Posts by - ILLYA K.

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    trackalackin' >:3


    //hAh dead muse

    //AND I'M SO EXCITED TOO OIDBXNKLLKX


    Illya chuckled. "No, you don't. I think you look absolutely fine. My picture is definitely worse than yours." He said, gesturing to the picture with his paw.


    She didn't know how to write? Oh, well then, he would teach her. "I'll teach you then. We'll start with your name for today. You know how to hold a sharpie, right? Or just a pen or pencil in general?" It was common for most animals to not know how to write, since they didn't have opposable thumbs, so he didn't mind.

    Illya was there to witness his fall, and he definitely would've laughed at that if the guy hadn't look so sick. Something was wrong with him, he could tell because of the stupid grin. Well, also there were the signs of his pace being different, but the grin bothered him.


    Running up, the wolfdog looked around for someone, anyone. Shaking the husky, he frowned at him. Good lord, what had he gotten himself into?

    Illya's heart leapt into his throat when Rhea came up.

    God, was she beautiful.


    Fumbling for his rose, he blushed when she pressed up against him. Pulling it out of his tuxedo pocket, he cleared his throat. "Hello, Miss Rhea. And might I say the same for you." He smiled, grabbing one of her hands and putting the rose into it. "Um, here. I thought you would like this." He blushed again, his fingers running through his blonde hair.


    He jumped when Kageyama came over. And then Molly came as well. Oh, lord, was he acting weak? He supposed he'd have to deal with it.


    Now grinning at Kageyama, who he now recognized, he nodded to Molly. "Just the three of us so far. Others will be coming, I suppose."

    Illya woke up, feeling a bit... Different.

    He had his paws under his head. He didn't even know he could do that.


    Pulling them out from under his head, he stretched, his paws and forelegs stretching high into the sky and going in opposite directions before falling down at his sides. Whoa, what the heck? He didn't know he could do that either!


    Curious, he raised his paw in front of his face and gasped.

    He was a human.

    A grown man, to be exact.


    Scrambling out from under his covers, he tumbled out of bed. What kind of dark frickin' magic was this?

    And how the heck was he fully clothed?


    He was wearing his normal black turtleneck sweater, his hat, and belt (his camera was still on the desk), but he was now wearing pants and shoes. Cussing to himself in Russian, he went to push himself up off the floor when he fell face first into the stone.


    Groaning, he tried again, this time a bit slower. His arms were shaky, but he was able to get up on his feet. And his knees were wobbly, too.


    Taking slow steps to his desk, he grabbed his camera and headed to the door. Boy, he was gonna need to take pictures of this.


    Stretching out his hand, he pushed the door open and almost stumbled outside. He was a bit stronger than he expected.


    Spotting Jersey a little ways away, he half dragged, half jogged over. "I have no clue." He said, strangely calm.

    //ahHhhH 2 pages while I've been gone ;-;. also, using google translate for russian, so may be wrong and idk what she meant haha. btw, he's 6'5" xD


    Illya chuckled slightly. He hadn't known what she meant to say, but Rhea had said "Love it" in Russian. Maybe she had meant to say "I love you," but he didn't think so.


    The Russian blushed slightly, fiddling with his fingers. //low muse

    //posting because I NEED A FLIPPIN' BREAK. and you may see a hint in here for his 100th post *wink wink*


    Illya looked around at the massive group, seeing he was one of the only one clothed.


    Feeling a bit self-conscious, he reached up for his turtleneck and made contact, wrapping his fingers around it gently. "I don't know." He said in reply to Rhea's question, making sure not to look at her. It was just too awkward.


    But he had to admit, he liked being a human, even though he was probably the tallest there. Crossing his arms, he had to agree with Kate. Something about this seemed normal to him... But he couldn't place his paw- uh, finger on it.


