Post by Valekin on Mar 5, 2009 14:59:33 GMT -5
Basic Information[/u]
Name: Valekin Von Kaluskov XII
Age/Grade: 21
Height: Six Feet
Weight: One Hundred and Seventy One pounds.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Eye Color: Dark Blue
Hair: Black, middle back length.
Pastime Information
Hobbies/Talents/Skills: Murdering Criminals, Hacking, Black Ops, Special Warfare, Melee weapon specialization, firearms specialization, torture techniques, etc.
Sports: None
Clubs: None
Gangs: Black Hand Organization Leader, Shadow Knights Organization Leader.
Misc.: He likes to go to schools and scope out the potential.
Mental Information
Personality:
Things have changed for Valekin over the years. No longer the righteous warrior, but now a homicidal maniac. He's completely insane, and totally twisted. He lives off of violence, and has become rather cannibalistic. He radiates violence and terror, his stare alone could possibly reduce one's resolve to ashes. To say the least, he has the most extreme, insane, personality. Totally sadistic. For him, it's kill or be killed.
On top of being totally insane, he appears to be increasingly random in his actions and behaviors. Some things might strike him funny, and two seconds later, he'll kill you for it. To be short, he cycles between moods exceptionally quickly, and it is hard to understand where his mood is just by looking at him some of the time. At other times it is possible to discern that he is in a homicidal mindset or other mindset just by looking at his face. He has no regard for most human life, and does not care whom his actions hurt.
He is also quite intelligent and is extremely capable in that regard. Many people would suggest that he's just a homicidal maniac with no calculated intentions. That would be a falsehood. Valekin is an extremely competent and highly calculating individual. Most of the moves he makes were well planned out in advance, and quite meticulously. He is also silently arrogant.
Likes: Women, weapons, ammunition, eating people, vodka, and candy.
Dislikes: Goody Two Shoes, idiots, criminals (ha ha), rapists, other degradations of society and degenerates.
Mentality/Ideal/Belief: This has become increasingly difficult to place. It is known that he is totally loony, but his calculating nature gives one the sense of a mission being involved.
Physical Information
Build: Military
Defining Marks: Various tattoos all over his body, as well as scars, and genetic modifications.
Description:
He was a rather tall kid, slim yet at an ideal weight for his height. A life in royal serbia had him accustomed to medieval armor and swords, taking away the body fat that would normally be present from being relatively lazy. He had long legs and arms, his face was angular, with a well shaped jaw. His eyelids were shadowed naturally from a bleak outlook on existance. Pale lips and a light complextion, his fingers slender and rather dexterous.
He looked older than he really was, people have been known to mistake him for a man of twenty or so. Under his clothes he managed to have many bodily scars, three diagonal from right-to-left slashes across his torso, closer to the right pectoral and shoulder than his stomach. A short stab wound to his left kidney, two bullet wounds to his left shoulder, two inches apart, one lower and closer to the right. One horizontal slash that looked rather light across his belly, three inches below his navel. Two short slashes across his left thigh, on the top. Three more on the other thigh, from top wrapping around to the outside. Someone had scored a light hit on his head, as the left temple was scarred to just above his ear.
Rather recently, his appearance had changed. He had sharpened his canines, and his eyes had taken a lavender turn, though they're still more blackish blue. Striking lashes and brows, with ellipsed iris'. Where his body hadn't been scarred, it had been tattooed. Ranging from flames to tribal symbols. Showing his detachment from God. His hair's a little more purple now, signifying the twisting of his mind. His ears have been misshapen and are heavily laden with golden loops. He doesn't wear a necklace often, but sometimes he wears the skull chain.
His apparel varies from normal clothing, to business, clothing, to various disguises, to the usual night camouflage combat pants, studded belt with knife sheath, trench coat with many pockets, and no shirt. He is often seen wearing a pair of medieval light gauntlets.
Fighting Information
Fighting Style: Various close quarters combat techniques, street fighting, boxing, wrestling.
Years Practiced: over fifteen.
Description of style: When it comes down to combat, he's agile and precise. His moves are executed quickly, and with the accuracy to turn someone inert. He'll opt for dodging rather than blocking, and he'll opt for a hold over a jumping strike. He's an all around dirty fighter, he's had moments where he had to fight dirty to win, and stay alive. At times he can be incredibly direct, from punching you straight in the face, to kicking you in the balls. At other times he will use other techniques, such as forcing you to bleed out by clawing your body, and cutting various arteries. If he can dispatch you using stealth, he will. Sudden strikes are a specialty of his, it tends to come from his semi-random moods.
Overall Strengths: He is an overall agile fighter, and is strong and durable to boot. There have been witnesses that have seen him punch through a wall, kick a large chunk of concrete free from a wall, as well as rip off a car door. Others have seen him take a bullet to the face, and spit it out of his mouth a moment later. He has been getting much better at handling a large group of enemies, and he tends to end fights rather quickly.
Overall Weaknesses: His mental disposition and his history are serious drawbacks for him. If he encounters someone that knows his past and they bring it up in the fight, it is unknown what he would do. He has a tendency to go berserk, and not fight with any sense at all. Due to recent events people that are stronger or faster than him tend to be larger obstacles than they were before.
History Information
History: The War
~`Valekin was ordered to take up a sniper point in a building of his choosing, in the ruined city of Besra. Imagine looking down the sniper scope with three or four other guys around you watching your back. They’re armed with Kalashnikovs, also known as the Soviet Alma-Ata Kalashnikov. Valekin knew these men, and he trusted them to watch his ass as he looked down the scope into the ruined city. He was viewing the middle of a rebel camp. Those rebelling against the Serbian army were one of two types of people in the eyes of the government and army, heretics, or radical muslims. As it was said amongst his allies and friends, amongst his country and government. Kill the heretic, and the radical in the name of God.`
`He was going to do just that. Bracing the SVD 7.62mm Soviet sniper rifle against his shoulder, he peered down the scope as a thirteen year old boy, in the middle of a war. A panzer tank rolled in, then out of view. It looked like the rebels were on the move, he didn’t have long to finish off as many as he could. That was his mission, kill as many as possible. During the war, no one knew who was the leader of any rebel cell. The orders were to kill everyone. Always.`
Hail Mary..
