Norrin Falk:Fire Bender
Yuki/Chi-Lan:Earth Benders

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The sun is so bright...cant see. Cant breathe... Ahhhh..Pain. So hot ahhhhh...it hurts My head AAAHHHHHHHHHHH...

"Ahh"Norrin woke, his head splitting with pain. He touched the back of his head and looked at the blood on his hand, Some one had attacked him from behind. Norrin looked around it was fairly dark but there was a torch in the distance. Norrin stood up, it was then that he realized his hades were shackled. He tried to melt them but they just burnt his hands. "Ahhhh! cant get out, geese that hurts, gotta find a way out." Norrin said to himself. Norrin walked towards the torch light. the pain in his head and hands kept him alert and focused. He saw silhouettes in the distance and ducked down hugging the wall.

Chi-Lan and Yuki awoke from there sleep and packed up continuing there horse ride. They eventually reached Mountian Ridge pass, a path with mountain walls on both sides, boulders would occasionally tumble down but the real danger were the Razer Tusk boars nasty things that would charge at anything they perceived as a threat. It was hot really hot, Yuki and Chi-lan had striped down to there under shirts and short shorts, revealing them to both be attractive women. Chi-Lan had softer features a almost innocent look, you would never know just from looking at her to be praticle a master bender. Yuki on the other hand was very attractive and had been most of her life, so wasn't so cutesy like Chi-Lan instead she was down right fine. This is what the hit-man that was following them noticed, he would find himself distracted by there looks. He would snap out od it going back to watching there movement, the way they talked, evry action in order to find a weakness so he could exploit it.

Ridge bolted through the forest and the kids were close behind. He turned to the left but Khuzo grabbed his arm.

"Right...right, genius..."

"Oh, sorry," Ridge said, and he turned in the right direction. The forest came to a small clearing where there was a single hut. An old woman sat by a fire, tending to it slowly. She looked up, and squinted to see who was there.

"Oh, who do we have here? A couple of young travelers? Why have you stopped-Oh my."

"You gotta help, lady. My friend just got uh, hammered, literally."

"Yes, this is very grave. Come with me."

She led them into her small hut, where there was a long, thin table in the center.

"Put him here," she said, and she waved her hand over it.

Ridge laid Khuzo down and looked down at his arms and chest. They were soaked with blood.

"Go wash yourself off."

Ridge left and the woman pulled out various medical supplies and herbs. She ripped off Khuzo's shirt and looked at the wound. Thick, black bruising was already showing up. The side of his chest had been crammed in, and even Reika's healing hadn't done enough. Shungo was out on watch, making sure noone was in pursuit.

The old woman pulled out a small vial. She jiggled it around in her hand. Reika looked at it.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It is water, water from the Northen Water Tribe. It is...very, very special water."

"What does it do?"

"Nothing, for me. I am not a waterbender, but you are."

"How did you-"

"That is not important. What is important is that you use this to heal your friend. It is your only hope at saving this young man."

"This water can save him?"

"It has brought men back from the throes of death before, I am sure it can heal one who still lives, regardless of the injury. But you must hurry, his time is short."

Reika grabbed the vial and opened it. The water wrapped around her hands and she put them on Khuzo. Light began to glow from her hands. This light was different, more powerful, and it was far more beautiful. The light seemed to cast over the whole room, and then Khuzo grunted. When the light faded, his wound was far better.

"Ugh...urgh...What the..." Khuzo looked down at his chest and saw that it was healed. Scar tissue was still there, but his chest felt just the same as it had before. One more scar over dozens more. As a matter of fact, looking at it now, it didn't even seem to come close to some of the other scars and old injuries he had taken over the years. His chest and back were covered in scars, and so was the rest of his body. Even some of the ones on his face seemed more grievous.

"Welcome back," Reika said. She was smiling.

"Yeah...where's Forge and the others?"

"I took care of them."

"You...you killed-"

"No. I couldn't get that far, but I managed to drive them away for a little while. They're waterlogged."

"Waterlogged doesn't begin to describe it," Ridge said, as he walked back in. He was smiling too.

"Yeah, she literally sent the whole river at them," Shungo said.

Khuzo suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"I take it you guys didn't see your dad?"

"Wait? What?" Reika asked, her mood suddenly changing.

Khuzo sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Since I'm in limbo till the next plot advancing post, I'll field it. Basically you creat a character:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Height: Weight:
Element: (Can only choose one or not be a bender at all. )
Weapon:
History: (Who is he/she? What does he/she want? Parents alive? How good a bender/fighter is he/she? Stay true to the show as much as possible, keep the spiritual stuff to a minimum. Creativity with bending abilities isn't rejected, but don't get ridiculous.)

