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<  Character Bio's  ~  Serokarma

PostPosted: Sun Nov 27, 2005 3:38 am Reply with quote
User avatarAssamitePosts: 28Joined: Wed Nov 23, 2005 6:19 pm
Born: Somewhere in a small village along the edge of the European continent.

Real name:Logan Arihel

Aliases:"Sero" "Serokarma" "Karmas"

Description:6'3, black hair, white eyes, moderately muscular,

Skills: weilding dual pistols, throwing knives, the garrote (small piano like string used for silent strangles.

Location:as of now in New York awaiting contact.

Master:Mathius Thytengood alias: Strycnine

Clan:Assamite

Update:awating contract in New York

Feeding habits:cows blood, occaisionally human

[b:bdcf79e07c]Backstory[/b:bdcf79e07c]

[i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c](village somewhere on the European continent 1578)[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c]


A Small boy about 10 years of age with short black hair not very tall for his age, playing in a field alone curiously runs about throwing rocks and throwing sticks awaiting his dog to finally return something to him. He silently looks down to the small dog and the dog looks back to the boy with a tilted head of curiosity. The boy then smiles and pets the dog and runs about along the stream throwing his small metal toy soldiers at the fishes. His stomach growls and it is afternoon so he decides to return to his home for supper.

He begins to walk down the path not very far at all from his village. The village being a small nicely organized little community sits on the edge of a Hill. As he makes his way into the entrance of the village he doesn’t see many people out infact he wonders why. Even though this village was small it was always quite lively in the afternoons. He slowly walks down the main road between the houses looking around at the closed windows and doors. A darkness not usually set over this village cloaked it now and there was pure silence, no birds where chirping, no leaves where rustling with the wind.

He made his way down to his home only to find his small baby sister lying on the porch of the small cabin like home in her small dress his mother made for her during Christmas last year. He quickly walks over to where she lay lifeless and picks her up taking her inside the home finding it empty and he lays her on his bed knowing that she is in fact sadly dead. He tucks her in and picks up the book laying on the floor with what looks like blood on it but he wipes it off and sets in the window. After walking through the village again he realizes that everything and everyone where infact gone. He looks down at the dog and then around in the trees thinking to himself what to do now. Then a sharp pain from the back of his head to his neck takes over his body and he falls off the porch.

His body feels light and suspended in mid air not knowing he is actually being picked up by some dark figure pulling him back into the house where the inside is laced with shadows. He cannot move as he silently whimpers lying in his own bed and looks around with only his eyes at the figure sitting by the fireplace mantle his long cloak draping his body like wings. The figure slowly turns to him his face only shown slightly by the burning fireplace. A growl escapes the figure and he disappears and appears quickly again beside the boy and he looks down at him with a look of dark intent along with a small amount of compassion. A tear rolls down the boys face and he not being able to move makes it worse as the fright begins to ball up inside of him. His sister and his dog’s bodies lay lifeless in the corner of the house by the fireplace. The boy is then picked up by the man and carried out after he pours wine along the floor to the fireplace and he walks along the houses to the path.

On the way the boy sees his village burning all his neighbors in their houses stacked on each other he silently watches them burn through the now open windows. Other figures begin to join the man carrying him silently as he makes his way down the path to his hoarse. They ride quickly away from the village the boy knowing that is no longer his home he closes his eyes to fall asleep hoping he will wake up and this will all be a dream.

