Daktari

[Urjasz Volkova]

Daktari ;;
is now entering it's all in yer mind

About You;;
behind the RPer

Name:
Age:19
Years of Rping:
Contact:

ID Tag;;

Alias: ”Night Laughter”
Name: Daktari
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Real Age: 400
Physical Age: Mid-forties
Species: Were-Hyena
Sire: Pure Blood
Religious Affiliation: Athiest
Wealth: A saved wealth from times ago
Job: Scavenges what he can, starting from stretch, earning his living

Dear Diary;;

Specialties:
1. Transformation Mastered
2. Senses and Abilities Increased
3. Bone Sculpture
4. Increased Strength During Anger

Summary:
Daktari has had plenty of time to train himself up, and transformation was the first thing he focussed on. They are now less painful, almost routine to him. His size completely changes from his human physique, becoming a beast completely. The need for moonlight is no longer required for Daktari, for his years in the darkness allowed him time to keep trying until he perfected it. Eyesight, hearing and smell are powerful, and healing is rapid. Strength is excessive, but in beast form he can only move on all fours, so some of the overall strength is lost to become extra weight. However, during a state of uncontrollable anger, his strength exceeds all his abilities. A natural talent for Daktari is bone sculpture, the ability to change into the image of someone else. This ability is the reason he is to never be trusted, for he could always be around you and you wouldn’t even realise.

Weakness:
1. Pride
2. Mistletoe
3. Temper

Summary:
Daktari is number one and he won’t let anyone forget that. Often forgetting his place in the food chain, he’s ambitious beyond reason. If he wants something, he’ll take it, usually ignoring the possible consequences. The saying about the wise old men certainly doesn’t account for history’s dark horse. Wise enough to survive, but foolish enough to get caught for his actions time and time again. Because of his ferocious behaviour, his family created a way to keep him from attacking them. Mistletoe was used to keep him at bay should he get cocky, like fire to an animal. But unlike fire, the mistletoe can not kill him, but in his mind, it’s a barrier between him and the victim. Moments like this may set of his anger though, in which he goes into a blind rage, his strength increased but all control lost. In this state of mind, allies are not safe, for everyone within killing distance is fair game.

Human Appearance;;

Hair: Black
Eyes: Black
Height: 6’7
Marks: His eyes give him away, the iris of his eyes black like the pupils
Race: African European
Skin Tone: Dark
Body Type: Well built, toned
Clothing Style: Whatever he feels like
Footwear: Boots are a favourite

Summary:
A tall and strong build help keep Daktari’s fearsome image and his eyes put the fear of god into many men. However, his fearsome build would be seen as normal by immortals, who may be less shocked by his appearance than the humans would be. Sometimes wearing sunglasses to hide his eyes, he could easily pass for a bouncer. Style of clothing tends to vary, he goes with the flow of how he feels. A common style is black with a leather coat, but big heavy coats are a favourite too. Laid bare, his body is build for war, not too bulky to move at speed, but strong enough to do considerable damage.

Were Appearance;;

Eye Colour: Completely Black
Fur Colour: The fur's background colour is a cream to light brown, with irregular dark spots that fade with age. The muzzle is black. He has a long, heavily muscled neck, lined with a coarse mane of reversed fur.
Fur Length: Short length on most of body, but longer on the back
Fur Texture: Soft fur, leathery skin underneath
Size: During transformation he rarely stands on hind legs, on all fours he is 5’9 in height, 12’3 in length (And in height should he stand on hind, but he can not do so for long periods)
Marks: When transformed, bones protrude his lips as a secondary set of teeth, used primarily to grab the target

Personality;;

Likes:
1. Power
2. Fame
3. Glory

Dislikes:
1. Humans with knowledge of immortals/Hunters
2. His authority being challenged
3. Competition

Flaws:
1. Anger
2. Lack of Direction
3. Flashbacks

Summary:
Daktari is all about the power, and isn’t ashamed to admit it. However, unlike others who may just want the world to bow at their feet, Daktari is out to make a name for himself. Any form of fame is good fame in his eyes, and if someone recognises him on the street, he’s more inclined to like that person. If glory or infamy can be gained from killing someone, he will kill them. Innocent or guilty, a figure with enough fame of their own is fair game to him, another key to greater fame. Hunters may lack the glory he seeks, but he despises them. To him, it’s like the fly trying to kill the spider. Humans who have a knowledge of immortals annoy him too, for he believes anything not immortal that knows of them has no excuse not to bow down to them. If they can worship a god he does not believe in, then they can worship him too. When his authority is questioned, he’ll often go out of his way to prove why he got to where he is in the world. This also goes with competition, who are mere distraction of his own goals. Anger is his foremost flaw, unpredictable and uncontrollable when at full pelt. Just like his anger, his quest for fame lacks the direction it needs, so he tends to wing it as life happens before him. A result of this is flashbacks to the early mistakes of his life, a constant reminder of what he is.

Background Check;;

Family Members: Unknown to him, all deceased as far as he knows
Birth Place: Abuja, Nigeria
Childhood: Farming and trade, occasional clash with rival tribes
Transformation: For the first few years of his life his immortal side lay dormant, but during his early adulthood his anger unleashed the creature completely. Thought to be a curse by a witchdoctor, his family helped him through it all, unknown to them that it was a genetic fault.
Prey: Normal food, but a diet of meat is needed to keep up the transformations
Moon Tidings: He can change when he pleases, and can remain in beast form for unlimited time, but each transformation takes energy from him, which can only be replenished by feeding
Other Transformation: To turn another, they would need both the saliva of his bite and the blood that runs his veins
History:
Born in 1609, Daktari was born into the aftermath of a conflict that had only settled in the previous decade. The Bornu Empire now controlled Nigeria, which had been under the rule of the Songhai Empire. He lived in the area that would become Abuja, the current capital of Nigeria, but back then, it was just a place to live. Looking back on the past, Daktari finds it strange how when he was taken from his home, the fame and fortune he wanted so badly had come to him, only too late. However, he hadn’t always seeked the life of fame. He grew up in a farming family, part of a farming community. By this time the aftermath of the battle for power between the Bornu and Songhai was dying down, and the religion of the region, Islamic, remained part of their life. For his childhood and young adulthood, Daktari worked the farms with his family, growing what could be harvested and raising cattle. Education was basic, if nonexistent but life was good for him. The immortal side did not show itself until his later life, but he first saw violence when he was eight, after a local thief had his hand cut off for his crimes. Daktari was in a hut with the locals when the thief, out for revenge, murdered the man who had punished him. This first death phased Daktari, as did the beheading of the thief. The concept of death explained to him, with Islamic reasoning. At the time, he believed it.

At the age of 23, Daktari was one of the main farmers of the village, with strength that made his parents proud. By this time, he had many brothers and sisters, but no family of his own. Daktari was quiet and polite to all the others, and lacked confidence with women. From a young age he was called the dark horse of the village, his first taste of fame. It was this year, 1632, that his immortal side first showed itself. That year, during the summer nights, a travelling witchdoctor passed through the village. This man was a con artist, and despite the Islamic religion of the village, parts of the old tribal religions still fascinated them. Whilst performing an act of “magic”, the witchdoctor insulted Daktari’s mother, prompting him to beat the man to a pulp, the first act of violence he’d ever committed. The shocked villagers accepted his reason for the attack, but the cowardly witchdoctor ranted out a curse of how his anger would be the end of him.

With the witchdoctor gone, life resumed its path. However, a few weeks after the visit, Daktari fell ill, suffering from a severe fever. In reality, the beast inside was waking up, and its mind was merging with his. Because of his pure blood, the two minds bonded together quickly and he was well within days, a blessing from Allah his village claimed. The following week was the full moon of the month, and Daktari suffered his first transformation. He awoke the next day, tied down and cut all over. Around him, the whole village was armed and watching in fear. Fearing what he had done, he broke down in tears before them all and begged forgiveness. Fortunately for him, he had killed no one, only a few cattle. The village got together, and after deciding the witchdoctor had cursed him, declared he was to be looked after and trained to control it. Word was sent out for experts of transformations to help them. Three long years later, in which he spent every full moon tied down and guarded, help finally arrived.

This part of Daktari’s life is always hazy in his mind, for he was fed potions and drugs to subdue the beast for years to come, a mission to those who’d finally found a were creature. The introduction of Mistletoe was put forward by his family, so that should he loose control, they would have some form of backup plan. All the huts were lined with Mistletoe, protecting those inside. News of the beast had reached various organisations around the world, and offers of eternal riches should he join them flooded his lands. Refusing to join any wars, he was eventually left alone, and once his village felt safe enough, the help left and life continued. During the year of his 33rd, an English group arrived in the village, following the stories of a beast that lived there. The year was 1642, and unbeknown to Daktari, civil war in England was about to break loose. The men asked for his help, to rid the country of their king, Charles I. Politely, he refused and the men left. That night, whilst he slept, the men returned with more men, and butchered the village. Daktari was clubbed on the head whilst asleep, and his eyes burned. Whilst his village and family lay dead, Daktari fell into a coma.

