Reference Sheet: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44021317/

Physical Appearance: Mouse is super messy. Her hair, her clothes, everything. She often has grease or oil or whatever smudged on her somewhere. She gets way too engrossed in her work to care about her appearance. The only real care she put into it is tying her hair up so it’s out of the way.

Clothing: 99% of the time Mouse is wearing her Airship Landing uniform. If she isn’t, she’ll honestly wear whatever’s around to cover her up. She’s not picky when it comes to clothing, she just sticks to her uniform to keep up appearances.

Expressions: Happy, cheerful, annoyed

Likes: Mechanics, welding, traveling, clementines

Dislikes: Magic, oranges, mirrors, ticking clocks

Fears/Phobias: Magic

Mouse is a bit of an eccentric inventor. A hyper fixated landing owner who gets way too wrapped up in her work, often to the point of forgetting to eat or sleep. Most people that know her will know when she starts up a new project she’ll most likely be working on it day in and day out until it’s done. This can make her come off as distant or snippy at times, especially considering she has absolutely no patience for other people’s bullshit. She’s loud, proud, and not afraid to voice her concerns.
Not only does being a Whiver give her inherently strange traits, such as her tendency to hyperfixate on her work, but she was also raised by Drexel which only adds to her eccentric nature. She always makes sure her hands are perfectly clean, but doesn’t bother with the rest of her body (as an example). Mouse has a particular hatred for oranges, and she makes SURE to let everyone know any time oranges are mentioned. She also has a deep rooted hatred for magic. In her words, she doesn’t want to make a “deal with the devil”. The gods are in charge of magic, therefore by using magic you’re signing your life away and putting yourself at their mercy. She will NOT allow magic anywhere near her or her landing if she can help it.

Strengths: Dexterity

Weaknesses: Hyperfixation

Weapons/Tools: Wrench

While not intelligent from an academic point of view, Mouse has a natural inclination towards figuring out how things work. Give her any machine and she’ll be able to take it apart and figure out how it works in a matter of days. If she can’t on her own, she’ll find a way to eventually.

