The Game. (3 people if possible.)

OOC: This is what I get from reading Battle Royale and watching the movie...

BIC:TDC munched on a corn muffin, a rare treat. This had been a lucky day for the young demon. For once somebody actually gave the homeless boy food.

The woman who had given the food to him smiled because of her good deed of the day and walked off. TDC quickly finished up the muffin.

Arezo, as this town was called, seemed to be a very small town. There were barely any people travelling the streets and what people there were turned out to be nicer than most others are.

He settled down next to an inn to sleep. His thoughts were revolving around whether he should stay in this nice town for another day or continue his search for Gorin.

“What are you doing boy?” came a deep voice. TDC turned to see that a burly man was standing at the entrance to the inn.

His hair was combed to perfection, even his mustache seemed to be in perfect order. The man’s charcoal eyes were fixed on the homeless boy sitting with his back against the inn.

“I’m sorry sir,” began TDC. He had gone through this all too frequently. He’d settle down next to a shop or inn and the owner would come out and yell at him to go away.

“For what?” the man cut the boy off. “A child like you shouldn’t be sleeping in the street.”

The large man opened the door and gestured for TDC to go on in. Despite the fact that this man’s eyes frightened him, the young hybrid quickly entered. It was beginning to rain anyway.

The man reached for TDC. Having been beaten by strangers before, the hybrid shied away from the man. The imposing figure chuckled.

“What’s your name boy? My name is Thorm, and I was just reaching out to shake your hand.” He winked at TDC with a face that suddenly reminded the young child of the legend of Santa Claus.

“Kid’s fine, I don’t have a name.” The hybrid heard a sudden crack and spun around. He sighed with relief when he realized the crack was from the fireplace, which currently had a calming fire in it.

“Well,” said Thorm. “I’ll be right back with a nice meal for you. Make yourself comfortable.” The burly man left the small room and headed off in what could be seen as a random direction.

TDC sat down in a chair by the fireplace. The fire reminded him of Kawaii, who was afraid of flames for some reason. “There I go again, thinking about her…”

During his last meeting with the girl TDC had realized that he felt differently about her than he did with most other people. He couldn’t hurt her, and he even seemed to care about her for some reason.

Thorm’s deep voice suddenly shattered the silence. He was happily shouting something in a language TDC didn’t understand, waltzing in with a plate of steak.

The hybrid nearly jumped out of his chair as the burly man came running over. He half expected Thorm to knock him into the fireplace.

The large man laughed and thrust the plate towards TDC. Much to the boy’s surprise, he was nearly knocked over by the man’s overly excited pass of food.

For most boys that wouldn’t seem too surprising considering the difference in size, with Thorm being nearly eight feet tall. The reason it was strange was because of the hybrid’s own strength, as there had been times where he proved to be stronger than people bigger than Thorm.
“I hope you like it boy,” said Thorm. Unfortunately, TDC didn’t hear what the large man muttered to himself. “It’s the best meal you’ll get for the next few days, possibly your life.”

The son of Gorin took a bite of the steak and smiled. It was the best food he’d ever had, at least compared to the garbage he was usually made to eat in order to survive.

Thorm explained that it was prime rib while TDC continued to gorge himself. If he had known anything about cooking he would have realized that a perfectly cooked steak takes more than two minutes to make.

He suddenly began to feel weak. His muscles were shutting down, for some reason deciding not to answer the brain’s signals to move.

The young hybrid collapsed on the floor as Thorm stood over him, smiling.

“The game begins child, the game begins…”

OOC: End your posts with your character somehow becoming unconscious, whether they are attacked from behind or poisoned. After three people join I’ll post with Thorm explaining the “game” to everyone.

Only join if you will be in it for the long haul, as it’s expected to be a pretty long RP.

OOC: I am reserving a spot. I will make a post later.

Irva walked calmly down the cobbled street, her thick hide slippers making any noise, a characteristic common to most people as they meander through the streets. Maybe it was because of her extreme training as and assassin, or perhaps her extreme natural grace, an inherited trait from her Sheikhan father. Which ever of the two, that little habit saved her a lot of trouble through the years. But no matter how quietly she walked, men always stared at her. She didn't mind it, but it on occasion became annoying. She guessed it was a down fall of being a Gerudo. The way her mocha skin gleamed in the midday sun, was very appealing. As well was her gracious curves that were hardly obscured by the slim fitting black dress she wore, it most likely added even more attractiveness. The way that the dress revealed her smooth back and did not cover all of her breasts with the flowing neckline, add in the ruffled skirt and she was in any man’s dream.

Casually strolling through the market place as she was doing now often caused much commotion. Males, no matter what the species would stop in their tracks to give a lingering look at the assassin. And this was how it was. A few market vendors offered her samples of their finest products, but she declined, for one never knew what could be in them or on them. With a polite smile she always passed them, shaking her strawberry blond curls, and waving a slender steel ring covered arm in their direction to passe back into the general public.

