Information

Sasha
Legacy Name: Carver

The

Glacier Devonti
Owner:

Prose

Age: 14 years, 2 months, 2 days

Born: March 3rd, 2010

Adopted: 14 years, 1 month, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: March 11th, 2010

Pet Spotlight Winner
December 2nd, 2012

Statistics

Level: 5
Strength: 12
Defense: 24
Speed: 10
Health: 13
HP: 13/13
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

I learned about my father's death from the front page of my evening newspaper.MURDER, the headline read. Death by successful businessman.We were never really close, the two of us. But you'd think that the death of your last surviving family member would be something someone would contact you about.I learned that night that his death wasn't the only thing about my father that I had been oblivious to.It was a scene straight from the set of some thriller film. I was sitting alone in my apartment, just having read of my father's demise, when someone knocked on the door.Next thing I knew some brute of a man had a gun pointed at my head. These two guys forced their way in, locking the door.You Ivan's son? The littler guy had one of those grating New Yorker accents. I just nodded. So whoever killed my father wanted me dead too. Apparently dad had made some enemies since I had last seen him.I was forced into a chair, and the little guy handcuffed my hands together behind the back. Because little, scrawny ol' me looked like such a threat.That's when I learned that my dad wasn't just some bartender on Times Square; he'd been involved in a crime ring for years. He was a hitman. He killed other people just to make a quick buck.But he'd slipped up. He had gotten careless in the end and couldn't finish a job. I like to think he just wanted an easy way out.And so these two 'gentlemen' were here to 'recruit' me in my father's place. They made it pretty clear that I didn't have much of a choice. Apparently, my father had some sort of debt to his boss, which explained why I got off the hook so easily after my drunken car wreck a few years prior. This debt needed paying, and it looked like it had fallen to me to clear my family's name.But don't think I felt honored to do such a thing, oh, no. It was explained to me in lovely detail exactly what would happen to me if I refused. I was stuck in the job thanks to my idiot father, and I sure as hell didn't know how to kill a man.And so began my life of crime. I started almost six years ago, and I'm not even a halfway there yet. I was forced to drop out of school, and, once you kill someone, you're never the same mentally. I suppose it's only a matter of time before I end up like my father.