Posts by Otterfang

I already AAAAAA'd about it in Skype but

aaaaaAAAAAA <3

✨ GENERAL

Name: Otterkit ▸ Otterpaw ▸ Otterfang

Age: 12 moons

Gender: Female (AMAB and transgender)

Sexuality: Bisexual

✨ APPEARANCE

Pelt: Chocolate; [x] [x]

Eyes: Green

Build: Thin and tall (Oriental)

Scars: Across her face; on her shoulders; a nicked ear; missing 1/3 of tail [x]

Other: Has hypotonia, or low muscle tone. Due to this, is very flexible, but not very physically strong.

✨ PERSONALITY

Traits:

★ Determined and Ambitious. Ever since she was Otterkit, this molly has been filled to the brim with determination. The first sign was how relentlessly she attacked her transition; she sometimes doubted that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but either way, she pushed forward and eventually found it. Next came apprenticeship; while many other apprentices with hypotonia would have, understandably, taken the role of medicine cat or even given up, Otterpaw needed not only to be a warrior, but to be the best warrior. Learning to fight was a fight in itself, and she hurt herself by being a bit too determined, but everything paid off in the end. When she thought she was dying, Otterpaw's "last request" was a warrior ceremony; and there, dying, she was perfectly happy, for her determination had paid off; she had achieved her ambitions.

★ Realistic. Otterfang is no optimist; but you cannot truly call her a pessimist, either. She prepares for the worst simply because the worst is a possible outcome; but she fully appreciates the best and, of course, hopes for it.

★ Awkward. Otterfang's always stuttered, for some reason or the next. This is the first hurdle when it comes to speech; others have to wait for her to finish short sentences or answers, simply because her words are drawn out with extra syllables. In a chicken-or-the-egg situation, it is hard for Otterfang herself and others to tell; but, yes, the stutter is something in her brain's makeup, something that caused (in part) the awkwardness; she did not develop a stutter because she was socially awkward, and, in fact, did not truly "develop" it at all. Otterfang has never been fantastic socially, developing from a rather extreme case of shyness to an outright, if awkward, molly.

★ Smart. Otterfang has had to rely on her wits, rather than her strength, in all sorts of warrior activities. Eventually, the mental exercise of medicine pulled her in; and her intelligence has carried her through it, making her a quick-learning student.

★ Confident. Confidence, for Otterfang, was a long time coming. In the end, determination birthed skill, which birthed confidence; she is not, however, cocky. Cockiness is not the right word; Otterfang is good at what she does and simply knows this.

Strengths: Determination; preparedness; intelligence; reflexes; physical flexibility

Weaknesses: Fails to look after herself; physical weakness

Likes: Kittens; family; romance; herbs; feeling useful; Addercloud

Dislikes: BloodClan; attention/being in the spotlight; feeling useless

✨ RELATIONSHIPS

Mother: NPC
Father: Deceased + I forgot his name

Siblings: Foxdancer

Mentor: N/A

Apprentice:

Romances: Mutual crush with Addercloud

Close Friends: Addercloud

Friends:

Enemies: Freya

Children:

Other:

✨ INTERACTION

Difficulty: Hard

Health: 100%

Technique: DPS/offense style; quick, relentless attacks until the enemy is incapacitated.

Other: Feel free to powerplay peaceful actions.

✨ HISTORY

- Born in SkyClan

- Family, minus Foxdancer, moved to DarkClan

- Father was killed by a fox; family took it as a sign to return to Foxdancer in SkyClan

- Rejoined SkyClan [x]

- Kidnapped by BloodClan [x]

- Became a warrior [x]

✨ OTHER

Theme: Heathers soundtrack! Most notably: Seventeen (Reprise) [x] / Our Love is God [x] / I Am Damaged [x]

Human AU: Ottie Fang; a mixed-race Indian and Black trans woman. She stands at six-foot-three and is naturally twig-thin. Her hair texture is between Black and Indian; silky, shiny, and kinky, but not quite an afro. Has hypotonia. Is missing her left pinky finger (instead of part of her tail, since humans shouldn't really have tails and all.) Usually wears her hair down or in a bun; wears a lot of flowy, colorful dresses and cutesy makeup. Does martial arts, fencing, and markmanship; hunts as a hobby.

Links: Plotting Thread

Notes to Other Players:

- Otterfang's pronouns are she/her.