`He cycled the bolt, and slammed the clip into the slot. Then cycled the bolt again. Now, peering down the scope of the rifle he took aim, the back of the man’s head. He looked rather important, ordering other men and women around. Valekin twisted the knobs on the scope, compensating for wind and sway. Then, slowly he removed his right index finger from the trigger guard and placed it on the trigger itself.`
Full of grace...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist was seen, then the exit wound showed itself. He cycled the bolt, discarding the spent round, then cycled it back into place. Click, slik, slik, click. Next, there was only slight shock when the man’s brains were blown out, many ducked, others began arming themselves. Some even began looking for him. He picked another target, someone that was looking right at him. He could see their face.`
The lord is with you...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist followed and the target went down. A single tear welled up in both of Valekin’s eyes. He cycled the bolt, and then cycled it back into place. Click, slik, slik, click. Next, a target with an RPG. Rocket propelled grenades were dangerous, he had to take that out. He aimed for the man’s head, then chest... he couldn’t handle directly killing someone else so soon. He aimed for the RPG round itself.`
Blessed art thou amongst women...
`Crack! KABOOM! Chaos erupted as the round exploded, blowing the man and several others to pieces. Several crates full of ammunition caught fire and exploded soon after. As the smoke began to clear, he watched the rebels, now almost fully armed, get up. They were in shell shock. An affliction that renders people unconcious, blind, deaf, in a state of shock, or dead. Everything but deaf was temporary. He cycled the bolt. Four 7.62mm rounds left. Click, slik. Slik, click. Next target, a rebel soldier getting up.`
And Blessed is the fruit of thy womb..
“Jesus...”
`He whispered to himself.`
`Crack! Chest shot, pink mist and he crumpled to the ground. The round went right through both lungs thanks to the angle. Valekin blinked, getting the tears out of his now clouded vision. Cycling the bolt he cleared the round and reloaded it. Click, slik. Slik, Click. Next target, another rebel getting up, he was unfortunate enough to have a fifty caliber machine gun with him. Yuri was with him, and placed a consoling hand on Valekin’s shoulder. He silently thanked him, and aimed while the other members of the squad left the room and began their descent towards the streets.`
Holy Mary, Mother of God...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist followed. Valekin began to think more coldly towards what he was doing, the slaughter was something he was getting used to. Cycling the bolt he sobbed once, and never again during the mission. Cleared, two rounds left. What bloody work a boy must do in the name of God. Only.. He didn’t know that was heresy in itself.`
Pray for us sinners...
`Crack! Torso shot. The exit wound had to have been about the size of a tangerine. Valekin had from that day foreward believed there was always blood on his hands, physically. He’d wash them even when they are clean. Trying to wash away what he had done, what had traumatized him so. One round left. And there were three targets in his sight. He picked one, the rebel that was now hefting an RPG, and pointing it at his squadmates who were moving towards the camp.`
Now and at the hour of our death...
`Crack! Head shot, the velocity of the round sent the man on his ass. He was already dead, but it was almost comical the way he fell. The weight of the RPG had pushed him down when his body went limp after the bullet ripped out his brains, making him almost sit, then lay down. He cycled the bolt, and the final casing flew out, as well as the metal plate for loading. He was empty.` “Come on Valekin, let’s go!” Yuri told him. Grabbing the young man by the shoulder, and pulling him to his feet. Kalashnikov fire was heard as his squad mowed down the rest of the rebels.` “Amen..” Valekin said finally.`
~`A month later. Valekin had become more and more comfortable with the idea of spilling blood and giving people new holes to breathe out of. He had progressed quite well physically, and not quite well psychologically. Close encounters with land mines, hollow point rounds, tanks, and shell shock had left him on the brink of insanity. This was his second major mission. Infiltration and total annihilation. The objective? Get inside the Forsavk rebel base, and destroy everything. This wasn't something they could just assault though. The base was situated in the mountains, and it was well defended. A paradrop with silent weapons and breaching explosives was the best tactic.`
"Alright! You're over the target, jump in..!" The paradrop instructor was yelling over the high volume of air passing through the cabin where our pal Valekin, and his squadmates were preparing. He was first up, and damn it if he wasn't scared. He had his goggles on, his parachute, the flight suit, and he was armed. Of course he didn't have the explosives, you throw those on along with his longsword and his knife, and you weigh the kid down. He was already going to fall like a sack of hammers. Yuri had the explosives.`
"Three, Two, One! GO!" The instructor pushed Valekin out of the plane, and the rest of the squad followed. They made a rapid descent through the mountain's thin air. He felt like he was floating all of a sudden, then he realised that he had reached terminal velocity, and if he didn't release his chute in mere seconds, he'd flatten himself all over the mountain side. Man, paradrops suck! With a sharp tug he released the black parachute and glided through the night to a nice soft landing ontop of the base. The rest of the squad landed soon after, no one was off-key either. All made a perfect landing ontop the base's highest structure. Which was the water purification unit. Yuri moved towards the vent and removed a screwdriver from his pack. He removed the vent's cover, and Valekin looked inside through night vision goggles.`
