Name: Rianne Mira

Age: 14

Appearance: Black hair, brown eyes. Wears a tunic and leggings, plus very worn-out boots. Carries around a canvas backpack with sewing kit, food, firewood, and a small leather canteen for water.

Power: She's a plant mage who normally can make plants grow fast and sense thing as plants can (e.g., if an army is riding over a meadow, she can sense them through the grass). However, she's limited, so if she's next to a plant, she acts like fertilizer (it grows faster, but not a lot. Its growing time might be reduced by a few days.) or sense if plants are there (find food). 

Name: Joseph Dexton

Age: 13

Appearance: He always wears a beaten up jacket and pants. He has messy black hair and green eyes.

Power: He has an uncanny navigation skills. He seems to 'feel' where he is supposed to go. 

I'm going to start rping if thats okay, if not, VOOOIIIDDD

********* 

I was talking with one of the other girls my age when she asked this question, "Do you think Weltrin is cute? He even has abbs." (Just had to do that :P) 

I was taken by suprise, but managed not to say what was in my head, and instead said, "According to you, every single boy your age is cute, and I have abbs." Just as I finished he walked around the corner of the street, in his so...fancy..boots. The other girl skittered off but I offered a smile and a wave, he walked over and smiled back. I looked at his boots. "I do so love your boots." 

Weltrin laughed and I looked back at him, grinning foolishly. Between laughs he said, "I think that's the two-hunded-twentieth time you've told me."

"One-hundered-twentieth," I replied with my goofy grin. 

He stopped laughing and just grinned, obviously mimicing mine, "I'll see you around the Ryia."

"Yup! Now shoo," I gave him a friendly push and he faked almost falling, then managing to catch himself. I laughed and hurried off to Rivana's hut, she said she would go fishing with me today.  

@noell I may have messed up big time... Is your chat a girl or boy? If it's a girl then void my last thingamagiger.

~Niska~

I yawned slowly, stretching and rubbing my eyes as I sat up. It was late morning, late enough that all the other prisoners were probably up. I looked around my hut. I had a bed made of a threadbare piece of linen sewed with twine around leaves and moss, a pit with some charred wood where I made a fire, several baskets, and a table. One of the baskets held food (right now it only a had a few strips of meat and a mango), and the others had stuff I hoarded. Some things I found - seashells, wire, glass worn smooth by the waves, kelp or vines I had dried and twisted into twine, flower petals I had pressed so they would never age. Some things I stole - a needle from Rianne's sewing kit, one of Ryia's hair bands, one of the feathers from Lyssyra's dress, a shoe-tie from Weltrin's shoes, lint I stole from the pockets of all with coats.  On the table I have a glass bottle, a beautiful unbroken glass bottle the sea carried up to me. Next to it is a long wire. Beside that is another bottle, this on cracked only a little, at the neck of the bottle. The second bottle has a piece of parchment, a nice big piece of parchment with a little help message at the top. From one of the other prisoners, I'm sure, a inexperinced prisoner who didn't know about the electirc fence. The parchment is soaked and the bit of writing at the top is blurred, but when it's dried it will be a wonderful adition to my hoard. Also on the table is a nub of soap I made from animal fat I stole from Weltrin's fire pit and fermented seaweed. I pick it up and walk out of my hut. My hut is in a secluded place far from the other huts, a pretty little clearing they don't know about with a rocky outcropping that provides shade on hot days, a hot spring, and a patch of rich soil where I'm trying to grow mushrooms. The mushrooms are rather small and are growing slowly, but I bring them clean water every day and I know someday they will be big enough to eat. I take off my clothes and bathe in the hot pool, washing my hair and body with the soap, then step out and put on my clothes. I shake, wring my hair out with my hands, glad it's so short, and then walk back to my hut. I put back the nub of soap and grab the unbroken bottle and the food basket. I stop by the clearing and fill my bottle with spring water, then drizzle it on my mushrooms. I refill it again and proceed into the jungle. Walking through the jungle, I look around for berries, fruits, wild hogs, anything I can eat. I find some nuts on the ground and put them in my basket. I find a wild tangle of blackberries and carefully slip into it, plucking blackberries here and there and then slipping back out again. I put the blackberries in the food basket. Looking around some more, I see that there is a band of monkeys high in the trees, where I can't climb. They have a hoard of mangos and are staring at me, knowing I will try to get them. I concentrate on nothingness for as long as I can. I can hear them twittering to each other, then finally giving up and going back to picking off each other's nits. My concentration is failing so I let it go and screech at them. They yelp in suprise, several dropping their fruits. I race to grab them, then, laughing, walk off farther into the jungle. Looking around for more food, I see a patch of wild carrots. I pull on them, but the stubborn carrots are firmly in the ground and only one small carrot comes up. Sighing, I move on. After walking awhile, I find a nest with ovular brown eggs- chicken eggs! I pick up half of them, because I want some to hatch, I want more wild chickens. Just as I put them into my basket, the chicken comes. She looks at the nest, then at me and the eggs, and starts sqwuaking angrily. I hurriedly walk off, concentrating on nothingness. My invisiblity breaks several times as I walk off, but she doesn't notice, she's too busy clucking over her remaining eggs. I look around some more, but I can't find any more food, and besides, it's getting hot. I walk back to my hut and put my basket back down. Opening it up, I find that one of my eggs has a crack in it. Cursing myself for my carelessness, I take the parchment out the broken bottle and crack the egg into it. I take some twigs and some of the lint I snitched and put them down in the fire pit, on top of the other firewood. I rub two sticks together and lit the lint. As the fire grows, I carefully place the bottle in the center of the firepit, where there is a flat rock just for this purpose. As the egg cooks, I lay back and take a nap.

