No matter how many battles I've been in and won
No matter how many kunoichi are on my nuts
No matter how many other ninja I eat up
Ooh ooh, it's never enough, Guest!
Name: Dark Man X | Dakuman
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Village: Kumogakure no Sato
Rank: Genin
Title:
Clan: Mikiri
Bloodline: Dark Release
Element(s): Raiton | Meiton
Skill(s):
- Ninjutsu
- Fuinjutsu
- Ijutsu
Stats
- Strength: D
- Constitution: D
- Stamina: C
- Speed: D
- Coordination: D
- Intelligence: C
- Perception: D
Unique Abilities:
Ravenous Hunger Due to his lineage as a Mikiri, Dakuman seems to possess an innate hunger for chakra which manifests itself into his techniques. At the cost of his physical Strength and Constitution ( -1 tier each), Dakuman is capable of using Dark Release techniques to drain internal chakra reserves through contact with his techniques. This means that if Dakuman were to use a melee range technique and make contact with an opponent, he is capable of draining chakra directly from the opponent, either directly from their chakra pool, or cancelling an active technique that they are currently using.
Appearance: At first glance, one would not expect Dakuman to be anything more than a civilian. Black hair spills down in a shaggy style, framing a pair of strange eyes, one of gold and one of silver, which seem to glow due to him being noted to have particularly vibrant and potent chakra. He avoids the traditional shinobi garb in favor of civilian clothes. All the better to blend into a crowd of people. He favors plain clothing, ones with no markings of sorts. On a typical day, Dakuman can be found wearing a plain white shirt under a brown hoodie with a zipper that's stained in blood. His lower half is clothed in red pants, and comfortable black shoes. Beneath his clothes, Dakuman's whole body is covered in bandages which are used to hide his burned skin.
However, when embarking on a mission, Dakuman favors a simple hooded black robe as his dressing of choice, along with a particular bleached white mask. This mask is in actuality the skull of a deceased horned creature. The mask is fashioned in such a way that it completely conceals the wearer's face, save for the eyes, provided that the user has some sort of hood; the horns of the creature are threaded through holes in the top of the hood to keep it raised and secured. Beneath the robe Dakuman wears his normal clothing, all the more to make a quick escape and blend into the crowd.
History: A Kumogakure ninja team was sent out into the desert on a mission 15 years ago. It started out as a simple reconnaissance mission, but upon the discovery of a raided weapons transport, a plot hatched by roaming nomads and desert bandits was uncovered to attack the village, sack the government and kill the Kazekage. The team should have immediately reported their findings but instead decided to try ending this plot themselves.
The attempt ended in disaster. The team's Sensei was decapitated. 2 of the team members, both males, were horribly disfigured, tortured, then left alive so that crows and other desert scavengers could feed upon their carcasses, ensuring a long, slow, painful death. The 3rd team member, a young Kunoichi with mediocre kenjutsu skills, did well in defending herself but she was soon overwhelmed. She was captured and forced to watch the deaths of her Sensei and team mates. Kept for 3 years within their desert hideout, she was used as a plaything by the males who lead the band of desert bandits.
The Kunoichi endured unthinkable conditions and situations for 3 years. One night she finally mustered up the strength and courage to escape, before poisoning and slitting the throats of her abusers while they slept. She returned home to the relieved embraces of her family and love interest, but the Kunoichi was forever changed. Once happy and smiling with a bubbly and energetic personality, she was now cold and withdrawn, never showing any emotion besides anger and rage. Home life was no longer exactly a joyous occasion, as she'd become very difficult to live with. The relationship between her and her love interest became very highly strained. Upon the realization that she was pregnant, she attempted to abort the child many times. She even attempted to take her own life, but this attempt was prevented by her love interest.
The child was born 9 months later, a boy, in a process that nearly killed the Kunoichi. Abnormalities in the child were noticed immediately. The baby's muscle structure was far more advanced than that of a normal child, noting that one day he may rise to the rank of taijutsu master. This was noticed by Village Black Ops. After ascertaining that the Kunoichi had been impregnated by one from a clan once long forgotten, once renowned for its kekkei genkai skills, and that the child was a perfect mixture of it and the kunoichi's own, a sample of the child's blood was taken to be studied in secret underground labs, and plans were made to watch the child for further progression as he grew up.
The former Kunoichi showed her child little to no attention, unable to look upon him with any sort of love or motherly affection, for when she did, all she saw were the faces of her captors, and reminded of 3 years of captivity and abuse. She didn't even give the boy a name. Eventually, the boy began to grow. He began to exhibit signs of a high intelligence, advanced strength, and an unnatural knack for taijutsu. The Kunoichi took the boy to her parent's house one day, and simply disappeared soon after with no word, never to be heard from again.
