Name: Berthold, "Donkey"
Age: 32
Bounty: none
Species: Donkey (human)
Occupation: Pack animal
Allegiance: How does “surviving side“ sound? Though he would die if only it protects his partner. Aaah, loyalty is beautiful.
Home Village/Ocean: North Blue
Appearance: As Berthold prefers being a donkey over being a human, maybe he's the only one who knows what his human form presently looks like. Him and Althea, most likely. For being a donkey, he takes good care of himself. It could be because of spending so much time in his donkey form, but in human form, his hair is still just as grey. He doesn't keep it short, but it doesn't seem to grow. His explanation for this is that, as long as he's in donkey form, his human body is put on stop. Might be. Well, either way, his hair's short. He permanently has a calm, bored, and sometimes (when put into situations he wouldn't have to deal with as a donkey) slightly nervous look on his face. Around his dark brown eyes and mouth, first wrinkles are appearing. He generally looks older than he is. He says it's because of him being a donkey all the time that his energy is leaving him faster. He kind of says things about his donkey form often. Contradicting things, even...
When he's an animal, he is, of course, naked save for a saddle and harness. But he makes it a point to be dressed properly as a human. Well, to be dressed, at least. Mostly, he just wears some short pants and sandals. And in case he isn't in a tropical environment, also a pink scarf. Every time he doesn't forget to put any of it on. But he does make it a point to wear underpants, at least. (Most of the time. Can't guarantee anything.) Running around in nothing but pants isn't too bad either, since hard work made him pretty athletic, though his face is pretty average, at least his body doesn't look bad. Still, some persons would prefer him to be dressed in more than short pants.
But since he's mostly in donkey form, he doesn't really need clothing that much.
History:
Berhtold doesn't talk much about life before the forest. It was understood by his foster father. Anyone who'd come that far out all by himself had to be a cast out of society trying to begin a new life.
But let's start with it anyway:
Berthold isn't Berhtolds real name. Albert was his real name. He was the son of a merchant, a very strict merchant who wanted his son to be a merchant as well. Take over family business. Thing is, Albert didn't want to be a merchant. He didn't want to be anything. He just wasn't a very motivated human being. And he was content with being poor. Only the world around him wasn't.
So he let the world push him to do something. He helped in his fathers store, or more like lazed around and ate the goods if he felt like it. His father had rare goods.
Is it even worth mentioning how he got his hands on a devilfruit?
I think not. What is much more interesting is: did he know what it was? Maybe he ate it in a fit of rebelliousness against his father, or in an attempt to anger him so much that he'd be thrown out. If so, he succeeded. The next day, he was living on the street. At an age of barely thirteen.
He didn't care much. But again, the stupid world just wouldn't let him be.
In the small, conservative village, devilfruit users weren't looked upon kindly. And no matter how unmotivated, Albert had a strong desire to live. About the only thing he had a strong desire for.
So he ran. Or jogged.... Well, trotted. The point is, he got out of the village.
But the forests weren't save either. Neither for a human boy, nor a donkey.
After a week, he was half starved and barely holding on. He had been wounded, and the wound was inflamed. Sickness was spreading fast.
After two weeks, he thought he would die. After two and a half weeks, he passed out, for good he thought.
Berthold woke up in what he soon found out was a small wooden hut. A small, wooden hut with a big, scary old man in it. The man looked older than dirt. He was, too.
A normal child would most likely have been scared to death. Berthold was slightly uncomfortable, but calm enough.
After a first shock, he found out the man was none other than Grandolf Eklund, the almost legendary blacksmith. It didn't shock him as much as it should have.
It wasn't a tough choice, staying with him. The only other choice was wandering off on his own again, and he definitely had had enough of that.
Grandolf was heavily against it at first, but, despite his lack in motivation, Berthold found it in him to help out wherever he could. In donkey form, he could carry much more than as a human, and in human or hybrid form, he was a useful helper in many things.
In time, they found themselves taking a liking to each other, like father and son. It became unimaginable for Berhtold (who had gotten his name by Grandolf, who found himself... unwilling to remember his real name. Later he'd find out Berthold Eklund had actually been the name of Eklunds real son.) to live any other way.
He got to know the forest better than any town, but still, sometimes he went out to get things not found in the forest (I'm talking about spices and such! Get your mind out of the gutter!). Life was good. Life was unchanging. Until one day, when he went to the coast to get some salt and fish. It looked like there had been a battle, judging from the amount of corpses lying around. Carefully, Berthold set his hooves (he was in animal form) where the least blood was. Suddenly, one of the corpses moaned. Biggest shock he had experienced in years. He looked at the corpse, a girl slightly younger than him, and as it didn't move or moan any more, he slowly edged closer to it. First, he poked it with his hoove. No reaction. Next, he sniffed a little, poking it with his snout. Blood and gunpowder. He wasn't a doctor, but this generally wasn't considered a very healthy combination. For a while, he thought about leaving. He shifted his weight from one hoove to the other. Leaving wasn't his only problem. If he wanted to carry her, he'd have to change. That wasn't decent. But she was unconcious! He couldn't leave her there!
So, finally, he changed back to human form and picked her up. It wasn't as bad as he had expected. As soon as she was on his back, he changed back to animal form. Mostly, it was because carrying her would be easier this way, but also because it would be less shocking in case she woke up. Girls generally didn't like being carried by naked men, that much he had gathered from his experiences outside of the forest.
Regardless, she didn't wake up. And Grandolf was less than glad that he had brought her to him. Or at least he acted like it. Deep down, Berthold knew he would have done the same. He already had, after all. A scary old man with a huge heart.
