Information
Ex_541
Legacy Name: Ex_541
The
Graveyard RuffieOwner: rainbowkitty
Age: 17 years, 4 months, 3 weeks
Born: October 29th, 2008
Adopted: 17 years, 4 months, 3 weeks ago (Legacy)
Adopted: October 29th, 2008 (Legacy)
Statistics
- Level: 4
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Ex, being the nickname of Exavícus Mortrére, was a wealthy and respected man in his time. He owned a mansion, a summer house, a casino, and many hotels in the bustling city that he once lived in. But he was also a notorious gambler. He loved gambling more than his family, children, wife, and friends combined. He spent nearly every day and night in a casino, whether it was his own or one in another town.One night, Ex decided he would raise the stakes ridiculously high. He kept his lucky rabbit's foot in his pocket, so he was certain he wouldn't lose. He put up for bet four of his hotels and his summer house, and he lost every bit of it. He had never had such horrible luck in all of his gambling career. As the night went on, it didn't look like Ex could ever win any of his money or property back. By morning, he had lost it all. He begged and begged, but he couldn't get anything back. Finally, one of the mens' bodyguards were forced to "escort" him out.When he arrived home, he was a weak man, with tears and sweat running down his face. His wife had gotten used to him being away, so she had taken up with another man while he was absent. His children, when their mother was away, would go their aunt's house. So there Ex sat, desolate in his armchair. Suddenly, something shattered, like a mirror, inside his usually rational mind. An uncontrollable rage burst inside him and he went to the cellar. Every step would screech and creek beneath his heavy, angry footsteps.In an old wooden case lay his revolver. He opened it and dust flew all around, causing him to sneeze. Inside, the gun sat idle. It was clean and polished; it had never been used since Ex had purchased it long ago. He picked it up. In his hand, it felt like a long-lost friend. The gun warmed to his hand quickly and Ex knew what had to be done.Ex stormed up the steps and slammed the cellar door behind him. In the dark cellar, the case sat open with the revolver's imprint surrounded by dust. A gun is only as strong as a man, so when you meet an angry man with a gun in his hand, you better not doubt that he will and can, be a dangerous man... the tune slipped out of his lips like dark, dulcet honey. It seemed that he had arrived at the tavern almost as soon as he left his home. There it was, staring at him, almost laughing at his ignorance and shame. He could hear the men and women inside roaring with laughter and drunkenness. He walked up, slowly, as a puma would, to focus in on it's prey. As he got closer, he could see a man and a woman, with arms around one another, engaging in conversation with the bartender. He could make out the dark golden hair and the sleepy, seductive eyes of his wife looking at the much younger and attractive man she was with. Ex snarled in anger and stormed in. With crazed eyes and a gun in his hand, everyone stopped in their tracks and let the madman through the crowd. Some bigger men tried to stop him, but Ex shoved them away, and like rag dolls, they fell against the bar in their drunken state. To be continued...