This is going to be so fun!

HYPERWILDTOP!! 

HYPERUNCONTROLABLLYWILDTOP!!

HYPERUNCONTROLABLLYWILDTOP!!!

HYPERWILDTOP!!

HYPERWILDTOP!!

HYPERWILDTOP!! 

Although that is true, Topiing DOES MOVE THREADS AND IT WASN'T MOVING!!

Abby~~~

I look around the raining city and sigh. Somtimes I wish that I had a real home and wasn't wandering the streets. I exit the alley and wander the streets, trying to get some food from the people walking around. I manage to get some old bread and an apple before the rain stops and the sun starts shinning.

You are pitiful! 

Gee, thanks Malum. I've always wanted this.

Pah! Why don't you go into that side alley their? 

I look to my right and see a side alley. I can hear the sound of people talking. I shake my head and walk on, but not before I see two pairs of eyes watching me.  

Rogue~

I open my eyes to the rising sun. I always get up before sunrise. Omnia twitches in her sleep when I put my blanket over her. Sighing, I lean against a building at the mouth of the alley. The sun peeks its face up over the horizon, smiling optimally over the earth. I feel it's warm rays creep up my body, turning my hair from brown to a blazing red-brown, light playing over the strands like sparks from a fire. The darkness had hidden the undertones of my hair. My eyes tramsformed as well, lightening into a true green.

"Pretty." My fist paused a centimeter away from Blade's face. "Whoa, I was NOT expecting that. You know, you're the very first person whose caught me off guard. I assume the same for you?" Blade says.

"No, I just wanted to test how fast your reflexes were." A smile plays on my lips. Blade combs his hair with his fingers again.

"Ugh. I'm usually not that slow. Do you have a reason for getting up at the crack of dawn?"

"Do you?" I reply smoothly.

"Touche." Blade squints at the sunrise and leans on the side of the building with me.

~~

Ship set. 

HYPERUNCONTROLABLLYWILDTOP!!

Rogue~

A girl about my age ha been ghosting around our alley for a few days now. She knows we're watching her, too. She just hasn't decided on whether or not to join us in our little box huts. She smiles at Omnia when she sees her, but doesn't dare come up to Omnia to pet her. Omnia herself has begun to grow like a normal dog. Blade sometimes attempts to make small talk but I find it boring to talk about myself so I always ask him to tell me of his adventures in the wilder world. I often find myself in rapture of the stories, mainly because I've never had my own adventure. Blade's words carry me away from this horrid, hard-hearted city. I've never had a friend like him before. Sometimes, when I watch the sun go down, he sits next to me, and we watch the sun sink under the horizon in silence. Neither of us are very talkative, so we never need to fill the silence. One day, I came back from walking Omnia and Blade was there, waiting for me. His face lit up like a candle outside on a breeze-less day. He held out both of his hands, clenched in fists around two objects, one in each hand.

"Pick a hand." He said, smiling. I chose his left hand.  He opened it, revealing two bracelets. Each was made of thread, with a wooden bead in the middle of each. There were words written on the beads, but it was relatively dark so I couldn't read them. I slipped one bracelet onto each wrist.

"Thank you, Blade." I replied. He just smiled gently. 

~~

SORRELSHINE I NEED YOU TO CARRY ON!!

HYPERUNCONTROLABLLYWILDTOP!!!

Please don't let this die so soon guys! There have only been three RP posters on this thing and I'm VERY DISAPPOINTED!!!

Rogue~

The girl stepped into the shadows.

"I'm Abby. I've been watching you guys for a week or so, and I was wondering if I could join you...?" She says quietly. Blade shrugs and Omnia looks up at me. I stand.

"I am Rogue. This is Blade, and my dog is Omnia Mihi, but you can call her Omnia." Abby's eyes are flooded with hope and relief. "You can stay here if you want. There's no place else with kids as misfitted as us, at least not in New York, anyway." Abby smiles sheepishly. Her white and black hair falls forward as she giggles. Blade is still discreetly eyeing her suspiciously and I nudge him with my foot. He looks up at me. I shoot him a reasurring look. He shoots back a look that says 'Can I talk to you for a second? Somewhere private?' I nod the slightest bit. Abby is shifting boxes around to make her dwelling. and Blade and I sneak away.

~~

Catsclaw. Claaws, Moon wolf, Alta, Aspen, YOU GUYS NEED TO EITHER BACK OUT OR POST. Please don't back out, though. Sorrelshine, Moonfrost, and Viola? you guys have posted ONCE. COME ON GUYS THIS IS PATHETIC.

I'm so sorry Rogue! I've been away on vacation and I just got the time to sit down and do some roleplaying.

Abby~~~

As I move the boxes around I try and ignore the fact that Blade and Rogue have snuck off to talk. 

Finally! You've grown a backbone.

Malum, seriously you're so annoying. 

That's what I'm here for. 

I finish moving the boxes around and nod happily. I've set my box up and it looks rather good. I pull out a sharpie I found from my bag and start drawing on the box. I don't notice Rogue and Blade are standing behind me until Rogue says:

"Wow. That's good." 

I whip around and hide the picture. I've drawn a picture of Malum and what she dreams about at night.

"Nope! It's not good." I snap.

"What do you mean? It looks amazing." Rogue says.

I look at it and sigh, only I get what it means.

"It's a drawing of my nightmares and the person who tortures me every night." I explain.

Really, you're talking about me alread.

Yes! Now shut up!

"Who tortues you at night?" Blade asks.

"Malum, she's part of my curse." I say.

The wait for me to explain but I don't. I turn around and continue to draw on the side of the box.  

