This is a sad, dead rp.

This will not die this will not die THIS WILL NOT DIE!!!!!!!!! Please please please! Sixteen pages is too much to lose!

~Meredith~

I was utterly relieved to have found a new ally, and that she wasn't dead as I had feared. But the message still troubled me. If this Professor was named Quizzely (as Jesse had said he was), then where was the London we were looking for? Then it hit me: Dehlia had not specified that this was where to find London. She'd only implied that this place would have something- or someone- who could help. When the general hysterics had died down a little, I asked Quizzely, "Professor? You know, we didn't come here without a purpose. We have to track down two people who may or may not be lost in time: the son of one Dawson Moreson from 1466, and someone from this time with the name London. Could you possibly-" I was cut off abruptly by the Professor's expression. When I mentioned London, he blanched and appeared utterly in distress, rocking back and forth a little and making an odd whimpering noise. Dora softly touched his shoulder and asked, "What's wrong, sir?" 

Quizzely's original answer was so soft that not even Dora could hear it. Upon being asked to repeat, he whispered, "London. You must mean G-George. George L-London. He was a very good friend of mine from England. Just yesterday I received word that he had (gulp) passed away. Do you...do you understand what it is to lose a friend like that? One so close as to nearly be a brother? I had no idea you were searching for him." Quizzely sniffed and wiped a tear from where it had lodged in his mustache. "I'm s-sorry to have lost my composure. It's no f-fault of yours, but the mention of him reopened the wound." We all stood in silence for a moment, sharing the Professor's grief. Then Autumn shook her head sadly and said, "We all feel for you, sir. But that does not diminish the fact that we need your help. Your friend George may have passed beyond the grave, but surely there must be some trace of him left? Family we could contact, or a will perhaps?"

Quizzely brightened, sniffed again, and left the room with a promise to be back quickly. He did indeed return within a couple minutes, holding an official-looking slip of paper. Holding it up so that the entire group could see, he announced, "You were right about there being a will. The correspondence which informed me of George's death was, in fact, a notice that he had bequeathed to me a share of his property. No money, just a number of trinkets and curios that he collected over the years. I forget just exactly what he left me; maybe you would like to see?" We all crowded around the Professor as he opened the document and began to read it aloud.

************

By the way, George London was an actual person! He was a landscape designer from England in the late 17th century, and he did die in 1714.

Heun~

I turned around and smacked my head against the wall. When the other girls asked me why in the WORLD I had done that, I just smacked myself again. " UUGGHHHH! WHY DIDN'T I SEE IT BEFORE? Nazar has that boy the man was talking about! Nazar has his son!! Why didn't I see it?! oh, I'm so stupid! ohhh.." Meradith stared at me, clearly shocked."ooooooo... now I see. Wow, how did we all miss it? we have to go back soon, or the boy will be in big trouble... and then there's the matter of getting him back to where he came from, and all of us, too! oh man..." So now we had another mission; get back to Nazar's evil hut. Great. Just Great.

THANK YOU, DANIELLE!!! *SUPERFLYINGTACKLEPOUNCE*

~Heun~

Back
again. Back in a cell. But this time better; no chains. As Jesse
prowles around and the other girls chat in a corner, I start searching
the walls for loose stones. I search for a long time. But I find
nothing. I don't, but Dora does! [PLEASE WRITE, BHR! PLEASE!] She groans and leans her head back against the wall. I jump on her and knock on the stone. Insted of solid rock, I hear a hollow tinkle! "We FOUND it! We FOUND it!" I shout, knocking on the wall so hard that I don't hear the boy in the next cell run to the hole he had been chipping, hoping it lead to the outside.

Does the boy have a name? If so, just assume that's what I said. If not, well here it is!

~Cy    (eye with a c)~

I had been sitting in this cell for weeks. On the 23rd day, just when I was starting to leave all hope behind, just when I was sure my hole, which I hoped against hope led to the outside, was useless and the stone was miles thick, I heard some chatting and other noises near my hole. The voices sounded like girls. Since when did Nazar the Nasty want anything to do with girls? Silly creatures, if you asked me then. But now, I know for sure just how heroic (and dangerous!) girls can really be. I put my ear to the hole for a miunite or two, while I heard a faint knocking on the other side of the wall, moving closer to my hole. And then I heard it! They were talking about "Where could the man's son be? He must be here somewhere!" They were talking about me, I knew it. I padded back to my seat, right under the thin ray of sunlight coming from the high, barred window. Then I herad a girl groan very loudley and knock her head against.. my hole! I leaned closer, just because. Then I herad an "Oof! Heun-" and a "Get out of the way!! I'm onto something!" Before a rapid knocking and 'Heun' yelling "We FOUND it! We FOUND it!" I dashed my fastest over to the hole, now half an arm's lengh deep, and started tapping with my large, pointed stone. The rapping suddenly stopped. I pounded harder. Excited voices came from the other side. Harder. Gasps and running feet. Still harder. Finally I break through, feeling the sunlight warm on my face... untill my fantasy is shattered by a girl that must have been a fairytale. She had thin eyes, pointed at the corners, just like the fables of people from the east. Were they real? I drew back, startled, as the girl spoke to me. "Are you the boy? Well? are you?" She draws back too, reveling 8 other girls, one with shortish hair and dark skin, but I can tell she's female. Another one has a brooding pout on her face, like she'd rather be in a pit of lava then sitting where she is in a corner. "Girls?" I say. "My father sent a bunch of girls?" While I was speaking, I hardly noticed the brooding girl plod over to the hole and stick her skinny arm through, grabbing my neck. "What about us?" She growls, Holding her other fist so I can see it.

Can I sign up? Or is it too late?

Name: Emma Earhart

Related to the heroine: Amelia Earhart (she was her daughter, no one knew she even had one)

Lives in Atchison, Kansas 1946

Suddenly Disappeared July 2, 1946 (aged 10 at the time) strangely her mother disappeared, the same date, July 2, 1937 (aged 39).

Age: 10

Short length red hair, brown-gray eyes, exactly 4 feet, 10, inches.

Personality:Speaks out passionately when something she cares about is happening, strong, dependable, bold, stubborn, definitely a tomboy.

Random fact:

At age 8 flew as the pilot an of airplane.

Is Amelia Earhart’s other daughter still on here? Eh-hem, Anywho, l will start;

Finally she was flying her own plain! Soaring over the Atlantic, just like her mom, It was breath-taking! My mom disappeared here, she thought to herself, on this date at this time-. She hadn't had time to finish that thought, because her plane was rumbling, and the tips of the wings started to sparkle, Time-Tears! and she was gone, plain and all. She fluttered open her eyes still in the plane, which landed on a ship! “My, my, now, let's see.”

Then she saw a man. “Excuse me sir, but where am I?”

He sighed, “The Mayflower! The Mayflower! How many times do I need to say it!”

She cleared her throat. “So sorry to trouble you!”

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How was that? Short I know, but it is what it is! Oh and I had a thought, what if Amelia Earhart’s other daughter is still on here, how ‘bout we don’t know each other were born? ‘Cuz I had no clue there was another daughter when I posted that! Oh and can you make her a new plane, Corina? Hers got beat up.