Name ;; Spectre
Gender ;; Male
Sexuality ;; Bisexual
Occupation ;; Doctor
Hobbies ;; Sewing, gardening, studying.
Likes ;; Needles, thread, white, hospitals, baseball.
Dislikes ;; Himself, judgement, death, noise, cramped spaces, mirrors.
Home ;; Apartment, top floor of a rather vacant building. In good condition, if not a bit disheveled. His desk is constantly covered in loads of paperwork.
Song ;; Bad End Night by Vocaloid
Walk Down Memory Lane ;;Spectre's long claws clicked rather loudly on the forbiddingly empty hallway floors. His white lab coat was sitting neatly on his shoulders, falling into it's sleeves which were a pinch too long. It was relieving to be in the hospital when it was peaceful like this, seldom did anyone else come in after hours if it weren't absolutely necessary. After all, Spectre had no problems with working the night shift, so he always did so.
With all the time to himself to think, he quickly found himself lost to his over-imaginative thoughts. Ever since he was a young chick he was able to vividly recall memories, and fabricate false memories or encounters for himself. Lucid dreams were all too common for him, though he thought for some time that the way he was happened to be common. Due to this, he never dared speak up to his parents when the nightmares began to plague him. He figured that all children had nightmares as severe as his, and therefor it'd be silly to bring it up to his folks.
He pondered back to when he was a child, walking down the lane of memories like a tightrope. Childhood was always rough for him to think about for too long. When he was a chick, he was quickly rejected for his bizarre appearance, and as such never had any friends. It'd be fair to say Spectre became a bit mentally ill because of the cruel treatment his classmates gave him, calling him a freak and rejecting him harshly. Other chicks would insult him, humiliate him and harm him if they willed it. He developed a strong hate for all around him, though mostly himself- as he never thought it was their fault, he always thought it was his own fault for being so intimidating.
He developed a fear of mirrors, looking at himself only made him revel and mourn in his own endless loneliness. He also became fascinated with injury and treatment of such, after all he commonly had his own wounds to treat and manage. Spectre wondered if he worked to become something great, someone who'd save lives and help others- that perhaps he could be redeemed in their eyes. Spectre began to wear white more frequently, feeling that the absence of anything covered his garish markings and made him feel a bit more... normal.
Despite his efforts to make friends, when he hit his teenage years he was still completely alone. He became even more involved in his studies, delving deeper into anatomy and death than he had done prior. He could pinpoint the sensitive nerves in his enemies as they neared him, and at this point he realized he was strong. Strong enough to fight back. Strong enough to defend himself. On the very next day when a classmate, fist balled, neared him- Spectre grinned.
The other parra made effort to charge him, though Spectre quickly struck a nerve on his neck that shut him down. He blacked out almost instantly, and the other teenagers around him began to flee. Either feigning calmness and walking out, or running in a mad dash. Now it wasn't only his looks they feared, but his strength and capability. He balled his own fist, his long claws gingerly poking at his feathered palm.
It wasn't long before the teachers got involved. They assumed the worst of Spectre and soon he became a frequenter in the detention room. He kept his grades high regardless, studying core subjects during the day and medical subjects late at night. He began to sleep less and less, having less time as he got older and soon moved into college.
The college that accepted him was rather well pronounced. They'd heard of his troublemaking, but when he interviewed he seemed pleasant enough. His medical knowledge was vast, and they willingly took him in. Spectre had his own dorm room, and took the most difficult courses he could manage. He quickly overloaded himself with classwork, loosing his free time- but he didn't mind. After all now what he'd been using as a pass time had become his full-time school work. This thought gave Spectre the dedication he needed to power through the day, thinking and dreaming of the day his dream would become a reality.
His college classmates respected him, though it soon became apparent that they also feared him. They'd heard of his high school delinquency and when they looked at him they didn't see one of their own, but rather an outsider. Separated from them by vast knowledge and appearance. By this point Spectre had stopped caring what others thought of him, and simply accepted that others would always treat him poorly.
When Spectre finally reached adulthood he'd found a job as a doctor rather quickly. With his massive amounts of classes, graduating early, and hysterically high grades- he could get a job wherever he wanted. He picked a rather large hospital, one he knew he could staff in the depth of night. He enjoyed his co-worker's company, but in the end he wanted space. More than anything he hated crowded hallways, in his mind they were as bad as a cluttered mind.
When he finally snapped out of his dreamy trance it occurred to him that he was in the men's restroom, gazing into the mirror that faced him, he saw the face that'd caused him so much misery and he scowled. He'd always detested himself more than anyone else, and even still the hate for everyone remained hidden in his heart from his time as a chick. Spectre knew somewhere deep inside himself that he wasn't normal. That he wasn't sane. Periodically he'd hear or see things that weren't there, imagine vividly things that didn't exist.
Such as that pesky entity that kept following him around.
Or at least, he was sure it was an entity.
Ever since he was a small child he's been plagued by a ghostly entity in his mind's eye which refers to itself as "Spectre". Spectre himself is entirely sure the ghost-esque creature like the ones depicted in his markings calls himself as such just to mess with the parra, but the ghost simply refuses to accept the notion and simply continues to claim he is indeed Spectre.
Spectre was an imaginary friend of sorts for the parra, whispering into his large ears secrets and crude comments. The ghastly creature was never subtle, never kind and certainly never merciless. It was because of Spectre that the parra finally snapped and began to exercise his power over others. It may also be on account of Spectre that the doctor became so engrossed in his work.
It wasn't until adulthood that he encountered another parra who could see Spectre's ghostly companion.
That parra was, indeed, The Batter, as he called himself.
The Batter encountered Spectre and wordlessly disposed of the ghost accompanying the doctor with his mighty bat. Curiously Spectre felt a weight lifted from his shoulders, became less violent and more easygoing. He mellowed out, though with that also came more selfconciousness and a timid side he didn't know he had. He was still irritable, but less now than he was prior.
Spectre began to follow Caio around, thinking him a saint for saving the parra from his terrible fate.
Why Are Other Parras Scared of Them? ;;Casually glances upwards.
He's a shady doctor who looks really scary, it's not too difficult to guess. u v u