religions; however, like most of Russia, he is Orthodox Christian.
The Siberian High is the collection of cold or very cold dry air that accumulates much of the year--starting in August and lasting until April. It reaches its greatest size and strength in the winter, where temperatures are often lower than -40 Celcius. It affects the weather patterns in the higher latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere, as far down as the Po Valley in Italy.
It's responsible for both severe winter cold and attendant dry conditions across most of Siberia. The lowest temperature recorded was -67.8 Celcius, or -90 Farenheit. Sounds great for vacationing, right?
Aleksei is actually half-European and half-Asian. (Siberia is Eurasian. Get it? >.> wink He tends to avoid the Trans-Siberian Railway, because it is too noisy and disruptive for his tastes.
 Sovereign Winter · Tue May 03, 2011 @ 02:25pm · 0 Comments |
