Seru Chaker

    Born: August 23rd, 1975
    Eye Colour: Tan-Yellow
    Hair Colour: Brown
    Height: 6’4”
    Weight: 211 lbs
   
Born on August 23rd, of the year 1975. Seru was born into a militarist family. His father had been a Marine since he was able to drive, moving up in the ranks as swift as he could fire his gun. So, of course with that in mind, Seru had a very strict upbringing. Private schools were the educational institutes of choice. His father was constantly telling Seru, how great it was to serve your country, to protect your people and some day, Seru would do the same. Like most people when forced into things, Seru hated the private schools, and disliked the preaching’s of his father. In turn, he grew to despise any life he was being led into.

He always thought of himself as having different dreams. Meeting unique people, not suits, not uniforms. Certainly not those stuff-short children, who all knew just how spoiled they were and showed it, even loved it.

At the age of about twelve his parents separated. His father took custody over him during their separation; both parents thought it would be for the best, as the father’s career made him the likely choice to care for the young boy. Seru was put through a series of military schools immediately after his parents divorce; suddenly the private schools seemed more like a blessing then anything else. Instead of spoiled brats he was flung in with wanna-be’s and ego-tripped teens fuelled by the rush of learning how to wage combat. His father quite strict in making his son the perfect model of a man, thought such things best and left Seru’s pleas for freedom to ignorance.

Though he despised his life at this point Seru learned quite well the combat training and other tasks set before him once he was enrolled in the barracks. It seemed to be a way to calm him, regardless of his hate for being forced into this life, it was kind of like the punch a pillow theory, and it calmed him to be in combat scenarios, his anger with life became a sort of fuel. He could relate with his anger to succeed at his tasks, use it, and control it. He always seemed distant to the people around him because of it, including his father. As time progressed with age, Seru had become quite exceptional in all his training, combat, firearms, strategic warfare, and all the rest of that military bullshit. Mastering each test, especially those related of fitness, strength, and will. But despite his perfect adeptness to the trainings, despite his ability, skill and talent, he was always somewhat of a rebel. Disobeying most, if not, every order a superior officer gave him. Never keeping up with any other studies then those of a physical nature and discipline, his academic scores slipped dramatically. It wasn’t that he was too dumb, that academic shit was easy. It just, bored him, it never calmed him, never relaxed him.

Soon enough, his father gave up, thinking of his son as nothing more than an embarrassment he had him disbanded. Rather then keeping his son around, because he was no longer anything more then a humiliation, his father sent him away; back to the mother he no longer knew. Life went down from there.
 
His mother, simply put, had lost herself. Dead end jobs, dead end neighbourhoods, a dead end road to nowhere. He hated it more than he had despised most of the military. Eventually, it all led him astray even further from the path of his life, leading him to a life on the street more often than at home. He began running with local gangs, his skills making him a good asset, of sorts, to those he grouped with. It seemed his life though illegally run, had turned to the best in his eyes. He meant something now; he had a new family that appreciated him for the way he was, who he was, even if it was to create chaos on the streets. He felt, in some way, it would better him somehow; he’d meet his father again some day, and prove what skills he had learned. Perhaps, use them against that pompous bastard.

During a gang war against a rival gang Seru was, oddly enough, taken down, finally beaten, though it took a good few men at the same time, but none the less, he’d been beaten, stabbed three times along the abdominal area. As sirens broke into the night, separating the war as each fled in turn, he was left to die. Left by those he thought had taken him in for good. Left for the crows that would surely come for the scraps.

As vision slipped from greys to blurs, the figure of another pulled into sight. The voice that came to him spoke of a way to heal the wounds, and end the torture? Seru was on the verge of blacking out, shock taking over his almost limp form as he pushed himself along the ground in a hysterical attempt to escape anyone. Though the last ounces of energies allowed the simple curses he slurred toward the man, a mumbling ensemble of swears and dismissals, he hadn’t much left.

As vision once more faded, pulling from blurs to blackness, he felt himself being lifted from the ground. Hell, he was in shock, he figured he was dead and his spirit was waving “Bye, bye!” That feeling was flushed away almost instantly as a piercing sensation gripped his neck, more like a pair of needles than anything else, but he was gone now, taken by death…. or so he thought.

During what he figured were his last moments, the only thing that pissed him off was not his death, but that he would never be able to take revenge on his father. Never be able to shove the man’s words down his throat for good.

