Display Name: Cao Ren
Age: 18
Gender: Male


It was a cold night. The stars had been twinkling one by one every couple of minutes. The full moon looked as if you could touch it. The air of the barren wasteland was dry and crisp. It smelled like pollution everywhere. But for some reason, there was a shack in the middle of the land.....

Jean was a tall man that wore black pants and a black and red tank-top with a white cowboy hat and a long badge cloak. His horse seemed like it was fit for him. Black, and big with a red saddle. "This holster is irritating me..." Jean said. He always carried around two guns with him that looked way different from each other. This was his job. He was a bounty Hunter.

Jean started down the hill to the shack in the middle of nowhere. Every now and then his horse would stumble from the terrain which was rocky and clumped together, and Jean would say "God damnit!" They got about 2 miles to the shack and Jean felt that his horse had pushed down on something. It wasn't something natural either. It almost felt as if it were a button. "Weird..." Jean murmured to himself. About 2 minutes later, a cannon came up on a glimmering rod of steel. It had 4 barrels and a chain of long, machine gun bullets hanging from its side. On top of it was a red piece of glass that looked as if it were looking at Jean.

"Heh, so I found you after all eh? You know you have a lot of money on your head..." Jean said expecting an answer from the gun. "This is a nice self-defense mechanism you have here. I may not be able to get past this myself!" He said as he laughed. "Ha, ha...." At that moment, the bounty hunter kicked his steeds side and the steed rushed forward, trying to outrun the guns targeting system, but it failed. The red glass flickered, and then a barrage of bullets came shooting at Jean and the horse. "Tch....Guess this isn't gonna wo-" The horse flipped over. "Damn...." Jean said as he got up brushing of the dirt on his knees. He looked at the horse and saw that it had been shot in the leg 4 times and on the side 6 times. Its breathing stopped. "You killed my horse......" Jean said walking towards the gun. "Your a machine rite? And machines can't feel pain rite?" Jean said as he got closer to the gun. "Then let me show you something else. Fear!" Jean drew both of his guns and pointed them at the machine gun.

The machine gun let out another barrage of bullets a Jean. Jean jumped up into the air and watched as the bullets cut a boulder clean in half. ".....Can't get hit by that now can I?". He landed on the ground and started shooting at the gun with his own gun. He was using the smaller while, while he kept his finger pressed down on the trigger on the bigger gun. With the smaller one, he shot at the fuel cord that was hanging of the guns bottom. He hit it several times, but no gasoline leaked or anything. "Made of Titanium bonds...Clever." The gun made a sound that let Jean know he was targeted again. The gun shot at jean as he strafed to the rite. "Come on damn it! Hurry up and finish!" He said to himself. One bullet grazed his leg by his calf. "URGH!" Jean said as he knelt down. The gun had stopped short to reload. "Hurry.....up...." He said. All he heard was the sound of a gun cocking back to show it finished. "Damn...." The gun let out a straight line that was heading straight to Jean. Then the sound of an airplanes propeller was heard in Jeans right hand. His other gun had finished what it was doing. "YES!" He said as he aimed it at the machine gun. He shot at the machine gun and the line of bullets that was about to hit him, instantly vanished like nothing, along with the guns barrels. "That's what I expect of highly pressured air with a shotgun shell in it". He said as he limped up. He walked over to the dead horse and knelt down for a while. "Amen" he said. He then took off the saddle from the horse and looked over at the sky. The sun was coming up. Then he looked over at the house and saw a man on a hover bike, rushing off. "Damn it...He got away again....I was so close t-" He looked down at his dead horse. "Huh, I guess this is the responsibility I took when I took the job." He put the saddle over his back and began to walk towards the sun......

A few hours later, Jean arrived in a peaceful town....Well at least it looked that way. It was an old western style town with a bar and a sheriff's office in its vicinity. He walked over to the bar and pushed through the hanging doors. They swooped back and forth for a while before coming to a complete stop. He walked over to the bar and on his way there, he was getting some hostile looks. Whispering could be heard everywhere like "Who's that guy?" and "We should rob him...see if he has any money....." He sat down and called the bar tender over. "Hand me a cold one will ya?" He asked him. "Of course sir." The bar tender said while buttoning his white shirt and then his vest up. "While you're at it, you're hair is looking crazy, fuzz it out will ya?" "Sure sir." he said with an aggravated look. It was silent for a while, then a lady with brown, long, curled hair and a red dress with white dots on it.

"Hey there!" She said to the mysterious man. Jean didn't answer back. She bit her lip then grabbed him by the shoulders. "I hope you don't do this to all the girls you meet! Do you?!" She screamed at him. Everyone looked at them in the bar. "Can you get off of me please? I'm trying to enjoy my drink." Jean said to her. She let go. "Fine. I guess you don't want to know where 'Diaz' is.....". She got up and started walking away. Jean grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "How do you know about him?" He asked her. "So a man sparks your interest and not me? What a shame." She brushed his hand off of her. "Anyways, If you want to know where he is, you have to do me a favor". "Whats the Favor?" Jean asked. "Give me a kiss."

"WHAAAAAT?!" Everyone in the bar said in unison. Jean put his beer down and looked at her. "For what reason would a classy girl like you, want a kiss from me for?". "Because I want one." She giggled as she replied. All of a sudden, everyone surrounded Jean and the girl. "You want to kiss him but none of us?! That's very rude missy!. "All of you are to ugly and smell like alcohol!". Jean rose up. "Oh! So the tough guy stands up for his girl eh? SIT BACK DOWN! The guy grabbed Jean's shoulder. All that was heard was a thump, and the guy fell. They all turned him over and saw that his stomach had been pushed in and blood was splattered on his mouth. "WHAT THE HELL?!", "NO WAY!", "THIS IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!!!", "Oh my!" was all that was heard for a while. Then everyone looked a Jean sitting down drinking his beer. "What....?" was all he said. Then everyone went back to their seats. "Well it looks like your strong enough to take on my case...." the lady said. "Where's Diaz?" Jean asked her. "I'll tell you if you finish my case for me." She picked up his beer and drunk the rest from the glass in one gulp. "Deal?" She said. ".....This just keeps getting worse and worse doesn't it?"

Display Name: Kusame
Age: 16
Gender: Female

Sunlight glinted off the bracelet held in Kusame’s outstretched hand, refracting shards of sapphire light across the smooth planes of her face. While she was certainly glad to possess such a prize, she was far more enthralled by the idea that it was because of her own initiative that she first came in contact with it. After all, it went without saying that she and the silver piece of jewelry were hardly a perfect match. She was no more than an impoverished nomad, and the bracelet she now grasped had once adorned the wrist of noblewoman. The contrast between the two was almost laughable – her wrist was anything but regal. The thin white scar blemishing it seemed to mock her at the thought.

