Gregori Dobriynin
" Let's be real clear here for a second. Our jobs suck. Period. Unfortunately, our jobs are the only way to gain profit in a world of suck, kiddo.
So, buck up. You're in for a ride."
Age: 48 years old, 5 months, 7 days, 3 minutes, 15 seconds, 1 millisecond and counting.
Gender: Male.
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic-Horror-Sci-Fi
Personality: Surveyors lie in a cold sweat every night wondering if it's tomorrow or the day after next that they'll meet a grisly end. For Gregori? It's wondering whether or not he'll have the canned borscht or the over-burnt spam and eggs tomorrow morning for breakfast.
A loud and boisterous individual, Gregori seems unnervingly enthusiastic and calm to most of his fellow surveyors as he wades through muck and horrendous post apocalyptic abominations everyday, humming the Polish National Anthem softly to the rhythm of his true-and-trident Kalashnikov. For some, Gregori appears to be the definition of what a Surveyor should aspire to become. For others, they're making bets on when Gregori will die due to his recklessness.
Gregori mostly acts as a big brother to new surveyors who join the force and places it upon himself as the unofficial 'welcoming' committee for the Surveyor Corps, trying to soothe their concerns and lightening the dreary nature of their job one step at a time. Recruits are initially off-put and disturbed by Gregori cheerful disposition but soon warm up towards him.
"
SAY CHEESE!"
Pictured: December 13th, Gregori celebrating Christmas early by taking a photo near a nuclear safety sign.
However, for all his grating lack of worry, Gregori is jaded and weary from nearly two decades staying inside the ruined wastes of Vladivostok and rotating between nearly 15 surveyor squads during his tenure. His well-acted facade and the numerous amount of friendships he has formed in the Corps are the only thing keeping him from walking into a highly radioactive area without proper N.B.C protection.
Occupation: Gregori works as a top-ranking Surveyor, considered primitive mercenaries by the public eye, as they work to scout, detail and survey the radioactive hostile environment of the Crevasse, a large expanse of Russian territory that was host to a large incidental nuclear explosion. The large amount of tasks that a Surveyor is expected to do is phenomenal such as.....
- Exterminating and culling mutated creatures and denizens that could pose a safety hazard to the world civilian populations.
- Able to be adept in cartography and draw real-sized maps of the surrounding environment.
- Work as a federal prospector of classified data and radioactive artifacts for the Russian Government.
The tasks that a Surveyor is expected to do is one too many.
Background: Gregori was born in the stifling-high-upper class environment of the Polish Elite, to a politician who was gunning to become the President of Poland and a wife who most likely married him out of convenience. Receiving a life of luxury and relentless grooming by his dad to support him politically, Gregori said to his mother and father that he could never possibly make it up to them for the privileged life he received and that he would resolve to help his family in whatever way possible.
At least, that was his parents thought when they found a letter scrawled with the words ' Just Kidding. I Lied.' on their coffee table. Gregori was young, naive and desired the taste of adventure, believing the only way he could find it was joining the Surveyor Corps. The news of this incident became the laughing-stock of the entire nation as Gregori laughed along with several other recruits watching the public interview of his parents on TV.
Since then, Gregori has served the Surveyor Corps for a period of 28 years, without any rest, taking his holidays and breaks within the ruins of Vladivostok, as he slowly became married to the life of a Surveyor.
Weapons
Gregori has operated a large range of weaponry during his tenure as a Surveyor from MG-42 machine guns, Saiga-12 Shotguns, Dragunov Sniper Rifles and RPGs but his most favourite instrument of death, by far, is his Kalashnikov.
Affectionately named ' Badger', Gregori's 5.56 chambered AK-47 has been heavily modified during his 28 year stay in Vladivostok, using whatever spare parts there are available to repair his rifle and using most of his wages to buy ammunition and parts on the illegal Black-Market located in Vladivostok for his rifle. Duct tape is woven around the barrel and handles for better gripping and reinforcement. Most of the stock has been replaced and carved out of the ancient woods that surround Vladivostok. Badger has been fired for a innumerable amount of times, caked in mud, broken in half, chewed by mutants, run over by vehicles and still functions as if it was brand new.
Gregori's rifle is modified with whatever attachments are needed for the mission detail, located in Gregori's bunk, to suit the mission. Extended barrels, grenade launchers, drum magazines, bayonets, whatever is needed to suit the job.
Other than his venerable Kalashnikov, Gregori usually carries a assortment of grenades, a general big fucking knife and a back-up weapon just in case Badger dies in combat.
Abilities
Gregori is a well-experienced and accomplished surveyor that is considered a veteran of the occupation by many. Inside Gregori's mind contains a general treasure trove of knowledge about the general fauna and flora encountered within the radioactive regions of Vladivostok and has faced many of them in combat before.
Gregori also regularly undergoes a daily physical training regimen to keep his body in tip-top shape despite its wavering condition for the mile-long treks into Vladivostok that he has to endure everyday.
Intro Post
Just a jaunt into a metro, they said. It'll be easy for a surveyor of your caliber, they said. Nothing down there, they said.
Hold your breath. Wait. Slowly. Slowly......
It twitched for a second as its hideous head turned around slowly, saliva drooling out of its maw, as Gregori kept careful to keep out of its line of sight, aiming the barrel at the back of its neck.
He squeezed the cold trigger, his pulse briefly skipping as Badger pushed back into his shoulder backwards with a dull thud. The bullet did what it was meant to. Make something living not living anymore. Or, in this case, cause the mutie's head to explode like a wet grape. A spray of blood splashed upon his clothes, droplets of red slowly sliding down the forefront of his lens.
Quick, painless and efficient. Now, all that was left to do was....
Wait a second. Something didn't seem right. How could he make one single mistake? He looked towards his coat for a second, trying to examine it through the foggy googles of his gas mask. No, it couldn't be. No. He'd been so careful! Wet thumps of flesh were audible behind him as a growling noise picked up, the footfalls of the mutant that had been following him quickening in pace. He stared for a moment at the splatter of blood on his coat-tail before swearing out loud, looking up to the heavens.
" Are you fucking kidding me? I JUST GOT THIS CLEANED!"