Addictions: None

Mental Illnesses: ADHD

Physical Illnesses: None

Disabilities: None

Allergies: None

Mouse was born and raised in the country of Esterland. A country known for the export of somewhat luxurious and intricate goods. Things like watches, clocks, decorative weaponry, etc. Also a place known for its over reliance on machinery and general lack of magic users. With technology as advanced over there as it was many mundane spells simply weren't needed anymore. Why take the time and energy to cast a spell when a gadget can do it for you?
Like many Whiver, Mouse was born into the illegal trade. Destined to be bought and sold as either a slave or some form of pet. She was fortunate enough to be bought early, before the memories of her time in captivity could fully set in. At just the age of four she was bought by a Drexel by the name of Hexan Dial. A well known Tinker who ran one of only three airship landings that had direct lines to the extremely isolated country of Barrowford. She was purchased to be somewhat of a personal assistant/runner. Someone who could help him around the shop. After all, Airships are large vessels. It's hard to do repairs or maintenance on one by yourself.
While Hexan didn't treat Mouse badly by any means, there was still a clear abuse of power in their relationship. Her name being the shining example of this. It's not uncommon for a Whiver to he called a "rat" as a slur. Her name was chosen in jest. Hexan named her "Mouse" because she was a small, meek, Whiver child. The name was cute and perhaps a bit silly. Similar to how some people name a pet dog "fleabag". It's not meant to be rude, even if there are bad connotations behind it.
Life at the landing was pretty routine. Young mouse would generally spend her mornings gathering paperwork and bringing it to various destinations. Usually gathering travel documentation from ship owners at the landing or various maintenance forms. Afternoons were spend actively working on the ships themselves. As a young child this mostly meant running around and grabbing various tools from around the shop to bring to Hexan. Evenings she had off, but most of them were either spent in her room or around the ship yard.
Since the beginning Mouse had been fascinated by her mentors work. The mastery he had over these massive vessels was astounding. How could someone so small have so much power over an object of that size? How did it all work? Why was something large like a damaged hull a minor problem which could go without repair where a small one like a broken pipe make the ship unusable? How could a simple piece of cloth be in complete control over the direction of the ship? She wanted so badly to know how it all worked. She needed to know! But no matter how many times she asked her questions were always dismissed. After all, she was a runner. She didn't need to know how anything worked, she just needed to follow orders and get the right tools.
So, she began changing up her strategy. Whiver often hyperfixate on things, and uncovering the many mysteries of these airships was hers. When it became apparent Hexan wasn't going to use his free time to teach her anything, she became more infested in learning on the job. She began laying far closer attention to what he was doing and how it effected the ship itself. When he asked for a certain tool or resource she'd question why it was needed in the moment. Phrasing her questions like this made them align with what Hexan viewed as "her job", making him far more inclined to answer. Knowing how an engine worked wasn't part of "her job", but knowing why he needed a wrench rather than a hammer was.
In addition to this, she began tinkering with her own little projects after work hours. When the day’s work was done she’d wander around the ship yard picking up various pieces of scrap, then take her findings back to her room to try and make something out of it. On the off chance she did save up enough money to buy anything nice for herself she’d wander down to the local market and pick up a watchmaking kit or other small tools to further allow her to experiment. Usually she’d mimic whatever Hexan was doing during the day. If at all possible, anyway.
Gaining this knowledge not only gave Mouse the answers she so desperately wanted, but it also overall made her a better assistant. By the time she was 11 she didn't even need to be told what tools to grab or why, she was simply able to watch Hexan at work and grab things as she deemed necessary. Knowing how to do minor repairs also helped greatly. If mouse ever noticed him overlooking or ignoring something she'd simply fix it herself. Hexan wasn't happy with her supposed "insubordination". The first time she was caught making a repair by herself she was scolded for potentially damaging the airship, but soon enough he realized she not only did the repair, but did it well. Having her help was making the landing run far more smoothly without him even knowing!
By this point Mouse had more than proved herself in Hexan's eyes. Not only that, but he was starting to show his age a bit. Having Mouse take on the role of an apprentice rather than a simple runner would prove to he more beneficial than anything. Plus, if he hired her to do this he wouldn't have to pay to hire an actual second hand. So, by the time she was 12 Mouse was given the duties of an actual full fledged member of the landing crew.
It was also around this time Mouse started becoming more aware of the power dynamic between not only her and her boss, but between her and the other people around town. She was getting older, and while other children her age were starting to gain more trust and respect with the people around them, she was still being treated as if she were the meek little Whiver child she was when she moved here. It was a little frustrating, to say the least. Being talked down to and constantly being treated like a hopeless child. Even some of the airship crews she worked with would belittle or dismiss her. She hated it, and she wanted to know why.