The Waterbender’s mind fell adrift then, no longer tethered by the realm of reality. It was easy to fall prey to her musings out here in this large open field, with the grass swaying back and forth across her body, being shaped and set into motion by the breeze. She could discern the faint scent of wildflowers before she was inexplicably trapped in yet another memory.

Kuu was four years old and standing precariously on the ledge of an iceberg. By the frigid temperature and condensation billowing from her tiny mouth, it was clear the young girl was back in her native village, the Northern Water Tribe. This had to be a memory though, as she had absolutely no intention of returning to that frozen wasteland anytime soon. The sky was bright and filled with cumulus clouds, all bunching together to look like melted marshmallows. She could make out the shape of a flying pig in the billowing piles of white, but had to remind herself that she wasn’t there to daydream. She was there to go penguin sledding, and she was never one to lose sight of her goal.

Today was a good day for penguin sledding, little Kusame decided. The weather was just right so that the snow wasn’t too icy, and wouldn’t be that unwelcoming if she were to fall into its frigid embrace. Now the only thing she needed was a penguin and she’d be set. Her cerulean eyes went about searching for the perfect specimen, before landing on a large one – clearly the alpha male of the group. Always up for a challenge, she snuck up behind it, wrapping her arms around him so that they were wedged in between his two sets of flippers. The penguin was quick to anger, thrashing its head back so that her hold was loosened and she fell down onto the snow. He then decided to round on her, his beetle black eyes menacing as he took a giant step forward. Kuu wasn’t usually quick to fear, but right now she was paralyzed by it, cowering on the ground as she tried vainly to scuttle away.

It was then that she saw it, a small crevice in the ice that she might just be able to fit through with her tiny body. Using her legs, she pushed down hard on the ground and propelled herself backward into the crevice. It wasn’t very deep however, and the penguin wasn’t deterred by her sudden movement. It was far too large to get far enough in, but it snapped at her menacingly with its teeth. The young Waterbender reached out a hand to smack it away with her fist. Her punch collided, but in turn the penguin latched its jaw around her forearm, digging into the flesh of her wrist. Dark crimson blood seeped through her parka, blossoming up through the fur. At that the penguin seemed to have been satisfied, as it turned around with one last agitated growl and took off. Gasping for breath, Kusame held her uninjured hand to her chest, as if physically trying to steady her heart.

Kuu waited a few moments until the coast was clear before she removed herself from the crevice, checking to make sure the penguin was gone. Blood still spilled from the fresh wound on her wrist, so Kusame applied pressure and willed her feet to carry her home faster.

The memory came and went in the blink of an eye, and Kusame was left staring at the bracelet, all remnants of her past life banished to the farthest recesses of her mind. The only thing that did matter now was the fact that she could hide the scar from the public eye. After all, why should her beauty be marred by a mere scratch? She deserved it every bit as much as that cantankerous old noblewoman did. Maybe filching it from her had been for the best. Kusame knew well enough that only those able to adapt would survive in this hate-filled world, and she wasn’t about to let her caste get in the way of what she wanted. Take from the rich, give to the poor. That’s what she’d do.

Ito Kitsumo - I didn't really like the other character in this, but since it was subtle, I'll let it go. It was well written and well done. Oh, and I liked the imagery. Good job. ACCEPTED

Cao Ren - Interesting, and great length, but all the other characters in there bothered me. It took away from your character. Also, there was too much spoken words and not enough of what he was thinking and feeling. DENIED. Please go through either the Battle Training or Romance Training.

Kusame - Good job. I like the feeling in the post, and the spelling and grammar was good, as was the length. ACCEPTED

Display Name: Akumu Kuroranpu
Age: 16
Gender: ^_^ Guy.

Red and orange Flames raged and roared around the once thick, green, and luscious forest, igniting trees and slowly bringing them down and turning them to ash as they fueled and strengthened the inferno. Smoke rising through the tallest trees as if alerting the entire world to the fire, or perhaps showing just how deadly and destructive, yet beautiful fire can be.

Akumu Kuroranpu, a high intermediate level firebender was locked in a heated battle with another fire bender. His elegant and graceful firebending clashed greatly with Akumu's savage and more brutal style. The firebender's orange flames mixing with Akumu's red as they joined and slowly ate away at the once beautiful forest.

Akumu's cloak and fire nation shirt was gone, leaving his scarred and burned torso and arms for all to see, all that was on his upper body was his ruby and sapphire bracelet, which fit perfectly around his right wrist. His flesh appeared more red than the pale skin most fire nation people have, this was due to his many burns.

Sweat dripped down Akumu's body. He was nervous, he had never been up against a fire bender as skilled as this. But that wasn't the only reason he was sweating. Akumu was fatigued, his body tired, his mind slowing. The heat was also taking its toll on Akumu as well. His breathing was heavy, he was dripping wet with sweat. He considered retreating, but would the man pursue? Would he be allowed to flee? Would the heat cause him to fall unconscious? Should he stay and fight? All these thoughts ran through Akumu's head. He was nervous and in fact, a bit frightened. He was doing everything he could to keep his cool, but it was taking more willpower than he had hoped. He needed to make a decision, and fast.

Akumu ran all the possible scenarios in his head. Each scenario making him more nervous than before. His mind kept centering on the decision to fight. He didn't want to because of the fear of defeat slowly creeping its way into his mind. But what choice gave him a better chance, he would most likely be pursued, and his opponent may just be as exhausted as he was. It was a risk he had to take.

"So be it..." Akumu muttered, "I'm seeing this through to the end..."

Akumu breathed in and out, and looking at his opponent, Akumu kicked at his opponent, releasing a wave of red flame as it rushed towards the firebender, running after his fire on foot, clawing at his opponent once he could see him again, each swipe releasing another flame.

Display Name: Genjiro
Age: 18
Gender: Male

In wasn't nearly midday yet, but the streets of outer ring of Ba Sing Se bustled to near bursting with the myriad of refugees and residents. The dry heat of summer was in full swing, lending the cramped streets a thick, putrid smell of sweat and filth. Hawkers cried their wares on almost every street corner, shriveled vegetables and the rare sun-dried fruit earning no more than a disgusted glance from penniless refugees. Even jugglers and musicians dotting the corners in their eye-wrenching bright colors did little to turn the frowns of the somber crowds. The city was dying, and Genjiro knew he was at least partly to blame for it.

His disguise was not elaborate, but he did not think that anyone would recognize the former sword-general in the plain, dirty woolens he wore now. Functional, but lacking the pomp of the silk robes and satin cloaks he had once demanded for himself. The Steel Wolf did not shame himself to dress like a commoner, not in his seemingly boundless arrogance, and he certainly had no business in the low quarters.

Thoughts of his past twisted his already dark grimace into a snarl, and he started as a younger man passing by cringed and shied out of his way, only to trip backwards over a cabbage stand, spilling the pitiful produce over the sun-baked mud street. A distressed, wild cry of "My Cabbages........!" was lost to his acute hearing as he stalked down the road, grim expression clearing a path in the thick throng. Perhaps it was the three blades he had slung across his back, and the several others at each hip, though.

