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[color=ff8333]Sergei stands around 6'1" with a rather stout yet firm appearance. He is pretty well taken care of for the most part, his body is not as muscular as it once was but he is fit for his age. Like most Russians he has a rather toughened face with a grizzled beard albeit going on salt and pepper colored with faded brown thrown into the mix. Heavy set eyebrows and a fairly full head of salt and peppered brown hair that is medium length. His eye's are a dark brown and always have the appearance on one who has much pride within themselves. Being one for more neutral colored clothes he is usually wearing something that is of a black and gray pigment. As he is from an older generation he can often be seen wearing a suit like build. This build usually consists of a black dress shirt, long overcoat, a scarf usually around his neck, a pair of dress shoes and dress pants, and of course his signature Ushanka and dark shaded glasses.

It is unfortunate in that current age that such attire is not really suited like it once was in a more civilized world. Many aspects have changed since the start of the war. Now and days his hair a bit longer and his beard a bit more erratic. Still sticking to neutral colors he can most commonly be seen wearing a pair of scuffed black boots, loose faded black dress pants, a plain black t-shirt covered by a torn black overcoat, dirty scarf and still his signature Ushanka and now cracked dark shaded glasses.[/color]

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[color=ff8333]53[/color]

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[color=ff8333]Male[/color]

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[color=ff8333]Sergei Vasily Borodin was born in a small village outside of Moscow, Russia to a peasant father and mother who did not have much to their names. Like much of Russian at the time, life was fairly hard in his lands and often filled with strife and power struggles and a mounting distrust among officials. Much of his childhood days were spent wrapped in a thin blanket trying to keep warm or on the streets trying to find food while his parents spent their days trying to make some currency to survive. Unable to get any kind of formal education, Sergei was home schooled, at least when his parents had the time to do so and when he was old enough he became an apprentice to a local butcher where he was able to make little currency to help support himself and his family.

It was in his early teenage years that life really took a turn for the worst, due to high tensions within Moscow a small uprising gave way and a lot of angry people stupidly tried to march on the Kremlin and unfortunately his parents were among them. Suffice to say that they died that day which in any case was better than being put in facility for the rest of their lives. After their deaths Sergei no longer had anyone in his life, being what his parents had done he was scorned as if he had been their himself and even worse he was often abused by the local law enforcement. It is safe to say that these years were if anything the worst for him and at the same time the most emotionally damning.

It was in his early adulthood that he attempted to change his fortune, he attempted to join the Russian Armed Forces. Wanting to prove he was not like his foolish parents and wanting to make a name for himself, he was however rejected because his parents indiscretions hanged over his head still. Try as he may, Sergei was a cursed man and no one would have him, no money, no home, not ever a friend. It was fortunate for him when he was approached by a ranking member in the SRV two years later. In not so many words the man who truly has no name told Sergei that because of his parents ignorance he would forever be an enemy to mother Russia. That was merely the reality he faced, but if so chose he could choose to disappear and become someone who worked within the shadows. Knowing his future was set in stone at that point, Sergei accepted the offer and thus began a career in Intelligence.

Much of what transpired between Sergei's 20th year of life to his 40th year of life is highly unknown. For all anyone who cared, he had literally disappeared from the world, not that anyone was blinking an eye over it. When his name did eventually resurface it was followed by enemy of the Federation. It is unclear what transpired to make Sergei a traitor, no one ever knew the full truth, and when he disappeared completely and could not be found it would remain a mystery. Around the time people began to forget the brief commotion Sergei appeared once more but in a small town in America. He opened up a butchers shop and catered happily to the local residents. An it was up until the war began that he happily enjoyed a new life far from the country that had tortured him most his life.

They often say that happiness is a fleeting thing and is not truly meant to last, this was the case for Sergei and many people on that fateful day when the world went to utter hell. May 16th would forever hold a burning point in his memory. When that day had started it was like any other since his defection so many years ago. But the very moment the clock stroked 11:00 am, the life he knew, was over. Although he tries hard to forget that day, that moment in time, his mind refuses to let those images go from his conscious. All the things he had seen in this world up until that point could not prepare him for what later on he came to know as the Infernal, attacked his small town and all but obliterated the many friends he had made there. 