"Clear"`Valekin whispered as he dropped into the room. The only thing he could hear was the low humming of the filters and machinery. The rest of the squad secured the area, and Yuri set to work, planting time bombs on two of the units.`"That's good enough."`Yuri muttered. Valekin slowly drew his eight inch bowie knife, carbon steel, serrated edge. It was totally badass. Folded almost a hundred times, and on the blade's sides a falcon diving for it's prey was emblazoned into the steel. Quite appropriate indeed. Valekin cautiously moved towards the door, and then stood to the side. Motioning for the squad to move out of the door's view.`
`He knocked on the door twice, footsteps. The door opened with a creak.`" Eh? Whose in there?"`The poor man that started to stick his head into the room would find that Valekin had quickly wrapped his right arm around his neck and pulled him into the room. The left hand, which was brandishing the blade, had started to drag the deadly weapon along the man's throat from right to left. Severing both the caratoid artery, the trachea, and the jugular, blood spurted out of the neck wound and spattered the ground, literally flowing out of the man's neck.`
`Valekin pulled the body in and dragged it behind a unit, while the rest of the squad had moved into the next room. A few gurgles were heard, blood hitting a concrete floor from eight feet or so. All of that Valekin had picked up before entering the room. The squad of four had disposed of three other men without a single sound. It was a small radio room.`"Yuri, fire bombs in that equipment."`Yuri saluted and started to take apart the equipment and place thermite fire bombs inside them, so that when activated, and back-up was called for. The bombs would go off, burning through everything, including the floor.`
`It was soon decided that the squad would split up into one group of two, and one group of three. Valekin and Yuri, Josef, Klaus, and Rolak. The trio went left, into a hall towards the command center. It wasn't a very practical base lay out, that was for sure. But I guess the rebels didn't count on being jumped like this eh? Valekin and Yuri moved down the next hall, slowly following behind a pair of guards who were talking between themselves. Valekin, despite Yuri's violent head shaking, had drawn his longsword, and notified them of his presence. SHIIIINK! SHILICH, SHILICH! Sliiiiik.`
`Blood was all over the walls, two singular movements had both cut the men down, but had spread a pattern of blood in the blade's wake. The men's torso's were cut diagonally, and they were cut all the way through, there were four pieces of body on the floor, bleeding excessively. Valekin started moving, and Yuri followed. The longsword proved useful in close quarter combat, and it would give the men of this particular base to talk about. The pair had proceeded down the hall into the generator room. Yet, the door was locked.`
"Breach the door?"`Valekin asked, quizzically. Yuri nodded, and removed a home-made shrapnel door breach explosive. Basically it was a small explosive compound with nails, broken glass, screws, and pieces of metal all rolled into one. He stuck it to the door, and pressed the red button on the control panel, priming the detonation. Both males moved to either side of the door, brandishing knives. THUMP! Nails and the like flew all through the next room as the lock to the door was blown into scrap. Several groans were heard, and a few men screamed. The God's of Death entered the room. Knives out in the open. Smoke was everywhere, and the shrapnel was imbedded in everything. People, machines, computers, generators. Everything. Valekin put the nearest living man into a half-nelson while he was convulsing. Then dragged the knife along the man's stomach, actually spilling the man's intestines onto the floor. He moved on.`
`Yuri was busy slitting throats and stabbing hearts, while Valekin was taking his dear sweet time playing with the corporal's skull. The man in charge of the room was already dead. Valekin was now peeling it like an orange, he'd leave it there too, so that the next person dumb enough to enter the room would get a nice look. And then the next person to pick it up, would find a little surprise. A fire bomb was planted in, and under the skull. Yuri was long finished by this time, and was busy rigging every generator to explode.`"Your mother."
"My mother? Falcon, your mother is my mother, don't be dissing mommy."
"She's not your real mother. But yea, I get you."
"What made you decide to put mom down anyway?"
"Eh, it's all the rage in town." They left it at that, and proceeded out of the room and down the hall again, and waited outside another room. Valekin knocked on the door, same as before. And same as before, one man opened the door looking for someone. Valekin's right hand went right to the man's belt, where his knife was. He removed it, and simultaneously stabbed him with both the blade, and the knife. One in the neck, and the other in the heart. He angled both weapons, and pulled the man out of the room, Yuri followed up with a well placed flash grenade, which went off and blinded everyone in the bloody room. Then, both proceeded to gut, and stab everyone in the room.`
"You won't be getting me so easily Panzerjager!" A guard said while Yuri was busy finishing off some of the troops. He removed his knife and licked it. A freaky, kinky challenge. Valekin proceeded to give the man the 'superfinger' which is when you put down your index and pinky finger, but leave up your ring and middle. It's the superfinger Bitch! Valekin made for a stab with one knife, leaving the other knife as a back up. The falcon blade only bled air, the man's knife jolted out to nail Valekin in the belly. Valekin could only twist, and was delivered a glancing blow which grounded him. Yuri was done with everyone but the last man in the room. As Valekin's arms held his stomach, he thought that his intestines were spilling out.`
"Hold your guts in sir, while I rip out their's."`Yuri had growled. Taking up the Falcon blade, and throwing his own knife at the man, then he took up the second knife Valekin was using. The thrown knife had glanced off the man's shoulder, taking out cloth, skin, blood and muscle tissued. Yuri proceeded to block the man's knife, lock it up with the Falcon blade's hilt, and then disembowel the man.`"Hold on Falcon, I'll get you out of here little brother."
