Biographies by Jynx

[Jynx]

Just being preemptive in case something happens to my character site.

[Jynx]

Ochre
- all pictures are from weebly -

Current Name: Ochre
Other Names, if any: None
Age (in moons): Around 30 moons
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Male
Creation Date: Late January of 2020

Current Affiliation/Clan: None
Former Affiliation/Clan, if any: None
Future Affiliation/Clan, if any: Unknown

Rank: Loner
Mentor(s): None
Apprentice(s): None

Father: NPC
Mother: NPC
Sibling(s): None
Offspring: None

Best Friend(s): None
Friend(s): None, Open
Neutral: Chaotic good
Acquaintance(s): Damsel (Pepperkins), Torch (Splashy)
Enemies: None, Open

Crush: None, Open
Significant Other: None
Admirers: None, Open

Overview: Ochre is not your typical cat. He is short-tempered and has about as much patience as a kit waiting for his siblings to waken. Many times, he is clueless about social expectations and rather snarky for no obvious reasons. He can be a smooth talker at times but sometimes speaks in sporadic, sometimes uninterperative, phrases and quotes. If you even so much as mention foxes, or ask for his history or background for that matter, he will be quick to reply with a rude, sarcastic comment filled with rather vulgar language. That is if he doesn't claw your ears off first. Despite his tough exterior, Ochre hates harming another cat. He is afraid to become his father, and, though he may mutter and threaten to give you a good nip on the muzzle, he would never follow through. He doesn't expect anyone to take him seriously and acts as so.
Most of the time, when he is around other cats, Ochre is irritable and about as helpful as a dead squirrel on a border patrol. He likes to seem bored and unapproachable, but many ties it's just a cover-up. He likes a couple of cats, but has a hard time opening up to them. Ochre is passive and apathetic at the best of times.
Though he has a short attention span, Ochre can be a good cat to vent to. So long as you don't mind occasional rude interruptions and blunt remarks. Because of his paranoia and schizophrenia, Ochre is mentally unstable, cynical, and unpredictable. He takes a sort of pleasure in being as rude and impossible as possible and has trouble getting his true thoughts across. One of his quirks, though, is that he likes to use uncommon words in everyday speech.
Traits: Blunt, sarcastic, vile, moody, unpredictable, rude, snarky, stubborn, passive, apathetic, impatient, mutter-y

Mental Age: Depends on the day
Psychiatric Complications: Schizophrenia: Due to complications with his birth, an abusive presence in his life, and a chemical imbalance of serotonin and dopamine in his brain, Ochre contracted hebephrenia and paranoia, both subtypes of Schizophrenia. His thoughts are often unorganized and emerge through speaking as so. When he does speak, it is usually through short, choppy, phrases and sometimes a little vulgar. He forgets things, like names, very easily and oftentimes forgets everyday tasks that are habitual to most, like grooming and eating. This is why he is so skinny; many days he finds himself going without meals. Despite his unkempt appearance and feral nature, Ochre can seem almost normal when he is by himself, or with a few certain cats.
Phobias: He has a mind-numbing fear of dark brown tabby cats with dark green eyes, as that is what his father looked like
Ochre is still terrified of foxes, and probably will be for the rest of his life. Their scent surfaces memories too deep to disappear.

Sociability: 2/10
Outlook: 2/10
Responsibility: 6/10
Cleanliness: 0/10
Stubbornness: 9/10
Generosity: 3/10
Manners: 1/10
Bravery: 8/10
More Logical or More Emotional?: Logical

Favourite Season: Winter
Favourite Food: Rabbit
Favourite Word: Shut up
Favourite Sound: Bubbling river
Usual Tone: Exasperated and sarcastic

Greatest Hope: Being accepted
Greatest Strength: His stubbornness and his words
Greatest Weakness: Resistance to killing and really hurting another cat physically but never allowing himself to run away
Worst Nightmare: Someone finding out that he killed his father
Deepest Darkest Secret:
Most Treasured Memory:
Most Treasured Possession: His rope: After killing his father, he was taken in by twolegs. They had taken him to the vet, but his scars would never fully heal. The twoleg kits had tied a rope around his neck to symbolize that he was theirs, as humans do sometimes, and he never took it off, despite its fraying ends. They had saved his life, and he was, deep down, grateful to them. But still, he escaped their home as soon as he had regained consciousness from the anaesthetics.

