red_peril: (Red Peril 2)
2030-02-28 08:27 am
Entry tags:

Profile: Modern AU

ILLYA KURYAKIN
If you hear gunshot my bullet was not meant for you




APPEARANCE

PB: Armie Hammer


DETAILS: Very tall, Illya is 6'5" tall and weighs 220lbs, has blonde hair and blue eyes and is athletic and muscular. He speaks with a distinct Russian accent for example:Man from UNCLE clip

He prefers dark clothing, casual is turtlenecks and slacks with a leather jacket, formal is a Tuxedo, business casual is designer suits. Because of his scars and Vor tattoos, you will never see him in shorts or short sleeved shirts.

IDENTIFYING MARKS: Illya got into several fights while in prison and killed other inmates on three different occasions. He has a scar on his neck where another inmate attempted to slit his throat with a straight razor and a > shaped scar at the outer edge of his right eye, also earned in a prison fight. As tradition he got several prison tattoos. They don't go below his knees or elbows or above his neck line. Which gives him the freedom to interact with 'polite' society'. He has the Spetsnaz bat emblem on his right hip and GRU emblem on his left - these two are of higher quality and older and may predate his involvement in the Vor.
On his knees and shoulders are the eight pointed stars of a Vor leader. On his right thigh, there is a tattoo of a sniper rifle, in a band on his R arm are 13 crosses - indicating his 13 kills during his Spetsnaz career, on the left bicep are four coffins one of which has the GRU symbol on it (for the officer he killed) the other three are black for the prison inmates he is known to have killed. He has other tattoos including a crucifix on his chest, a grim reaper carrying a sniper rifle instead of a scythe on his right flank, on his inner left wrist he has the name 'Hammer', in cyrillic "Хаммер" which was his nickname in prison. He has the words "Вы не можете обогнать пулю" which reads "You cannot outrun a bullet" beneath it. On his back are etched the words "Если вы слышите выстрел моя пуля была предназначена не для вас" which reads "If you hear gunshot my bullet was not meant for you" he also has markings that indicate he was in a military prison in Siberia and that he attempted escape on several occasions. His last escape was successful.


ABILITIES

No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes


STRENGTHS: Illya is quite strong and muscular. For a large man, he is agile and can move very fast. He is also very intelligent. Because of his size and his anger issues, many people overlook this quality and see him as a thug. He has been known to take advantage of the misconception.

SKILLS: In the Spetsnaz, he trained as a sniper, but he is proficient in the use of many weapons, including knives, he is an expert in hand to hand combat, and in the use of explosives. Illya has earned a black belt (4th dan) in Judo, and Russian martial art, Sambo. Other skills: he is an excellent tailor and artist.

PERSONALITY

No one bites back as hard on their anger, none of my pain and woe can show through


Illya is a quiet yet passionate man. Which comes from his difficult and isolated childhood and being a spy for so long. He is very physically active. Lifting weights, running, swimming and parkour. In school as a boy, he excelled in gymnastics. Illya loves extreme sports and has been known to participate in them occasionally. Though he doesn't want to worry his girlfriend too much. He misses the adrenaline rush of working in a dangerous vocation.

He sometimes has a difficult time expressing his feelings and will hold them in until they erupt. Illya explodes and things get broken. He is in therapy for this and is learning how to be more open with his feelings. He is truly honest with them usually only with Sinthia, his girlfriend. He will never blow up in front of anyone, not even Sinthia. But has been known to act out destructively when he is alone. He does love Sinthia and is affectionate only with her. Illya tells her as often as possible. It is something they have both been lacking for so long.

HISTORY

No one knows what it's like to be hated, to be fated, to telling only lies

Born in Moscow, Russia, to Nicolai Kuryakin, a physics professor and Anyanka Kuryakin, former fashion model and later designer. After the death of his father when he was seven years old, his mother supported them by working as a seamstress. It was rumored that in the collapse of the Soviet Union, to keep their home and make sure they had food, she occasionally turned to prostitution. She later started designing clothing and using her contacts in the industry to make a living as a designer. She taught Illya how to sew and helped him find himself as an artist.

