Display Name: Hasaki
Age: 18
Gender: Male

Zhang walked calmly through the field, bow slung across his back and his hook swords attached to the bow. He had come to this place to train, as he did every day. The grass was slightly damp with dew, yet the ground underneath was not muddy. There was an occasional breeze, but nothing more severe than that. It was the perfect day to shoot. At the end of the field, there stood a single oak tree, lean and gnarled, but very stable. It had probably stood in this place for decades. It was perfect.

He strode up to the tree, stopping a few feet from it, and slowly drew his bow from his back. The bow was a good 5 feet from bottom to top, strong and powerful, with places to attach his hook swords right over his hand. This way, not only was his hand protected, but it also made it easy to switch from long range combat to short range. From the quiver that hung on the small of his back, he pulled a single, straight arrow and balanced between his pointer and middle fingers, the protective leather glove that he always wore helping to grip the wood of the arrow. He fitted the arrow to the string and held it for a moment, just breathing.

His father had been a Firebender, he had never been gifted with such talents. His own talents however, were derived from the same principal. Breath. Deep breaths in through the nose, and out through the mouth, his eyes shut. The slightest imperfection could ruin his shot. A secret known to the Yu Yan was the trickery of the heart. Every time the heart beats, a slight tremor runs through the body. This tremor can mean the difference between perfection and adequacy. In the Yu Yan, nothing less than perfection was accepted.

His breathing and stance, bow held outward, and arrow knocked, but not drawn was a form of meditation. After a while, Zhang's sympathetic nervous system became relaxed and serene. His hands steadied even more than their usual unmoving state, his muscles relaxed, and even his heart rate softened. He was ready, and he opened his eyes, fixing them on a single spot on the tree. In one fluid motion, he drew back the arrow and loosed it, the arrow burying itself into the wood of the tree a mere 10 yards away from where he stood. The distance was irrelevant, it was the visualization of the shot. That one, perfect shot that he may one day have to take. When the shot would present itself was a mystery, but all archers believed that the chance would come. Without loosing his mindstate, he repeated the action, drawing and releasing in one motion, the bowstring pulled back to full draw without effort. The second arrow split the first down the middle.

Zhang smiled and turned, walking away, measuring the distance in his head. Judging distance was an integral skill for an archer. He counted out 30 yards and then turned, drew, and loosed another arrow. However, instead of splitting the second arrow he had fired, this third arrow skimmed the side of the last arrow, shaving off one of the three guiding feathers on one side. A perfect hit. He turned again and continued, walking another 30 yards. Turn, draw, loose. Another arrow shaved off another guiding feather. Again he turned, walked another 30 yards, and from 100 yards now, made the same shot. All of the shots had been dead on.

A bird's cry brought his attention up. Far ahead, a Tiger Hawk circled in the air, it's wings spread, stripes visible to the former Yu Yan. Tiger Hawks were the predators of the skies, and many believed them to be natures archers. Committing to a single strike, and then launching itself silently at it's target. Zhang drew another arrow and knocked it. He drew the powerful bow to full draw, his shoulder muscles bunching and standing out on his back, but he was used to it. The strain was very manageable. He waited, a premature shot would be as disastrous as a late shot. He waited, waited, waited...

As if a light turned on in his mind, he recognized his moment and the arrow exploded forth from the string, sailing true. It flew and struck the Tiger Hawk in the throat, the powerful bird cartwheeled out of the air without a sound. "Thank you..." Zhang said under his breath, thanking the bird for giving it's life up in order to sustain his own. He took off after where the bird had landed.

About 45 minutes later, the bird was plucked and on a spit over a small crackling fire. Zhang checked it, deemed it ready and drew the spit off from over the fire. His bow lay beside him, a feather from the Tiger Hawk tied around the base of the handle. He respected the animal although he had killed it, and did not wish to waste the life that he had taken out of necessity and hunger. As he took a bite, he looked at the feather, and could only hope that it would help to guide his hand and his bow in the future.

Hasaki - Good job! It was well-written, though the end confused me, because it was just one word, but... ACCEPTED

Display Name: Deng Tian
Age: 20
Gender: Male

An inexplicable feeling washed over the man known as Deng as he realized that the tyrannical rulings of his family were a thing of the distant past. He tensed his fists in frustration trying to come to terms and understand the feeling before it struck him. The feeling wasen't that of rage but freedom and a wicked smile slowly crept it's way across his lips. Deng took a few moments to gaze about his surroundings before looking up at the sky and bellowing out a triumphant roar.

The wanderer unraveled the map that he took with him and began to look for any nearby settlements. After noting the closest one he began the long trek in the general direction of his target. Slowly he began to ponder the meaning of his life and his purpose. At first it seemed obvious, follow orders, obey his father's wishes, serve his country and although he agreed to these simple rules he began to wonder what he wanted out of life.

The journey took up half a day and his thoughts were getting him nowhere. Instead, his legs began to get sore from all the walking and his body was becoming more weary with each passing minute. Sweat began to bead up on his forehead and he was able to calm his growing frustration by repeating to himself that he finally arrived at his destination.

Slowly he made his way to the nearest building where he sat with his back against the wall. There he listened to the people around him. Fire Nation, just like himself, however he felt no connection with them at all. Not because their views were different from himself but because they were able to interact with one another so easily. Humans felt almost like an entire different species to him. Especially villagers. Watching them interact and go about their lives made him feel sick to his stomach.

Deng Tian laughed to himself and spoke quitely, "They're like insects. Running about with no sense of direction or purpose. Their life lacks beauty and never do they strive to be anything more than they are." but even saying these words he felt that it was he who did not feel alive. All his life he felt like he didn't exist in this world and that everything around him was a beautiful, nightmarish illusion.

His hands became hot with anger and with a growl he rose to his feet and began to storm off down the alley but was stopped by a brutish man with massive muscles. A twelve inch dagger in the guy's hand. The giant opened up his bass like mouth and spoke in an aggressive tone to Deng, "Hand over what you have and maybe I won't hurt ya much." Hatred welled up in the Fire Bender and thoughts began to race through his head. How dare this man challange me? Who does he think he is?! Does he really expect me to hand over MY money? I'll destroy him! thought Deng.

Realization came to Deng as his lips formed the last line and he knew the answer to his questions was right in front of his face the whole time. The same questions that had plagued him since childhood were coming to an end. By destroying those who cross him, those that were unworthy, he would be singlehandedly proving his existance! The life that he led his entire life was the answer all along. Purge the weak from the world, destroy the insects, and create a paradise.

Nonbenders were the problem. Nonbenders like the man in front of him. Deng decided that he would create a paradise for himself and the firebenders. Everyone else shall be purged from the land. The wicked smile from before once again leapt across his face and Deng shot back with a mocking tone, "I'm not giving you my money but I will give you something else in return." and with that he kicked towards the man, fire leapt from his feet, and the flames began to lick towards the bandit's face.

