Yoshiaki Kato Nicknames: Ritchie (Chooses to be known by this name whenever possible, and teachers are requested to use Ritche Kato.)
Age: 25
Birthday: May 18th
Gender: Cis male.
Sexuality: Heteroflexible. Always drones on about his dream girlfriend, but publicly sleeps with men, and has crushes on male celebrities/fictional characters.
Category: Student, citizen, villain.
Birth Place/Hometown: America.
Occupation: Writer. Has published short stories in anthologies, and a writing blog where he posts snippets of fiction from a place sneakily based off of his Manta Carlos experiences and the people he meets here. Has a decent following with the second one. Pen name is R. Kato, and the blog/story is called Oddhearted. He also goes on roleplay websites.
Race/Species: Jikininki. Appears and feels to be fully human, to most.
Class: College.
Grade: Second year.
College Major: Creative writing.
Appearance Description
YOSHIAKI? MORE LIKE YO$HIAKI!
YOSHIAKI? MORE LIKE YO$HIAKI!
Ritchie is a young, Japanese-American man. He's five foot eight inches tall, with a skinny and weirdly crooked body type under his clothes, like a dead tree. His eyes are a dark, near black color, and his hair is ash brown. He styles and makes it spikier, because otherwise, it'll just flop in his face, and he's pissy in the morning when he hasn't done his bathroom routine. Don't look at him! He's not properly handsome yet. His smiles tend to be big, exaggerated comedic expressions a norm for him. He has features that are more childish than those of others in his age range, and seems youthful, despite the odd posture. He's farsighted and solely wears glasses to remedy this-- a cute red pair of them!
Ritchie isn't blindingly attractive to most, not particularly special (especially in comparison to the general, smoking-hot-is-normal Manta Carlos population), but he very notably cares about his appearance, making near constant effort to look nice and well groomed. He tends to wear expensive outfits that imply he has more money than he actually does. His whole aesthetic screams geeky writer in a coffee shop on his macbook pro, but at least he's stylish! At home, he'll wear nerd t-shirts (which he seems to have an endless supply of) and pajama pants.
The Jikininki form is as you'd expect it to be. A disgusting, unrecognizable, rotting corpse that's more on the eerie side than some zombies might be, as well as covered with unsavory scars and infections. Far, far from a pretty sight. It has sharp piercing claws/teeth, and red eyes that glow through the dark nights.
Personality Description
The short way to describe Ritchie is that... he's a complete, ugly, messy, difficult clusterfuck. He makes dealing with this hard on himself and everyone else, because whether he wants or believes he can be helped is entirely up for debate. Usually, the answer is no. There is not a single part of Ritchie that likes himself. His negative personality traits outweigh the positive by far, as does the sheer level of shit that went down in his past, but will most people be aware of this?
Nah. They won't, not at all. Ritchie likes keeping those around him clueless, thanks to his trust issues and the way he was raised. The concept of someone getting glimpses of his severe depression, self hatred, and trauma terrifies him out of his mind, and he's already a huge coward. The only hints toward it tend to show if you pay close attention to his writing-- which is most often supernatural horror, with a strong psychological and character focus-- and how quickly he'll grasp darker aspects of someone else's life story when listening to it.
Speaking of. Ritchie is obsessed with stories! They've always been a beautiful escape or more significant, less pointless take on human suffering for him. He loves books and the experiences of people he meets the most by far, but he's a fan of it all, a big ol' nerdlord. His favorite hobby, outside of dork nonsense, is being a nosy jackass. He will leech and soak up every detail about you that he can. History, personality and quirks, likes and dislikes, hopes, dreams, nightmares, talents. He'll badger people to the point of being painfully obnoxious, and has made enemies from that. He's a huge fucking hypocrite in this, too, seeing how he treats his own story as forbidden territory (and will leave rooms or outright snap if poked sometimes), but his excuse for this tends to be that he thinks of himself as the narrator. Let him hear, appreciate, and retell your story. He's not supposed to be the focus, but you can trust him to give a deeper meaning and insight on what you've been through. Ritchie isn't good at talking about his own shit, but he's a spectacular listener. As long as you don't mind the chance of being immortalized in his writing.