Something did catch his attention, however. He had earned his name not only for his ferocity, but for his wolf-like senses. His nose twitched, and he cringed against the smell of refuse, but caught a scent of.... Odd... Mint. Very few people could afford seasoning of any kind in this quarter, and the light, airy smell was a remnant of his past that he had loved to indulge in. Curiosity sparked, he followed the scent until coming upon a large cart painting in eye jarringly brilliant hues. Genjiro laughed beneath his breath, more a growling bark than anything. A traveling troupe, stuck here, of all places.

He reached the cart, not sure himself why he was here, and climbed to wooden steps up to the door of the cart. He peered inside, molten eyes able to make out shapes in the gloomy half light. He had, for some time, been hoping to have his cards read, something he had not been able to do often as a general. Others had called him crazed and superstitious, but few questioned one of the greatest generas Ba Sing Sae had ever seen, no matter his methods. Genjiro believed in fortune more strongly than he did in anything else, and his years at war had only firmed his beliefs. He had seen armies outnumbered five to one win because of a storm that came out of no where, his own troops live when he had been sure that they were all going to die because of a stray fire blast that set the opposing army's supplies alight.

He coughed, clearing his through. "Anyone here a card reader?" He called into the gloom. Hopefully they would have some answers. Destiny could be a funny thing, and he hoped he could at least get the upper hand for a while.

---

He knew he should have left Ba Sing Sae before something like this happened. He should have gotten away from the capital, away from the people who thought him a traitor, no matter what the cards read. Just, he had never ignored a reading before, especially as truthful as the one he'd just had, and didn't want to find out what happened if he did. Fate didn't liked to be toyed with.

He had been sitting at the bar, just outside the caravan where his cards had been read. Just sitting, minding his own business, when some soldiers entered the small, dingy establishment. Fate must have been feeling spiteful today, for of all the thousands of lowly soldiers in Ba Sing Sae, she had to choose two who knew of and recognized him to enter the tiny pub. He had turned away and tried to hide his very distinctive face behind the shroud of his hood, but they had opted to sit at the bar and his face was one very hard to forget.

He could understand why they hated him. Hell, if he had been in their position, he probably would have hated himself as well. That earned a low, wry chuckle. Their leader, a low ranking officer, didn't hesitate in calling him out from they moment recognition dawned on his too young face, lashing him with petty insults and blaming him for this and that, most notably the recent attacks on Ba Sing Sae. That was an accusation he was more than used to and brushed off like the rest.

When the young fellow, barely old enough to be shaving, Genjiro thought, drew his sword with clumsiness only visible to a blademaster, he really hadn't wanted to make a scene. Even when the boy lofted the blade and 'pronounced justice on the traitor', he had barely sighed.

Genjiro felt at the several wide loops in his belt, absentmindedly deciding whether to stop the young upstart with a long knife or an actual blade... His broad hand settled on his dirk, a keen, slender weapon of some length between a short sword and a long dagger, and lofted the tapered blade deftly in his hand. With almost despairing ease, he fell into a defensive stance as the boy rushed at him and steel clashed against steel. With an almost effortless twist, he disarmed the soldier and pressed the keen steel of his dirk against the boy's throat.

"I should kill you..." He growled menacingly, curving his lips into a wicked, wolfish smile. "I have my reputation to uphold..." The Steel Wolf wasn't merciful. He never had been... When he was a younger, foolish man. But... he didn't kill any more. Slanting the blade so the flat was pressed against the boy's throat, he thrust hard, knocking him back a few paces. The soldier and his lackeys scurried out of the pub without even picking up the sword he had dropped.

Genjiro picked up the blade and sighed heavily, then slipped it in a spare belt loop after his dirk. He tried not to carry too many weapons on him, but didn't feel at ease without at least a couple knives, his favored dirk, and a sword. Only then did he realize what a scene he had made, and sighed again. Hoping the proprietress, a formidable woman with little tolerance for common brawlers, hadn't seen the scene he had just made, Genjiro slipped onto a rough wooden bar stool and called a pretty tavern maid over to fetch him some gin and tonic.

Display Name: Izumi
Age: 15
Gender: Female

The Alaskan sky glittered in the sunlight during midday on the Alaskan tundra. Lichen and small shrubs were sprawled out all over the snowy and icy infested area. An occasional arctic fox peeped out of it's den wishfully hoping to find some prey while a snowy owl flew by with her days catch hanging lifelessly in her beak. The cool crisp air was at a stand still. Everything seemed peaceful until a loud, almost unbearable noise, ripped through the tundra and echoed on for miles.

Entering from the southeast of the tundra was a pack of barking dogs pulling along a sled filled with two occupants. One and elderly woman named Sakari, and the other a very young boy named Kilaun. Both were members of an Inuit tribe not far from where they were enjoying their midday ride. As Sakari directed the sled she watched as Kilaun bent down and let his hand slide above the smooth ice. The tundra was full of beautiful and magical things to observe and adventures to encounter.

Even at an old age Sakari loved to spend time with the children of her tribe, especially Kilaun. He was the rowdiest one of them all. She always found him trying crazy things and exploring new territories. After asking him to spend time with her on a very lonesome day the two became inseparable. Sakari enjoyed his company for she was not married due to her inability of producing children. She was extremely fertile and no man wanted her. She sought company in the little ones cause they were gentle souls that always accepted her.

As the sled moved on the light that once covered the tundra began slipping away little by little. Sakari loved the tundra at night. The way the light from the moon refracted onto the ice reminded her the way her mothers smile would lighten up a room. It had been a long time since Sakari had thought about her mother. Maybe it was cause the moon was extremely vibrant tonight. No matter Sakari kept her eyes open making sure they didn't ride straight into a ditch or an animal den of some sort.

After a couple of minutes Sakari decided to turn her head to check up on Kilaun. She peered back watching the youngun enjoy his sled ride. He was sitting on the edge of the sled, a foolish thing Sakari thought but what was she to do? She hated ordering children around. Just as Sakari took her final glance at Kilaun and turned around, she pulled the dogs to an abrupt halt. She flew forward hitting into the wooden frame of the sled. As she rebounded off she turned back and saw Kilaun lying upside down on the ice. She would have laughed at his funny landing if it were not only for the dire situation she now found herself in.

Sakari hurriedly ran to Kilaun to make sure he was ok. Sakari watched as he advanced toward her, she could tell how furious he was. Even in the cold weather his face was too red to be caused by his chills. When he came right to her she put her hand over his soon to be open mouth and held it there. She looked him in the eyes and gave him an "if you say anything right now you're gonna get it" look. She watched as he cooled down and slowly moved her hand away. Sakari wanted it to be an apologetic moment but this situation did not call for it.