The war was on.

Display Name: Ruiling
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Slowly, a head lifted from the ground. Ruiling fought the sting the rays of light brought from opening his eyes. Sitting up he rubbed the remnants of sleep from the corners of his teal eyes. Yawning and stretching his hand to the vibrant blue and white sky above. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the serene sound the creek beside him brought.After a few moments of allowing himself to wake up Ruiling stood. He ruffled his hair into somewhat of a style and fixed his twisted and wrinkled blue and white clothes into their correct positions.

Surveying the land around him he was relieved to find it the same as it was before he went to bed .The emerald grass still flowed back and forth with the wind's demands. The orange clay was still a trap for the sun's light, and heated the area. The trees were bold and powerful dotting the horizon. The birds soared high in the sky occasionally screeching, making their presence known to all.

Ruiling breathed in the unspoiled air, and let out sigh of contentment. He slowly walked over to the creek that carved it's winding way through the land. Bending over he cupped some water into his hands. He took just enough time to study his angular face before throwing the water into it. He then rubbed all of the dirt that had accumulated on his face from the previous night from their resting places. He then sipped some water from his hands and felt the the liquid trickle down his throat, to his stomach. He felt well rested and was ready for Practice.

Ruiling was religious when it came to his Water Bending. He practiced everyday of his life and had even trained with Master Pakku when he was younger. His skills came in handy for the time he was in the army, and now exploring the wilderness it still helped him.

He assumed his stance and drew his breath. It was all but second nature to him now. He then closed his eyes. Letting everything go, focusing only on the water within the creek. Then when he knew the time was right, he arched his hands up ward summoning a sliver of water to rise from the creek. He them brought the water closer to him. He assumed a defensive stance , and then the dance began. He moved in rhythmic fluid patterns. Whipping the water here and there staving off imaginary foes. His clothes and hair danced with him as he went. He jumped and twirled the water underneath him causing one of his imaginary foes to fall. Then he sliced into the earth where the foe's neck would be.

Once he had systematically picked off all of the underlings only the leader was left. Ruiling faced the leader head on. He tool another powerful breath and then began to move his arms in a circular pattern. This caused the water to take on a spherical shape. When Ruiling exhaled the ball began to congeal and harden. Now that the ball was pure ice Ruiling pushed his hands outward flinging the ball towards the leader. A few feet before impact Ruiling extended his fingertips and and flicked his wrists which was accompanied by a powerful yell. This caused the ice ball to shatter a few feet away from where the leader was. Sending huge chunks of ice some ,sharp enough to cut ,some dense enough to bludgeon. So instead of one easily dodged ice ball there were a bunch of pieces which careened into the leader, dropping him to his knees, then eventually to the ground, dead. He took a few relaxing breaths to clam himself down after such a good practice.


After he had successfully taken down an imaginary group of bad guys Ruiling laid down on his bed ,and looked to the sky. He watched the collections of cotton waft by. He longed to be able to fly up there with them . Lately situations had be clogging his mind, but when he took time to watch the clouds drift, it all seemed to float away, like water through a creek.

*Post may contain mild vulgar language.*

Display name: Rukia
Age: 16
Gender: Female

The night sky was abnormally clear albeit the small wisp of cloud the hung in front of the full, glowing moon. The cool summer breeze, the one that comes before one of those summer rains, was blowing through the trees, sending a shiver down the back of the small woman that was sitting in a willow tree.

The woman sat motionless in the tree, her jet-black hair sweeping to and fro in the wind that was blowing against her back. A tremor went down the woman's slender but toned torso, but her instincts were overruled by a superior force that even her complex nervous system had no capacity to question.

She only knew one thing: not yet.

The man on the ground had felt the same power pin him to the ground like a mantle of flat rocks. Spread-eagled, muscles and bones fused, his eyes were still moving, wild and wide, and he could see the woman in the tree staring back at him.

“W-what do you want?” The man lying on the ground asked, his voice unnaturally calm.

The woman in the tree simply smiled down at him, knowing what was about to come. Unfortunately, the man lying on the ground didn’t have the same pleasure. The woman in the tree jumped from her perch, gallantly, much like a hawk diving for its meal, and landed in front of the man cowering on the ground.

"No.." The man whispered. "I know who you are! You're!.."

The man stopped speaking as the woman, Saiko, Rukia, lifted a finger to her lips. Walking over the man, Rukia squatted down, her face inches away from the man's. Rukia gave the man a cute smile and stroked his hair.

"I'm not going to hurt you, baby." She cooed.

The man's eyes were pools of anxiety. He was scared to death of the woman in front of him, though she was acting the way she was. Suddenly, the man felt a searing pain on the side of his face. Rukia had dug her nails into his skin, leaving a scarlet red gash along the length of the mans face. The man reached his hand to the source of the pain. A dark sticky liquid coated his fingers; his own blood. The man looked up towards Rukia again and his eyes bulged. She had an arrow nocked and pointed straight at his chest.

"W-what are you planning?"

"I think you've already guessed," Rukia said. "I have spent the last thirteen hours tracking you, and now I'm going to tear you to ****ing pieces."

The fear in the man's voice was still reined in. Rukia wanted that rein to snap.

"I've got a deal for you." The man announced after a few seconds of silence.

"I'll listen. In a few seconds. First I have to get something." Rukia said casually. Her speech was becoming short and choppy. Her schizophrenia was starting to effect her mind more and more as time passed on.

Rukia smiled and released her grip on the arrow. In a split second it had reached its target. A small amount of blood splattered into the air as the arrow lodged itself through the man's wrist and bore into the ground.

When Rukia got back the man was saying "Rukia? Rukia? Rukia?" like a person yelling just to hear the echo. He had not tried to take the arrow from his wrist. The sound of something slicing into the ground was loud enough that the man heard it over his bellowing.

"What are you doing?" His voice was sharp with alarm.

"Idle hands do the devil's work," Rukia said. "I thought I'd keep mine busy while I listened."

Rukia dug into the ground again and threw another shovelful over her back. Now the man spoke faster, his voice more urgent.

"I'll give you anything you want and my personal guarantee that no one will hunt you for the crimes you've committed!"

Rukia paused and leaned on the shovel for a moment.

"Keep talking."

"Look, this is crazy," he said, and now Rukia could here the bright splinters of panic in his voice. "I mean it's just crazy. I'm a government official! This is just crazy."

"You got that right," Rukia said as she shoveled out more dirt.

The man, Xan Fa, held on longer than Rukia thought he could, talking, reasoning, cajoling — yet becoming more and more disjointed as the dirt pile in front of him became larger and larger, repeating himself, backtracking, beginning to stutter. At one point he tried to pull the arrow from his wrist. Rukia walked over to him and clicked her tongue. Lifting her foot into the air, she brought it down with her full strength on the man's knee. A loud cracking noise echoed in the night air. He screamed curses and didn't try to remove the arrow again.

