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[roman--baranovsky]

[roman--baranovsky]

[roman--baranovsky]

just saying he got his wish 

06: How do you want to die?

Roman really wants to die in an epic fight. He doesn’t want a boring death, he wants one that will be remembered. 

[roman--baranovsky]

etiennecanet​:

Étienne knew that what had happened at the AU would haunt him for the rest of his days. He knew that because he stayed alive meant that the woman he cared for was taken. Not only taken but tortured, mutilated and God knows what else. That would always be on his conscience, it would always be his fault.

But this was something he could do. The revenge was always sweeter when it was done by his own hands. Étienne Canet had earned his title of most respected man in Paris, he had worked his way through mastering control of his anger, mastering the control of his emotions. But that did not mean he was not able to be cruel, it did not mean he was not able to kill those who deserved to be murdered by his hand. 

This vile scum of a man had touched the woman he cared for, had dared to cause her hair, pain. Even at war, there were limits to everything, at least it was the rules he had gone by throughout his years in the mob. Be human, know that the people you kill have families, someone still cares for them. It was what he used to say to the people who still heard him. But Roman Baranovsky deserved none of that. He didn’t deserve to have an open casket funeral where people could mourn him, - he deserved to be buried, burned and put in the furthest corner - forgotten by everyone. 

As he felt the spit on his face, the Frenchman didn’t even move to clean it off. Instead, he lifted him over the edge of the roof, now holding him with both hands and dragged him across. 

“I hope it hurts.”

He said, before he dropped him off the building and waited, waited until he heard his head smash open on the pavement below him.

Au revoir, espèce de merde.

For a moment, it felt like he was flying, just enough for Roman to know what was happening. He had lost - though he wasn’t going to admit it. Not that he had time to, before his next thought there was a searing pain in every part of his body. 

And then it all went black. 

[roman--baranovsky]

etiennecanet​:

It wasn’t a surprise. Even in a fight like this, the Russian would be true to himself - showing off his weakness by bringing a knife to a fistfight. He could feel the knife in him, the blade piercing his skin - but he pulled away fast, moving so that he wouldn’t get the chance to pull it out. Canet knew his boundaries, he knew what would make him weaker.

The punch in the groin made him bend his knees from pain slightly, but he didn’t shout in pain. Just laughed as he spat out to the side, blood and saliva mixed. “C'est ton fin.” He said once more as he got up, moved to Roman and grabbed his shirt once more. Too easy it was for him to drag him closer to the edge of the roof, while taking his other hand and cracking it, breaking it backwards. With a little luck he would be able to pull it off completely. 

Roman kicked, trying to get the man’s knee to dislocate - similarly to what he had done to the annoying one during Fight Club. He couldn’t quite tell what part of the roof they were on, truthfully, Roman didn’t come up here to even think about it. While his hand stretched, he kept aiming. He heard a few of his fingers snap, before he spat directly into the man’s eyes - the bright red mix of blood and saliva perfectly hitting his target. 

[roman--baranovsky]

etiennecanet​:

The jab in his ribs was nothing, and the Frenchman continued to use the wall as a cheese grater for the others mans cheek. It was the stop of the foot that made him jump back. It was unexpected, something a child would use as a last report. 

At this point, Étienne cared so little about the consequences. The only thing he saw when he looked at the scum before him, was how he mutilated the woman he cared for, how he tortured her, how he didn’t even know if he left her alive.

Any other man would have asked, begged for an answer, but Étienne knew better than to trust a single word that came out of a Russian’s mouth. He didn’t want to hear begging; he didn’t want to hear deals made because he didn’t trust it. 

What he wanted was selfish, what he wanted was this man dead. He spat and swore in French, going back at the man, punching his face, hit after hit. He wouldn’t use a gun because he wanted to feel the blood on his own hands.

 “Tu vas tout regretter.” He said, knowing that the other man wouldn’t understand. He didn’t need to. Holding the man by the hum of his shirt, he swung again, this time with his elbow. 

While Roman couldn’t speak French (hell he could barely speak English on a good day), he figured that he should be insulted. It was a safe bet whenever the French were concerned. He could feel the blood running down his face - already hearing the lecture that he would get from Vika whenever she had time to fix him up. 

But the Frenchman had gotten his fun, now it was time for Roman to put an end to it. 

The knife that had been hidden in his pocket was in his hand in an instant, and in the next, embedded into the man’s side. Wasn’t quite where he aimed (and unfortunately didn’t hit anywhere that would be vital), but enough to hurt - especially as he kneed the Frenchman in the groin and then punched him in the fact in quick succession. Two could easily play dirty. “You think I was easy?” Roman taunted, cracking his broken nose into place and wiping away the blood that gushed out of it. “Think again.” 

[roman--baranovsky]

etiennecanet​:

“I never thought you Russians could get any more foolish. However, I was wrong.” 

Oh, there he was, surprising him again. The man obviously did not know much about life, about etiquette. If Étienne wanted to have him dead in the middle of the street, he already would have. It was just like Russians, to think that they all would be as brutal and beastly as they were - giving traumas to those who did not deserve it. 

With a slight smile, the Frenchman nodded his head, and entered the building without fear that Roman would do something. The one thing he could count on, was their brutality. 

“Why don’t we take it up the roof. It is a beautiful night after all, isn’t it?” But he was already making his way up.

Not a long trip, not even leaving him breathless. Étienne now stood on the roof, taking off his coat and tossing it to the side. This was the moment where he could feel his range, where he could allow it to consume him. It was like opening a lid of a jar which had been shut for so long, letting it all free. 

