Information

Lavoz
Legacy Name: Lavoz

The Chibi Telenine
Owner: Hellmutt

Age: 17 years, 10 months, 3 weeks

Born: April 25th, 2008

Adopted: 17 years, 10 months, 3 weeks ago (Legacy)

Adopted: April 25th, 2008 (Legacy)

Statistics

• Level: 5
   
• Strength: 12
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 1
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

STATISTICS

Full Name: Mathis Lavoz
Gender: Male
Age: 8 Years
Height: 4 feet 6 inches
Roleplay: Anthro and Quad
Personality: Had a bad past, but lived through it. Has a violent fear of baseball bats [See story for explanation]. Sweet tempered, and hard to make angry, this little boy is simply lonely. He loves to talk to people, and never quite got the point of "don't talk to strangers," when strangers are simply potential friends.


STORY

His smile is sleepy and empty, devoid of feeling. Blank eyes blink, hollow and vacant as his small fist clenches around the cold he felt in his hand. It felt like an ice cube borrowed into his palm, he mused, thinking of the cold presence. He tilts back his head, and his sleepy eyes, blue as ocean waves and blank as a flat lake slowly slide into focus. The single bare light bulb that hangs from the ceiling, dusty and fragile looks to him like the moon. A quiet giggle escapes his chapped, bitten lips. "Hello Moon..." he whispers in a voice like dust. Tilting his head to the side, he reaches her free hand up towards the dull glass bulb. His bitten fingernails look bloody and raw. Drawing heat from his skin, the cold sensation fades away, and feels to him like the ice cube melts. But Mathis does not feel the cold as it fades. He is far beyond feeling. In fact, it had been days, maybe even weeks since he had felt anything at all. All he felt was the dull beat of his own heart, muffled and distant.

His small face crumples into a pout-he could not reach the moon-and his hand falls limply, heavily to his side. He slumps, sadly, and gazes at the light bulb with an almost betrayed look. "Moon?" his voice is barely audible. Suddenly his dull eyes brighten a little and he looks back at the hand that clutched the cold. Smiling he slowly opens her palm. "Ice?" he whispers as the cold feeling trickles away. The ice was gone. His diluted eyes tear over. The ice left. Everyone left. As a tear rolls down his cheek and into her open palm, the little boy closes his eyes.

When he closes his eyes everything is safe. He is in his own warm, dark little cocoon where no one can find him. Ever. In the darkness of his eyelids he sees the slender form of a woman. Smiling, laughing, the woman crouches down and reaches loving arms out to Mathis. Curly hair the color of cherry-wood falls carelessly over her rust furred shoulders, and her wide eyes, the color of the clear blue sky, are filled with love. In the closet Mathis wraps his arms around himself as he slowly rocks forwards and backwards. "Momma," he whispers. His eyelids are like a movie screen, which he watches in the darkness.

There is a little boy with crimson fur the color of dried blood and eyes the brightest shade of blue. He sits cross-legged on the wooden hall floor playing with his tail. He would make it twitch then he would chase after it with his paws, trying to catch himself. Across from him the brown haired woman kneels, tilting a small plush dog back and forth, she makes it dance. The dancing toy makes the little boy laugh and the woman's smile is filled with love for her child. They play on the hall floor as the afternoon sun filters warmly in through the window, making the dust motes swirl and frolic.

What seems to be faraway a door opens with a soft creak and whooshes shut dully. There are heavy footsteps moving through the house. As they get closer they sound like thunder roaring in his young ears. A large man steps into the room and begins to yell. His voice is filled with anger. He screams at the brown-haired woman. She whips around in shock, terror written across her face and wide eyes. How had he found them? She leapt to her feet and turns to the little boy. "Run Mathis!" she screams. "Run!" But the little boy just stands frozen; his sapphire eyes wide with shock.

The man is so familiar, but he cannot think of his name. He thinks he used to live with them, when he was very little. But for so long it had just been him and his mother. He remembers so little of his childhood. Only flashes. His mother telling the doctors that she fell down the stairs. His mother crying and the man yelling. He yelled so much...

He towers over the brown-haired woman, a pillar of rage. He screams so loud at the slender woman who stands protectively between him and her child. "What are you doing here?" her voice trembles. "Y-you're not allowed to be here. You're not allowed near us! The court order-" He laughs. A cold, harsh sound, full of anger and devoid of humor. "I told you. I told you you'd never get away from me." His voice is like the snarl of some mangy dog, guttural and ugly. "I'm here to make sure you don't run from me again." But there is something in his hand. A bat. An aluminum baseball bat. It flashes through the air in a gleaming arc and comes down with a sickening, wet crack.

The brown-haired woman falls to the floor where she lays in a crumpled heap, clutching her shattered shoulder. Her ashen eyes wide with pain and shock. Her mouth moves but no words come out, only a pained, whimpering gasp; the sound of a puppy only a few weeks old crushed beneath the tires of an eighteen wheeler. He grins and raises the bat. Again and again it falls-thud, thud, thud-smashing against her unresisting form, until, finally, her hissing gasps of agony cease. The man spits onto her crushed body, his saliva oozing across her face, her eyes still open wide. Slowly he turns and drops the bat to the floor with a heavy clang. His footsteps fade away and the door shuts for a final time.

The walls, splattered red, seem to close in around the tiny form of the pup. The rag doll falls limply from his hands and hits the blood-splattered floor with a wet thump. One tiny step. Two. The little boy stands over the woman's body. "Mommy?" he whimpered, the pitiful mew of a lost kitten. "Mommy?"

In the closet Mathis opens his dull blue eyes. He vaguely wonders who those people were... His empty gaze doesn't even notice the red stains that cover his toes or the bloodstained rag-doll form of a dog that lies at his feet. He looks back up at the light bulb and smiles weakly, still dazed and confused. "Hello Moon......"


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