Viktor Kozlov

*Super Human Strength, Speed, Stamina, Agility, and Durability
*Heighted Senses: Due to Empathy, he can sometimes sense the emotions of others through touch. Vik can smell living creatures up to 100ft away. He can hear a heartbeat 30ft away, and can see infrared spectrum (detect heat signatures) in total darkness.
*Transformation Control: Due to his witch blood, Vik can shift into a wolf at will (even without a full moon)
*Claws/Teeth: Rend through fabric, wood, cinder block, and some metals. Claws can be used to crawl along walls.
*Infectious Bite/Scratch: Venom is fatal to most vampires, and Vik is highly capable of creating other wolves. (He likely won't, though.)
*Lie Detection: Able to sense when most mortals are lying.
*Pain Transference: He can absorb and alleviate pain from other people/creatures, bringing it onto himself instead. (Rarely used, he's not a hero.)
*Memory Transference: Vik can transfer (give or take) memories with verbal commands alongside direct eye contact (much like a compelling spell for a vampire, but dealing solely with memories in this instance.)
*Healing Factor: Massive tissue damage (IE: Bullet wounds, slashes, punctures, blunt force trauma, and severe burns) heal completely without so much as a scar, in a short amount of time. His ability to heal is at least ten times that of a human.
*Eolas: Allows Vik to connect to nature, allowing him to discover someone's location. (Works best in wooded areas, much like tracking.)

*Silver: Such as bullets, blades, etc. Negative reaction to silver is sometimes so strong that mere touch burns his skin.
*Mercury
*Wolfsbane
*Belladonna: A type of nightshade plant poisonous to werewolves.
*Mountain Ash: One can contain this werewolf with a barrier made of mountain ash.
*Mistletoe: Mistletoe is poisonous if ingested and can lead to his death if untreated.
*Electricity: Steady application of low amperage can keep this werewolf weak and in human form. (It will also thoroughly frustrate AND piss him off. And, well, payback is a bitch.)
*Pain: Intense pain can also keep him in human form.
*Broken Neck: Instant death.
*Heart Extraction: Instant death.
*Stronger beings. (Obviously gonna kick his ass.)
*Exhaustion: He can tire out from taking in too much magical power or even from overexerting himself with his own magic use.
*Distraction: If someone distracts Vik during a complicated spell, that spell will cease immediately.

*Conjuration: Vik can call, command, or summon an object, person, or spirit already in existence.
*Scrying: The ability to see what is happening in remote places by looking into a reflective surface, like a mirror or a bowl of liquid (often blood).
*Elemental Control: Act of controlling and manipulating the elements of air, earth, fire, water, and weather. Weather is Vik's favorite.
*Necromancy: Act of controlling and manipulating the power of death and controlling undead corpses.
*Pain Infliction: Act of inflicting pain upon another person, especially supernatural beings.
*Mind Control: Act of controlling and manipulating the minds of humans. (Limited to NPCs only.)
*Mind Stunning: Act of bemusing and rendering someone unconscious. (Limited to NPC OR Dice Roll.)
*Precognition: Act of foreseeing future events. (Limited to dreams and nightmares, usually only bits and pieces.)
*Mediumship: Act of calling, communicating, and invoking the spirits of the dead.
*Glamour: Ability to create an illusion so real that it is to fool any onlooker. (Used on his eyes to hide the lime green.)
*Invocation: Act of calling the spirits of the dead into a circle or into the self.
*Spell Casting: Vik has a grimoire full of fun little spells.
*Superhuman strength and durability.
*Spiritual Sensing: Ability to feel spiritual activity.
*Levitation
*Telekinesis: The act of moving and manipulating objects with one's mind.
*Longevity: Potentially immortal, but decapitation can most definitely kill him.
*Hypnosis: Ability to manipulate minds. (NPCs only.)
*Healing: Limited to himself.
*Persuasion: Power to control through verbal commands, much like hypnosis but is limited to a single command at a time. (NPCs only OR Dice Roll.)
*Potion Brewing: Drink up.
*Transmutation: Ability to alter forms/structure of beings/objects. (His house, for example is gothic black and has a million hidden areas due to this ability. When he cancels it out, it will go back to being a normal two story house.)