Today however, the market place was wearing thin on her and she decided she was going to leave. Carefully the Sheikah danced through the congested square, to come to a little dark ally. A wide smile spread across her face as she recognized the way, the familiar red clay pot outside of a door and the intricate murals painted on the walls, it was the way to her apartment. Hop stepping through the small alley and dancing with her chain mail scarf, she began her way to her temporary home. She just passed a painting of a bumblebee astride a flower, a buzzing sound echoed through the enclosed space and a sharp prick stung Irva in the back of the neck. With tentative hands she reached back and pulled the object out, a dart. A drop of clear venom mingled with her blood hung on the tip of the iron needle and a similar stream ran to the yellow wooden rod with a red feather it was affixed on. The assassin broke it her hand and threw it to the ground. Then a woozy feeling overcame her senses.

“Ah ****,” she whispered as she wilted to the dusty ground to land in a heap and blacked out.

Ooc: I am finally using Twilight, who was last used.......*Counts* 1 month ago!

Bic:Twilight was in a town called Arezo. She looked to the morning sky as the sun lighted all land. Twilight quickly put a black robe on with the hood hiding her face. She treated the light like it would burn her face.

"Hullo" cheered a young girl, prancing in the light. The girl looked cheerful and happy.

"Hi" said Twilight in a sweet, inoccent voice. The girl skipped away into the town into an inn. Twilight walked slowly into the town. Everybody was.....friendly and cheerful. This is the creepiest town I've ever been to thought Twilight. Soon it began to rain and everybody ran into their houses. All except that girl she saw when she entered the town, who was in a thick coat.

"Heh, even these happy towns have felons" Twilight muttered. There were many people on a town board for murder. Do I blame them she thought, remembering the happy yet creepy townspeople. Then in the largest picture there was her, yet a bad picture of her.

"Figures......" muttered Twilight. She had never been in this town before.

"Hullo, what are you doing in the rain?" The little girl said, who was standing next to her.

"Umm......why do you care?" Twilight said, saying 'care' like it was poison.

The girl giggled and said, "Come, I'll let you stay in my house".

"No, I-" Twilight protested, but found she was being nearly dragged by the girl. Soon they were in a nice, quiet house.

"Here is some food" the girl said, giving her some bread.

"No, I am not that hungry" Twilight said, which was true.

"Let me take off your robe, uh....thing" The girl seemed dissapointed when she put away the food. When Twilight took in a breath to speak, the girl took off her robe. The girl seemed to not know the face of Twilight on the town board. All of a sudden the girl's stomach growled.

"Go eat that bread you are hung-"

"NO" The girl blurted out. Then she seemed to catch herelf and say, "I don't like bread".

"You are hiding someti-" Twilight started. A sharp pain hit her.

All went dark.

OoC: I am also reserving a spot. Ill be using Ora, theres a link to him in my sig.ey.
Edit: Here we gooeeeess!

BiC: Footprints.

Footprints are strange things- they fade away in time, though they are very much reffered to as "steps to the future" or "imprints of the past". They were like weapons- a seemingly normal object - but if used by somebody, they could become a deadly weapon, and could possibly be used against you.

These were the thoughts that occupied Ora's mind as he turned behind him to see his own horses footprints being covered by the rain. Nodding in satisfaction, he looked down at his stallion, Cloud and alerted her mentally.

Our footprints are being covered up. If any of those vampires try coming after us again, they might have to taste steel.

Or they could eat a hoof. It probably tastes better, added Cloud, her thoughts hinting amusement. Ora turned his head back around to see a speck in the distance. He urged Cloud to go faster, and she broke into a trot. He squinted his eyes to get a better veiw of what it was in the rain.

Ora recognized it as a town, or a village as he moved closer. Judging by it's size, it was a rather large village. He wondered if he could find a place to stay the night. He had money, and would be able to refill his packs with fresh new supplies for the days ahead. He read a sign as they passed it, sloshing noises emanating from the soles of Cloud's feet.

The village of Irida

Ora slowed down his mount as they arived at the entrance. He looked around and observed his surroundings.

The streets were all made of cobblestone. They were cracked, and looked very old. The houses and shops sat right beside one another, with small paths laying close to them. On these paths sat people. Most of them wore hoods to protect themselves from the rain. Thoughts of sadness filled his mind, and he realised that Cloud could sense it. She peered inquisitively at a small girl, with green rags that were worn and dirty , pointing at her in wonder and showing her to some other small children.

They are homeless...

Ora looked from left to right, seeing how many of the people littered the streets. if I were to rule, none of this would exist.

Cloud snorted, her hooves creating a melodious noise as they hit the cobblestone beneath them. How would you know of a place like this, in the middle of nowhere?

