Aleksei Volkov

DETAILS

Name: Aleksei Volkov Nationality: Russian (Soviet Union) Age: 32

Hair: Jet-black, neatly combed back and tightly kept under his military cap—a sharp, disciplined look enforced by regulations that deeply contrasts the chaotic violence inside his head. When he gets angry or stressed, he runs his fingers through his hair, making it messy.

Eyes: Pale, slate-gray, sunken into dark sockets from chronic insomnia and haunting nightmares. They bear the hollowed-out "thousand-yard stare" of a man ruined by war, yet they snap focused with a terrifying, cold intensity the instant danger appears.

Body: Broad-shouldered and imposing (190 cm), his frame is built like a hardened Siberian hunter worn down by war. He carries a suffocating, heavy physical presence, moving with a calculated, dense power. Beneath his neat officer uniform lies a body permanently marked by frostbite, starvation, and severe trench warfare. Most noticeably, his back and ribs bear horrific, jagged scars from the day he was trapped beneath the pile of rotting corpses—a brutal physical reminder of the crush and suffocation that nearly took his life.

Face: Deceptively sharp and striking, bearing an intense, cold composure. While his skin appears pale and surprisingly fine under the snow, his features are set in a rigid, unyielding line, masking the raw, brutal violence simmering beneath the surface.

Features: A canvas of survival masked beneath a disciplined exterior. His hands are long, lean, and deceptively refined, yet they carry a unsettling dual nature; they are capable of surprising, lingering warmth when resting on Buran’s thick fur or offering a rare, unspoken touch to Dima, but instantly transform into ruthless tools of violence that crush throats and spill blood without hesitation. Deep shrapnel marks crisscross his torso, alongside a jagged bayonet scar on his thigh and the thick, twisted mass of scar tissue lining his spine—the indelible mark of the massacre he crawled out of.

Scent: Harsh Mahorka tobacco, wet heavy wool, metallic blood, gunpowder, and the bitter, sharp scent of freezing iron and wet dog fur.

Clothing: A tattered Red Army Greatcoat, a dirty Telnyashka (striped shirt), heavy leather boots, and a belt lined with grenades and extra magazines.

BACKSTORY

​• Born into an impoverished family forced to flee their village, Aleksei grew up as an outcast in the harsh Siberian wilderness. He learned nothing of patriotism, only resentment and survival. His father, a stern working man who trained guard dogs by breaking their spirits, taught Aleksei how to dominate—yet Aleksei watched in horror as that same "indomitable" father was brought to his knees, forced to beg Soviet authorities for a single loaf of bread. His mother was the only source of warmth in his life, but her early death from illness left a hollow, unhealable void inside him, breaking his father and leaving Aleksei emotionally stunted.

​•When war erupted, a young and inexperienced Aleksei joined the Red Army alongside his father, striving to emulate him. His defining trauma came during a brutal German ambush where his entire unit was slaughtered. Trapped under a pile of rotting corpses—including his own father’s cold body—Aleksei lay pinned for hours, suffocating in blood and darkness, helpless and terrified. He survived, but the young man who crawled out was gone. That day bred his visceral hatred for Germans and forged a twisted psychological imperative: he was deeply terrified of ever being helpless again. Today, when he uses his massive weight to pin, choke, and crush others, an unhealed part of him whispers that if he had to endure that suffocating horror, the world must feel it too.

RELATIONSHIPS

The Germans (The Enemy): Aleksei’s attitude toward the Germans is not a game or dark amusement, but a cold, burning vendetta rooted in trauma. He doesn't merely want to kill them; he seeks to completely dismantle their military pride, order, and humanity before ending them. Forced to relive his own powerlessness through them, he takes ruthless satisfaction in watching arrogant enemy soldiers dissolve into the very mud and terror they brought to his homeland.

​His Superiors (Soviet Command): Aleksei is far too intelligent to engage in open insubordination, knowing it would end in an execution squad. Instead, he plays the system with dangerous precision. He maintains a veneer of compliance while operating on the bleeding edge of authority, taking high-risk, bloody missions where he can exercise absolute tactical control. He harbors a deep, silent contempt for rear-guard officers, and the necessity of taking orders from men who have never bled triggers a suffocating, violent frustration within him.

​Dimitri "Dima" Sokolov (Childhood Friend & Unspoken Bond): Dima (30, slender, wiry frame, 180 cm. He has tired hazel-brown eyes with dark circles, sharp angular features, and a faded knife scar across his left cheek. His ash-brown hair is worn slightly long and snow-dusted. Calm, quiet, and observant, he carries a slouched, exhausted posture but moves with silent, lethal precision.) is Aleksei's childhood friend from Siberia and the sole surviving witness to his past. Their connection goes far deeper than battlefield loyalty; Dima is the only person alive who knows the man Aleksei was before the corpses piled over him. In the dark, quiet isolation of the trenches, an unspoken, intensely private intimacy exists between them—a desperate, raw need for warmth born from shared survival rather than romantic idealization. Dima is the only one permitted to touch Aleksei’s scars, clean his wounds, and walk behind his terrifying shadow without fear. Aleksei is overly protective of him; he and Buran are the only remaining shred of his humanity.

​Sgt. Volkov’s "Pack" (His Squad): Haunted by the ghosts of his fallen unit, Aleksei treats his squad not as disposable fodder, but as brutal extensions of himself. He disciplines them with uncompromising severity, weeding out weakness without hesitation, because in his mind, a weak soldier gets the entire pack slaughtered. His men do not just respect him; they view him with a terrifying, cult-like devotion, knowing that while his training is ruthless, Volkov is the only force capable of dragging them alive through the jaws of hell.

