Nature:      Conniver   Demeanor:      Bon Vivant   Willpower:


Clan:   Ravnos   Generation:   10   Blood Pool:   13


Strength:   2    Charisma:   2    Perception:   4
Dexterity:   3    Manipulation:   3    Intelligence:   2
Stamina:   3    Appearance   3    Wits:   4


Alertness:   2 Animal Ken:   0 Academics:   1
Athletics:   2 Crafts:   0 Computer:   0
Brawl:   2 Drive:   3   Finance:   0
Dodge:   1 Etiquette:   0   Investigation:   1
Empathy:   3 Firearms:   3 Law:   0
Expression:   0 Melee:   1 Linguistics:   1
Intimidation:   0   Performance:   3 Medicine:   0
Leadership:   0   Security:   3 Occult:   2
Streetwise:   3 Stealth:   2 Politics:   0
Subterfuge:   3 Survival:   1 Science:   2



Auspex:   2   Chimerstry:   3   Fortitude:   2


Generation:   3   Contacts:   1   Resources:   3
Status: 3 Influence: 3 Fame: 1


Conscience:   3   Self-Control:   4   Courage:   3
      Humanity:   7    




Merits   Flaws

Status = Among Anarchs
Influence = Underworld
Fame = She's known to the underworld as a reliable, very well-known dealer of hard drugs, mostly cocaine and designer drugs
Resources = Due to Drug Sales
Crime of Choice: Drugs

Perception: Attentive
Wits: Sharp-Tongued

Dark red hair falls to her shoulders, and she has a dusky skin tone that suggests mixed heritage. She's attractive enough...and her outfit, a mix of biker gear and revealing slutty chic, does nothing to hide that attractiveness. Over it lies a leather jacket. The woman looks to be young, maybe 17, 18 years of age, with mischeviously sparkling amber eyes, a narrow face, and deep red lips twisted into a grin. Her form is thin and lithe, with just a hint of curve to it in the proper places, and carries itself with a cocky sort of confidence. This woman, whoever she may be, knows who she is and what she wants, and is damn sure going to get it, come hell or high water...assuming she doesn't already have it, and you just don't know it yet.  ((Fame 1 on the street; Status 3 among the Anarchs.))

Street Sweeper Shotgun (Range 20, Rate 2/3B, Conc T, Clip 20, Damage 8)
2 AMT Automages (Range 35, Rate 3, Conc J, Clip 7, Damage 6)

Harley Davidson Motorcycle
Biking Clothes
Variety of other clothes
The Nevermore (Well, it was Ravyn's Club, but she's coming back with plans to take it back for him)
Cell Phone
Various Drugs and Paraphenalia

The girl who would become Shiva, a name among the drug networks of the United States and a leiutenant of one of the more effective leaders of the Anarchs, was born among a much simpler world. Born Sidi Petrescu, in a Rroma camp just outside of Bacau, Romani, the girl was a bright, precocious girl, and usually full of mischief. Her family, a large, proud gypsy clan, fostered this attitude in her, and Sidi grew up loved and happy.

Sadly, Sidi also had the unfortunate circumstance of being born in 1927. When she was thirteen years old, King Carol II abdicated the Romanian throne, and the country joined Nazi Germany, Italy, Hungary and Bulgaria as part of the Axis powers of World War II. Because Romania participated in the invasion of the Soviet Union, the country recovered Bessarabia and northern Bukovina under the leadership of general Ion Antonescu. During the Second World War, the Antonescu regime, allied with Nazi Germany, played a significant role in the Holocaust, following its policy of oppression and massacre of the Jews and Rroma. Sidi's camp was among the first of those picked up by the regime, and Sidi found herself shipped off to Auschwitz-Birkenau, separated from a family she would never see again.

Sidi has never talked to anyone, to anyone's knowledge, about her time in Auschwitz. Presumably, Ravyn knows what she went through in there, but no one else has ever dared broach the subject with her. What could be known if anyone looked it up, by record, is that there was a young girl, numbered 214567 on her left arm, registered as "Sidi Bacau." The girl worked in the forced labor camps for three years before becoming the personal attendants of one of the leiutenants, replacing a woman who had failed in some minor duties and was sent to the gas chambers.

In January 1945, the death camp was shut down by the victorious Allied forces. When the liberators freed the camp, Sidi was not among the captives. No one looked for one cared. Sidi Bacau was dead. And, in fact, she was.

Just not...DEAD dead.

One of the greatest secrets of the Ravnos clan, one of their darkest moments short of the death of Ravnos himself in 1999, was the fact that the clan fed off Death Camp prisoners during the war. Sidi nearly became one of these casualties, killed by a Ravnos by the name of Tshurka, but the man saw the anger in her...the defiance and the absolute need to live and take vengeance upon those who hurt her and her people. He embraced her, taking her away from the camp, and taught her the history and the ways of the clan. And he taught her how she could strike back at the bastards who destroyed her. He renamed her Shiva, the destroyer, from the old clan beliefs...and she became quite the destroyer, indeed.

Shiva travelled with Tshurka for three years. She loved her sire, but he was...not an easy man. His disdain for the Rroma, already obvious by the fact that he fed off concentration camp prisoners, was pronounced, and he and Shiva quarrelled often over it...usually ending up with the girl beaten to a pulp. She grew quickly tired of her sire, and looked to get rid of her. That was when Ravyn came.

Ravyn was a gajo...a non-Rroma. Embraced within the clan in his native country of England, he was part of the other side of the clan...the side the Rroma Ravnos hated and despised. Shiva didn't care. When she and Tshurka ran into him outside of Berlin in 1948, she noticed three things. First, Ravyn had more respect--FAR more respect--for the Rom then her sire, who WAS Rom. Second, Ravyn was more powerful, and a better man...a better Ravnos then Tshurka would ever be. And third...Tshurka HATED Ravyn. The seeds of a plan were planted, and it didn't take Shiva long to act on it. Tshurka was very easy to incite, and he flew at Ravyn one night, in the bloodlust of frenzy. He didn't last to the dawn.

As her sire's ashes settled on the ground, Shiva watched as the elder Ravnos looked calmly her way.

"That wasn't necessary, you know," he said, watching her with a calm, even expression. "You could have just asked me to take him away."

She blinked at his calm, casual statement of knowing her plan.

"How long have you known?"

"Since the first night you thought of it," he said with a faint smile. "I was just wondering how long it would take you to do it. Well done, by the way."

She smiled a bit at the praise, and nodded. She'd found a new mentor, and an unlife-long friend. The two took up traveling together, and never looked back.

((More to be added))