His parents grew up in the USSR before the dissolution. His father died while he was still a child and he was raised by his single mother. He was seven years old when the government of the USSR collapsed. Illya grew up in the resulting chaos. His childhood was not idyllic by any means. When he turned eighteen he joined the army figuring it was something to do, regular pay, regular meals, etc... And he did exceedingly well there.

He was recruited from there into Spetsnaz (the GRU's special forces) at the age of twenty and was one of the youngest soldiers ever recruited. During his years there, he studied and became an expert in Judo, Karate, Sambo, marksmanship, surveillance, anti-terrorism tactics and demolitions. He holds a black belt in Judo 4th Dan (Yondan). His talents were brought to the attention of the FSB, he was recruited by the agency at the age of 22 and he became one of the top field agents within three years.

Then something appeared to have gone terribly wrong.

The FSB never heard of him. He was dishonorably discharged from the Spetsnaz and imprisoned in Siberia for insubordination and the murder of a superior officer. In prison he became involved with the Vor v Zakone (the Russian mafia.)

After he escaped prison he was hired by Ivan Ivanovich, a mafia boss, to be his bodyguard, perform acts of general thuggery, and the occasional assassination (this is actually his main occupation. He works as a bodyguard or appears to work as a bodyguard because of his intimidating size, at 6'5" and with his training and qualifications, seriously who wouldn't be intimidated?) When Ivan returned to New York, where he owns several holdings including a restaurant that serves traditional Russian cuisine, he took Illya with him. Occasionally, people remark upon how handsome he is and how he can't have had the career his tattoos proclaim and still be so 'pretty.' Anyone who makes the mistake of saying that to his face however, will learn how he earned them the hard way.

However, Illya is still working for the FSB in an effort to infiltrate and bring down the criminal organization in the form of a joint effort between the government of Russia and the US. Thanks to Illya's work they will have enough information to arrest Ivan and most of the higher ranking men in his organization.



ILLYA
But my dreams they aren't as empty
as my conscience seems to be



FULL NAME: ILLYA KURYAKIN
VERSE: Modern AU
NICKNAMES: Red Peril, Bear, Hammer
CURRENT AGE: 32
DATE OF BIRTH: July 25, 1983
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS: Sinthia Schmidt and Napoleon Solo
SEXUALITY: Bisexual
OCCUPATION: Fashion designer
CURRENT RESIDENCE: New York & Paris



RANDOM FACTS


I have hours, only lonely, my love is vengeance that's never free



•Illya is an accomplished musician. He plays guitar, piano, and cello.

•He is an excellent artist. He paints, draws, and designs haute couture clothing.

•He loves extreme sports and the outdoors. Illya only occasionally participates in them.

•Recently taught himself how to knit. He is still just learning, but has knitted several thick warm throws that reside on the back of their couch. Still a beginner, he has made some hats, scarves, and is now working on learning how to make socks.




✖ ✖ ✖


OOC

NAME: Shan
AIM: srmowatt
EMAIL: srmowatt@aol.com
AVAILABILITY: Pacific Time Zone US

red_peril: (Smirk)
2030-02-20 10:24 pm
Entry tags:

Permissions Post -- Modern AU

CHARACTER NAME: Illya Kuryakin
CHARACTER SERIES: The Man from UNCLE (2015 movie)

[OOC]
This is the permissions list for OOC (out of character), activity.
Answer the following questions with "yes" or "no", as well as additional information if desired.

