#patchbio

THIS IS YOUR GAME

Name: Patch Doe Age: Twenty Class Year: Sophomore Position: Vixen Hometown: Vermilion, Ohio This character is nonbinary and uses he/him and she/her pronouns.

THIS IS YOUR MOMENT

TW: child neglect/abuse, starvation mention, child death, homelessness

Kai’s parents were college sweethearts. When they had Kai, they gave him everything, and when they left Kai, they took everything as well. They passed away in a freak plane crash, and after their death his pregnant godparents took him in to honor their spirit. Kai was eight at the time, and despite the love they shared for his late parents, his godparents couldn’t help but dislike the fact that they now had two children to take care of, when they had been certain they were only going to have and take care of one.

When Tye was born, Kai’s godparents were enamoured with him—and Kai was too. Tye was such a bubbly baby, and while Kai was still aching from the loss of his parents, he found that his adoptive little brother’s attitude was contagious, and latched onto the change into being a big brother with a single minded passion. For two years Tye’s parents were completely taken with Tye, and Kai felt himself disappearing from their minds. He was sure his godparents didn’t mean to forget to feed him or pick him up for school; it was just because Tye was a lot to handle. Kai didn’t mind learning how to take care of himself all that much, although when he was sick or had nightmares about losing his parents, he missed sound of his mother shushing him as his father stroked his back.

However, Kai’s godparents became disenchanted with their birth son once he hit his terrible-twos. And, when the burden of being parents seemed too much, they left that responsibility to Kai. If he was going to be living in their house out of the goodness of their hearts, he might as well help out as well. And if Tye were to grow sick, or take a tumble, or cry in the middle of the night because he was hungry, it was Kai’s fault. Kai didn’t like it when it was his fault. And so he learned, and he learned fast. He already knew how to take care of himself, surely he could handle his little brother. And for three solid years, he did handle it. He made them breakfast before they had to leave for school, walked Tye back home after school, helped Tye with what little projects he had to do in his first grade class, made Tye dinner, and then hid him before their parents got home and ripped Kai a new one for leaving the house such a mess.

He was okay with how he had to live, because his brother was innocent in all of this. He hadn’t asked to be born to his parents, just like Kai hadn’t asked for his parents to die and leave him with them, and Kai was going to do everything he could for him. But Kai was still a child, growing into a young teen. He wanted to live his own life, too. He started sneaking off when Tye was five, always making sure his brother knew not to tattle if their parents came home early. He found love in painting, and would run to explore different medias with friends in the middle of the night. That was when he discovered his love for graffiti. Through it, he was finally able to be heard, even if no one knew who the voice belonged to.

Except, one night, he came home to an eerie stillness to the house. And what he found would change his life forever.

Kai knew deep down he should’ve never left Tye on his own, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to really hurt himself, to get into the laundry cabinets and consume what he found there. By the time he got home, Tye was already long dead.

And that’s how his godparents found him, hunched over the body of his little brother, trying so hard to wake him up. Even though they were removed from Tye’s life, they still loved him, and were devastated. They immediately accused Kai of murdering him out of jealousy. Like the loss of their real son was an opportunity to finally get rid of Kai, who had been, in their eyes, the start of their bad luck in life. Kai heard them talking to the police. He heard their hysterics from the other room as he stayed with his brother, and he knew exactly what would happen if he were to stay. He was scared, beyond terrified. He didn’t want to go to jail at fourteen. And so he did what he thought was best.

He ran.

He ran, and he ran, and for six months he ran. He doesn’t remember much of those six months. But he knows something horrible happened in them. But after those six months, Kai was taken in by a homeless shelter, where he stayed for the next two years, dodging any attempts to find him. He knew he couldn’t go home. He knew they would lock him away while they figured out what had happened.

And while Kai was at the homeless shelter, he found a family he had never had before. A sort of kinship. He was able to express his love for art to them, and they ate it up. It was why he felt it was his duty to do more for them. He was excellent at sewing, and was able to fix most of their clothing, which was especially important in winter. It was where he got the nickname Patch. It fit well, especially since he had never disclosed his name to them. So Patch was who he was, and he liked it that way. He also got very good at parkouring through the city to evade police, especially when he was caught shoplifting for the homeless shelter a few times. He learned how to be flexible, to fling himself and tuck and roll across rooftops and down fire escapes, because he knew if they caught him, he’d get worse than a slap on the wrist.

