Sept 16, 2023 6:18:50 GMT
Rui Matsui and Chiharu like this
Post by harukor on Sept 16, 2023 6:18:50 GMT
Credits to @rx for the template
Harukor
OVERVIEW
» NAME: Harukor Satporopet
» Harukor means 'one who has food', his earned name referencing his love of cooking. Satoporopet references the city he grew up by.» ALIAS: Wenkamuy of Hokkaido, Kor (Chiharu)
» GENDER: Male
» AGE: 35
» SEXUALITY: Plotsexual
» BIRTHDATE: 1st May, 2065
» BIRTHPLACE: Hokkaido, Japan
» NATIONALITY: Japanese
» ETHNICITY: Ainu
» LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Itak (native), Japanese (fluent), Russian (fluent), English (intermediate)
» BLOOD TYPE: B
» RELATIONS: Chiharu Satporopet (Daughter)
» ZODIAC SIGN: Taurus
» THEME: Autumn Fire
» AFFILIATION: Vigilantes / Japan Self-Defense Force
» Vigilantes (自警団ヴィジランテ Vijirante?) are people who voluntarily carry out duties usually done by Pro Heroes without paying attention to the law.» OCCUPATION: Mercenary / Hunter
"Travesty in the Far East! Hundreds of civilians and soldiers dead in a territory dispute!"» VIGILANTE NAME: Kim-un-kamuy
Guerillas in China sought Russia's territory, Russia thought otherwise. Russia called upon its ally, Japan, to fight their war. The immoral and illegal use of quirks in warfare brought death to hundreds, both civilian and soldier. The little that remained were titled heroes, but heroes of what, exactly? Harukor had no difficulty figuring it out.
» Kim-un-kamuy (キムンカムイ, lit. 'god of the mountains', also called Metotush Kamuy and Nuparikor Kamuy) is the Ainu kamuy (god) of bears and mountains.
PERSONALITY
"There's no discrimination on the battlefield."
» POSITIVE TRAITS:🐻 Kind | » NEGATIVE TRAITS:🐻 Easily jealous |
» LIKES:🐻 Cooking | » DISLIKES:🐻 Cities |
Harukor is an incredibly complex person, but on the surface, he seems just as normal as any other regular old guy.
Harukor is cheerful, friendly and fatherly at times, if not sometimes naïve and childish. He's quick to make friends with likeminded people should they not try and aggravate him too much, which hardly ends well for either parties, as he's a person of stubborn opinions— also known as the word impulsive. He was a subject of discrimination once, so he never takes kindly to being made fun of due to his culture, and the same goes for when being referred to others. The hunter does not hesitate to get into a fight, but struggles to remember that it is just a fight— not a battle to kill people in.
In some ways, it's like he never did die on the battlefield. He can still smile, joke, laugh, move, breathe, eat as any other person. In some ways, he's still who he was before he left Japan for Russia. Harukor knows he is living a lie, but does not let it plague his mind— doing that would mean becoming a true husk of a person as many of his comrades had also become. One could say he is driven on by an unseen force, a fury left undoused and bloodlust not quenched, a demon or wenkamuy (evil god) as he would call it only showing itself when he felt no need to hide behind a mask.
But when the mask comes off, the father figure to his adopted daughter goes away, and the demon that puppets the undead soldier rips and roars at its enemies till either he dies, or they do. The spirit guide within his soul does not discriminate on his choice of enemy, even if he does view it as a pure being only capable of love, it is just as capable of evil as he is. A soldier will kill for the sake of his country, just as a father would kill for the ones he loves. There is nothing to be lost when your soul still wanders the battlefield.
APPEARANCE
 | » HEIGHT: 6'3 (190 cm) » WEIGHT: 205 lbs (95kg) » EYE COLOR: Honey brown » SKIN COLOR: Tan » HAIR COLOR: Purplish-black » FACE CLAIM NAME: Sasuke Uchiha / OC (taiihun) » FACE CLAIM SERIES: Naruto the Last / original art (taiihun) |
"I might... just be the last one."
When humans arrived in Japan from the east, there were two main races of people; the Jomon and Yayoi. Then from the Jomon came the Ainu, and then came Harukor. Though only a special eye not belonging to a foreigner could tell of the slight difference in appearance from Harukor and the rest of the Japanese. With a looming heavyset stature of 6'3, a fine-line scar across his left eyelid to his jaw and across his nose and the purple under his eyes, it's easy to see that Harukor has seen his fair share of battles overseas. However, the most that stands out with him is the bandana, or matanpushi, that he always has tightly wrapped around his head above his eyes— a clear indication that he is a follower of some religion.
