CHAMPION, dmitry alexandrov

[attr="class","appcat"]bio

You're born of your mother's spindle fingers, always working with the remnants of a cold war wrapped between them, always wanting what she knows, god forbid, she could never have. Born of your father's iron hands, knuckles white gripping a pulpit, calloused as the winters; this is god's gift, he would tell you, those iron hands. You're born of the prayers of saints before you, oh yes, and you're anything but delicate. (Your sister, born a disappointment and never raising from that charred grace. Your father barely looked at her, your mother's hands never wove her like they did you.) Your three bedroom home never felt empty with your father's presence.

You're born to be a martyr, your father's pride and joy while your mother pieces everything together in the background, always spindles for fingers with pursed lips, always obedient; you never once heard your father thank her for a damned thing.

And aren't big brothers supposed to protect their sisters? Well, yes, of course, and the monsters under their beds, in their closets, aren't supposed to be their brothers. Holy monsters are monsters the same, and all the bruises in the world didn't change her. The red sun turned over in your smile as your father would introduce the two of you to new members of the church, the shadow falling over your sister. They'd come to listen to him preach, of course, but it always came back to you. Meet Dmitri, he'd say, gripping your shoulder and bringing you forward, My pride and joy, he'd repeat. Like a prayer, again, again, again. Your presence, as you grew, could fill a room; your voice commanded attention, laughter. You filled a room, always, and your father was so proud.






The champion for hire, or, as some call him, the fist of the goddess. A well known bodyguard/mercenary, he travels quite a bit. Not surprisingly, he has a wide range of acquaintances and friends; very social, but with his job it sometimes requires it.

He's not cheap, but is well worth the cost.

He keeps his thoughts and teachings of the Goddess close in mind with near everything he does; it should be known to not cross them.

+ FINGERS OF THE GODDESS //
Dmitriy's prized, and heavily enchanted, pair of spiked cestus. The spikes on this cestus are not of metal; they are the teeth of a lycan (carefully made to be sturdy, but they can be replaced when they do eventually wear down), two rows lined across the knuckles of both. The straps of the cestus, which are black in colour, are made of tanned lycan skin.

The enchantment of the cestus comes from the parts it's made of. This pair of gloves heightens Dmitri's physical prowess, and allows him to enter a berserk state when fighting. Call it feral, if you would. In this state his physical abilities, and reflexes, peak. However, it impairs his logic for that amount of time.

+ BRAWLER //
Even without his cestus, Dmitri is well known as a top-tier fighter. Even without much formal training, Dmitri is a force to be reckoned with. He specializes in hand to hand combat, never being a fan of blades or most other weapons. Most well known is his stamina.

Dmitri is capable of being wailed on quite a bit before going down.

[attr="class","appquote"]pray for the coliseum roaring in your chest; that it stays hungry, and that it wins.