This cat is irredeemable.
You are in a dumpster. It's cold and uncomfortable and wet from gods know what. But, all things considered, not the worst place to spend the night. It's less cold and less uncomfortable and less wet than the street. Barely. You were SUPPOSED to have been getting your shit together, making a life for yourself away from your family and out of your brothers shadow. Figuring it all out. Instead, here you are, hungover in a dumpster for gazillionth night in a row. Still, you suppose it's not to late to start over over.
You are Ramuné Ja'Viir, a young catfolk woman. You have a completely white coat of fur, except for your black left paws. You like to say you have a knack for swordfighting, and the performing arts - But you've never really done a bang up job, your old pals did most of the heavy lifting in your daring and roguish adventures. You, up until recently, used to be an adventurer, getting yourself into all kinds of swashbuckling antics and danger and shit. You kinda biffed it, though. Not worth lamenting the past, however. You really need to get your shit together, Ramuné.
"Get your shit together." PLEASE, you didn't even actually do anything! You shouldn't NEED to be getting your aforementioned shit together. You don't deserve to be here, naked, in a dumpster. You don't deserve what happened. This is entirely, and utterly, BOGUS. You mean, AGAIN, nothing actually HAPPENED. NO sex, NO ANYTHING. And yet you have one little drop of alcohol after, what, 23 years of life? And suddenly it's all "Oh Ramuné, you cannot control yourself." And "Ramuné, maybe you should take some time away from the open seas, focus on yourself." Bull, and you cannot stress this part enough, shit.