Assaiki - Well written; however, I think you need to try to come up with better ways of describing your character - instead of 'he', 'him', 'his', or their name, try to come up with more imaginative descriptions. Like:

Instead of: "He tried to regain his footing but his feet slipped across the soaking wet branches."
Try: "Desperation gripped him as regaining solid footing seemed impossible; the branches, soaked through and through, provided poor traction for sneakered feet."

Instead of: "His numb hands couldn’t quite sense when he had a grip despite the roughness of the bark. He began to tumble and fall."
Try: "The slick branch slipped through his numb fingers, unable to feel anything despite the roughness of the bark; his heart skipped a beat as the branch became farther and father away — his body tipping back, falling... falling..."

Notice how my usage of 'he' and 'his', etc is very limited. Try to come up with descriptions other than the standard ones. Start with an action, a feeling, an appearance, to keep it from sounding redundant.

Other than that, well done. ACCEPTED. Sorry for the delay.

Exemption Form -
Name: YingAnming
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Is English your language: Yes
Your Prompt: Straight Forward

Location: Jade Dragon Tea Shop

Ying smiled lightly towards the filling up of his tea shop, shaking his head. Music night here was always the greatest inspiration towards everyone. Those that were going through tough times with the war taking loved ones, to the children who wished to learn about something. Of course there were several people with instruments on top of a make shift created stage, that took all of four tables rim to rim and the far wall to create. The musicians were members of his staff who he had found when they were playing music in the back room several months ago. And since then they had gotten together every week and practiced a new song.

His long black hair was pulled into it’s regular pony tail, and his blue eyes held a sort of gentleness that not many saw in him when he first arrived there. Dressed in a pair of black pants, and a blue shirt, with his regular worn travelers boots, and his regular silk jacket with the different colors of Blue, red and green all mixing in between each other, creating new colors before moving on to the next. Standing at the counter where tea was served and light foods were now being prepared for everyone’s delight, by the cooks that he knew could not do anything for music night, but had felt that they needed to make themselves useful. Slowly he came forwards before smiling towards everyone and then nodding to the people around him.

“My friends, Let is give thanks for this bountiful food, these great musicians that have gathered again tonight to bless us with their music, as well as the parents of so many young and new faces in the audience tonight. I do feel enriched by their faces.” He told them and smiled before gesturing for the children to come forwards a little more. “Come closer, come on. That’s it.” He stated before the musicians began to bang on some drums and as some pipes.

“A single thread in a tapestry, though it color brightly shines. Can never see it’s purpose in the pattern of the grand design.” He sang out, before waving his hand in a wave like motion gesturing to the tapestry that hung of a dragon guarding a mountain top. “And the stone that sits at the very top of the mountains mighty face. Does it think it’s more important, than the stones that form the base?” He continued on before the children began to get a grasp of what he was telling them.

“So how can you all see what your life is worth or where your value lies. You can never see through the eyes of man.” He sang out, pointing to everyone in the crowd who just wondered what he was getting at, though knew him to always have a point. “You must look at your life, look at your life through heavens eyes.” And with that he began to dance around with several of the young daughters and sons that wished to join him in his fancy dancing.


“A lake of gold in the dessert sand is less than a cool fresh spring.” He stated as the waiters and waitresses began to walk around to the various tables careful not to get in the way and hand out drinks and bowls of snacks for the people who came. “To one lost sheep, a shepherd boy is greater than the richest earth kings. If a man looses everything he owns, has he truly lost his worth.” He stated staring straight at a man who thought of himself in pretty high regards, and everyone in the room knew it. He just gave Ying a questioning look, before he continued on with his singing. “Or is it the beginning of a new and brighter birth. So how do you measure the worth of a man in wealth or strength or size? In how much he gained, or how much he gave?” He asked them all as the beats continued on, himself smiling and chuckling. “The answer will come, the answer will come to him who tries to look at his life through heavens eyes.

“And that’s why we share all we have with you. Though there’s little to be found. When all you have is nothing, there’s a lot to go around. Though life can be blown about, by the winds of change and chance, and though you may never know all the steps, you must learn to join the dance. You must learn to join the Dance! So how do you judge what a man is worth, by what he builds or buys? You can never see with your eyes on earth! You must look at your life through heavens eyes!” He finished smiling, getting a round of applause from those that enjoyed the song, but those that were put on the spot seemed to be questioning themselves on whether or not what Ying had sang made any sense. Looking around he smiled as a couple began to get up and began to sing one of their songs. Himself bowing to the applause as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a clothe getting rid of the beads of sweat that often came from having so many people in one room. Turning to look towards the children, he noticed that they were looking at him expectantly before he smiled and shook his head before he walked towards a cupboard and pulled out some stuffed animals that he always handed out at the end of each night, knowing that the parents would soon be leaving with their children to put them to bed. One got a dragon, another a saber wolf. Some got Tortoise Tigers or Pig cats to take home, but he left one alone. One that had remained with him since he himself was a boy and wasn’t normally found around there. A water Tribe toy. One of a blue dragon that was a gift to him from his mother at a age since before he could walk. Closing the cupboard he noticed that the children were all happy and content with what they had gotten and began to sit around in groups as they listened to people sing.

‘Strange. We continue on here like there is no war going on between these people and the other nations, but there is. I suppose it’s one way for everyone here to get away from the bad news that so often follows the night.’ He thought to himself as he turned to look towards the Kings Palace in the centre of everything. ‘Fire Lord Ozai. Have you condemned your people to a miserable fate, or will this dream of your great grandfathers, actually come to pass… hmmm… Time will only tell I suppose.’ He finished before he joined around and smiled towards everyone while he helped prepare the tea that was to be served.


Credit goes to Dream Works, Creator of the Prince of Egypt.
Song sung: Through Heaven’s Eyes.