You fill all that out, and it goes up for approval by ThatLostGuy or another RPG vet(like me) if he's busy and you're all set then. Only thing else is no godmodding(no creating a character with too many special abilities or is just flat out too powerful. It's best if you post in novel form, instead of script but that's fine(though I probably won't read it). The format I use is:

Character's Name (Element)
______________________________________

What they did last, where they are, etc.

_______________________________________

*Post goes here*

To tell the truth, at this point, it's more like a OC/fanfic jumbler, some people are posting stuff that doesn't involve any other characters. You can do that if you want. The big event that most characters are involved in is a resistance/invasion of the Fire Nation. You can join in on that if you want, but you'd need to hunt down a relelvant post to figure out what the heck is going on, which is probably nearly 100 pages back by now.

I've played in an RPG before, it's just that this one doesn't seem to have any structure like in that Storm Hawks RPG http://www.tv.com/storm-hawks/show/73579/storm-hawks-rpg-deliverance/topic/86461-902940/msgs.html?tag=board_topics;title;12

Everybody seems to just type in whatever they want from the looks of it.

Haha this is my first time posting like a legit story/entry on an RPG so give me a little slack. I also havn't written anythign in months so exuse the lack of eloquency. ohhh and it's in first person, idk if it should be in third, if it is someone correct. Gah i'm nervous that i'm doing this wrong =[[[[

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I aquaint these sunday summers afternoons, with the last bright rays of the sun pouring between the branches of birch trees, the white on their bark peeling away in the summer's heat with a sunday from my past. The sun begins to retract back into the mountain at around 6 o' clock, making the mousy weeds sprouting through the florest floor look vivid and beautiful. Almost a year to this day, is the anniversery of my total independence.

I wasn't metephorically "shackled" to anything, so to speak, but I couldn't live quietly with that twisting grief eating away at my stomach for any longer. I remember that day and all it has to hold.

Like always, my father lit up the grill and cooked proudly with the face of accomplishment plastered acrosss his facade. He smiled at the neighbours, and made light convorsation with them about sports and grilling techniques. But his small talk became the only kind of talk he could handle. He had this way of menauvering around any topic that would have caused him to divulge into his brain and recall a memory. Mother was of course hiding behind locked doors, and hiding her tissues, full of tears, at the bottem of the trash can, so no one could see them.B ut the white of her eyes were really never white anymore, and we all knew she cried constantly.

Dinner was especially uncomfortable that night. All I could here were fork tines scraping against teeth, chewing loudly with the back molars, steak knives struggling to slice through over-cooked pork and spoons scouring along porcelin dishware. I thought I had gone mad, I couldn't stand to sit there for a moment longer, and I slammed my fork down on the table so hard, it shook, causing the ice in the glass to clatter against it's sides. Mother just looked down at her plate, as if nothing has happened, and father gave me a glare that needed no words. I stood there for a good thirty seconds, soaking in the silence, and even understanding. I stood up, and thrusted my chair into the table, which yelped loudly when it scratched along the wood floors. I went to my room and grabbed everything I could fit in a small cloth duffel, and headed out the door without looking back at the table.

Knowing father, he most likely said
"She'll be back by the time night falls." but i think deep down inside he knew he would never see me again.

I looked at my bounty, 10 gold coins and watch encrusted with ruby's. This would keep me living the good life for another month. The good life really nothing but a falsehood, and I have no objections to that.

I'm no whore, I'm a con-artist. A delicate genius with a sensual smile across these painted lips. It's really easy as shooting fish in a barrel. You go to the smokey brothels where the well-to-do men lurk in the shadows. You lean against a corner looking non-chalant and bit detatched from where you are. Your dress hugs the curves of your hourglass hips, with just enough clevage coming through the top of a V-neck and a slit running up the side of your leg that stops at your mid-thigh.

You are the perfect mix of arousing and racy with a hint of naivete. You catch the corner of their eye and pretend you were looking somewhere else, and keep doing this until him comes up with you in a gin-soaked voice says something sleezy. You examine him. If he wearing rags, or has bad grooming, you kick him to the curb, but he has fine watches, expensive suits, and a greasy come-over, you know you hit the jackpot. He invites you back to his place and just when he think he's gonna get lucky, you through out this wild idea of tieing him to the bed, because it'd be sexy. He of course agrees without objetion, and when he is secure, you ransack his house and leave and soon as you came.

I don't feel bad beause i'm an vigil-anti as well. If I see an afluent man who has heaps of dirty laundry to hide and who led some scandelous politics, killed the innocent, or is just plain greedy, he will always be my first target.

