Information

Zonja
Legacy Name: ~Galeru~

The Spectrum Dragarth
Owner: DarkSaint

Age: 15 years, 4 months, 1 week

Born: December 7th, 2008

Adopted: 15 years, 4 months, 1 week ago (Legacy)

Adopted: December 7th, 2008 (Legacy)

Statistics

• Level: 24
   
• Strength: 23
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 27
   
• Books Read: 16
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Register Supervisor

Chapter 1
Zonja's Despair

Zonja stared down at the blank paper beneath her pencil, without a shred of motivation to make any sort of mark. Before, she had been the archetype of an optimist: an artful, free spirit full of caring and warmth. But today, her usual characteristics escaped her. She had just returned from the funeral reception for both of her fathers, and her coat was still dripping by the door. In the silence of her misery, the rainwater which had been acquired from the dismal event could nearly be heard as each drop met the floor.

Zonja grimaced, and her eyes glistened. Finally, from the silence she cried out, "This is STUPID." She threw her pencil against the wall, and swiped the untouched sheet from her dinner table. She stood from her chair in a hurry, and paced her way over to the livingroom of her third floor apartment.

"Why!?" She cried out, "Why did this have to happen to THEM!?" She stopped at the bookshelf, where a picture of the three of them was propped up by the Eevee plush that they had made together at Build-A-Bear. As she stood there, her mind rushed with memories of her fathers: movie night, taking off training wheels, their doting on her artwork before it was good, making her eat her broccoli, the whole bit. She wanted it all back. No one could have asked for better parents, and now they were gone, all because some ditz ran a red light.

"That's all it took. Wrong place, wrong time. A second earlier or later, and they would've been fine. And you didn’t care, God, Mr. Almighty, good for nothing, creator of the universe. Dad believed in you, despite what your stupid book says about him and Pops, and you could’ve saved him but NO. Now I know you don’t exist, because Dad and Pops were GOOD people, and if you were real, you wouldn’t have let them die."

Zonja wiped her tears and turned to the window. It had just gotten dark, and the neon sign of the night club across the street was illuminated down below. She had never been to The Rompin' Zebra, nor was clubbing her thing. But at that moment she desperately required a change of scenery to distract herself from her present emotional state.

"I need a drink." She said. She proceeded to the restroom, thinking she'd gussy herself for the occasion. She managed to use eyeliner, then mouthwash, and finally threw on an old shawl before reasoning that the job was done well enough. She had one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and made her way down to the street. At least it had stopped raining.

Follow Zonja to The Rompin' Zebra

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