Monticello
Pet Name: Monticello
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Wintergreen Obsideon
Born: January 9, 2013
Gender: Male
MisticPal Name: Impression
MisticPal Age: 4334 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 10 / 10
Strength: 20
Defense: 0
Speed: 20
Intellect: 10
Misticpower: 1
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
Oh, there are many things to be said about the long dead, but most of them you should not like to hear. After a while they do not get too pretty, heh, you understand? Though I'm sure you are quite familiar.
Well no matter, Monticello can make anyone look good and new, no matter the issue, no matter how much coin in your pocket, Monticello is not in it for a profit you see. He helps everyone! For free!
Now, enough of the talking, let dear Monti know so that we may get started with this delicate procedure here.
Exactly just how long have you been dead?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ah, are you in need of the special services?"
ID No. 33M
Monticello; "hillock; little mountain"
guiding || selfless || lonely || wayward
"The Mortician"
Monticello died a long time ago. And when he died, he let a lot of good people down.
He was a caring, vibrant soul who touched so many. But when it came right down to it, he couldn't help anyone. He wasn't reliable. He was loved anyway, for who he was and for the way he inspired them to love themselves. He tried to be selfless, but he got so hung up on himself, there was a point where he couldn't even see past his own nose.
So, now that he is dead, he has been trying to make up for it.
Though he is a spirit he has no trouble appearing as if he were alive, whole, and solid. However it is highly advised that one refrain from physical contact. He provides services rendered, and most especially he helps take care of the bodies of the deceased, though he dabbles in other things such as medicine and postal work.
Monticello is kind, if not a bit macabre when left to his own devices. He wants to give people hope. He wants to remind them that there is more than the material world. He is here to bring out the spirit in people, to create wonder and show them how beautiful the world is. He wants to help people become more than think they could ever be.
But mostly he is here to love. To offer solace. To help those who need to mourn.
Monticello is a sure, strong, firm hand on the shoulders of all who need it. And he has vowed to keep being what people need, until he has nothing left to give.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dress the dead in Christmas lights
paint their clothes with thoughts of life
top their coffins with painted kites,
cover their graves with flowers.
Bathe their feet in sacred sand
wipe the years right off their hands
twist their hair in golden curls,
turn their gaze from life to death.
Crank their smiles into frowns
shut their eyes, sew their mouths
adorn their heads with thorny crowns,
and plant them deep, deep deep down.
Dress the dead in Christmas lights
and bury them in the ground.
-----------~-~-~----------~~-~-~-~~----------~-~-~-----------
Once, there was a tall, shaggy pony. He was handed a rough lot in life. No one had ever been kind to him and so he became timid and skittish. He was afraid of his own shadow. He was uncomfortable in his own skin.
But then a young girl came into his life. And after she met him, she began to love him. She loved him in the way that only those who had never lost could, recklessly, with no concern for her well-being.
For him, she was strong. When he was afraid she guided him. When he shied she was steady. When the shadows came out, she turned the lights on and left them on for good.
And so the timid pony grew bold. And they were brave together. They were more free than they could have ever been when they were apart. They rode to hell and back and remained unscathed. Together they could win wars and conquer cities, they could level the hills and tame the wind itself. They would be a magnificence to behold.
At least she thought they would be. At least she thought they could.
But they never got to be, because though the pony loved her, he could not stay very long.
He had somewhere else to be.
It not selfish to die, no, he only did what needed to be done.
But the girl who had loved him did not understand the urgency. He was gone and she was left abandoned and forgotten. There was no world waiting for her. There was nothing to fight for. She could win no wars and scale no mountains. There was no one worth loving like she had loved him, not when they could leave her at the snap of a finger. At the drop of a hat.
In the time it took for a single drop of blood to fall into the dirt.
And so the story goes, after her greatest friend died, she has never, not once, been brave since.
~
Monticello belongs to Apache.
Boxed WinterGreen on 12/31/13!
Pet Collections
Revelry
|