The boy's grandparents were elderly and in no condition to raise the boy. He began to question why he didn't have a regular family like the rest of the kids in the village his age, but his questions were met with vague answers. Academy days were filled with torment from other kids and abuse from bullies. One of the bullies boldly told him the story, told to him by his parents, of how the team his mother was once part of “fucked up” their mission, and how his mother was turned into the “train for all of the bandits to ride on,” thus the reason for his existence, the “rape baby of some dirty bandit.” The boy was so angered that he punched the other child with such force that his jaw was broken and his skull fractured. He survived, but from that day on, the “rape baby” became an outcast, save for a single other child, a boy named Midori.
Things suddenly began to make sense for the first time in a long time; the unloving ways of his mother, his grandparents vague and shallow answers to his many questions, the stares and whispers of many villagers. His attitude and demeanor began to change into that of his mother's uncaring coldness. Those that tried to befriend him were met with what could only be described as a wall; a door slammed into their face. When his grandparents died, first his grandfather, only to be followed by his grandmother 2 years later, he showed very little remorse. After graduating from the academy with very high scores, he disregarded the normal ways of Shinobi and took to the streets, now homeless, having to resort to stealing to survive. It was then that he began to first feel... alive, so to speak. The rush he got from stealing was enough to bring a grin to the child's stoic face. He began to steal more and more, eventually being caught several times and serving several stints in the juvenile detention center, and when he turned 14, the regular jail, as he was old enough to be charged as an adult.
It was while doing time that the boy found his affinity for controlling and manipulating flames, and here that he committed his first murder. His cellmate, a much larger and muscular individual doing time for rape and murder, was determined to make the boy his personal slave, or “Bitch” as he called it. Prisoners were given jobs in a mine beneath the facility mining iron, gold, and other materials. The boy yelled at the male, his emotions surging and unlocking his hidden potential; the force of his yell was amplified by his chakra and set ablaze, all but ashing the man. Altogether different from stealing, the killing was something else that brought a wicked grin to his face. The feeling of removing the life from a person, and watching the life leave their eyes, this was something he relished in. This man was never found. There was never a full investigation, and the boy was never implicated in the crime. Other prisoners who were witness to this murder, who were questioned by officials and all said nothing, thanked the boy for killing the man, for he'd tormented and taken advantage of them for many years. They took to calling the boy Dakuman, or Dark Man. Having never had a name of his own, the name they'd gifted to him stuck.
After three years, he was released from captivity, with an appetite for murder. Dakuman would never be the type to just kill an innocent person for his own satisfaction, so he decided to take the lives of those who he figured deserved it: bandits, nomads, wandering vagabonds. No one would miss them, and as most of the scum out in the wastes had bounties on their heads, there would be no punishment. Having taken to carrying around a large, strange weapon, for the next year Dakuman began to wander the wastes, murdering bandits and collecting bounties. He took many jobs to kill or apprehend dangerous criminals, but he left none alive, always returning with their heads as proof of his work. His success earned him much Ryo, and he took to sleeping in random hotel rooms and inns, never staying in one place for very long. He continued with the development of his skills, not knowing that he was on the skill level of most average adults at only the age of , but knew there was much more to learn. Dakuman, attempting to be a somewhat “regular” ninja of the village, began to realize that the world was much larger than this village, and aspired to travel, growing restless of the endless mountains, forests, and the eyes of those who knew the true story of his origin…
Personality:
"That's the problem: he's a brilliant lunatic, and you can never tell which way he'll jump, like his game is impossible to analyze. You can't dissect him, predict him...which of course means he's not a lunatic at all."
A voracious hunger manifested into human form; Dakuman is best classified as a monster in human skin. He is an unstoppable force, an Unspeakable Horror unleashed upon the world that serves no one but his own desires, whatever they may be at the moment. Dakuman operates purely on instinct most of the time, giving into his baser desires. At any given moment, Dakuman is given to turn himself over to his anger, unleashing a terrifying beast upon the world; one that knows no limitations of kindness and compassion for his fellow man.
Those who attempt to look beyond this will find that Dakuman is a strangely complex creature. He seems to believe that all of life is a grand arena, and only those worthy of the hunt are allowed to live. Dakuman himself seeks to prove himself as an apex predator, worthy of hunting the greatest prey of all, Mankind. Everyday is a new chase, a new chance to cause pain to the populace.