Ying - well written, but a good 99% of your post was dialog. There was no character insight, no description of your surroundings. The speech was interesting, but that's all it was — speech. There's no meat to your post, so I'm afraid it doesn't show your role playing capabilities to it's fullest, as RPs require more than just talking. DENIED. Please go through battle training (all three rounds) or romance training (one round). Thank you.

Display Name: Jen-jiao
Age: 19
Gender: Female

Jen shivers as she looks over the cliff side. The dark cold air of the arctic night cut through her blue wool coat with little effort. The once so calm ocean now bellows with roaring cries of a vengeful lioness of pounding stormy waters. The gentle soul of the girl aches as she remember many happy nights she spent, in this very spot, looking into sky with her older brother, now it is but a bitter reminder how the hollow emptiness she now feels with his absents. Beads of snow falls off the pony tail girl as she tilts her head upward to meet eye to eye the dark storm clouds. The dark blue eyes scans the horizon as if to look for any sliver of hope that her brother changed his mind and decide to return home, but to her disappointment, no sign of Tao-Lei. The innocent eyes now swarm with tears that she been trying to hold back with shear will alone, but now losing the battle. "I must be strong". , she mutters beneath her frozen chapped lips. Despite her efforts, the tears flow freely, finally escaping the cage of the eyes. The watery droplet of tears stinging the face of the lightly framed child as it mingles with the icy frozen snow against her delicate face.

The youthful brunette legs starts to weaken as she falls to her knees with a dull thud to the cold ground. Fatigued and cold, the fury of anger she feels inside explodes. "You took my mom and my dad!" , she screams, repeatedly pounding her wet gloved hands to the ground below her as if the world was the source of all her pain. "And now you take my brother too! What more do you want from me?" . Bellowing cries falls short of near silence as she tries to compete with the deafening sounds of the thunder and howling winds.

As if drained of all strength, light body of the young girl falls prostrate onto her face, now exhausted and every breath, a struggle, as she takes in the chilled air into her lungs. Sweat and tears mixed together as it drips down the center of her chin. A moment of peaceful time passes as child's heart and breath slows to match each other. She notices that her right wrist feels lighter then usual. With a quick jerking motion, she arches her left hand toward her right wrist only to realize that her mother’s bracelet is missing. With sharp horrifying realization, she whips her head in a frantic motion, desperately searching for her lost precious family jewelry. The snow cover silhouette of a body stiffens, frozen in its place, afraid to move fearing that she might knock the bracelet off the cliff side edge. The heart in little girl's small chest skips a beat as her eyes catch a small circular metallic band sparkling on the edge of the snow cover cliff, teetering and taunting her as if to dare her to come get it. Summoning the last ounce of will, the snow whiten haired girl legs begins to move pushing off ever so carefully, hoping not to give the bracelet any reason to fall of the edge. "Slowly, Jen slowly." , she postulates in her mind as she reached for the seesawing ornate object. The small childlike fingers are playing a balancing game with the golden circular object as her right arm moves closer to the bracelet. "Careful Jen, Careful" , she whispers, as the cold breath form within frozen air.

"Please, moon spirit, help me." , She says a prayer in her mind. To her horror, the bracelet falls over the edge of the cliff. She gasps as the fear rips into the center of her spine. Without thinking she leaps for the piece of her life that she is not willing to lose, but missing short of the prize within inches. Instinctively she removes the right glove and moves her arms in quick circular motion around her body, as cold water droplets form into a streaming tentacle in response to child's movements. The desperate girl lashes out her right hand with a single whip like gesture to the falling bracelet. The blue water jet line, follows the will of its master, engulfs the shimmering object and with one upward arching motion of her wrist, the bracelet is called to her right hand.

With great relief, she sighs. Rolling over to back, she lays there on the freezing snow cover ground, her strength all but gone. With the weight of the new body of the weaken edge ground, the earth shakes as awaken from a long deep sleep. Unable to move, Jen lays helpless as the ground she was laying on gives out. Her motionless slim body drops freely into the violent waves as she is tossed around like a rag doll of a tantrum throwing ocean child.

The tattered pummeled body now paralyzed as the numbing affects of the freezing water takes hold of the soaked skinned girl. The morbid reality slaps her in the face as she realizes that she will never see the Aunt Mai-Li and brother again. "Sorry Tao-Lei... Please forgive me Auntie Mai-Li…" , she thinks to herself as tears form in her eyes. She can feel the stinging sharp pain in her right hand as she grips the bracelet, held secure by her finger nails digging into her bloody palm. A blanket of exhaustion covers her, biding her in sleep like a cold motherly hand rocking her child to sleep. "So tired…" , she thought to herself as the eternal slumber fills her mind and darkness covers the last bit of light.

The heavy lid of her eyes open slowly as she sees the blurry figure stands to her right side. The image of an elderly woman begins to come to focus as the deep ocean blue eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun beaming through the window. Confused as to how she ended back in her room, she moves her right hand to rub her sleepy eyes; she notices that her mother’s bracelet is back on her wrist. Unable to form any words, she grows mute; dumbfounded. The bed ridden girl eyes focused on the item on her wrist. She is afraid if she took her attention from it, that it would disappear. Everything that the Northern Water Tribe girl went through felt like a dream. The only reminder of all that she had experienced was real was the sharp, nagging pain she felt throughout her body.

The bandaged child head rises slightly and out of the corner of her eye notices that the kind face of the old woman contains specs of scabbing and bruises. Ashamed, a few stutter of words escape her lips, "I’m so sorry Auntie Mai-Li. I didn't want you to get hurt." She can see the light of the sun outlining slender healer, as she wonders why her Aunt says nothing. The silence of her Aunt seems too much for her to bare. Uncontrollable tears flows from the tired dark hair girl. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry”, mutter of emotions mixed with sounds of a beaten soul. Turning her head away for the sight of her Aunt, she is disappointed in herself. Of all the year she tired to be strong, she is ashamed that she could not bottle her true feelings any more. The tired little girl, have not the strength to fight any longer.