He broke not long after. It was the sound of dirt being shoveled from the ground and the pain in his leg that did it. He must have finally realized that Rukia was digging his grave.

"Let me go!" He shrieked. "Please! I cant' stand it! Let me go!"

"Are you ready for the counter-proposal?" Rukia asked.

"Yes! Yes! God! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Scream. That's the counter-proposal. That's what I want. Scream for me. If you scream loud enough, I'll let you out."

The man screamed piercingly.

"That was good!" Rukia said, and she meant it. "But nowhere near good enough."

Rukia began to dig again. She didn't want to get rid of the earth with fire-bending, and didn't really know if it would take less time. Plus, this had to be far more maddening for Xan. As Rukia was throwing fan after fan of dirt over her shoulder, Xan screamed even louder. Rukia wondered if it was possible for a man to scream loud enough to rupture his own larynx.

"Not bad!" Rukia said, redoubling her efforts. "You might get there, Xan, you really might."

"Five million." It was the last coherent thing he said.

"I think not," Rukia replied, leaning on the shovel and wiping the sweat from her forehead with the heel of her hand. The mound of dirt was about five feel tall, and the hole about that deep and six feet long. "But I'll give you one more chance. If you can scream loud enough, I'll let you go, and you may count on it."

So he screamed, and Rukia shoveled the last of the dirt out of the hole. For some time indeed Xan screamed louder than he had before, but never loud enough. And by the time Rukia had gotten out of the hole and walked over to him, Xan was producing little more than a series of hoarse and broken grunts. Just for good measure, Rukia stomped on Xan's other leg. This time however, hardly a sound came from him; albeit the sounds of a grown man sobbing uncontrollably. Rukia was in a fit of mania now. She hardly felt the pain from her blistered and bleeding hands.

As she ripped the arrow out of Xan's wrist, Rukia grabbed him by the collar and drug him to the edge of the grave she had dug.

"Goodbye, Xan." She whispered.

Rukia kicked Xan into the hole. His body made a soft thumping noise as it hit the bottom. As truly helpless as he was, Xan still attempted to claw the sides of the grave in a vain attempt to escape. Rukia laughed as she started shoveling the dirt back in. After about another hours work, Rukia looked at the sky. The fingertips of dawn were stretching across the sky. Suddenly, Rukia had a panic attack. Another side effect from her damaged mind. Rukia looked around and started running. She had no idea where she was going, but she rain until her lungs were on fire and her veins pumped battery acid. Stopping, Rukia climbed into a tree next to the path she was on. Laying on one of the wider branches, she fell into a restless slumber. The first time she had done so in about two months.

Display Name: Zashiko
Age: 11
Gender: Female

The splash of golden orange had faded away, and now the west was painted with a faint brushing of pink. The mountains were a deep purple and stood proudly under the rose painted sky. A faint warm wind whistled through the forest, rustling the leaves. The sky had been clear all day and not even a small puff of white had been visible. It was strange for autumn. The leaves declared it proudly shaking their leaves as if to gather attention. Their remains littered the roads blanketing them in the most brilliant shades. Some were golden and others were scarlet. Others were a purple and some a regular brown.

Zashiko walked along quickly. She knew the daylight was fading, and quickly. She had taken off too late from the last city. She should have set off as the sun was over her head but she had waited longer than that. She had rushed to pack up her stall and get out of the city. It had been a rush hour. People had crowded the streets as they struggled to get to their homes and she had waited hours to get out. She paused for a moment sliding the pack off her back. She unwrapped the white cloth, grabbing a small bag filled with food and repacking it.

She was starving. She had skipped lunch and her morning meal had been when the moon had still been shining. She reached into the bag picking out some nuts and dried strips of meat. She walked simultaneously as she ate. She didn¡¯t want to stop, for two reasons. The day light would be gone soon and her eyes were her best sense. Without them she was stepping blindly and was too vulnerable to be comfortable. Another was that she felt like someone was following her. It was probably a silly notion. She¡¯d whirled around half a dozen times and seen nothing.

She was breaking many rules of hers. Showing an enemy that she was afraid would not do her much good at all. Still she could not be ignorant. She thought jokingly If only I had eyes that could look backwards. It did not ward off the chill she felt down her spine however. She tucked the empty bag of food into her belt fingering her dagger nervously. There were not many that wandered such empty roads in the time of winter. And why would one take such caution to hide from her? If someone really was on these roads that was.

A gust of wind blew through whipping up the leaves. She was rather startled and nearly pulled out her dagger. She mentally slapped herself again. Startled by the wind? She was going crazy. Still she continued gripping her dagger tightly. Her water skins were still in the process of drying. They were slung over the top of her pack, secured with the ropes that also held the pack on her back. She had no water although she knew water was nearby. After all that was where she always camped, next to a small stream.

She continued looking down the path, refusing to look back. She held her head rigid and it looked disconnected from the rest of her body. Her instinct was to run, to flee. But she didn¡¯t exactly know where this threat was did she? It could be high up in the trees or trailing behind her on the path. Her eyes darted over the path frantically. They Where was the stream? Her heart sank when she saw the large aspen. She remembered this from her journeeys down this road. The stream was still nearly five miles off.

Display Name: Chiye
Age: 16
Gender: Female <3

Please give me strength. Give me the strength to provide for the kingdom, and to lead my people through this hard time. If you can hear me, then answer my prayer and help me.

Though her prayer was done, Anne didn’t move from her position. There had to be something else that she could do, something else that she could ask from the Lord that would point her in the right direction. Hoping for a holy angel to appear before her, Anne remained on her knees at the foot of her bed with her hands clasped together in front of her and her back as straight as a board.

Anne furrowed her brow in concentration. “Bless my father and mother, who are with you now.” Wasn’t there something that she could pray to make the whole crisis pass? “Please keep the kingdom from the hands of Cousin Elric.” There had to be something that would save. “Help my kingdom through this.” There had to be something that would save her.

Anne unclasped her hands and sat back on her heels. The numerous petticoats and dress layers pooled around her in neat circles. Simply by habit, her hands folded together daintily atop the bright red and gold threads of her skirt. That was exactly the way that her mother had taught her to relax.

Suddenly, Anne jolted up and flew across the room. She didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but she knew that she had to do something to get the image of her parents out of her head. She ran to her dresser, the one with the enormous vanity with many shelves and nooks, and grabbed one of her powdered wigs. Her mother used to love this one, and Anne would occasionally catch her mother staring at her reflection as the wig was perched atop her head. She really was beautiful, even with the giant white powder-puff towering over her.