Cold. Calculating. At least, that is the vibe that Dakuman seems to give off. He often refuses to speak, causing him to become a practitioner of 'actions speak louder than words'. To him, every action is the truest intention of the human mind. The actions of the world can be reduced to simple black and white to Dakuman, if one were to think rationally about it. Actions define who we are, and what we've done. Words hold no weight, talk is cheap. And given that Dakuman often refuses to speak; he holds no value to words. For those whom he trusts, however, Dakuman trusts their words completely, bordering on blind loyalty. That isn't to say that will not refuse to believe evidence that points out the contrary...
He tends to think a situation through before acting, taking time to factor in several different approaches and scenarios, even going as far as to formulate plans for unknown factors. This allows for Dakuman to become able to adapt to most situations in a matter of seconds, shifting plans and strategies mid-combat. Dakuman prides himself on this; something he believes that the average shinobi needs to expand upon. He would offer to show them how, but... he does not believe them to be worth the time or effort.
Roleplay Sample: He needed a little bit more. Just a little more money, and he would be able to leave this place, and move on to somewhere else. Just the idea of traveling to a place where the heat was not oppressive was lifting his spirits a tad bit. But right now, there was still the obstacle of not having quiet enough money to make his dreams become a reality. Perhaps a quick trip to the mission board would fix this up, solve his money problems and he could go about his merry way after telling Sunagakure no Sato to kiss his fine tuned ass.
As the male would come to the mission board, he took note of the small crowd gathering around the office window. There were concerned yelling and crying, and the mission clerk seemed distraught. From this distance, he could hear snippets of conversations.
"Yes, Jadestone! Its the third time this week alone!" "Tis a shame. No one's been dispatched to deal with this yet." "I hope Old Man Sutaka is okay. He's been living in Jadestone for three years."
What was going on? Pushing his way to the front of the crowd, Dakuman would take a look upon the mission postings himself. Up near the top, there was an emergency announcement; it would seem that mission that was upon the board previously as D rank had been elevated to C rank. It was a mission requiring someone to go to Jadestone Village and keep watch for a few days against some bandits; Dakuman had seen this mission here previously when he was looking for something to take; he'd ended up taking the bouncer mission instead at the time. At the time, he had no weapons, and needed money in order to purchase some. With the recent purchase of his weapons that were being tailored to his specific customisations, he was simply left with the Kunai and Shuriken. Perhaps..
As the male continued to stare at and read the posting, he could not help but smile. From it the looks of it, Jadestone had been attacked several more times in the few days since the posting had gone up. Each attack ended with several villagers being killed, and the village's provisions being stolen from them. The villagers were defenseless -- their guards and lookouts were killed in the first wave of the attack. The posting stated that a group was needed to go out to Jadestone and stand guard until a proper sized security and or patrol force could be sent in to maintain order. If these guys were killing people in Jadestone, then there was really no repercussions to them being killed. He could feel that itch coming on, that drive to kill that he seemed to possess. His bloodthirsty side was trying to emerge, and it would seem that his closest outlet that would not get him in trouble with the law would be for him to take it out on these bandits. It was an itch that needed to be scratched -- and he was about to satisfy it in a fashion that would seem orgasmic; striding forward, he would snatch the posting from the board. Several onlookers stared at him in mild shock -- were was his group? His squad? The whispers did not deter him; let them talk. The fact that none of them would even attempt to take the mission themselves rendered their squabbling as nothing to him. Dakuman would take the posting over to the mission counter and present it alongside his R.I.P.
"Dakuman X. I'll be taking this mission, and departing within the hour."
The clerk would give the male a strange look, almost questioning his sanity. He would peer around, noting that no one was standing nearby as if waiting. Finally, after a minute he would look down at Dakuman, an eyebrow raising. "Where's the rest of your squad? This mission calls for a group of at least three."
"I have no squad. I will be doing this solo dolo; other people get in the way."
The clerk blinked. What the frick is solo dolo? Was that some sort of slang? His head would tip to the left, a loud sniff filling the air. "The mission requires a grou-"
"LISTEN!" Dakuman slammed his hands on the counter, causing the clerk to jump, along with several other people in line around him. He would lean closer, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. Despite the volume of his voice, the threat was very clear; each word was hissed through bared teeth as Dakuman spoke. "I do not give a flying frick duck how many people the posting says should be sent. I'm taking the mission, and you're going to fucking sign off on it. We clear, son!?" The clerk would nod rapidly, fumbling around as he attempted to find his stamp so that he could sign off on the posting. Once the paperwork was stamped and signed, Dakuman would offer the clerk a smile as he folded and tucked the paperwork away into a pocket before leaving the room. "Good boy." He would pay no attention the murmurs going on around him; a lion did not concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep. If all they were gonna do was stand around and just gawk, then frick em. He had other things to do that day, and bigger fish to fry.