Getting a straight answer out of anyone was a difficult task. Not wanting to be subject to this type of treatment anymore she began calling people out. If a shop owner talked down to her as if she were a child she’d point it out, then ask why they were doing it. Most wrote off her questions or gave her non answers, mainly to avoid hurting her feelings. Occasionally she’d get a halfhearted explanation which could be summed up mostly by “that’s just the way the world works”. Whiver were a lowly working race. Their place in the world was to bend to the will of higher beings and nothing more.
She hated this, and once she learned the truth about Whiver’s “place in the world” she began doing everything she could to break the mould and make things better for herself. Almost overnight she went from a quiet and meek person to a loud and proud one. She was done taking people’s shit. If she was going to be part of the landing crew, she was going to get the same respect as the landing crew! It was just a matter of figuring out how.
One thing she began to pick up on after becoming aware of this was her name. The name “Mouse” was so normalized to her that she didn’t even make the connection to its origins, until now. Learning her name derived from a slur only compounded her anger, so she sought out to change it. The only problem was, she had to find a name that not only suited her, but couldn’t be harked on the same way “Mouse” could. She spent weeks thinking this over. Looking at potential options and trying to find any potential issues with her top picks. It was a grueling process, and for someone like her who was far better with hard labour rather than reading sitting down and doing this type of research was that much more difficult. She wasn’t book smart. Mechanically inclined, perhaps, but reading wasn’t her strong suit.
Eventually she found a name she deemed suitable.  She settled on the name clementine. Something sweet sounding, but with a bit of bite to it. Just like the fruit! It went well with her physical appearance as well. With bright orange fur a name like that seemed appropriate. But as much as she liked the name, the people around her were less enthused about it. Hexan had been calling her “Mouse” for about ten years by this point. Breaking an old habit is hard enough when someone actually wants to, but when they don’t care it was damn near impossible. Not only that, but legally speaking her name was “Mouse”, so more often than not she’d have to write both names anyway. As perfect as it was, it seemed the name “Clementine” was destined to be nothing more than a last name. If that.
From the age fourteen to nineteen Mouse would continue her work at the landing. Putting up with the daily torment that is the social stigma around Whiver and learning more about her line of work. She didn’t get out and do much else, half because she didn’t have the money to and half because she didn’t have the desire to. She was completely an utterly engrossed in her work. Why bother picking up other hobbies? Putting any effort into things like writing or crafting would only mean less time for what she truly cared for.
One day, around the time Mouse had just turned nineteen, the airship landing got a letter in the mail. This letter came from officials in the country of Barrowford. More specifically, it was coming from Barrowford’s head province; Astra. For years Hexan’s airship landing had been one of a select few with access to the country itself, and it seemed like he’d gotten a good enough reputation with the people there that they wanted him to move over and start a new landing right there at the capital! It was a fairly lucrative offer.
The finer details of this arrangement would have to be worked out after Hexan accepted, but essentially if he were to accept he’d be working directly under Barrowford’s government as a sort of private ferrying service. This landing would allow government officials easier access to the province, making communications within the country itself exponentially easier. The only caveat to all of this would be that this landing would be heald to a much higher standard than the one Hexan ran now. After careful consideration Hexan eventually decided to accept this offer, meaning Mouse would be brought along with him as a result.
The moving process was a daunting task. Mouse had never been good with things like paperwork or writing. In her younger years she’d been in charge of bringing documents from place to place, sure, but actually filling these things out herself was a whole different ballpark. Not only that, but a few weeks after sending his reply agreeing to Barrowford’s offer Hexan caught a particularly nasty cold. Mouse was suddenly taking on double the work she had to before in addition to taking the necessary steps to gain citizenship. It was a bit overwhelming, and Mouse really didn’t have much of a say in any of this.
Time went on, and as it did Hexan’s illness only got worse. It started out as a pretty standard cold. Runny nose, cough, mild fever. But after a few days it developed into a full blown pneumonia. One that didn’t seem to get better, either. Even after taking him to the local apothecary and getting treatment. The medicine they gave, both mundane and magic, only fixed his symptoms, not the root of the illness itself.
No one could figure out what was wrong until it was already too late. As it would later turn out, Hexan had an array of health issues brought on by his generally lax precautions when it came to his work. Thirty years of breathing in smoke, exhaust, and other various chemicals used in the maintenance of airship repair will do that to you. Even if he had survived this bout of pneumonia, it would have hit him hard. Hard enough to destroy whatever quality of life he would have had left.
Hexan passed away shortly after sending out his letter of confirmation. A letter that basically told Barrowford’s officials he was interested in the position and would follow the guidelines sent to him to gain legal access to the country. None of the actual business documents had been officially signed or sent out. All of those were to be sent afterwards, once they knew he was interested. By the time those documents got there Mouse was the only one left.
