Oh, don't mind me. I am just a nice raccoon from the neighborhood, here to mess with your trash cans and scatter your garbage over the front yard.
What, that is my life style! You not like it? Try to stop me.
🌪️ Core Personality Traits
Jessica is a walking whirlwind of disorder. She doesn’t plan much ahead — she acts on impulse, leaving a trail of chaos behind her. If there’s a room, alley, or kitchen she’s been in, you’ll know — things will be scattered, knocked over, and maybe missing entirely.
Example: She breaks into a bakery not for valuables, but because she smelled fresh pastries... and by the time she leaves, flour is everywhere, shelves are overturned, and she's walking out with her face full of cream filling.
She’s not subtle. Jessica doesn’t tiptoe — she stomps in, grabs what she wants, and doesn’t care who’s watching. She thrives on attention, especially the kind that comes from getting caught red-handed.
She lives for trouble. Not the cruel kind — but playful, prankster energy. She enjoys getting reactions out of people, especially if they’re flustered, annoyed, or shocked. If she can push a button just to see what happens, she will.
Jessica is absolutely ruled by her stomach. She will go anywhere, do anything, and break any rule for food — particularly tasty or interesting snacks. It's the core of her motivations, more than money or even fun.
She doesn’t feel guilty about the chaos she causes. She believes people take life too seriously and has little patience for those who scold her. If someone gets mad? She shrugs, smirks, and probably takes something else just to spite them.
Jessica knows how the world works, especially the underground or less formal parts of society. She’s clever and adaptive, good at reading people, spotting opportunities, and slipping away when things get too hot.
She’s full of bounce and energy — often literally. Jessica fidgets, moves fast, and rarely sits still. Her raccoon traits shine through in her twitchy tail, curious eyes, and constant need to explore or mess with things.
Jessica doesn't open up easily. She jokes and flirts to deflect, and avoids serious emotional topics. She’s used to relying on herself and assumes most people can’t keep up with her lifestyle.
Once someone earns her trust — which isn’t easy — Jessica becomes fiercely loyal. She may still be chaotic, but she’ll go out of her way to protect or help someone she cares about… usually in her own destructive, backwards way.
She doesn’t like relying on anyone. Jessica is self-sufficient, but also stubborn. She’ll refuse help even when she clearly needs it, and has trouble admitting when she’s vulnerable or in over her head.
🧠 Optional Quirks
Talks with her mouth full (especially if it’s something she just swiped).
Sniffs things she finds suspicious or interesting.
Uses her tail to knock things off tables — sometimes out of curiosity, sometimes out of spite.
Has a hoard of random shiny or food-related things in her home.
🦝 Species-Like Abilities (Raccoon Kemonomimi)
These are abilities common to her species, whether instinctual, physical, or sensory-based.
Raccoons are known for their ultra-dexterous paws. Jessica's hands are incredibly agile — she can pick locks, steal things unnoticed (when she wants to), untie knots, or disassemble stuff quickly.
Jessica can see extremely well in low light, giving her an advantage in nighttime escapades — sneaking around alleyways, navigating rooftops, or rummaging through trash bins under the moonlight.
She can smell food from blocks away and identify scents others can't — such as spices, rotting food, or even someone’s specific snack choice. This makes her a natural food hunter… and a pain to hide treats from.
Raccoons are fantastic climbers, and so is Jessica. She can scale buildings, fences, trees, or walls with ease. Her tail gives her balance, and her body is built for quick, acrobatic movements.
Parkour-Style Mobility: Think alley cat mixed with a street thief — she’s practically born for rooftop hopping.
Jessica has an almost sixth-sense for where to find discarded, lost, or hidden food and items. She gravitates toward dumpsters, storage rooms, vents, and forgotten shelves like a magnet.
🛠️ Personal Skills
These are things she picked up over time due to her lifestyle, habits, and street smarts.
Jessica knows how to live off the streets — scavenging, hiding, sneaking, and escaping authority or danger. She’s the queen of knowing which alleys are safe, which restaurants toss the best leftovers, and which stores forget to lock their dumpster lids.
Bonus: She’s always one step ahead of trouble... barely.
Thanks to her raccoon dexterity and curious nature, Jessica is a natural at breaking into places. She's not exactly subtle, but she's effective.
Types of Locks: Basic doors, padlocks, food cabinets, vending machines.
Though not trained in formal combat, Jessica has fast reflexes and uses anything around her as a weapon — bottles, broomsticks, even food trays.
Combat Style: Improvised brawler with a street-smart edge. Think "scrappy bar fight" energy.
She excels at causing diversions — knocking over trash cans, starting loud arguments, or using smoke bombs or food smells to lure people away. Escaping tight spots is her specialty.
Signature Move: Throw something loud, yell something dumb, run like hell.
Jessica has a secret stash somewhere — a den, a hidden room, or even a locker — filled with food, tools, trinkets, and random shiny objects. She remembers where everything is and what it might be useful for.
Bonus Trait: Can always find something helpful in her stash — duct tape, snacks, coins, stolen keycards, etc.
🎯 Unique Ability: “Trash Dive”
A personal, borderline comical skill where she can dive into any pile of trash, storage, or clutter and emerge a minute later with exactly what she needs (or something better). No one knows how it works. Not even her.
🍼 Early Life – A Street-Born Survivor
Jessica was born in the backstreets of Metrocity, one of many kemonomimi children left to fend for themselves in the city’s poorer districts. Her parents — both raccoon kemonomimi — vanished when she was still very young. Whether they ran off, got caught up in crime, or simply couldn't care for her is a mystery Jessica stopped trying to solve a long time ago.