The likeliness of wearing clothes from his culture depends on the situation he's in. Hunting, he's wearing anything he's ever caught and skinned. In the city he has casual wear, but if not without a few traditional garments adorning his person, such as his makiri, a knife carved from whalebone. Though typically, anything he wears covers up the multitudes of scars littering his body from head to toe, each telling a very special, if not haunting, tale.
HISTORY
"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."
— In all my dreams before my helpless sight —
— He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. —
— He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. —
tw; graphic imagery/gore, death
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer,
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,–
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer,
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,–
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
My Father was a hopeful fan of this old poem. As a soldier deployed in the midst of the rise of meta-powers, or quirks, you could imagine fighting in a war was tantamount to fighting the evil that used those powers. Some people have fragile mindsets, and it doesn't take much for a simple superpower to make them think they're a divine being sent by God to revolutionise Japan by slaughtering dozens. He grew fed up with it, so after it was done he estranged his army, and came to his and my birthplace, Hokkaido, to raise me.
He was an Ainu. An Ainu diluted by Japanese blood over the years, sure, but still an Ainu to his core, a man incredibly in touch with his culture. I grew up in a town with likeminded people who held value for the practice of history, so I learned herbalism, survivalism, tracking, hunting— practically anything required of a huntsman from ancient times. But more importantly; my culture. Culture today is a thing that is valued in terms of tourism, and socialism. I never viewed it as such. Nobody likes being viewed as a living novelty item.
Hokkaido is a land of an endless winter, but it is home to incredible warmth. I grew to love cooking. The grandmothers loved the help in the kitchens. I hunted when permitted, and grew saddened when I'd crossed everything off my list. Maybe when I earned enough money, I could go to Russia or China, and hunt there too. But a week after my seventeenth birthday, my father gave me his hunting knife and a photo of my mother, and left the town to fight another battle he was enlisted in. I didn't see him again. He said mother abandoned us at birth. Perhaps she wanted to be spared the grief of his inevitable death.
As a youth with no income and status, and apparent with idiocy, I ignored my father's warnings and enlisted, having nowhere else to turn to. Who knew? Maybe I'd meet him again on the battlefield— in death, that was.
I trained for a couple years. I received my first and only warning for shattering a superior officer's jaw when he tried to take my matanpushi off. I learnt Russian. I received a reputation based on my impulsiveness for roughhousing with the other soldiers— whether good intentioned or not is up to interpretation. Tensions grew on China's border with Russia. The other soldiers learned to stop screwing with me. I finished my training. Chinese guerillas started a war with Russia. I was deployed.
I was selected to be a translator for Russian and Japanese soldiers. From what we, the division deployed to help its Russian allies, understood, guerillas from China insisted on sparking its age-old war with Russia once more, and stealing some of their territory. Being guerillas, they were illegal, and therefore used quirks in illegal warfare. Shit I didn't bother to understand. What did it matter when you were burdened with the knowledge that you had to kill people just the same as you? I only got to hunt one bear before I was on the front lines. At least my comrades thought it tasted good.
Squash the revolution. Try not to die, even if your enemy was using a quirk. I had killed animals before. What about humans was so different? Their screams. One, two, three, four. I stab one man through the heart with my father's hunting knife. I gouge another's eyes out. I shoot one man, and the bullet hits another behind him. Five, six, seven, eight. A single grenade makes bloody carnage and meat from a group of soldiers. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. It feels like a dream. Eventually, I stop counting, genuinely wondering if I had already died and was enduring an endless nightmare as due by my sins.
I am due to storm a construction alongside my comrades. Orders; leave the wounded, but kill any armed persons. I am already stained in blood, and their screams accentuate the art painted on my body. I have already died, and question what drives my undead body. Or perhaps, there was no drive to protect, but a drive to kill, born from a hunter's instinct?
The last body falls to the floor, my knife in their sternum, and I am no longer human. A single child watches me heave for oxygen, and the colour of her hair reflects the colour I am painted in. But there is no colour in her gaze as I kneel before her, asking her if she can stand. I ask her name, and she does not respond. She is conscious, but she does not see. I pick her up.
"What do you plan on doing with her?" A soldier asks as we leave.
"China won't want her." I reply. "I'm taking her back."
"Surely that's illegal?"
"It doesn't matter. She deserves a home." I look back at the red-painted walls of the building. "Hers isn't here."
