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Rassler Serden


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Full Name: Rassler Serden

Nickname: Razor

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Race: Coordinator (First generation)

Occupation: Mercanary

Birthplace: December City

Citizenship: December City



He stands strongly for justice, although when it comes to work, he'll only work for the right amount of pay. Sometimes seemingly cold and emotionless, deep down beneath the hatred he is sensitive and caring.


Preferring to live the life of a loner, he can accept it when he needs help, although this is one of his most biggest dislikes. He keeps a cool head in tough situations and is least likely to panic. He can be easily provoked at times, which has caused some trouble in his recent past.




height: 1.8 metres

Weight: 60 kg

Hair Colour and Style: Long, spiky and dark blond with black streaks running down his fringe and along the sides of his face.

eye Colour Hazel

Identifying Marks: A scar running across his face from the top of his right eyebrow to the left, bottom side of his nose.

Skin Tone: Mildly tanned

Build: Slightly muscular through working out a lot.

Clothing: He wears a black leather jacket with black matching jeans and black trainers. He also wears a white, plain Shirt underneath the jacket. Along the jacket sleeves and down the side of the jeans runs two white lines.

Handiness: Ambidextrous




Mother: Unknown

Father: Unknown

Siblings: None

Wife/Girlfriend: Clair - deceased


Personal History:


From the moment Rassler was born he was stranded by his parents. With no siblings to rely on, he soon found to fend for himself. Rassler soon became independent and hardworking by the young age of 6. He ran away from the orphanage which he felt contained him and proceeded to dwell on the streets.


By the time he was 12, he came to a firm understanding of politics and how the universe worked. He was particularly interested in mobile weapons. Sneaking books from the library on his odd weekend, he would examine all the various parts of the mobile suit and try to customize his own by drawing the model down on scraps of paper. He was taken in of the streets by a mercanary called Pagen. He taught him basic martial arts and techniques with melee weapons.


When he reached the age of 15 he had acquired his first gun, trusted to him by his dearest friend and his mentor. Trouble soon followed as Pagen's client turned on him, ordering him to be killed so no information could leak out onto the streets. Rassler followed him and his pursuers into an alley, where Pagen was shot and massacered before him. Paralyzed with shock and fear, he trembled as they approached him. Between then and when he met Clair everything was a dark blur. He remembered receiving the scar on his face. One of the murderers had sliced his blade across his face.


A year after the following events, he stumbled into Clair. She was also homeless and alone, but suffered from sever amnesia whereas Rassler only suffered from a minor cause. They talked and grew quickly on one another, making plans for the future and talking about them both moving somewhere neutral.


Things seemed to get better after Rassler took after Pagen's old work, but soon found himself in trouble again. Pagen's old murderers had located him and Clair. They lived in a small flat, just barely keeping enough money to keep the place. When Rassler returned home however, he found Clair lying motionless on the floor. Tears flooded his eyes and his vision turned a fiery red with anger. He clenched his fists so tight that he drew blood and it flew freely down his wrist. He stormed out of the flat and down the street, lighting up a cigarette on the way. This would be the night he would regret for the rest of his life.


As he drew near to the old, run down house his heart thudded with both fear and anticipation. He had followed the murderers to this place, and had well left the door unlocked. Losing all his loved ones, life was meaningless. He loaded his gun and stormed inside, firing aimlessly at the first targets in sight. His hands moved like clockwork, memories of Pagen training him where flooding back to him as he fired round after round into the dead body of the man behind all the killing. He felt satisfied, but also wrong. Like their was blood on him that he could never wash of. The feeling of grief soon was washed away as the sound of police sirens drummed through his ears. He sprinted through the house and across the small garden out the back. Keeping low in the alleys while moving fast was tiring and Rassler soon found himself panting. The cold night air pierced his lungs as he drew breath, but his training wouldn't allow him to rest here. He kept on moving in the darkness, listening out for police as he went by. Soon the police had given up chase for the night and he allowed himself to sleep in a small courtyard behind some empty flats.


Through the following months he kept a low profile, being careful who he accepted jobs from and not trusting anyone he came by.The bounty on his head wasn't that big, it died down to an average price as he didn't reveal himself to often. Rassler also changed his appearance from bright colored clothing to a darker, more menacing look. He also grew his hair long, and spiked it in a messy fashion so as to completely erase the person he was before. From that day on, he swore to himself that he would obtain power and defend those in need.

Edited by Guest
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Hmmm your profile is not bad, but I think you need to explain what happened after he killed the murderers.


In your history you explain that he charged in with guns blazing, that would have attracted attention by the law; I don't think he could have calmly walked out of there. Perhaps you could have a bounty on his head or something

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