The badly injured girl can feel the warming flow of life, as she is being healed. The sharp needle prickling pain that she felt through out her aching bones numb as it fades way. Nesting in a warm safe bed, the puffy swollen eyes feel like lead. She can barely keep them open. It feels like she has been awake for a hundreds years. The tear filled eyes closes, as the restful arm of slumber cradles her to sleep.

Jen-jiao Very well done. You are a talented writer. I like the emotions and feelings expressed within the post. Very deep and troubled. Good job. ACCEPTED

Display Name: Suijin
Age: 19
Gender: Female



Leaning on the railing of the Hellena, elbows bent for support and hands holding her head, Illyria surveyed their current port of interest. Rolling her eyes for no one's benefit but her own, Illyria grimaced in disgust at the town splayed before her. Port Royale. There was nothing Illyria would have liked better than to never set eyes on this town again. Full of bad memories and her one worst enemy, Port Royale was a veritable tome of anger for the dark haired beauty. Sighing in a obvious display of defeat, she disembarked from the Hellena though hesitating on the end of the gangplank, as though terrified to set foot on Port Royale soil. Illyria tossed her head, sending her long earrings on a spirited jig. What a stupid notion, that she was actually scared of something.

Weaving her way through the various seamen unloading on the docks, she enjoyed the view of some while others were more of a passing thought; perhaps a nice fling but nothing to want to go back to. Though, if one really knew Illyria, she certainly wasn't the relationship type. Sighing boredly, Illyria continued through the docks towards town, the stench of the outskirts became nearly unbearable. Everywhere she looked she saw the poorer citizens of Port Royale wallowing in the filth left behind by the rich 'nobles'. Such a play on words. There was nothing noble about those people only concerned with their next shopping trip for an overpriced gown. She had been a part of that life once but she preferred her new life over the old; there were things she missed though...only two, her brothers. Snorting derisively, Illyria bent down to give a woman and her children some coins. They had greater need of them than she did, at the very least it would get them a nice hot meal.

As Illyria continued through the streets, the tangy scent of the ocean disappeared along with the deeper scent of squaller, now replaced with the scent of those who wafted the need of a simple bath. The buildings, so closely built together and intimidating, hid within it's alley ways the drunks, the whores, homeless and any number of people who were starved for attention and other such simple accomodations. Some even, she would have thought, would try to cling to the hem of her skirt in hopes that she might help them. She had already taken the liberty of helping a starving mother and her children, if she gave away any more of her money she wouldn't have the required amount to spend on personal supplies. Shaking her head in utter disgrace at the fact that the Governer of Port Royale would let his citizens come to such shambles for a silky pillow to lay his head on was an outrage to the dark teen.

Before she knew what had happened, the imposing buildings suddenly lifted and revealed the bustling town square that was market. Grabbing an apple off of a merchant's stall, the woman behind it shouted at her as she bit into the succulent red skin, though the merchnat's wife was soon quelled with a look that could probably have set the woman on fire. Her clothes spoke of comfort and well being, there was nothing that should prompt the woman to chase her down for a few measley coins when she could see the pain that people down the alley were in.

Striding off, Illyria glanced around for a place to sit and watch. Spotting such a place, a small center with a patch of grass and a thin tree, Illyria walked towards and upon reaching it slid down against the tree trunk until her bottom touched ground. Leaning her head back she closed her eyes and let the sun beat down, the apple near forgotten in her hand. It would have been rather relaxing if she hadn't heard a voice, forgotten from years ago. Swiveling her head around Illyria felt her eyes widen in shock when she noticed one of her fathers bankers; a corpulent fat old man who lived off of her father and never did more than tell Illyria that she should have been killed along with her mother. Hearing his voice sent her on a wave of emotions from which she couldn't escape, and though he wasn't linked to many of them, a series of memories flashed before her minds eye.

It was stupid really, hating somebody who had never even so much as glanced at her for most of her life. But then, he was her father. A glance or two, maybe even so much as a kind word, wouldn't have killed him. Standing up with ease and gripping the pommel of her dagger with force enough to nearly crush it, Illyria felt the heat rising to her cheeks, felt her stomach knotting as she struggled to avoid walking towards where her father presumably still lived. The anger her father could create within the teen was always a force to be reckoned with and she could feel the terrified stares of the shopping citizens; the place where she stood devoid of any other person but her own, the citizens obvious in their avoidance of her as though avoiding the plague.

"Father dearest, how I do long to see thee. What a long time it has been," the teen whispered, rubbing the jeweled pommel of her dagger; blood thirsty for the one person she wouldn't even be able to get near.

Suijin - looks good! Only one thing, we don't post titles like that in RP (you know, the "__c r u e l t y ' s || c o r r o s i o n"). It was well written, and indepth. ACCEPTED.

Toramaru
18
male



Taken from the personal journal of Alexander D’mar, son of Count Valenus D’mar.


‘Long days and pleasant nights’ is a phrase of greeting enduring long before the cornerstone of Dante was wrested from the secretive earth. One would not be hard pressed to encounter such words within a banquet hall adorned with frivolous finery and the wastrel opulence of kings.

These words may mean well enough when viewed in definition, but in the twisted and oft times perilous social circles of the so-called ‘nobility’ of any realm, these words are but a way of decorating ones language with as much unimpressive wealth as their own lavish fortunes. Perhaps this may be why I am whispered to be ‘impolite’ when I return their glittering hailing with a simple “Well met”.