- She takes a long time to speak. Feel free to RP impatience or whatever else.

- I know, I know, hypotonia is likely not something you've heard of before, and definitely not something you've seen RPed. I say this only as a "fun fact" of sorts, but I decided to have a character with hypotonia because I have it myself! c: (And thus, you can trust that what I write about it is accurate, lol.)

- I say this only because I've had one issue with it before and it rather ruined a thread: if you read something about Ottie and think it transphobic, first of all -- are you cis? If yes, I might kindly suggest that I know more about the topic than you. Otherwise, you've probably misread my intentions or words. Feel free to message me asking, but please do not be accusatory.

Otterfang snuck up on Addercloud, suppressing a laugh; only after aiming to pounce on her friend did she notice that he had company.

"D-d-d-didn't s-see you th-there," she chuckled to Wheatpaw, shrugging. She had hoped for a little one-on-one time when she saw the golden tabby sitting alone; but she figured that Wheatpaw was alright. She rolled away from Addercloud, licking a paw and looking out at Silverpelt. "Uh, h-h-how a-are you g-guys?" she questioned, looking from the stars to her best friend. Had he been thinking about his family? That seemed rather likely, considering all the tragedies that had plagued the last six or so moons.

"O-oh! U-um, I g-g-g-guess i-i-it i-is," Ottie said, pushing back a stray strand of hair and ducking her head as she turned to face Poppy, eyes nervously flickering from the intruder to her own bag. She had half a mind to grab the backpack and place it under the table; but it was too late for such at the moment, the girl figured. "Th-th-th-thanks?" she squeaked, her voice a big questioning as she diverted her eyes. Was that the correct thing to say? Probably not. Oh well. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a somewhat familiar face; she narrowed her eyes and looked again, but he had passed by. She simply shook her head, pondering what the situation mandated her to do next in her situation with this unexpected little woman.

"O-oh! A-Addercloud's a-already b-been here?" Otterfang asked, bounding up to the scene; she had heard the crash and come to investigate. "Y-you f-fell, I g-g-g-guess? A-are y-you n-nauseous at a-all? H-head h-hurt?" she quickly questioned, slinking around the warrior's body to put her face close to his and look in his eyes. "H-he sl-slurring h-his sp-sp-speech a-at all?" she added to Minnownose, not taking her eyes off of her injured clanmate. As a cat with such a stutter, she felt a bit weird asking about the other's current speech patterns; but she knew that Pebblefur typically had a rather "normal" sort of voice.

Otterfang set to work quickly; the poultice unceremoniously, yet carefully, spit onto a nearby leaf and placed alongside the other herbs. She grabbed a nearby stick; pushed it towards the tom's mouth, noting that she had bitten down onto a similar one when her tail was amputated.

"Y-you c-can b-b-bite down o-on th-this. Tr-trust m-me, y-you'll w-want t-to," she said, chuckling nervously. "I-it'll j-just l-last a second, th-then it'll b-be over," she reassured, voice calming and motherly, as the chocolate molly smiled and gently nodded at Pebblefur. A swarm of butterflies was loose in her stomach; the same sensation she had gotten every time she aided Addercloud in his medical pursuits. She was unsure of why she had these butterflies; was it excitement? Happiness? Or just discomfort at seeing cats in such pain? Either way, Otterfang knew she loved the work. The stress and pressure and speed of it -- absolute Hell to some cats -- seemed so natural to Otterfang.

Otterfang was patrolling the border alone; plucking herbs from the earth as she went along, thinking of what Addercloud was running low on at the moment. She caught a rabbit; buried it for later.

The molly barely caught that smell; the offending intruder had hidden his own odors quite well. And he was not after her; he hid behind a tree, thinking that the chocolate-pelted warrior had not seen. Otterfang was a SkyClan warrior, of course, so she was soon in the branches; dropping down onto him. He fought back quite valiantly. The battle was bloody; but little of Otterfang's blood was involved. He aimed for her throat; she grabbed him by his, rolling through the grass to use his weight against him. He came down, scared and bloodied and still fighting; a BloodClan cat was not one to give up.

"A-a-all -- th-the sh-shit -- y-you p-put m-me th-through!" she found herself growling, voice at a whisper that only the terrified BloodClan warrior could hear, the tears welling in her eyes as she raked her claws down his chest. He seemed incapacitated; Otterfang stood over him, breathing heavy, trying to figure out what she could possibly do with him. She heard a patrol approaching; with a little nod to herself, she dried her eyes, turning to run and get her clanmates. The group could escort the cat off of their territory once he woke back up. She trotted off, mind heavy; dark memories swimming through her thoughts.