    His neck straightened when he heard a small voice, recognizing the sound of his adopted daughter, Pris. "D-Daddy! I'm different!" Turning, he opened his arms to welcome her in a hug (hoping she wasn't butt-naked like the rest), when he heard: "Who are you? You aren't-" Walking over to her, he bent down on one knee so he was almost eye to eye with her. "It's okay, I'm here Pris. It's me, Illya."

    Illya snorted quietly, raising an eyebrow at Jersey. The guy definitely needed it, from what he heard.


    Turning to the others that had arrived, Rhea (his heart skipped a beat when he saw her), Kate, Fadingmoon, and Pierce, he smiled, then turned to Jerseyboy. "Right, no one's forcing you, Jerseyboy. But it is recommended." He said, chuckling slightly.


    Looking back at the group, he grinned quickly before having a straight face again. "Good, let's get started. Everyone, please take a seat on the blankets." He said, gesturing to the blankets that were scattered by the lake. He sat on his blanket (which was black) comfortably as he waited.

    Ahh, so this was the Ambassador of BlizzardClan for RiverClan. At least he knew him now.


    Dipping his head, Illya bowed slightly. "And a pleasure to meet you, Desmond." He said, gesturing to the pile of goodies. "You may take one if you'd like, I have plenty to spare." He shrugged, blinking his blue eyes. Deciding to repeat the same question, he asked, "How are things in RiverClan?"

    //eek, sorry for the late reply!


    Illya smiled. "Hands-down the cutest." This stirred something in his chest, but he pushed it down for now. He'd think about it later, about the concept of love and everything. Unless it came back up again.


    Watching her, he chuckled slightly. "Here, let me adjust it for you." Moving the sharpie in her paw so it was in the right position, he realized he had been holding her paw.


    Pulling it away, he blushed before looking at the paper quickly. "Try writing your name. If you can do that, then maybe we can take a break and go on a walk, go take some pictures."

    Spotting Ska'arq a bit ways away, the wolfdog quickly smiled before heading over.


    "Здравствуйте (Hello), Ska'arq. Are you enjoying this nice day?" He asked, seating himself. Pausing, he added. "I don't remember if I ever introduced myself. The name's Illya Kuryakin, pleasure to meet you." He nodded, looking at the dragon with interest.


    ILLYA KURYAKIN -- DEVELOPMENT / 100TH POST / NEW POWER

    Illya was walking around his room, messing around with his weapons and gadgets. He had just started a cleaning these objects, and the wolfdog would do it every week.


    He was just about to start cleaning his knife when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Lying on his bed was a needle. A needle? He didn't remember taking, or stealing, a needle with him. Putting the knife back down on his desk, he padded over to inspect the mysterious needle.


    Jumping onto his bed, the male went to go pick it up when something stopped him for a moment. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't want to touch it. But he did anyways, his paw laying on the needle when suddenly everything went black.


    Crumpling onto his bed in an awkward position, he was aware of the needle now slightly poking his skin. Everything was fading. What is going on? He screamed in his mind until darkness consumed him.


    Illya was standing in an office, both of his hands planted firmly on a desk. He was staring into a man's face, and that man seemed so frightened, it was hilarious. It was the director of U.N.C.L.E., Alexander Waverly. The man he had killed.


    Illya's hands balled into fists, and they were shaking slightly. "I am not going into that cursed experiment, Waverly. I've told you this many times, собутыльник (pal)." He said, his voice strangely calm. The Russian wasn't just going to be bullied into this. No, he'd fight his way out of it, or be the bully himself.


    The man in front of him scrambled for his papers, but seemed to be a bit more calm now. Illya frowned slightly. What is he up to? The spy wondered, watching Alexander look through the papers with unease.


    Suddenly, Waverly looked up, it was his turn to be frightened. What was that look for? "I'm sorry, Illya, but it says here you signed a contract saying you would. And the experiment starts today. And since you aren't cooperating, we'll have to take in you in by force."


    At the final words, men were suddenly pouncing at him, some with guns pointed at him and others pinning him to the ground.


    Illya quickly recovered from his shock, kicking out at the men and punching with all his might. But there were too many.


