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Remains Of An Ancient Past [PG13 - LV]


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[size=1][color=indigo]I?m cold. Something smells. We?re in the cellar, and it smells like something is burning. Before we ran, I saw fire out the window. Papa tried to hide it from me, but I saw?

?Mama, why is it dark??

It?s war, now, isn?t it? Papa won?t tell me, and he keeps pushing me into the darkness behind the stairs, telling me to be quiet. There are bad people out there. He doesn?t tell me, but I know.


No, papa, don?t go up the stairs. They?ll find us. Then we?ll all die. Papa, someone?s in the house. They?re burning things. They took Kiasha; they threw her in the fire.

?Mama, they?re coming.?

Mama is hushing me again, putting her hand over my mouth and hiding me in her skirts. Mama, the smoke is making it hard to breath. Mama, don?t smother me, I can?t breath.


So many men, with guns, they shot Papa, Mama, they?re dead now, on the floor. I have to get out. No, let me go! The big men hold onto me, it hurts, the hold my arm to tight.

?Let go!?

More gun shots. That hurt, meanie! Kiasha was burned, too. Mama is dead? so is Papa? owwie, my side hurts a lot. I?m falling down. So many people screaming? it?s so dark, so many guns going off? I hurt. Was I shot? My side hurts, and it?s sticky? Did I get shot? Now my side really hurts? Breathing is getting really hard. It really stings now? everything is going fuzzy? so? dark? Oh, look? they brought me Kiasha?


Diary Entry 1: March 16th, 2760

We went on an expedition today. It was very tiresome; Jordan wouldn?t shut up long enough for me to understand what our guide was saying. I was supposed to be learning the language, but it?s a very difficult one; old Japanese, I think Alice said. We finally got to the dig; digs are always so much fun. I love getting my hands deep into the earth, hoping to see a glint of old metal or feel a broken piece of pottery beneath my fingers. We dug deep enough to find the remains of a small village. We thought we would.

I found something scary. In one of the remains of a house was a door to a cellar. In the cellar there were? the remains of three bodies. How long had they been there? From the air, the place had been airtight for thousands of years. A girl, a man, and a woman. Probably mother, father, and daughter. Something was near the girl. A rag doll. I left the things there, didn?t touch anything. Tomorrow I?m going back to see if I can find anything else.

Amelia Denmark


Four thousand years,
I lay in rest
Bound deep in earth
In a secret chest
Made of coal and dirt
Cool, dark, and at peace
Who is that who comes now?
May my spirit be released?

[I]?Kiasha? Kiasha, why is it dark??[/I]

No answer. Not that she expected one.

[I]?Kiasha, I think we are dead. Yes, we must be. See, there I am on the floor, next to Mama and Papa.?[/I]

She heard the sound of someone shuffling above. She frowned.

[I]?Kiasha, someone is in the house. But we?ve been here so long, no one could have found us.?[/I]

More shuffling, and the trapdoor to the stairs was lifted. The girl brightened.

[I]?Maybe they can tell us what happened.?[/I]

Amelia came down the stairs carefully, and stopped when she saw the girl. She could see through the body, such a sad mess. The first thought in her head: ghost. Amelia shivered, and stepped forward, straightening. The ghost girl had dirty hair, falling out of a braid. Her eyes, so lost an haunted. And in her hand she held the doll. The real doll, not just a ghost doll.

[I]?Did you come for us? We didn?t know what happened. Do you? How long have we been here??[/I]

Amelia was very still, listening to the words. She had no answers for the questions, and was still staring at the girl as if she wasn?t real. The girl stomped her foot impatiently.



This is a new genre for me to be trying out. I?m not sure what to say about it, except that I want everyone to have fun with this. I?m not even sure who your characters should be, though I would like them to somehow already be related to this. I want at least five people for this. I?m playing Amelia; someone can sign up as the ghost girl, if you would like, or Jordan, maybe.