Backtagging: Yes
Threadhopping: Sure
Fourthwalling: You can. But if Illya catches you, he will stare at you as if you're nuts.
Offensive subjects (elaborate):

[IC]
This is the permissions list for IC (in-character), activity.
Answer the following questions with "yes" or "no", as well as additional information if desired. With IC permissions, it's a good idea to elaborate on what other players can expect from your character if they choose to do any of the following:

Hugging this character: Yes, if you are friends.
Kissing this character: Yes. See above. He would be shocked if a stranger kissed him.
Flirting with this character: Flirting is OK. He may flirt back.
Fighting with this character: Yes. Though be warned, he has a volatile temper and is a well trained former Spetsnaz sniper and Agent of FSB.
Injuring this character (include limits and severity): Yes, he can be injured. Ask and plot first.
Killing this character: No.
Using telepathy/mind reading abilities on this character: Yes. But ask first.
Warnings: Do not touch his watch or say anything disparaging against his mother. This character does have explosive anger disorder, is quite physically strong and does occasionally lose control. Furniture has been damaged. He can also occasionally be self destructive. Illya is in therapy for this.

Powers: None.

Get your own copy of the IC/OOC Permissions meme!
red_peril: (Default)
2019-10-26 09:26 pm
Entry tags:

Full Moon Fever for Sinthia

Illya heard the cry of an animal from a distance, his large head coming up out of the water. It was a sight to see such a big male polar bear emerging from a lake in the Sierra Nevada mountains in California. Polar bears not being native to the area. There was another cry. The animal making the sounds seemed terribly hurt. And not too far away. He climbed out of the water and shook himself dry, then at a quick pace, he headed in the direction of the sounds. Pushing through brush and trees as if they were not there. At times he was grateful that when he changed, it was into a larger animal.

It didn't take long for him to cover the distance. The sound was coming from below the ridge of the hill. There was something there, hidden by brush and trees. It was badly hurt, the smell of blood was proof of that. Illya carefully climbed down the steep hill. He pushed through a heavy thicket of brambles and on the other side of it was... a snow leopard? It's leg caught in one of those horrible steel jawed traps.
red_peril: (Smile)
2019-01-12 11:51 am
Entry tags:

Hotel Mumbai -- for Sinthia

When Illya was asked to travel to Mumbai India for a fashion show, he jumped at the chance. It was an unusual location for fashion. Not nearly as glamorous as Paris or London, but nonetheless, it would be an adventure. He had not been to India before and it seemed like an excellent opportunity for a family vacation. Illya would work the show for the first week, then he would have a week to spend with Sinthia and his girls exploring the city and buying souvenirs. He and Sinthia were of the same mind on that. Why buy the girls presents from Mumbai when they could go with their parents and have memories of a grand adventure.

When they arrived, the heat took a little getting used to. Their small family coming from the Winter in France where it was very cold and rainy to Mumbai where it was almost 90 degrees and sweltering in January. He finished the show the second night they were there, doing incredibly well. He had made connections with local silk merchants for some new cloth. Illya had been invited back for the next show in a year, and several buyers had made contact about carrying his line of children's clothing. All done with the business end of things, Illya could relax.

He was more than happy to play in the pool with his three year old twin girls, Mischa and Margot. While Sinthia stretched out on one of the lounges in the sun to watch them play and enjoy a non-alcoholic mock-tail. Alcohol was off the menu since she had recently announced that she was pregnant with their third child. Mischa and Margot were convinced it would be a boy.


Their girls loved the warm weather and having access to a swimming pool. Where else could you swim in January and be warm? Both of them could dog-paddle now at Illya's instruction. They were fearless when it came to the water and he was teaching them to swim under water. Soon they would be swimming like they were born to it. Illya tossed out a pair of weighted rings into the deeper area of the children's pool, it was only 4 feet deep there and he stood with the water up to his waist. Even though they were wearing life jackets, Illya wanted to keep in easy reach if one of the girls got into trouble. "OK, my darlings, get them."