The girl took it well when she woke up. She had fever for about a week, but it was nothing that couldn't be cured. The wound itself was much more serious. It was clear she would have died if they hadn't saved her 8and sometimes Berthold asks himself: Wouldn't it have been better that way?). They found out her name was Althea De Vries, and she was a marine. Or had been, at least. After being left for dead, she seemed to be holding a grudge.
She was very quiet, didn't say much for many weeks. When she was strong enough, Berthold took her with him and she helped him with his work. Still she always seemed distant. Distant... Angry... disappointed in humanity... Bitter. That wasn't good for such a young girl. But Berhtold wasn't the type to judge others.
Soon, she started talking more. About what had happened to her. And Berthold understood, suddenly, why she was bitter and disappointed. Since then, he made it his motivation to be there for her, in whatever she needed. It was weird to suddenly feel the need to protect someone. But it was a good thing.
Few years passed, and Althea became a part of his family to him.
Now that time had stitched up her wounds, he and Grandolf got to see her nice side. She was gentle, calm, well mannered and just... But still, there was that bitterness. There was that anger. Time stitched the wounds up, but they would never heal. No, as he'd later find out, time didn't stitch her wounds up, it barely covered them a little, so the world couldn't see them as well. Time was a good healer, but some wounds just stay fresh forever. And the longer she stayed with them, the more she seemed to want to be able to do more about the world than just watch.
Berthold had never felt the need to change the world, and he was worried because a member of his family got so consumed in a wish that was, in the end, just revenge for what had been done to her.
They were careful not to let him hear, but he still knew she and Grandolf argued sometimes. He was a legendary blacksmith, and she was a girl who needed something to change the world. That something, why shouldn't it be a weapon?
He didn't know the details, but he could see the worry in the normally hard old mans face sometimes. Something was moving. Slowly, but steadily.
One day, Grandolf got sick. Very sick. Maybe he had been, all along, but hadn't told them. And Berthold was worried he wouldn't make it. But when he asked if he could lead a doctor there, he was shunned.
Grandolf didn't want a doctor. According to him, he had lived a lot longer than he should have, and it was high time for him to leave already.
Berthold and (sometimes) Althea would sit with him in the evenings, every day, doing everything they could to make him better. And even when Althea had gone to sleep, Berthold would still be there.
It was a month later, and such an evening when Berthold was alone on his watch, when Grandolf told him to help him up. Berthold didn't want to, but the old man had that determination on his face that told him nothing he'd do would keep him from standing up anyway.
So he helped him up, and he supported him into a room that hadn't been used in years. It had the amboss in it, and the hammer, and the oven Grandolf himself had designed in his younger years. Berthold sat down in the corner of the room as told, and watched as his master... his father forged his last masterpiece. He must have horted the materials for years, only waiting for this moment- the night he'd die. And Berthold was the only one who saw how the greatsword “Epiphany“ was made.
The next morning, Grandolf Eklund died.
(Here, I'll cut it a little. I'm no good at scenes like that, and I really think it shouldn't be spoiled just like that. Short: they were sad and buried him.)
After that, there was nothing to hold Althea at that place. She took the greatsword and left, and he left with her. Ever since then, he has been her loyal pack animal and the only friend in her world.
She made him promise that, if something was to happen to her, he wouldn't play hero and instead try to stay alive himself.
So when she was captured, he was smart enough to not reveal he was a devilfruit user, and instead acted like a donkey (again, he was in donkey form). The marines weren't dumb, but they didn't naturally expect any animal they saw to be a naked Zoan user who just enjoys being a donkey more than being a human. Also, he had a lot of practice in being a donkey.
Basic tests were run on him, but it was basic tests run on normal donkeys. Seastone wasn't involved. He was happy to hear he was a healthy and strong donkey and that it would be a waste to shoot him. He couldn't agree more. Since then, he waits for Althea to break out and get him. In the meantime, he serves the marine as a packing animal. It's a good life, with a stall and nice, dry hay to sleep on.
Personality:
Berthold is, well... not a motivated person. He's usually content with the way things work out, be it good or bad, and would rather run and hide like a coward than fight. Relaxed and laid back, he's a nice person to be around, so nice, in fact, that even Althea doesn't find him quite evil enough to even be angry at him. Though it can get a little annoying... But much more annyoing is that, even though he is nice and helpful, he's also very pessimistic. Very, very pessimistic. It's part of his philosophy: If you expect the worst to happen from the start, then you can't be disappointed. That might be exactly the reason why he can travel with Althea and not go insane from her obsession with exterminating evil. Such a patient, uncomplaining person.
He's highly intelligent and can get very philosophical, but mostly just tends to think in a straight line. The time with the marine made him even less talkactive, and even more prone to stay in donkey form.
This might or might not have given him his nudist tendencies. At least he knows to wear pants as long as there's girls around. Then again, he's not that bad to look at. Work makes you muscular, even work as a donkey. Not that he cares much. His muscles aren't for show. And that's why he doesn't really show them that much. Except when he's, well... running around half naked again. All with that serious, pessimistic expression on his face.
Ship: He's a donkey. Donkeys don't use ships that often.
Ship Flag: none
Devil Fruit: Uma uma no mi, model usagi (horse fruit, model donkey)
type: zoan
effect: It's known as one of the more useless devilfruits, and gives the user the usual hybrid and animal form.
Special Abilities: Well, he can carry things... Oh, and he also knows a little about traps.
Learned Techniques (Keep it 1-25): uh, none.
Weapons/Items:
He usually carries... stuff. Like tents, or food... or people. He himself doesn't have anything worth listing.
Goals:
He just wants a nice, quiet life. But only if Althea can have one as well. If not, then screw nice, and screw happy, he'd rather help her achieve what she needs.
Tue Jan 11, 2011 4:19 pm