Russia:
The screams in the air seemed to be eternal at this point, ever present and nightmare inducing when the child actually found time to sleep. There was nowhere to hide anymore, at least not for long, and the hunters were hot on their trail. Viktor didn't understand, though his mama told him that some people just hated those who were different. He wanted to know why. Fear wasn't a good enough excuse for what they did to people, at least not to Vik. He wanted to stop running away, to confront them, to look them dead in the eyes and ask questions, demand answers. His mama shut that idea down hard. Vik was barely ten years old..

Fast forward to ten years later, they were still in hiding. Vik continued to question this kind of scared lifestyle on the daily, pressing the subject tirelessly until his mama eventually shut him down with a guilt trip. "Viktor, do you REALLY want to die so badly? To risk our lives, too? They will torture you until you spill everything you know! That's what they do! They are monsters!" Ironic, because that's what the hunters said about them, too. The young Upyr didn't understand the hatred. What had they even done? Granted.. That wasn't to say that his father hadn't tasted blood. Maybe they DID have reason to be afraid... But not of Vik, never of Vik. Until they provoked him...

This came in the form of finally catching up to them, easily spotting a nonhuman by the glow of his eyes. They were forced into cages, and his mama hadn't been lying when she mentioned torture. To the hunters' surprise, any damage they inflicted on the Upyr quickly healed moments later, causing them to experiment with deeper wounds and severe methods of burning. Those things took longer to heal, but just as before, his skin always faded back to the way it was before; untouched by scars. The witch was different, she didn't heal like he did, and neither did his father. He had enhanced healing, yes, but nothing like Vik. It appalled and thrilled the hunters that had them captive. Night after night, they inflicted pain beyond anything the man had ever thought possible, pushing further and further each time and leaving him breathless and bleeding heavily on the floor, eventually just blacking out. He kept his mouth shut, much to their dismay, not 'spilling all he knew' by a long shot. His mother begged him to from her own cage, to tell them anything they wanted to know, screaming as her defiant son fought back and spat in their faces.

Years later, his revenge crashed down with the fury of a hurricane, the rain and wind howling that night in an almost ominous manner. The monsters walked down the stairs with their torture devices in hand and found the Upyr standing behind the bars with strong arms crossed, staring at them with narrowed acid green orbs. Ready, and waiting. Unbeknownst to them, he had other plans for the night. Exchanging glances, one of them walked closer, pulling a dagger from his belt. Vik held eye contact with the hunter, a low command leaving his lips in a low growl, "You will turn around, and you will stab that dagger directly into your partner's face. Then? You'll walk back over here and let me out." The 'partner' had burst into laughter at first, but grew stark white when the compelled man turned around and started towards him with that dagger. Vik's mama had scurried to her feet at the turn of events, and his papa's eyes were the size of saucers. How did Vik know this would work? Well, he'd been testing it on the one that brought their food and water, whispered harmless commands that he noticed were followed. He worked his way up to this. The twenty-five year old Upyr had just discovered the tip of the iceberg to what he was capable of. Once the partner was stabbed and sputtering on the floor, the hunter walked back over to the cage in a trance, fumbling with the keys a moment before finally unlocking it. The cage creaked open slowly as Viktor pushed the door with a pale hand. His mama blinked as if she couldn't believe it. Why hadn't she used magic herself? It wasn't that simple. She needed a spellbook. Seemed Vik did not. They escaped that night.

They went back to the lifestyle they had before, staying out of sight, strategically hidden and blending in. Vik later learned glamour, turning his eyes a warm shade of chocolate brown. It was exhausting at first, to hold that passive magic in place for extended amounts of time, but eventually it became second nature, something he barely even realized he was doing. Years passed as they jumped from town to town each time someone got too close to figuring out what they were, or when his papa slipped up and killed someone. Viktor himself had some kills under his belt too by this point, always in self defense. He wasn't a monster, he refused to become a monster.