Oh but do those pompous asses ever do love the dance of regal intrigue. Swaying like the greatest of orators through their words and gestures they weave intricate plots of treachery and corruption. A Masquerade of Malevolence, the venom of vipers hidden beneath the smiles of saints. Such is a testament of our times; the poor suffer to live while the nobility live to bring suffering. It is an ironic twist of fate.

Only he who owns nothing can grasp happiness while the rich and decadent fail to fathom the meaning of the word. Drowning in their own existence of excess indulgence, the men meant to lead the diligent masses form a rotting figurehead for a hardworking crew. Such is the nature of the privileged.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely…such is said but I believe differently. Absolute power corrupts only if allowed to absolutely control. There are men born to lead and those who waste their time focused on the next grand attraction. It sickens me such men are accepted together in the same system of ranks. Kings are chosen out of bloodline and fortunes are passed along just as inefficiently.

A king should gain the throne through iron will and power, nothing less. The sins of the father can likely become the sins of the son if nothing is done to change the status quo.


I research and I study to no avail. What was it the wizards had that I do not? Surely there was a more judicial system of power then simple inheritance. I refuse to believe the great mages of the past were no more deserving of their power then the idiot son of a baron.

Surely the answer lies somewhere within the dusty tomes keeping my company these long nights. Most are written in tongues I cannot decipher, and perhaps there is no translation. The mages were of a different caliber then we who measure strength in currency.

Theirs was the strength to command the very elements and inspire unfaltering loyalty. With but a few words and gestures, titanic effects bowed nations. Such is the nature of magic, the greatest of the arts.

A painter gains his skill through years of work, so thus a mason, a carpenter, a blacksmith, a sculptor, and a weaver. How should this be any different? If the ignorant cows lathered in gold shall not change the course of history then it falls to me. I simply cannot stand idly by and watch the slow rot of empires.

I cannot change the stars with riches alone, but by the mystical hand of magic I might but change what fate would have me become…and reach a level unseen and unheard for centuries before. These books WILL grant me the knowledge I seek for the dying earth calls for magic…


Surely the forces of mystery shall heed its call. And I shall be there to receive it.

Morning kissed the earth and gave life back to the city of Dante. Men and women awoke to the gradual ascent of the sun and set out to earn their keep. The day seemed built of bricks wrought from murmuring conversation and the fresh smell of food rising toward the sky. In acceptance of the offering, the blaze of sunlight filled the grimy alleys and crowded marketplace with a gentle warm glow.

Alexander D’Mar watched the milling masses from his balcony in house D’Mar and gave a thin smile. Most of these people would never reflect on the human condition or the slow poisoning of humanity’s standards. They were content to meander their way a day at a time, thanking the gods for their little rewards along the way. In essence, they were followers, no more ambitious then a worm or swallow.

Still, Alexander would place their ignorant earnestness on a level far higher then that of those standing above them. The dukes and duchesses, counts and countesses who bathed themselves in blinding brilliance were blind to what a good day of work really meant. But then, could the same not be said of himself?

An agonized sigh escaped the young mans lips as he turned from the bustling city and back to his own chambers. In a few moments, he would be summoned to a morning meal with his parents…a truly deplorable occasion of empty words and phrases built of tradition and habit, nothing more.

Alexander crossed the cold marble floor of his room and stood before the full-length mirror opposite his bed. A haggard face stared at him from the reflective depths with tired cynicism. Blonde hair tumbled from his forehead like a cascade of gold to hang limply over one emerald green eye in a face of bronzed skin. ‘A face of treasure’ his mother had called it…Alexander truly wondered which she would prize more, her son’s face or the precious metals and gems it represented.

A wry smile played about his thin lips but rapidly dissipated at a timid knock upon the hard oak double door which led out to the rest of the estate.

“M-Master Alexander sir? The Lord and lady r-request your p-p-p-presence in the d-dining hall at-t once.”

The speaker was a young boy Alexander had taken from the streets three years ago as an experiment disguised as generosity. To observe what a commoner would do when surrounded with endless comforts was something Alexander had pondered over for many a month before the idea occurred to him. Was the corruption reserved only to the men born with luxury? Or did it grow as a result of wealth?

Thus far, the boy remained shy and demure…his stutter intensifying to a comical, and at the same time pathetic level. The experiment had been a woeful failure, but Alexander was not such a man as to cast aside another human being…especially one who exhibited no symptoms of the decay he lived among every day.

“Tell my ‘esteemed’ parents I shall join them in but a moment Jack, and be quick with you, I would like to be done with their presence and take a stroll in the streets as soon as the opportunity is afforded to me.”

The sound of quick feet scurrying away was the only answer Alexander was given…and needed.

Turning to his chestnut brown wardrobe, the young son of the Count D’Mar perused the selection of pricey outfits, choosing the most modest of the collection. The selection consisted of a simple brown shirt with a faded green pair of leggings and scuffed shoes. His parents would remark upon it, but he had determined their advice useless at the tender age of 8…he was his own council.

Display Name: Kaitou
Age: 20
Gender: Female

Never. That one single word echoed through her mind. It radiated from the heated core of her soul much like the warmth of a blistering forge radiated outwards. She would never submit to weakness or despair it wasn’t in her nature. Kaitou rose from the ground, her arms quivering under the weight of her own tired body as she forced herself to sit up.

Rain and sleet pelted down upon her. Her clothes clung to her deeply tanned flesh. Wet and frigid droplets drizzled over the flat of her exposed stomach. Wet rivers flowed over her face dripping from her chin and leaving queer paths in the filth upon her face. Her hair was a tangled mass of earthen brown locks and clumps of reddish orange soil common to the area where she now sat.

She would never give in. Kaitou was stubborn and her strength was her pride. A weapon smith’s daughter, a girl raised in the forge. She was as strong as any steel or iron! She would not fall from this.

