Sorry I'm late, I kinda forgot about this. Anyway, I'm here now.

Name: Lyra

Age: I'm an elf-ish sort of person, so I look about 13/14 but I don't know the exact year, most likly in the three hundreds...

Appearance: Longish brown hair, tanned skin, black eyes, some freckles, kinda tall and sometimes, when emotional, werewolf ears and a tail.  A green dress with a hufflepuff cloak and a belt and boots.

Personality: Bookish, quiet, but when somthing bad happens, a fighter, not really patient, nervous about small things, kinda creative

Luggage: Lord of the Rings (book) Mini prepard-ness kit ( Four pencils, two erasers, one sharpner, one compass, a whistle, string, extra hair-ties, pad of paper, small piece of candy, ten credits, one Galleon, three Lusters and mask.) Notebook, change of clothes ( grey dresswith a Slythren scarf, and a hodded cloak), with everything in a grey messenger bag.

Name: Legolas

Age: Ageless

Appearance:  Sort of like a brown and green pigmypuff with a bow and arrow compartment for his bow and arrows. 

Personality: He doesn't talk and can't move very quickly Mostly he just stays in my bag. Ocasionally he says a captcha. 

Luggage:  A small black bag that I can carry him.

I forgot to mention; Sea Glass' pronouns are xe/xyr/xem. (Check the Gender thread on DtE for more information if you needit.) I also messed that up on xyr charrie sheet. Sorry, SG!

It is forgiven. 

Three spots left? Yes? No? If nobody joins, I'm starting anyway?

Well, it's your Ski Lodge, so you get to make the rules! ;)

I'll post the first part on Sunday.

Sorry for the huge delay! I completely forgot among my actual life! :D Anyway, here's a prologue for now, because I need some time to write the actual part.

~~~

Nighthawk stared through the window. Their breath created a misty area on the paned glass. A blur of lights and dots was flashing by. Aboard The Nocturnal Express, everything seemed to be darker.

The lights were dimmed in the first-class compartment, where Nighthawk sat alone. She felt curiously cold, as if the emptiness alone was a threat. They shivered, and pulled their sketchbook closer.

“Hello.”

Nighthawk, startled, whirled around in her seat, holding her sketchbook like a sword. “Oh, it’s you,” they sighed.

“Right now, we’re the only people on the train,” the person whispered.

Nighthawk gave them a questioning look. Nighthawk opened their mouth. They couldn’t speak, whether it was from shock, or the glinting silver knife protruding from their chest.

~~~ 

“Pew pew pew!”

Moonfrost glanced around. The atmosphere was warm and friendly in the large economy carriage. The moth-eaten, weathered seats had disappeared in a multitude of brightly-colored blankets. Playing cards and dice were strewn around the room, and someone had hung bunches of Chinese New Year lanterns around the compartment to bring light.

Neko and Abigail were playing Indiana Jones, and the ‘pew pew’ sound had come from Abigail’s teasing when she shot at Neko while she was reloading. Cockleburr, ALizarine, and Lyra were having an intense, rapid-speed round of Uno. Viola and Moonfrost simply sat in the corner, chatting about Chatterbox Economy. The AEs were all engaged in a pillow fight - the shy ones in a pillow fort with a lamp, the wilder ones going full-out pillow war.

There was one person missing from the slumber party/train ride though. “Hey, you guys, where’s Nighthawk? I saw the train schedule and they were picked up first,” Moonfrost called out.

“She might be in the first-class compartment. I saw it, but I didn’t want to go back in. It’s cold and creepy,” Neko commented.

“C’mon, let’s go see!” Sea Glass said.

Sea Glass, Moonfrost, and Neko tiptoed into the first-class compartment. Sea Glass shrieked. “Wh-what?! I-is Nighthawk dead?” Sea Glass gasped.

Moonfrost turned pale. She stepped forward, and inspected the body, like a detective on a trail. “The first murder,” Moonfrost muttered.

“She was killed with a silver knife,” Neko whispered.

“Viola and you packed knives . . . but they could have been stolen,” Moonfrost reasoned.

“You guys! Better come see this!” Sea Glass called.

The whole group crowded into the compartment, just as another person rushed in.

“Oh no,” they said breathlessly.

The newcomer had black hair, with a pink extension. The hair fell down to her shoulders. Her eyes shifted from a caramel to a hazelnut-gray, and then to a coconut color. Her skin was slightly darker than the average person in the U.S., and she was also rather short.

She wore a t-shirt (pink, of course), and tattered jeans. As her old sneakers pounded on the floor, her hair flew back to reveal pointed ears.

“What happened?” the girl cried.

“She was murdered!” Blaire screamed.

A clamor arose among the CBers. “Calm down, everyone. I’m the director. We’ll try to find the murderer. Unfortunately, we can’t bring back Nighthawk,” the girl said.

A black snake slithered up behind her. “Hello Night-Roamer,” she said.

“You’re welcome,”  the snake hissed menacingly.