Ugg sorry Rouge haven't been able to write things for awhile, I tried on my phone but it deleted so here I am now hopefully writing a good post on this computer! 

~Samantha

The streets were dark and dull as dawn slowly inched its way through time. The streets were empty, except for the before-dawn go-getters who apparently had more important things to do then to put a simple coin in the cup of a simple homeless girl's.  

Sam didn't have a box or a blanket or anything except herself, her tattoos, a beat up pair of shorts and black shirt, and the simple hoop earring pierced in the top of one ear. She had gotten all these things before her older brother had died. She was 12 then. 3 years later nothing much has changed from her life alone, she still misses her brother of course, she still hasn't scraped up enough money for a blanket (if she ever wanted one), and bearly scavenges enough money for lunch. People have this weird habit of hoarding money, even though they have enough to by a flat-screen TV and a large house. You would think they would at least spare the change they'd throw out into the streets anyway, right? Well, people have a crazy habit of feeling sorry but not doing anything about it. 

Sam herself was currently leaning against a bench in an alleyway. She wasn't allowed to actually sleep on it, as state law apparently, but she was allowed to sit by it. The restaurant owners weren't too happy about her arrival a few days ago, and she thought it was about time to migrate to a different spot. She was getting bored of this dingy old place. Plus, the guy around the corner hasn't stopped talking to the trash can for a solid three days. She couldn't judge him though, because she had talked to a trash can once before too. It didn't go so well, the trash can only had judgmental-type put-you-down things to say. Let's say it ended with some block missing a trash can and some officer trying to catch her with a charge of damage to state property or something like that. 

Sam stood up slowly and stretched. The first lazy rays of dawn had reached the alley, and the yellow light brushed her eyelashes as she looked over the place that had been her home for three days. She wondered what it was like to have a home of your own. Even when she had her brother, they were constantly moving around dingy old apartment buildings and trailer parks, his job didn't pay well and nothing would let a young girl work for more than a few bucks. She thought it would be nice, living somewhere permanent. But nothing really permanent, is it? 

The girl grabbed her beat-up plastic cup, with one quarter in it, the one she had found on the ground. It wouldn't bye her anything, so she would be going without breakfast. As usual. 

She made her way around the corner and instantly spotted the guy and the trash can she had heard so much about. He looked up at her. "Hey." She said, dropping the quarter from her cup into her hand. "Get that trash can something nice to eat." And she tossed him the quarter before walking away into the winding streets. 

She had walked these streets a million times, yet she could never remember where everything was. She thought the market was one right turn...then a left...nother right...walk straight...turn right...but nothing was there. Giving up, she just let her feet walk, hoping they knew better than her. 

As she walked, she spotted the emerging families, friends hanging out, or just people talking. She had never really had a true friend, and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she did crave a person to talk to. Or just to listen to. 

She sat down on a bench to rest for a second. You don't have that much energy when you bearly eat a thing. As she sat, she held out her cup. A family walked past. The father gave her a cold look. But the daughter spoke. "Can I have a dollar or two?" She asked. 

"Why." The man demanded. "To give to that girl? Well, don't waste your time sweety. You don't know why she needs money...it could be for drugs, or for a...guy..., you can never trust the people on the streets. You don't know what they've done to get there." 

They walked away. The girl shot her an apologetic look, but Sam had gotten used to those snide comments from men. They didn't understand, feel sympathy, or anything like that. They always assumed the worst. It was better to let a young girl starve than to give a druggie two dollars. And from her experience, that wouldn't buy anything. He's right, no passerby has ever stopped to ask her her story. Nobody cares how she ended up on the streets. And it's not as bad as people usually think. 

She sat there for a few more minutes before getting up and walking again. It seemed like an internally before her feet brought her to a wide open area; the marketplace. She sighed in relief, people usually spare her their leftovers if she asks. Or she just steals them. It makes her life a lot easier. 

She ducked, keeping a low profile as she went to hide behind one of the stands. Then, with a deep breath, she let herself shift. 

Oh, haven't I mentioned that yet? Sam can shapeshift into a maned wolf. The animal that has had both the authorities and animal control baffled. You wonder how Sam has managed to escape the law and social services for so long.

She kept her head low as she walked into the marketplace. At first glance, in the shadows of morning, she looked like a normal dog. A stray German shepherd, or malamute. But if you take a good long look, you'll see the odd coloring of the fur, and the weirdly long legs famous to just one species. 

The maned wolf.  

~~~

And thats all I got at this moment. Can everyone like run into eachother at the market place somehow? Do yalls like that idea?  

Jax~

The sun wakes me up like it always does. Light rays hit my body and warm me almost immediately as I stretch and yawn.

I carefully fold up my worn blanket and put it into my pack, then take down my rain cover and load it as well. Today I was moving camp to a more discreet place. I had seen a cop eyeing my tree yesterday, and it was then that I had decided to move.

My stuff put away, I climb lithely down the tree. Even though I’m tall I’m a surprisingly good climber, which is why I liked to camp in treees. That and it didn’t make me feel as homeless as I actually was.

Setting off at a moderately brisk pace, I head towards one of the main city squares. Market day was every Thursday of the week, and I could usually peddle or steal food. All of those open air carts and vendors were jack pot for theives and pickpockets.

I reach the market just as the first couple of vendors are setting up. The ones I walk past all cast wary glances my way, and even though they make my blood boil I force myself to look at the ground. Challenging people with direct eye contact is dangerous, especially when you’re trying to keep low. 

I find a quiet corner to sit down in where I can see most of what will happen. The spot is shielded by large, sealed barrels, so people probably won’t notice me here. I sit down and hug my bag to my chest, then start watching for any food stealing opportunities.