`Valekin stood up on his own. Clutching his bleeding stomach, he proceed to kick the corpse that had previously tried to gut him in the temple.`"You can't kill me, I'm IMMORTAL! PANZERJAGER! HAVE YOU HEARD OF ME!?"`Valekin's anger had then shown, he was crushing the dead bodies' skull with his boot. But someone was now alert of their presence, that's right... the WHOLE base. Gun fire was heard, then explosions. Followed by more.`"Suicide charges. The squad!" Valekin and Yuri ran from the room, heading towards the control center. They were forced to gut on the go, as several gaurds and soldiers had run into them.`
`Upon reaching the control room they found smoke, many mangled bodies, two of their squadmates dead. And Klaus, sitting on a console looking victorious.`"A sacrifice that had to be made, for God."`He had said, then started to cry. He wasn't too much older than Valekin. The squad was like a brotherhood.`"Spent? Or wasted?"`Valekin asked. Klaus rubbed his thumb between his index and middle. Spent.`
"If they were Panzerjager..."`Valekin started. Yuri slapped him to get his attention, and to get him to stop being emo.`
"Then you'd be dead, now let's get out of here. Klaus, did they plant the tactical explosives?"`Yuri started, Klaus nodded in response.`"Let's get the hell out of here. Panzerjager, Klaus."`
Now after a year of bloodshed, Valekin became the victim of a government foreign exchange student program. The school he was designated to travel to was Public High School number Five hundred and Fifty Two. Valekin began thinking that it was going to become a vacation. Valekin didn't like the flight from Serbia, he had the odd feeling that the airliner he was on would be blown out of the sky by a Surface-To-Air missile that the radical muslims of Serbia held onto after seizing them from the Serbian army which had held onto the weapons after the Cold War.
Soon that fear passed as he was over mountains and ocean. Nineteen ninety to two thousand and six, that's how long he lived in that war torn piece of the old world. Eastern europe where royal families still keep their lineage and train their children in their 'fine' arts. It will be difficult for him to adjust to such a peaceful culture, so used to shells, missiles and bullets ripping through the city air when he went to town.
Upon arrival in the city that his new school was located in, he couldn't shake the forboding feeling that he was being followed, and that he would indeed be recognized by a radical and gunned down on the spot. After all, he had a sense of vulnerability because they confiscated his weapons at the airport. Now he was in a city without a weapon, one place he didn't like to be. If the cities of the rest of the world were like the cities of Serbia, he was in deeper than he thought....
Valekin never thought he'd be back here. In the middle of the Serbian wilds, on his own. This was a step backwards for him. War had called him, it tore at his heartstrings. Yet, there was no war here in Serbia. An uneasy cease fire that was instituted by the UN had been issued. That meant he was acting arbitrarily. Armed only with the Talon, and his 92G Elite mk II beretta, he waited outside a small camp of rebels. The bushes weren't the best of hiding spots, but he had to make due.
Slinking from cover he snuck up behind a perimeter guard with his back turned. Silently Valekin pulled his knife, and reversed his hold on it. The blade lined up with his forearm. Standing, Valekin slipped his right arm with the knife around the man's neck. His left bicep closed on the other side of the neck, and Valekin twisted his own torso. This resulted in a muffled snap, and the man's neck breaking. Killing him instantly.
Like a ghost, he dropped the body, and disappeared into the woods. It was a small camp, he had been watching it for days. They had about six or so men. Now five or so. Just when one rebel noticed his fallen comrade, Valekin dashed out from cover, and pulled a slashing uppercut on the man. Eviscerating him from crotch to throat. With a twirl he threw the Talon into a soldier that was training his AK-47 on him. The blade went through his chest, and protruded out of his back. He collapsed.
Valekin pulled his sidearm then, running to the dead man with his knife. He flipped him over, and pulled the knife from the man's body. Crack! Snap! Snap! One miss, and two close shots. Someone else was shooting at him. He turned to face them, and pumped three of fifteen rounds into the man's chest. The tell-tale rat-at-tat-tat-tat of Ak fire had just begun. Valekin was crazy enough to run towards the soldier shooting at him. A round struck him in the collarbone, blowing it apart. He kept running despite the pain. This was where he was alive the most. He felt so alive with a gushing wound, blood on his knife, gunfire, and death.
He ran to the side of the man, the knife slashing along the soldier's forearm, making him drop the weapon. Valekin stabbed Talon into the man's right kidney, and put the muzzle of the beretta to his temple. Bam!
The soldiers brains flew out the other side. Valekin removed the Talon and let the body drop.
An enemy soldier was trying to escape in a jeep, he had heard it start up. Valekin fired. His clip was almost gone, he kept missing. Then as luck would have it, he scored a hit on the back of the soldier's head, just as the last living soldier had tried to put a knife in his back. Only to score dirt, and have his own back slashed open by the Talon. Valekin dropped the Beretta, and kicked the man in the head as he had gotten up. The man stumbled backwards, then thrust the knife at Valekin's abdomen.
Valekin parried just in time, spun, and slashed the man's shoulder. Severing the deltoid. The rebel switched hands and went for Valekin again.
The Baron parried, grabbed the man's arm, and dislocated the elbow with a punch to the joint. Then it bent a way it shouldn't have, and broke. The man slouched, and kneeled on the ground. Breathing heavily.
Valekin walked around behind him. His body numb from adrenaline and euphoria. With two light strokes of the Talon, he had severed both carotid arteries. Blood sprayed from the man's neck, and drenched the ground as he died....
"Valekin! Wake up!" Yuri said knocking on his door. Again Vale had dreamed of what he had done before returning to New York. He stared at the cieling, and missed the feeling.
Living Status Information[/u]
Type of residence: A secret base in a nearby industrial complex.
Roommates: Members of the Black Hand and Shadow Knights.
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: Lots
Stats:
Strength: 32
Dexterity: 61 (Capped at 40)
Constitution: 33
Intelligence: 42 (Capped at 40)
Wisdom: 42 (Capped at 40)
Charisma: 20
Total Starting XP: 230
Unused: 25
Total gained: 0
Last but not least, Bio Approval Code Phrase: "Put my earmuffs on the cupcake, Jenkins."
Name: Valekin Von Kaluskov XII
Age/Grade: 21
Height: Six Feet
Weight: One Hundred and Seventy One pounds.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Eye Color: Dark Blue
Hair: Black, middle back length.
Pastime Information
Hobbies/Talents/Skills: Murdering Criminals, Hacking, Black Ops, Special Warfare, Melee weapon specialization, firearms specialization, torture techniques, etc.