When I return home with the child in tow, I am so inhuman that I have come full circle. My mania born from sin alludes me into who I was before the war, and whatever inhumane personality inside me is locked away when I see the child. She has seen humanity, a monster at its worse, but I realise that she cannot see that— when I arrive in my town and see the village elders and the running children, it’s like whatever was hollow inside her has had new life breathed into it. Perhaps, purely out of the safety of her sanity, she has chosen to forget me slaying her own parents.
It is likely for the best.
China had a strict policy with children. Those in poverty, even more strict. Those born from wartime, even more so. With the grandmothers needing a new child to fuss over and children to play with, Chiharu would fit in more than she ever would back in her home country. Whilst I am sure she was happy in the village, she shone ever more brightly so when I taught her the ways of the Ainu, and when we hunted in the snow stricken mountains, disappearing for weeks on end.
Chiharu has breathed life into her life, and so has she to mine. Whatever wenkamuy inside me that still stalks the battlefield searching for its next victim stays there whilst she is with me. Though I know, eventually she will believe me not to be her father, and the purity of her life will be lost when she looks into her roots. When that does happen, I hope she will understand that there is nothing more in the world that I love more than my little bear.
ITEMS
— carved necklace
— survival kit
Harukor tends to have a few survival items handy on him should he need them. Typically some matches, gauze, bandages, and rope. Anything else he has no problem making using nature's resources.
ATTRIBUTES
| » AWARENESS (C) | » VITALITY (C+) |
| » DURABILITY(D) | » SPEED (D-) |
| » DEXTERITY (C-) | » STRENGTH (C-) |
limit breakers available: 8 | 0/45 used
QUIRK
HASINAW-UK-KAMUY
D- | emitter
“The hunt is on.”
Hasinaw-uk-Kamuy, Goddess of the Hunt, or more simply referred to as the “Spirit Guide” is a ghost-like entity that guides enemies or allies to and fro to destinations.
emitter — the guide appears in many shapes and forms, typically as a bear, and always in the form of an animal. it can traverse landscapes as the chosen animal would, like fitting into small cracks in the form of a mouse, or flying around buildings as a bird.
» DRAWBACKS:
— the spirit guide cannot interact with anything physically. it cannot move objects or interact with them.
— the spirit guide cannot be harmed, but can dissipate through physical attacks. it will take time for the spirit guide to reenergise once destroyed, and will start from the user’s body rather than from where it was destroyed.
— the spirit guide can only take form of an animal the user has physically seen. the user can see a picture of a giraffe, but cannot manifest it if they have never seen it in real life.
— the spirit guide cannot stray too far from its host. if it goes beyond its allowed boundaries, it will be recalled.
EQUIPMENT
— makiri (D-)
The makiri is the Ainu's version of a tanto. According to Harukor's father, it is an heirloom passed down from the late 19th century. It is made of whalebone and scratched and stained with incredible use.
— bayonet knife (D-)
A large standard issue bayonet knife from Harukor's time in the army. It has also seen its fair share of use.
— recurve bow (D-)
A traditional recurve bow made by Harukor. It has no special qualities, apart from the carvings on its limbs.
— arrows (C-)
Harukor has a selection of arrows made by his own hand from the feathers of the birds he has hunted, as well as the fallen logs surrounding his property. the quality of arrow refers to its ranking.
— hunting arrow
these arrows have no specific quality. they pierce flesh as well as they would for a deer's.
— poison arrow
the arrowhead has been hollowed out and strength sacrificed for poison made from wolfsbane to be injected into the bloodstream. it is not fatal, but the target will suffer bouts of strength loss or wooziness.
— paralyzing arrow
the arrowhead has been hollowed out and strength sacrificed for a concoction made from hemlock to be injected into the bloodstream. it is not fatal, but the target will suffer lowered blood pressure, which can cause minor muscle paralysis.
— hunting arrow
these arrows have no specific quality. they pierce flesh as well as they would for a deer's.
— poison arrow
the arrowhead has been hollowed out and strength sacrificed for poison made from wolfsbane to be injected into the bloodstream. it is not fatal, but the target will suffer bouts of strength loss or wooziness.
— paralyzing arrow
the arrowhead has been hollowed out and strength sacrificed for a concoction made from hemlock to be injected into the bloodstream. it is not fatal, but the target will suffer lowered blood pressure, which can cause minor muscle paralysis.
SKILLS
DEADEYE
C+
Since Harukor returned home, he has developed an inherent dislike for guns. When he was in Russia, he spent most nights hunting men with his rifle rather than animals with his bow. Thus over his lifetime he has intended on honing his skills with the bow and arrow to perfection— he is able to accurately hit targets from a fair distance away, and also use his bow as an improvised melee weapon should an enemy come into close quarters.
played by taiihun