She grunted the sound coming out deep and raw sounding. It passed through clenched teeth. Sharp jade eyes hardened in resolve. Battered and bruised she bit down the cry of pain that wanted to escape her as she maneuvered her legs and crawled towards the nearest tree. One worn callused and muddy hand held her side where a dark bruise was forming over her ribs. Using the tree for leverage she forced her tall form onto its feet. Her boots made a squelching sound as she stepped into a muddy puddle.

As she made her way grudgingly up the road her mind seethed over the events that had befallen her. The lands in the Earth kingdom were no longer entirely safe especially for earth benders. The fire nation was making its presence known and with her luck Kaitou had traveled right into a town occupied by the flaming scumbags! Her free hand stroked the hilt of her sword before closing around it in a firm handed grip. They had tried to take her sword! They had even gone so far as to insinuate she was a frail little girl with no use for such weapons. Kaitou growled through clenched teeth. Her pride would not allow for some despicable sleaze bucket to call her weak! She had refused to hand over her weapon and had had the so called honor of trying to match blows on uneven terms. She had been pulled down by the hair and kicked harshly in the ribs, while being blinded by some sort of itchy stinging dust bomb. Somewhere in the scrap she vaguely remembered slamming her elbow into one mans skull and hearing what she giddily hoped was the sound of his teeth breaking. Chased and pursued she had slipped down a mountain side that her stinging eyes hadn’t seen and though she could earth bend she had chosen to ride the muddy earth all the way down. Then she had made her way into the forest to hide and find a river where she could rinse her eyes out. She hated hiding but she wasn’t an idiot. She’d get the fire-scum soldiers someday but today she wasn’t prepared to take on a squad of them and their fire bending. So she had ended up finally walking the thin paths of the forest when the sky had decided she needed a shower and had oh so kindly decided to spit cold fat droplets down at her.

Kaitou’s hair clung to her face, shadowing her angry and intense jade eyes. Her mouth was a solid straight line and her eye brows were knitted together in intense displeasure. She looked eerily feral as the creeping shadows of the forest cosseted her form in dark shapes. Her boot dug into the wet earth with a heavy stomp. The ground trembled and she cocked a dark grin. Never. She would never allow herself to be weak!

Display Name: Devak
Age: 19
Gender: Male

A slight whistle cut through the crisp night air as Devak’s scimitars moved rhythmically before him. Thinking of nothing but perfecting his movements, Devak’s focus lay entirely upon his nightly training sessions. Standing ankle deep in the waters on the shore of the beach, Devak winced slightly as he glanced down to see that a crafty crab had managed to catch his toe within its vice-like grip. Spinning the scimitar in his hand so that the blade pointed toward the unfortunate creature, Devak chuckled to himself as he skewered his meal for the night. “Perhaps that’s enough for now.” He thought to himself. Walking toward the small fire he had managed to create through the use of stone and flint, Devak positioned the crab over the flames with the help of a stray stick. Staring into the dancing embers, Devak once again thought over his past in the deafening silence that surrounded him day and night. He turned toward the lone tree the grew closest to the water and counted the tally marks etched in its bark. It had been nearly six months since he found this island. Six months since he’d last had human contact. Six months since he’d seen her face…

“No.” He said aloud, startled at the sound of his own voice. He would not go down that path. Thinking of her only increased his depression, and if he were going to survive then he would need every it of mental strength he could. Rising from his seat, Devak once again approached the water, placing his scimitars before him in an offensive stance. Once again the high-pitched sound of the fast moving weapons danced through the night air, however this time they were accompanied by the sound of the crashing waves that followed Devak’s movements. A slender tentacle of water grew before Devak as more water seemed to be drawn into it, forming two appendages from either side of it that shifted into ice. The makeshift dummy moved toward Devak, slashing at him with its iced over appendages as he mimicked its movements in order to block it with his own scimitars. The pair danced up and down the shore, moving with the waves as Devak continued to build his skill in both bending and swordsmanship.

At that moment a light blinded Devak, causing him to lose focus as the dummy fell forward, its ice melting away and reuniting once more with the ocean. Looking further out to see what had blinded him, Devak realized that the pale light shining from the moon had refracted off a broken mirror that found its way to his shore. Moving toward it as he picked it up Devak stared at himself in the dim illumination from the moon, wondering who the person with long tattered gray hair was. In that moment of soul-searching however, Devak found an idea. Quickly moving back to his fire he ripped a few strands of leather from his shirt and tied half the mirror to the handle of one scimitar, and the other half to the other handle. Moving his newly designed weapon in the light, Devak was elated to see the light being reflected onto a tree. He smiled at his newly crafted weapon before taking a deep breath and realizing that his crab was fully cooked. Sitting down, he eagerly and painfully ripped open the hot shell as he took a bite of the tender crab meat. Tonight had turned out to be one of the better ones.

Jack Shade (you know who you are), Kaitou, and Devak — all ACCEPTED. ^_^ Just a few notes — Jack, Love the writing, glad it still makes sense without the little blurb from the NPC; Kaitou, I'm seeing a lot of 'she' 'her' in your post. Try to come up with a more creative way of speaking of your character, like "The blonde-haired teenager" or "The portly man", or even begin with an action, "Amber eyes glistened with the sheen of unshed tears".; Devak, saw a lot of referencing your character by name. The advice I gave to Kaitou goes for you too.

Display Name: Irai
Age: 13
Gender: Male

It could be worse.

Irai groaned and rolled over, rubbing his aching head. At first he thought his eyes weren’t open. The blackness that took over his vision was absolute. It could be worse. No, it really couldn’t. Irai was starting to realize where he was, what had happened. Why had he slept in a cave? It wasn’t like he hadn’t slept in the rain before. Cloth touched his hand, rubbing its rough strap into his palm. Groping blindly, Irai opened the rawhide strip that found the flap to the pack.