Ritchie doesn't keep people at a distance by trying to come across as a loner. He has way better luck being left alone by playing up a goofy best friend type reputation, because nobody thinks to look past that. If you don't mind parts of his outward personality getting grating and annoying from time to time, he's pretty damn easy to get along with. Very go with the flow, chipper kind of guy and someone you could fondly roll your eyes at-- though sometimes a bit brash. He's also the obvious oddball artist type, with a definite affinity for quirk collecting, but this at least seems to entertain others. It entertains him, too. Ritchie enjoys chances to add a new strange trait or fun fact to the collection that makes up his persona, because it distracts others, makes him stand out to them in a way that isn't dangerous, and fills in the dry blank parts of his identity. His role is typically the weird friend, the nerd friend, or both at once.
Some quirks include: Chattering about his ideal girlfriend, which he'll clearly never have, because he's hilariously terrible with girls- he's not a total asshole about it, but he's dumb with his flirting, uses bad pick up lines, and is childish. Not the bachelor of the year. He seems to outright have better luck with guys, too, despite saying he's straight. Being pretty amusingly greedy, even for small amounts of cash. You can bribe him to do a lot for a couple of dollars. His money tends to be spent fast, and he'll complain about being broke (it's his own fault), but then get more money to repeat the process with all over again. His fussiness with his appearance. Loudly fighting with random people in comic stores over who knows the most trivia that doesn't matter. Being comically petty, and writing real people that screw with him as villainous or pitiful characters in stories. And despite writing about horror extensively, he's a shameless scaredy cat.
Species traits/Powers
Jikininki
Jikininki
A type of spirit from Japanese Buddhism, demons that have been cursed after their death for being selfish and despicable in life. At night, they have to seek out and eat human corpses, and typically aren't happy about it, doing this against their will. They scavenge firstly for the recently deceased and food offerings left for them. Looting corpses they eat for valuables can be useful, as they'll then bribe local officials to look the other way and let them get away with the disgusting ways they survive.
Ritchie is stronger like this, which is a bit funny, as his body is gruesomely decomposed and thin, but it isn't focused on doing things like lifting cars so much as it is for hunting, speed and endurance, putting force behind attacks. He can't speak while monstrous, only make horrid noises and piercing shrieks. His ability to smell and taste are the strongest of his senses, honed in on blood and death. He's not unintelligent like this, but it's not quite the same intelligence he has when human, more animalistic and predatory based. His teeth are strong enough to crunch through any part of a human body, claws good for ambushes and digging up graves.
He can only change into this form after nightfall, now that he's adjusted to his glamour and daily life, and wouldn't have it any other way-- he prefers to minimize his time spent as such an ugly thing. In the day, he keeps his sense of smell and taste, but is functionally an ordinary human, aside from that and his sight. As a spirit himself, Ritchie can see and sometimes communicate with ghosts and similar such things that are invisible to a normal person's eye. If he smells too much blood in the daytime, it'll mostly just drive him nuts, make him lose some of his sense of self and coordination, but he won't be able to actually turn before dark.
Ritchie doesn't have to eat corpses every night. Once a week, at the least, though he'll be jittery and inappropriate, so it's better to give in and eat more. He tries to plan, have certain days of the week and times and night he sneaks out on... but he barely sleeps even when he isn't out, fearing that he'll turn into a corpse if he lets his guard down. It's okay, because he doesn't truly need to sleep, but not doing so can still be uncomfortable, as can be putting off other typical human needs. It won't kill him, but it doesn't do him any good, either. The corpse eating, however, isn't something Ritchie has a choice in. He has to hunt for the dead regularly and eat them whole, it's in his nature, something he's aware of and screams in the face of, but that can't be resisted or stopped as long as he stays a restless spirit. He turns rather rabid.
Ritchie can be made to pass on through remembrances and offerings, or through the prayers of a righteous individual that has a truly holy spirit and has done nothing to dishonor their family. But he doesn't want to die again, so he'll avoid any attempts to forcefully have him move on. He's weak to salt when in monster form, and does get a little nauseous while human when food has too much salt.
Paralyzing visage
In his corpse form, Ritchie is a horrifying sight with the sense of unnatural crawling all over him, to the point that mortals will be frozen in fear when he's up close and eating in front of them. This can wear off the longer they're exposed to him, but when he's nearby it'll last long enough for him to gobble down a body and leave again. He'd rather avoid being seen in the first place, of course.