Anne spun on her heel and lifted the wig high over her head before thrusting the cursed hairball as far across the room as her tiny arms would allow. Turning back to the vanity, she snatched her father’s pocket-watch and banished it across the room as well. The wig and the watch were soon joined by the other trinkets of Anne’s possessions: a necklace that she received from her mother, a ring that her father used to wear, a dress that was designed to match her mother’s gown, and many, many other objects that she inherited upon the death of the king and queen.

Anne’s vanity was empty, but the boiling anger remained in her heart. How could her parents leave her at a time like this? How could they make her do something so big? She was only sixteen! She had no idea how to run an entire country!

“It’s not fair!” the princess shouted at her reflection. “Why me? Why now? Why couldn’t it be someone else? I don’t want this, I don’t want any of this!”

When neither the vanity nor her reflection responded, Anne spun and her heel and jumped onto her bed. The late Queen had always warned her daughter not to throw her body around, else her dress would wrinkle, but what did she know? She was gone. It was Anne’s own business if she wanted to walk into public with a dirty, wrinkled dress. It’s not like her mother would suddenly rise from the grave and slap the back of her hand.

Anne buried her face into one of the pillows. No, her mother would never come back. She was gone, her father was gone, and her childhood was gone. There was no going back. The princess would never see the King and Queen’s faces ever again.

“It’s not fair,” Anne whispered miserably into her pillow as tears started forming, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”

Memories from the good times started flooding the princess’s mind. Riding her pony, Amber, alongside her father, hiding behind her mother’s skirts during a social gala, walking through the kingdom’s vast gardens with the both of them—everything. It was all gone.

“Remember, Anne,” The King used to say, “You’re going to rule one day. It will be hard”—here, he paused to shake his head tiredly—“But it is your responsibility. Be strong, and you will lead our nation into an era of prosperity.”

The words were so bittersweet now. Anne’s father had ruled the kingdom with justice and fairness, and he still managed to be more than a wonderful father. Could the princess even measure up?

She had to. Rising from her soaked pillow, Anne clenched her hand in determination. She missed her parents, and she always would, but this was no time for mourning. A problem was facing her, and this was perhaps the greatest problem that would ever face her. The kingdom—her kingdom—was going to pass into the hands of Cousin Elric. Unlike the late King, Elric would undoubtedly lead the nation into war against an ally. The cruel relative spoke against all of the wealth and power that the ally had obtained, and there was no doubt in the princess’s mind that the man would do such a heinous thing as war.

It would be the death of Anne’s kingdom.

The only way out of it was to become queen. The only way to do that, however, is to get (gulp) married.

Anne folded her arms and stalked to her balcony. This was, by far, the best place for thinking. The balcony overlooked the castle grounds, and if you squinted you could see the capitol. The princess took a deep breath of fresh air and let it out with a sigh. This wasn’t exactly the best time for sightseeing.

While she dearly wished for reform of the archaic marriage laws, three months was too short a time to lead a revolution. She had to get married to someone, and quickly. The options were limited. She could find a knight somewhere, make a tournament to find the bravest and most noble. No, that wouldn’t work. There was no way to really know a person’s character in only three months, and Anne couldn’t take the chance to give her kingdom to a less than honorable person. She could also marry a prince from a neighboring kingdom. That would solidify an alliance at least. No, that would be even worse. While there was a balance in the world powers, it was a shaky balance. Joining this kingdom with another would result in jealousy among other nations.

"The only option left," Anne thought as she rested her elbows on the balcony railing, "is to marry a villager."

Yes, that could work. The princess had often travelled into the capitol to meet with her friends. Maybe they were commoners, but they had pure hearts and they would take a backseat to allow Anne to rule the kingdom. Now there was only the question of who. Admittedly, there were only two men in the village who were up to the job. Gabriel and Timothy.

Gabriel was the more romantic of the two. After a life of working at his father’s flower boutique, the boy must have picked up on some tips for wooing women. That, combined with his naturally radiant face, made him seem like a good husband. In fact, Anne was often caught looking longingly at him, and he was known to return the glance. Yes, Gabriel was the princess’s secret crush. Not just because he was beautiful, but also because he was sensitive. This was probably, however, more of a curse than a blessing. Anne just wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle the pressures of ruling.

Conversely, Timothy had a much colder personality. He was distant, plain, and uninteresting on the surface. After years of being friends, however, Anne grew to know him as more of the strong, silent type. Timothy was reliable, trustworthy, and noble. He would make a wonderful king, but the princess may be forced to give up her own happiness.

With a deep sigh, Anne knew what the answer had to be. She reluctantly plucked herself up from the balcony railing and walked to her bedroom door.

“Wallis,” the princess said authoritatively to her personal butler, “please send a message to Timothy, the baker’s son. I would like to meet him for tea this afternoon to discuss a very pressing matter.”

Without taking another glance at Wallis, Anne walked back into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. Anne would surely learn to love Timothy in due time. He was, after all, one of her best friends. Besides, the princess’s personal life ended when the lives of her parent’s did. Her kingdom was all that mattered.

Kneeling daintily at the foot of the bed, Anne straightened her back and folded her hands together.

Please give me strength. Give me the strength to provide for the kingdom, and to lead my people through this hard time. If you can hear me, then answer my prayer and help me.

Deng Tian - This was a lovely post. You are a talented writer. However, we said at the beginning 'No Godmodding'. This includes NPCs of any sort, as stated in the opening post (NPC are allowed on the RP boards, but not for exemptions). However as your sample is well written and still makes sense even when you take out the godmodding parts, you are ACCEPTED.

Ruiling - This was a very good post; it flowed excellently, and there were no rule infractions of any sort. Good job. ACCEPTED

Rukia - You are, without a doubt, a talented writer. However, there was just too much godmodding in your post to be overlooked. Like I told Deng Tian, the opening post specifically states 'No Godmodding', and includes NPCs. If your post still made sense upon excluding any NPC activities, that'd be one thing — however, removing the NPC action from your post effectively destroys whatever flow you had. I'm not saying you're not a good writer - far from it. However, your post has not demonstrated that you can meet our length / detail requirement without controlling another character to interact with yours. Please go either sign up for the Battle Training (all three fights) or the Romance Training (one session). DENIED

Zashiko - Your post is good. It's detailed without becoming boring, and there is no NPC action at all. I do recommend finding a more creative way to speak of your character — you say 'Zashiko' once, and the rest of the time, I see 'she' and 'her'. Try adding description, like "The brunette girl", or 'The blue-eyed man", etc. Or, you can begin with an action, like "Whirling around, the monster.." Other than that, it's a great post. You might want to consider doing a complete session of training (3 battles or 1 romance) to try and improve this, but it's up to you. APPROVED

Chiye - Yes, yes, yes! This is brilliant, and exactly what we're looking for. The length is above and beyond what we require, NPCs are handled masterfully as to avoid godmodding, description is detailed, but not overly so, and the amount of backstory and character insight is just splendid. I'm so sorry you were stuck in training for so long >.< This is great, and I'm very happy to say APPROVED

Display Name: Hisui
Age: 23
Gender: Male

The morning sun was just rising above the horizon, the sunlight filtering into a small hole in the ground that led to a chamber just large enough to sleep in, and that is just what was happening. Hisui Kata was asleep in this small chamber, his yellow and brown army uniform covered in blood and burnt at a few of the edges. He barely got away from that attack upon his caravan and he was not in good condition. Looking around quickly after awakening to double check that he was not captured by the Fire Kingdom soldiers that attacked earlier he sighed in relief. He ran his hand across the side of his face and flinched as he felt a minor burn. Part of his finely trimmed beard was burnt off as well.

Standing up, Hisui picked up his uniform helmet and put it on. 'This may pose some sort of difficulty if anyone from the Fire Kingdom sees me.' He thought to himself as he collected the meager belongings he had left, some water and his Jade bracelet. 'As I recall, there is a loyal Earth village nearby. Maybe I can find a garrison to join, or some new clothes.' He concluded to find this town and figure something to do afterwards. Getting into a low posture he punched his hands out and into the wall, earthbending the rock to stay on his arms then moved more rock to make a coating around his torso as well, underneath his clothing to create a sort of earth armour. He then looked up at the hole in the roof and stamped a foot on the ground and raised himself up so he could take a quick look through the hole to see if anyone was around.

The area surrounding him was mostly forested, with a mountain to the east. The forest was a red tinge in the early morning sun. he forest was striking, there was even a platypus bear eating an early morning kill in peace, but this is not what drew Hisui's attention. Just at the edge of the forest there was the rubble of a wagon as well as the cooked corpses of a few Ostrich Horses. Surrounding them were the charred bodies of his fiends and fellow soldiers that came with him from Omashu. Hisui stepped out from his hiding spot and fell to one knee. 'I could not do anything about this.' He thought to himself, a few tears falling from his eyes. Looking up to his dead friends he stood up and walked towards them. He stared his work solemnly, moving his hands out in front of him as he starts his solemn dance that is earthbending. Hisui moves the earth, creating graves for each of his fallen companions and moves them into the empty holes and covers them. 'I was useless... How can I defeat the Fire Kingdom if I run away from five soldiers that killed my friends...' He looks upwards, a tear rolling from his eye as he mutters to himself. "Avatar... where did you go?" Hisui then stood up and started walking, towards Anu, a town nearby back towards Omashu.

The walk was long and difficult, Hisui drank the rest of his water on the trip and he kept off the paths and stayed away from any place that people may cross, in case the Fire Kingdom found him. The branches of the bushes he passed through tore at his clothes and slowed his pace, but he did not give up. Soon he crested a hill and looked upon Anu in despair. The village was burning. Anger flashed through Hisui's eyes but he would not let himself run into the village to face his death, anyone who is alive down there will be taken prisoner, anyone who is dead can't be helped. Hisui put a hand on his jade bracelet and looked up at the plume of smoke. 'Jishin... take care of Omashu and King Bumi. Defend the city with all your might." He said before he turned around and started walking back towards his original destination, the place that needed more soldiers, Ba Sing Se.

Name: Haruki Arata
Age: 13
Gender: Male

It had been the Summer of the Setting Sun when War Commander Darter Seastreak officially left the Guardians of Mossflower. He had been in a drunken fight in the Tavern, and decided it would be best for him to leave before he further ruined his reputation. Perhaps it been for the best, but many of the Guardians were unwilling to make such a change, thus leaving soon after Darter did. Commander Marie Blue-eyes, Commander Rosie, Commander Laylark, Lieutenant Sandegar, and Lieutenant Tritan all left, practically splitting the leadership. Only Captain Finnerator remained with some of the loyal Guardians. Even privates and some soldiers had left, but a few were more loyal to the Guardians' and the Pledge than to one leader.

Captain Finnerator took over command, but because there were only about nine Guardians, it wasn't much to lead. However, when it seemed that the Guardians of Mossflower were reviving well, vermin entered Mossflower. A massive horde led by Warlord Burde Throatslash were prowling about, but no one knew this until Nadia Darkon saw them while out in the woods. She had hurried back to tell Finnerator, but there was no way to prepare for the coming onslaught. Mostly foxes and ferrets made up the army, so they had size, but Burde was a Great Rat, and was a formidable foe even without the rest of his horde! Finnerator decided to stay at the Fort, hoping they would pass. If they didn't, they would fight there way out until they could evacuate.

Rinafera and Daisyblade had a child, Rinafera Clysul Foxbane Woxwitty IV, and so Daisyblade evacuated to Redwall Abbey to protect the young one. Rinafera, a Sargent at the time, was compelled to stay, but he promised Daisyblade: "If you jolly well believe in anything, believe in me, and believe in our fight." Burde's Horde did come, and they had trebuchets, battering rams, and all of the vermin were armed to the tooth. Finnerator and the rest fought off the first wave, but they sealed the gate as shut as they could and hauled it from a trap door, leading underground. This had been dug-out by moles on request of Darter when the Fort was first built, and it turned out to be in handy. Enough supplies were taken, and all of the Guardians split their separate ways.

Rinafera moved to Redwall for the time being, and until a GUOSIM (Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower) scout came to the Abbey and reported Burde gone, he was almost not going to return. The hare moved into a cottage near the Fort just to make sure the area was safe, and then he returned to Redwall. He had little to no communication with the others, so he didn't know where they were or if they were coming back. It had six seasons since the siege, and it was now the Winter of the Golden Ponds. Thus, Rinafera decided to venture deeper into the woodlands with his 13 season-old son who he called "Fourth," and Daisyblade, his wife.

***

The sun, a golden orb against the overcast sky, lifted above the trees and gave the woodlands light. A dark, dusty path was suddenly lighten up through the canopy of thick trees, and the hare was much more clear now. His wife, Daisyblade, yawned and threw down her knapsack. "Rina, I'm beat, can't we take a break, wot?" Rinafera's son, Fourth, nodded vigorously in agreement. The old hare removed his monocle, found a patch of dry grass (for it had rained the night before), and sat down. He smiled at his son and yawned; cloudy dawns always meant that the day would be pleasant. Fourth eyed his father's sabre, which was wrapped in a silk sheathe and finely polished, with awe. He scratched his head and wiggled his ears, nodding to his dad and then pointing to the sabre.

"Father, when am I going to get my own blinking weapon, eh, wot?" Rinafera chuckled, combing his mustache with his paw. The old hare sighed, and responded in a 'as a matter of fact' way. "Well, Fourth, I'll tell you wot. I will teach you for a jolly well couple o' seasons, and then I'll let you sign-up with the Guardians' and give you the weapon of your own bloomin' choice." Fourth smiled and pushed his ears out of his face.