He should have died that day, he knows that more than he has known anything else in his entire life. Maybe it was the training from his previous life, maybe it was luck, maybe... just maybe God decided that it was not his time just yet. But he escaped from that living hell, but not without scars both mental and physical thrust upon him by the spawn of pure hell. The memories of knowing that he couldn't save anyone even though he tried, they all died and he became the bearer of their memories. He did not give up that day or the many days since, if was due to stubbornness or anger or even that he could not bare to take his own life, it is unknown. 

All that he truly knows is he heard the words of the so called Prophets, he knows what must be done. If it is true or not, the only thing he had to hold onto now is the belief that if they could win this war than everything could go back to the way it was. While he never wanted to go back to old way of life, he has resigned himself to the fact that he must do so if only to try and find the peace he loved so much.[/color]

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[color=ff8333]Like any true Russian, Sergei holds a very high amount of pride, this is something that can lead to both strength and clarity of mind and a never ending stubbornness that any older man might have. At his very core he is good man, a generous man, someone who is both kind to those who deserve it and a nightmare to those who would hurt others. In his heart he wants nothing more than a solitary life, one where he can be free to live in happiness in his own way, but at the same time he is often haunted by his past and who he once was. Sergei is an older man and like many older man he is quite wise and tend look at things in a far less serious way than the young. He has a certain way about him, a certain persona that makes people feel easy around him and just a calming energy. He is wise beyond his years and knows what to say when the time is right.[/color]

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[list][*] [b]Wise:[/b] Sergei is very wise and a very smart man, given his past life he was often forced to think on his feet and solve problems that could mean life or death. This way of life has made him quite a thinker. You could say it was this wisdom that got him out of that small town when the Infernal destroyed it.

[*] [b]Combat:[/b] You wouldn't think it looking at the man and how kind he is but Sergei is a trained combatant, his specialty being in hand to hand techniques. If your not prepared for it he could put you in a rather nasty hold that would be hard to get out of or give you a rather well aimed shot to your body that would reek havoc on you in the long run.

[*] [b]Blades:[/b] Sergei is good with sharp edges, almost too good at it, being a butcher for a good amount of years, he knows how to cut meat with good proficiency if it be dead beef or an opponent. An he is also pretty good at twirling knives for the younger children who find joy in it, maybe evening juggling but than again nearly losing a thumb has dissuaded him from doing that again.

[*] [b]Age:[/b] They say a man who can't accept reality is often the fool who dies the quickest, Sergei is no fool so even he knows he is far from that strong man he used to be, decidedly so in some cases. If he wants to accept it or not his body has aged and with it comes the various pains one will get not only in general but from a life of action. It is this reason that he is not as fast or as precise as he once was, not like the younger generations.

[*] [b]Endurance:[/b] The mind is willing but the body isn't, a very cold sediment to a man who could once take so much damage. Life however often has other plans and in Sergei's case he can not keep going like he used to, he tires a lot faster than before and in a world where one needs to run this can be a dangerous weakness to have. While he is in pretty good shape for his age, he won't be able to run miles on end without a rest, and old injuries paining him even more so.

[*] [b]Stubborn:[/b] An old man who isn't stubborn would indeed be a miracle, but Sergei is not that miracle and it can sometimes put him in danger. When your full of pride, and you care way too much, and your too stubborn to accept certain things it can lead to mayhem. Sergei hates death, he does not fear it but he does hate it and this leads him to try to and stop it when it comes for someone else. He is far too stubborn to be talked down from doing something he believes is right.[/list][/color]

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[color=ff8333]A weapon in which he brought with him when he defected to the U.S. years ago it is an effective Russian based sub machine gun that's has a lot of similarities to the AK-47. It is smaller a bit more compact and uses the common 9×19mm Parabellum round. With a higher fire rate and an auto to semi auto function it is a versatile weapon for the right user. Its clip is capable of holding thirty rounds and there is a flashlight attached near the barrel for dark area's.