I'm coming to a crossroad at my life. As I stand at this fork in the trail of the forest, I feel compelled to travel both roads, but know once I head down one, i may not travel the other.

My younger sister was really the vigil-anti of the family. She always wore such a big grin on her face, and that fateful day at the market, was the last day I'd see it. I was browsing around the stands, looking at this stunning piece jewelry. A gold chain, forked at the bottom, will an emerald encircled by a crest. It was way out of my price range, but i was infatuated with it. My sister, treasure, must have wandered off. After a couple minutes of browsing, I suddenly heard yelling.

"Thief, thief! stop that girl in the yellow dress!"

My sister wore a yellow sun dress that day, which rippled out at her knees. I bought her that dress for her 9th birthday. I whipped my head around to see Treasure running down the dirt path, kicking up enough dust to start and sandstorm, with about 4 or 5 soldiers nearing in on foot.

"Hey, that's my sister!" I yelled out for some reason. I'm not sure what it mattered.

"Well that rotten little girl just stole one of the apples off my cart!" the woman said, pointing to the dent in the produce.

I ran after Treasure as fast as I could, my breathe heavy, struggling to reach my lungs. Little beads of sweat freckled on my forehead as I rounded a corner, into the alley where the soldiers had her cornered.

"Hey!" I shouted, wrestling for air. "Don't hurt her! She is my sister, she is only 9." but my words were wasted.

One of the soldiers took his fist and socked her across the face with no mercy. In there eyes, she was no child. I ran towards them blindly, tears welling up in my eyes.

"STOP!" I cried, my voice cracking.

But they threw another punch into her stomach, so heavy I could hear a thud. Treasure was crying out for help, but there was nothing I could do. One of the soldiers pushed me to the ground, and went back to beating her. I caught a glimpse of her face, all twisted and bruised, with a little stream of blood trickling from her mouth. My heart dropped into my stomach.

They started to carry her away. She was too weak to fight, so she just dragged along the ground limp, like roadkill. I followed after them, keeping my distance, for her safety and mine. They went back to the market place, and tied her to a pole. The people were clearly confused, and turned around to watch the spectacle. One of the soldiers spoke:

"This theif, stole from an innocent old lady, trying to make ends meet. She may be a child, but she will grow up one day to be a thug. Who here casts the first stone?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing

"Your a pig! She's nine! She's just a kid! She's only 9!" I kept repeating that over and over. I couldn't think what else to say. I couldn't think what else I should possibly say.

"Who here will cast the first stone?" he asked his again, his eyes empty as he looked towards the sun.

The old lady from the produce stand stepped forward, holding up a small, but jagged rock.

"I will." she said, her voice crawling with hate.

She whirled it at her, hitting her right in the face, leaving a scratch on her cheek. Those little tear stained cheeks. Before I knew it, stones were being thrown left and right. I ran to untie her but soldiers held me back. I was kicking and screaming and fell to my knees because I was truly in hell. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something red and shiny. The apple. In the hands of an homeless orphan girl. I could see the guilt swarmed across her face as we met eyes. She looked at me, wordless, her mouth gaped slightly opened, as she retracted back into the shadows of the slums. I was in hell.

Although the war had ended, and Zuko had taken throne, things were still far from perfect. We were still living behind the Iron Cutain here in this small Fire nation village, that Zuko had yet to have visited. The soldiers were still cruel, the people still starving, and war still very alive.

I remember my parents as they carried Treasure's corpse from the market place. Her long blonde hair, which was rare for a fire nation girl, was draped over my dads forearm. Her mouth, all cracked and covered in dry blood. Her eyes, blue and smokey, covered in this film, and that's when i knew she gone. I never went back to the market.

I stand here at this fork. The trees are dense and I can't see past either trail to far. Footprints litter one, while on the other, the dirt is still fresh. I take the one less traveled.

I never met the avatar or their infamous gang. I've heard stories, read the tabloids, seen the plays. They were celebrities and they were everything I wanted to be. I longed join them more than anything in the world. Little did I know that on a sunday afternoon, walked down the path with the fresh dirt, I would be ambushed by a rag-tag team of rebels, who wanted what I wanted. Fame, Fortune, and Revenge. We are not the good guys, and we are not the bad guys. We are something in-between which made us so sly and cunning and absolutely untouchable. Or so we thought.

That fork in the road, I took the path less traveled, and it made all the difference.

__________

lol i'm so cool with robert frost and cold war refrences

A really nice post LondonParis but realize that there are people who check to see if what we write is okay. So just don't be to um... graphical when it comes to the female body if you see what i mean.

Still a good post though.