    Soon enough, the Russian was pinned to the ground by at least five guys, and another five pointing guns at his head. Still struggling under their grasp, he glared up at Waverly with such hatred. "I never signed a contract. I have told you this." He spat, trying to kick out at the people holding down his knees.


    Alexander walked over, shaking his head. "You signed a contract saying you would undergo the experiment, that you would be turned into a dog and we would implant into your mind that you killed me, and you were to be killed on sight if we saw you. And you agreed. This is an experiment we need, Illya. We'll be able to explore territories we could never explore before."


    If looks could kill, Alexander would've been dead 10 times over. "You greedy Americans. I never signed that contract. Someone forged my signature. Ты заплатишь за это, Уэйверли. (You'll pay for this, Waverly.)" The Russian growled, glaring at the man. He had to have forged his signature, right?


    Instead of looking afraid, Waverly just smiled. "Just for your information, I didn't sign that contract for you. You did. Knock him out, boys!" His gaze traveled to one of the men, who had his fist raised, and all went black when it slammed into his head.


    Illya was now in a different room; and strapped to a metal table.


    He tried to move his arms, but the straps wouldn't budge. Trying to put more of his weight into it, his arm fell back onto the metal with a loud thunk.


    Illya had been defeated.


    But, he still trashed, trying to get out of the bondage that kept him. But then a door creaked open, and someone walked in. Looking up, he started to scowl, as he thought Waverly was coming in, but his expression turned into shock when Napoleon quickly walked towards his side. Gabby was there, too, but hidden more behind Napoleon.


    The spy looked at the American, surprised to see concern lacing his features. Good, he wasn't involved in it. Turning his gaze to Gabby, he wondered if she was. But she seemed on the verge of tears, and he had a feeling they would be real tears.


    "Hey, are you alright Cowboy?" Napoleon asked, now kneeling by Illya's bondage. "I'll be alright." He huffed, trying to pull his arm up. Still no use. Sighing, he silently gave up inside, feeling like he had failed.


    Gabby slowly approached the table, a tear streaming down her face. Oh, God, he didn't want to see her cry. Anything but that. Turning away from her, he looked back at Napoleon. "Is the experiment happening soon?" To his dismay, the American spy nodded. "Yup. They're about to come in now. We wanted to say goodbye." Napoleon stood up, clasping him on the shoulder before moving away so Gabby could come forward.


    Soon enough, she was running towards him, tears streaming down her face. Before he could say "It's alright" and "Everything's going to be okay," she had grabbed his face and was kissing him.


    Sparks fluttered in his stomach for a moment, and he closed his eyes. It lasted for a few more seconds before she pulled away, letting go of his face and instead squeezing his hand. "You'll be alright, I promise." She whispered before letting go of his hand and running out the door.


    Turning to look at Napoleon, the man had a smirk on his face and raised eyebrows. "Shut up." He mumbled, and the other spy chuckled before heading to the door. Stopping as he grabbed the handle, Napoleon looked back at Illya and winked. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll miss you, Cowboy. We'll meet again, I promise. Goodbye." He opened the door and stepped out the door, closing it behind him.


    Illya was alone again for the second time in that room.


    It had been about five minutes when the door opened again, and this time, instead of his friends, it was a cart with a tray on top, carrying vicious looking tools and a few men wearing masks.


    It was time.


    Luckily, Waverly didn't come in, so Illya wasn't as tense.


    They pulled the cart up next to him, and he started to struggle. What were they going to do to him?


    One of the men, a short one for that matter, picked up a needle. Illya visibly winced. Oh, lord, they'd be poking him with needles? Definitely not a comfortable way to be experimented. But didn't all experiments involve needles? Ah, whatever, he didn't really care at the moment.


    Flicking the tip of the needle with his pointed finger, the man rolled up Illya's sleeve and jammed it into his skin. Yelling, the Russian made an attempt to grab him, only to be slammed back on the table by the other doctors.


