Darahan X. Behruz

The Darahan that people meet now may be a gentle giant. But with the traits of two feuding tribes simmering together inside one man, there must be some kind of story to be told, right? Well, you wouldn't be wrong. Darahan does have a story to tell. But it is one that he does not enjoy telling. Regardless, it is important that you know the story of this bounty hunter. Like with all people, Darahan's story begins with a woman. A member of the Longarm tribe named Parvana.

Parvana grew up on Kenzan Island, like most members of her tribe. However, as she grew older and older, she found herself craving adventure more and more. But for years and years, her family refused to let her go. Eventually, they allowed her to leave, at the age of twenty two. The reason for this? Well, they had always given Parvana the same answer every time she asked for their permission to leave: "When you can hold your own against your father, then you can leave". Does that sound odd? Well, there was a reason for it. Parvana's father was a very well known fighter around their part of Kenzan Island, having once circled the entire island challenging other members of the tribe to boxing matches.

They thought that this would be enough of a deterrent to keep their daughter on the island, as she had always shown a heavy disdain for combat. Unfortunately, they were wrong. She came to challenge her father, and the pair fought to a standstill, leaving him to admit that they were at least equals. And so, Parvana left with the next group of Longarms that wished to explore the rest of the world.

From here, nobody seems to know what happened. All that anyone says is that five years later, on the exact day of her original departure, Parvana returned to Kenzan Island. However, when she returned, she was carrying a child. Parvana and her family were all overjoyed..until the child was born. The process of birthing Darahan was one that put his mother's life at extreme risk. But by some stroke of luck, she survived. But unfortunately, it was not long until things became clear about who the father was. At least, in terms of narrowing it down.

Not only was Darahan born with the signature double jointed arms of his tribe..but his legs were far longer than that of the other babies. It was eventually revealed that Darahan's mother had found common ground with a member of the feuding Longleg tribe. She was lucky to have not been kicked out and put to death. Instead, she was allowed to remain in the hospital with Darahan until she regained her health. Afterwards however, she was told that she and her child were not welcome back. Nor was she welcome at the home she grew up in.

Prejudice is an unfortunate fact of life. And perhaps most unfortunately for the two of them, it was something that ran deep in the members of the Longarm tribe. So, the pair found themselves hiding out in the woods, going from town to town, coasting for as long as they could off of the hospitality of others to just gather what food and coin they needed. Eventually though, people's hospitality ran out. There was one evening that will always stick with the man. He was nine at the time, living out of yet another temporary room. His mother entered the room, looking completely disheveled and holding a rather large fruit in her hands.

When he asked his mother what was going on, she shoved the fruit into his hands and told him to run. Run back to the woods. He tried to ask her more, but she just kept yelling at him. Eventually, he listened, and left the room through the window. And it was not a moment too soon, as he could hear the echoes of a fight breaking out. He ran, and ran. It felt like days that he ran. He ran as far into the woods as his legs would take him. Eventually, they wouldn't carry him any more. He found himself collapsing in the middle of the forest, his stomach empty and rumbling.

Luckily for him, he had that fruit that his mother had given him. It was a plum the size of his head. Not his favorite fruit..but anything would do. So he brought the thing up to his mouth, and bit into one of the swirls covering its surface. Almost immediately, he could tell something was wrong. Chewing this plum was like trying to eat the hay that padded the beds that they had always slept in, and the taste was quite similar. But for some reason, he wasn't able to spit it out. He wanted to. It tasted like he was eating poison. But he couldn't stop. Eventually, all that was left of the fruit was a pit.

With his stomach full, Darahan kept walking through the woods..and eventually started to realize that he was very itchy. A sensation that increased more and more as he walked, until he eventually heard the sound of straw moving as he went to scratch at his face. And when he looked down, what he saw freaked him out. His fingertips were nails, and his arm was covered in straw! In the coming days, he would come to learn how to force that particular ability away. But it would eventually come back to haunt him.

Darahan wandered the island for a few more years, using his increasingly intimidating stature to earn himself a bit more peace, eventually settling down in his mother's hometown, where he eventually found her grave. For a long time, he turned inward, using his powers more and more to create things to leave at her grave. This inner reflection betrayed a sign of weakness to the people around him. And one day, he was pulled out of the ramshackle home he had built for himself. He was only thirteen at the time, and already stood head and shoulders above even the tallest of the longarms.

