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Sergei Kaelle

Who was dragged down by the stone?

0 · 449 views · located in Anywhere but the Lab

a character in “The Outside”, as played by SyringeofHell


~Name: Sergei Johannes Kaelle. Aliases Sascha Richter, Volker Drasche.
~Age: 38 or so.
~Gender: Male

~Mutation: Sergei can turn into a rank little creature his creator called a 'small'. It looks like no animal found on earth, stinks, and can open its powerful jaws wide open like a thylacine's. His teeth are long and sharp, and he also has long, sharp claws on the end of long extra-joined fingers.
- He can smell really well like this.
- He can also do 'illusions', but only mild ones pertaining to himself. He normally makes it look like his eye is still there.

~Weaknesses: Sergei's general lack of health is his largest weakness. He's skinny and so tires out very fast if he's too physically active. Understandably, the arm with the rotting skin (his right) is weaker and it hurts badly from time to time. If he's not careful, it'll get infected and therefore he'll end up feverish, possibly with blood poisoning and even worse necrosis. He's incredibly arrogant, and tends to trust far too much in his own abilities - rather than fighting, he'll enjoy scaring people, which leaves him open to be led on, in a way.

~Description: Sergei is only 5'7" and slim. He has blond hair and blue eyes, pale skin, sunken in eyes, and is very handsome in an older man way. He actually has an eye missing, as he tried to rape someone who was carrying a knife. It leaks black stuff which isn't exactly blood sometimes, so he hides that as best he can with illusions. As a 'small', he looks like any other of the disgusting beasts - he has hair (although it is lank and thin in this form), and a beady black eye. A lot of the time he keeps his teeth bared, and his tail is kinked in placed from being broken, thanks to doors. His monster form has a long tongue which he uses to scoop marrow from bones. His body odour is disgusting. He showers regularly, so it's not sweat or anything like that - rather it can be linked to the rotting flesh of his arm, the clinical stink of the drug he's addicted to, and the ever-present linger of cigarette smoke. He's not the most interesting dresser - he pretty much always wears button down shirts (black or white wow so creative), designer jeans (rich bastard) tucked into his tall boots. Over this, he wears a fur-lined leather greatcoat to keep his skinny, poorly body warm. As a monster, this doesn't change, although he might shed the coat so he can dart around faster. At his hip he has a dirk and a Beretta 93R machine pistol. He's a smoker and as such can normally be found with a cigarette in his mouth.

Monster Sergei by a friend.
As a human, with a haircut and eyepatch by the same friend!
By another friend!

The inside of his arm looks like this (WARNING: Not for the faint of heart! Shows a living man's arm rotten down to the bone with rancid bits of flesh hanging off - yum :I ) ... 415040.jpg

~Personality: Sergei is superficially kind. He does enjoy being nice to people, but only for his own ends and means. He can be generous without reasons behind it, however. He seems to have trouble empathising, and links everything back to himself. If he upsets someone, he might feel sorry for it, but will ruin it all by saying, "Well, it wouldn't bother me". His ego is the size of the Sun, and needs to be constantly fed as such. He adores people telling him how wonderful he is, and if other people won't do it, he'll tell everyone else instead. He's also very arrogant, and can apparently create drama out of nothing. He takes a lot personally, and although most of the time he will sneer and laugh it off, other things will make him flip out. Mainly people close to him doing things without his permission.

Despite this, he is actually a very intelligent and logically minded man when it comes to planning, and does learn to care for people pretty easily. He enjoys making friends, and it's probably good to have him on your side. People get along with him easily, as he's very charming and good at sweet talking people. He's a secret control freak and deeply enjoys it when people do as they are told. He's paranoid of the intentions of others, which is why he loves demonstrating his dominance over others - so they don't have a chance to try and off him. He's not a good man, but he's not bad. Just highly selfish and hard to get along with.

He likes many things, most considered unsavoury by most folks. Foremost, Sergei is a drug addict. His poison of choice is called Neurospeed, and he takes it intravenously. His left arm is covered in trackmarks on the inside, and the inside of the elbow is getting eaten away at by neurospeed cut with other things. He also enjoys drinking - his favourite drink being whisky. Unashamedly, he loves the affections of good looking young men and women, partly because he's a nasty litle pervert, partly because it's a good ego trip for him. Sergei enjoys reading, particularly rubbishy thrillers, but is no good at writing. He can play the piano, and although he hasn't had much of a chance to play recently, he'd love to. His favourite genre of music is drone metal. Despite being somewhat unorthodox, he also enjoys the finer things in life and adores people doting on him hand and foot.

