[center][img]http://pre06.deviantart.net/2131/th/pre/f/2010/111/e/b/k_boxing_by_eastmonkey.jpg[/img][/center]
[Center][color=#ff9933][h1][b][u]Orrick Rhenolds[/u][/b][/h1][/color][/center]
[center][h2][i]”Some people need a damn good punch right to their chin to get it through their heads that some of us just don’t give a single shit about what they say.”[/i][/h2][/center]

[b][u]Age:[/u][/b]
33

[b][u]Occupation:[/u][/b]
Boxing Instructor, Enforcer for a Gang

[b][u]Race:[/u][/b]
Rhesus Macaque 

[b][u]Gender:[/u][/b]
Male

[b][u]Height:[/u][/b]
6’1, 1.85m

[b][u]Weight:[/u][/b]
196lbs, 89.09 kg

[b][u]Descriptive Appearance:[/u][/b]
Orrick primarily wears jeans which, honestly, would probably best left in the garbage due to the amount of fraying which they have obtained from such a long period of time, as well as a hoodie which covers the form fitting t-shirts he often wears. His shoes are similar to modern-day converse, though are greying and covered in mud and gunk from the streets. Despite covering as much as he can with his day to day attire, it is true that his workout attire is far more revealing as he simply wears no shirt and shorts which do not restrict his movement. Some say he may be crazy with working out in such clothing, running miles in cold weather as such and even doing as such at night when it is freezing. If complemented or plied with enough booze, he may take of his hoodie simply to show off his muscles.


[b][u]Personality:[/u][/b]
Courage or insanity, nobody knows for sure which drives Orrick to be as reckless as he is on a day-to-day basis, especially if he is fighting or looking to pick, a fight. In reality, it is probably just due to the fact that Orrick rather dislikes to let people push him around, whether they are in larger numbers than him or are stronger than him. He has never been known for allowing even the smallest transgression against him pass, even if it is something as simple as bumping into him, without causing some kind of confrontation. Oddly enough, he is only a bad person in the sense that he doesn’t care for the views of others or whether or not they dislike him, simply choosing to stand by his own views and never giving in. If on decent terms with him, most people would consider Orrick kind at his best and a bit of an asshole at his worst. 

[b][u]Quirks:[/u][/b]
After many a year of boxing and injuries to his shoulder, Orrick has taken to rotating his right shoulder, often creating a few loud pops, when agitated or simply bored. 

[hider=Background]
	Scum, punk, trash, many of these were words used to describe Orrick as he grew up, hated by many people who had seen him as nothing but a lesser being because he was a monkey of all things. He was never going to grow up to be anything special, anything other than another mongrel, had he chosen to be put down by them. But that was not the spirit Orrick had been born with, he was not going to let them decide the life he was to live whether it meant fighting with all his might or not. It was either that or give up and disappoint his mother who always thought more of him, always saw his Father who had died in the first World War before he was born, and always hoped that her son would make a niche for himself in a world that had rejected them. Yet, it had seemed for a long time that the man would never be able to live up to her expectations, never be able to find a part of the world where he was allowed to live in peace or at least comfortably.
	That was when he managed to find boxing and an instructor who could see past the fact that the kid he was teaching was going to cause such controversy, or at least was willing to forget it since Orrick showed an innate skill to keep on going even after taking a beating. For days, the kid would keep coming back after hours to avoid the other patrons of the ring for his training, often coming in with bruises and a broken nose because they saw him going in every now and then. Every time, he’d come in and train, letting out the anger he had towards those who kept trying to keep him down and pushing his limits to reach for the high bar which his Mother wished him to have. This meant being up early in the morning to go for runs, working out late into the nights, and adhering to a strict diet which his mother was barely able to keep up with. It wasn’t long before he had to get a job to support his growing appetite and need for a consistent diet to support muscle growth. 
	His first competition was when he was young, barely seventeen, yet he was thrown against people who were older than him, had trained longer and had more experience. Some may expect to hear about how he was manage to pull out the title of Underdog but no, he lost and almost gave up. He would’ve given up had it not been for how happy it made his mother to see him doing something with his life rather than giving up and giving in to the pressure everybody put on him. Instead, he pushed himself even harder than he had in the past and kept pushing till he made a name for himself, though that took years till he was able to fight through discrimination and being an underdog to be able to compete for money that made a difference in his day to day life rather than the few dozen here and there. In fact, he found life going well for him, almost too well as the Mafia took notice and made him an offer. Take some falls and earn some extra cash.
	It was something he couldn’t refuse, how could he when his mother had recently fallen ill and he couldn’t manage to get her help? So he took a fall and earned the money, losing a battle here and there but not enough to lose his positioning in tournaments as he rose from the depths of the slums to fight in championships. All was going well for him, at least until his Mother died due to the medication she was on failing her and he saw no reason to continue taking falls and money from the Mafia. He was a local hero to some at that point, at least until someone leaked a ‘confidential conversation’ with him on how he was taking falls. He quickly became the target of hate from near everyone who knew him, no longer a hero as much as he was a piece of trash who would do anything for money. So Orrick did the only thing he was good at, he used his fists to dig himself out of that hole and earn some cash. Whether it was legal or not, he didn’t care. He was just aiming to retake his spot at the top. He even turned to the recently discovered magic which he had grown to disregard to give him the upper hand in his kind of work.
[/hider]

MAGIC SECTION HERE!
[b][u]Specialization:[/u][/b] Versatile

[b][u]School of Magic Attended:[/u][/b] Conjuration

[b][u]Primary Deity Worshiped:[/u][/b] Zanshiel and Jyotika

[b][u]Permanent Sacrifice:[/u][/b] No

[b][u]Equipment:[/u][/b]
-His Standard Clothing
-A lighter and pack of cigarettes
-A wallet with a few dollars in it
-A picture of his mother(In his wallet)
-And a necklace of a star made for him

[b][u]Weapons:[/u][/b]
Nothing but his fists and a  CR triangolo maniago switchblade. 

[b][u]Other:[/u][/b]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MJAg0VDgO0