A sharp clack. Stones clicking together and a bloom of light threw rocks into sharp relief. It could be worse.

Nothing but stone met the waterbender’s gaze. How could it possibly get worse? Irai beseeched the damned expression of the optimist. Earth groaned and a shower of pebbles beat down on the prisoner’s shoulders. The stones above were shifted. Sorry. Sorry. Things could be worse. Irai silently apologized, shielding his lamped hurriedly from the downpour of debris. Satisfied with its victory, the pebble’s storm stilled. But it’s still bad enough. Irai added grudgingly as he set down the precious light.

It was useless to complain aloud, but what else was there to do than debate with the imaginary jailer who held him here? Hours seemed to pass. Or maybe they were only minutes. It was impossible to tell. Was the air clawing its way out of his lungs? Or did it still calmly purr in his chest, a content cat just sleeping, unaware how important it is. At last, Irai stood up, staggering almost drunkenly, though if there had been anything to drink he would have long ago tried to bend it, to the rock blocked entrance.

Fingers claws at unyielding stone, tainting brown soil red.

Panic.

Fear.

It couldn’t get worse. It couldn’t. It couldn’t. It couldn’t! Rasping gasps of despair began to echo through the lonely cavern. The light flickered, ready to give up on its survivor. Stop, Irai’s silent command did little good; the lamp’s oil was done.

The light, the sun of hope, was gone. Irai’s terror increased. He didn’t want to die. Would his life flash before his eyes? A silent montage of his family? But all that occupied his mind was the one thought of survival. I don’t want to die. I want to live.

It could be worse.

No, it couldn’t.

Irai - very good. I like the word flow, and the description in your post. However, it's a little on the bland side pertaining the person whose point of view the story is taking place. What do they look like? How does the environment feel physically? You've got the what are they thinking, and how the environment feels like mentally parts down, but keep in mind the other two as well. ACCEPTED.

Display Name: Xinran
Age: 15
Gender: Female

"Xiiiinraaaaan...." Hongxue taunted her younger sister for attention as she opened the door and bounded into her younger sister's room. It was nearing midday so Hongxue had no fear that she'd disturb Xinran.
"Do you need me?" Xinran asked with an uninterested voice. Her head didn't even look up from the paper she was practicing her calligraphy from. Hongxue frowned. She didn't like Xinran, or anyone, being so studious. Her personality and preferences leaned more towards fun, playfulness and spontaneity; nowhere near something such as studious.
"But we both have a day off tutoring and studying," Hongxue complained in her childishly toned voice that she always used on her younger sister. "Come with me and Taohong. We're going to walk around and maybe play a joke or two on Gu Da."
"I'm fine," Xinran simply answered. "You and Taohong don't need me to have fun."

Hongxue made a "Hmm" sound that was accompanied by an annoyed pout. She liked Xinran more than her other siblings (especially Gu Da) and wanted to spend time with her. The two were usually too busy being tutored or studying to have time for each other or their other siblings so Hongxue couldn't understand what was making Xinran hold back.
Hongxue was fifteen years old and didn't feel as if she had properly bonded with any of her siblings due to the fact that they were all busy with either private tutoring, schooling or studying. Even though Gu Da had the same tutoring, okus some more, as Hongxue, Hongxue felt a small, bitter resentment towards him since he was favourited by her parents as being the eldest son.

She can pay for not wanting to spend time with me, Hongxue thought with a sly grin, having concoted up one of her infamous little plans. Xinran didn't notice at all that her eldest sibling was sneaking up behind her; she was concentrating on her brush and paper too much to notice much around her anyway. Surprise was the key element that made Xinran scream and drop her brush when Hongxue shook her chair while shouting, "Gaarrgh!!!"
It lasted only a few seconds, but Xinran was very still for a minute after wards. Hongxue barely noticed her little sister's ice-frozen stiffness as she was laughing at the priceless scream that had been let loose. After all, what was the point of younger siblings if you couldn't torment them?

"Poor Xinran," Hongxue taunted. "I must have scared you too much."
Hongxue didn't give Xinran much time to respond, since she didn't have much patience, before she started to shake Xinran's chair again while trying to hold in a fit of giggles. Xinran was no longer frozen from her fright, but was holding on tightly to the chair instead, fearing that she might fall off.
"Stop!" Xinran pleaded, but Hongxue only continued more roughly. "Stop it Hongxue!"
"What's wrong, little sister?" Hongxue teased, poking out her tongue cheekily.
"You wrecked my calligraphy! Look!" Xinrantried to point at where she had dropped her brush on her paper. Hongxue managed to follow where her little sister was indicating and let go of the chair immediately. The ink had splattered over a wide range on the paper; there were even a few smudges on the table.

"I have to start again," Xinran whimpered. Hongxue, although she felt guilty, wasn't going to comfort her sister in any form. She was stubborn in this way, never admitting when she was in the wrong.
"Don't worry about it," she tried to assure her younger sister, believing that if she cheered Xinran up, the guilt would immediately disappear. "It's just stupid calligraphy anyway."
"But Yulong said she'd beat me if I didn't practice!"
"Eh? Yulong is an old lady," Hongxue snorted with an odd sounding laugh. "She can't beat anyone."
"Yes she can, she's a scary old lady," Xinran argued, her eyes filling up. "Go away Hongxue, leave me alone!"

"Hmph!" Hongxue snobbed Xinran and turned her back from her. As she stalked out the door, her thoughts raced with annoyed thoughts directed at her little sister, such as: Why does she have to be so serious? It was only a joke. and Xinran is so annoying. When was the last time she spent time with me or the rest of our siblings? She's too selfish!
Strangely enough, that's how Xinran felt to wards Hongxue. Both sisters thought that eachother was selfish, which was actually true to an extent. It wasn't until the late afternoon, Taohong suggested to Hongxue that there may be a personality clash between her and Xinran.

"I've never met Xinran, but from the way you describe her she sounds more than studious," Taohong observed. "But on the other side of the hill, you're pretty carefree. Gu Da is your father's favourite child and you throw rotten fruit at him and push him over without a second thought. And that was only what you done today."
"He had it coming," Hongxue smirked cheerfully at the memory of what had happened nearly half an hour ago. She and Taohong had hidden behind some people in the street and thrown rotten fruit at her younger brother. Since neither girls were entirely discreet, Gu Da was quick to spot them and shout at them. Instead of running away, Hongxue ran past Gu Da, giving him a hard push on the way.

Younger siblings are fun to torment, Hongxue thought warmly. But I don't understand why they don't ever see the joke in it.

Name: Xing Fei
Age: 19
Gender: N/A

The lye stung her hands as she dipped the rag back into the rough wooden bucket. The cobble-stone floor was covered in chicken-blood from last night’s dinner. In her ragged apron and smock, the young woman pulled the cloth across the cool floor, grumbling to herself about her condition. Working all day, sleeping by the kitchen fire at night with only the mice to keep her company—it was a pitiful existence. The kitchen and yard was her only world now. Four walls covered in white-wash, a open fireplace and a beech work-table was all she was given. No chair, or rugs or even a blanket was to be seen. Cooking equipment and cleaning supplies would not keep one warm during winter's vicious chill--and those the young brunette couldn't even claim as hers. The outside was hardly better—a sickly garden of weeds and wild creatures picking off the ducks and chickens one by one. Ella still remembered when she slept in a bed and drank sweet wine in her lace and silk dresses.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” She directed towards the picture of her late father, tucked up against the fireplace mantle, “You had to go and marry another woman. It’s like practically asking yourself to get killed.”

No, Ella had never been fond of that woman and her daughters—who could be? They, in jealousy of her sweetness and beauty, had shut her up here. For five years, she had been stuck down here, hoping that something would save her. At seventeen, that thought died. No prince would even deign to come down into a filthy kitchen, much less gallop away with the ash covered child he found there. Ella could not muster any more sweetness. Ella was going to get revenge. These pale white hands that once shook at her step-mother’s voice would snuff that voice out. These red lips would smile with faint amusement as her step-sisters endured the pain she had. Her dark chestnut hair would be stroked by a loving hand and she would be happy—no matter how it happened.

Cautiously keeping tabs on the doorway, the young woman peeled back a loose floorboard, shooing away the potato bugs that decided to take residence there. She dug through the hay and plucked out a small black tome—one she had sold her soul to get. Ella never thought she would ever dabble in dark magic, but the simple black book called to her—mewling to be touched and whisper its sinister thoughts into her ear. The book’s power was a far cry from its master—that shadowy, cloaked man with a chilling smile who had left it at the kitchen door. Ella had never believed in the ever-lasting soul, so selling it came rather easy to her. However, seeing that man walk away into the night as if he had no fear of the mortal world brought thoughts of fiery pits and pitchforks waiting for her when she died.

Ella shut those thoughts away. He was gone and the book and her spite were left. She could have anything she wanted, even the kingdom, in the palm of her hand. The prince was young and unmarried, after all, and with her beauty (underneath all the soot), no one would think twice of their union. After the marriage, Ella would expose her horrific childhood and her abusive family—a delicious sob story that the media would devour. Flipping through the pages for the nastiest of spells, her eyes spotted something interesting.

“Demon summoning, hmm?” Ella ran her tongue over her bottom lip in thought, “I’ll have to clean that up for the press, won’t I? A fairy, I think. Yes, I’ll call it a fairy godmother.”

Display Name: Ryari
Age: 23
Gender: Male

Jonah waited for the crowd to laugh. He waited in a moment that was an eternity. Nothing. Not even the sharpest bark of a laugh that you always hear from that one person who things the stupidest things are funny.

"Well, I'm glad for that." He stood up and brushed the grass from his chest and knees. The spotlights shining down upon the field, the people dead quiet.

His helmet was spinning in the dirt at his feet, a large dent where his left temple would be were it still inside the helmet. With one foot pressing it the helmet stopped spinning.

The crowd erupted in a cheer as the young man bent to scoop up the dented helm. The sound was completely deafening. Jonah turned his gaze once more out toward the audience, unable to believe his ears. They were cheering?

Just then the announcer's voice blared on the overhead system. "HE'S UP! HE'S UP! JONAH'S UP!" Holding the helmet in his hand he turned to make his way off the field. This game was most likely over for him but he was just glad that he was able to walk away from it. Many others who had been struck such would be severely injured or worse.

As he was making his way off, a man approached holding the weapon of his near destruction. This man was helmeted and his chest and lower legs were covered in a padded armour, one hand gloved for protection as well.

"I thought you might want this." the other man stated with a grin, holding out the object. "Glad you're okay Jonah." The masked fellow was one of many opponents Jonah had faced on the field today, but he knew that the man was sincere.

Jonah reached out and plucked the object from his opponent's hand, tossing it into the air once or twice before catching it and making his way off.

"Baseball..." the crowd favourite muttered loud enough for the rest of his team to hear. "...It's a helluva battle, ain't it?" With that, he flashed a brilliant smile and went into the locker room, the crowd's cheers still ringing in his ears.

Xinran - On a positive note, your post was well written. You're a good writer, and there were no visible spelling or grammars that I could see, save one - Xinrantried. I know that you know that there should have been a space there, but that's a minor thing. Now, on the critiquing... There was a lot of dialogue between two people in this post, and the rules of this thread stated that there was to be no godmoding - that we wanted to see how you reacted with no one else around. If we take out all of this, there's not much... Also, there was not much description in your post at all. So, I'm afraid that I'm going to have say that your post is DENIED.