He had pretended to be unconscious.

The BloodClanner pounced on her from behind. Otterfang was not sure how much time passed; what happened in the meantime; but reality skipped like a record. One moment, his claws hooked in her back; the next, hers were buried in his throat, the blood bubbling up from his maw. She felt, for a moment, the same sensations as when she fell asleep for what she believed to be the final time; the room spinning, a deafening buzzing filling her ears, white light filling up her vision. But she staggered; caught herself on her paws, the tears mixing with his blood as they fell, and reality faded in again.

How had she buried him so quickly? Oh -- perhaps it had not been so quickly, for the sky had darkened. What had happened? Had the patrol seen? It seemed as though it had not.

And so Otterfang arrived in SkyClan's camp; when, again, had she turned and gone home? The previous day's events felt like a dream; had they truly happened? Otterfang recalled the burial site; she was unsure, however, if she truly wanted to check on whether or not she had truly done the things she recalled doing. It seemed so much better to assume that the whole thing had been imagined.

"A-Addercloud?" she asked, voice cracking, as she trudged towards his den.

When did she get so tired?

When had she started to sob?

"A-ah, I w-was g-getting b-b-back fr-from a l-late p-patrol -- I w-was g-gonna p-pay you a v-v-visit, b-but your d-d-den was e-empty. S-so I w-went l-looking!" Otterfang admitted, rolling onto her back and looking from Silverpelt to Addercloud. Her eyes were tired, but happy enough; as many flashbacks and nightmares as she had been suffering from, she'd had a fairly decent day on that particular occasion. And she worried as much for Addercloud as he worried for her; if he had not been in his den, she feared that he had wandered off and gotten stolen away by BloodClan like she had been.

Seeing Addercloud filled her with relief; with warmth and love, and she wondered how she had not yet admitted her feelings. Had it not been for Wheatpaw, it would be such a perfect moment.

For a second, she pretended that she had confessed already; that they were in love, that everything was alright and normal.

OOC: //not asking wheaty to leave obvs, that's just... the excuse she's making for herself >_>

"I d-don't know," was Otterfang's response, a chuckle emerging through sobs as she collapsed against him. "I d-d-don't e-even kn-know h-how I g-got b-back," she continued, shaking her head and taking a deep breath. "St-StarClan, wh-what's wr-wrong with m-my br-brain?" the molly questioned, sinking to the floor of Addercloud's den and burying her head in her paws. She decided not to share what she remembered; after all, she was unsure that there was any truth to it -- and what if it was true? That would be a secret that Otterfang took to the grave, surely.

As Otterfang shifted to eat the berries -- an herb she had found herself taking quite a lot lately, both by Addercloud's demands and her own discretion -- she felt her back burn.

Ah, yes. That part, at least, had been real.

The molly did not look at Deadpaw; did not see his glare, quite luckily for her own mental state. She nudged into Addercloud's thick fur; hid her face away in the fluff, which was a somewhat silly thing to look at, Otterfang being a good bit taller and longer than the tom. She did not speak; she had learned that words, when in that state of panic only BloodClan could give her, came out incoherent; that, moreover, opening her mouth to speak was somehow an awful catalyst for the attack's worsening. She did not speak; not for awhile, until the sobs and shakes died down to a state of mild uneasiness.

Finally, she spoke at a whisper.

"A-Addy? W-we c-can't s-s-s-send Poppystar. I-I'll t-t-t-tell y-you wh-why -- l-later -- m-m-maybe?" she halfway-explained, wondering whether or not she could trust her best friend with the information. It would be far, far easier to go back and check the grave with someone by her side, after all; but then again, she did not want to drag poor, peaceful Addercloud down into that mess.

Otterfang was one of the first ones at the scene; she nearly vomited and felt herself spiraling into another panic attack.

Not now. Not now. Please, not now.

And no, she could not conquer it; but, instead, suppressing it best as she could and keeping her eyes straight in front of her, Otterfang leaped in front of Addercloud, acting as a meat-shield for the clan's medicine cat. Her claws hooked in the earth; her green gaze was blank as it could have been, for she was trying her best to swallow all the panic that rose up from her guts. Finally, she steadied herself enough to offer a shaky whisper:

"A-Addy, leave. N-now. H-hide. Th-th-the cl-clan n-needs its m-medicine cat. O-or it w-will -- a-after th-this."