Hiding in plain sight
Since Ritchie's true form is that of a corpse, a cursed spirit, he has to use special magic to blend in, what some would call a powerful glamour. When he looks human, he also feels human, acts human, and smells human. Those that can fight powerful illusions with their own magic and see through it would be able to tell that Ritchie is undead, but usually, not be able to then pin down what kind of undead in particular, which works out just fine for him. If the matter of why he's here is really pried into, he'll say he's undead, but leave it as simple as that.
Biography
tw: racism, mail order brides, self harm, abuse, csa, noncon, suicide, cannibalism, heavy dark themes.
tw: racism, mail order brides, self harm, abuse, csa, noncon, suicide, cannibalism, heavy dark themes.
Ritchie's life hasn't been a walk in the park. Constant hell, more like, of his own creation and otherwise. Not even dying has changed much. To start from the beginning, his mother was a young, beautiful Japanese woman who wanted to have a better life. She was from a difficult situation, and although Ritchie never heard the specifics (as she wanted to leave the past behind her), she considered becoming what she had an escape. After a wealthy man was set up with her online, he flew to Japan to marry and take her back to America as his wife.
It was only after she moved in with the man that she discovered he was a con artist. It didn't bother her. As long as he could put money on the table and play proper businessman, it was fine, even beneficial. They had two children, both boys. Ritchie was the younger between the two, his brother four years older. His two earliest memories of his dad are his saying 'Yoshiaki, bit of a mouthful, how about... Ritchie? Richard junior!'— never using his real name again, after that, with his brother copying it--, and teaching him what the best kind of cowards were-- ambitious cowards.
While they were both raised to follow in their father's footsteps as a criminal, Ritchie's older brother was accepted into a well known college once he graduated highschool, always one for good grades and excellence. Not like Ritchie, who spent his days with his head in the clouds, more on the lazy and indulgent side than efficient like his brother. He seemed as though he should've been just as intelligent, looking at the way he greedily went through thick books in the timespan of a mere day or hours-- but it turned out he only showed real focus in things that interested him, or that he figured could get him very easy cash. When given the chance to put extra effort into something, he'd either half ass or outright snub it.
Truthfully, he was easily burnt out, and more sensitive than his brother. All the horrible things they saw, the wrongful actions inflicted on others to elevate themselves, it left him feeling stuck and sick. Too stunned and hurt to look away, and too scared of his father to go against him, despite how much his insides screamed. When he realized his brother had a chance to actually get away from that life, through college and all his superiority, he started to grow painfully jealous. He had meltdowns at his sibling before the man had to leave, accusing him of leaving him behind, of being selfish like their father was. His brother rushed to assure him that wasn't the case, and that once he had a college education, he'd be able to get a job, a legal, respected job, and better support the both of them.
All Ritchie had to do was wait, and it'd be taken care of, that was what his brother had told him. And he'd listened. Like a fool. After trusting his brother, Ritchie coped with having to be patient and wait it out by becoming more ruthless, starting to enjoy the cons. When working, he was smug, as money obsessed as his dad, and shamelessly preoccupied with saving his own skin. When alone, he'd break, sinking into a mix of heavy self loathing and apathy. If he wasn't disassociating, he'd hurt himself. At least, at least, his brother was doing fine with college, and their father was only paying attention to Ritchie. Then, something unplanned for happened, and it was all further screwed up.
An illness caught their mother off guard, and she had to be moved to the hospital. They didn't do very well with the treatment, however much money the family patriarch threw at the problem. Ritchie was very quiet and solemn through this, though he brother grew frustrated, more emotional than he'd ever seen. A year passed, and then, their mother died. Ritchie's brother switched ambitions, and went into medical school, in his frustration, wanting to research the way she'd passed and how to prevent it in the future. He moved forward.
And forgot Ritchie in the process. Medical school added even more years and distraction and stomped out Ritchie's hopes of being able to run away with his brother any time soon. He kept hope. He kept some sliver of hope that if he outlasted this, he could escape it. Endure and survive, no matter how much he just wanted to end it and let himself down easy. However, with he and his father being the only ones left in the otherwise empty feeling house (and it was already cold), bad things started happening.