Squealing with delight, the girls dove for the rings. They loved this game and were getting quite good at it. "Mischa keep kicking, you're almost there." Her twin popped to the surface, laughing and floating there with a blue rubber ring in hand. "Good job Margot." She swam over and handed her father the ring. A few minutes later, Mischa came up with the other one. "Excellent! You're both doing very good. Again?" They both nodded their heads vigorously. "OK, last time," Illya said and he threw the rings in for them again. After this, they would dry off and get lunch and probably be ready for nap time.
red_peril: (Default)
2018-09-17 08:26 pm
Entry tags:

I'm too sexy for this... jumper? For Sinthia

Illya's stomach was churning. He was backstage at another Paris fashion event. His second in a matter of months. This time it was Fall/Winter fashions instead of Summer and he was introducing a line of children's clothing as well as adults. Although he was terribly nervous, he was rather enjoying the experience. In the last year he had discovered that he was very compatible with children. Particularly his twin daughters. Who were out in the audience with Sinthia. Before it started he peeked out from behind the curtain and saw her sitting with Mischa and Margot. He gave Sinthia a wink and got back to work, putting the final touches on the model's outfits before they stepped out on stage.

He adjusted the bow in one little girl's hair. It was a rather fetching shade of pink against her dark brown hair. Leila was five years old and had a precocious smile. "You look adorable," he told her.

"Thank you," she said. The young lady was older than either of his girls and she stared up at him with big eyes. He must have seemed like a giant to her.
red_peril: (You can get back on your horse now)
2018-06-09 03:35 pm
Entry tags:

Fashion Week Paris - for Ill_take_bottom

He was over the moon that they had invited him to show his work in Paris, but he was also very nervous. This was Illya's first time as a designer doing Fashion Week. In Paris, no less.

It made the somewhat grouchy fashionista even more so. His assistant was luckily thick skinned or she would have gone home in tears half a dozen times already. His cat walk show was fourth in line and following up far more famous designers with huge companies. He was following Givenchy, and Yamamoto. These were incredibly powerful fashion houses. The Kuryakin house label consisted of Illya and his assistant Moira. He did all of the design work and a good deal of the sewing. If this went well, it would work into more money and he could outsource sewing part of the work and concentrate just on designing.

He was glad to have Napoleon there. Luckily, he had used Napoleon as a model before and had enough time ahead to make clothing that fit his muscular frame. That meant less adjusting just before going on stage. The classic cut suit looked perfect on him. Illya did stop Napoleon before he went onstage and nervously adjusted his tie. He couldn't hide the shaking in his hands.
red_peril: (Default)
2018-06-02 08:29 pm
Entry tags:

For Sinthia, Wedding Plans

It still felt like something from a dream. Illya had proposed to Sinthia a couple of months before. Surprising her with a Faberge ring at her work. The date they had chosen was only a few months away.

"Avi, buddy, hold still just a little longer," Illya told the dog and petted him before pinning the tuxedo's hem so it wouldn't interfere with the dog's tail. It would come down just to his hips. He had the dog up on his work table, so he didn't have to bend down to work. The fabric was a fabulous silver silk brocade. Far too expensive in most people's view for a dog's tuxedo but how many times would he and Sinthia get married. Luckily for the tall Russian, his furry friend liked Illya enough that he actually was very patient with being fussed over. Illya carefully placed the pins, "You are being such a good boy."
red_peril: (Default)
2018-02-19 12:51 pm
Entry tags:

Surprise for Sinthia PSL for Sist3r_sin

Illya had arranged everything. He'd gone to Sinthia's work, the Christie's auction house in Paris. Carefully avoiding her office and work area, he made his way to her supervisor's office. Once he told her department's supervisor, Pierre Amrouche, what he had in mind, he was more than happy to be a co-conspirator in this scheme.

Pierre showed him where he could wait and not be seen as Sinthia examined the 'artifact' that he had brought. After Illya had opened the box and set it's contents on the well lighted work table. It looked very much like a cobalt blue and white enamel Faberge egg box. Illya would not blame her if she thought it was a reproduction. It was a modern box after all. But the box was not what was important. It was just there to present the object inside. Which was indeed, Faberge, and antique. As soon as he'd seen the ring at the Faberge store, he'd known it would be Sinthia's. It was made of cobalt blue enameled gold and set with three exquisitely cut diamonds. A little elaborate for an engagement ring, Illya knew, but it brought back pleasant memories of their first date at the Metropolitan Museum's exhibit of Faberge eggs. He took up his position in an A/V closet across from the work room and Pierre went to her office to get her.

Amrouche knocked on the open door gently to get her attention. "Sinthia, I have a piece that needs your expertise. The owner wants it appraised right away."
red_peril: (Profile 2)
2017-04-27 08:18 pm
Entry tags:

An evening out for ill_take_bottom

After the conclusion of their adventures in Istanbul, the three spies had been sent to the American city. Waverly informed them that this would be the new headquarters of the fledgling U.N.C.L.E. agency. Illya had only been there for a few weeks and was still learning his way around New York. He spent some of his spare time studying maps of the city, so the little cafe was fairly easy to find. It was only a short distance from U.N.C.L.E.'s new headquarters.

He went inside and took a seat in a booth by the window. Cowboy was no where to be seen. He had arrived ahead of Solo. The waitress sauntered over and offered him coffee. "Tea, please. With lemon." She gave him a funny look and a menu. She returned a minute or so later with a cup of hot black tea with a wedge of lemon on the side. He got another funny look from her when he told her he would wait to order until his companion had arrived.
red_peril: (Profile)
2016-04-07 06:26 am
Entry tags:

Physical Therapy for Sist3r_Sin

"Come on, don't stop now. Give me ten more reps." The physical therapist was very attractive. He had dark hair and blue eyes that had a mischievous sparkle to them. Though he seemed irritatingly pleased at the pain that Illya was experiencing. The tag on his t-shirt read N. Solo, PT. The dark t-shirt showed off his own impressively muscular physique.

Illya had been glad to get the stupid splint off. Not so much to meet the physical therapist. But if he intended ever to raise his right arm above his head again, he would have to do it. So, sweating and growling as he lifted the weight ten more times. He kept his movements precise, but by the end, his arm was shaking, his shoulder throbbing, and he had a keen desire to punch the physical therapist in the face. No matter how attractive that face was. Still, he didn't stop until the reps were done.

"Good job," he said as Illya set down the weights. Illya was panting and his weak muscles trembled. "Lay down and we'll get some deep ultrasonic massage for it. It'll make it feel really good." Illya laid back on the bench as he was asked. He hated feeling weak. But nearly two full months in a hospital bed with no exercise at all had made Illya lose some of his muscle tone. Especially in his injured right arm. It would take a while to get back into shape. He watched the physical therapist roll a piece of equipment into the room.

After putting on a pair of gloves, he squirted some gel onto Illya's wounded shoulder. He let out a little gasp at how cold it was. Then Solo turned on the massager and applied the machine to his shoulder. "Bozhe moy..." he sighed as the ultrasonic waves and the gel started to heat as well as cool.

"What?" Solo asked.

"Is Russian for 'My god.' That feels very good," he sighed, relaxing as Solo worked on him. This angle gave him a different perspective on the man's face. Illya's eyes were especially drawn to his lips. They looked so kissable. Solo's blue eyes caught him staring and he smiled. He had not been attracted like this to anyone other than Sinthia in a very long time.

"It should feel good," Solo said, very amused by the Russian's attention. "You have beautiful eyes, by the way."

"Really?" he looked at the man's eyes directly. Could it be that he was feeling a similar attraction? Illya's eyes softened and he chanced a smile.
red_peril: (Behind)
2016-03-28 08:31 pm
Entry tags:

For Sist3r_Sin - Learning to Think Outside of the Box

He timed himself opening the lock. Only 20 seconds. It was down a little but he needed more practice. Solo never let him forget their first mission together where he couldn't pick a simple lock.

You are now entering the Twilight Zone )
red_peril: (muddy)
2016-03-09 11:47 am
Entry tags:

The End - For Sinthia

(Takes place one week after this entry. http://red-peril.dreamwidth.org/2504.html)

He tucked his shirt into his pants, the bulletproof vest with it's squib packs of blood in place. Illya didn't even have time to text Sinthia to let her know that the conclusion of the mission was happening now. His handlers had intercepted him on his way to work as he stopped to get coffee that morning before heading to Ivan's restaurant.

