Dmitri Suid
Malfean Nephandus | Foley Engineering | Suidelike Gat
Born as Jans Kenyatta in Protea, Soweto, Dmitri was raised in a family of Bastet Kinfolk, a lineage tied to powerful feline spirits. His life was shattered when a jealous family friend, threatened by their legacy, betrayed them to the Ajaba under the false claim that they sought to revive the Endless Storm and carry on Black Tooth's dark legacy. The Ajaba slaughtered nearly everyone. Jans, only nine years old, was left for dead.
Abandoning his birth name, he survived the streets under the alias “Dmitri,” hiding from both the monsters that destroyed his family and the past that haunted him. He was eventually taken in by Umoya Waseningezimu, a local gang leader. Together they built Suidelike Gat, a feared crew in Kliptown and Moroka, with Dmitri rising as second-in-command.
When Umoya returned from a mysterious disappearance—reforged and empowered—he brought Dmitri into the fold of Foley Engineering, a corporate front for far darker interests. Under the guidance of Emmett Causer, Dmitri underwent a spiritual unmaking: his pain, rage, and trauma were sacrificed to Karnala and Abhorra, Urge-Wyrms of hatred and despair. He emerged reborn, taking the name Dmitri Suid, casting off his past completely.
Now, as Chief Operations Officer of Foley Engineering's Oklahoma City branch, he works under CEO Umoya Waseningezimu. Dmitri oversees supernatural recruitment, indoctrination, and enforcement programs. Each “welcome package” he sends out is a trial by ordeal, a mirror of the torment that birthed him. His true name, Jans Kenyatta, is known to no one.
Storyteller Perspective
Dmitri Suid is a man carved out of trauma and tempered in ritual. He walks like someone who survived the kind of suffering that most people only fear in dreams—and came through it sharpened. He speaks softly, deliberately, as if language itself is a tool he doesn't waste. He is polite, refined even, but there's always the sense that something ancient and coiled is watching through his eyes. When he enters a room, he doesn't need to announce himself; the atmosphere shifts, like the air is holding its breath.
For Storytellers, Dmitri should be played as someone who rarely reacts—he responds. And when he does, it is measured, calm, and final. Even his moments of violence carry a sense of ritual, as though he's completing something rather than lashing out. He doesn't posture, doesn't shout, doesn't bluff. He simply acts in ways that remind others how little power they truly have in his presence.
His magick expresses itself not in dramatic displays, but in subtle unravelings of reality. Conversations feel rehearsed, luck breaks his way, and people find themselves confessing truths they meant to bury. His power is invasive and personal—an extension of his belief that people are either meant to be broken, or already are. And once they're broken, he can remake them. It's what was done to him, after all.
Dmitri is most dangerous not when he threatens, but when he offers. He speaks of purpose, of clarity, of shedding pain by surrendering to something greater—something darker. His strength lies not just in his abilities, but in how much he understands what people suffer... and how easily he can offer them an end to it.
Use him sparingly, and with care. His presence should mark a turn in the story: a choice, a corruption, or the slow realization that what he represents isn't just power—it's the seductive relief of finally giving in.
Cultural Respect and Historical Inspiration
Dmitri Suid's story draws from the socio-political history of Soweto, particularly Protea and Kliptown, where legacies of resistance, systemic violence, and urban survival remain deeply woven into community memory. His narrative incorporates elements of post-apartheid trauma, gang subcultures, and spiritual marginalization—not as spectacle, but as a framework to explore transformation, loss, and the hunger for power in the aftermath of destruction. Care has been taken to avoid caricature or romanticization; Dmitri is not a symbol of “the broken survivor,” but a character shaped by betrayal, identity erasure, and inherited pain. His voice—rooted in lived history, not fantasy—reflects the complex tensions of cultural continuity, spiritual inheritance, and personal reclamation. Storytellers are encouraged to approach him with sensitivity, particularly when navigating themes of colonial trauma, spiritual violence, and systemic betrayal, all of which inform the character's journey.