As awful as his father was, his mother had managed to ground the man, in a way. Soften him. She wasn't here anymore, but he missed her, in an objectifying sort of way. And Ritchie looked a lot like his mother-- more than his brother did by far. His dad noticed that, and in an almost delirious way, started to mistake him for her. If he didn't want to do things a wife should do, he was beaten for it, or forced, and talked to. The talking was almost the worst, because it made it clear to Ritchie that it'd been what his mother had experienced, too. And so, he hated his father, he hated himself, he hated his brother for leaving him alone with this man while caring more for the already dead, and he even hated his mother a little for thinking it was all worth it just to give them a little more money and life in America. But only a little.
Ritchie never really got used to what was happening, but he gained a skill in seeming outwardly numb, even normal. He also stopped believing his father wasn't fully aware of what he was doing. His brother never knew what had been happening, and Ritchie didn't want the bastard to know. He wouldn't save him, he'd just pity him, then make false promises. He was sick of that, and thinking of killing himself more and more every day that went by, every time his father touched him, and every time he saw his brother's stupid smug face. The face of a man with a future, friends, even a girlfriend.
And this girlfriend caught Ritchie's attention. Her name was Hannah. On holidays, she'd be with them, making it feel less empty, letting Ritchie forget his situation a little through her presence. He fell in love with her, having deep conversations about books and people that'd continue long over on social media. At times, he was speaking with Hannah more than his brother did, who was prone to burying himself in work and blocking out all else. Ritchie started getting more independent, thanks to having a more attainable feeling motivation. When Hannah was feeling lonely, he'd visit her, managing to weasel free time out of his dad by excelling in their work or playing perfect wifey. He didn't feel as dirty when he was doing it to see Hannah.
On his eighteenth birthday, Ritchie confessed to Hannah, and she told him she felt the same way. However, she also told him she didn't want to leave his brother right then, not when he was dealing with the stress of starting medical school, but that they could still be together in secret. He didn't doubt her for a second, didn't have it in his heart to. He was desperate for something to hope for again, despite what had happened the first time. He could give a second chance. He hadn't experienced much of the world yet, and surely it couldn't all be harsh. Not her. Not Hannah. She was the sweetest, most gentle thing he'd had in his life, and he wasn't about to give that up so easily.
So he waited, those next four years, more faithfully than before, trying to trust again. When they were alone, he even let her call him his real name, which was one of the most intimate things for him, a protected thing that only his mother had used before. He was crazy in love with Hannah, and wanted to marry and run away with her as soon as possible. The fantasy uplifted him and perhaps, gave him unhealthy obsession-- but nobody could blame Ritchie for being unhealthy, at this point, after everything he'd been through.
Once his brother was done with school, Ritchie couldn't contain himself. He was manic and impulsive. He was done waiting! He made a few very, very big bad decisions. Knowing he wanted to run away with Hannah, but that he had no job of his own and didn't want to turn back to crime when he escaped, he decided he needed a way to support them both and show her he was serious. He got into his father's stash, and he stole it all, anything he could. It was flashy, and stupid, but it was an ambitious coward's move. Except, it didn't go as planned, and the ambitious coward his father was had never really been something to admire or copy. Ritchie figured that out far too late.
Ritchie was twenty-two when he proposed to Hannah, frantically tried to get her to run off with him and his father's money, and ended up dead. She cracked under the pressure, under her affair with her boyfriend's kid brother becoming all too real. She'd loved him when she was lonely, when it was easy to forget, to fool herself, to want to feel like someone cared. Now, they both cared, but the winner was Ritchie's brother. She loved him whether he was around or not, she discovered, thought of him while with Ritchie, but didn't think of Ritchie at all when properly spending time with his brother. Ritchie's childish, desperate nature and actions frightened her. She wasn't ready for this. It was insane. When they'd talked, she'd thought of any plans they made as rose colored daydreams that weren't real when they weren't talking. She told Ritchie as much.