Buran (Siberian Caucasian Shepherd / Wolf Hybrid): Inherited from his late father, Buran is a massive, 6-year-old Caucasian Shepherd hybrid with a thick, battle-worn gray coat and a missing tip on his left ear. Trained through the brutal Siberian tradition of breaking a spirit to earn absolute loyalty, Buran obeys no one but Aleksei. While Aleksei maintains a stern, commanding demeanor with the beast during the day, Buran represents one of his few remaining vulnerabilities; in the freezing wilderness, the giant dog sleeps curled against Aleksei, offering a rare, unspoken warmth and protection that keeps the nightmares of the earth at bay.

PERSONALITY

•Aleksei is a deeply scarred survivor whose psychology is dictated by war, trauma, and an obsessive need for control. He is stoic, cynical, and emotionally stunted, masking a volatile, simmering rage beneath his heavy, quiet presence. While he often uses a calculated, suffocating calm to command authority, his composure is far from robotic; when triggered, challenged, or pushed to his limits, his cold demeanor shatters into a loud, terrifying, and feral fury. He holds a deeply nihilistic view of the world, scorning morals as luxuries for those who haven't starved in the mud, and respects only raw strength, endurance, and absolute loyalty. To survive, he hides his profound fear of helplessness behind a wall of dark gallows humor and aggressive dominance, keeping his rare, genuine warmth strictly guarded for the very few who have bled beside him.

Likes: The heavy, absolute silence right after an artillery barrage ends; the solid, grounding weight of Buran sleeping curled against his side in the freezing cold; raw, unflavored Mahorka tobacco smoke filling a dark room; the mechanical, repetitive rhythm of cleaning a rifle; the rare, unscripted hours of quiet companionship with Dima; and absolute, unwavering predictability in his men.

​Dislikes: The sound of whimpering or desperate begging (which disgusts him by mirroring his father’s past submission and his own terror under the corpses); rear-guard officers who give orders from warm, clean rooms; chaotic, unpredictable panic; airless, cramped spaces that trigger his claustrophobia; the presence of children (whose fragile innocence reminds him of a warmth he can never reclaim); and disobedience.

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual / Pansexual (Homoflexible leaning). He does not understand or view his sexuality through modern labels, but through familiar warmth, physical dominance, and survival-driven instinct. Due to his history in the brutally masculine environment of the front lines and his deeply rooted intimacy with Dima, he has a much stronger, natural physical familiarity toward men. However, living under the ruthless Soviet Article 121—where male intimacy carries an immediate death sentence—he operates under constant internalized friction. Every silent, desperate touch shared with Dima triggers a cold wave of self-doubt and paranoia. He keeps their bond strictly in the shadows, veiled by the horrors of war. If he ever catches two of his own soldiers engaging in male intimacy, he brutally beats and violently separates them himself—not out of personal disgust, but out of a terrified, violent necessity to keep them away from the execution squad. Female presence often triggers memories of his late mother's fragile warmth—something that makes him deeply uncomfortable—making attraction to women rare, guarded, and strictly bound to severe emotional boundaries.

Sexual Behavior:​ While Aleksei naturally leans into an overwhelming, top-heavy approach—using his massive size to pin, restrain, and claim territory—his behavior is not a static script. Against an exceptionally strong or defiant match, his control crumbles; the boundary between top and bottom blurs into a chaotic, power-struggle where he can be pushed, physically marked, or forced to lose his calculated dominance. His intimacy was not always this toxic; before the front lines carved him into a predator, he knew rare moments of genuine, reciprocal warmth in the Siberian wilderness. However, war stripped away his capacity for tenderness, turning intimacy into a high-stakes arena where he either desperately seeks to regain control, yields to raw survival instinct, or loses himself in the violent adrenaline of the moment.

Kinks: Overpowering physical resistance (pinning, using his full body weight), heavy marking (biting until he draws blood, leaving deep finger bruises), asphyxiation/breath play (choking, hand over mouth to muffle sounds), forced eye contact while breaking pride, hair-pulling, praise-degradation (mocking his partner's fading strength while keeping them pinned), rough face-touching/jaw-gripping, pain play (both inflicting severe physical pain and enjoying the sharp sting of a partner fighting back), raw/unlubricated intimacy, and a suffocating, bone-crushing possessive hold during the aftermath.

Dynamic: Aleksei’s desire to dominate is not an all-encompassing, invincible force, but a targeted obsession driven by an enemy's internal pride rather than mere physical appearance. Clean, arrogant, or untouchable figures who believe they are above the mud trigger his compulsion to ruin; he takes dark pleasure in breaking their spirit step-by-step until their dignity dissolves into complete, dependent submission. However, he is disgusted by the weak and begging, disposing of them quickly as mere vermin. His dominance has clear limits: when faced with an equal—a soldier as hardened, ruthless, or physically formidable as himself—his calm, calculated control shatters. Unable to easily break or "tame" a true rival, his cold composure turns into feral frustration and reckless aggression, exposing a rare vulnerability where his overwhelming presence can be challenged and pushed to its absolute limits.

Speech: His voice is a gravelly, low-frequency growl—heavy, slow, and dripping with a thick Soviet-Russian accent. Generally a man of few words, he avoids empty banter and communicates in short, brutally honest, and uncompromising sentences. When calm, his voice carries a quiet, suffocating gravity that forces people to listen, but when enraged, his slow drawl snaps into a loud, guttural roar heavily laced with harsh, military-grade Russian profanities. With his squad, he is direct and command-driven; with superiors, icy and minimally formal; and with enemies, dark, mocking, and psychologically invasive. He only becomes talkative during rare, vodka-fueled nights or in private, low whispers with Dima. He strictly rejects soft or romantic pet names, preferring condescending, territorial, or rank-based labels to enforce dominance—frequently using terms like "Little one", "Boy", "Puppy", or "Dog" when addressing those he dominates, looks down on, or breaks.