Vasili Babenkov
Vasili Ilya Babenkov
Portrayed By Chris Walters
Gender Male
Date of Birth January 6, 1979
Age 28
Height 5'8"
Weight 162 lbs
Aliases Vasya, Vasili Yegorovich
Alignment Chaotic Evil
Place of Birth Divnogorsk, Siberia, Former Soviet Union
Current Location New York City, NY, USA
Occupation Illegal Boxer, Exxon Operative, Company Agent
Known Relatives Yegor Babenkov (father), Anzhela Babenkov (mother), Antonina Babenkov (sister), galina Babenkov (sister), Vova Chalokaev (uncle)
Significant Other Giselle Muldoon
Known Abilities None
First Appearance Violent Sentiments

Vasili is a social misfit who doesn't play well with others. Rather than accept a life of minimum-wage mediocrity, he has become involved with the Company as one of their field agents. He is arguably one of their most excessively violent operatives, and moonlights as an underground boxer.


Divnogorsk, a small town in Siberia sitting on the Yenisei River, is where Vasili’s life began. His father, Yegor Babenkov, was the son of a local chicken farmer and happened to be visiting with his family when a small group of gypsies came through the town. He met a girl named Anzhela - and the story went as such stories tend to do. They fell in love, Anzhela became pregnant, and the pair moved into Yegor's tiny flat in downtown Moscow. They married in the late fall of 1978, and resumed his work as a low-level enforcer for a local crime family. Life was generally good: the couple's son, Vasili, was born in the cold January of 1979, and his sister Antonina was born a year later. Yegor's success continued beyond the birth of his third child, Galina, but only barely. He eventually annoyed the wrong people, and was soon blacklisted. Fearing an untimely death at the hands of his rivals, Yegor took his family and left the country with the aid of several hefty bribes, settling them back down in Northern Ontario.

Canada was different. Ten-year-old Vasili and his sister Antonina picked up the language much more quickly and fluently than their parents, and were soon exasperated with the insistence that their mother tongue be spoken at home. A few loans enabled Yegor to start up a chicken farm; unglamorous, but a steady and certain method of income that required very little effort. School turned out to be a problem for Vasili, who bullied and abused the other children of his age without mercy. He was expelled from two public schools over his career and scraped by with the most barely acceptable of grades. The only areas in which he excelled were the few classes on mechanics and anything to do with physical education. When he reached high school he would've been an athletic star - if he had earned the grades to place him on a team. As it was, he simply placed his focus on being the baddest, meanest, rottenest kid he could manage. And he managed well. Peppered within his juvenile life was a colorful police record that included transgressions such as petty theft, disorderly conduct, vandalism, and trespassing.

Vasili graduated high school - barely - and was presented with an enthusiastic invitation to never come back again. In great contrast to Vasili were his beloved sisters, who were at the tops of their classes and were universally adored by their teachers and peers. Vasili got himself a job at a nearby gas station that adjoined an auto garage after high school, choosing to completely ignore the dismal option of going to a community college that he would've been expelled from anyway. He got into vehicles in a big way, and soon started buddying up with the mechanics at the garage. After a year of pumping gas he quit and signed on with the garage instead, and thereafter spent his time on rollers underneath various cars brought in for repair and tuneups. He was bored in no time, however, and was dissatisfied with only working on the vehicles - he wanted his own. After some bothering he convinced his mother to contact her brother, Vova Chalokaev, and a month later Vasili boarded a flight back to Moscow.

Confronted with a very different culture than the one he was expecting, the nineteen-year-old found himself living in a cramped two-room apartment with a grand total of seven relatives, including his uncle Vova. His job-search was unsuccessful. Eventually, though, he met up with a group of young Russians who introduced him to the world of underground boxing - which seemed to be a perfect opportunity. Vasili signed up in a heartbeat, and was promptly and soundly beaten in his first fight. He was also beaten in his second. With his third, however, came a turnaround - and he began fighting his way through every paycheck, earning as much as he could make betting on himself. He came to be fairly well-known during the course of the next two years, but when he was offered a position with the same family that had employed his father he declined and immediately bought himself a ticket back to Canada in the late summer of the year 2000. He didn't return to his parents' chicken farm, though - he stayed in the country only long enough to purchase his first motorcycle, a BMW K 100 RT. It was a relatively ancient bike, manufactured in '85, but it was his - and that was all that mattered.

Vasili Babenkov crossed the Canadian-American border on that bike, armed with bribes and a false American passport. He was soon pumping gas again at the side of the road on a lonely stretch of highway in northern New York State, but it suited him for a time until he once again grew bored. According to the people whose cars he topped off generously, New York City was The Place to become un-bored, so once again the Russian packed his bag and headed south. It took a while for him to get accustomed to the way things worked in the Big Apple, but after some intense searching Vasili found the reject's version of a fight club. It wasn't boxing, but it was something he knew by heart and so he once again started battering human flesh for money. His constitution seemed almost superhuman to the relatively delicate wannabes who came up against him, a thought echoed by a Company agent who frequented the basement fighting rings. One night after a particularly rough fight Vasili found himself bagged - but as it happened he didn't get tagged, because it became clear that he wasn't Evolved. The mistake was admitted and apologized for, and a suspicious Vasili began asking lots of questions. It had already been recognized that the young immigrant was something special - something violent and barely controlled - and it occurred to a few select agents that he was something that, with effort, could be contained and then let loose upon specific targets. Thusly was Vasili offered a place in the Company.