Quirk(s): Wears a rope around his neck, hates fighting despite his scarred appearance, even tougher than he looks, forgets to eat sometimes
Theme Song(s): Mad World by Tears For Fears

Place of Birth: Unknown
Date of Birth: Unknown
Former rank(s): None
Beliefs: None

Fur Color(s): Black and silver
Fur Texture: Course and scraggly
Fur Length: Short
Markings: Black with silver paws
Eye Color: Brown, nearly black, with green flecks

Body Type/Structure: Ochre is a midnight black tom cat with silver paws. He is of average height and build, though very skinny. His fur is dishevelled and unkempt, and his tail is usually matted, completing his scruffy appearance. His only attractive feature, perhaps, would be his eyes. They are nearly as black as his pelt, but for the rim of pale green surrounding his pupils. Even his eyes, however unique, hold an unsettling, almost tormented, look on the best of days.
Height: Average
Weight: Too light for his frame
Voice: Deep, slow, and sorrowful
Gait: Smooth and purposeful
Scent: The wild

Scars / Deformities: Scars are also a notable feature of his. The most obvious of which is a long claw slice down his face, starting above his left eye and stretching boldly between his eyes and ending at his right jawline. The fur never fully covered the wound, and it's a vivid, frighting slash that marrs his otherwise almost handsome face. Ochre also has numerous scars from his father, some of which include old bite marks in his haunches and long claw scrapes crisscrossing his underbelly. Though these have mostly healed, they will never truly leave.
Diseases / Conditions: Schizophrenia: See above

Coordination: 9/10
Reflexes: 9/10
Strength: 6/10
Speed: 8/10

[Jynx]

Ochre - A History
History
- Ochre was born in an old fox's den
- His mother (NPC) passed away minutes after giving birth to him, but she never blamed him, even in her last moments.
- He was an only kit
- His short-tempered father (NPC), who loved Ochre's mum a hundred times more than he ever loved his own son, blamed him for his mom's death
- His father hated Ochre for causing the death of his mother and didn't try to hide it
{ Excerpt from his memories }
Ochre blinked his eyes open, the pale dawn light filtering in the old fox's den. The scent of the wild, red animals had all but faded, but his dreams were haunted by the stories his father told of them. As Ochre lay in his nest, still waking up, a shadow crossed in front of the entrance. Ochre small body shuddered as he heard his father enter. His large tabby shoulders pushed inside, and the dark tom's green gaze glared balefully at his son. Ochre's stomach twisted; he could tell immediately that his father was in a bad mood. His paws shook as his father crossed the den in two swift steps and shoved him roughly with a paw. Ochre grimaced as his father's paw struck one of his many bruises before hurrying out of the den. However quick he was, he was never quick enough. The small tom felt sharp teeth meet his hind leg, and he scampered faster into the sunlight, wincing at his sore muscles.
"Come on," his father growled in his ear, his voice harsh and venomous, before picking up the pace to a run. Hurrying to catch up fast so as to delay another one of his father's anger fits, Ochre followed him towards the twoleg place, it's yellow lights shining in the distance. This was one of his better mornings, to Ochre's relief. Some other days were worse, much worse.

- He constantly yelled at Ochre and belittled him to the point of abuse
- Started having hallucinations when he was 6 moons old
{ Excerpt from his memories }
He was six moons old when it first started happening. The sun was low in the sky, and it had been a long day. His pelt felt like it was on fire after his father's 'training' practice. More like punishment... Ochre mumbled to himself as he hobbled to a mossy patch on the ground. The dark brown tom flopped down and began lapping tenderly at his pelt. A moment later, the young tom broke off. Something had flashed at the edge of his vision. Tensing, Ochre whipped his head to the side, then immediately regretted it as a hot flash of pain shot through his neck. He spotted a glint of dark red fur and a bushy tail whipping behind a grey boulder. Ochre's pelt sparked with fear. His father had told them that they'd come. The foxes. Terror washed over his thoughts, a roar in his ears. The tom cat stood up shakily and gave a small squeak of terror as his gaze met the amber ones of the fox. It let out a fearsome snarl, and Ochre stumbled back. The six moons old feline knew he was no match for the animal, and it knew that, too. The fox leapt towards him, and Ochre shut his eyes, hair on end. However, the sharp prick of teeth at his neck didn't come. Instead, a voice broke through his terrified thoughts.
"Ochre! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ochre's eyes shot open as he stared up at his father's towering form, his growl forced through gritted teach. His tabby pelt was ruffled and his sharp, dark green gaze flashed, piercing the smaller tom witheringly.
"I-I thought I saw something..." Ochre stammered, trailing off when he realized that there was nothing to worry about except his father, who was nearly as dangerous as a fox himself. Had he really imagined the whole thing? Desperate for an answer, but not so that he would ask his father and get a rebuke in return, the skinny black tom remained silent, eyes downcast and heart pounding.
"Thought you saw something," his father snorted, contempt and mockery sliding from his tongue like poison. "I've heard that one before." Rolling his eyes, the massive tabby gave his son a shove, nearly toppling the smaller cat onto his side. "I'm going hunting. Stay. Put." Nodding mutely, Ochre watched his father disappear, his heart heavy and his mind racing. What was happening to him?