Right in front of their eyes lay a broken jet dug into the ice. The nose of the jet was torn in half. Both wings were missing and there was shattered glass and debris everywhere. Sakari couldn't help but shed a tear. She knew what the contraption was. She had seen a few fly over their village, and knew it transported humans. Which could only mean that there were bodies over there; most likely dead she thought. On the other hand Sakari looked at Kilaun's excited face. She could tell he was amazed by the sight. Ignorance she thought to herself.

As she inched forward she could feel Kilaun inching up behind her. She turned around and gave him another one of her distinguishable looks. She knew he understood what she meant, especially since she watched him run back to the sled and stayed put. Sakari returned to advancing toward the jet. With each step she took Sakari felt herself gag more and more. If she saw a dead body she feared of fainting in front of Kilaun. He'd most likely would come and help her, see the dead body and faint himself. When she neared the side of the jet she began searching. Lifting up the pieces of debris were easy since most of the things incinerated on impact. As she moved around Sakari was happy she hadn't happened upon and corpses.

After a while of searching Sakari had made her way to the back of the jet. She had found bloodstained clothing but with no bodies wearing them. She has suspected that they burned up when the jet exploded on its impact on the ice. It had gotten a bit darker but the moon provided her with the light she required. Just as she was about to put down the last piece of debris that she decided on checking she heard something. Instinctively she lurched back and began hyperventilating. She looked around her and saw nothing. She decided to inch closer one more time.

When she did the noise repeated itself. She waited an listened one more time and moved to where the noise was coming from. She moved aside a piece of metal and was shocked by what she saw. Laying right in front of her was the body of a small child. A girl; she could tell by the long hair. The child was full of cuts and bruises and her body had lost all color. She lay there whimpering. Sakari immediately took off her parka and gently placed the girl inside. For the first time her maternal instincts were kicking in.

She lifted the girl and hurried back to the sled. On her way Sakari began bombarding herself with her own questions. Would the little girl survive? Would she be accepted into the tribe? Could she be the child Sakari has prayed for, for her entire life? Was this a blessing from the Great Spirits to her? Sakari finally focused back and hurried. "A child I can call my own." she hoped as she got into the sled with Kilaun and road home.

I was bored of waiting from my prompt, so here's this little thing I whipped up for your consideration.

Display name: Jin Hou
Age: 16
Gender: Male

((This is an idea for a novel of mine, a work in progress, and about half-way through the book, so you won’t get a lot of it. Regardless, I hope you like it.))

It was peaceful. The sun shone down on the calm hills of the Scottish highlands. Birds sang, proud elk pranced through the tall grass, and a gentle, cooling breeze whispered, rustling the leaves in the trees. A small creek lazily meandered across the fields, adding to the tranquility of the scene. At the moment, it could have been called the most serene place on earth.

Than, with a crack of plasma that sounded like a gunshot, that all changed. The deer darted off towards the safety of the woods while birds flew from their nests in the trees to find a more suitable shelter, while in the middle of the grove, reality began to split open. Splinters of space shattered like so many shards of glass, catching and reflecting the light, and in the middle of the rip, a form began to appear.

Refined bolts of plasma, the only energy strong enough to tear apart the fabric of space and time, lashed out from the empty pit of space and time, rippling across Steve, the one inside the portal. With a gasp, he fell through, heaving, attempting to catch his breath. He rolled to his back and watched the portal close itself, like watching a glass window being shattered in reverse, as the shards of reality reassembled itself, until it was as if nothing happened. Birds began to sing again.

Gasping and coughing, Steve dragged himself towards the small river, burying his face in its cooling waters. Weakly, the ancient man with the teenage body lifted himself from the waters to stare at his young reflection. “One-thousand years,” He said to his likeness. “One-thousand years, and that trip still shocks the hell out of me.”

The time traveler collapsed on the ground, and allowed himself a few moments to recuperate. He flipped open his pocket watch and the frantic ticking settled down into single second increments as he fully synched with time. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus enough to read out the date and his location near the bottom as it ticked into place. “July 1297, near Dundee, Scotland…” He closed his eyes and scoured his memory for the events of that year. “The First War of Scottish Independence.” Steve smiled to himself. Rarely was it this simple, though he enjoyed it when he knew what John was going to do.

Standing up, he crested the highest hill and peered across the landscape. In the distance he saw the large, foreboding castle, Dundee, keeping out the armies of the English, like a dam withholding the flood. Steve cracked his neck to the left, than to the right. “John’s not going to be stopped by me talking to myself,” he said. “Time to get to work.” He walked down the hill, practicing his Scottish accent.

The blonde-haired teen slunk towards the camp, keeping low and silent, ducking behind bushes and hiding behind trees, making sure to keep out of sight from the British troops. All this secrecy was more out of necessity rather than fear. After all, he was at Hiroshima in 1945, when they dropped the bomb. Luckily, he made it out just in time. After that, what did he have to be afraid of?

Breathing softly, yet calmly, Steve snuck behind a large tent that at least looked like it contained someone important. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at himself. One-thousand and seventeen years old, he should rely on intelligence more than luck and guesswork. But, as it would seem, sheer luck worked for him, at least this one. He heard John in the tent.

Fuming, the ancient boy gritted his teeth and gripped the grass below him, trying to regain control and a level head. He could actually feel his counterpart's malice and hatred in his sibilant voice. 'After all he's done,' Steve thought, gripping the handle of his knife. 'And all that seperates us is a few feet and a layer of tent canvas.'

But, the blonde man calmed down. Biting his lower lip and taking low, deep breaths, he refused to think of that. Even if murder was the route he'd have to take to stop John, which he wasn't even sure of yet, here, in the heart of a military camp filled with heavily armed soldiers, armed only with a knife, was hardly the time or the place for it.

What did Steve have? He had reason, the patience of a man eternal, and the ability to be anywhere at anytime. If John wanted to play, he'd go up against an equal opponent, equally armed with knowledge. He held up his pocket watch, focusing on the time. 'Time to pay William Wallace a visit,' he thought, sparing a glance at the Castle Dundee. 'It's only a fortress filled with angry, armed Scotsmen,' he joked.

He focused on the watch, forcing it to do his will with the sheer power of his mind, feeling the ticking and whirring of the gears and complex, tiny instruments within that most humans couldn't even comprehend. Even one as ancient as he was only able to scratch the surface of such unfathomable technologies within the small device. No matter how many hundreds of times he used it, no matter how second-nature it was to him, the time traveler still marveled at it with every use.

A tiny hole opened in the center of the watch where the two hands on the face of the clock met. The tiny device rattled and shook violently as the gears wound at thousands of revolutions per second, and the hands of the clock spun so quickly that they became nothing more than blurs circling the entire face of the clock and from the hole, plasma began to flow out, pools of lightning surging out, eventually dripping off from the face of the clock.