Most of all, Sergei detests rudeness. It really does upset him, and a lot of people have been bitten, clawed or had spiteful words spat at them because they didn't address him correctly or speak politely enough. He'll tolerate it from people he likes, but not strangers. He hates ugliness in all things, and has somewhat deluded himself into thinking his monster form is beautiful. He will not stand being around ugly people and will make a huge fuss. He doesn't like people who make a fuss about his true appearance or what he has to eat to remain healthy. He's surprisingly catty, and will often be left pertubed by people who are equally as passive aggressive and (to be frank) bitchy. He hates people asking lots of questions and going through his stuff, and will actually get incredibly worked up over this.

~Fears: Sergei hates the idea of belonging to anyone. It gives him the creeps. He's more of a free agent. He also hates people leaving him and being truly alone.

~History: Sergei was created by a freelance scientist who once worked at the Lab, but was presumed dead, a Greek-Czech called Orpheus Oprostan. Orphy wanted to create a guard for himself, but ended up with whatever the hell Sergei is instead. He raised the man somewhat as a guard, but his rather weak personality left him as a puppet of the strange thing, which used him for food, shelter and the rest.

One evening, sick of Sergei's bullshit, Orpheus tainted his food with a drug he invented called Neurospeed. The mutant soon became addicted and desperately shot up several times a day. As he ran out of the more expensive ingredients, it became cut, which was when Sergei's arm began to decompose and rot down to the bone. Something about his other form must have saved it, because he can still move it despite the lack of muscle in patches. However, it's nothing compared to his left arm, which he can use normally.

Pretty soon, Sergei worked out how to create the chemical and found less need for Orpheus to be around. The messed-up situation ended with a bullet to the poor young man's head and devoured remains. Sergei left with all of Orphy's money and has been since working as a mercenary of sorts. He's painfully aware that he's odd, but attributes the fault to the rest of society rather than to himself.

So begins...

Sergei Kaelle's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Camelion Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Daren O'Conner Character Portrait: Ash Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky Character Portrait: Matt Character Portrait: Maya Ramsey Character Portrait: Emvee and Fang
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The coloured signs made the childrens' ward exceedingly easy to find, and Jarek grinned. Still unseen, he slipped through the double doors after a nurse swept through, the thick smell of antiseptic, hospital food and illness filling his nose. So... two brothers, one older than the other. It didn't take him too long to track both boys down. Still invisible, he crept into their room and watched the two children. There was no pull of his heartstrings or twinge of sympathy as he searched the supply cupboards - luckily left open in the ruckus - at the end of the room. Although Jarek wasn't a user and never had been, he had a broad knowledge of drugs. The man smiled a thin-lipped smile to find a drawer full of shots of various sedatives. Enough to knock an adult man out for definite! That'd work well for these two boys.

Two syringes seemed to disappear as he picked them up. Tapping the bubbles out carefully, he headed over to inject the older boy in the neck. His hands were cool and a little calloused as he found the correct place to inject. He prepared the needle and went to quickly plunge it into the boy's neck, hopefully before he woke up.


In a less crowded ward of the hospital, a slim man sat up on a bed, attended to by a nurse who washed and cleaned his inner arm. He peered, curious, as she removed thick, stinking gloop from the deep wound, tutting as she did so. The man's fingers twitched sporadically as she accidentally prodded an exposed tendon a few times whilst a soothing lotion was rubbed in. He was glad she'd asked no questions. The drug he took that did this to his arm hadn't been made illegal yet, but he was pretty sure the government wouldn't like to hear of it. He watched the white bandages wrap around his poor, destroyed inner elbow and sighed.

"Thank you very much, nurse. Sorry you had to look after my nasty, nearly-rotten arm, hah," he said with a charismatic smile.

The nurse raised her eyebrows and made a zipping motion over her lips. She'd been bribed significantly by the strange little man, and although everything told her that she should tell, that man was too sweet to her (not to mention all that money he had given her. That helped). She helped him down from the bed and waved him off. With a sweet smile over his shoulder, Sergei headed towards the exit. His rotting arm hurt terribly, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain. He put the hand in his pocket carefully as he strode down the sterile corridors, boots click-click-clicking.

