welcome to lorem (ipsum)!
Ipsum. A mega-city that is located beachside, with mountains and a river surrounding its expansive homes and towering buildings. The city is beyond beautiful... yet none of the residents have any idea how they arrived, and have yet to leave, because Ipsum is a city you can never leave -- not by choice. People appear here without any knowledge where they are, no one knows what country or world they are even in. Yet, the city still provides for her people. Jobs, homes, goods are all readily available, and there is a place for everyone, be it the good or bad — Ipsum shall provide.
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Yuri!!! On Ice
Student / Athlete
Yuri PlisetskyYuri!!! On Ice
From a young age, the small blonde was made aware of how much of a burden he was to his mother. Who honestly wanted to retire early to raise a brat they didn't want in the first place? Letting go of the comfy lifestyle they worked day and night to achieve just because of one mistake, one tiny slip up that resulted in a hungry, wailing mouth to feed. Having to move from a lavish one bedroom flat in the middle of the city back to her father's dinky home because the man that knocked her up decided to bolt as soon as he found out that there was more to the recent weight gain than not strictly counting calories like she was ‘supposed’ to. Yeah, she wasn't the type to hide the truth from the bright-eyed boy, but as sad as it may sound; his childhood was not completely terrible. Yuri’s very own mother may not have cared whether he lived or died, but the only male figure he would ever have the joy of knowing made sure that he was fed--always wanting wee Yuratchka to have a warm, full belly and a cozy bed to sleep in.
Nikolai Plisetsky, his grandfather, had always been and will always be the main reason why there was a reason to push himself so hard. The old man gave him the fire to become more than a snot-nosed kid tossed into a cruel society. It was him that surely kept the youth from being orphaned when his mother found it easier to run and depend on vodka to get her through the cold winter nights of her frigid heart. It was not as if there was much time to pay attention to the fact that she up and left overnight, nor did Yuri honestly care. At the end of the day, as long as his grandfather held his hand and supported him, then he was fine. The young boy was always looking for a way to aide his grandpa, just as he always did for the youth...but it wasn't until he introduced the blond to the ice rink that Yuri would realize how he would go about it. At the tender age of 4, Nikolai (grandfather) took it upon himself to entertain the tiny boy one afternoon--the memory filtering in like it happened only yesterday. The slip and slide of the ice beneath his wobbly skates, how many times his bottom almost hit the ground just to be caught before he hit the frozen floor of the small rink. In those moments spent with the elder, Yuri felt alive--there was a spark, a connection...even if said connection was his tail end meeting cold ground below.
For the next few years, Yuri knows that his love for the ice has grown to a fever pitch; never allowing himself to shut up about the sport he found so much drive for. Learning to skate was not just something the youth wanted to do, it was something he felt he needed to do. His tiny heart drawn to the rink like a moth to a bright porch light in the middle of the night. Had it been anyone but his rock supporting him, there was doubt that he would have able to grasp his fiery passion so quickly. His grandpa, even though they were not in a situation where they could afford to be careless with their funds, found enough to pay for Yuri’s training. By age 6, he had helped the young athlete flourish, allowing him to break from his shell and allowing Yuri to spread his wings. Knowing that even if he should fall, Nikolai was there to pick the boy back up, setting him on solid ground in the midst of none.
There was so much that he wanted to pay him back for, even in his youth, Yuri was aware of how much the old man struggled to raise him with such limited means. Watching him work himself to the bone sparked the promise he made to himself, swearing that once he was discovered, once he could earn a living for the skills he had been honing and the natural talent that resided within his body--it would be then that he would make sure that his grandfather never had to worry about the price of living ever again. Even if it meant spending every last rubble of his salary, Yuri would do his damnedest to provide for the man that pressed so much love and hope unto his person.
When the time came and it was necessary to press himself out further, Nikolai agreed to move to Saint Petersburg. There was more for Yuri there, resources he would need and the possibility to train under the prestigious Yakov Feltsman, the very same man that coached Viktor Nikiforov, Russia's finest competitive ice skater. Back then, Yuri knew he had been so blind to the truth, believing the hype that Viktor was some godlike being. That the ground he walked upon should be kissed and praised--in his younger years, Yuri idolized him like most of Russia, no, like most of those within the ice skating community. To have his eyes upon you was a feat that most would only dream of, let alone working alongside him whilst garnishing his attention. Yuri had the privilege of experiencing both, as Viktor was not only his rinkmate--but within his final year as a junior, the elder skater made a promise that would be the focal point behind his drive to win gold.
Stubbornly up to that point, the Russian fae had been attempting and gracefully pulling off quads, despite the constant nagging from his coach to refrain. Why would he stop? If he could do them, why did it even matter how old he was? The idea of it being damaging to his person, not an issue, or perhaps it wasn’t even thought about no matter how many times the notion had been beaten into his head. Viktor chose that time to promise to choreograph a winning program for the blond’s senior debut but only if he won the Junior Grand Prix without and quad jumps.
What a load of shit it had been.
Viktor Nikiforov was dead and Katsuki Yuuri was the one who did his old ass in. Not in the actual sense, but maybe it would have been for the best at this point; like putting an old dog down to end their misery. From the moment he set his eyes on the pig, he was a goner; lost to the rest of the world. Russia's finest taken from her grasp by some Japanese skater that resulted to crying in the bathroom after calling mommy because he came dead last during the 2014 Grand Prix Final. The very same man making a total fool of himself at the Gala held afterward by drinking himself into a stupor and proceeding to strip himself down to nearly nothing while pole dancing.