Xing Fei - Wonderful job! Your post was very well written, and original. It was a nice twist on the fairly tale that I assume it's based off of. It was very interesting, and I liked the darker undertone to it. Those always seem to speak to me. Good job! ACCEPTED

Ryari - On a positive note, your post was well written, and I liked the originality of it. It was interesting. However, there was not much internal thoughts or description or anything. Also, you had other people talking, and like I told Xinran, in the rules we stated that there was to be godmoding - we want to see how your react if there are no other characters around, and if you take away all that, there's not much at all. So, I'm afraid I'm going to have to say that your post is DENIED.

Xinran and Ryari - Both of you need to sign up and do either three rounds of Battle Training or the one Romance Training and pass with a Good or Excellent.

Display Name: Yuta
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Yuta splashed water onto the grass as he jumped into the still water. He had just recently found this area in the forest, trees surrounded him and the river that ran through. He had been traveling for a week's worth of time already, and he still did not feel homesick. He knew this was a good sign for a traveler. He had figured that if he started to feel homesick after he left Makapu Village, then he would have no hope as a traveler. It was a good relief to be outdoors for so long. He had never thought of what freedoms traveling would offer, but also didn't know of what luxuries he would be without. He was still trying to acclimate to the no bathroom situation. He also found himself washing his body less often than when he used to live at the inn where bathing was in a common abundance.

Yuta swam a few strokes in circles before finally standing up in the thigh deep water. He was sure to rub down in the more important parts of his body while washing. He tried the best to wash off his body with the absence of soap. Of course this made Yuta even more grateful for his time at Inn in Makapu Village. Yet, while washing himself he started letting those grateful feelings overflow in his mind. He sighed and lowered himself into the water and adjusted himself to float boundlessly on his back. Because there was a river running through this forest, there was a small pathway of a clearing in the tree tops to look overhead at the skies.

Yuta now found himself staring up at the skies. He couldn't figure out if he should be disappointed in himself or proud thus far into his journey. So far he had discovered how grateful for amenities villages and towns offer that people reside in. Of course with all this appreciativeness, memories of living in the inn flooded his mind constantly. That was where he could not decide if this was progress or not. It occurred to Yuta he was still looking toward the past like he used to when he lived in Makapu Village. The whole meaning of this journey was to create a new future, where the past did not matter no longer. Yet, had this been done?

"No it hasn't" Yuta said to himself softly. He felt as if he was failing what he wanted to accomplish. Yuta had great parents already, so there was no need to look back for his old ones. Did he really need to come back to the subject of his birth parents though? There was no need for Yuta to think of his parents, but it had just come up suddenly as his mind wandered. He still had many unanswered questions. A gap in his knowledge was void, and even the thought of his adoptive parents couldn't fill it. This wasn't what Yuta wanted to do when he left Makapu Village. He wanted to leave behind this day dream of his parents. He clutched his fists and closed his eyes tightly.

When Yuta opened his eyes he finally noticed that the sun had fallen and night was abound. He had dazed off once again, for even he did not know exactly for how long. He knew for sure that he was close to becoming a prune and needed to dry himself off. Yuta stumbled out of the water to only feel the icy chill of the air on his wet body. He quickly wrapped his arms around himself and cursed himself silently for not collecting wood to make a fire early on. He picked up his cloak and wrapped it around his chilled body and huddled himself under it for a moment shivering silently. He certainly missed the luxury of having a bed to use.

Yuta quickly shook his head softly. Now was not a good time to be caught in a day dream once again. Not unless he wanted to pick a fight against ammonia. He stood up and walked around trying to find wood to use for a fire. He held his hands in front of his mouth and blew any warm air he could muster into them. He was thankful to whichever spirits or gods may be in the area watching over him as he was able to scrounge a pile of sticks that would burn through the night as a small fire.

Once Yuta had finally stacked his wood in a clearing he knew that would not let the fire spread, he crawled over to his folded clothes and looked for the pouch that had his flint stones. He opened the small pouch and pulled it out in relief. Glad that it was still there. He figured that somehow he may have dropped it somewhere along the line of his travels and would be without a fire for the night. He felt himself shiver a bit as he stared at his flint stones happily. It was a wake up call to him and he quickly crawled back over to his pile of sticks and began to strike his flint stones. Yuta found it hard to start the fire while he was cold and shivering, but he finally succeeded in starting the fire.

Yuta sat by the fire as close as he could, hugging his cloak tightly to his body, even though it was wet from being tangled around his body. He blinked a few times and sighed. His day dreaming caused him to have this unfortunate experience this night. Yuta was disappointed that even after he left Makapu Village, he still was caught up easily in a daze. It was the same disappointment he felt when he felt like he had failed his adoptive father's training. The whole reasoning of Kazuki's training him was so he would become more focused and blank out in dazes less. Yuta became more focused he admitted, when it involved work or tasks. Otherwise, Yuta felt as he was hopelessly otherwise always day dreaming like he did earlier in the river. Even now he was doing it again.

“Gah!” Yuta said out loud as he chuckled to himself. It was unbelievable to Yuta how hopeless he was that he just had to laugh about it sometimes. He grabbed his pile of folded clothes and pulled them closer to him and rested his head on the pile. It wasn't a soft feather inn pillow, but it would do. He was feeling his wet cloak slowly begin to dry off from the warmth of the fire, so the uncomfortable chilled feeling was leaving his body. Tomorrow would be another day that Yuta would be able to work on. He hoped that maybe tomorrow he'd have a break through, and suddenly leave the crossroads in his life, no matter how unlikely it seemed he couldn't help it but pray. Until then, he closed his eyes to stop his mind and relax it from all his racing thoughts. Even day dreaming was tiring, and he needed his rest.