Slipping through a door, he saw a... what could only be described by Sergei as a situation going on. An old fellow had fired a gun at a girl with a missing arm, people all around, people grabbing other people, people arguing... Curious, he watched them, wondering what was happening. He head gunfire from down a corridor. This was strange, very strange. Something governmental? Sergei wasn't fond of the government after they'd tried to grab him and execute him a few times in the past. Folding his arms, he stood and watched the strange little situation unfold.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Ash Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky Character Portrait: Matt
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Sergei was certainly curious now. Maybe be could free one of these children and strike a deal with it? Above all else, Sergei was a deal maker. Although certainly capable of doing things for himself, he preferred to see others work for him. He wasn't lazy, per say; rather entitled, privileged, arrogant, but not lazy. It was harder for him to do certain things. To eat, he had to lure people. Posing as a prostitue or an injured person sometimes worked. It was much easier for a child to frantically grab the hand of an adult and beg them to come help this poor hurt man. Or for them to carry their 'new baby brother' off to their 'cousin' who would later rip it limb from limb with animalistic teeth or throw it into a wall and slam it into floors the same way a cat would play with food.

So he sat down in one of the plastic orange chairs and had a think. There was the girl... a boy was carrying her and she seemed unable to move and in pain. He could probably help her get out. Things were always a bit easier when you had a smooth-talking, shapeshifting creature with immense jaw strength on your side. And in return, she'd find him a nice meal or he'd shred her. As stealthily as he could in his human form, he followed the pair, hunger gnawing his stomach.


Jarek quickly nodded and turned invisible again, laying the two boys down and massaging his strained arms. With a wince, he turned into his reptilian form and picked both boys up, carrying them out. As he was told, he put them both in the van, a visible human now; it was hard to do car doors with long claws, after all. He was starting to ache and whined bestially, unsure of what to do now. He supposed he'd better find his teammate and help him out at some point. The man grumbled and rolled his eyes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Camelion Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky
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Jarek was invisible, in his lizard form, under the van. Presumably to bite anyone that came close, although who knew? He was a strange man who did strange things. Hearing Camelion, he turned visible, poking his reptilian snout out and flicking his tongue. Something smelt disgusting and it wasn't any of the children or Camelion. The stench of rotting flesh was making him feel sick to the core and he snorted, turning human and wriggling out to stand and look around. There was a small, blond man heading out of the hospital; someone he didn't recognise.

"That man's suspicious and he smells bad," he said, staring at him fixedly and growling. "I can also see he has a dagger sheathed at his hip and a gun holstered at his thigh and isn't hiding them well under that coat of his. He smells like he's rotting."

The man just beamed at Jarek and trotted over, dipping his head to both men.

"Evening, gentlemen," he said chirpily. "There's a lot going on here! I saw a... situation in that hospital. Are you part of that?"

He did indeed smell awful - there was an overwhelming reek of necrotic flesh highlighted by hints of cigarette smoke and something clinical and astringent. Jarek sneezed and shook his head, bothered by it even in human form.

"Gesundheit!" the man said absentmindedly, trying to peer in the vans.

He was indeed small and slight, huddled down in a rabbit-fur lined leather greatcoat, like something an explorer or soldier might wear. His features were interesting, handsome despite that stink and his obviously underfed form. Blue eyes glinting, he offered the two men a grin.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Camelion Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky
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"Stop calling me rookie - I'm pretty sure I'm older than you," Jarek said calmly before turning his attentions back to the smaller man.

Sergei gave Camelion a saccharine smile when he called him a fool and continued scrabbling to stare at the younger mutants. He was hungry and they all looked weak and pathetic. Maybe rather than breaking a deal with one, he could simply snatch one and make a run for it. Dragging a body along was difficult, though, and he sighed. Another plan, then. He could always eat the skinny tall one with the blond hair, although it didn't look like there'd be much to him. Still plotting away, he flinched when grabbed by Camelion.

"Oh, manhandling me, are we? Why don't you screw me up against your precious van?" he purred with a perverted grin before snorting and tearing himself from the man's grasp. "As if I'd let common muck like you anywhere near me; I'm far too good for the likes of whatever you two are. You're drawing lots of attention to yourselves, you know."

He darted away from Jarek when he tried to grab at him and turned into a disgusting little creature. Its huge jaws opened in a rictus and it cheeped a bit, cheerfully, although it was clearly a warning for the other two to stay back.

"Grab me again and I'll crush your hands."

((I'll reply with Vas later when I come up with something more substantial than 'ow'.))

