Information

Riotous
Legacy Name: Riotous

The Nightmare Rreign
Owner: Sangria

Age: 14 years, 6 months, 5 days

Born: October 14th, 2009

Adopted: 14 years, 6 months, 5 days ago (Legacy)

Adopted: October 14th, 2009 (Legacy)

Statistics

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

London 1830 - The Diary of Timothy James

Diary Log #25: Today was a marvelous day. For some reason, the air today was light and surprisingly refreshing. The flowers had recently started blooming and while beautiful, they have caused my allergies to act up. Alas, you can never win at everything. I feel kind of odd for writing all these thoughts down, though it has said to relieve stress and I suppose, one day I could look back and read these happy thoughts during a sad time and that could make everything better. Ameile had taken his first steps today as well. The look on Joyce's face was better then any amount of sunshine. Her smile seems to always be able to lift my heart. Being a man of twenty-six, I could say that I'm one of the luckiest men alive. I had met Joyce at a small dinner party with my parents when I was younger and who knew she would end up being the one I love most; Ameile being just as equally precious to me. I wish this would be the life I will live forever.

Diary Log #47: It seems I have grown quite lazy over the months with writing in my journal, but nonetheless, many things have happened which will make up for the other little tidbits. Ameile had spoken for the first time--his word being "mommy" and several days later, he was able to say "daddy." Truely, one of the best things of being a parent is seeing their child grow. My work has grown more straining the last few weeks; but I have yet to miss out on anything important in my family. Oh dear, I sound like a love-stricken father, but... I am. I seemed to have lost my train of thought...it is dinner time and Joyce is calling my name, I must finish this later.

Diary Log #89: I was told to bring three things with me. I picked my journal, my necklace with a picture of Joyce with Ameile hidden within a small heart, and all the clothes I had on myself. My journal and the necklace were going to be the only things that could keep me sane through these next few months. The clothes I had on were just so I could feel presentable as now my pride was the only thing that left of me apart from my name. The room was made of rubble and there was barely a bed in the corner. My door was bolted with only a small window for food. There was a little gated window at the very top where I could not reach. Luckily, with the door, I could at least use the bathroom in private. I didn't know why I'm here, they never made it clear to me. As they came in my room, the letter contained 'high treason' was pressed to my face, and they took me away in cuffs and a blindfold. I could only hear the cry of my son and my wife as I was dragged out of my home and thrown into a bolted carriage. I have not met a person I could talk to as of yet. Hopefully, I make it out. Surely, this had to be a mistake.

Diary Log #90: Have this what I have been reduced to? Rags and shoveling dirt? Eating this slop they call food. What is this. I feel like I'm slowly losing myself. They will not tell me the date or even the time. I can't even call them humans. How can something that strips people of everything they have -- their life, their sanity, their being -- be called human? Granted, some people in here deserve it, but certainly not me. Every day, I see myself in the mirror and I question whether or not I am the same anymore. My eyes had gotten dark, my hair is starting to gray, my face sags with the weight of exhaustion and lack of sleep.

WORK IN PROGRESS

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