Information

Taibor has a minion!

Graves the Dancing Ghost Circle

Taibor
Legacy Name: Taibor

The

Bloodred Devonti
Owner:

twocents

Age: 13 years, 8 months, 4 weeks

Born: July 25th, 2010

Adopted: 13 years, 8 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: July 25th, 2010

Pet Spotlight Winner
April 2nd, 2013

Statistics

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

Seeing bad luck in your future

Ruffling a hand through black hair, Taibor groaned to himself. He pulled his hand away from the sticky mess, and sure enough, he saw the brilliant red already staining his fingers.

Surely no one else was as unlucky as he.

Stepping away from the Centropolis Police Station, his third visit this week, he took a minute to wallow in self-pity. How did these things happen to him?

Around him circled three spirits, three lost souls that had found him around a year ago and hadn't left his side since then. He knew he could blame his bad luck on them, but they'd just be scapegoats. He'd been unlucky long before them, and they were probably just another example of his ability to attract misfortune.

The ghosts, which he had collectively named Graves for his own ease, danced their malevolent dance all the way home.

Once inside his small home, which hadn't collapsed on him yet -- apparently, Lady Luck was saving that nasty surprise for some other day -- he rooted through drawers until he found what he was looking for.

Pulling the small bag out, he ignored the quickly drying blood in his hair. He spread the red glass beads on the floor. Mumbling to himself, he threw a pale blue crystal ball into the mix.

There he saw it. Sure enough, there was going to be a murder outside the Blue Building today. Or more accurately, there already had been a murder. He sighed to himself, and put the beads away. They looked pleased as he settled them back in the drawer with the many other beads he had.

He came from a long line of future tellers. His family couldn't tell fortunes, brew potions, or meddle with herbs, but they were good at using crystal and glass beads to see into the immediate future. Everyone except him.

Instead, the beads seemed intent on lying for the sole purpose of leading him into misfortune. He'd check for the day's happenings each morning, and the beads would recommend that he stop by the Blue Building, for example, and he would. It was like the future wanted to trap him. He'd always stumble into a murder scene, a recent mugging victim, someone who committed suicide, or something along those lines. As a result, he was almost always covered in blood, and it was a sticky, uncomfortable feeling.

Then, like today, if he came home and checked the beads for the past, they would accurately show the crime scene he'd just stumbled through. If inanimate objects were capable of cruelty, these beads certainly were.

He had tried everything he could think of to get around it, but anything he did to avoid luck's cruel tricks just made things worse. He tried seeing into the past when he woke up, instead of predicting the future, but the beads would fog over and wouldn't read correctly. He tried seeking the advice of his family members, but they would just mock his failures and wouldn't actually help.

His worst attempts to avoid the horrors were when he tried to ignore the beads entirely. He would see that the beads wanted him to go to the Carnival, for example, and he'd deliberately avoid that area. But then, luck would change things so that he wasn't just a passive observer with an unfortunate ability to stumble onto bad scenes. Instead, he would arrive right in the middle of someone else committing a crime. Lying down in the middle of bank while it was being robbed was far more terrifying than simply stumbling into the bank after it had been held up.

With no other options, Taibor had given up. If luck wouldn't let him change his fates to something more positive, then what could he do? It was clear that his destiny actively hated him.

Graves began singing in low moans, or at least, he assumed the noise was supposed to be a melody. Taibor opened his mouth to shush them, but thought better of it. It served as mood music for the story of his life.