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Camelion Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky
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Sergei just laughed, still a monster. It was high-pitched and chattering on one level, bubbling from his maw. On the other, it was a sneering chuckle. It was hard to tell where the human voice came from, but it was somewhere in his vicinity in any case. He went back to softly chirping like a little sparrow, tilting his head.

"Bless, it thinks it's tough. I don't have a girl. I could always make you my bitch, though. You just carry on jacking off to the thought of me eviscerating you, badass," he snorted, turning human again and smiling condescendingly. "On a lighter note, I'll leave you two boys alone. I was only curious and you had to grab at me. I was considering offering to work for your boss, but I'm sure you'll be fine without me."

He grinned and trotted off, feeling somewhat happy he'd managed to argue with someone. From days of not eating, Sergei was feeling grouchy and irritable, and it was good to get that out. He remembered the other men in the building. Maybe they'd be more compliant. Surprisingly enough, he could be cordial at times. Maybe not easy to work with, but certainly an alright man. Just some temporary work for food and he'd be fine. He headed over to where there were people who were very obvious guards in disguise waiting, looking for their leader.

Meanwhile, Jarek tried not to laugh at the strange man. He'd never had a situation like that, and had no idea what the creature was meant to be. It was disgusting and smelly but didn't look all too dangerous. He rolled his eyes at being called 'rookie' again, but significantly settled down when he saw Caine charging along. He whined hopelessly when he saw Camelion open the other van door, but got in. When Gabriel Kowalski was angry, Jarek'd keep close to him, like a pet, normally in his creature form. It felt weird not to be close when Caine was mad or upset.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyra Character Portrait: Camelion Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky Character Portrait: Vasily Aleksandrov Finch and Stefan Finch Character Portrait: Michael Tykwer
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Jarek peered out of the window of the van he was in, whining constantly and lowly, wanting to be near Caine. He didn't like the look of this sudden swarn of police officers and kept a close eye on them. It seemed, however, that his master had some kind of plan, so he relaxed a little. Envy bubbled inside of him when he realised that Camelion was closer to Caine and possibly more useful to him. With a keening noise, he ran his fingers through his hair and slumped in his seat, shooting at glare at the two unconscious boys. Maybe he should have stayed at the Lab, after all. He never liked his second owner, but he missed Kowalski. He'd pined hopelessly for months after he'd died even when he should have been working efficiently. Truth be told, he still missed Gabriel Kowalski and mourned the loss of his master. The man had taught him to read and write, speak properly, let him study and become intelligent, trained him in torture... everything. And he'd died in a carcrash when Jarek was 21. He blamed himself, even though his rational side knew there was no way to prevent a carcrash.

But right now, he felt wretchedly lonely and inadequate. It wasn't a feeling the man was used to. He was letting his mind rush ahead of him. Truthfully, it was strange for him to experience any strong emotions at all. He might have seemed gleeful at times, but what counted as ecstatic for him was simple happiness for another. It wasn't something he could help, as such, just a symptom of sociopathy. Despite his sociopathic human mind, the strange servile urges of his bestial mind added another depth to his emotions. Although he did not feel sympathy (and was completely unable to empathise), he was able to be loyal and certainly understood fealty. He was sure it was his mutant side that was forcing these feelings of defectiveness upon him. He'd just have to work hard and offer himself up for other jobs, maybe translation. He'd bet that Camelion wouldn't be able to speak Polish, Russian, Arabic, French and Urdu. In his free time, Jarek sat with his nose in language books, mainly. He'd spent time speaking to the foreign mutants and workers at the Lab as well, and it'd paid off. He was only fluent in three (including English), but he realised it was a useful skill which was often in demand.


A sudden pain swept through the man's head and his eyes flicked open. The intense flare that spread through his arm when he tried to move it was unbearable and he gritted his teeth and let out a moan of pain. Carefully looking over (even his eyes hurt), he saw bright white bone piercing flesh and felt sick to the pit of his stomach. And the girl was leant over him. The damn girl.

"You," he hissed. "You ruined my fucking arm as well as everything else?"

His eyes were bloodshot, skin pallid and greying. He attempted to sit, but let out another hopeless groan. His head throbbed relentlessly and he swore in his mother tongue. He prayed he hadn't fractured his skull.

"Why haven't you called a goddamn ambulance, you idiot? Here, use my phone."

With his good hand he groped around in his jacket pocket for his mobile phone, hand shaking as he turned it on. Thank fuck it wasn't broken. His head swam as he peered at the keypad and he tossed the phone towards Kyra. Trying to relax once more, he sighed and closed his eyes. He supposed, however, that he ought to ask after the girl's condition.