  I knock on the door of Rivana's hut...no answer. "Dang it...she's probably still sleeping, Oh well."  I turn on my heels and head toward my favorite spot on the shore. 

I see some smoke coming from a distant area among the trees and decide to investigate. After a short walk I stumble upon a small hut. I see a small fireplace, with a fire, and next to it a napping girl. "Niska?" I whisper, then realize she probably doesn't want this to be found, so I follow my footprints back to the beach. After another short hike, I make it to a large rock, surrounded by a shallow water. I take a couple steps back, then run and jump. I hit the rock, but my hands had already known where to grab. With that I scurry up a couple inches to the top. I pull myself up and lean back on my hands, staring out at the beautiful ocean. I sigh and watch the waves longingly. After a while I reajust myself and take my braid out. The cool ocean breeze blows it behind me and I smile. My coat ruffles a bit too. I stare out to sea, longing, longing for everything...everything but this. I sigh and watch the waves, picturing a massive boat...my boat, my father's boat. The breeze cools me from the ever-rising sun and the slowly-building heat, but I still stare. 

Awesome characters, guys!

Here's mine;

Name; Prisoner 93, Coral Abbot

Age; 14

Appearance; Sandy blond hair a little lower than her chin, grey-blue eyes. Tall. 

Power; Telekinesis. She could move very large objects with her mind before, but with the spell, she can only move some of the smallest; for example; moving a glass of water a few inches to fall off the edge of a table would be the biggest feat she could accomplish.  

______

~Coral~

The water is very cool. Spreading like small fingers of ice down my back, through my hair. Removing the half-cooked quality of my skin, if only for a little while. Easing the burning of my cheeks and arms and legs, from the harsh sun that beats down without mercy upon this little island of ours.

People say I spend too much time in the water. That I think that if I soak for long enough, I'll dissolve and float away.

I make a point of my arms, before pushing them back again, hands cutting through the water, and paddle with my feet, propelling myself deeper into the sea. The sunlight filters down, illuminating the azure waters with visible, individual rays. As I go deeper, the light penetrates less, but only slightly, leaving everything a darker, deeper blue, but still  plenty bright enough to see by. 

The salty waters sting my numerous cuts, more notably a nasty scrape on my knee from a sharp rock that had been concealed by a clump of seaweed, last time I ventured. My eyes sting too, but I must keep them open. 

Finally, I reach the ocean floor. This is shallow water. The loose sand disrupts, causing a large beige cloud to materialize, obstructing my vision for a while. After that, I move very slowly, each footstep light as a feather. My gaze is trained very sharply on the sandy ground. My eyes sting with that peculiar sensation of dryness and wetness at the same time, yet I stretch out every time between blinking that I possibly can. 

After about twenty or thirty seconds of looking, a small clump of what almost looks like grey, oddly shaped rocks appear in my field of vision. My heart quickens. I must move slowly or the sand clouds with blind me for a while, using up valuable seconds of air. At last, after a few, painfully slow steps I am close enough. I pick up each Oyster one by one, and carefully place them in a sack made of rough fabric tied around my waist. There are only about ten in this Oyster-bed, which is a relatively small find, but every single bite of meat is valuable. 

My lungs are burning, but I force myself to remain where I stand. Every time I dive, I try to build my tolerance a little, and every time I dive, I can stay down a little longer.  

Finally I judge that it would be unwise to wait further. My heart is beating feverishly,  and my vision is blurring ever-so-slightly. I kick of from where I'm standing, and swim upwards toward the sun.