[b]Current Ammo Count:[/b] 2 Full clips plus one half clip in the chamber (75 Rounds)[/color]
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[hider=MR-412 REX]
[img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/38/MP_412.jpg/300px-MP_412.jpg[/img]

[color=ff8333]Another gun he brought with him during his defection the MR-412 is an double / single action shot variant of the more commonly known magnum. With a break action chamber and auto eject function this weapon was a special for those who could use it correctly. Chambered for the 357. magnum round with a six barrel capacity, it is a fairly strong weapon and moderately powerful.

[b]Current Ammo Count:[/b] 12 rounds plus 4 in the chamber (16 rounds)[/color]
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[hider=Japanese Slicer]
[img]http://www.japanese-knife-store.com/c-f/cs103f3.gif[/img]

[color=ff8333]About the only weapon that is not brought from Russia, this is a Japanese slicing knife. In fact it is the very same knife he was using the day everything went to hell. Razor sharp and of a good length it can be quite lethal in a close quarters battle however it is still a kitchen knife so it does lack proper balance. In any event he can not bare to part with it, as it is the only piece of his previous life he has left.[/color]
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[hider=Leather Pack (Items)]
[img]http://www.mapleleather.com/backpacks/images/Lbpt2-rear.jpg[/img]

[color=ff8333]He carries around an old leather backpack that holds his assorted items albeit he does not carry much on himself as he tries to remain light for long distances of travel.

[list][*] 1x Bottle of 1950 Jewel of Russia (wrapped heavily to avoid breakage)
[*] 1x Knife sharpener
[*] 2x 750 mml water bottles
[*] 1x Large bag of homemade beef jerky (Teriyaki flavor)
[*] 1x Length of military strength cord[/list][/color]
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[color=ff8333]ff8333[/color]

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[hider=Theme Song]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyfCTZB6Nrk[/youtube]
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[color=ff8333]
[color=tan][b]"Do you think... that I will see my mom and dad again in heaven?"[/b][/color]

[color=ff8333]Sergei was silent as he sat upon the scorched asphalt his back pressed up against the crumbling brick of the building behind him. He was fighting back the tears welling in the corner of his eye's as a young girl lay in his arms. She was only fourteen, a young girl he had know since she was born, she was the prettiest, gentle thing he had ever known. She had her moms light blonde hair and her dads blue eye's and she was always the sweetest child. He found so much strength in her bright smile but now he could hardly look upon her. Her once platinum blonde hair was now drenched in blood, dried and caked, clinging to her forehead, her body was torn in many places, claw marks that gashed deep, her clothing torn to shreds in many places. He had tried... tried so hard to protect her from those things... that hell spawn. The pain from his own wounds barely seemed to register to him now.

Sergei his hand over her eye's to block her view from the streets around them, as he looked around there were bodies everywhere both old and young. Some were torn apart, others cut to shreds, some were even missing limbs, the massacre that had taken place here was unforgivable. The tears he had fought began to move down his cheeks as he looked upon her... finally after trying to avoid it. Her question played in his head, at that point he was unsure if God was even a real being anymore... and if he was than how could he allow such evil to do this? She was just a baby to him, she was so young and had everything ahead of and now at the end on a street of... horrors she was gonna die, right in his arms.

[b]"I do believe so my dear girl. I know they are up their right now waiting for you, because I know better than most just how much they love you."[/b]

Sergei just let the tears fall as her body was shuddering in his arms, he looked up at the sky, it was so filled with storm clouds... it was so dark... almost fitting.

[color=tan][b]"I am scared, I don't want to die..."[/b][/color]

Her words sounded weaker than before, he could feel the warm tears on the hand over her eye's as he grip on his shoulder tightened.

[b]"There is nothing to be scared dear girl, dieing is... almost like going to sleep and waking up in a whole new world. In fact your just starting a new life in a beautiful place. No more tears, no more pain, no more fear. I promise you that the next you open your eye's... there will no more worries and no more regrets."[/b]

Sergei's free hand tightened as he tried so hard to believe in his own words, he felt anger welling up inside of himself. What kind of monster could do something like this? What kind of beast could be so merciless?

[color=tan][b]"Will I... see you again Uncle Borodin?"[/b][/color]

Her grip slowly loosened as her breathing was becoming more ragged, she did not have much longer left now, he could feel her slipping away.