[b:bdcf79e07c](7 Years later) [/b:bdcf79e07c]

The boy now in his teens silently stands on the edge of a Mansion watching The King of the countryside as the dark figure that carried him out of the burning village silently stands beside him whispering into his ear [i:bdcf79e07c] [b:bdcf79e07c]"don’t you think you want something a little harder for your first contract Serokarma?"[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] The boy looks up at the man with no expression on his face and replies [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]"Well the only reason I picked him is because I thinks he is an idiot and plus for the being human this will be good money on my part Strycnine, and also I do not care about him, that makes this VERY easy."[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] Strycnine nods silently and points the King walking through the courtyard silently with his daughter as they sit down on the bench;

Serokarma runs silently down the limb of a large tree and sits on the one overhead from the king, Hearing Strycnine say something from far back behind him. He slowly unties his Garrote from around his waist and holds it between his fingers like sewing string. He unbuckles the bag with the blow pipe in it and ties it to the string. He loads the pipe with a small rock that has been beaten down and sharpened to look like a needle and he blows it at the king hitting him in the back of the neck making him incapable of movement and he rushes the two silently as possible rapping the kings neck with the Garrote and slitting his neck with it. The king’s daughter just then realizing what was happening opened her mouth about to scream and was quickly stopped by the quick slash across the neck from the throwing knife that Serokarma had swiftly rushed out of the pocket of his cloak. He licked the blood as he silently jumped into the tree and ran back up to the Mansion looking down at the king he made no expressions just mere amusement.

Strycnine silently grabbed Serokarma's shoulder and yanked him around punching him in the face [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]" What the HELL do you think you where doing?"[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] Serokarma now laying off the edge growled and looked at him [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]”What I am being paid for you idiot!"[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] Strycnine grabbed him by the neck and picked him up [i:bdcf79e07c]"This is not supposed to be some kind of chance to drink blood. Before you decided to run off I tried to tell you that you needed to wait, that was the princess you killed and she was not part of the contract!"[/b][/i:bdcf79e07c] Serokarma stood up silently and laughed [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]"well then ill have to make up for it."[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] His hand rushes his pocket and he grabs his garrote rapping Strycnine's neck with it pulling through as hard as he could making his head rap around on the one bone and vein that held it to and then he pushed him down and stomped the bone apart separating it from his body. Serokarma then left him there running to the large boat that was said to have left for Roanoke Island from the queen’s dock that same night.


[b:bdcf79e07c](1589 Roanoke Island Colony)[/b:bdcf79e07c]

The light shines through the old cabin at the edge of the small town’s main road. The first house that showed signs of abandonment had shown through the beautiful sunlight that caressed the street. The family had been long since gone after most the men left for Europe about 6 months ago. Mostly women and children where left to fend for themselves and there was not much left to live off of. Since they had been there they had lost 56 of the 157 people that had come to the Americas for Colonization, another 26 had left to return because of fear from which the Neighboring Indian tribes had shuddered upon the inhabitants of the small town.

Serokarma sits up slowly in his bed silently. It was now night and he was awoken by the small getogether the town was having. He had a sudden erge to have a little fun while he could because he was going to leave soon and since he had killed his mentor he didn’t think that many people would be happy with him. He had grown quit sick of this little town and was ready to leave. He stepped out of bed and put on his cloak, boots, pants and other things he needed to deliver his appearance to the small feast. He stepped silently out of the house. Little kids running about playing hide and go seek. He saw a woman sneak around a house with a man and decided to investigate. He quietly slid around the opposite side of the house to listen in on their conversation, He didn’t particularly like eavesdropping but he was bored and neither of the two looked nor smelled innocent. He climbs onto the roof of the house and leans over the edge silently listening upon them silently. The dialogue was inaudible and the started to kiss. He had then realized the man was going to kill the women’s husband and he decided to intervene.

Later that night after all the festivities he went into the women’s house to watch as the man showed his feeble attempt to kill the women’s husband. Sitting in the shadows, hours later the man appears in the doorway with a rock and a hand pistol. Serokarma silently pulls out his throwing knife and twirls it around his finger silently as he watched with a slight amusement as the man pumbled the women’s husband into a coma.