That was the first time her voice was ever stern with her beloved, cherished Addercloud; and the words stung as they slipped through gritted teeth. Otterfang did not turn to face him, for she knew whatever look was on his face could very well send her spiraling back into panic. Her own life and limb at risk in BloodClan's paws was one thing; but Addercloud could not be in danger. Never. Otterfang swore to StarClan in that moment that if his pelt sustained a single scratch, she would kill. Her mind then slipped to the BloodClanner she had semi-accidentally killed and subsequently buried the very night before; she wondered if they had attacked because of him; if she had caused this with her violence. With effort, the molly pushed those thoughts away.

Why was there so much damned BloodClan drama lately?

And why oh why did Otterfang have to see Freya, of all cats, again?

The chocolate molly, in that particular situation, could not contain her panic. No; she had imagined, a million times, seeing Freya again. What she would say; oh, what she would do. And the moment came, and poor Otterfang simply knew she could not open her mouth to speak; she already shook violently, and attempting to say a single thing would most certainly cause her to sob. Otterfang, of course, had not yet approached far enough for the BloodClan cat to spot her; and she happened to catch the tip of Poppystar's tail and sprang after it, ending up in the branch below her with a subpar landing due to all the shaking.

"P-Poppystar," she quietly said, and sure enough, the tears slipped loose.

"H-her -- it's h-h-her," Otterfang whispered, malice in her voice, as she searched in vain for the words to explain what she meant. And there was Deadpaw, speaking alone with her; Otterfang looked worriedly from the apprentice to her leader, trying her best to pull herself back together. She considered, in that moment, pouncing on Freya from the tree; but she had not yet attempted to hurt Deadpaw, it seemed. But oh, her claws ached to sink into Freya's pelt.

"O-oh j-jeez," Otterfang said, quite simply, as a heavy sigh left her maw. "A-are th-th-there herbs f-for f-fainting sp-spells? St-strength herbs, m-maybe? Burnet, r-ragwort?" she asked, gently nudging the fainted cat's shoulder with a chocolate-colored paw. She took a deep whiff of his pelt; assured that there was no lingering BloodClan scent on him, that he neither hailed from the group of murderers or had been attacked by them. "He d-doesn't l-look h-hurt," the molly added, still walking around the cat's unconscious form like a circling hawk.

With Addercloud safely evacuated, Otterfang felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she readied to battle this BloodClan cat. The molly ducked and rolled beneath her attacker's flying paws, aiming to catch one of Lorcan's back legs in her jaws as he leaped. Should that land, she would spring to her feet and put her full weight against the limb; aiming for broken bones.

OOC: So what exactly do you mean by "Cannot be harmed in battle" in Lorcan's tags...? >_>

Aha, you know I am. ;^D

Edit to fix smiley. ; D does not =

Otterfang loved Addercloud with every fiber of her being. With the two of them, it seemed true that opposites attract at first glance; Otterfang was relentlessly determined, ever the fighter, the epitome of warriorhood; Addercloud was meek and sweet and gentle. Their only face-level similarity was their kindness; but even then, the molly was so much more discerning, so much more particular with where she planted the roses of friendship, with where she spent her niceties.

That moment, perhaps, was the most at odds she had ever felt with Addercloud.

She tried to tell herself that he did not know; but she felt the anger sting as it rose like fire in her belly, and before Otterfang knew it, she had sprung from the tree without a second thought, aiming to pin Freya to the grass. If the attack landed, she would stand staring down at Freya; if it missed, she would lock eyes and stare rigidly at the other molly, like the beginnings of a duel.

"Sh-she d-doesn't de-deserve help!" Otterfang found herself growling, the fire growing in her -- overtaking her -- roaring out like dragon's breath in her tone, in the absolute hatred that her voice contained.

"A-Addy, i-i-it's h-her. Sh-she d-did th-th-this t-to m-me! Sh-she w-would ha-ha-have th-thrown me i-i-in a c-cage with d-dogs i-if I ha-hadn't g-gotten away!"