[b]"You will see me again my girl, I promise, although it maybe a little while, until my time here is done. But you go on ahead of me and find your mom and your dad, keep an out for me. I love you child, more than anything in this world."[/b]

[color=tan][b]"Ill... keep watching... than for... you. Don't be.. to long.. Love you... Uncle... Bor..."[/b][/color]

Her arm fell gently from his shoulder as her body tensed just one more time and than she lay completely still in his arms. Sergei clenched his fist as he tightened his eye's so hard that every muscle in his face hurt, he gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to scream violently. Sergei removed his hand from her eye's, her once vibrant blue's stared at him, they were faded now and lifeless. He swallowed hard as he place a hand over her eye's and closed them. Slowly and painfully he stood up with her in his arms, he began his way up the road. Things almost seemed to blur over the next many hours, time almost seemed to spin out of control before it finally slowed down as Sergei was standing in front of a three fresh graves, a crude wooden cross lay before each of them. He stood there and stared at it as the night was starting to set and the sun was fading under the horizon. 

[b]"My dear friend I am sorry... I could not keep my promise to keep her safe. I only hope... that you can forgive me.. you and your family were my salvation. You took in an old Russian immigrant with such a troubled past and made him your brother. You made him the godfather of your daughter and in all my life there was no greater honor.[/b]

Sergei bent down to his knee before one of the graves, removing a knife from within his jacket pocket he lay it over his outstretched hand.

[b]"I don't know if there is anything I can do to right what has happened.. I am just an old man now. But I promise you on my blood that I will NOT let this go unpunished! I swear it on my own life that I will fight for you, your daughter and your wife until my dieing breath, this I swear."[/b]

Sergei cut his own hand with the knife, he squeezed his hand as the blood trickled out and onto the dirt over the fresh grave. He put his hand to his mouth and closed his eye's nodding his head before finally getting up and walking away from the graves, this would be his last go around even if it meant he was breaking his oath to never be that man again. It was only the beginning but he would see the end or die fighting for it.[/color]



[i] ~They say the measure of a man is determined by the life in which they live. When I look back upon my life, it is hard to see beyond the injustices that influenced my life. I was born into nothing, I had nothing and I could not long for anything for it was but a dream. My parents were killed, and the manner in which they died... it made me so mad that I even cursed their names, the same people or rather the only people that ever loved me. My fate was tied to theirs and my life was turned to a bitter pain, an cursed existence. Even when I rose above it all and made a name for myself, there was no escaping the past I had come from. They say the older we get the more clarity we seem to obtain and things that seemed to clear cut suddenly become fogged by doubt. You exchange your absolute certainty for the ability to see the truth beyond the perception that was pushed upon you... and for the first time you see the world with your own eye's instead of another.

I find myself thinking of the meaning of that saying now that my life might come to the grand final moments before leaving this world for another. It is a most wondrous thing how when one faces the oldest concept of time, when one faces their own mortality. You start to think about all the things you otherwise never would, you start to question if your life amounted to everything you made believe it did. In the face of the war we now face in these times, even I a man who has never looked backed regardless of circumstance is now trying to find resolve within himself for all the years he believed in a lie. Trying to make himself believe that the people whom mattered the most are proud of him, trying to leave this life knowing that it made a difference before the very end.

Heh... its almost funny to me how much those things I didn't think I cared about are now conflicting me at every step. But I am not ready to die just yet, no matter how much I seek to resolve the moral dilemmas deep down. It has never been in me to just give up and die, to go without a single word or fist on the contrary. I am an old man, that is the truth, but I am not so old that I can not still fight just one more time. I am not so old that I can not make a difference just one more time, that I can not try to win this war and find the peace I once knew. People say I am stubborn... its probably true because as I look out upon this war torn hell, I have never felt more will to live, felt more resolve for my existence nor felt more confidence welling up inside of me than I do now. There is a fire burning in my belly for the first time in many years, and anger deep down. My story is not done, not by a long shot, and if and when the time comes for this story to end... I vow I will make it such an end, that is worthy of remembrance. After all I still have my pride after all, and that's more than enough for now. ~[/i]

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