Than it bubbled out, like a balloon inflating, into a perfect sphere. It engulfed the watch, than Steve's arm up to his elbow. Within a few moments, he was within the sphere of plasma. He closed the watch and hung on to it's chain for dear life, knowing what was coming next.

The watch lept forward towards their destination, dragging the man behind him. He held his breath and tightened his grip on the watch. He had no idea what would happen if he lost his grip, nor did he ever want to. It was the one thing that ever frightened him nowadays.

With a flash, a bang, and pain all over his body, Steve crashed into a cold stone floor. He was winded, but that was the only damage from the tear in reality. Luckily, traveling through space was never as physically draining as time jumps. Within a few seconds of heavy breathing, the time traveler was on his feet once more. He cracked his neck to the left, than the right. "Time's wasting," he told himself.

Display name: Hajime Harutomo
Age: 16
Gender: male

Hajime returned from his mission to stop the fire beast from destroying the Hidden Leaf Village, and decided that he’d go back to training in some new Ninjutsu, specifically the Sight of Chakra Nature, a very helpful Hyûga Ninjutsu that allowed the user to see what kinds of Chakra Natures the opponent has inside of them, Hajime went to the Hyûga mansion and borrowed the scroll from the immense scroll library, he then went to his training area and read the scrolls contents. Once he began reading it, it seemed quite easy to perform. Once he finished reading the scroll, he decided to practice it out a bit, so he got up and said “Byakugan!” He then began to circulate Chakra Towards his eyes, so they became stronger, able to see chakra Natures, once he thought that he had done well, he lifted his own hand up to see if he could tell what was the strongest in him at this point, and so he did, when he did he saw that it was Fuuton, or Wind Elemental Chakra, something quite handy with the Byakugan.

Hajime satisfied with knowing that it worked on his own Chakra Nature, decided to go and look for other peoples Chakra Natures. So he simply used his Byakugan, and looked around the village, he could see faintly everybody’s Chakra Natures, some were Affluent with Fire Chakra, some with Earth, some water, there were even some that were affluent to the Wind Chakra Nature just like him, but there were some that he couldn’t register, because either they were hiding they element, or they didn’t have any, he filed those under the Taijutsu Masters.

Hajime’s vision started to blur, appearently he was using up to much Chakra, or he was sending too much to his eyes, either way, his head started to spin, and his head started to ache, he then shut down his Byakugan, but the moment he did, he fainted, and fell to the ground, in a terrible pain, like none that he’d ever experienced before, it just overwhelmed him, and forced him into an unconscious state to recover his Chakra Reserves.

[glow=red,2,300][shadow=red,left,300]~Three Hours Later~[/shadow][/glow]

After passing out for three hours, Hajime awoke refreshed and ready to continue his training, he got up and reactivated his Byakugan, and sent more Chakra into his eyes, just enough to use the Sight of Chakra Nature Ninjutsu, he then walked around town with this activated, muttering the Chakra Natures of people to himself as he walked by them, he’d mutter stuff such as “Fire Chakra, Water Chakra, Earth Chakra, oh a rare one, Wood Chakra.” As he walked, an obvious thing was in his jacket pocket, and that was the scroll for the Ninjutsu, he was walking back towards the Hyûga Mansion to put the scroll back, and grab a new scroll.

Upon arrival, he started to see almost double the Chakra Natures he’d seen outside, and when he first used the Ninjutsu, he then deactivated the Byakugan, and returned the scroll, he didn’t need it anymore, he memorized it every single word in it, and hoped that he had learned it to the fullest.

((Note: this is a training post from Naruto Forum RP, I recieve and 8/10 on it, this is my own training, no one elses))

Display Name: Wu Gwai
Age: 27
Gender: M

The open window, the warm rays of afternoon sunlight, the soft breeze, the distant sounds of giggling girls and the smell of the rustic countryside... It was all
killing him. The sweet allure of lounging in the tall grass and taking a long nap were tempting beyond reason.

Wu took a long, deep breath, then sighed, leaning out the window and letting his eyes fall shut. He wasn't going to fall asleep. His intention was only to take a moment and collect his thoughts. It was all very innocent.

"Wu!" The sudden, sharp call from the rather distinct voice of his new employer made Wu jump high and fast enough to crack his head against the top of the window sill. "You took a break an hour ago! Go back to the dining room and clean up the tables!"

His teeth sunk softly into his bottom lip, cutting off a cry of pain as he pulled his head back inside the proper way. Reflexively, Wu reached up to rub his head, mumbling a soft, monotone response as he grabbed his rag and bucket from the counter. He walked back to the dining room, passing through the corridor between rooms. It had to be the ugliest part of the entire restaurant and the only spot that might actually be considered 'decorated'. A strange assortment of random tools, rusty blades and prized animal pelts speckled the narrow hallway. Wu liked to think that instead of a show of pride or masculinity or adornment, this was actually some sort twisted warning sign to keep curious customers from crossing back into the workrooms and kitchen.

Wu could still feel a dull head throb as he stepped out into the dining room. In contrast to the last corridor, the pale colored walls here were completely empty, aside from a few bare windows. The room contained a scattering of mismatched tables, chairs and a few poorly built booths. It was a shoddy place to work or eat and the only restaurant in this shabby little town. He'd come here hoping for a job as a waiter, but none were needed. Instead, he'd taken a part time job as a laborer and dish washer. The pay was terrible. The provided bedroom was no more than an over sized closet and the smell made him suspect that was what it had once been. Still, if he was careful with his earnings, in a few weeks or perhaps months, he'd save enough to move somewhere else and try again.

One couple was seated at the far end of the room chattering softly as they ate. They seemed to be there only to prove to Wu just how pointless it was to be inside working on such a nice day. He supposed he should be grateful to have a job here at all. Times were hard and finding work could be difficult. It was the owner's wife and not the owner himself who had put Wu to work. She was an older woman, petite and shapely and gray before her time. Her face was not the type that might generally be considered beautiful, but she had a sweet smile that popped up every time Wu turned on the charm. His mind continued to wander thusly as he wiped down tables that weren't especially dirty in the first place.

After several minutes of work which dragged on more like several hours, Wu looked up, distracted by the sound of soft footsteps and amused giggling. A tall, slender woman pushed the drapes aside and slipped through the doorway. If he had to guess, he would have judged her in her early twenties, but he might have been off by several years on either side. Her height gave her a more mature appearance, though her delicate features brought a sense of youth. She wore long, dark robes in shades of green and purple, fitted to accentuate her slight figure.

Wu swallowed hard and stared openly, enjoying the faint fluttering of excitement deep within the pit of his stomach. His previously bleak future had suddenly brightened just a bit. He had no idea who she was or where she'd come from, but finding out would be half the fun. He rose to his feet with a sudden sense of purpose, then froze. A man walked in just behind the grown girl, wrapping his arms around her small waist and kissing her face. His new quarry made no protest. Instead, she turned to kiss him back.

It was one thing to find out afterwards that a woman was otherwise attached. To be caught unawares by a husband or boyfriend you didn't know about was understandable, but chasing a girl who you knew claimed was a different matter. Wu finished his tables and retreated to the work room as his fleeting new hopes flew back out the open window, another long sigh escaping his lips once more.

Sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, and with Katara barely around, I'm on my own.

Akumu - Good writing and length. You could have had more actual internal feelings and thoughts. Might want to work on that. ACCEPTED.

Genjiro - Good post. Not much internal thoughts and feelings, but wonderful description. ACCEPTED

Izumi - Good length and writing. Nice description. There was not much internal thought sand feelings, though. Might want to work on that. ACCEPTED

Jin Huo - Interesting storyline, and good writing and length. Good job. ACCEPTED

Hajime - Good length, writing, and description, but not much in the way of internal thoughts and feelings. You might wan to work on that. ACCEPTED

Wu - good writing, length, and description, but not much internal feelings. ACCEPTED

Display Name: Kalmaku
Age: 22
Gender: M

Johnny tried his hardest to ignore the clock on the wall, but nothing was able to grab his attention for more then a few seconds. He had been this way for the past hour. Nothing seemed able to settle him, not the whiskey the bartender poured for him, the hands of Texas hold-em he played, nor the naughty bits the whores of the saloon wiggled at him. Stimulation just couldn't get the better of worry as he watched time slip away. Finally the minute and hour hand pointed to heaven. Johnny slowly rose out of his chair and gave a cocky smirk to the rest of the fellows he was playing with.

"Deal me out these next few hands gents, I'll be right back."

He didn't wait to see if anyone laughed. Johnny swung open the old saloon doors that gave a squeaky protest and stepped out. The hot Texas sun beat down on him. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light before stepping out onto the dusty road. His steps kicked up little wisps of dirt as he strode down the street. The road was empty today. Word had spread about what was going to happen at noon and nobody wanted to be caught between Johnny and Black Bart. He stopped a few paces from turning the corner onto Main street. Just around that corner was a very angry man ready to bet his life that he was a faster draw then Johnny.

Johnny wore a big black duster for just such occasions. He was a slender man, so he could hide himself in the big coat to where people shooting at him would aim for the coat and not his vitals. He kept his light brown hair hidden under a white Stetson and off his face. His dull brass spurs made a "ca-chink" sound with every step. His pistol at his hip caught the sun and sparkled in it briefly before being swallowed up by the duster as he walked. The only thing that made him stand out was his hand.

Johnny really wished his right paw wouldn't tremble so. He knew it was just his nerves acting up and it had nothing to do with him being yellow or not, but he still felt a little shamed over it. It always started a few minutes before he dueled and stopped like clockwork whenever he saw the man he would be facing down. He thanked his stars that it never carried on into the draw or he wouldn't have lived past his first shootout. Johnny licked his lips as he stood in the street. His mouth was dry and tasted a little like throw-up. He wished he would've taken one more shot of whiskey before stepping out.

This fight was pointless. Jenny certainly wasn't offended by what Black Bart called her. She was a whore after all, and a damn fine one at that. But to hear those nasty words come tumbling out of that drunk pigs mouth right in front of him...well that was a little more then Johnny could take. A bout of fisticuffs and a shouting match later and one of them, either Bart or Johnny, would be fit for a pine shirt before the sun set. Johnny just couldn't help himself when he was around Jenny though. That girl just made him stupid. Her soft green eyes and pretty red lips, her smooth skin and gorgeous smile, everything about her drove him loco.

Picturing Jenny in his head made his hands stop shaking. It was all for her really. His late nights of gambling and early mornings working any job he could get were to afford her services. He loved to hear her talk, smell her sweet perfume, taste her lips. She hadn't been with another man in months because of Johnny. When he had enough cash put away they would leave Amarillo and head up north to Dodge City and start over. He would marry Jenny and they would live happily ever after. Unless Bart killed him of course.

Nah, I'm just too damn young and pretty to go down to a pug like him Johnny thought. He stretched his back till it popped and turned the corner. He was going to smoke Old Bart easy, saunter back into the saloon, propose to his dearest and be on the train north by five this evening. Bart was going in the ground. Johnny turned the corner with a grin on his face. The was going to be too easy.

Kalmaku - Good job. Interesting idea and nice description. ACCEPTED

Display Name: Nuvae
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Two feet dipped into the salty ocean water before being quickly jerked out. Those feet, of course, were attached to a body, the entire mass of which was changing levels constantly. That would not last much longer. The cleat Nuvae was using as a hold for his pull-ups was slippery and covered in kelp, not allowing for a proper grip. As he expected, his calloused hands began to slip; trying to tighten his grab only made the situation worse. Attempting one last lift, the young man dropped off the dock and into the sea.

While he swam back in to shore, Nuvae knew that many would find working out while waiting for a boat unnecessary, maybe even a little vain, but it wasn't about improving his physique, already impressive, or showing off to the opposite gender, whom he had difficulty conversing with. It was about putting in some extra effort to become something more than what he already was. It was also about keeping busy, because transitioning from traveling to the northern edge of the Earth Kingdom to waiting for passage to the Northern Water Tribe was a bit of a letdown.

Nuvae sighed as he trudged through the shallows, his worn olive pants and brown vest covered in brine, clinging to his broad frame, and sat down at the edge of the surf. He began to contemplate the journey his father sent him on while fingering the White Lotus tile on his bracelet that served as an indicator of his status as messenger. What was the mysterious society that his parents belonged to? What did the missive say? And why was he, out of all the people in Omashu, chosen?

As long as he had the time for it, and he had plenty because there was no ship to be seen, Nuvae set about answering his own questions. To begin with, he knew the name of the association his parents belonged to: the Order of the White Lotus. What it did, however, was completely beyond him. Surely something more than just play a game with fancy tiles? His father was much too industrious to waste his time with such a thing, as was his mother. It must be much larger than imaginable, he thought, seeing as he was being sent to the Northern Water Tribe on a mission. As for the message itself, Nuvae was instructed not to read it, only to give it to the Order member from the Northern Water Tribe. The final question had an obvious answer, though not necessarily the correct one, that Nuvae was chosen because both of his parents were members of the Order of the White Lotus and because he was someone his father could trust.

A speck appeared in the distance on the water, little more than a blur, but the only thing it could be was a ship. Nuvae repositioned his feet and hopped up so he could stand. Slowly, he made his to the edge of the dock. This was it, he thought to himself, the next and final leg of his trek. His work would finally pay off and then....and then what? He had not thought of what would take place after he arrived at his destination. Would he return to Omashu to protect his home? Or would he be sent some place else by the recipient of the message? Nuvae shook those concerns out of his head. There was no use questioning what could not be answered. It would be a waste.