She grew up on the margins — alleyways, rooftops, train stations, and the dumpsters behind bakeries were her home. While human society offered systems for homeless kids, Jessica was too wild, too stubborn, and too clever to ever stay in the shelters. Every time she was taken in, she’d escape by the end of the week — food was better on the streets anyway.
🧷 Learning the Hustle
By age 10, Jessica had already made a name for herself as a mischievous food thief. She became infamous in certain neighborhoods: the “Trash Raccoon Girl” who could sneak into anywhere, take anything edible, and leave behind only chaos and crumbs. Store owners complained, but locals couldn’t help but laugh — and sometimes even gave her leftovers just to avoid a mess.
She didn’t steal for luxury — she stole to eat. And if she found something shiny, weird, or fun along the way, well, bonus.
Her instincts, reflexes, and sharp mind made her a natural at navigating city life. She quickly developed:
A network of safe places — abandoned buildings, forgotten rooftops, hidden vents.
A stash — deep in the industrial district, where she keeps everything from snack food to "borrowed" gadgets.
A code — never steal from those who have little, but corporations, rich snobs, and overpriced restaurants? Fair game.
🐾 The Tail That Got Her Famous
At some point, someone filmed her escaping a grocery store with three baguettes in her mouth, her tail swinging wildly behind her as she ran down the street, scattering trash cans in her wake. The video went viral.
Suddenly, she wasn’t just a local menace — she was a meme, a citywide folk legend.
People started calling her:
“The Raccoon Rogue”
“Metrocity’s Masked Menace”
“Panda Express” (she hates that one because she is no Panda)
She leaned into it — partially because she thought it was hilarious, and partially because it gave her more freedom. If everyone expected chaos, then chaos became her cover.
❤️ Who Is Jessica Now?
Now in her early 20s, Jessica’s still living fast and wild. She doesn’t have a “job,” but she knows how to get by. Sometimes she’ll help someone out — if there's food involved. Sometimes she’ll cause total mayhem — because it’s fun.
She's known to local police as a "non-dangerous nuisance." Some officers even like her, others absolutely do not.
Despite her rough start, she’s not angry at the world — just constantly hungry, always curious, and allergic to sitting still. Deep down, she wonders if there’s more to life than trash diving and stolen pastries... but she hasn’t found a reason to slow down yet.
Report filed by Officer Nathan Rell, Metrocity P.D.
I knew it was going to be one of those nights the second dispatch said the words:
“Suspect is female, kemonomimi, raccoon-type. Last seen bolting out of a corner store on 9th and Silver, holding a bag of... hot dogs?”
Damn it. Jessica Smith.
Again.
“Let’s move!” I barked at the team, already heading for the squad car. Garcia groaned as he slammed the passenger door shut. “What’s that, the third time this week?”
“Fifth,” I muttered, gunning the engine.
By the time we reached the corner store, the place looked like a cartoon tornado had hit it. Shelves overturned. Mustard on the walls. One of those dancing promotional mascots for soda? Broken in half. The clerk was outside, red-faced and pointing frantically down the alley.
“She ran that way! Said something about 'liberating the meat' and threw a pickle jar at me!”
Yeah. That sounded like her.
We chased her across four blocks of downtown — tail flashing behind her like a flag, hot dog bag swinging wildly in one hand. She moved like water, slipping through fences, bouncing off dumpsters, sending trash cans flying as she passed. People were yelling, laughing, filming on their damn phones.
By the time we cornered her near the docks, she had led us into a maze of shipping containers, scrap heaps, and the occasional stray cat.
“Freeze!” I yelled, weapon drawn.
She did stop — for about half a second. Looked back at us over her shoulder, panting, that damn raccoon grin on her face. Cheeks stuffed with food like she hadn’t eaten in days. Probably hadn’t. Or maybe she just liked eating like that.
And then she bolted again.
We followed. We had to. That was the job.
But here’s where things went sideways.
She ducked into an old warehouse — abandoned on paper, but every cop in the district knew that didn’t mean empty. The second we burst in after her, the whole place shifted.
Voices. Movement. Men stepping out of the shadows with bats, machetes, and worse. Not street punks — organized. Tattoos. Earpieces. One of them looked at us, then at her, and said:
“What the hell is she doing here?”
Jessica froze, ears twitching, eyes darting between us and them.
“Oh,” she muttered. “Well, this is awkward.”
Then she smiled — not at us. At them.
“Hey! You boys wouldn’t happen to have a microwave, would you?”
It was like lighting a match in a fireworks factory.
Guns came out. Shouting started. We ducked behind crates. Someone knocked over a stack of metal barrels and it all became chaos — screaming, smoke, broken glass.
Jessica? Gone.
Vanished in the confusion, probably out through a roof vent or sewer grate. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she finished eating on the way out.
When backup finally arrived, the gang members were already scattering, and we had a warehouse full of illegal weapons and half-burned documents. Turns out she’d accidentally — or maybe not so accidentally — led us straight into a gang smuggling hub.
So technically, we lost her.
Again.
But technically... we also shut down a major weapons pipeline.
And the only reason we were there?
Jessica freaking Smith and a bag of stolen hot dogs.
Final Note:
Recommend updating Jessica Smith’s file to include:
"Potential informant value — indirect disruption patterns suggest criminal hotspots tend to coincide with suspect’s escape routes."
Or, in plain English:
Wherever she runs, something worse is probably hiding.
End report.
I wanted a treehouse... Well, that is what you get from witches when you say them that. Well, my home is a good one.
Alt character of this , if you want to play with one of my alts, just say it.
You can keep some notes on this character. You'll be the only one to be able to see this:
