Convict[X] - Chronicles of the betrayed

[Forsaken]

Please do not post here unless invited or have recieved permission from myself. Thanks! For those who want a "Cliff Notes" version of the character I am role-playing, here you go...

This character is one who feels life has dealt him a bad hand. He feels as tho he has great potential, but looking back at his life he finds himself in the worst situations imaginable. Along the way, his belief that survival is worth ANY cost, even his humanity, has cost him exactly that. Unable to remember his past, he attempts to decipher how he became this way, to reveal his identity (which he has somehow managed to forget in his stuggles), shed his feral nature, and to find his purpose in life.

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Planet Crete
Omicron Gamma System
December 28
2113

Too much has happened in my life to remember it all. There are some things I can not remember, and there are memorys that can not be forgotten. Much of this tortured life is sad, full of anger, sorrow and futility. Many weaker of heart than myself would have ended it all, but I am a hardened warrior. The desire to figure out who I am, and the reason I must live my existance this way drives me like an infernal fire within my being. All remorse and fear are gone, all I have reaped from my trials are numerous scars which cover body. Wise men say, all things have a purpose, I have yet to find mine. I assume I will find out once I figure out my name.

All I know is, I am called... Convict[X]. Hopefully my beloved journal will lend me the clues I need.

*sets down cardamine pipe and picks up hololog journal*



[color=#FF0000]Journal Entry 1- (17 years, 3months, 16days ago)

Father sent this journal, advising me to document events in my life, he says it could help me one of these days. Despite beliveing that this is a horrible waste of time, I will attempt to make entrys when I can.

Today is my 3rd week at the Military Academy. Everything here seems so... natural, its like this is a destiny I am fulfilling. As I look around at my fellow cadets, struggling to make the grade, it confounds me as to why they find it so difficult. Despite this, there are several cadets besides myself who are excellent pilots. Unfortunately, I have found it impossible to befriend them. They, being aristocrats and related to the Chancellor himself by blood, refer to me as inferior. It seems to me that all assumptions that the caste system applies in a the Rhienland Military Academy is ludicrous. Here we are nothing, but cadets, mere neophytes learning the ways of war. Soon I will prove to them that they can not best me.

End of Entry