In the coming year, he would find himself facing the worst that humanity had to offer. He was kept in a cage. Finding things routinely thrown at him, and being mocked for what he was. One day, he made the mistake of using his powers to shield himself, covering his entire body in straw. It dulled the incoming pain of the rocks that were thrown at him..at first. Then he found himself being pulled out of the cage, and chained to something. His arms and legs were kept stretched above him..and soon, he felt heat spread across his hands and feet. Then he smelled the smoke. His eyes widened as he realized what was going on.

They had lit his straw on fire. He hurriedly tried to dismiss it. But it was too late. Some spots had burned through, singing his skin. And while shedding the primary source of the problem was easy enough, it didn't save his skin from becoming splotchy in many places. After that, he was punished heavily any time he stepped out of line. His back now serves as a testament to all the times he stood up for his own safety, as it is lined with scars from being whipped.

Eventually though, the novelty of having what was essentially a caged freak lessened, and attention was leveled at him less and less. It got to the point where he was awoken one night by the sound of a rock thumping against his cage. To his surprise however, it wasn't being used to wake him up. Instead, he heard a snap. The door to his cage opened, and he was ushered out by some children. He was told to run once again. It turned out that a new group of curious longarms was planning a departure. Ones that had lived in Darahan's town. Even in places where prejudice runs the most deeply, there is still some light. Darahan left his home behind at the age of sixteen, and never looked back.

Over the course of a few months, Darahan and the crew of longarms that left the island that night spread themselves more and more, crossing the various blues and finding places that interested them. When Darahan himself left, there were only a handful of longarms left on the boat. The place that had caught his attention was Flevance. And it was easy to see why. The place was so idyllic when compared to his old home. Over the years, Darahan would find himself experiencing kindness for the first time in his life. People took him in without a second thought, giving him various types of work so that he could get up on his feet.

Eventually, he even met a man who taught him about the power he held, and the obligation he had to learn how to use it more efficiently. That man was a Marine, and held a power himself. Looking back now, it would be easy for Darahan to claim that his friend was trying to get him to follow his own path as they trained together. But at the end of the day, he would see no harm in it. He learned how to defend himself and use his power for the sake of..well. Keeping himself safe. Eventually though, odd jobs stopped being enough. For a time, Darahan was able to keep himself mostly secure in his life. He had gotten quite good at making Berries stretch, after all. Eventually though, life started seeming to head down the same path that it had taken as a child. He was going hungry more often than not..and he was getting desperate.

Eventually, he bumped into someone while on the streets. Not on purpose, of course. At eighteen, Darahan was a man who was standing at around ten feet tall. He took up a lot of space. So, he turned around to apologize..only to find a foot planting itself in his gut. Oh. Over the course of about five minutes, Darahan fought with his aggressor. Who was it? Well, if his abuse at the hands of Longarms weren't enough, this woman was from the Longleg tribe. She of course recognized him as being a longlimb, rather than a very lithely built giant. Luckily, Darahan was able to subdue her before the marines arrived.

They were both brought to the marine base. But where the longleg woman was thrown into a holding cell..Darahan was taken to a counter. There, it was explained that the woman he had subdued was a criminal. Small time in the big picture, of course. But a notorious criminal, nonetheless. Her bounty was rather large. 100,500,000. Nobody knew why. The crimes on her bounty poster were all fairly minor. But Darahan had brought her in. After a small commission being withheld by the marines, he was given the rest. That was when it became clear what he could do to support himself. He had trained with a marine. That was why he could hold his own against that woman.

He didn't enjoy fighting her. He never enjoyed fighting. But he could at least help people, if he needed to. And that was better than doing nothing. So, he took the 100,000,000 he had been given, and found himself a set of weapons that were conducive to how he could fight. The rest was spent on securing a place to live. For the past seven years, he has been consistently wandering the south blue, bringing in bounties where he can when people don't find their way to Flevance. His finds are all small time criminals. Nobody else so far has come anywhere near that longleg woman..but it has been enough to keep his modest lifestyle stable. And for him, that's really all that has mattered.