    Grumbling to himself, Illya watched as the man injected the serum. Whatever it was, it was effective all right. He was already numb, and he couldn't feel anything. It was probably so then he couldn't do anything while they did whatever they needed to do.


    And it was for that reason. They fiddled with do-dads and gadgets, and other crap he didn't know about. Finally, they pulled out another needle.


    That was it? They got ready for another needle?


    Snorting, he shifted into a comfortable position, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning back to the doctors. Now using his right arm, since they used his left for the numb-serum-thing, they lifted that sleeved and wiped something wet on this arm. Flinching, he watched as a man picked up the needle and poked it into his skin. Pushing on the little thing at the top, he watched the serum go all the way down until it was gone.


    Then he started to feel queasy, and the whole room seemed to spin and move on its own.


    The doctors cleaned up and were out the door in a jiffy, while Illya was still struggling to stay conscious. The last thing he thought of was Gabby and their kiss, and everything went black.


    Illya gasped awake, instantly sitting up. He was sweating, but he didn't know how that was possible for him. And he felt taller, weirder, lankier, and... Looking down, you could probably hear the yell throughout the camp. He, he was human! He had arms, and hands!


    Shakingly, he lifted his right arm, staring at his shaking hand. Moving his fingers, he watched them move for a moment before reaching down and throwing off his blankets.


    Oh, thank God. He was fully clothed.


    Of course, it was in his normal outfit, just with black pants and black sneakers.


    Sighing in relief, he turned so his feet were dangling off the bed (which they weren't, because he was so flippin' tall). Illya pushed himself up, but instantly fell back on the bed. Crap, he hope this wouldn't take long to get used to.


    Trying again, he stood this time, though a bit shaky. Walking towards the door, he froze. What will the others think of me? Can I change back? The last question was what he dreaded most.


    Taking a deep breath, he opened the door hastily, and almost fell down. He was pretty strong. Stepping outside, the man quickly ran his fingers through his hair. Must be an old habit. He thought, because sitting down on the ground outside his hut.


    He didn't know what to do now. He supposed he could just sit there until someone noticed him. But he couldn't take his mind off the flashbacks, Alexander, Napoleon, Gabby... Shaking his head, Rhea also popped into his mind. Frowning, he decided. This would be his life now. Until he could feel comfortable enough to go find the friends he lost.


    The kiss they had meant nothing to the Russian now.


    //gah, sorry this took so long! such a busy day, haha. sorry if this is pretty bad, I'm not used to big things like this ;-;. but, 1722 words in all, without the coding + coloring! this is now an AU, so Illya can be a human, but your character is still an animal

    //my muse is slowly returning, and it's fine chip!


    Illya swore he was blushing from head to toe as she leaned on his arm. Looking down at her, he smiled softly, his hands in his pockets.


    Turning to Skylar when he ran in, the Russian couldn't help but chuckle. "You're alright, Skylar. A ton of people aren't here yet." He gestured to the restaurant with one of his hands, and then returned it into his pocket. "I just thinking of getting a table. Care to join us?"

    //sorry if had I low muse, it's returning, and of course, retro to new power ;)


    Illya nodded, deciding to answer the first question before the others. That one was simple. But, so were the others. "Yes, I'm new. I arrived here about... Three days ago, yeah, on a Monday." He smiled, tilting his head. "BlizzardClan is fantastic, I don't think I want to ever leave." He didn't really know about that, though, since he found out about his past. He'd have to find Napoleon and Gabby some day. "And is it what I imagined it to be? Well, I hadn't really imagined anything being here when I first got here, I thought it was impossible for this thing to hold up." He chuckled, his tail swaying in the grass and dirt. "What about you? How do you like BlizzardClan, and what had you imagined it to be like?"

    Illya looked up in surprise. That was a question he'd definitely hadn't been asked before.


    Quickly looking through the large basket, he pulled out a bone and shrugged. "I brought a few of these, thought some of the kids may like it." Passing it to Anakin, he nodded towards the lion. "Teething?" He joked, a smile crossing his features before it disappeared.