Once upon a time, an Upyr crossed paths with a vampire. Her name.. was Rebekka. She was like a porcelain doll, slender and seemingly fragile; yet oh so lovely, with long blonde hair that fell loose curls and eyes that sparkled like diamonds. It didn't take long for Viktor to become smitten with her, especially as they shared tales of who and what they were; whispered conversations late at night under twinkling stars. Those conversations eventually shifted as time passed, to amorous exchanges and steamy nights under the covers. His parents did not approve of his beloved given that she was a risk, an outside factor that was not in their original plan of survival. Viktor sneaking out like that endangered them all, dancing at those lavish balls with her put him under the scrutiny and mercy of the humans, they'd decided. If he so much as slipped, they were all done for.

Fast forward, and his father killed an entire family during a full moon while he was turned. He couldn't control his wolf, and despite their best efforts to lock him away for the night, he'd gotten free. It was time to skip town, just like always when this happened. No questions asked, they were supposed to run. Vik declined. He was tired of running. "I won't run," he'd declared firmly. He was also engaged now, and had her to think about. He wasn't about to rip her away from the life she was so happily living just because his papa screwed up. It wasn't right. That night, when he'd gone to meet with her in their secret spot, she never showed. Vik paled, going directly to her home, because something deep in his gut told him that something had happened. She was like clockwork and for her not to show... dread filled him, flesh covered in cold sweat when he got to her home and found the door wide open. He ran inside and searched the house, calling out her name until his voice was hoarse. He sank to his knees when he finally noticed the ashes on her bed as well as a stake that had been driven into the mattress. She was dead.. Someone had killed her... His entire world came crashing down on his head. At the time, he didn't even think about when his father pulled him from that house hours later and drug him along with them as they left town. He was numb. He stayed numb for centuries to come.

They eventually crossed the sea to America, settling on the coast but going back to hopping towns anytime his father screwed up. The decades ticked by and eventually Viktor himself became a recluse. He no longer went out and tried to make friends because what was the point? His parents were just going to rip him away. He didn't dare allow himself to fall in love again, because he couldn't handle losing something like that a second time. It had left a huge, gaping hole. His parents' antics, all the running, it had turned him into a shell of a man after all these years. Vik was tired, so very tired.

New Versailles:
He'd spent a quiet century here, transmuting an old Victorian house into his own gothic sanctuary. It was cozy, organized, and full of countless bookshelves. It even had a fireplace! It was everything that Viktor could have dreamed of and more. It was 'home'. The creature adapted as times changed, transforming as certain ages and eras required. Currently, he wore the look of a modern day skater, with most of his body covered in tattoos. He'd streaked black hair with white, and took up a liking for an alternative style of clothing. Hoodies, beanies, and skinny jeans became his thing, along with those weathered converse that had probably seen better days.

Vik has just begun to venture back out into society. He's no longer brave and bold like he used to be. That confidence was chipped away over so many years in solitude as well as everything that led up where he was now. Unbeknownst to him, his own father had been the one that murdered the love his life, in order to make him move on with them and run away. Vik has been running his entire life, and when he first settled in New Versailles he'd made a promise to himself that he wasn't going to run anymore. No matter what happened, he was going to stand and face it. If his parents ran, they were running alone. He wasn't going to live under their thumb all of his immortal life...

Up until recently, Vik had actually worked at a potion shop that his parents owned. Old habits die hard however, when his mother blackmailed him into some risky business with one of their potions. He'd drug one of his newest friends (a human) down with him into a twisted spiral of events, as well as having put a stranger and himself in danger by being so reckless. This entire ordeal was like a slap in the face, a wake up call that he'd needed to jumpstart the 'old Vik', the one that had died the night that Rebekka had... The scared hermit in him wanted to hide in his house for another century, but the man he once was, the man that so confidently broke them out of that prison so long ago? He wouldn't allow that. "I never run" he'd declared multiple times now, even though he was still timid and forcing himself to continue forward one day at a time.

Slowly but surely, Vik was picking up the pieces. He'd already started taking baby steps in the form of making friends, gripping with shaking white knuckles when he almost lost one of them during the mistake he'd made because of his parents' bullshit. However, he'd shown two out of three of his friends what he really was and they'd accepted it, so that was something. The world was not like he thought it was, not anymore. That was a hard truth to swallow, but it was possibly for the better. Vik had always been a creature of adaptation and through trial and error, he'd do so again. He just needed to get his footing and map out this unfamiliar territory. He'd been beaten and broken and reduced to ashes in his lifetime and now? Now... it was time to rise.