Post by Lykothas on Sept 19, 2014 0:48:36 GMT
Play-By Name: Rocket Raccoon
Name: Tiny
Age/DOB: 6 years | September 15th
Sex: Male
Race: Animal-Sapien (Raccoon)
Height: 3‘2‘‘ (97cm)
Weight: 45lbs (20kg)
Eye Color: Brown
Planet: Earth
A sentient animal living in a former charcoal kiln in a mostly untouched forest, Tiny does not possess much. His material possessions are as follows:
- A fully equipped kitchen, complete with several hot plates and various cooking pots and pans.
- A set of high quality, hand made kitchen knives, suitable for a high class restaurant.
- Wooden carvings, distantly resembling various animals found in the forest.
- Tools to live in the forest and maintain his home, as well as chopping his firewood.
Tiny is an easy-going creature. He greatly trusts both, his instincts and his intuition, especially when strangers are concerned. Combined with the laissez-faire stance on the topic of personal property, it is easy to misconstrue the sentient raccoon’s behaviour. In fact, he does not care for human concepts of good and evil, or points of view like property. Living in the forest, the animal-sapien has more contact with animals than with humans, and is more comfortable around animals anyways, so Tiny tries to learn from them whatever he can. Then, whatever he learnt, is modified to work with his more humanoid body.
While the small creature is resourceful, he can be irritated and irritating in human company. Tiny can come off as brash most of the time, yet the sentient animal only speaks his mind. Tiny’s concept of lies, together with his sense of restraint, committed suicide shortly after the animal-sapien was born. The, at times, quite dark humour does not help the case. It can be quite the task to earn the trust of the raccoon, but once one has earned it, they can count on Tiny having his or her back. Still, he will never be instantly hostile to strangers. For that, his innate curiosity is way too strong.
As human concepts, like good and evil, the raccoon has never given that thought, since it is simply irrelevant to him. There is no good and evil in nature. Neither is there evil in hunting for nourishment, nor is there good in helping an animal that fell for a trap. There is only that which feels right to Tiny. The only concept that means something to him is that of hospitality. And the concept of anger. The animal-sapien fears anger, since it leads him down a dark road, one he does not wish to tread. So he will try everything possible to not get angry, which includes running away, or simply denying to accept that something happened.
In regard of combat, he dislikes fighting just for the sake to fighting. Not an innately aggressive creature, Tiny has no problems with beating someone up, as long as he has a reason to do so. His training regime follows the same principle. As long as he has to do something, there is also a way to train and learn something from it.
Likes:
- Fish
- Eggs
- Nuts
- Life
- The sun
- Sunrise
- Sunset
- The moon
- Birds singing
- Rain
- Fighting
Dislikes:
- Thunderstorms
- Meat
- Being called an animal
- Watching animals being killed without a reason
- Fighting for the sake of fighting
- Indecisiveness
- The concept of property
- Waking up early
- Catching a cold
6 years ago, Tiny was born in a small German town, first of a litter of four raccoons. They were mostly accepted as the town’s mascots and were given food and shelter, mostly to prevent them from taking residence in someone’s attic. Unlike his brother and sisters, Tiny somehow understood what the humans were saying. Sure, it took him time to clue together the meanings of those strange noises they uttered, but over time, he could follow everything they were speaking. Yet, he did not dare to speak himself, unsure of what would have happened. In the end, he left the village when his brothers did and wandered off into a largely untouched forest in a mountainous region. There, he stumbled over a forgotten shack, a round, squat building standing on a small clearing.
At first, the sentient animal was unsure of what to do, but decided to stay there for a while. Over the following years, he would grow accustomed to the building and actually begin to like the life in the forest. But right after arriving, it all was quite daunting. He had never lived on his own, never had to actually catch food. Yet, Tiny had been taught what was edible and what was not. He stuck to what he knew and trusted his instincts on what he should not touch. It also proved a challenge to stop the roof from leaking and the wind from passing through all the minor openings in the walls. This challenge, however, would mould Tiny’s appreciation for work-outs.
The next 3 years where easy-going, not accounting for the rather violent run-ins with boars and wolf packs, the former feeling threatened and the latter feeling like they would fancy raccoon steak. At first, he was just running and hiding, but after a short while, he started to fight back. His instincts took over and he defended his territory. More than one wolf learnt the hard way that Tiny was not worth the effort. Over time, the sentient raccoon started to develop his own style of fighting, a very rough, almost savage style focused on bringing down targets quickly. He also learnt to mimic the assault patterns of animals, turning them into techniques for him to use.
Throughout these years, he developed a knack for domestic skills, like cooking, sewing, or simply keeping everything tidied up. Especially the cooking got him very interested, finding a bunch of books someone dropped off in the forest. Among those, the cooking books he pretty much devoured, finding fried and spiced fish very much to his taste.