- Paranoia set in when he was 8 moons
{ Excerpt from his memories }
Heart thudding wildly, stomach clenching painfully, hot breath on his tail. Ochre ran, ran, ran. His eyes were blinded with terror, his breaths coming in short, erratic spurts. Snarls, curses, hate, all chasing him. Claws catching him, grabbing him, hurting him. Running for fear, for escape, for desperation. Never leaving, always chasing, chasing, chasing. Dreams filled with claws ripping, voices snarling, fur snagging. He was being hunted at night by him. Always him.

- Killed his father after he went into one of his rages; still haunts him
{ Excerpt from his memories }
"Ochre!" His father's deep growling voice sounded at his ear. Ochre woke with a start, the year-old tom jumping to his paws and whirling to face his father. The dark tabby faced his son, lips pulled back in a snarl. "You killed her." His voice shot through him like ice, and he felt the familiar wash of shame surround him. His father told him at least once a week how he had been the reason his mother was dead. Not once did he ever get used to it, but he let it go and didn't retaliate. He was done being the submissive one. Done taking the abuse. Done with being the object of his father's hatred.
"Shut up!" He shouted, black fur standing on end. Though he was more than 24 moons younger than his father, Ochre was his same height. Maybe not more muscular, but he was still able to look his evenly in the eye. His father's eyes gained the crazed look they so often carried, and a lightning-fast paw lashed out, catching Ochre's muzzle. He gave a shriek of pain and agony as his claws sliced across his face. His father had hurt him, yes, but never on his face before. He didn't want any suspicion when they were around others, so he always made sure to hurt him where one couldn't easily see.
A fearsome snarl ripped through Ochre, and he leapt forward, claws outstretched. His father let out a caterwaul and met him mid-jump. Ochre felt agony sear his ear as his father clouted him sharply with an unsheathed paw. Quick as a snake, the black tom lunged forward, knocking the muscular tabby backwards. His father battered his soft belly with thorn sharp hind paws, and Ochre lurched back, head reeling and stomach burning like an open flame. An echoing ring in his ears and a haze swept over him as he threw himself forward blindly, claws and teeth connecting without any sense of aim. A moment later, his teeth sunk into his father's neck, and he felt him go limp. Shock engulfed the black tom as he staggered backwards. He didn't mean to kill him!
"Damn it! Damn it!" Ochre cried to himself, panting hard. His head spun and his stomach heaved as he fought down the weight of what he had done. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he repeated over in his head. No matter how cruelly his father had treated him, he never wished him dead! Guilt twisted through his body, and, whirling around, he ran unsteadily from his father's dead body only to collapse a few minutes later. His pain, moments ago dulled by shock and terror at what he had done, came back full fury. I need to get out of here. The thought raced through his mind, and he got up, limping towards the twoleg place a hundred or so yards away. the ground dipped beneath him, and Ochre fell into blackness beside a twoleg nest.

- After killing his father, he was taken in by twolegs. They had taken him to the vet, but his scars would never fully heal. The twoleg kits had tied a rope around his neck to symbolize that he was theirs, as humans do sometimes, and he never took it off, despite its fraying ends. They had saved his life, and he was, deep down, grateful to them. But still, he escaped their home as soon as he had regained consciousness from the anaesthetics.