At first she was simply going to discard the letters. She was already pretty torn up over the death of her mentor. He was the only thing keeping a roof over her head. The only reason she wasn’t out living on the streets. His death left her with nothing, and by the time these documents arrived Mouse had already resorted to selling off equipment just to have enough money to get by. But, on a whim, she decided to take a glance over these documents herself. That was the moment an idea sparked in her mind.
None of the correspondence up to this point ever named Hexan as the landing owner. It didn’t actually seem like Barrowford actually knew who ran the place. The only reason he was addressed by name at all was because he had been the one to respond to the letter. Looking over these documents it became clear that Mouse could easily fill her own names into these forms. The landing was technically “her’s” now anyway. Hexan had no next of kin to speak of, and she had been the only permanent member of staff for any significant amount of time. Plus, she knew this job inside and out. She was pretty much raised to be the perfect landing worker. It would be so easy. Too easy. Too easy to the point Mouse had to spend several weeks looking in to the finer details of all this before taking the leap.
On one hand, having her own airship landing would basically be her dream come true. She could run the place her way and she wouldn’t have to put up with anyone’s bullshit. All day every day could be spent doing what she loved. It would be great! On the other hand, though, owning an airship landing didn’t change the fact she was a Whiver. Her being a Whiver seemed to take precedence over her job title. If people dismissed and belittled her as things were, why would having the title of “Landing owner” change anything?
Her research into Barrowford’s customs did give one spark of hope, though. From what she was able to find in the limited information available about the place it didn’t seem Whiver were native there. Not only were they not native, but they were almost nonexistent outside the capital. Barrowford was a pretty isolated country as things were. It was a place full of scholars and magic researchers. Anyone lucky enough to live there had a damn good reason to be there. If all of that was the case, there was a pretty good chance the social stigma surrounding Whiver was different there than it was in Esterland.
So, Mouse took the leap. This was a chance to finally break free of the standard Whiver stereotype. She could carve her own path in the world. Make her life what she wanted it to be. Filling out the forms really didn’t take long, and by the time she was done with both those and her citizenship it was really just a matter of getting things sent and getting her belongings packed.
The trip there was pretty nerve wracking in and of itself. If there was one thing Mouse knew about Airships over the years, it was that they could be cleared for flight even with things she’d consider to be “debilitating” defects. The average ship was riddled with minor issues often written off as nothing, but given enough minor issues and a single ride could turn deadly. You never know what small chain of events could lead to a major malfunction. She may have spent her life repairing these things, but she sure as hell never flew in one until now.
Right off the bat Barrowford was a vastly different place than Esterland. For one thing, the city she had just moved to was full of Sinvian. Sinvian and Kodin, both species she’d had very limited interactions with over the years. Esterland only really had Drexel and Lesser Dragons. She didn’t know how to interact with these species. What made it worse was the fact the city’s mayor was a Sinvian himself. She wanted to make a good impression on him, but she just couldn’t get past it. How the hell are you supposed to tell a Sinvian’s mood? Their beaks don’t move!
He seemed just as surprised to see a Whiver walk off the ship as she did to see a Sinvian greeting her. For a moment Mouse was worried this ruse of hers would be exposed right then and there, but after a little while of talking it seemed the issue of her species wasn’t going to play a part in things moving forwards. After a quick introduction and tour around the city she was brought to the building which would become her very own airship landing!
One of the first things Mouse did in Astra was try and make a good impression on her neighbors. Rumors spread fast. If she could make her mark before anyone began talking she’d be able to squash things before they became a big deal. Just as she’d learned over the years, she had to be loud and persistent to get anyone to take her seriously. She wasn’t going to put up with anyone’s bullshit, that was for sure. She was a proud and reputable business woman, damn it! They’d better treat her like one!
Among the people she met was a Kodin by the name of Hook Rigby. He was in charge of the local tavern, and given his business model it seemed the two would most likely be working together often. Any traveler would need to find a place to stay during their trip, and Hook’s was the place to go. At the very least having a good reputation with Hook would help her own business. Being able to give recommendations on places to stay would make her own patrons think she was more competent.
These two wouldn’t become very close until much later on. In the beginning their relationship was strictly professional. On occasion he’d seek out her help for minor repairs around the tavern, and every now and then she’d get him to help with taxes or other business forms. Mouse had only ever been in charge of repairs. Strictly repairs. Things like travel forms, tax documentation, and all the various paperwork that came with owning and licensing an airship was way over her head.