I surface, the sounds of water splashing and birds crying fill my ears. The heat of the sun warms my cool flesh too quickly. I gasp desperately, chest heaving, filling my lungs with precious air. After satisfying my lungs, I begin swimming back towards shore with the skillful strokes of one who has made the same trip a thousand times. Once I reach shallower waters, I wade until I reach dry land.

My feet burn as they travel across the rough sand, and I begin running to reach shade, to save them from permanent damage. My eyes are still cloudy from the water, and perception skewed from transferring from the slow, thick environment of the sea to the thin, clumsy one of earth. As I jog across the sand, my foot hits something hard and sharp, sending me tumbling to the ground. 

Stunned, I sit for a moment, then register the dull but significant pain in my foot. Turning it, I see that my biggest toe has had a strip of flesh separated from the whole, not a horrible injury, but one large enough to bring blood and the threat of tears. 

I shake my head, clearing it, and force a smile, imagining what I looked like as I fell. Soon enough I begin to wonder what it was I tripped on. I rise, and wince. The pain in my foot, which I'd almost forgotten, flared higher than I had expected. I walk with careful steps across the sun-baked sand, feeling sunburn actively overtaking the skin on the back of my neck. When I reach the spot where I judged the item to be, I slowly ease myself to my hands and knees, and look around.

I found the culprit soon enough; a conch shell, a large one, half-buried in sand. With long, tired fingers, I removed it from it's predicament. Dusting it off, I noticed, impressed, that it was much bigger than I thought. My hand could hardly grasp it safely. It was a beautiful golden-brown, it's spikes curling into a spiral, smaller and smaller until it reached the point. The inside was a stunning pink-white, smooth and un-marred.

Surprisingly, my accidental kick had failed to mark it in any noticeable way. It was a beautiful piece.

Carefully placing it in the sack along with the oysters I had collected, I made my way back to my home.

________

It's very small, as far as dwellings go. I built it of sun-baked mud bricks, made with a decent amount of effort. I added a roof of branches, harvested from the jungle portion of the island. It has no door, only a bit of cloth I traded a couple small fish for. 

The inside is even less luxurious. A mound of dry grass covered with another scrap of fabric accounts for my bed, while my pillow is a slightly more prominent lump of dry grass. I have no blanket. 

Next to my makeshift bed, I had made a small collection of shelves by sticking bits of mud against the walls. On each of these shelves are an array of stone tools. About ten arrowheads of varying size and quality take up most of the space on the top shelf. On the middle one, I have a knife I created from flint, a large, blunt stone that fit my hand well resides next to it, it's purpose grinding, and a narrow bit of wood carved into a small spear, hardened by being held over the fire. On the bottom shelf was only one item. A small pouch of animal skin, with a drawstring of twine tying it shut.  

I had sworn to myself long ago that I wouldn't keep anything for sentimental value that couldn't fit in that pouch, or more than what could fill it. What I treasured could be hidden easily, and if it was taken it wouldn't be too detrimental to me. After what happened to Mother, I made this vow.

Her fate would not befall me. 

The surroundings of my home are pretty enough. It's close to the beach, because I spend most of my time there, but it's also in a small clearing in the center of a patch of Coconut Palms. The jungle is not far behind it, the beach not far ahead of it. It's close enough and far enough from any groups of people, and I have plenty of shade and comfort, as well as a source of spring water within walking distance, though the oasis is popular with others, and I often run into them. 

I duck past the flap of fabric and enter my hut. With one short stride I'm close enough to reach the mud shelves without bending too far down. I grasp my small flint knife, and exit as swiftly as I entered.

Just outside is a firepit, with a large, flat stone in the center. A few logs remain from last night's fire; enough for today. Settling down on a log nearby, I detach my bag from  around my waist. Unloading it's contents I count the spoils of my three dives. Thirty clams, and six small crabs.

With mild surprise, I remember the shell I found, just as my fingers grasp it, and I wonder what it's fate will be. It would make more than decent trading. But somehow, I'm hesitant to part with it. It so beautiful, the idea of selling it for a bit of soap or meat seems almost disrespectful.

Setting the matter aside mentally, I grasp one of the oysters I gathered and inspect it. It's shut tightly, which is good. Alining the blade of the knife with the split between the two shells, I wedged the weapon in with a crack. The two shells split apart, revealing the grey-brown flesh inside. I scooped this out with the tip of my knife, and placed it into a nearby bowl I had made of one half of a hollowed coconut.