He was set up with a modest apartment in New York City. Intense physical and combat training followed, honing his every last skill and muscle to a level of perfection that Vasili himself previously thought himself incapable of. He was eventually partnered with an Evolved man a few years his senior named Julius Heaton, who he very much Did Not Get Along With. They've been working together for quite some time now, and though they go through constant conflict they are an almost depressingly effective force. Julius is the brains of the pair, though Vasili is not by any means stupid. Julius is the diplomacy, the finesse, the shining veneer - and Vasili is the blunt instrument used to hammer the unlucky into submission. All in all, though, Vasili's situation could be worse than being paid to hit things until they stop moving.



A knight in shining armor Vasili is not. He lies and cheats when it suits him, has almost no concept of chivalry or honor, and considers innocent bystanders to be expendable in any and all circumstances. If he's helpful it's because he's feeling off that day, and he regards most forms of authority as totalitarian monsters trying to keep him from 'being himself'. He doesn't like sharing his toys and is very bad with playing with others - all in all, he's still that snotty little kid he was when he was still in grade school.

Other parts of him have matured. His personal discipline is almost unparalleled when it comes to physical upkeep, and he's largely self-sufficient in terms of pleasure and finances. It's rare for him to arrive at a designated place not on time, and if he isn't there when he's said he'll be there he's not going to get there at all. His word of honor is mostly meaningless; he'll smile at you one minute and punch you the next, and he's extremely mercurial in his moods. Above all, though, Vasili is after two things: thrills and fun. He tends towards the spontaneous, and firmly believes that most of the Evolved population is bound to misuse their powers at some time or another, which he uses to justify his (generally rotten) treatment of them.

Vasili tends to be easily frustrated when things don't go his way, and often either gives up completely or launches an inappropriately intense effort to achieve whatever it is that's struck his fancy. He has been accused of having ADHD more than once, and is never really happy unless he's doing something physically stimulating. As a very slow reader, reading exasperates him to the point at which he tries to avoid it at all costs. Those with an abundance of book-learning are generally looked down upon as weaklings. He takes Canadian jokes very personally, and considers himself to be completely Russian despite his mixed upbringing. People are better off not mentioning gypsies to him at all.

Physical Description

This man isn't especially intimidating height-wise since he stands at only five-foot-eight, but he's definitely no slouch about keeping himself in shape. Corded, lean muscle grips at his bone structure and bulges every now and again underneath his pale skin when tensed. The man has a round, almost babyish face and a large ears and nose coupled with constantly-knitted brows that steep over two blue eyes. The turf of his scalp is home to little more than half an inch of straw-blond hair done in a slightly long (and gelled) buzz cut for ease of care and lack of caring. Scars score his flesh in odd places, appearing here and there with irregularity. Some look like they've been caused by knives or gunfire burns, and his hands are an absolute mess of ancient slash-marks. Despite obviously not being the type to shy away from grittier physical activity, the man - who seems to be in his late twenties - tends to dress in a manner that pays very close attention to recent fashions, and he's rarely found in public without a fresh and clean wardrobe. Typical garb ranges from tailored suits to designer jeans and jackets, running the gauntlet from fashionably shabby to sharp.


  • Giselle Muldoon - the girlfriend.
  • Julius Heaton - the partner.



"Take it Like a Man" - The Offspring
"Harder to Breathe" - Maroon 5

Notes and Sundries

  • [Border Hopper] Since his family had never legally immigrated to Canada, Vasili is still officially considered to be a former-Soviet citizen of Russia. He does not have a green card, and is in the United States illegally with the aid of fake documents.
  • [Crotchrockets] Vroom, vroom. Motor vehicles with two wheels attract Vasili like a bee to honey. Forget the fancy-schmancy classic cars - he'll take a shiny new motorcycle any day. At the moment he is the proud owner of a black 2007 Harley Davidson VRSCDX Night Rod Special. It is a recent purchase.
  • [Current Girlfriend] Her name? Giselle Muldoon. Her job? Another Company agent and a certified human - not one of them Evolved folk. Vasili and Giselle have been working with each other on and off as their units get assigned to the same tasks, and recently they've begun to enjoy each others' company so much that they've formed an actual relationship. They've been seeing each other for a couple of months.
  • [Ex-Girlfriend] During his time in New York City Vasili met a girl named Nadia Ward. A third-generation Russian immigrant, the two of them got along well. They were together for over a year and had some good times - until she decided to take the next step in the relationship and revealed to her boyfriend that she had the wondrous ability to exercise a limited degree of control over the temperature of matter. All of the perfectly-chilled beers and vodkas suddenly made sense, and Vasili promptly turned Nadia over to the Company without a second thought. He has not seen her since though she has been bagged, tagged, and released back into the general population. Why? Because she left him. Duh.
  • [iFail] If it has buttons and a shiny screen Vasili can't make it work. For reals. Despite being a member of the generation where electronics really began to boom, he's as baffled by computers and iPods and even cell phones as your average octogenarian grandma. The simple act of searching Google gives him issues. Yeah - It's that bad. If you're smart, you'll make sure he never gets within a hundred yards of your precious plasma screen.
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