Ignac was born into a military family and as the oldest sibling, his path was laid out for him from day one. Very rarely was there this thing such as 'free time'. The 'free time' was the moments he spent at school in class rooms, educating in standardized curriculum with the occasional art and music class. There was such thing in his eyes as an after-school activity. He was to come home, do his homework, assist his mother in any way possible and then prepare for the next day. This gives meaning to his rather cold, calloused demeanor and almost bitter tendencies. However, one place unbeknownst to his family was his ability to visualize and recall. Art was an easy muse for him. In his teen years he very well could paint beautiful canvases of nature, towns and even people, in rare occasions.
But this wasn't something that was in the plan. His entire life was regimented and planned until he was of age to apply to at the time, the USSR's armed forces. Basic training to him was easy, and before long on the dawn of 1990, he entered service as a rifleman. The praise received from his own father was luke-warm. He did what was expected of him only deepening his cold demeanor.
Deployments had him in defensive positions in the local military base. It was a quiet life, aside from the occasional shipment came in that he received and stood guard over. There was glory in this, the hard, harsh military life was something advertized to him by his own father but this was... 'Gushy' at least by his own terms.
Then it all came crashing down. Chernarus, as of 1991 was no longer under the control of the USSR. In fact, it didn't exist. He was now a soldier of no-nation left with a choice. Defect to the new Russian Federation or stay in Chernarus and join the budding CDF. His father made his choice and without so much as a "Proshchay". He was gone. Leaving Ignac as the sole patriarch of his family with his mother and three brother's and sisters working odd jobs to keep themselves afloat.
This time was in his eyes, momentarily chaotic, revelations of abuse appeared in his mind. "He's not a man, he's a coward. He didn't care for us. No he didn't. Fuck him. Fuck him! He's a child, not a man." And out of some self-need to prove himself looked for a more lucrative career in the budding military. COBR.