And so the process began. There's something comforting about monotonous work, in a life where nothing is certain. It lends a bit of order to the whole thing. Something simple like shucking shellfish could almost make one happy.

One after the other, one after the other  . . .  until I open about the eleventh one, in the center of which, rested a small, dainty pearl.

Inspecting it excitedly, I find that it has a slight pink cast, as if you were viewing it through colored glass. It isn't perfectly round, but it's close. I run inside my hut, and quickly place it in the animal skin pouch after wiping it clean on the hem of my shirt.  I return, sit again, and begin once more to work at opening the oysters, but looking closely at each one, should a pearl be hiding anywhere.

After I successfully make my way through the entire pile, I grab two sticks and make a fire quickly, as I have a million times before. As the rock heats, I lay the meat on carefully, cooking it as slowly as I can so as not to burn it.

Grabbing another one of my coconut-bowls, I slide the food in, and eat quickly, trying not to burn my fingers. When my meal is done, I wipe my hands on my pants, and lean against a nearby tree, gazing out at the horizon. 

The sky is a beautiful muddle of vibrant oranges, deep reds, delicate pinks and fading purples, almost nowhere could blue be seen, only at the very edge. In the very center, the bright half-circle of the sun still illuminates the island, but light is fading quickly.

The meal was unseasoned, but still salty, and that along with the day out at sea resulted in my throat being terribly dry. My face was hot and pink from the brutal midday sun, and a bath at the spring and a good drink of water sounded pleasant beyond words, so I picked up a small carved wood bucket, and made of the direction of the oasis. Something made me pause and pick up the shell before leaving. Someone might be willing to trade.  

Name: Prisoner 403; Lupin Birsen (newest)

 Age: 17

Appearance: long beautiful auburn hair, dark green eyes, thin eyebrows, tall

Power: She can shoot anything with an arrow, space not a problem.

~Emi~

I sigh when I see my hut. It is near the beach, on the sand, made out of palm leaves. It is soaked and the sea has dragged out most of the walls. Feeling an idiot, I gather the palm leaves and pick up my little pouch, then go into the jungle, looking around for a tree I could build a house on. All of the jungle trees are too high, and what would I build my house on? Then I see a tall tree with a huge bunch of roots that stick out of the ground. I can hear water somewhere close. It's perfect! I head to the water and find that it is a pool of dirty, muddy water, full of debre. Wires, thick grass interweave in the water like a . . . screen. I should build a screen to filter the water! And . . . I can use the mud and palm leaves to build my house! 

I pile mud on the big leaves that fall from the trees around me and carry the muddy leaves over to the roots of the tree. Then I fashion the mud into bricks as best I can. I make five bricks when the mud runs out, so I go back to the pond and gather more mud. I sit back down and make six more bricks, then I have to go back for more mud. I repeat this nine more times. By the tenth time, my back is aching and my hands, shirt and hair are muddy. My mouth is dry and I'm panting. But I don't stop. I haul another batch of mud and make another batch of bricks, then count my stack of bricks. I have 63 bricks- that isn't nearly enough, but I decide to start anyways. I make a line of bricks between two bundles of roots and, fetching more mud, use mud as motar to stick them together. Then I spread mud along the top and pile more bricks. I repeat this over and over again until the space is filled in. Then I coat palm leaves with mud and stick them onto the inside and outside of the wall. Then I spread mud over the palm leaves. It looks good and sturdy, but I need more palm leaves and more mud.

After fetching more palm leaves and more mud, I  examine the next space between roots. This one is smaller, with dangling roots. I weaves the roots together and build the brick wall around the woven roots, then fill in the roots with more mud. Then I add the palm leaves and spread mud over that.

My stomach growls loudly, but I am detirmined to finish the dwelling before nightfall. I build another wall and then find that I don't have enough bricks for the next wall, so I fetch more mud and make more bricks. Then I discover my mud is dried, so I fetch more mud. I build two more walls. My back aches and my stomach grumbles, so I stop for a break. There are two more spaces, one just shorter than me, the other quite small. I decide to use the bigger one as a door, and fill in the smaller one as best I can. I realize I am short by about four bricks, so I decide to leave them out and have the empty space be a window. My stomach roaring, I fetch two sticks and brace them againest the top and bottom so no monkeys or theives can come in. Then I realize the foolishness of that, considering I don't have a door, so I take them out. I scrape at the ground until I can pass through the 'doorway'. My stomach is roaring like a tornado, so I around, hoping there is some kind of food nearby. I see a few nuts on the ground, so I pick them up and pry them open with my fingers. I gobble the nut meat, but it doesn't even take the edge off my hunger. I go to the pond and try to catch a fish, but they move too fast. I do, however, find some fish eggs. I quickly eat them and then, searching around some more, see something that takes my breath away- a mango, a huge mango, just lying there. I grab it and devour it. It takes away most of my hunger, leaving a quite bearable quiet growl. Hunger satisfied, I gather leaves and moss to make a bed. I pile the big, fresh leaves on the ground and then put the soft moss on top. I try laying on it. It is rather comfortable, actually, especially compared to the hard ground. Laying on the bed still, I open the pouch. I pull out the rusted pendant with the opal in the center that was my mother's, the two metal hair-pins, the small silver pen, the grubby red ribbon my little sister wore on the day she died. 