He awoke, what he thought was simply hours later, but in truth, a day had passed. The shock of what had happened still plagued him as he leapt up, or tried, finding his muscles incapable of movement, too stiff it seemed. Or was it just his mind saying that, telling him that. A man laughed in the distance, Seru’s attention bore to him in an instant. The man he had seen in a collection of blurs the night before sat only a few feet away. The man spoke after a second short spurt of laughter. Proceeding to tell him what had happened the night before, and as though thinking it was normal, proceeded to tell Seru that he had bit him, released him from the pain. Brought him into a darkness and blah, blah, blah. Seru was impatient, and everything this psycho was talking about was not only irate, but also impossible. The guy should be in a straight jacket, Seru thought.

Seru grew annoyed, and managed to stand, attempting to walk away. Brushing the man’s ramblings off without a second thought. With that the man laughed once more, a moment later hurling Seru down half the length of the alley they were in. Before he could even acknowledge what happened the man knelt over him with a sinister grin. A quad pair of four fangs extended out from the man’s upper lip. “What the fuc..?” Seru was, well, bewildered and no longer had a choice but to listen. In fact, something inside intrigued him to listen.
 
Seru and Barbus Vorstadt; his sire, as he had come to learn, grew to be good friends over the passing years. Barbus taught Seru many things, told him about a world Seru would never have thought existed, yet was now a part of. He taught him how to control the new gifts Seru had found he had, taught him to use them well. Only about two years after his embrace Seru’s sire, Barbus, came to an untimely demise. Seru was left to fend for himself. And so he did. His travels brought him to Atlanta. There he walked the streets for many nights, weeks, and months as a Hunter. He cared not for those who knew what he was; most never lived long enough to tell anyone. He had become a monster.

One night, upon his hunting he met another, one who he had assumed was simply human, as he had never learned any ways of telling the difference. Her name was Caterina Pazzi; she took him in and gave him a life. Realizing his talents and knowing she, like so many others in his past, could use them for her own means. He was accepted into her pack, and into the Sabbat. Though, he was never given his creation rites, never put through what a true member would have been. Caterina wanted him to herself, and therefore bound him to her, and her alone, he was her pet. He became sort of a, bodyguard, of sorts. Given everything he wanted, a new car, a new home, money, a new wardrobe, weapons not only for his use, but for his extensive collection as well, he was given everything. Now things were really going the right way. He learned things swiftly, and though he never truly took part in the happenings of the Sabbat he was always there, at Caterina’s side, listening, silent; thus, learning. He learned much in those days.

 
A year or so passed and Caterina disappeared, once more he was left to fend for himself. He became a bit of a recluse in the times to follow. Rarely going out, rarely even hunting. He went days sometimes without feeding. Time enough passed and he kind of, over night, snapped out of it. Throwing himself onto the scene once more. Something new, he was to be feared once more. The loss of Caterina continued to plague him though, she had taught him much, how to live as more than a rat. She introduced him into society, so to speak. Soon enough, Atlanta held nothing for him anymore.

With Atlanta behind him, his travels took flight. Soon enough his path came to rest in Indianapolis. No longer in the company of another, no longer a friend to any, he took up making his own way in this new world. With the money that had been left to him by Caterina he had more then enough to move his belongings and re-establish himself in the new surroundings. With his haven in good order and everything else organized Seru set out into the night. It was a slow start, really, but soon enough he came to meet a number of his brethren. Cara MacLeod being the most significant.

During his days in Atlanta, before Caterina Pazzi, he had met this woman quite briefly. Now, it seemed, they were destined to meet once more. Cara and Seru spent much time in the night. Seru, as it were, was always saving Cara from her own big mouth. And, just the same, Cara was always saving Seru from his own actions. Whether it was of physical or verbal nature, the two always managed to make a troublesome name for themselves. Months passed until a year grew close to its edge, and suddenly as if to hail an anniversary, Caterina showed up in Indianapolis. Seru’s new life had taken him away from the Sabbat, as he was never truly a part of them in the first place, his new standing had created a version of him that did not need Ms. Pazzi. Though, to see her once more seemed to corrupt the entire stability. He had thought her dead, and now she found him. Though, he wondered if it was he she had come for, the answer came, for once again she departed without a word. Time fluttered away on the wings of ravens and once again, Seru found himself desiring to move on. Cara had decided to depart as well, thus moving left no guilt within him.


Seru took to travel the path of his dead heart once more. This time, though, he gathered none of his belongings, leaving his haven, his weapons collection, everything… except the money, of course. That was easy enough to bring along. As well as a couple light and easily concealed weapons, some various accessory items, and a few outfits. Even leaving behind his beloved baby, his Military-class Custom Hummer. Seru took to hitchhiking and left all behind, it was time for a new road, a new direction…