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Name: Antony Vaughn

Nicknames: Tony

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Gender: Male

D.O.B.: 1 September, 1996

Age: 9

Height: 3’8”

Weight: 70 lbs

Build: Scrawny

Predominant Features: Lack of color-coordination

Personality: Tony is a quiet, soft-spoken individual, though very much a loner. From his color-blindness to his “odd” tastes, he has never had any real friends, but he still manages to keep a positive outlook on life. He is always enthusiastic and despite his shyness he is willing to help anyone who asks him.

Appearance: Tony is very short and skinny for his age, though that could be attributed to his history. His hair is shaggy and green – and though most people believe it’s because he dyes it green, his age and the fact that even his roots are green (always) leads those who know him well to believe that it might just be natural. He has kind, orange eyes, and there are those who question his parentage – not only his ethnical roots, but his racial roots. Because he is colorblind, Tony just puts on any clothes that he can find that are comfortable, usually clothes that are too big for him. He refuses to let his foster mother choose his clothes for him, because to him it doesn’t matter if they match … he only wants to be himself.

History: Tony’s parents were killed in a car crash when he was five years old, and his earliest memories are those of going from one foster family to another. His eyes were damaged in the crash, and he lost the ability to see in color. He found, however, that it gave him an advantage of sorts: he could see depth and movement where most people would miss it due to their eyes being attracted to color. He used this to his advantage in videogames and sports. On his ninth birthday, Tony moved in with his tenth foster family – and for the first time, he seems to be accepted for who and what he is, and now his family is talking about adoption, which is his dream. For Christmas, his foster parents bought him a skateboard, which he uses to get to and from school by himself.

Art: Fan, Fan-certed

Types in: [This]

Mowing lawns and shoveling snow were things that Tony was good at. Very … very good at. Why? Well … some people would say it was because he was a hard-working boy who knew how to show respect for people and earn his own money, but he knew the truth. It was because he couldn’t see in colour. Where others saw a sea of green (a concept he only knew by description), he saw tall and short. He never missed a strip of lawn like the other boys in the neighbourhood did. He didn’t just shovel enough snow to make a driveway or sidewalk usable, he shoveled until it was nothing but pavement. And so he got the extra money, tips for a job well-done, rather than a base price like the other boys in the area.

On this particular day, he was in a hurry. He wasn’t dirty, he wasn’t sweaty, but the moment he came home from school he hollered “Hi Mom I’m going to have a bath I’ll be out in a while!” and then disappeared into his bedroom. There, he opened his backpack and took out a bag, then threw his pack on the floor and tore open the packaging that he was holding. There was an egg inside: see-through and nearly as big as his head with a shiny band-type thing around the middle with a label that read “Descending Angels”.

On a card inside the packaging were directions that instructed him to open the egg inside the bath, as it contained water and would make a mess.

Tony had been saving up for an Angel Egg since the first time he had heard of them, two foster homes ago. Sad, yes, but that was how he counted the passage of time. He thought about this as he started up the bath. He hadn’t been with this family for very long, but this was by far the place that he liked the most of all the places he had been. He had his own bedroom, nice clothes, and best of all, kind foster parents who loved him back and treated him well – despite his oddities.

Finally, he was able to slip into the bath with his egg. He hoped the water inside the egg wouldn’t be too cold – he had his bath water just the right temperature and cold water gave him goose bumps. He leaned against the back of the tub and held the egg between his knees for a few minutes, just soaking in the warmth and staring at the formless body nestled in the amniotic-like water of the egg. He liked the contour of the doll, the way the light reflecting off the water rippled across the doll’s outer skin.

Well, time was pressing, and the water was starting to get cold on its own. He pressed his thumbs into the seal and gently pried it open, his heart pounding wildly as the water spilled out into the tub. He could already see in his mind the finished doll’s look, and now he couldn’t wait to set it all up.

A brand new (well, refurbished) laptop had been another gift from his foster parents, and once he was finished with the bath that was his next stop. He inserted the disc with the program to begin his angel, then cracked his knuckles and got down to work.

The first prompt appeared on the screen: GENDER? _

The boy thought a moment, glancing at the angel that was in the strange case beside his laptop, then lifted his hands and typed in his reply: MALE.

A slow grin crept over Tony’s face then, and he kept going through the prompts until he could see an image of the potentially completed angel on the screen: male, medium weight, focus on balance, medium skin (so that the shadows would be clearer), dark hair – short, like Tony’s – dark eyes …

He looked everything over again, then nodded and hit ENTER confidently. A minute later, his angel was ready.

“Excellent,” he breathed, taking the angel from its case. He looked around. He needed something to wrap around it …

He spotted a dark handkerchief – probably black, though of course he couldn’t be entirely sure – and tied it around the angel toga-style. Then he held his angel up and inspected it, grinning.

“You need a name,” he told his angel matter-of-factly. “Hmm …”

The toga tugged at his memory. Something about it …

“I know!” he exclaimed, grinning widely. “Caesar!”

Heck, the angel looked a little Hispanic, Latino, something like that. Caesar just wouldn’t do. No, not Caesar then. César. Spanish.

Now his angel was complete.