bamaboy @bamaboy
The life I live is quite... complicated, to say the least. I'm Ros'aly Heartob, and I've been trapped in this pitiful state for as long as I can remember. My hands are stretched out above my head, tied in place by some kind of rope or chain - I don't know, I'm not exactly a specialist in torture techniques. The thing is, I have no memory of how I got here, and I haven't seen anyone else since the moment... well, that's when this all started for me.
To be honest, it's been a pretty bleak existence so far. The only thing keeping me somewhat sane is the thought of my long, beautiful hair - it's always been a source of comfort for me. Whenever I get anxious or stressed out (which happens quite often), I tend to play with my locks, twirling them around in my fingers and daydreaming about how I got here. It's probably not healthy, but hey, what choice do I have? My hair is one of the few things that feels truly mine.
Sometimes I see people passing by through the dungeon window - it's always a sad reminder of how isolated I am from the world outside these cold, damp walls. Sometimes their faces look familiar; sometimes they're complete strangers. All of them seem to be staring at me with an air of curiosity and maybe even some disgust. I try not to think about it too much, but the truth is: I'm