"I'd love that, father! I'd bloomin' well love that, wot wot!" Then, the young hare took on a thoughtful, pondering gesture and combed his whiskers as if he had a mustache like his father. "I'd like to learn how to use a flippin' sabre, eh, just like you, wot!" Rinafera chuckled, nodded, and patted his son's head. He was one of the only Boundary Guardians who passed training from ten seasons before, and he wanted to see his other Boundary Guardian friend, Raiden. His whiskers, or a rather dignified mustache wriggled as he looked up, took a swig of Elderberry Cordial and then put it down to stand up. He picked up his knapsack and nodded nicely to Daisyblade. "Come on, we need to get jolly well moving, eh, wot!"

The three ventured off, and as they trekked, their feet grew tired. Fourth moaned about his stomach, but Rinafera gave him the "Warriors protect and finish the job before snacking." This was one of the reasons he left the Long Patrol a many seasons before; some of the recruits and even officers would stuff themselves before a battle or a mission. Sometimes it even interfered. However, they finally reached the clearing, and Rinafera knew exactly where he was.

A stretch of grass had been cut and all trees had been chopped down from that area. It was a perfect lawn, and it was still just as good, right in front of the Fort. The wooden fort stood just as it had before, but the door was splintered and broken, not to mention open. However, no one was there. There was no one in the fort or outside it. Rinafera pushed his way through the broken wood and found the Fort a mess. Broken plates and bowls were around, bones of fish were tossed about, and it looked like a group of vermin had a feast in their Mess Hall. The hare frowned, but at least they had left. Everything was either dirty or broken, and a group of bees made their hive in the corner of the Kitchen.

He weaved his way through the Fort, gazing around the inside. Finally, he was positive that there was no one there. The hare unsheathed his sabre, and Fourth watched in amazement as he took down the bee hive without disturbing the bees. However, little did they know that he was carrying them to the back pond. The hare saw the back lawn and sighed. This used to be an archery range and practice court; he even fought Songwind Oakbrush in a semi-finals spar here! It was littered with blood, food, berries, and other fruits. Rinafera tossed the hive in the pond and shuddered at how dirty it was. Guardians of Mossflower would have to do a lot of cleaning before they came back officially.

Rinafera came back to the front to see Daisyblade and Fourth. "Our quarters were the flippin' second door on the left of the second floor, wot. That's where you were a dibbun, Fourth, eh, wot wot. You all can go unpack your bloomin' stuff, chap and chapess." With that, Sargent Rinafera Clysul Foxbane Woxwitty strolled outside to the Front Lawn, and stared around the woods. Even if they couldn't hear him, he would yell out for all of the Guardians to return. "Guardians of Mossflower, come jolly well back! The flippin' scum have left, and we're ready to return, wot! Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Fourth and Daisyblade came down to see what caused the commotion and they nodded, standing beside Rinafera as he desperately awaited his comrades' return.

Hisui and Haruki - You both did good. Good job. ACCEPTED

Display Name:[/color] Kalim
Age:[/color] 17
Gender:[/color] Boy

---

The steam from the boiling hot cup rose from its container, wrapping its moist breath around the drink’s face. Warm and lightly scented, the oolong tea (with a light hint a mint) filled Kalim’s nostrils, which traveled through his body and extended to every inch of his body; opening every pore, blood vessel, and cavity. Breathing in the tea was as much of a joy as actually drinking it, for Kalim knew the rejuvenating abilities that the concoction sported, though medial in comparison to others. However, that didn’t stop the sinewy boy from gulping it down. Patience, though a virtue, will be tested later in his life; so no need for him to test his will power now.

So he dove his lips into the tea, allowing it to slowly fill his mouth, taking all the time he wanted allowing the murky fluid to fill his mouth and slide down his throat. Taking in the richness of the rather bitter tea, Kalim closed his eyes allowing the cup to relax his soul and mind, preparing himself mentally for the day ahead of him. His mind bounced from subject to subject, until finally it rested on a rather impressive thought that occurred to him. His life, only about a year ago, had been a bleak and dreary mess: working in the slums, having a neglectful father, and quite the low self-esteem to top all of it off—however, in what seemed to be in a blink of an eye, everything changed. Nothing in his life was how it was, including his very own persona. In the process of furthering himself, he had to leave behind his heavy past, and with a glimpse of the future—which seemed like the land of milk and honey compared to his dismal present, he easily allowed himself to do so.

Breathing in and out as he paced himself between swigs, he wondered where in the world his effervescent companion, Miyu, was this fine morning. Even though his rise to success was the reward of his own façade, he would have been no where if it was for the bubbly girl’s determination; the sheer thought of Miyu’s unknowing impact on him made him smile, for she was a simple girl who looked at each day as it was, living for the present. In an odd way, Kalim envied her lack of worry and her carefree nature; she was a free spirit through and through, and it showed in her dancing.

Ugh… Dance… The very thing that had set Kalim free from the shackles of the lower district in Ba Sing Se, had at the same time presented a brand new cage for him to feel trapped in. It was a rigorous art form that required, and demanded, complete concentration to perform. Along with this, dancing required Kalim to be nimble, flexible, quick thinking, and free; all of which he was rather novice in. But he had to give himself credit, he had progressed almost a thousand-fold from his previous year at the Academy; going from the beginners classes to the intermediate classes (though he was sure the only reason he graduated the lower level classes was because he kept trampling on the little girls).

However slow the progress was for Kalim, he knew he was thankful for the opportunity the Academy gave him; it put him on a new, pristine path that would eventually tone his body and hone his skills, which in this war-like time, was what every boy needed—who knew when a draft was going to be issued upon the men of Ba Sing Se, for a war was brewing outside the foreboding walls of Ba Sing Se, and in a way, Kalim felt sheltered from the world, not protected. But this was what his dancing was for, he was training to become limber and toned, so that one day he could travel the world outside the city and partake in serious training, not just this passive art. He was in a transition phase, just waiting for his enrollment to be over; but who know when that would be, and besides there was no urgent rush for Kalim to go throw himself on the battle line, this was just him thinking to far in the future.

Yet again his rather nasty knack of looking to far ahead caught him into a tangent. If he could just for a day see through Miyu’s eyes, he knew that it would improve his mind and give him a sounder heart. However, he was Kalim: good ol’ stuck in the future, passive, fraud of a nobleman, Kalim; and no matter how hard he tries to change himself, he knows that he will always come back to what is natural for him. So taking this with a good stride, he allowed the now lukewarm tea to sooth his beasts and calm his mind—however a bad job it was doing.