The coma kept him alive; allowing his body to recover from the wounds, whilst nearby tradesmen discovered the village. When Daktari awake, he could barely see, his sight still mending itself. The iris of his eyes never recovered, remaining black to this day. The faces that lay around him were familiar, but it soon dawned on him that he could remember the names of those close to him, or that of his past. The beast inside had helped keep him alive, and seeing the same sight as Daktari, allowed him to take full control of his body, never suffering the moonlight transformations again. As Daktari wept for his family and village, the beast inside died, its soul finding itself in a better place, leaving its abilities within Daktari. Unable to remember his own name, Daktari had searched the village for a name, and it was only when he found a name scratched into the wall did he remember part of it.

That same night, the tradesmen had returned with warriors of nearby towns, believing that Daktari had killed his village during a transformation. It was no secret in the local area of what he was, and he was driven from the land by the warriors. Making his way north across Africa, he found his way to Europe by sea, arriving in Italy, and continuing onwards until he reached France, there he heard the news of the civil war in England, and that those who’d killed his family were Parliamentarians. It had taken Daktari two years to travel to England, but he reached it during its peak of war. The quiet Daktari had died with his family; here he spent no time wasted on anything but hunting down those who’d killed those he loved. Daktari lost his faith as he travelled the country, seeing what religion could do to people. Neither religion could explain what he was either, other than a monster. As Daktari dispatched of the murderers, those in higher positions learned of his arrival, and with the victory at the Battle of Naseby in 1645, power was given to them. For them, Daktari’s time would come to an end.

In the eve of the New Year, Daktari was captured and believing that they couldn’t kill him, he was imprisoned in an underwater cave west of London. Guarded constantly, he remained there until 1660, when Charles II took the throne, released with others imprisoned by Parliament. During his imprisonment, Daktari transformed at his own accord within the cave, and even learnt how to sculpture his own body to look like those around him, every twist and reshaping of his body in his control now that the beast inside had left. Fed the basics, Daktari often tried to escape the cave, but at most, he could kill a guard or two before being subdued. In 1649 the secret of the Mistletoe was told to the guards by one of the murderers, now rich and powerful. All the exits from the cave where lined with it, and it was removed once he was extracted, claiming to the Royalists who released him they’d used it in torture on him. In reality, the claim of mental instability wasn’t completely false, for the solitude of the cave and the brutal behaviour of the guards turned the sweet, grieving son of a murdered family into a dark sinister man. He no longer had revenge flowing through his veins, just a quest of sorts to be something.

Daktari travelled to Europe, where he first encountered other immortals, but even he was unique to them. Taken into a brotherhood of immortals, he was given a new purpose in his life. The group were mercenaries, taking any jobs that come their way. For several decades, Daktari followed them without question, killing those who they were paid to kill. He enjoyed it, but there was always something nagging at the back of his head, missing the fame that should come with the killings. They were never allowed to be caught, so the secrecy drove him mad. In 1693, this was to change. During a job in the town of Benais, Daktari accidently killed a child who was with the mark, in a killing spree in beast form. Guilt wrapped itself around him, and the Brotherhood allowed this, for they could see the guilt in his eyes. They left the area, but a few weeks later, the news of the death reached them in Paris, the hunt for the beast which took the child’s life. When he heard the news, he could not help but smile. Leaving the Brotherhood, claiming the guilt too much, he set off for Benais. For four years, he tore apart the locals, aiming for women and children, for more fame, but the odd man taken down too. In 1693, a group of hunters, who had spent two years tracking him, caught him and captured him, wounding him so bad he was unable to flee.

It was a déjà vu for Daktari, for they locked him up in a tower until 1763. Daktari was lucky not to meet the blade, for they wished to just kill him, but he told them should his human side die, the beast would take over completely and it could not be defeated if there was no human side inside, the only mortal side of him. The solitude drove him mad, but not as mad as being denied the fame he craved for. He was not released though, for he waited for the moment to arise. As a new prisoner was added to the tower, Daktari tore through the wall, weakened by years of abuse, and fled into the night. For a year, he tried to live a normal life, to see if he could even do it. His sanity returned slowly, but the blur between reality and madness was a mixed one. In 1764, he was in the area of South France when the urge to kill was at its peak. Even after the six decades kept from killing, he had managed a year without death, his humanity clinging on. In June of 1764, he began his attacks on the people of Gévaudan. It was here he got the fame he craved so much. In June of 1767, he killed his last victim, an unidentified girl. By now, the King had been involved, hunts carried out to catch him and a region put in poverty out of fear of being caught out working, to be torn to shreds. It was not the hunters who caught Daktari, but the Brotherhood, who had recognised the methods of attacks. They believed his earlier imprisonment had made him this way, and felt he should continue to be locked up. He was then placed in a new cave, this time guarded by the immortals. There was no escape, even though he tried constantly.