Sports: None
Clubs: None
Gangs: Black Hand Organization Leader, Shadow Knights Organization Leader.
Misc.: He likes to go to schools and scope out the potential.
Mental Information
Personality:
Things have changed for Valekin over the years. No longer the righteous warrior, but now a homicidal maniac. He's completely insane, and totally twisted. He lives off of violence, and has become rather cannibalistic. He radiates violence and terror, his stare alone could possibly reduce one's resolve to ashes. To say the least, he has the most extreme, insane, personality. Totally sadistic. For him, it's kill or be killed.
On top of being totally insane, he appears to be increasingly random in his actions and behaviors. Some things might strike him funny, and two seconds later, he'll kill you for it. To be short, he cycles between moods exceptionally quickly, and it is hard to understand where his mood is just by looking at him some of the time. At other times it is possible to discern that he is in a homicidal mindset or other mindset just by looking at his face. He has no regard for most human life, and does not care whom his actions hurt.
He is also quite intelligent and is extremely capable in that regard. Many people would suggest that he's just a homicidal maniac with no calculated intentions. That would be a falsehood. Valekin is an extremely competent and highly calculating individual. Most of the moves he makes were well planned out in advance, and quite meticulously. He is also silently arrogant.
Likes: Women, weapons, ammunition, eating people, vodka, and candy.
Dislikes: Goody Two Shoes, idiots, criminals (ha ha), rapists, other degradations of society and degenerates.
Mentality/Ideal/Belief: This has become increasingly difficult to place. It is known that he is totally loony, but his calculating nature gives one the sense of a mission being involved.
Physical Information
Build: Military
Defining Marks: Various tattoos all over his body, as well as scars, and genetic modifications.
Description:
He was a rather tall kid, slim yet at an ideal weight for his height. A life in royal serbia had him accustomed to medieval armor and swords, taking away the body fat that would normally be present from being relatively lazy. He had long legs and arms, his face was angular, with a well shaped jaw. His eyelids were shadowed naturally from a bleak outlook on existance. Pale lips and a light complextion, his fingers slender and rather dexterous.
He looked older than he really was, people have been known to mistake him for a man of twenty or so. Under his clothes he managed to have many bodily scars, three diagonal from right-to-left slashes across his torso, closer to the right pectoral and shoulder than his stomach. A short stab wound to his left kidney, two bullet wounds to his left shoulder, two inches apart, one lower and closer to the right. One horizontal slash that looked rather light across his belly, three inches below his navel. Two short slashes across his left thigh, on the top. Three more on the other thigh, from top wrapping around to the outside. Someone had scored a light hit on his head, as the left temple was scarred to just above his ear.
Rather recently, his appearance had changed. He had sharpened his canines, and his eyes had taken a lavender turn, though they're still more blackish blue. Striking lashes and brows, with ellipsed iris'. Where his body hadn't been scarred, it had been tattooed. Ranging from flames to tribal symbols. Showing his detachment from God. His hair's a little more purple now, signifying the twisting of his mind. His ears have been misshapen and are heavily laden with golden loops. He doesn't wear a necklace often, but sometimes he wears the skull chain.
His apparel varies from normal clothing, to business, clothing, to various disguises, to the usual night camouflage combat pants, studded belt with knife sheath, trench coat with many pockets, and no shirt. He is often seen wearing a pair of medieval light gauntlets.
Fighting Information
Fighting Style: Various close quarters combat techniques, street fighting, boxing, wrestling.
Years Practiced: over fifteen.
Description of style: When it comes down to combat, he's agile and precise. His moves are executed quickly, and with the accuracy to turn someone inert. He'll opt for dodging rather than blocking, and he'll opt for a hold over a jumping strike. He's an all around dirty fighter, he's had moments where he had to fight dirty to win, and stay alive. At times he can be incredibly direct, from punching you straight in the face, to kicking you in the balls. At other times he will use other techniques, such as forcing you to bleed out by clawing your body, and cutting various arteries. If he can dispatch you using stealth, he will. Sudden strikes are a specialty of his, it tends to come from his semi-random moods.
Overall Strengths: He is an overall agile fighter, and is strong and durable to boot. There have been witnesses that have seen him punch through a wall, kick a large chunk of concrete free from a wall, as well as rip off a car door. Others have seen him take a bullet to the face, and spit it out of his mouth a moment later. He has been getting much better at handling a large group of enemies, and he tends to end fights rather quickly.
Overall Weaknesses: His mental disposition and his history are serious drawbacks for him. If he encounters someone that knows his past and they bring it up in the fight, it is unknown what he would do. He has a tendency to go berserk, and not fight with any sense at all. Due to recent events people that are stronger or faster than him tend to be larger obstacles than they were before.
History Information
History: The War
~`Valekin was ordered to take up a sniper point in a building of his choosing, in the ruined city of Besra. Imagine looking down the sniper scope with three or four other guys around you watching your back. They’re armed with Kalashnikovs, also known as the Soviet Alma-Ata Kalashnikov. Valekin knew these men, and he trusted them to watch his ass as he looked down the scope into the ruined city. He was viewing the middle of a rebel camp. Those rebelling against the Serbian army were one of two types of people in the eyes of the government and army, heretics, or radical muslims. As it was said amongst his allies and friends, amongst his country and government. Kill the heretic, and the radical in the name of God.`
`He was going to do just that. Bracing the SVD 7.62mm Soviet sniper rifle against his shoulder, he peered down the scope as a thirteen year old boy, in the middle of a war. A panzer tank rolled in, then out of view. It looked like the rebels were on the move, he didn’t have long to finish off as many as he could. That was his mission, kill as many as possible. During the war, no one knew who was the leader of any rebel cell. The orders were to kill everyone. Always.`
Hail Mary..
`He cycled the bolt, and slammed the clip into the slot. Then cycled the bolt again. Now, peering down the scope of the rifle he took aim, the back of the man’s head. He looked rather important, ordering other men and women around. Valekin twisted the knobs on the scope, compensating for wind and sway. Then, slowly he removed his right index finger from the trigger guard and placed it on the trigger itself.`
Full of grace...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist was seen, then the exit wound showed itself. He cycled the bolt, discarding the spent round, then cycled it back into place. Click, slik, slik, click. Next, there was only slight shock when the man’s brains were blown out, many ducked, others began arming themselves. Some even began looking for him. He picked another target, someone that was looking right at him. He could see their face.`
The lord is with you...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist followed and the target went down. A single tear welled up in both of Valekin’s eyes. He cycled the bolt, and then cycled it back into place. Click, slik, slik, click. Next, a target with an RPG. Rocket propelled grenades were dangerous, he had to take that out. He aimed for the man’s head, then chest... he couldn’t handle directly killing someone else so soon. He aimed for the RPG round itself.`
Blessed art thou amongst women...
`Crack! KABOOM! Chaos erupted as the round exploded, blowing the man and several others to pieces. Several crates full of ammunition caught fire and exploded soon after. As the smoke began to clear, he watched the rebels, now almost fully armed, get up. They were in shell shock. An affliction that renders people unconcious, blind, deaf, in a state of shock, or dead. Everything but deaf was temporary. He cycled the bolt. Four 7.62mm rounds left. Click, slik. Slik, click. Next target, a rebel soldier getting up.`
And Blessed is the fruit of thy womb..
“Jesus...”
`He whispered to himself.`
`Crack! Chest shot, pink mist and he crumpled to the ground. The round went right through both lungs thanks to the angle. Valekin blinked, getting the tears out of his now clouded vision. Cycling the bolt he cleared the round and reloaded it. Click, slik. Slik, Click. Next target, another rebel getting up, he was unfortunate enough to have a fifty caliber machine gun with him. Yuri was with him, and placed a consoling hand on Valekin’s shoulder. He silently thanked him, and aimed while the other members of the squad left the room and began their descent towards the streets.`
Holy Mary, Mother of God...
`Crack! Head shot, pink mist followed. Valekin began to think more coldly towards what he was doing, the slaughter was something he was getting used to. Cycling the bolt he sobbed once, and never again during the mission. Cleared, two rounds left. What bloody work a boy must do in the name of God. Only.. He didn’t know that was heresy in itself.`
Pray for us sinners...
`Crack! Torso shot. The exit wound had to have been about the size of a tangerine. Valekin had from that day foreward believed there was always blood on his hands, physically. He’d wash them even when they are clean. Trying to wash away what he had done, what had traumatized him so. One round left. And there were three targets in his sight. He picked one, the rebel that was now hefting an RPG, and pointing it at his squadmates who were moving towards the camp.`
Now and at the hour of our death...
`Crack! Head shot, the velocity of the round sent the man on his ass. He was already dead, but it was almost comical the way he fell. The weight of the RPG had pushed him down when his body went limp after the bullet ripped out his brains, making him almost sit, then lay down. He cycled the bolt, and the final casing flew out, as well as the metal plate for loading. He was empty.` “Come on Valekin, let’s go!” Yuri told him. Grabbing the young man by the shoulder, and pulling him to his feet. Kalashnikov fire was heard as his squad mowed down the rest of the rebels.` “Amen..” Valekin said finally.`
~`A month later. Valekin had become more and more comfortable with the idea of spilling blood and giving people new holes to breathe out of. He had progressed quite well physically, and not quite well psychologically. Close encounters with land mines, hollow point rounds, tanks, and shell shock had left him on the brink of insanity. This was his second major mission. Infiltration and total annihilation. The objective? Get inside the Forsavk rebel base, and destroy everything. This wasn't something they could just assault though. The base was situated in the mountains, and it was well defended. A paradrop with silent weapons and breaching explosives was the best tactic.`
"Alright! You're over the target, jump in..!" The paradrop instructor was yelling over the high volume of air passing through the cabin where our pal Valekin, and his squadmates were preparing. He was first up, and damn it if he wasn't scared. He had his goggles on, his parachute, the flight suit, and he was armed. Of course he didn't have the explosives, you throw those on along with his longsword and his knife, and you weigh the kid down. He was already going to fall like a sack of hammers. Yuri had the explosives.`
"Three, Two, One! GO!" The instructor pushed Valekin out of the plane, and the rest of the squad followed. They made a rapid descent through the mountain's thin air. He felt like he was floating all of a sudden, then he realised that he had reached terminal velocity, and if he didn't release his chute in mere seconds, he'd flatten himself all over the mountain side. Man, paradrops suck! With a sharp tug he released the black parachute and glided through the night to a nice soft landing ontop of the base. The rest of the squad landed soon after, no one was off-key either. All made a perfect landing ontop the base's highest structure. Which was the water purification unit. Yuri moved towards the vent and removed a screwdriver from his pack. He removed the vent's cover, and Valekin looked inside through night vision goggles.`
"Clear"`Valekin whispered as he dropped into the room. The only thing he could hear was the low humming of the filters and machinery. The rest of the squad secured the area, and Yuri set to work, planting time bombs on two of the units.`"That's good enough."`Yuri muttered. Valekin slowly drew his eight inch bowie knife, carbon steel, serrated edge. It was totally badass. Folded almost a hundred times, and on the blade's sides a falcon diving for it's prey was emblazoned into the steel. Quite appropriate indeed. Valekin cautiously moved towards the door, and then stood to the side. Motioning for the squad to move out of the door's view.`
`He knocked on the door twice, footsteps. The door opened with a creak.`" Eh? Whose in there?"`The poor man that started to stick his head into the room would find that Valekin had quickly wrapped his right arm around his neck and pulled him into the room. The left hand, which was brandishing the blade, had started to drag the deadly weapon along the man's throat from right to left. Severing both the caratoid artery, the trachea, and the jugular, blood spurted out of the neck wound and spattered the ground, literally flowing out of the man's neck.`