A loud ruckus of frantic curses came from down the hall of the manila colored mansion. Kalim closed his eyes, breathed in deep one final time, and swallowed down the last bit of his tea, for his peaceful contemplation time was over; for Miyu was soon to arrive. The lanky boy rested his head on his arm, propping his chin on his hand as he watched with an interested glance; Miyu had obviously overslept (for the umpteenth time this month) and was feverously searching for something in her room. Where Kalim was cool and collective, Miyu was the exact opposite: loud, free, and immediate. Though the duo was by no means parallels, they seemed to get along with each other dandily; genuinely appreciating each other’s company, though from time to time they’ve been known to strike a sour note or two between each other (but being in a such a close friendship, disagreements are bound to happen), they easily get over it and by this have learned to handle their contrasting personalities.

Kalim decided that it might be a smart idea for him to leave the house before Miyu arrived at the table, for if she was to find that he had enough time to prepare tea, sit for who knows how long, and waste time doing nothing but some how didn’t think of waking her, he was going to never hear the end of it. So with that he slowly cleaned up his place at the table and crept slowly outside the labyrinth of hallways that led to the entranceway. Though this wasn’t the most loyal of things to do, he knew Miyu far to well to get in the way of her tirades, so without any further ado, he left the house.

Outside the sun was high in the sky, shrinking shadows to mere inches. The sudden change of brightness invaded Kalim’s senses, causing a powerful sneeze to escape his mouth. Collecting himself along the way, Kalim trotted the cobblestone street to the Academy. Since Miyu’s home was located in the heart of the central district of Ba Sing Se, it took quite some time to arrive at the dance academy when traveling by foot, but he didn’t mind the venture, the walk usually gave him time to take in the day, and now with the absence of Miyu, he was going to be able to contemplate much deeper then he usually would.

The day was fresh and beautiful, with large fluffy clouds cumbersomely floating through the sky. The trill of cardinal-sparrows played softly in the tree’s over head and caused the whole scene to seem peaceful and serene. The landscape of the upper district was absolutely stunning, lined with beautiful marble homes and dusted with neatly trimmed shrubbery and gardens; it was in complete contrast to the slums that Kalim use to live in. Yet some how the memories of the slums had slowly became cloud, and as hard as Kalim tried to picture it, the grandeur of his new location flooded out the atrophied ruins of the slums. But no matter, why would he want to dwell on these things; the very things that caused him to live his childhood in shame and doubt? No, he did not care if he was forgetting; let me forget, for all Kalim cared, he was a new man now, and nothing was going to come between him and the path he was on, not even himself.

Display Name: Kai
Age: 19
Gender: Male

With a careful glance, the nameless one was able to ascertain three constants: He was alone, he had no idea where he was, and most painfully discovered and accepted, he had no idea WHO he was. That, of course, would be a brief but complete explanation of his situation, but even stranger was the setting. Around himself, the nameless one observed nothing but trees - trees that weren't particularly close together, but their foliage-covered limbs still wove a full canopy that allowed only dapples of light to bathe the forest floor. He wasn't sure, in addition, whether or not these lights were from the sun or moon, but somehow based on its light blue tint, its lustrous sparkle, and its almost tangible nature, he was led to believe that neither were the source. It wasn't unnatural light, it was just a new one. One he had never seen, but one that instilled wonder to counterbalance the horror of his realization - that he was a identity and memory lacking husk, and nothing more. The nameless one was more stunned by the fact he was so accepting of his lack of memories than he was that such an ill affliction had even become of him.
The forest floor was covered in a thin sheet of what the nameless one could only call "clean" fog. It was clear and glowed like the strange light that he couldn't perceive the origin of due to the trees, and did little to hide the tangled underbrush, which felt moist and living rather than crackling and rough under his bare feet. That did nothing to comfort him, however. Something about this place was unnerving, and a lingering sense of failure brooded over him, making him wonder if his lack of memories were more a punishment than an unfortunate circumstance. The nameless one wanted answers, and from where he was previously positive was a simple clearing did he view a statue.
From the distance it looked to him like a gray stone carved to look like a serpent, resting on its own stacked backs, in sort of a steep zig-zag. It was certainly a serpent, for it was carved to have scales, but had a sectioned, smooth underbelly as well.
He drew closer, the healthy forest floor silently accepting his steps until he reached the serpent statue, and more came into the clear. It was a serpent, one that appeared asleep, and on the side was bolted a plate of some metal material he could not identify - and on that the inscription that didn't help him attain any clarity of his situation.
"Fugue - the Limbo of the Fallen."
It sounded like some promise that he was dead, but he was surely living. He moved, he drew breath, he felt warmth...
He suddenly placed his hand to his face, then felt his chest. No breath. No pulse. Ice cold. Surely he was dead, then. Again, he was chilled, perhaps heartbroken to be so accepting of his quickly drawn conclusions, perhaps solely for the reason they were so hastily drawn. The nameless one's acceptance led him to explore the forest, and once the statue was out of sight he was certain he would never see it again. The forest was repetitive, however, its only variations manifesting in the forms of trees so gnarled they could not be forgotten and changes in terrain elevation that gave off the illusion of advancement towards civilization and answers he would surely never find.
The lethargic nature of the forest through which he had casually strode was contagious. He soon found himself tempted to settle down in the odd forest floor, where it would be no colder than his beat-less heart, and simply wait. But slightly longer did he continue, carrying an inexplicable mental burden that, even in this environment, prevented all attempts at easing his nerves and entering a state of relaxation. Yet, he felt ready to topple over if he continued his blind march to no destination, and so he settled down near a tree and closed his eyes, not with the intention to sleep but not enthusiastic to prevent a journey to the land of Nod, either.
So few things about this place, "Fugue," had been discovered - and yet he was certain he had it pinned for what it was. It was a limbo, a middle-life before the afterlife. When you fell the Death God claimed your Soul, and you passed on, but if your passing was untimely, 'too soon' as many called it, then the Death God wasn't always soon to respond. Thus, when it wasn't necessarily your time, it could be made so.
It was then that it would suddenly occur to Viron that he was widely knowledgeable of something - there was a memory. Wait, his name! Viron had remembered his name. Somehow he felt warmth restored to his body by this very realization, sudden as it was, but he soon realized that he had no idea why. Why did finding memories, experiencing warmth, seem so new and grand to him?
He opened his eyes, and realized he was inside what appeared to him to be a cathedral. The roof was far above him, and the ground a few feet below. He was laying on a cold stone slab surrounded by braziers and the smell of burning incense filled his nostrils, making them flare slightly. He was surrounded by men garbed in simple gowns, some holding tomes and others simply clasping their hands together in prayer. And none too distant was a diverse party of familiar faces.
Hadn't he fallen in battle? Yes... it was all clearing now. He had fallen defending his friends, and they could only do the favor of bringing him back before the Death God could claim him.
Viron didn't know, but he missed something now - he had known more than any other dead mortal before him, if only for a thought's second. He had known about Fugue, and at the same time knew why he was there, and whom he was, how he had gotten there. And in that instant, the crossing between worlds, those two memories intermingled and then bade each other farewell. Fugue was yet again an unknown, forgotten plane.

