Name: Sasha Nikolai Valeri
Nickname: Niko
Race: Neko-jin ~ Tora-mimi
Age:17
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 155bs
Hair: White
Eyes: Amber
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual
Build: Thin but well-muscled
Birthday: April 7th
Nationality: Full Russian genealogy
Appearance: His hair, now combed smooth, rolls down his shoulder-blades at the back, feathering slightly upwards as it moves forward. Twin braids, thin in make, hang from the right side of his head. When asked about them he doesnt really say much,shrugging and replying that it was something he had done since he could remember. Stripe like markings cover his skin, matching the ear and tail he has. He tends to wear an old patched leather jacket, the first thing he had ever received from his 'brother'. The rest of his wardrobe usually consists of shredded jeans and faded band shirts, pretty much anything he can scavenge that doesnt feel itchy and new from a first hand store.
About his neck is a rather ragged band of irritated skin. Paler than the rest of him, it looks as though it were chafed constantly nd never had a chance to really heal. On each wrist is a similar marking, though they are smaller in comparison. Unlike his braids, he refuses to answer anyone about the reason of these scars. If they need to know, it's in his medical record.
School: While he is a very quick learner, he is still rather behind in his schoolwork. Most of all it seems he has a hard time fully grasping the english language. Tenses and sentence structure being the main problem, though he seems to get his point across easily enough.
Personality: Due to his background, Sasha seems to come off rather rough, his tone a bit coarse and seemingly unfriendly with the cold looks he gives. But after becoming used to people his voice will warm somewhat. He is an adrenaline junkie, always looking for something exciting to do with his time.
Character History: His story starts in a small town in the frozen tundra of Russia. Born to a poor but loving family, little Sasha grew to care deeply for his mother and father. Unfortunately, love didnt buy food or clothing, and the small family was threadbare each winter. During his eighth year, his parents took him to the central city, scraping up enough rubles to show him some hope in their dismal lives. They brought him to a city large enough that their ce;celebration of christmas was lit and cheerful. The boy enjoyed every minute of being inside the warm cathedral for their Vespers, even though he didnt really understand the latin parts.
When they exited the building he was wide eyed and full of cheer, swinging his arms with his parents. They too were happy to see their offspring so, glad the trip was worth it. At the train station, the crowds were bustling, easy to lose people so his father held tightly to both of them. But that wasn't what they needed to lookout for. Casually as they moved down the edge of the line, his parents were mugged. Once the attackers found out they had nothing but the clothes on them and their fare home, they were beaten. His father told him to run away, but the boy hesitated, needing only another yell as the blunt object they used smashed into his father's head.
Lost in the train station he starts to cry, already cold from the weather and afraid at the sight of blood coming from his mother. As the crowds of the evening thin, a rather scraggly man comes upon him, looking innocently concerned. The naive child mistakes his kindness and goes with him. Thus started his indenture with a gang. The teen took him to a worn down warehouse, feeding him a hot meal and explaining lies of hope and togetherness of their 'brotherhood.'
Fed stories of exciting lives and boyish roughhousing, he slowly begins to forget about the grisly death of his parents, becoming accustomed to stealing food for a living. When he began to grow into a teen,their interests peaked. Tricking him into breaking into a store for money, they 'rescue' him, telling him he was far too much trouble. Noting how well muscled and reflexive the boy had grown, they easily sold him into an underground cage fighting ring, uncaring that the street urchin had thought them true family.
He spent his teens in the old facility, steadily becoming more feral as they threw him into the ring. Soon, all he looked forward to was surviving, seeing what happened to people that lost more than a few times. He lived like this until the age of fifteen. One night, mid fight with a large male the lights went down, and smoke began to fill the dingy area. Coughing he sagged to the floor, looking up at a gas masked stranger before passing out.
He spent many months recuperating from malnourishment and receiving vaccinations, hearing that many like him were rescued like that, but never from such a young age. Slowly he became somewhat tamer, allowing them to provide a tutor. A few short months later, he was stamped able to join the world, but only at specified locations. His caretaker gave him one last gift, getting in touch with the Faust house and wheedling him into a room there where he could learn how to live normally and be loved like a family again.
Sasha Nikolai Valeri