All these things considered, that wasn't really what pissed off the now Junior Grand Prix gold medalist. No...the washed up has been could be infatuated with the fatty all he wanted, sleep with him, fuck with his heart, what have you--what really stuck in his craw was the fact that the idiot ran off the very year he was to give him his prize. Yuri had worked his ass off, spent countless days into the night perfecting his routine just to have this муда́к ghost on him, flitting off to Hasetsu, Japan like he had no prior responsibilities. Fuck him and fuck that four-eyed porker too! He would not get away with breaking his promise, not to Yuri fucking Plisetsky.
Of course, it wasn't as easy as he could have foreseen. The idiots wanted to hold a competition for Viktor's attention (damned attention whore of a man) and being the type of person not to back down to challenge, Yuri saw it fit to agree.
Yakov and Lilia try their hardest, their words filtering through but not striking Yuri for what they are worth. He can hear them, their voices distorted; fading slowly as balled fists clench tightly at either side of his lithe form. Why? Why was this happening? Why now?
'Just calm down...calm.' His thoughts try to reason with himself, trying to pull his focus in. Everything is going so fast, his emotions rolling wildly within his person, bursting against his skin, threatening to come out.
That was the last straw, Viktor and Yuuri parading around, making a show of...whatever the hell they were, rubbing it in his face that Yuuri was still excelling, breaking his own personal bests with each challenge and this time it was no different. It was so damn frustrating, to be so confident going in; only to have said confidence shaken. There was anger, boiling and bubbling, coursing through his blood as his skates miss the triple axel--cursing himself for being so clumsy, yelling at his own mistakes especially with a jump he had never missed in the entirety of his career Quick to pick himself back up from the bitter ice, Yuri's discontent only continues to rise. Why...why did he have to let those two humiliating idiots get under his skin? Why was it no matter what he did, he couldn't escape this stance of always being in the shadow of not only Viktor but now Yuuri? It was more than maddening, it was straight up INFURIATING. Everything he had been working towards up to this point, had it all been for nothing? If he truly couldn't find his Agape now, with the very reason behind it watching from the crowd, his grandfather, did that mean that he'd never fully perform at 100%?
Agape, true, unconditional love--the purest form of affection. That was his program, that was the meaning behind the music, the choreography...in yet, the mood was ruined. Yuri could not feel the notion behind his own skates, not when he was so riled up, so pissed off. Of all his blood, sweat, and tears, to be flubbing up when it mattered most? With the prize, he longed for within reach and his Grandfather's very eyes upon him? Fuck, why was life so cruel?
No, it had to be the lack of overall experience, nothing else.
Coming down from the high, pulling together the rest of his performance after his fall was child's play. After all, even when not at the top of his game; Yuri had perseverance and would always pull through. Make up for the beginning midway--hit the judges with the determination and skill he's always possessed.
Still...second place was not where he longed to stand--not when that piggy was the one looming above him. It would only be worse if...if JJ was the one to climb above him. The stupid Canadian fuck boy who didn't know how to socialize worth a damn. Wasn't he aware of how much everyone hated him? Those damned JJ's girls, his stupid fiancee Bella, the combination stroked his proverbial dick so much that his ego had become swollen like an over-inflated balloon that Yuri would love to take a pin to. No, after securing his place within the GPF after his free skate, Yuri vows that gold will be his. That no matter what the cost, he would show the world why he was Russia's next best skater, that the Fairy of Russia backs down from no one.
It's funny how small little moments like that mean the most. The moment the words left Yuri's own lips was the moment he walked away. It was perplexing at the time, and it left the younger skater dumbfounded; mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened. No, it couldn't have been his sharp tongue had scared the guy off--there's no way it could be so easy...
The rushing sound of wind blowing by accented by the loud rumble of a motorcycle engine almost has Yuri forgetting about the squealing fans they are leaving behind, oblivious to the shutters of a dozen phone cameras struggling to catch the image of one dark horse riding off with their beloved fae in tow. There is no second thought to how they will probably make media headlines, no...there is just sheer wonder in emerald green hues as they stare up at man sat in front of him, his willowy arms looped around him loosely to cling. The very man he snapped at for daring to look his way is the hero who swept him off to uncharted territory.
Yuri finds himself looking over the city, oranges and reds painting the sky as the deep reverberation of the man at his side orchestrate a picture. Otabek speaks of younger days, the first of his Junior years when the blond was only 11. The fateful spark he felt when watching on as Yuri practiced. Oh...how had he been so blind? How could he not remember? Had his younger self always been this oblivious to those around him or had his craft been all he could think about?
Deep down, Yuri already knew it was the latter.
It's as if the air catches in his throat, wide hues that had been trained on the horizon casting over to the handsome teen who spoke so firmly; hands trembling around the guardrail as he grips harder. No...no one had ever spoken about him in such a fierce manner, no one before now. In this man, he found the spark that had been hidden beneath the cracks, the little push that would drive him to bigger and better things. In Otabek Altin, he found his first true friend, and it was nothing short of beautiful.
- figure skating protege
- critical of himself (and everyone else for that matter)
A Dank River Valley Near You
First off, Kitten. Wow. Just WOW. Your command of Yuri is top notch., and this app was just BEAUTIFUL You got his anger, his moodiness, his hate and yet he is still a precious kitten. I know why you call yourself kitten, it's in honour of this sweet bean. God, you know how to pull at my heartstrings. AND LOOK, NOT PENDED! Hope Yuri is ready for a happy but confused Beka, because Ipsum isn't ready for this hellcat.
Welcome to Ipsum Yuri Plisetsky! You have been sorted into DENIZEN! Please be sure to fill out your Claims and your Mini Profile, and let us know that you have finished that here, so we can properly sort you!