Everything comes undone. )
red_peril: (Wanna fight?)
2016-03-01 06:37 am
Entry tags:

For Sinthia

Illya was still a bit confused about the living arrangements with Sinthia and Sam. Rather than taking his frustrations out on furniture or people, he was currently pounding away at a heavy punching bag at Delflorio's. It was an old fashioned gym a couple of blocks from his apartment. Old fashioned in that there was no fancy equipment, no stair steppers, no treadmills, or ellipticals. No women looking for Zumba classes or whatever. No women were allowed. There was a boxing ring, punching bags, a couple of sets of well used weights, an ancient yet usable rowing machine. He didn't feel as if he had to impress anyone. They were used to seeing the big Russian there. He'd had a membership ever since he moved to the United States. He didn't usually draw stares at Delflorio's, unless someone new came in. He didn't have to hide the tattoos as much as if he'd gone to a fancier place. He'd been working out for over an hour now. Illya had started with warming up, jumping rope, and then working at the punching bag. Still after nearly an hour, he was pounding on the bag as if he meant to kill someone.

After his conversation with Sam and learning that the guy was roommates with his girlfriend in a studio apartment with only one bed, he was a little confused and insecure. At first, he had wondered if he had done something wrong. Perhaps this arrangement with Sam was her way of telling him to bugger off. But then Sam had said he had his own girlfriend. Still, Illya felt like he had committed some sort of faux pas.

How did that work? Did Sam sleep at his girlfriend's place? Either way, if he'd known there was a roommate involved, he probably would not have been making out on the couch in the living room with Sinthia if there was the possibility that someone might walk in on them. He was a very private person when it came to it. Especially in romantic relationships. He had tried calling Sinthia to talk about his concerns with her, but he got her answering machine. Which he didn't want to talk to. After a couple of times, he gave up. Perhaps she was busy at her job. Or maybe she did not want to talk to him.

Delflorio wandered by at one point and watched him for a few minutes. "Good form. You training for a boxing match?" The old man asked. He must have been in his nineties. His hair was white and his face showed his age. But anyone who knew the old man, knew that the owner was a former boxer who could still throw a punch. Illya answered with a curt, "No." The old man warned, "You know, kid, if you break it, you bought it." "Da. I know," he replied, continuing to wail on the bag with his fists.
red_peril: (Can't believe you said that)
2016-01-10 07:49 am
Entry tags:

For Sist3r_Sin -- The New Tattoo

Illya's eyebrows raised when Ivan's driver pulled the car to a stop and parked in front of the tattoo parlor. The sign was in Russian. It was not a place for hipsters and tourists to get inked. It was almost exclusively used by the Vor. The man who owned it was an old friend of his boss' from Russia. The driver got out and opened the door. As usual, Illya got out first, and then his employer. In truth they were more than that. By saving the old man's life, he had earned a permanent place in the family.

"Come, you have earned a new mark, Kuryakin," Ivan told him. He followed his boss inside and watched as he greeted the owner, Victor, with a kiss on the cheek and a handshake. "Go, take off your shirt and lie down."

He listened to the two old men talking softly in Russian as Illya went to the table toward the back of the shop and removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Sliding the shirt off revealed his story to everyone who knew how to read it. He laid down on the table on his back, revealing a couple of recently healed scars. One on his chest bisected the crucifix, cutting Jesus in half and angled toward his heart. The other, raked down well developed abdominal muscles on his left side. These were from the knife wounds he had taken for Ivan. His boss sat down in the back in a chair and picked up one of the Russian newspapers lying there.

The tattooist came and sat down by Illya, pulling on a pair of neoprene gloves and looking over the display of prison and military tattoos. The new tattoo would be different. Made with professional ink and the artwork would be better defined. The tattooist cleaned the area around his abdominal scar with alcohol and looked over the space. Unlike American tattooists, he would not be working from flash, but from memory.

Illya relaxed while the artist prepared his inks. Today he would be getting the Ivanoff family crest, held by a bear. A mark that he was a protector of the family.