Otterfang, in that moment, desperately did not want Freya to know the full extent of the impact she left on Otterfang. The flashbacks; the dissociation; the panic attacks; the paranoia; the scars; how she quite nearly died due to infected wounds. Otterfang wanted Freya to be powerless, but affecting a cat so deeply, so unshakably -- that was the definition of power. Otterfang's stomach churned when she thought of the night that StarClan turned her away; not due to the pain that had grasped her on that night, but because Addercloud was so distraught, so afraid that everything was his fault -- as much as he tried to hide his concerns, his regrets, his sadness and his anger.

But nothing -- nothing -- bad in the whole damned world was sweet Addercloud's fault. He was motherfucking sacred to her, an innocent and untouched beauty in such an ugly, wartorn world. He was the only remaining good; the only right, the only purity. Otterfang was so worried that she would ruin that lovely, fragile gem; perhaps that was why she had not yet confessed her feelings.

Freya.

That was whose fault it was; whose fault it was that Addercloud had so nearly lost his best friend. Freya -- that was whose fault it was; whose fault it was that Addercloud had suffered so much, had blamed himself.

And in that moment, Ottercloud desperately wanted that BloodClan cat to be dead in the ground.

Lorcan had some sort of StarClan-given power; this, Otterfang would not yet guess. After all, the SkyClan warrior was incredibly trained; she had devoted an unhealthy amount of her life to training, to figuring out what techniques worked best for her particular situation, which happened to be hypotonia. Otterfang's spirit was incredibly strong; her muscles were weak, technically speaking. However, she was flexible -- a benefit of hypotonia, actually -- and accurate and fast and so very practiced. Otterfang had learned, with time, that her best bet was to exhaust an enemy; she certainly could not move a cat with her body. What she could do was move herself around another; acting like something between water and the wind, dodging and feigning and slashing with this incredible sort of precision. She, of course, was not perfect; no cat was. Otterfang did not have talent -- not even a bit, she would say -- but she laughed in talent's face with her practice and her skill! Indeed, a young Otterpaw had been sure that she would never, ever be able to fight for her muscles' failings; but there she was, face-to-face with this Lorcan character. And of all her fears, being beaten was certainly not one.

Cockiness was not the correct term. Otterfang was good. She knew this. It had taken experience, it had taken convincing; but Otterfang had realized her own greatness somewhere along the way.

Otterfang ducked under Lorcan's attack the moment she saw his claws coming, pulling her tail away and aiming a swift scratch to his jaw as well; rushing under his belly with her own to the grass and popping up on his opposite flank, aiming to draw her claws across Lorcan's left eye before he could notice that she had switched sides. The effect of her trained speed and fluidity should have been that of two cats; an attack to his jaw on the right, then one on his left eye before he knew what hit him.

Otterfang ducked under Lorcan's attack again, smirking; she had gotten into a flow of sorts, and thought had disappeared. She popped back up; aimed to slash down his flank with a front paw, then jumped behind him, dropping down and slinking forward, and leaping up again and aiming to hook her claws into his back from behind.

"A-and st-st-stay gone!" Otterfang triumphantly called out, a bit of a smirk forming on her face. It soon fell, however; she looked around at her clanmates with worry in her eyes. "A-alright, wh-wh-who's h-hurt?" she asked, running off to the bushes where Addercloud had been hiding.

Otterfang knew enough herbs; that had been made rather clear, what with all the times she had assisted her best friend, Addercloud. And, at the moment, she was raiding his den.

After all, she visited him frequently -- between sleepovers, medicine lessons, and just helping out with patients. She even organized the herb stores on occasion; and thus, she had made herself and the medicine cat a pile of useful herbs for battle wounds. Cobwebs, comfrey, chervil, dock, goldenrod. She hoped that the two of them would not need to use everything she had pulled out; but it was there, in case they needed it. Otterfang herself had sustained a few scratches; she was tempted to leave them be, but knew Addercloud would nag until she did something about them, so each had a tiny bit of poultice and a few threads of cobweb clinging to it.

The molly poked her head out of the den; tired and injured cats were beginning to arrive back in camp after the assault.

"A-alright, c-c-c-come h-here if y-y-you g-got i-i-injured in the f-f-fight! I-if a-a-anyone c-cant m-move, pl-please br-bring th-them here!" Otterfang announced, wrapping a poultice into a leaf for safe-keeping and quick application. She bit her lip, looking around; where was Addercloud? She desperately hoped he was okay, although awful fears -- his capture, his death -- swam through her head.

//edit for typo