In 1813, his key to freedom was given to him. In Vivarais, an immortal was copying his killings in Gévaudan and Benais, and it was down to Daktari to stop it. The immortal had gone uncaught for four years, his reign of terror beginning in 1809. However, compared to Daktari’s body count of hundreds, had only killed around 21 people in the space of four years. It was clearly the work of an amateur, but the prospect of more fame swayed Daktari into accepting. Daktari’s arrival in Vivarais was watched by the immortals, who had also joined the hunt. Using a vampire child as bait, Daktari set his trap. As he expected, the beast came. It was no surprise to him, a simple werewolf, and a fledging if anything. As the child was devoured, Daktari quietly changed into his beast form and stalked closer. Just as the beast was about to leave, Daktari sprung from the shadows and with his powerful jaws, tore a limb from the beast. The beast changed back to a man, dying slowly, his blood pouring from his body. Changing back as well, Daktari threw questions at the man, no older than 20. Between coughs of blood, the man spoke of a following of his work, of how there are those that admire him. His heart torn, Daktari simply replied ”Then consider yourself honoured to fall at my hand”, before ending the man’s life.

His freedom granted, his was exiled from Europe for 100 years. Setting sail for America, he had no intention of never returning, but rumours of a following here intrigued him. Travelling around the country, he searched for those who follow him. The doubts of the truth in the man’s words began to take its toll, perhaps a means of torture to Daktari. It was 1834, as he went to return home that he found them, in New York of all places. In the shadows of the streets an organisation called “The Future” had used him as the perfect creature to be. Instantly, he had laughed at the name and concept, saying how he had spent most of his life in darkness, locked away from the world. He changed the name of the group to “Origins”, stating that the future would come and change life, but where they came from will never change. Whilst he was there, he had many clashes with white people, who considered him a slave. One such man was Sir Hedrick Carmine, a wealthy man who owned many slave labour farms. Daktari was the goal of his life, but he never knew of his beast within. In 1851, as Hedrick grew older and “Origins” had grown bigger, the greed of one member within took over him. Johnny Greene, a half-breed vampire, betrayed Daktari for work with Hedrick, shooting Daktari whilst he slept and others around him. Weakened by shots to the face, Daktari was taken to a labour camp. However, once he regained consciousness, he tore apart the men who governed the camp and the workers as well; who had thought their freedom was being granted. Before he could return to kill Johnny, he was captured by rebel Origin members, who had mixed reasons for hating him. Some hated his brutality, others felt he was no good for the organisation, others wanting his power.
As they prepared to execute Daktari, Hedrick betrayed Johnny, pushing him out into the daylight, closing the door behind him. As he burned to death, Hedrick told the rebels he would take over the organisation, mixing his wealth with it to become an indestructible world power. Realising their mistake, the rebels killed Hedrick and released Daktari, who had been shot repeatedly during the capture. They returned him to the Origins base, a house in the back lands of New York, later the base of the Gorchakov Family. Thought to be on his death bed, Daktari asked for a few loyal members to see him, none of the rebels invited in. One member came out and told all the rebels that Daktari needed to forgive them all before he passed away. As they all entered, the door behind was locked, the bed before them empty. Blood covered the walls, body parts lay scattered around them. The loyal members had been torn to shreds, a sacrifice to Daktari. Looking back at the door, they saw through the window the member change into Daktari, who smiled and pointed to the floor. Spread across it was oil, and as they stared in horror, Daktari sparked the oil at the door, the flames travelling under the door and spreading across the room, burning the screaming traitors alive.

The wealth taken from Hedrick’s business did indeed help Origins grow, and soon they were a powerful immoral business. Once slavery was abolished in 1865, there were hardly any limits. News of a potential rival in Russia reached them, but Daktari was not worried. However, curiosity got the better of him, and he travelled to Europe to investigate in 1878. There could not be a firm more famous than his, it simply would not do. As he travelled through France, he was captured by The Brotherhood, who reminded him of his 100 year exile. For returning, he was locked up in his earlier cell for eternity, never to see the light of day again. In 1888, his guards teased him with the fact an Englishman under the name of “Jack the Ripper” was getting more fame with just five murders than Daktari ever got with his mass murders and serial killings. Enraged, he had beaten the wall of cell until his hands were bloody messes. For over a century he was kept in that cell, the world around him changed as he remained the same.

In 2009, his 400th year on the planet, he was released on condition of working for his bailer. That man was Zakhar Gorchakov, a vampire in the Gorchakov family empire, empowered with taking America. During Daktari’s absence, Origins had become weak and members making poor decisions. It had crumbled during the depression, with members seeking better work elsewhere. Gorchakov had taken all that remained of them, their base, their homes, their businesses. Only their wealth left untouched, hidden for the day Daktari would escape, even though it would never come. Now, Daktari travels the world, killing those he pleases and those given to him by Zakhar. Within the empire, he is his own legend. And he is happy with that.

Code Word:
do the mashed potatoe, do the twiste

Mad Skills;;

[Example of your Role-Playing]