`Valekin pulled the body in and dragged it behind a unit, while the rest of the squad had moved into the next room. A few gurgles were heard, blood hitting a concrete floor from eight feet or so. All of that Valekin had picked up before entering the room. The squad of four had disposed of three other men without a single sound. It was a small radio room.`"Yuri, fire bombs in that equipment."`Yuri saluted and started to take apart the equipment and place thermite fire bombs inside them, so that when activated, and back-up was called for. The bombs would go off, burning through everything, including the floor.`
`It was soon decided that the squad would split up into one group of two, and one group of three. Valekin and Yuri, Josef, Klaus, and Rolak. The trio went left, into a hall towards the command center. It wasn't a very practical base lay out, that was for sure. But I guess the rebels didn't count on being jumped like this eh? Valekin and Yuri moved down the next hall, slowly following behind a pair of guards who were talking between themselves. Valekin, despite Yuri's violent head shaking, had drawn his longsword, and notified them of his presence. SHIIIINK! SHILICH, SHILICH! Sliiiiik.`
`Blood was all over the walls, two singular movements had both cut the men down, but had spread a pattern of blood in the blade's wake. The men's torso's were cut diagonally, and they were cut all the way through, there were four pieces of body on the floor, bleeding excessively. Valekin started moving, and Yuri followed. The longsword proved useful in close quarter combat, and it would give the men of this particular base to talk about. The pair had proceeded down the hall into the generator room. Yet, the door was locked.`
"Breach the door?"`Valekin asked, quizzically. Yuri nodded, and removed a home-made shrapnel door breach explosive. Basically it was a small explosive compound with nails, broken glass, screws, and pieces of metal all rolled into one. He stuck it to the door, and pressed the red button on the control panel, priming the detonation. Both males moved to either side of the door, brandishing knives. THUMP! Nails and the like flew all through the next room as the lock to the door was blown into scrap. Several groans were heard, and a few men screamed. The God's of Death entered the room. Knives out in the open. Smoke was everywhere, and the shrapnel was imbedded in everything. People, machines, computers, generators. Everything. Valekin put the nearest living man into a half-nelson while he was convulsing. Then dragged the knife along the man's stomach, actually spilling the man's intestines onto the floor. He moved on.`
`Yuri was busy slitting throats and stabbing hearts, while Valekin was taking his dear sweet time playing with the corporal's skull. The man in charge of the room was already dead. Valekin was now peeling it like an orange, he'd leave it there too, so that the next person dumb enough to enter the room would get a nice look. And then the next person to pick it up, would find a little surprise. A fire bomb was planted in, and under the skull. Yuri was long finished by this time, and was busy rigging every generator to explode.`"Your mother."
"My mother? Falcon, your mother is my mother, don't be dissing mommy."
"She's not your real mother. But yea, I get you."
"What made you decide to put mom down anyway?"
"Eh, it's all the rage in town." They left it at that, and proceeded out of the room and down the hall again, and waited outside another room. Valekin knocked on the door, same as before. And same as before, one man opened the door looking for someone. Valekin's right hand went right to the man's belt, where his knife was. He removed it, and simultaneously stabbed him with both the blade, and the knife. One in the neck, and the other in the heart. He angled both weapons, and pulled the man out of the room, Yuri followed up with a well placed flash grenade, which went off and blinded everyone in the bloody room. Then, both proceeded to gut, and stab everyone in the room.`
"You won't be getting me so easily Panzerjager!" A guard said while Yuri was busy finishing off some of the troops. He removed his knife and licked it. A freaky, kinky challenge. Valekin proceeded to give the man the 'superfinger' which is when you put down your index and pinky finger, but leave up your ring and middle. It's the superfinger Bitch! Valekin made for a stab with one knife, leaving the other knife as a back up. The falcon blade only bled air, the man's knife jolted out to nail Valekin in the belly. Valekin could only twist, and was delivered a glancing blow which grounded him. Yuri was done with everyone but the last man in the room. As Valekin's arms held his stomach, he thought that his intestines were spilling out.`
"Hold your guts in sir, while I rip out their's."`Yuri had growled. Taking up the Falcon blade, and throwing his own knife at the man, then he took up the second knife Valekin was using. The thrown knife had glanced off the man's shoulder, taking out cloth, skin, blood and muscle tissued. Yuri proceeded to block the man's knife, lock it up with the Falcon blade's hilt, and then disembowel the man.`"Hold on Falcon, I'll get you out of here little brother."
`Valekin stood up on his own. Clutching his bleeding stomach, he proceed to kick the corpse that had previously tried to gut him in the temple.`"You can't kill me, I'm IMMORTAL! PANZERJAGER! HAVE YOU HEARD OF ME!?"`Valekin's anger had then shown, he was crushing the dead bodies' skull with his boot. But someone was now alert of their presence, that's right... the WHOLE base. Gun fire was heard, then explosions. Followed by more.`"Suicide charges. The squad!" Valekin and Yuri ran from the room, heading towards the control center. They were forced to gut on the go, as several gaurds and soldiers had run into them.`
`Upon reaching the control room they found smoke, many mangled bodies, two of their squadmates dead. And Klaus, sitting on a console looking victorious.`"A sacrifice that had to be made, for God."`He had said, then started to cry. He wasn't too much older than Valekin. The squad was like a brotherhood.`"Spent? Or wasted?"`Valekin asked. Klaus rubbed his thumb between his index and middle. Spent.`
"If they were Panzerjager..."`Valekin started. Yuri slapped him to get his attention, and to get him to stop being emo.`
"Then you'd be dead, now let's get out of here. Klaus, did they plant the tactical explosives?"`Yuri started, Klaus nodded in response.`"Let's get the hell out of here. Panzerjager, Klaus."`
Now after a year of bloodshed, Valekin became the victim of a government foreign exchange student program. The school he was designated to travel to was Public High School number Five hundred and Fifty Two. Valekin began thinking that it was going to become a vacation. Valekin didn't like the flight from Serbia, he had the odd feeling that the airliner he was on would be blown out of the sky by a Surface-To-Air missile that the radical muslims of Serbia held onto after seizing them from the Serbian army which had held onto the weapons after the Cold War.