“You know, it is getting pretty old what you do. I think there’s a lesson to be taught.” He took a few steps closer to the Russian scum, grabbing his hair and using it as a leash to drag his face to the closest wall, dragging his cheek against it. “You’re not getting out of this, at all.”

~

The arrogance of the French was something that Roman couldn’t help but be amazed by. They knew his reputation, his murdering the Italians with only his hands, his flawless fight club reputation, and still this man thought that Roman would be scared of his threats. But to the Russian, this was a game - and so he let the Frenchman have the first move. As usual - better to lose at first to determine his opponent’s strengths than to just jump right into it. 

“We will see,” Roman quietly replied, jamming his elbow into the man’s ribcage and then stomping on his foot. He man was strong, that much was clear, but he wanted to see if he was also fast. 

[roman--baranovsky]

etiennecanet​:

@roman–baranovsky

He didn’t care whose bodies he left on the ground, he no longer cared whose blood was on his hands. Each day lasted a year, one longer than the other. And the more time had passed, the angrier the man got. 

There was no reason to believe that Évelyne was alive. The Russians had killed for less, therefore what was the reason for them keeping someone of her status alive? Months had passed and there was no word. The only thing he had was hope, and that in itself was dying. 

But Étienne didn’t give up, he did not give up looking for her, trying to find her, going through both Rutherfords and the Russians, killing for the smallest things. He didn’t care what would happen later, what it would mean. The only thought in his mind was her.

So when the package was delivered, instead of losing his mind, the French soldier went silent. The ones who had been with him did not dare say a word, but for him, this was something good. They were taunting them, trying to show off. The Russian way, and while it wasn’t the head, he wasn’t going to think about anything else.

“You - hand in the freezer.” He ordered one of the men next to him. The chance was too low to save it, but just in case, he had wanted there to be something. “You, and you,” he had pointed at other men.” Take the shreds out, I want a match, I want fucking information.”

It didn’t take long, an hour later an address popped up, and within the minute, Étienne was gone. 

For three hours, he had waited outside, standing ass still as a statue, waiting for the man to show up. He knew who it was going to be, he knew that this was the Russian’s end.

“Move.” He wasn’t going to do it in the street. 

The French bitch’s arm was clearly a statement piece - which was the only reason that he send it while it was still freshly off the woman instead of having it taxidermied first. It wasn’t for his own collection, therefore, it wasn’t worth the money he’d have to spend on it. But in choosing who was getting the statement, he had thought back to the various events that he had been forced to attend with the French there. And Évelyne seemed close to Étienne - which made him the perfect target. 

After all, Roman enjoyed breaking people. Physically, mentally, and when he saw the Frenchman standing outside his apartment building, Roman couldn’t help but smile. Looks like he was going to get to ruin two French fucks instead of just the one. 

“Enjoy your present?” Roman smirked at the man, entering the code to get into the building. If they were going to fight, he wanted somewhere that was going to be fun, but more importantly spacious. And luckily, nobody else in the building seemed to know how to get up to the roof. Roman made a mental note of the weapons that he had with him - figuring if by some power he was out-fought he had backup plans. But he glared at the man as he held the door open waiting for the other to go in. He wasn’t stupid enough to let a Frenchman walk behind him. 

[roman--baranovsky]

ft. @mrofontaine & @roman–baranovsky

[roman--baranovsky]

@etiennecanet

Delivered to Vixen in a box with Etienne’s name on it. Inside the box is a lot of shredded paper and Évelyne’s arm with her middle finger and only her middle finger extended. 

[roman--baranovsky]

anatolyveselov​:

That was what he expected from Roman, the man of a few words. “That’s acceptable.” He was sure him and Vika were going to take the reins on the girls this time. “As long as you enjoy yourself, it is Halloween after all.” Tolya had his own plaything, which had been keeping him busy for the time being. 

~

Roman nodded, the smile on his face showed how much he was looking forward to his plans - and he didn’t expect her to truly resist. The Vixen’s kidnapping made it obvious that she didn’t know how to , “I will. You have any plans? Other than...this,” he stated, waving his hands at the party.

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Broskis GC

Roman: if any1 wants to harass a french fuck here's his numbr: *olivier's number*

Roman: im bord w/ him

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Olivier

Olivier: You are annoying me. JUST TELL ME WHERE SHE IS.

Olivier: I know I asked but you are giving me nothing

Olivier: You're shit.

Roman: Nah

Roman: bye

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Olivier

Olivier: LONDON IS RATHER LARGE.

Olivier: You said sorry? Are you high?

Olivier: who did u know I don't have game!!!!

Roman: not my problem, mayb shell get a infection b4 u find her with how long ur taking

Roman: its obvious

Roman: u asked me

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Olivier

Olivier: How does that make sense if you wont tell me.

Olivier: Also, just asking, if I offered you my tip

Olivier: Would you take it?

Olivier: I'm practising my flirting skills on the one person, I know probably never gets women

Olivier: I'm rather sexy, yano ;)

Roman: i told u london. shld b enogh

Roman: sry 2 french.

Roman: also def get women

Roman: knew u didnt have game

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Olivier

Olivier: I really don't like u.

Olivier: I shoulda gone to specsavers.

Olivier: Should have seen u, and avoided.

Roman: More u txt me more she bleds out.

Roman: Hav fun on ur scavnger hunt

[roman--baranovsky]

Text --> Olivier

Olivier: I'd probably be able to find her, if she could see but I'm guessing the poor girl is blind.

Olivier: Or you put her in the wrong place...I mean you still haven't picked up your glasses.

Olivier: Where have you put her, Roman.

Roman: IDK i didnt check

Roman: Dnt really care

Roman: London