When he was sixteen, he looked at one of the ratty TVs at the homeless shelter, and was stunned to see mugshots of his godparents. Arrested for neglect—negligent homicide to be exact. Patch’s name was cleared, and he could go home.

But he didn’t. He had his place now, and it was nowhere near where he had been. But it did mean he could finally come out of hiding, and so he did: he got a job, he worked, and he painted, and he helped the shelter. He continued to practice parkour, because he had found something that made him feel like he was flying. There was something about perfecting his back flips off of ledges that made him feel alive. Painting was nice, but sometimes he needed to move his body. Throwing himself into handstands and walking along the ledge of buildings high in the air gave him a rush of adrenaline that fueled his more maudlin days. It also helped that he was very good at entertaining the people at the homeless shelter on a rainy day by launching into practice routines he had studied on their one shitty computer. They loved it, and he loved it too.

He saved up enough money to get his GED and enroll in community college close to the shelter, where he still stayed. He didn’t really think he would get a degree, but he liked taking the art classes. He liked talking with the other students there. He officially changed his name to Patch Doe. He didn’t want to be associated with anything from his past. Not his given name, nor his last name. He wanted that part of his life to disappear, and if he didn’t look at the memories of it for long enough, he could feel it slowly slipping away into a dark place in his mind.

And he was okay with that.

SEIZE IT WITH EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT

It was at the insistence of those at the homeless shelter that he decided to apply for a four-year college and move away to get his degree. The scholarships Palmetto offered for those in need made it an easy choice and, as a bonus, they were offering additional scholarships for those in athletics. So naturally, Patch had to try for that too, even though he was absolutely certain he wouldn’t get anywhere with it. However, the Vixens were a surprisingly good fit—something all of his years scaling and learning the city meshed well with. Doing standing flips wasn’t quite the same as the rush he got leaping from one building to another and landing in a roll, but it felt similar enough, and he hadn’t ever had as much connection with others his age. Besides, he had gotten quite the love for performing given how often he had agreed to do so for the people back home.

And Patch has to admit, this life he has now is much better than the one that he pretends never existed.

THIS IS YOUR GAME

Name: Patch Doe Age: Twenty Class Year: Sophomore Position: Vixen Hometown: Vermilion, Ohio This character is nonbinary and uses he/him and she/her pronouns.

THIS IS YOUR MOMENT

TW: child neglect/abuse, starvation mention, child death, homelessness

Kai’s parents were college sweethearts. When they had Kai, they gave him everything, and when they left Kai, they took everything as well. They passed away in a freak plane crash, and after their death his pregnant godparents took him in to honor their spirit. Kai was eight at the time, and despite the love they shared for his late parents, his godparents couldn’t help but dislike the fact that they now had two children to take care of, when they had been certain they were only going to have and take care of one.

When Tye was born, Kai’s godparents were enamoured with him—and Kai was too. Tye was such a bubbly baby, and while Kai was still aching from the loss of his parents, he found that his adoptive little brother’s attitude was contagious, and latched onto the change into being a big brother with a single minded passion. For two years Tye’s parents were completely taken with Tye, and Kai felt himself disappearing from their minds. He was sure his godparents didn’t mean to forget to feed him or pick him up for school; it was just because Tye was a lot to handle. Kai didn’t mind learning how to take care of himself all that much, although when he was sick or had nightmares about losing his parents, he missed sound of his mother shushing him as his father stroked his back.

However, Kai’s godparents became disenchanted with their birth son once he hit his terrible-twos. And, when the burden of being parents seemed too much, they left that responsibility to Kai. If he was going to be living in their house out of the goodness of their hearts, he might as well help out as well. And if Tye were to grow sick, or take a tumble, or cry in the middle of the night because he was hungry, it was Kai’s fault. Kai didn’t like it when it was his fault. And so he learned, and he learned fast. He already knew how to take care of himself, surely he could handle his little brother. And for three solid years, he did handle it. He made them breakfast before they had to leave for school, walked Tye back home after school, helped Tye with what little projects he had to do in his first grade class, made Tye dinner, and then hid him before their parents got home and ripped Kai a new one for leaving the house such a mess.