Soon that fear passed as he was over mountains and ocean. Nineteen ninety to two thousand and six, that's how long he lived in that war torn piece of the old world. Eastern europe where royal families still keep their lineage and train their children in their 'fine' arts. It will be difficult for him to adjust to such a peaceful culture, so used to shells, missiles and bullets ripping through the city air when he went to town.
Upon arrival in the city that his new school was located in, he couldn't shake the forboding feeling that he was being followed, and that he would indeed be recognized by a radical and gunned down on the spot. After all, he had a sense of vulnerability because they confiscated his weapons at the airport. Now he was in a city without a weapon, one place he didn't like to be. If the cities of the rest of the world were like the cities of Serbia, he was in deeper than he thought....
Valekin never thought he'd be back here. In the middle of the Serbian wilds, on his own. This was a step backwards for him. War had called him, it tore at his heartstrings. Yet, there was no war here in Serbia. An uneasy cease fire that was instituted by the UN had been issued. That meant he was acting arbitrarily. Armed only with the Talon, and his 92G Elite mk II beretta, he waited outside a small camp of rebels. The bushes weren't the best of hiding spots, but he had to make due.
Slinking from cover he snuck up behind a perimeter guard with his back turned. Silently Valekin pulled his knife, and reversed his hold on it. The blade lined up with his forearm. Standing, Valekin slipped his right arm with the knife around the man's neck. His left bicep closed on the other side of the neck, and Valekin twisted his own torso. This resulted in a muffled snap, and the man's neck breaking. Killing him instantly.
Like a ghost, he dropped the body, and disappeared into the woods. It was a small camp, he had been watching it for days. They had about six or so men. Now five or so. Just when one rebel noticed his fallen comrade, Valekin dashed out from cover, and pulled a slashing uppercut on the man. Eviscerating him from crotch to throat. With a twirl he threw the Talon into a soldier that was training his AK-47 on him. The blade went through his chest, and protruded out of his back. He collapsed.
Valekin pulled his sidearm then, running to the dead man with his knife. He flipped him over, and pulled the knife from the man's body. Crack! Snap! Snap! One miss, and two close shots. Someone else was shooting at him. He turned to face them, and pumped three of fifteen rounds into the man's chest. The tell-tale rat-at-tat-tat-tat of Ak fire had just begun. Valekin was crazy enough to run towards the soldier shooting at him. A round struck him in the collarbone, blowing it apart. He kept running despite the pain. This was where he was alive the most. He felt so alive with a gushing wound, blood on his knife, gunfire, and death.
He ran to the side of the man, the knife slashing along the soldier's forearm, making him drop the weapon. Valekin stabbed Talon into the man's right kidney, and put the muzzle of the beretta to his temple. Bam!
The soldiers brains flew out the other side. Valekin removed the Talon and let the body drop.
An enemy soldier was trying to escape in a jeep, he had heard it start up. Valekin fired. His clip was almost gone, he kept missing. Then as luck would have it, he scored a hit on the back of the soldier's head, just as the last living soldier had tried to put a knife in his back. Only to score dirt, and have his own back slashed open by the Talon. Valekin dropped the Beretta, and kicked the man in the head as he had gotten up. The man stumbled backwards, then thrust the knife at Valekin's abdomen.
Valekin parried just in time, spun, and slashed the man's shoulder. Severing the deltoid. The rebel switched hands and went for Valekin again.
The Baron parried, grabbed the man's arm, and dislocated the elbow with a punch to the joint. Then it bent a way it shouldn't have, and broke. The man slouched, and kneeled on the ground. Breathing heavily.
Valekin walked around behind him. His body numb from adrenaline and euphoria. With two light strokes of the Talon, he had severed both carotid arteries. Blood sprayed from the man's neck, and drenched the ground as he died....
"Valekin! Wake up!" Yuri said knocking on his door. Again Vale had dreamed of what he had done before returning to New York. He stared at the cieling, and missed the feeling.
Living Status Information[/u]
Type of residence: A secret base in a nearby industrial complex.
Roommates: Members of the Black Hand and Shadow Knights.
Cases Against The Faculty: 0
Cases Of Hurting Students: Lots
| Placement | Item(s) |
| Head | |
| Hat/Bandana | N/A |
| Earrings | N/A |
| Glasses | N/A |
| [/td | |
| Torso | |
| Shirt | N/A |
| Jacket/Coat | N/A |
| Neck | N/A |
| [/td | |
| Arms | |
| Arm | N/A |
| Wrist | N/A |
| Gloves | Panzer Hand Gauntlets (unusable currently) |
| Ring | N/A |
| [/td | |
| Legs | |
| Pants | N/A |
| Shin | N/A |
| Shoes | N/A |
| Belt | N/A |
| [/td | |
| Misc | |
| 1 | N/A |
| 2 | N/A |
Stats:
Strength: 32
Dexterity: 61 (Capped at 40)
Constitution: 33
Intelligence: 42 (Capped at 40)
Wisdom: 42 (Capped at 40)
Charisma: 20
Total Starting XP: 230
Unused: 25
Total gained: 0
Last but not least, Bio Approval Code Phrase: "Put my earmuffs on the cupcake, Jenkins."