At the age of 4 years, he met a human in the forest. Not trusting her at first, Tiny acted like a ‘normal’ raccoon. The woman was kind and gave him some berries. This continued for several months, with her returning to the forest every day, spending time on a glade nearby Tiny’s home. He watched, she gave him berries, he stayed, she did something. What it was, he was not sure. But she was starting to look worse for wear over time. He watched her closely, nudging her when she was falling asleep. She was slowly starting to look sad and lonely. In the end, she began to talk to Tiny. She thought, he would not understand, but he did. She told him that the only hope she had left had been an energy, called Ki. That she would die of a sickness no doctor could cure. That she learnt of Ki and that by cleansing her energy, she would be able to get rid of the sickness. That the energy was inside any living being.
Suddenly, she stopped coming. Tiny was waiting for her several weeks, always returning to where he had seen her first, then on the glade. She simply was not coming any more. Tiny was not sad. He did not understand why she had not returned. All he thought about was that Ki thing. He tried to remember what she did there, on that glade. He tried to recreate her movements, her behaviour, sans talking to a raccoon.
It took him almost an entire year to even grasp the basics, quite a feat, considering he was working on hazy memory alone. Yet, he was willing to learn. The first time he touched his own Ki, it was an indescribable experience. Tiny would never forget that sensation. Since then, he has put more effort into his training. Tiny, however, has made a promise to not use this special technique in anger, since he does not trust himself in that state.
Never having revealed himself as an animal-sapien, Tiny has now overheard a few travellers talking of an event that supposedly draws in all those who fight. Word has it that all the strongest come together to determine who is the most powerful among them. Reckoning that among those, there must be people with a grasp of Ki, Tiny made a decision. He would participate. He would try and find someone capable of telling him more about Ki. How to achieve a state more in touch with this energy. Maybe, if he learnt more about it, he would be able to help the kind woman who always gave him berries.
[FS] = Fighting Style
[NCS] = Non-Combat Skill
-| Wild Child |- [FS] Tiny has never learnt any official martial arts style. He studies the way the animals in ‘his’ forest fight. Then he tries to emulate it on his own. This leads to a seemingly savage style, one that most likely wastes energy on unnecessary movement and is focused on bringing down the enemy as quickly as possible. Since he learnt of the existence of Ki, Tiny tries to incorporate the energy into his style.
-| Domestic Skills |- [NCS] Living on his own in the forest, Tiny has learnt to take care of himself. This includes the ability to cook. While he can eat his fish raw, for instance, he prefers it fried. The addition of spices is also nice. Aside from cooking, he can also take care of his household and even sew.
-| Wilderness Survival |- [NCS] While it sounds quite romantic, living a life in the wilderness, the truth is that it is quite harsh. Being a sentient animal, Tiny has retained his instincts and relies on them to carry him through. Being able to find a place for the night, to find fresh water, and to know what is edible are all necessary skills, especially since the raccoon is gripped by wanderlust every now and again.
None yet.
[FA] = Flurry of Punches/Kicks
[SS] = Single Strike
[TH] = Throw
-| Wolf Fang Fist |- [FA] The Wolf Fang Fist is a flurry of 6 strikes in rapid succession, while trying to give the image of a wolf, charging its prey. Tiny assaults the opponent with a rapid 5 clawing strikes, the hands crooked to claws. After the five claw strikes, the sentient raccoon finishes off the combination with a double palm strike, usually aimed at the torso.
-| Wild Crash |- [SS] Sometimes, a single kick can be pretty devastating. Especially when all available physical strength is focused in a backwards kick, connecting with the heel first. When Tiny is on the ground, he spins onto his stomach and pushes himself off the ground with all the strength he can muster, aiming a heel kick square at the opponent’s centre of mass.
-| Wild Rush |- [SS] A technique that is built upon speed and precision. Rushing at the opponent, Tiny aims an elbow strike right at the opponent’s solar plexus, with the intention of knocking them out in a single strike.
-| Wild Slam |- [TH] In this technique, Tiny does little more than use his strength and low center of mass to grab his opponent and throw them, usually resulting in them crashing into the ground head first or into some obstacle with their back.
124
--------- 5 Years ago ---------
The sky was dark with rain clouds. Rain was a beautiful thing, just as the sun, at least to Tiny. He quite liked the feel of raindrops, running through his fur, gently rolling down his body. Then, he had not seen the actual lightning, thunder roared in the distance. This was something else... Thunderstorms, the sentient raccoon believed, only existed to haunt him. They had a menacing feel and it was way too loud. Tiny would have to find a place to stay until the thunderstorm had passed by.
It was dark in the forest, not the usual twilight that would have set in around this time. In the distance, thunder rolled across the sky and Tiny was cursing his luck. ‘There must be something around here, a cave, anything...’ he thought, shivering from the thought of sitting in the open. Anything, really.