Serokarma Silently walked behind the man and broke his neck snapping it like a pretzel stick, and threw the knife through the sheet over the bathroom door into the women’s throat who had obviously stayed out of the room to avoid seeing him kill her husband. Serokarma smirks to himself silently [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]”Humans…hmff useless”[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c]

All through the night for hours he makes his way through the houses killing everything in sight feasting on the blood graciously. By morning the houses had been burned down which resulted into ash. He, to avoid suspicion carved the letters CROAT. This later made human scientists think that a nearby Indian tribe called the Croatans carved into it, into a nearby tree and stabbed one of the porcelain dolls into the tree with a tomahawk he gathered from a Indian he killed not to long after they arrived on the Island.

[b:bdcf79e07c](The Great Fire of New Orleans 1788)[/b:bdcf79e07c]

Later when the Settlers returned he hitched a ride back to Europe he spent many years owning a small Catholic bookstore in Sicily. He then one day heard about a port in the America’s referred to as La Nouvelle-Orléans and bought a ticket to make journey over there to see what it was all about since he thought he needed a vacation. He arrived in what is now referred to as New Orleans and began to talk to the locals and tried to find any sort of refuge for his kind.

He Came across a small pub called the.[i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]La Kindred Bolivar [/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] owned by a Nosferatu which where at the time seen often on the streets of New Orleans at night.Serokarma Silently made his way into the slightly alleyway hidden pub for a quick quench of his long growing thirst for something that was intangible for him at the time. He slowly walks into the pub and sits at the bar silently ordering blood from the bartender that obviously was a vampire. He set the goblet style cup in front of him slowly and went to the next person. The liquid hit his lips with the sweet serenade of a angel, something he had not felt in a long time since that night in Roanoke.

He smelled something the air as he drank that was oddly familiar but he shrugged it off pretty sure it wasn’t what or whom he thought it was. The figure silently stepped behind him and wrapped a thin piano wire around his throat yanking on it cutting it back into his breaths. Making the blood he just drank spew from his neck slowly. The pain set in but he didn’t let the anger go. Pulled out one of his throwing knives and stabbed the figure in the side making the blood from the figures kidneys spew all over the bar and on the bartender who at the time was angry.Serokarma Yelled out slightly gargled since the wire was in his throat.[i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]”c’mon damnit if your going to do it then finish it.”[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c] The figure silently pulled harder as he did this he whispered in Serokarma’s ear something resembling the words that where once said to him from his mentor Strycnine. [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c]”La Morte esa Lei Solamente optiona”[/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c],Which means [i:bdcf79e07c] Death is your only option[/i:bdcf79e07c]. His eyes quickly grew wide as quarters and he Jerked around pulling back the figures hair stabbing him in the eye with a toothpick from the bar and tied his cloak to the table and he reaches over to the bar grabbing the bottle of Vodka that the bartender has stupidly sitting on the edge of the bar for himself and begins to pour the whole bottle onto the vampire drowning his face in it as he screams to him a phrase to this day defines his character. [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c] “Death is a job” [/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c]

He then proceeds to taking the lantern lit with fire and throws it onto the figure making him catch aflame. Then Serokarma slowly exits the tavern. He then quietly walks down Bourbon Street as the city slowly begins to burn down. He makes his way down the street to a nearby alleyway where he then disappeared to the docks and caught ship, which he then was getting tired of running away on at the time. He thought to himself [i:bdcf79e07c][b:bdcf79e07c] this is the last time I am going to ride one of these damn things [/b:bdcf79e07c][/i:bdcf79e07c]

He spent the rest of his time in Sicily where owned a small bookstore that even though made no money gave him a honest reason to stay inside all day and not have to show his face in the daytime. Until Hitler came along nothing was wrong with where he lived. Sure there was a world war before Hitler was in power but when he appeared it all went downhill from there. The military was recruiting and because he still looked like he was in his twenties they automatically assumed that he would fight for them and that is when Serokarma fled back to the Americas. Since then he has silently held his place in society in its underground fulfilling contracts from the Giovanni and other bloodlines that ask for his assistance.



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