As the ship neared, Nuvae was left to ponder what his last thought left him with: his ideals. The emphasis he put on working hard left him feeling satisfied, yet somehow incomplete. Even in the spare time allotted while waiting for transit to the Northern Water Tribe, he spent none of it idly. That was the cornerstone of his character, and that made him a man.

Well, didn't it?

Nuvae - Good job! Nice length. ACCEPTED

Display Name: Kurosu
Age: 15
Gender: Female

The gentle lull of the ship teetering back and forth on its axis did nothing to sooth him to sleep. His golden eyes stared up into the darkness, as if trying to make out the sky in this lightless cabin. His hands folded behind his head and his legs crossed, skimming on the other bunk above him. There was barely a foot separating him from the bottom of the above mattress. Two others shared the bed with him, one above and one below. Both were at least five years his senior, he was after all, the youngest person on this vessel. He was also the only person awake at this hour, beside the helmsman of course, and maybe a handful of engineers. But here in these cabins, only silence and the sound of the lapping waves accompanied him. Then...

"Midnight! All's Well!"

The call came from above, muffled by the decks, the announcer had half a brain, but had trained himself to wake up when an hour passed, and that was his only duty on board the ship. He was after all, the Captain's son, destined to special treatment aboard this boat. But the boy beneath the metal and wood breathed a greeting to the new day; he had been waiting for this hour. Today was his twelfth birthday, for him it was a day of loss. He couldn't remember when the hour of his birth was actually celebrated; it was only an estimate from when he was found. His memories ended before he had turned eight, giving him little to cherish. This was only good in the eyes of his trainer, who had benefited from this lack of memory, after all, the mind that knows nothing is the easiest to teach.

The person above him groaned and rolled in his sleep, crushing his folded legs, so he unraveled them and laid them flat on his blade thin mattress. He felt a little gratitude towards the sleeping man him for inflicting the pain needed to pry him from the silly thoughts of the past. But soon, his sleepless mind started to wander back down that road, the boredom giving him the urge to remember and not forget. His teacher was a master at the killing arts, and the boy was only taken by this mentor because of his family name, and his brother's prowess. The boy's older brother was a Yu-Yan Archer, one of the best. His was the perfect servant, the perfect military puppet, the perfect killer. Until of course, he fell in love. Love ruined him, he was soiled in the eyes of the government, but they needed someone to replace him. So why not take the younger brother of such a fine little puppet?

"One o' clock! All's Well!"

For four years his master trained him, and it would be many more before he was released from his mentors grasp, but this trip was sort of a relief for him, the boy usually only received missions within the Fire Nation. But now he was deemed loyal enough to cross the waters into foreign land. This judgment of character would be made much sooner if his brother had not come before him, for it was not only the high expectations that his brother had unknowingly set for him, but also the fallen honor was left to the younger sibling to restore. He was not trusted in place of his brother; he was punished for something his brother had done nearly a half a decade before. This brother that he had never met was the source of all his misery. But the boy could not hate someone whose face was unknown to him. Instead he hated his master, whose hand had struck him and the puppeteer pulling his master's strings-the Fire Lord.

A long sigh rose from his lips, the thoughts of the past had put him to sleep.

There was a loud voice screaming into his ear following a dreamless nightmare, "FOUR O' TWO!!! TIME TO GET UP KUROSU!" The startling voice roused him from the darkness behind his eyelids, Kurosu rolls out of bed onto the metal floor, his feet planted on the ground and his hands skimmed the dirt, keeping his balance. He gets up from this crouching position and walks out, the older man following him, shouting out the time like a chant. To escape to solitude and silence he climbs up into the metal crow’s nest, a place the older boy would never follow. At the top nothing was seen but blue, Blue Ocean, one could become filled with disgust after viewing the clear water and staring at the sparkling waves for too long. But to Kurosu, it was like a game, guessing when that wave would burst, or where a fish or creature would leap from the oceans depths and plunge down into the dark waters, disappearing. The sea was something that was never boring.

The sea...

Something, perhaps a memory stirred within him, but the rolling of a wave, it passed all too soon. Kurosu looks out over the peaking blue waters, and in to east horizon, he caught a glimpse of obsidian clouds beginning to rolling in. Kurosu gave a shout to the crew below and a buzz of activity started beneath him. But, all too soon, the squall was upon them, thunder echoing as heavy rain muted all sounds. Even with the threat of lighting breathing down his neck, he stayed were he was on his lofty metal perch. Kurosu was afraid, afraid of falling, afraid of slipping, afraid of the betrayal of the once safe rungs of the nest's ladder. He crouched with his back to the metal rails. There came a call to his ears, even through the driving rain, he heard the wretched shout, "MAN OVERBOARD!" He knew that voice; it was the voice of the time keeper, the captain's son, a voice that never lied. He picked himself up and looked out to the ocean and he saw the doomed man, flailing in the water, waving his arms frantically. There was nothing he could do from his lookout, but watch the man sink. The wind threw the boy off balance and tossing him from his slippery loft into the boiling water. He didn't resist his flight, almost as if his was willing to sink into the waters. Kurosu could feel the driving rain pelt against his skin like fiery bullets, but, for a split second it felt as if he were flying, lifted up in someone's arms. Then, the blue green water swallowed him whole.

The ocean was an unforgiving and cruel monster, this was the first time he had a taste of its fierceness. It was if this was the water's true nature, like a vicious shark craving blood. He felt himself being thrown into the metal hull of the ship by the cold waves; he gasped and sputtered out the bitter water. Kurosu looked around, clinging to the slippery metal hopelessly and saw the fallen shipmate, dead. His neck had snapped, and his head bobbled freely with the harsh waves, the pale body acted apart from the head being driven into the metal wall over and over again. After this sight the child could do little to stop the panic and fear from dominating his body, he began to claw at the iron and started to scream, but the same waves that drove him into the side of the ship drowned his weak voice encasing his throat with water. He knew that his strength would fail, his neck would snap or he would drown and he would be left to the waves, a fisherman might find his bloated body and...What? Nothing. He wouldn't know anything after that; his life would be left incomplete.

"I don't want that..."

The quiet whisper through sputtering water stoked the fire within him, "I DON'T WANT THAT I DON'T WANT THAT!” his voice filled with the bottled up hate toward the unforgiving god, toward his unknown brother, and toward the world that he had forgotten. "I DON'T WANT THAT!!!" And as if his cries were heard, a rope fell down from the heavens, like a golden cord. He grabbed onto that slick rope and began to climb; this rope was his life, his salvation. The wet rope still burned his hands and his mouth was filled with water, he could hardly breath and his chest caught fire with the lack of air. Finally, Kurosu felt his body tip onto the deck of the ship, and all at once, the exhaustion and the pain that adrenaline had warded off plummeted down on him, and his world became black before he even lay eyes on the crew that saved him.

When he woke the comforting rocking of the ship was gone, and a wooden roof confined him this time. The crew and the boat was gone, all he had was his mission and the blood that would drench his hands.