Kalim - Good job! You're a very good RPGer! ACCEPTED
< Katara Note: Just as I had predicted. ^_^>

Kai - You are also a very good RPGer, though I expected nothing less. Good job. ACCEPTED
< Katara Note: Seriously. Part of me thought 'why bother' on reading your exemption, because I already know you've got some |\/|4|) 5|<1775... I did read it though, to be fair, and I was not disappointed. >

Display Name: Iko Mitizai
Age: 17
Gender: Male

It was a bright, clear day overlooking a small, green valley. Not a cloud in the sky. Good conditions for a straight fight. Several detachments of a fire nation force were leaving their base, to make a strinke against an Earth Kingdom military outpost. Among these were Iko, and his detachment.

He had been given subcommand of a small regiment. The officer who had given him the news jokingly refered to them as "the Suicide Squad". Iko didn't think it was a very funny joke.
And here they were. Not dangerous, experienced foot soldiers with a tendency to disobey orders and rush headlong into battle as he had hoped, but rather, a bunch of green kids. Well, crap.
It's times like these, that I need a drink. Oh, and about fifty well trained soldiers. He thought.
One of his soldiers surreptitiously picked his nose. Iko glared at the kid, hoping he would have the presence of mind to put his finger away. Pulling garbage like that would not speed him on his way up the promotion ladder.
"Alright. Our mission is to take the outpost. Don't try anything fancy, and don't slaughter fleeing soldiers. Everybody got it?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer before bellowing, "Right, let's move out!"
That said, Iko marched in the same general direction everyone else had gone. He hoped his soldiers would remember they were supposed to follow him soon.

Display Name: Hiroshi Matsumo
Age: 13
Gender: Male

“Pain. That is all I felt back then or at least that is how it was supposed to be. This is so unrealistic. I am lying to myself, but I am speaking the truth. My words are spoken half-heartedly, but I am trying so hard. I really want to get away from all of this. I found a girl that loves me for who I am and I find myself here; standing in the rain. I am firebender, but I am so damn weak. Why is that I cannot summon the fire within me, and why did my life turn out like this. Shit, I am so pissed at myself. Nothing is changing; my life revolves like a game of dead man’s roulette. It continues to revolve until it reaches that cold shell and in an instant it’s all over.”

“Hiroshi what are you doing out in the rain?” A black haired young girl asked as she held out her soft hand. Hiroshi looked up his dreads adjusted so that the exposed his sorrow filled eyes. His amber eyes seemed dim as he stared at the beautiful girl before him. She had porcelain skin and black hair. Even in the murkiness of the thunderstorm and rain she seemed to glow. He peered into the girls eyes and he could see something. Compassion, empathy, and the unconditional love for those around you. This was rare in the Fire Nation and often labeled a sign of weakness.

Hiroshi took the girl’s hand and slowly raised to his feet the cold rain pounding down on his bare torso. The girl looked at Hiroshi worriedly knowing something was wrong and said, “You should not be here without a jacket. Here take mine.” Hiroshi shrugged it off signaling that he did not want the coat. He then maneuvered his dreads so that it concealed his emotion filled eyes. “I really don’t need it you can…” The girl began once more in an attempt to get him to accept her gift. However, Hiroshi shook his head in disapproval before he walked over to edge of the flattened hill they stood on.

The sight was like a painting. On the ground were various ornamented buildings all displaying Fire Nation colors. Black smoke rose out of a distant factory floating into the abyss. The blackened and angry sky struck down several buildings with its flashing whip which tore across the land mercilessly in attempt to punish those who had harmed nature. However, the overpass which the two children stood on was unharmed by man and unmarred by nature, but which one was worse?

Hiroshi still looking at the scene said, “You can leave. I will be fine.”

Trying to hide her ailment she asked, “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind helping you.”

Hiroshi hearing the cough and seeing that she was shivering walked over to her and placed his palm on her shoulder. He gave her a little heat before walking back to this original viewpoint saying, “That should last you until you get home. It’s okay, I will be fine.” The girl nodded and began walking way taking one last worried glance at Hiroshi.

After she left Hiroshi sighed knowing everything was not ok. He still felt miserable, but being around her made him feel a little better. His only regret was that he always pushed her away. He always neglected her love, and he knew soon she would find someone else. The irony of the conflict was that it was he who liked and disliked the girl.

Hiroshi sighed before saying exasperated, “Damn.”

Iko - This post was very short. There was hardly any depth, and it says in the Opening Post not to godmod. We wanted to see what you could do when there were around, and you godmodded. DENIED

Hiroshi - This post was better, but it left me confused. I didn't who you were RPing as - the girl or Hiroshi. The Opening Post said not to godmod, and you did. The post is not bad at all, but without the godmodding, it wouldn't make any sense. DENIED

Both of you - Go through the Romance or Battle Training, please. Thank you.

Display Name: Gino
Age: 18
Gender: Male

Gino jolted up from his sleep, his face enveloped in sweat.His breathes were short as though he had been suffocating and finally given the privilege to breath once again. His eyes looked out his window, only the lone moon stood there. It seemed to be his only company on nights like this, where his nightmares seemed to have almost consumed him.

"It was only a dream." Gino spoke softly to himself. These words however seemed lifeless compared to what had face. His hand rested against his face, the cold sweat biting at his finger tips. His mind jumped back over his dream, the dream which replayed like a film in his mind. Yet every time he seemed to expect a different ending, However just like a film, it was always the same.

He saw himself as if he was another being watching the acting before him. He was young, the same age he was when he arrived at the academy. He stood alone in the white scenery of winter. He seemed to be crying, crying out loud for someone, anyone to come and be with him. The depression of loneliness was overpowering the child who was powerless to stop it.

The pain of being along hurting his throat with cries and stinging his eyes with tears. The cold icy snow beneath him making it seem as though the gods themselves had overlooked him. His eyes narrowed on and object in front of him, one that resembled a woman. His grief dispersed itself as he rushed forward. The chance of someone else being in this world gave him the hope to move forward.

As he grew closer his steps grew shorter. There was merely a dieing tree that had deceived him. His joy had collapsed around him. The feeling of loneliness setting in once again. The earth beneath him grew colder as it bacme wet and marshy. He could not move as the ground seemed to pull him in. His mouth soon being pulled under causing him to feel the loss of breath. It pulled him beneath the snow down to the darkness below. His arms and legs seemed lifeless and only his mind was active. "Someone,please...help."