Stumbling through the undergrowth of the still not well known forest, Tiny looked around, a harried expression on his face. It had begun to trickle down, which meant that outside the forest, it was already raining. It was all getting better and better. Then, Tiny arrived on a clearing and found that he had been right. It was raining. No, not raining, it was a downpour. Great.
Then, his eyes caught on to the structure in the middle of the clearing. A squat, round building. Something made of apparently stone, with a tiled roof. A beautiful sight to him. The sentient animal gave a sigh of relief and rushed over to the house, looking for an entrance. The wooden door was of solid quality – and did not budge an inch. Apparently, something blocked it from the inside. Tiny was now a drenched, scared, and pissed off raccoon, so he cursed all the way up on the roof of the house. Luckily, the walls were not entirely even, so he could get a good grip. On the roof, his first action was to slip up on the rain-soaked, slippery tiles.
After a few moments of blinking and shaking his head, he got up again and proceeded to search for a way in. The only way he found was a large, open duct protruding upwards from the roof. It was completely dark down the duct, but it was potentially a way into the house, so Tiny did not wonder what it was he would climb down. He tried to climb down the duct, but slipped and fell, luckily not far. Also, he found that he fell somewhat soft, in a puddle of... what the hell it was. If it was water, it was extremely stale. Trying not to drink any of it, Tiny searched for a way out of this... pond?
He found the exit after an extended search. Someone had a brilliant idea once and put a metal plate over the exit out of this hole. It was open, so he could push and leave. Then, he found himself in a large room, with only two doors. One obviously lead outside, but there was no barricade. Only a small piece of metal, sticking inside a small metal part on the otherwise wooden door. There was a lot to find out inside this place. But for now, he was safe. Safe from the thunder, slowly growing louder outside as it was rolling across the sky. Safe...
Then, Tiny fell asleep.
--------- 2 Years ago ---------
It was a beautiful spring day in the forest. Tiny had watched the sunrise from the treetops and had gone through his usual morning regime. Today, he would go fishing, look for some herbs and spices, and there was that annoying hole in the roof, where the rain could leak through and into his fireplace. Finally, after three years, he had an idea on how to deal with that hole without smoking himself.
Blinking as he left his home and looked up, he stood still outside and just inhaled the smell of the forest, listening to the birds in the trees. A serene morning in his forest. He started walking towards the pond where he got his fish from. On his way, he noticed the resident bear, who kept his distance from Tiny. It was troublesome, but he had to teach the bear he would not be picked on easily. Slowly shaking his head, the sentient raccoon began to whistle a few tunes.
On his way, he came across a glade, not as large a clearing as the one with his home, but more beautiful, in his opinion. Today, there was something different. There was a human woman standing in the middle of the glade, doing strange motions. She was neither young, nor old. Somewhere in the middle, Tiny guessed. He could not tell whether she was beautiful or ugly, he could only say she was a human. He was simply lacking any comparisons.
One thing was for sure. He would not reveal to her that he could speak. She was a human and there was no telling what the humans would do if they found out there was a speaking animal around them. Certain that she had not noticed him yet, Tiny stowed away his fishing rod and – although it was a tough decision – took off his clothes, all for the sake of looking like a normal raccoon. He hid them away, together with his fishing rod. Then, he approached the woman.
Whatever it was she was doing, she was completely focused on it. The circular motions of her arms had something hypnotic to them and Tiny felt the urge to mimic them. With some effort, he resisted the urge and sat down, watching, studying her.
There was no telling for Tiny how long she kept doing this, but when he looked around again, it was as if he had awakened from some sort of trance. The sun had already begun to set. Something had happened, something the animal-sapien could not explain. She had kept her eyes closed throughout the entire time. Now, she opened them and they had the colour of clear crystal. Tiny almost let out a sound of surprise. She looked at him for a moment, then she reached into a pocket.
Instantly, Tiny was falling into safety mode. When she pulled her hand back out, however, she had no weapon or anything similar in her hand. Instead, she reached out, holding her hand towards him, palm facing up. In her palm, she had a few berries, picked from some brush on the path through the forest. Apprehensively, Tiny grabbed the berries, one by one. She was neither moving, nor speaking, she only held her hand out. While he nibbled the berries, he tried to remember where all the time had dissipated to. He couldn’t remember.
However, there was something he could remember. A strange sensation. It happened while she was doing these motions. Something was there, something Tiny could not put a name to. Some sort of... energy? It made his fur stand on end for a moment, but then it felt different. Not malicious. Warm.