He was okay with how he had to live, because his brother was innocent in all of this. He hadn’t asked to be born to his parents, just like Kai hadn’t asked for his parents to die and leave him with them, and Kai was going to do everything he could for him. But Kai was still a child, growing into a young teen. He wanted to live his own life, too. He started sneaking off when Tye was five, always making sure his brother knew not to tattle if their parents came home early. He found love in painting, and would run to explore different medias with friends in the middle of the night. That was when he discovered his love for graffiti. Through it, he was finally able to be heard, even if no one knew who the voice belonged to.

Except, one night, he came home to an eerie stillness to the house. And what he found would change his life forever.

Kai knew deep down he should’ve never left Tye on his own, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to really hurt himself, to get into the laundry cabinets and consume what he found there. By the time he got home, Tye was already long dead.

And that’s how his godparents found him, hunched over the body of his little brother, trying so hard to wake him up. Even though they were removed from Tye’s life, they still loved him, and were devastated. They immediately accused Kai of murdering him out of jealousy. Like the loss of their real son was an opportunity to finally get rid of Kai, who had been, in their eyes, the start of their bad luck in life. Kai heard them talking to the police. He heard their hysterics from the other room as he stayed with his brother, and he knew exactly what would happen if he were to stay. He was scared, beyond terrified. He didn’t want to go to jail at fourteen. And so he did what he thought was best.

He ran.

He ran, and he ran, and for six months he ran. He doesn’t remember much of those six months. But he knows something horrible happened in them. But after those six months, Kai was taken in by a homeless shelter, where he stayed for the next two years, dodging any attempts to find him. He knew he couldn’t go home. He knew they would lock him away while they figured out what had happened.

And while Kai was at the homeless shelter, he found a family he had never had before. A sort of kinship. He was able to express his love for art to them, and they ate it up. It was why he felt it was his duty to do more for them. He was excellent at sewing, and was able to fix most of their clothing, which was especially important in winter. It was where he got the nickname Patch. It fit well, especially since he had never disclosed his name to them. So Patch was who he was, and he liked it that way. He also got very good at parkouring through the city to evade police, especially when he was caught shoplifting for the homeless shelter a few times. He learned how to be flexible, to fling himself and tuck and roll across rooftops and down fire escapes, because he knew if they caught him, he’d get worse than a slap on the wrist.

When he was sixteen, he looked at one of the ratty TVs at the homeless shelter, and was stunned to see mugshots of his godparents. Arrested for neglect—negligent homicide to be exact. Patch’s name was cleared, and he could go home.

But he didn’t. He had his place now, and it was nowhere near where he had been. But it did mean he could finally come out of hiding, and so he did: he got a job, he worked, and he painted, and he helped the shelter. He continued to practice parkour, because he had found something that made him feel like he was flying. There was something about perfecting his back flips off of ledges that made him feel alive. Painting was nice, but sometimes he needed to move his body. Throwing himself into handstands and walking along the ledge of buildings high in the air gave him a rush of adrenaline that fueled his more maudlin days. It also helped that he was very good at entertaining the people at the homeless shelter on a rainy day by launching into practice routines he had studied on their one shitty computer. They loved it, and he loved it too.

He saved up enough money to get his GED and enroll in community college close to the shelter, where he still stayed. He didn’t really think he would get a degree, but he liked taking the art classes. He liked talking with the other students there. He officially changed his name to Patch Doe. He didn’t want to be associated with anything from his past. Not his given name, nor his last name. He wanted that part of his life to disappear, and if he didn’t look at the memories of it for long enough, he could feel it slowly slipping away into a dark place in his mind.

And he was okay with that.

SEIZE IT WITH EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT

It was at the insistence of those at the homeless shelter that he decided to apply for a four-year college and move away to get his degree. The scholarships Palmetto offered for those in need made it an easy choice and, as a bonus, they were offering additional scholarships for those in athletics. So naturally, Patch had to try for that too, even though he was absolutely certain he wouldn’t get anywhere with it. However, the Vixens were a surprisingly good fit—something all of his years scaling and learning the city meshed well with. Doing standing flips wasn’t quite the same as the rush he got leaping from one building to another and landing in a roll, but it felt similar enough, and he hadn’t ever had as much connection with others his age. Besides, he had gotten quite the love for performing given how often he had agreed to do so for the people back home.

And Patch has to admit, this life he has now is much better than the one that he pretends never existed.