He broke. He'd been so certain of this, of her, that he'd placed his life upon the plan. He could've ran on his own, but he knew he was all screwed and twisted up inside, didn't think he could function without someone to help him. And there was nobody to help him. He'd trusted again, and been betrayed again, and didn't think he could survive in a world like that. None of his stories were real, and they never would be. What was the point? Sobbing and furious, knowing his father would come after him if he stayed, knowing he couldn't see a future for himself if he left, Ritchie shot Hannah in a last burst of outrage and bitterness, wanting to ruin both the person who'd hurt him-- and leave his brother alone and suffering. A curse for the man, a shitty legacy that'd remain beyond the grave. Why not, right? And Ritchie was happy to kill himself, once she was dead. Happy to leave his father without a fucking wife, and to give up any responsibility of the murder he'd committed. To not hurt any more. To finally have peace.
It didn't work out that way. Greedy, selfish, and with one last violent breakdown before his death, Ritchie became a disgusting, rabid Jikininki. Every night, against his will, his instincts took over and made him consume corpses, fresh and old, and sometimes even the living if it seemed like the monster could win in an attack. He hated himself more than ever, but he found that oddly enough, he didn't want to die again. When ghost and monster hunter types were attracted to his activities, he was terrified, and the magic that'd allow him to hide manifested. Powerful glamour. He could take a completely convincing human form, though he now worried his father and brother would find him again.
His coward's nature kicked in over his more ghostly inclination to stay close to where he passed and called home, and he traveled. He didn't have any time to appreciate the beautiful sights, as he was too busy drowning in dread over his state and late night activities, but he did start to keep a journal about his experiences. It was good for venting, and could give him an outside appreciation of it, always intrigued by the fantastical. He started to wonder, if Jikininki were real, what else was?
The answer didn't take forever to present itself to him. After some continued digging around and talking to people, Ritchie's curiosity was noticed, and he was approached by a Starlight Academy scout. He took his mother's last name and went with them. As pessimistic as he was, secretly, Ritchie continued to seek out things to hold on to. He arrived at Manta Carlos when twenty-four years old, and after he faked his way through some therapy, started college.
Despite moving forward and having a new life, along with exciting surroundings-- as his ghost status would suggest, Ritchie is haunted and cursed by his past and present. He's not optimistic for the future, but hey... he's here anyway. That counts for something, right?
It was only after she moved in with the man that she discovered he was a con artist. It didn't bother her. As long as he could put money on the table and play proper businessman, it was fine, even beneficial. They had two children, both boys. Ritchie was the younger between the two, his brother four years older. His two earliest memories of his dad are his saying 'Yoshiaki, bit of a mouthful, how about... Ritchie? Richard junior!'— never using his real name again, after that, with his brother copying it--, and teaching him what the best kind of cowards were-- ambitious cowards.
While they were both raised to follow in their father's footsteps as a criminal, Ritchie's older brother was accepted into a well known college once he graduated highschool, always one for good grades and excellence. Not like Ritchie, who spent his days with his head in the clouds, more on the lazy and indulgent side than efficient like his brother. He seemed as though he should've been just as intelligent, looking at the way he greedily went through thick books in the timespan of a mere day or hours-- but it turned out he only showed real focus in things that interested him, or that he figured could get him very easy cash. When given the chance to put extra effort into something, he'd either half ass or outright snub it.
Truthfully, he was easily burnt out, and more sensitive than his brother. All the horrible things they saw, the wrongful actions inflicted on others to elevate themselves, it left him feeling stuck and sick. Too stunned and hurt to look away, and too scared of his father to go against him, despite how much his insides screamed. When he realized his brother had a chance to actually get away from that life, through college and all his superiority, he started to grow painfully jealous. He had meltdowns at his sibling before the man had to leave, accusing him of leaving him behind, of being selfish like their father was. His brother rushed to assure him that wasn't the case, and that once he had a college education, he'd be able to get a job, a legal, respected job, and better support the both of them.
All Ritchie had to do was wait, and it'd be taken care of, that was what his brother had told him. And he'd listened. Like a fool. After trusting his brother, Ritchie coped with having to be patient and wait it out by becoming more ruthless, starting to enjoy the cons. When working, he was smug, as money obsessed as his dad, and shamelessly preoccupied with saving his own skin. When alone, he'd break, sinking into a mix of heavy self loathing and apathy. If he wasn't disassociating, he'd hurt himself. At least, at least, his brother was doing fine with college, and their father was only paying attention to Ritchie. Then, something unplanned for happened, and it was all further screwed up.
An illness caught their mother off guard, and she had to be moved to the hospital. They didn't do very well with the treatment, however much money the family patriarch threw at the problem. Ritchie was very quiet and solemn through this, though he brother grew frustrated, more emotional than he'd ever seen. A year passed, and then, their mother died. Ritchie's brother switched ambitions, and went into medical school, in his frustration, wanting to research the way she'd passed and how to prevent it in the future. He moved forward.
And forgot Ritchie in the process. Medical school added even more years and distraction and stomped out Ritchie's hopes of being able to run away with his brother any time soon. He kept hope. He kept some sliver of hope that if he outlasted this, he could escape it. Endure and survive, no matter how much he just wanted to end it and let himself down easy. However, with he and his father being the only ones left in the otherwise empty feeling house (and it was already cold), bad things started happening.
As awful as his father was, his mother had managed to ground the man, in a way. Soften him. She wasn't here anymore, but he missed her, in an objectifying sort of way. And Ritchie looked a lot like his mother-- more than his brother did by far. His dad noticed that, and in an almost delirious way, started to mistake him for her. If he didn't want to do things a wife should do, he was beaten for it, or forced, and talked to. The talking was almost the worst, because it made it clear to Ritchie that it'd been what his mother had experienced, too. And so, he hated his father, he hated himself, he hated his brother for leaving him alone with this man while caring more for the already dead, and he even hated his mother a little for thinking it was all worth it just to give them a little more money and life in America. But only a little.
Ritchie never really got used to what was happening, but he gained a skill in seeming outwardly numb, even normal. He also stopped believing his father wasn't fully aware of what he was doing. His brother never knew what had been happening, and Ritchie didn't want the bastard to know. He wouldn't save him, he'd just pity him, then make false promises. He was sick of that, and thinking of killing himself more and more every day that went by, every time his father touched him, and every time he saw his brother's stupid smug face. The face of a man with a future, friends, even a girlfriend.
And this girlfriend caught Ritchie's attention. Her name was Hannah. On holidays, she'd be with them, making it feel less empty, letting Ritchie forget his situation a little through her presence. He fell in love with her, having deep conversations about books and people that'd continue long over on social media. At times, he was speaking with Hannah more than his brother did, who was prone to burying himself in work and blocking out all else. Ritchie started getting more independent, thanks to having a more attainable feeling motivation. When Hannah was feeling lonely, he'd visit her, managing to weasel free time out of his dad by excelling in their work or playing perfect wifey. He didn't feel as dirty when he was doing it to see Hannah.
On his eighteenth birthday, Ritchie confessed to Hannah, and she told him she felt the same way. However, she also told him she didn't want to leave his brother right then, not when he was dealing with the stress of starting medical school, but that they could still be together in secret. He didn't doubt her for a second, didn't have it in his heart to. He was desperate for something to hope for again, despite what had happened the first time. He could give a second chance. He hadn't experienced much of the world yet, and surely it couldn't all be harsh. Not her. Not Hannah. She was the sweetest, most gentle thing he'd had in his life, and he wasn't about to give that up so easily.
So he waited, those next four years, more faithfully than before, trying to trust again. When they were alone, he even let her call him his real name, which was one of the most intimate things for him, a protected thing that only his mother had used before. He was crazy in love with Hannah, and wanted to marry and run away with her as soon as possible. The fantasy uplifted him and perhaps, gave him unhealthy obsession-- but nobody could blame Ritchie for being unhealthy, at this point, after everything he'd been through.
Once his brother was done with school, Ritchie couldn't contain himself. He was manic and impulsive. He was done waiting! He made a few very, very big bad decisions. Knowing he wanted to run away with Hannah, but that he had no job of his own and didn't want to turn back to crime when he escaped, he decided he needed a way to support them both and show her he was serious. He got into his father's stash, and he stole it all, anything he could. It was flashy, and stupid, but it was an ambitious coward's move. Except, it didn't go as planned, and the ambitious coward his father was had never really been something to admire or copy. Ritchie figured that out far too late.
