Chatterbox: Inkwell

So...new RP! You can be one of the characters I've already made up, or create your own super awesome charrie. =)

My charrie...

Name: Wren

Age: 14 of her species' years...in human years she's 49. O.o

Species: ? (I haven't come up with a name for them yet so if you have ideas go for it) =)

Appearance: black hair, red reptile-ish eyes, and grey skin...her kind all have different shades of grey skin, the same as how humans have varying shades of pink/brown. The equivalent of African would be the darkest shade of grey, while Caucasian (or "white") would be a vary pale grey. They all have black-ish hair, but their eyes can literally be any color of the rainbow. (Any changes you want to make to this is fine, just tell me first so there is no confusion.)

Personality: logical, contemplative, but will act rashly if you make her angry. Kind to her people but hates humans (& w/ good reason)

Here's the beginning of the story, feel free to continue it however you see fit: =)

“I hate this place.” Fern mumbles angrily from two places forward as we shuffle toward the front of the line.

“What else is new?” Says Orin sarcastically under his breath. Raven and I, who are both behind him, snicker quietly, but we fall silent when a Keeper marches by. I step forward with everyone else, and Raven mutters something so quietly that I only catch one word. Escape.

Quickly, before any of the Keepers can see me, I move my hands behind my back, where Raven can see them. I use our special hand language to sign a message. You’re crazy. I hear him laugh, then swift footsteps come from behind us. A Keeper leans over me and my friend, eyes narrowed.

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly. I look at the ground and stay silent, bending my head so far forward that my chin touches the high-tech metal cuff around my neck.  A cuff that we invented. The Keeper growls irritably before stalking away from us.

Fern reaches the front of the line and takes a plate of food from the Keeper handing out our dinners. She then walks silently to an almost empty table and sits down, all the while being watched by multiple Keepers from across the room. Orin comes close behind her. Then I step forward and take a light metal plate from the Keeper. On it is a small portion of cold looking mashed potatoes, an unbuttered piece of bread, and a tiny slice of meat that looks like it’s been left out for much too long.

I stare at my reflection in the scratched metal. My grey skin has turned almost ghostly pale during my many months here. My red reptilian eyes look defeated and depressed, as if they’ve never seen happiness. My black hair, which my mother once stuck colorful flowers in when I was young, is now stringy and knotted. I sigh sadly and look up, away from the wretched girl staring up at me.

I sit next to Fern, with Orin and Raven across from us. Once everyone has sat down, the population of our table also includes Wilder, Sage, Brooke, Olive, Kale, and Cedar, plus two other kids I don’t know. We eat in silence, but between bites most of us sign to each other. Mostly jokes about the Keepers and things like that, but there are also a few comments about more serious topics, like escaping, or trying to use our powers against the Keepers.

At one point Wilder actually tries to make a flame, and his collar gives him a small electric shock. He swears under his breath, and Kale laughs at him. Wilder scowls at the other boy, but Kale’s laugh is infectious, and soon we’re all giggling. That is, until the Keepers come over to shush us, at which point we stop abruptly to avoid a beating.

Then one of them says something that makes my blood boil.

“Stupid aliens.”

I leap up angrily, intent on slapping the Keeper in front of me silly. Our kind gave the humans incredible technology, space travel, amazing scientific knowledge, and they repaid us by locking us up, intent on killing us all off.

“Wren, stop!” Sage says nervously. I glance back at her worried face, then turn to face the Keepers again. Saying nothing, I glare at them until a bit of the smugness fades from their expressions. Then I sit back down and continue to eat my dinner. I can hear the Keepers’ footsteps as they walk away. My initial anger starts to turn into sadness, and by the time me and the other girls are separated from the boys and escorted back to our bunk room, I’m ready to cry my eyes out. Brooke puts a comforting hand on my back, and I smile gratefully at her.

“I hate them!” Fern voices what we’re all thinking. “I hate them all!”

“So does everyone else in this mud hole.” Olive snaps. “But it doesn’t matter. It will never matter until someone does something about it.”

“But we can’t.” I say dejectedly, laying down on my bunk. The other girls follow suit, and we fall asleep quickly without anything to occupy our minds.

When I awake, the morning bell is just starting to ring, and I stand and go to make my bed. I don’t get very far, however, because a Keeper bursts in, his high pitched whistle screaming through the air. I snap to attention, arms at my sides, as one by one the other girls in our bunk wakes up and crawls groggily out of bed to do the same. The whistle blows again, and I clench my teeth at the horrible noise.

“Wren Vindolen?” the Keeper asks in a gruff voice. Nervous, I step forward, and his eyes land on me immediately. “The General wants you.”