Life went on, and while Mouse could never 100% escape the stigma surrounding her species, she made it known to everyone in town that she wasn’t going to deal with their mistreatment of her. Most people that had any bias towards Whiver as a species knew to keep their mouths shut around her. Aside from that, life in Barrowford was good. Her reputation for repairing things eventually spread, and before she knew it she was not only doing airship maintenance, but general maintenance for most of the locals. It was a nice way to supplement her income, that was for sure.
Several years in to her new life, well after she’d gotten herself established in Astra, there was a frantic knock on her door. This was extremely late at night, and Mouse sure as hell knew she wasn’t expecting anyone this late. Part of her didn’t even want to answer the door, but she did against her better judgements. What she saw standing at her front door was shocking, so say the least.
Standing before her was a very distraught looking Hook. In his arms was a very young Whiver boy who was in a state of pure and utter panic. Screaming, crying, and clearly recovering from some sort of injury. The barely scabbed over gash on his face was evidence of that. Apparently this kid had showed up in Astra a few days back. He’d been wandering the streets by himself until he was eventually caught stealing food from one of Hook’s recent shipments.
Hook had been trying to figure out where this kid’s parents were, as he clearly didn’t live in Astra, but he kept screaming and crying because he thought hook was some sort of “monster”. He’d brought the kid here to see if he’d be more comfortable talking to another one of his own species. Mouse was annoyed by this, but she helped out anyway. Her own feelings aside, this kid was clearly in distress and she was probably the only one in town who knew a damn thing about Whiver.
Mouse didn’t really know how to interact with kids, but eventually she did manage to get the boy to calm down. From what she could gather from his broken and vague story, he’d been on the run for quite some time. There were “monsters” after him and he needed to get away before they got him. He seemed pretty out of it during their talk. Stammering, spacing out, and forgetting where a sentence was going halfway through. He couldn’t give an answer when she asked where his parents, master, boss, etc was. It didn’t seem like he had anyone looking after him.
Neither one of them knew what they were supposed to do with the kid. He was lost, scared, and confused. Hook floated the idea of him staying with her until he could find a better arrangement, but she wasn’t having it. While she hated the stereotype that Whiver were stupid hyperactive rodents, it was often the case. This kid was a clear example of that, and she wasn’t having him stay in her nice and tidy airship landing. At best he’d mess the place up, and at worse he’d get himself killed by one of the airships. So, Hook brought him back to the tavern.
She thought that was going to be that, but Hook kept coming back. Every few days or so he’d come over to the landing in a panic asking questions about Whiver she figured would be common sense. Can he eat this, why is he chewing on that, why can’t I get him to fall asleep, blah blah blah blah blah. It was clear being the only other Whiver in town Hook was going to keep coming to her for advice, so she began working on a bit of a general care overview for the boy. The kid, Hazel, clearly wasn’t going to be going anywhere any time soon, so she might as well do what she can to make sure Hook doesn’t get him killed.
This was when she and Hook really started getting close. The more they interacted with each other, the more they realised they had in common. For one thing, both of them had some sort of dislike for magic. Weather it be magic in general or a certain aspect of it, the two bonded over talks about how dangerous the local university was or how vague many of the town’s wizards were when it came to their duties.
Hook was an interesting individual. Before all she really knew about him was he was the local tavern owner and the butt of many jokes around the city. Getting to know him, she could certainly see why. He had a highly paranoid personality. Hated secrets, hated people going behind his back and talking bad about him. Whenever he felt someone was “hiding the truth” he’d go out of his way to expose them. While Mouse didn’t agree with his methods, she certainly empathized with him. He didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, just like her. Another thing they had in common.
From this point on the two would start considering each other friends. Often Hook would come to the landing to discuss his newest conspiracy about the town; usually looking for advice on how to stop it. Mouse would be the person to keep him somewhat grounded in reality. That being said, the two did get in a fair bit of trouble with one another. With both of them having a vendetta against magic in a city known for its research on the topic, it was almost unavoidable for Mouse to get dragged down the rabbit hole of a couple of Hook’s conspiracies. It was all in good fun, though. If nothing else, having such a wacky neighbor made for good entertainment.
That brings Mouse to where she is today. Nowadays she still runs Skybound Landing, the name of her ship yard. In addition to this she spends a considerable amount of time doing various repairs around the city, weather people want it or not. If she sees a problem that needs fixing she’s going to fix it, regardless of where it is or what the property owner wants. When she’s not working on airships or general town maintenance she spends her time fiddling around with various little projects. Clock making, building wind up toys, making small trinkets, etc. On occasion she’ll entertain some of Hook’s delusions as well. Her life is relatively uneventful, but she likes it that way. All she ever wanted was time to work on airships, after all!

Creation date: May 21st 2019

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Voice Claim: Rita: Flushed Away

Other: Mouse started off as a joke Sonic OC, but I fell in love with her design and developed her from there. Originally she was a mouse named Mouse before I turned her into a Whiver.