Ritchie was twenty-two when he proposed to Hannah, frantically tried to get her to run off with him and his father's money, and ended up dead. She cracked under the pressure, under her affair with her boyfriend's kid brother becoming all too real. She'd loved him when she was lonely, when it was easy to forget, to fool herself, to want to feel like someone cared. Now, they both cared, but the winner was Ritchie's brother. She loved him whether he was around or not, she discovered, thought of him while with Ritchie, but didn't think of Ritchie at all when properly spending time with his brother. Ritchie's childish, desperate nature and actions frightened her. She wasn't ready for this. It was insane. When they'd talked, she'd thought of any plans they made as rose colored daydreams that weren't real when they weren't talking. She told Ritchie as much.
He broke. He'd been so certain of this, of her, that he'd placed his life upon the plan. He could've ran on his own, but he knew he was all screwed and twisted up inside, didn't think he could function without someone to help him. And there was nobody to help him. He'd trusted again, and been betrayed again, and didn't think he could survive in a world like that. None of his stories were real, and they never would be. What was the point? Sobbing and furious, knowing his father would come after him if he stayed, knowing he couldn't see a future for himself if he left, Ritchie shot Hannah in a last burst of outrage and bitterness, wanting to ruin both the person who'd hurt him-- and leave his brother alone and suffering. A curse for the man, a shitty legacy that'd remain beyond the grave. Why not, right? And Ritchie was happy to kill himself, once she was dead. Happy to leave his father without a fucking wife, and to give up any responsibility of the murder he'd committed. To not hurt any more. To finally have peace.
It didn't work out that way. Greedy, selfish, and with one last violent breakdown before his death, Ritchie became a disgusting, rabid Jikininki. Every night, against his will, his instincts took over and made him consume corpses, fresh and old, and sometimes even the living if it seemed like the monster could win in an attack. He hated himself more than ever, but he found that oddly enough, he didn't want to die again. When ghost and monster hunter types were attracted to his activities, he was terrified, and the magic that'd allow him to hide manifested. Powerful glamour. He could take a completely convincing human form, though he now worried his father and brother would find him again.
His coward's nature kicked in over his more ghostly inclination to stay close to where he passed and called home, and he traveled. He didn't have any time to appreciate the beautiful sights, as he was too busy drowning in dread over his state and late night activities, but he did start to keep a journal about his experiences. It was good for venting, and could give him an outside appreciation of it, always intrigued by the fantastical. He started to wonder, if Jikininki were real, what else was?
The answer didn't take forever to present itself to him. After some continued digging around and talking to people, Ritchie's curiosity was noticed, and he was approached by a Starlight Academy scout. He took his mother's last name and went with them. As pessimistic as he was, secretly, Ritchie continued to seek out things to hold on to. He arrived at Manta Carlos when twenty-four years old, and after he faked his way through some therapy, started college.
Despite moving forward and having a new life, along with exciting surroundings-- as his ghost status would suggest, Ritchie is haunted and cursed by his past and present. He's not optimistic for the future, but hey... he's here anyway. That counts for something, right?
Extra
Worst Memory: Killing his first love and himself, all the times his father took advantage of him, his father giving him the nickname Ritchie, his brother getting into college.
Best Memory: Reading his favorite books over and over as a child.
Likes: Writing, stories, money, fashion, gifts, anything expensive, anime, reviewing books.
Dislikes: Himself, the relevant people in his past, exercise.
Weaknesses: Depression and suicidal ideation, greedy, cowardly, nosy, petty, lazy, trust issues, a whole bundle of issues in general.
Strengths: Creative, humorous, the ability to fake it 'til you make it, an ambitious coward.
Fears: Intimacy, dying a second time.
Habits/Hobbies: Online roleplaying, video games, shopping, eating.
Skills/Talents: Writing, con artist's skill set.
Additional Information
He has a journal on his phone, which he documents his daily life in (with a brutal honesty), and that he regularly bases his blog writing off of-- with a few changes here and there.
The reason he goes by Ritchie is that his real first name is very personal for him, so he doesn't give it out casually in the slightest. He also uses his father's nickname for him as a form of self punishment, to hurt and remind himself he's not so different from his old man. I'm so sorry for this difficult clusterfuck geek child in a grown man's body.