Ora looked up to see an Inn, a sign swinging from the top of the entrance door. The muddy goose

Ora halted Cloud and somersaulted off of her back. He heard a winny from Cloud behind him.

Showoff.

Ora smiled as he entered the Inn, the coldness from outside suddenly vanishing. He walked up to the bar and placed 5 gold coins upon it. "A room for one, and a place to keep my horse for the night. Oh, and I would like some dinner and some supplies, for the road."

The barman raised his eyebrow and looked down at the gold coins laying on the bar. he was polishing a glass, though the rag that he was cleaning it with was so dirty that he was just making the glass even more dirty. "Don't you have parents that are wandering where you are?"

Ora stared at the man, no sign of expression upon his face. "Where my parents are is none of your business. Now, could you escort me to my room?"

The barman was just about to open his mouth to reply when another man walked up and grabbed Ora's arm. "well, where would one such as you be getting all this gold, sonny?"

Big mistake. in a flash Ora had the sileik out, and the man cradled his hand as blood flowed freely from a wound across it. Ora's eyes glinted dangerously, reflecting off fo the blade.

"Do NOT touch me again, or you will lose more than your dignity. Who else wants to try doing what this fool has tried?"

Silence. Like the womb.

Ora smiled as he sheathed his weapon. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll bid you a goodnight."

The barman ran out from around the bar and raced up some steps. "Right this way to your room, sssir."

Ora followed him up the stairs, giving one last look at the man who had dared touch him. He took off his bag and threw it onto a bed, the barman sorting out some food upon a platter. Ora yawed and looked at the food that the barman was serving him. Staring at it with distate, he asked "What kind of food is that?"

The barman turned around to Ora and gave him the tray. "Tis only some chicken and salad, with some bread prepared from our finest cooks, mmaster. Have a good sleep, ttthen..." and with that, he scrambled down ths stairs like a wild beast was after him.

Ora found a knife and fork set upon the platter and lifted them up, raising a peice of chicekn into his mouth and muching thoughtfully. Though it did not look inviting, the food WAS good. He was about to imapale an unfortunate tomatoe upon his fork when a sharp pain hit him in the side.

He groaned and looked around. Nothing. Thinking that it must be stomach pains, he rubbed it and lifted his fork again.

Two sharp pains hit him in the stomach and he doubled over, cluucthing his belly. He gasped as a large pain struck him and he blacked out.

OOC: Alrighty then. This is where some ideas obviously stolen from the book Battle Royale come from…

BIC: The hybrid’s eyes opened slowly. He felt as though his breathing were restricted by something, like an inanimate object had somehow come to life and clutched his throat.

His vision blurry, he looked at his surroundings. The boy was no longer sitting in the comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. He didn’t even seem to be in the inn anymore.

Three more people lay around him. Two of them were females, the last one a male. His vision still blurry, the son of Gorin tried to stand.

The world began to spin around as he ascended, so he consented to just sit until the blurred vision and dizziness wore off. He heard the sound of turning wheels coming his way.

With all the energy he could muster, TDC turned around to see that a large object was coming his way. It was being pulled by four small objects, although all five objects were a brownish color.

The child’s vision began to clear up, although the dizziness didn’t change at all. He recognized the driver of the object, which he now recognized as a horse drawn carriage, to be none other than Thorm.

“Well child, you’re the first to wake up,” began the large man. A small girl walked alongside the carriage, holding what appeared to be a hollow stick.

“Unfortunately, you aren’t supposed to wake up for a few more hours. Night night kid.” The girl lifted up the stick, which TDC now noticed was the kind of stick used for blow darts.

The dart struck the boy in the shoulder. Despite the fact that he yanked it out and smashed it on the ground less than a second later, the hybrid was soon asleep.

Five hours and several dozen miles later…

Although TDC was still asleep, the others awoke to find themselves on an island. It was about the size of a medium sized town, yet they could still faintly see the shoreline in every direction.

Thorm stood on a small podium with the girl standing next to him. He stood with a big smile on his face, holding a red stone in his hand.

“What the,” began Irva. In response the large man squeezed the stone, looking at the gerudo. She felt something tightening on her neck and began to choke.

Once he’d gotten his point across, which was basically to be quiet, Thorm loosened his grip on the stone and Irva was able to breathe again. It was then that the group noticed that they had collars on their necks.

The collars were made of a strange kind of enchanted wood, runic symbols etched into them. The collars were so tight on their necks that their breathing was hampered a little.

“As you can see,” said Thorm, motioning to the collars. “You’ve been fitted with enchanted collars. These are to make sure you don’t try to kill me or try to escape.”

“They are specially made. If you leave the island they will tighten until they pop your head off. If you try to take them off, they will choke you until you stop. If you try to kill me, spikes will inject your throat with poison hundreds of times deadlier than the poisons that allowed us to take you here.”