Display Name: Katsuo
Age: 18
Gender: male

Katsuo looked up at the vibrant colors of the light piercing between the foliage of the trees. He laid against a large trunk of one of the titan trees a small smile on his face. It seemed like everything was too bright making his eyes hurt from the glow. Yet there was something about it that kept him from turning away. Almost like a moth hypnotized by a dancing fire. Beckoning it to come closer and even though it knows it will be destroyed just likes it brothers it continues to move closer to the light. His sight was drawn to the golden setting of a thick forest reflecting a glow from every fallen leaf along the ground. It was quite an amazing sight to behold if you just sat there and admired it.

Katsuo stepped up trying to stand but felt no energy in his body. He pushed himself up against the tree in order to stand. He turned to wards the path ahead of him. He stepped forward feeling all his weight push him as he used his leg to keep him from falling forward. He looked carefully as a few drops of blood dotted a large yellow leaf, staining its glowing color. Katsuo touched his chest and looked at his hand; it was his blood that had dripped. Even though he knew it could be nobody else. His weak smile did not disappear though, for some reason he didn't feel upset or even the pain. He looked back at the tree trunk where he laid against a moment ago. A small pool of blood resided at the base.

Katsuo turned forward dragging his feet, feeling as though weights were tied to them. He pushed himself forward but it seemed as though he was going nowhere. A delicate smell of filled the air and kissed his face with the scent. A heavy breath left his lips as he pushed himself forward once again, feeling that something awaited him just a little further. He couldn’t tell what but he wanted to find out, the strength of his curiosity seemed to push him more and more. “Just a little further and I can rest, just a little more.” He told himself or perhaps mostly his body hoping it might help him.

The light seemed to grow stronger, the leaves that were once glimmering pieces of gold now radiated as small suns. His eyes now hurting more then ever at the powerful aurora of light. His strength soon following him causing him to fall for wards, and uplift of leaves surrounding his body. He couldn’t feel anything now,” how did I end up on the floor?” he questioned his mind seeming to dwindle between consciousnesses. His half opened eyes staring up, looking at the path that seemed the same distance it was when he first stood. His head resting on the ground, the warm area around now growing cold. His sight seemed to be giving out in a mix of colors. “I guess I won’t be keeping my promise.” Katsuo uttered as his head touched against the ground.

Kuroso - Good job. I liked the length in your post and the detail you gave us. I would like to point out, though, that we prefer if you do not use other characters in these posts, but since it's so minor in your post and your post makes sense if it's taken out, then I'm going to overlook it. Good job. ACCEPTED

Katsuo - Very interesting. It's different and I like that. The post is good, and you do a good job of the internal things required, and the length is not bad at all. I would like to point out that feel free to expand more, but all in all, it's a good job. ACCEPTED

Display Name:[/b] Rumi Lee
Age:[/b] Eighteen
Gender:[/b] Female

The early morning light loomed over the distant mountains of the eastern horizon, marking the start of the day. The early morning rays slowly reached over the land, sharing its light and warmth with all. One particular individual, however, had already been awake to witness the morning beauty of the giant ball of light. It was likely that this very same person would still be awake to see the sun disappear at the end of the day. This person was Rumi Lee of the Foggy Swamp Tribe, though she was a long way from home.

As the light reached where Rumi was standing, her body was encased in a blanket of warmth kindly provided by the sun. Rumi, however, felt no feelings of gratitude. It certainly was a beautiful day, hardly a cloud in sight, but Rumi learned long ago that even on a beautiful day like this, bad things can happen. Foolish are those who believe good weather brings good fortune, or so Rumi thinks anyways. Since when has the weather stopped wars, blood shed and death? Never.

A flood of spiteful thoughts suddenly rushed through the young woman’s mind. Once again she had become distracted with events of the past. No matter what she did, there was always something that brought her mind back to that day. The day Rumi describes as the worst day of her life. Today Rumi had intended on getting in some good training time and had decided to start before the sun had awoken. Rumi was currently standing in a rather stiff pose, though she held a sense of grace about her. Her right arm was pointed out diagonally upwards while her left arm was directed perfectly horizontal from her body. Her head was turned to face the direction of her left arm. Rumi then shifted her right arm in a rather stiff circular motion until is ran parallel to her left arm, from there her right arm took its original position. As the arm took its beginning place, Rumi’s head turned to face forwards.

The weather means nothing. Her eyebrow twitched in frustration. How could anyone rely on the…

“That’s it!” Rumi snapped and threw down her arms. Training was over for now. Trying to relax, the young woman took a spot on the ground. In her no longer concentrated state, however, her distractive thoughts were able to come a lot more freely. Sure enough, it was like a tap had been turned on. The memories came back to Rumi of that day and soon she found herself in a day dream.

The day began much like that of today, the sun was high in sky in all its wondrous glory. Its rays trickled down through the canopy of the Foggy Swamp, creating a beautiful display of beams of light extending until they hit the swamp floor. The beauty of this day, however, did not last long as Rumi remembered the thunderous noise of the tanks approaching the homes of the village people. Fire Nation. The tribe had seen raids of fire nation troops enter the swamp before, but never had there been such a sound. The little army the tribe had quickly gathered to defend the swamp and the ones they loved. Rumi was the only female in the army and she fought along side her father, brother and Xi, her dearest friend.

The battle was horrific and so fast paced that Rumi barely remembers any of it even happening. During the battle, Rumi had been doing so many things that she barely had time to think, everything she did was more a reaction. There is something, however, which Rumi remembers clearly. The death of Xi.

The tribe defensive forces hadn’t been having too much trouble holding off the soldiers during the battle, until the tanks arrived anyways. The tribe had no idea how to deal with the hideous metal vehicles and were certainly starting to lose because of it. A couple of tribe members elected to go to the tanks themselves and kill whoever was operating them. Xi was one of them. Rumi watched as Xi ran off towards the tank. He had made it to the top of the machine successfully, but when he tried to open the hatch a blast of fire shot out from the top, hitting Xi across the torso. Xi’s body flew backwards from the tank, his limp body hitting the ground hard. On impact with the ground, Xi’s head collided with a rock, causing his death. What happened directly after this Rumi has no memory of. It wasn’t until the battle was over that Rumi’s chain of memories link up. Her father told her that she went psychotic seeing Xi die.

Something else then flashed into Rumi’s mind. The image of the battle field from the first memory she has after Xi’s death. Fire Nation soldiers hung from the top of the trees like ornaments in a Christmas tree. Vines held up their limp bodies from their throats. They were all dead. The tanks had been crushed, almost flattened by fallen trees. It was apparently Rumi who had done all of that, but she held no memory of it.

The sound of a bird chirping in a close by tree brought Rumi back to reality. She was thankful to the little bird and a smile crept onto her face as she looked over at it. The smile on her lips was mismatched from the glisten of tears in her eyes. Rumi hated thinking about that day, though there wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t.