"You aren't hurt, are you?"


Sergei sighed as the commanding guard rushed past with no regard for him. The short man glowered and folded his arms, sniffing haughtily. He'd make his own way to wherever they were going, and if their employers didn't want him, he'd have to sort something else instead. Turning tail, he strode off with a determined and yet somewhat wounded air. The carpark was swarming with people now and he sighed irritably. However, the copper scent of blood filled his sensitive nose and he sniffed appreciatively, turning to find the source. A young man. Now this was interesting... his eye was mechanical. He'd seen some things like this before, but not staggering around, lost. One of his creator's workmates had augmentations and bio-mechanics, but he was nothing like this.

He headed over to the young man, stomach growling hungrily.

"You'll get in trouble walking around here looking like that," he said softly, standing behind him. "I can help you out if you do me a favour, though, I'm hungry."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Michael Tykwer
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. . . Quick turn left. Duck down and weave around legs of distracted officier. Stand, walk towards doors with expedience, walk to left of law enforcment turning right. . . . Michael's mind raced as he made his way through the policemen. He strode within inches of some of them and nobody was the wiser. Michael was almost at the hospital doors when a small alert went of in his head. The small-radius sonar in his eye had told him that there was infact someone behind him and walking with intent towards the frail cyborg.

"You'll get in trouble walking around here looking like that," The man chuckled as he approached. Michael whirled, aiming the makeshift spear towards the man that had spotted him though the brass rod didn't seem particularly threatening His eye's lens dilated wide then small and darted this way and that but still focused squarely at Sergei's face as if in curiosity. His other eye was looking to the side at some cops that seemed to be talking to some EMT's. It's eyelid flickered a little as if tired and woozy and judging by how the boy was swaying a little, it would be a safe bet that he was quite blood deprived given the hole in his arm was still spilling some. It was astonishing he was even still awake, but then again he was part machine and they never tired.

"I could help you out," The man said. Michael's head dipped a little but shot up again as he nearly passed out. He couldn't fall asleep, not here.

"if you do me a favor, though, I'm hungry." The man said with a slight smirk. The man desired a meal? Then why could he not go into the hospital and acquire one? Was he not allowed inside? How could he help Michael? A hundred questions tumbled through his mind all at once, and so Michael started to spit them out all at once.

"What is your name? Why are you here? Why do you need assistance? How can you assist me? Why do you seek to assist me? How did you see me despite my evasion? Are you medically trained? I will stab you if you come closer. What do you want to eat? Square root ofnine hundred and twelve point zero four is thirty point two. Is your arm operational despite it's decay? I need medical treatment. I've been poisoned." He yammered the words off his tongue extraordinarily fast, his sentences almost blending with each other. He twitched his head a little and blinked both of his eyes out of sync when the random facts entered his mind. He waited there with the flimsy spear hovering at Sergei still before speaking.

"Answer and my inclination to grant your favor: noun: something done or granted out of goodwill,rather than from justice or for remuneration will rise." By this point he had completely forgotten that he had stopped moving and cops could see him just fine now. Nor did it occur that his aiming a long sharp rod at someone could be considered hostile to an outside viewer. His bionic arm hummed a little as he stumbled backwards a bit but kept the spear clutched and aimed at the odd favor-asking individual.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sergei Kaelle Character Portrait: Jarek Kazimir Kamienzky Character Portrait: Vasily Aleksandrov Finch and Stefan Finch
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-Vasiliy and Stef-

Fortunately, passers by spotted the sniper's battered, bloodied body and thought to call an ambulance. The man was taken to hospital, fortunately where his tall, ginger brother was waiting for the inspector to finish looking over his driving license. Stef was ecstatic to see his brother. Vasiliy? Not so. He told the poor man to piss off to his face, which the rather unintelligent Stef attributed to general grouchiness that happened after having one's arm broken.


Bored, hungry, Sergei headed off, still in his human form. His sensitive nose lead him to the rich smell of blood, but by the time he arrived the victim was gone, the stench stale, the only trace dried blood being powerhosed off of the pavement by a man in a streetcleaner. It'd likely be a while before anyone saw him again. With all the money he'd made and the money he'd taken from the corpses of his victims, he had enough to survive very comfily for quite a while.


Unfortunately, Jarek had seemed to come down with some nasty strain of virus. For humans, it was mild. For a lizard-human creature? Not so. The poor man suffered like a pure human would suffer from scarlet fever. Bedridden for ages, struggling to live.