~Niska~

Running, running, running, the pretty necklace with the red stone clutched tightly. Guards chasing after me, staring at me, even though I am invisible. They must have some kind of protection againest illusions, but why for such a trinket? I turn a corner to find gaurds coming from that way, too. They sorround me, shove me to the ground. "You would dare to steal the Amulet Of Aziki??" The gaurd growls. The Amulet Of Aziki!? is my last thought before I pass out.  

I wake up to see that the egg is well-cooked. I use my fingers to scrape it out and I put the slippery bits of egg into my mouth. I chew the still-warm egg, then wipe my fingers on my pants and pick up the other five eggs. I tap the shells. The shells are hard, so I put the five eggs in the dying embers of the fire. I pick up a leaf and the blackberries and walk outside. I spread the blackberries out on the leaf where they will dry so I can keep them for a long time. I count the mangos and find that there ar four. One I can eat for dinner with the strips of meat, one I can eat for tommorrow's breakfast with an egg, one I can eat for tommorrow's lunch with an egg, one I can eat for tommorrow's lunch dinner with an egg, and I can eat the berries and an egg for breakfast on day after tommorrow. I grin. I have enough food that tommorrow I will have plenty of time to do my favorite hobby- collecting. 

I finally wake from my daze and hop off the rock, landing softly on on the damp sand, quickly taking a jump forward to avoid a wave. After a short hike I make it back to my hut. It's rather large, but the cool thing is its in a tree. The largest tree I could find. It branches spread across the nearby trees as it towers above them. I stare at it, it never ceases to amaze me. After a couple brief moments I scurry up the wide trunk, my hands and feet following an invisible path. I make it to the first platform, and pull myself up. I take the bridge to the right and head toward my small-but-larger-than-most-wooden-hut. I pull aside the curtain of an arrangment of blue bead strings and smile at the familiar sight. There is a fireplace, unused, and on the mantel a small boat model. There is a small table and a chair with a mermaid on the back of it. Seashells are everywhere, along with hardened coral. I sigh and plop down on my bed, large leaves...LARGE, on top if dried seaweed. My stomach growls and I reach for a bowl of nuts on the nearby table.  I grab a couple and crack them open, savoring the crunchy insides. After I finish half the bowl I slowly lie down on my mattress, using my arms as a pillow. I sigh and think about the sea, the salty smell of my cabin comforting me. Just as I enter dream land, my thoughts enter to the pirate boots, and their owner.

Nenya~

I sit up, yawning and squinting as I try to shake off the lazy feeling of sleep. I stand up and fumble my way through the darkness to the small pool I found. There I carefully wash, comb, and rebraid my hair. There. Now I'm awake.

I walk up and grab my tools: a stone hunting knife, a pouch, and a rope. Then I push through the vines that block the enterance to my cave and set off.

My cave is in a forest, not too far in that the entrance is out of sight, but far enough so no one can see it. But I can see them.

I carefully leap up into a tree and creep along it until I see the treat awaiting me: apples. One a day, I must limit myself, but it's time now. I jump up and grasp the red oval fruit and slice it with my hunting knife, rationing it for the day.

I tuck the other two chunks in my pouch and munch on the apple as I scout the forest below me. I strain my ears and eyes until I see something dart across the clearing. With practiced skill, I launch myself from the tree and land on my feet, unhurt, and throw my knife.

It misses. The animal runs squealing into the brush.

"Oh, no you don't!" I yell at it. I tear into the brush with it and after about ten minutes tackle it sucessfully. One bite to the neck silences it for good.

Crude, I know. But what can I do? Here, you have to do anything to survive.

I drag the animal, which turns out to be a wild piglet, back to the cave with me. I light the fire and spear the pig on my roasting stick.

As I watch the fire, I think I see something. Something in there is stirring.

I blink and ruub my eyes. Nope, it isn't there anymore.

Trick of the fire, I think to myself, and I tear off a piece of meat. But I can't help remembering how real it looked....