Twilight was about to speak up when she remembered what happened to Irva. She kept her mouth shut, although she certainly didn’t like how the situation was turning out.

“The reason you are here,” continued the large man. “Is to partake in a certain game that our village loves to take part in. We take a group of warriors to a remote island, let them loose, then we hunt down and kill them.”

TDC began to wake up. Thorm looked down on the child for a moment before continuing with his speech.

“If you avoid death or capture for a week, you will be allowed to leave as well as regaining everything you had on you.” It was then that the three of them, as TDC was still too groggy to hear what was going on, noticed that their weapons and items were gone.

“Along with regaining your belongings, you will be given a place of honor in our village and be granted one thing. What is it? That’s for you to decide.”

Thorm, not minding that his speech had been rather blunt and basic, left with the girl closely behind. No doubt the villagers had things other than their own weapons.

Now that TDC was fully awake he turned to his temporary companions, wondering what was going on.

OOC: The reason this isn't in the normal forum is because fighting isn't the only thing they can/have to do. They must search for food, they can decide to hide from the villagers rather than kill them, etc.

Remember, the villagers are all trained warriors. Also, they may have some certain surprises up their sleeves.

Irva pushed her self up from the sand, the light grains of rock clung to her mocha skin like cinnamon to whipped cream. A deep purple bruise had began to form on her slight neck already where the collar had tightened to choke off her air supply. Her trained thin digits played across the wooden thing, the sensitive pads following the unknown ruins that were carved deeply into the starch substance. Ander swelled in her calm grey eyes, adding a strange glint. The Gerudo’s breath already haggard became even more so after a fit of wet coughs that sought to dislodge a few particles of sand from her throat.

Her feline face looked to each of the other captives in desperation, she felt naked and weak, something very uncommon to her or to any of her race. They had taken even the ring of brass that held back her tresses of red blond hair, it was clear that these people had not underestimated them. But, she thought with guile, they might not have accounted for her being magically talented, even if it was barely anything. She tried to summon a small tendril of shadow, but only instead enacted the collar to choke her further more. She stopped as her face began to turn blue, it was clear that these people had though of everything.

Her regularly clam demeanor broken, Irvanna sunk to the ground and buried her face into her folded arms, crying.

OOC: Ello! Anyone here?

OoC: Woops ^^;

BiC:

The first thing that Ora felt from when he woke from his slumber was a massive stomach pain. The second thing he noticed was that he had a ring of some sort fitted around his neck. His instincts told him to immediately remove it with his hands, only to discover that it started tightening if he did so. Being the tactical person he was, he decided that any other means were impossible also.

Ora looked up through blurred vision to see a wooden podium of sorts in front of him. No one appeared to be on it, so he pushed himself up and climbed on top of it, though with a little difficulty. He rubbed his eyes and scanned the horizon for a view of any surroundings.

In most directions there was shoreline, and within that the sheikah boy realised that he was on an island. Groaning slightly, He rested his head on the deck of the podium, listening to the earth for any sound of noise. There appeared to be some heavy rhythmic thumping coming from the north-westerly direction. Ora was about to jump off the platform when a figure below him said " Well, it seems you've waken up".

Ora looked below him to see a child looking up at him. He had short white hair, and he wore some baggy peasant rags that looked a little worse for wear. His gaze was somewhat disturbing, as he didn't take his eyes off of Ora. The Sheikah looked down at him questioningly.

"Yes, and I've woken up to something not to my liking".

“Right. I think you missed the explanation before. I was told by the others here and it isn't good. The collars we're wearing are enchanted. If you leave the island they will tighten until they pop your head off. If you try to take them off, they will choke you until you stop. And if you were to kill the person who took us here, you will be injected with a deadly poison by spikes hidden inside the collar".

Ora stared blankly at the kid, obviously thinking that it was his idea of a joke. The boy didn't change expressions though, and the fact that they actually were wearing collars proved the point.

The young ninja looked away from the small child and out at sea, then looked back at him, his brain working furiously. "And what is the point of this?"

The boy's glare intensified." It's for the island natives to hunt us down and kill us. The Survivor is honoured as a hero in the village".

Ora gaped but swiftly regained his composure. “I guess we have a small problem on our hands, then".

“Calling it small is even more of a problem indeed,” Irva muttered, lifting her head from her arms, her curly tendrils sticking to the wet spots on her skin. She blinked away the rest of her tears, her sandy lashes in places became stuck together and she had to open her eyes wide to fix them. Snaking her hand through her hair, she got it out of her face, and with her stormy grey eyes she looked at the boy on the podium, and then once again to those who where also gathered.

“I say we get a move on, I don't want to be caught here defenseless when those guys comeback.”

OOC: I know a short post, but I am trying to breath life back into this thing. Also thanks Jay for posting!

Sorry about that. My observation skills are surprisingly weak.

(Ive edited it slightly)