Then, the woman got up and left, not saying a word. There had been an expression on her face, however, one that spoke of pain. Tiny had a hazy memory of someone in his past, looking just the same. It was back when he was still with his parents in that town. An old human, his face had exactly the same expression. The sentient animal pushed the thought away, watching the strange woman walk away in silence. He wondered if he should just ask her about what she had done there. Then again, there was no telling how she would react. ‘Humans are strange,’ was Tiny’s conclusion.
‘Allright... Time to go back home. Now, where did I hide fish and spices?’ Tiny thought, watching the woman as she walked away.
--------- Present day ---------
“Excuse me, could you point me towards the place where all the fighters are supposed to meet?”
Tiny had no intention of hostility and even had put on a smile when he asked someone on the street. All he got in return were either screaming flight, cautious glances, or even stuff thrown at him. It was not easy to deal with humans. After all, they did not have it easy. All the haste for no reason, running around, yelling into small boxes and waving furiously at those things on wheels. Constantly complaining about stuff Tiny did not understand – nor had any intention of understanding.
Suddenly, there was some commotion in a street leading off the large one the animal-sapien was travelling on. A small, mousy human holding a square, flat box was pushed into the small street by a larger, broadly built human, wearing blue clothes with a lot of patches and cuts. That bigger guy was apparently quite tough. ‘This guy might know where I should go. Maybe I should ask,’ Tiny thought. So he wandered off towards the side street. In there, everything was quite shady, but after a short moment, his eyes had grown accustomed and Tiny saw how the big guy was roughing up the mousy-looking man. That was their business, not his, so the animal-sapien decided to keep out of that affair.
“Hey, you there, could you tell me something?” the sentient raccoon asked, again with a smile.
Instantly, the big guy let go of the other man, looking around, a harried look in his eyes. Tiny had seen that look only in the eyes of a wolf on the lower end of the hierarchy in the pack when the alpha wolf had noticed indecent behaviour. Tiny instantly compared that tall guy with a whipping boy and wondered where the pack was.
“Who the hell was that. Show yourself,” the brute muttered, not realizing that he only had to look down.
“It was me, mister. Hey. Look down,” Tiny replied.
Upon looking down, the big guy finally noticed the raccoon. His eyes widening in surprise for a moment, they nearly instantly narrowed.
“Okay, who the hell is there? If it is the police, what the fuck has gotten into you? Also, I am just having a friendly conversation with Simon over here. Ain’t that right, Simon?” he asked, putting one of his big hands on the other guy’s shoulder.
Simon winced, shrank by a few inches, but quickly nodded in approval. He was sweating profoundly and the clothes he was wearing smelled of sweat and fear. Apparently, there was something going on, but that was not Tiny’s problem. There were enough humans around, so he did not have to worry. Looking up at the tall guy, his guts told him he did not like that guy.
“There are only the three of us. Everyone else is out there on the street. Now, if you could tell me, please, where do I have to go to get to the place where all the fighters gather? I heard it should be around here,” Tiny asked once more.
The eyes grew wide again, then the tall guy burst out laughing.
“Bwahahaha! Hahaha! Ha...” It took a short while for the guy to stop. “Okay... That joke is great. You can come out now, Mr. Ventriloquist. Come on out and pick up your pet,” he said aloud, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Excuse me? What did you just call me, mister?” Tiny’s eyes narrowed.
“Come on, quit this. It was funny for a while, but that number’s quickly ceasing to be funny. Pick up your pet animal and get the hell out, I am in a conversation.” His voice was getting cold.
“Erm, Simon was it? Can you tell me where I have to go?” Tiny asked, turning towards the mousy man.
It was time to get going. Tiny did not have many pet peeves. Being called an animal was one of them. Being called a pet was worse. He could almost taste the anger welling up inside him. This reaction was completely irrational and he was totally aware of it, but could not help it. It was not long before he would really have to hurt that big guy and Tiny was sincerely trying to not cause a ruckus.
“Ye.. Yes. I can tell you, but...” Simon muttered, but was interrupted by the big guy.
“No, Simon, you cannot. You are talking to me. Until I have the content of your briefcase, you are not going anywhere, nor are you talking to anyone else. And you, get out of here, critter.”
There is only so much one can take and this was the proverbial straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Shooting the tall, broadly built guy a glare that could have frozen fire, Tiny dropped his bag, then turned towards his opponent. The next moment, the bully slid down, his back to the wall behind him, the eyes turned all white. Tiny landed on his feet, the elbow extended to the side, mere moments after he had struck the bully in the solar plexus. That guy would not hassle anyone for a time and he was certainly not one of the people Tiny was looking for. He glanced at the man in the suit, who was still holding his briefcase.
“You were saying?” Tiny asked, a wolfish grin on his face.
Simon quickly told Tiny the way, then ran off, a strange, dark spot having appeared on Simon’s pants. It was apparently easy to get the information. He had just asked the wrong person first.