[b]Name:[/b] [Full name]
[b]Age:[/b] [Be reasonable]
[b]Appearance:[/b] [No pictures for this, please. I?m testing your writing skills with this. Two good paragraphs.]
[b]Occupancy:[/b] [I want a small description as well as their ?job?.]
[b]Biography:[/b] [No shorter than three good paragraphs. Again, testing your writing. I also want to know as much about your character as you can give me.]

I will put up my sign up once I get a few replies. Thank you all so much![/size][/color]
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Sorry it's late my comp at home has been bord dejected since parent got home.

Name: Akiko Norihiko Furukami
Age: 8
Gender: Female
Appearance: A small little girl Akiko stands 3?8? with dirty brown-black hair is tied back in a lose bun. Her eyes are brown and hold confusion and sorrow. She is thin with high cheekbones and a low forehead smudged with soot and dirt in her hair. She wears a dirty faded red nightgown with a bright red splotch on her right shoulder that runs along most of her back. She is tense and stubborn. She has cloth strips wrapped around her feet and ankles to keep them warm and wears woven straw sandals with soft leather soles to keep them useable. Everything about her says poverty except the small brass phoenix pendent on a green thread. She is nearly always holding her little doll Kiasha. Kiasha has dirty brown hair that is tangled and black bead eyes.
Occupancy: Akiko did everything her mother wished her to do, sewing, cooking, and feeding the chickens and house pets. She was a good little girl and was kind to everyone but her kindness didn?t help her much. She now resides in the cellar as a ghost with her little doll Kiash.
Biography: Her mother and father meet and married on the night of the fall festival; it was an arranged marriage but what wasn?t in those days. A year later Akiko was born wailing her lungs out. Akiko was an early learner and walked steadily but talked in fragments when she was nearly two. She loved to chase the chickens until till she was two; accidentally tripping on a rock she sent a chicken fling into the pig pen where it was harassed until dead. Heart broken she went to her mother and told her mother what happened. Angry but kind her mother set her to work with the chickens to help her get over her fear. At three she had forgotten about the incident and was talking in sentences and running. Her father taught her to ride horse or ox at this time and took her to town frequently. Akiko received Kiash for her fourth birthday and globed onto the little doll instantly. Pouring her secrets, hopes, and dreams into the little doll she made it more lifelike to herself. Dragging it around everywhere she went it got dirty and grimy until she cleaned it. When she was five her father went away to war, to protect the great wall from the Mongols in the north. The guard failed in some places and many soldiers were sent back to protect their families. For three years their farm had changed growing more prosperous with every year. By the time she was eight the little doll had been patched up so many times she was almost ragged. Her father arrived home early one morning and started putting provisions down in their root cellar talking of war. For three months they waited eating little and slaughtering live stock to be smoked and stored in with the other provisions. Everything but the dogs was killed to provide food. After three months the Mongols came and started to burn the country side and pillage the towns and villages. News came in the form of smoke on the horizon and Akiko?s father ushered them down into the cellar where they waited in silence. Akiko was pushed into the dark corner under the stairs forgetting about Kiash until she heard the invaders in the house. In her mind she imagened her beloved doll being thrown into the fire and could hear its scream. Whimpering she ran to her mother and in the confusion afterwards was shot. Many years later she was awakened by the noises above and saw Amelia come into the cellar.
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I wrote this with as much detail as I could think of. If it's not detailed enough, I'll add more. Let me know what you think!
(PS I started hating this guy half-way through creating him.)

Name: Matthew Gillaven
Age: 34
Gender: male

Appearance: Matthew has burnt straw-colored hair. He always slicks it back when he needs to make a good impression, but besides that he never touches it. Where he's worked before, his co-workers could usually tell what kind of day Matthew was going to have, depending on which side of his hair was sticking up from beadhead. He's naturally messy, but he cleans up good when he needs to, which was essential for him when he used to make public apperances.

His skin is naturally pale, darkened slightly by hours in the sun. His eyes are brown, although they used to be blue. How? His father. He was a marketing genius. He told him that blue eyes linger in the memory, so Matthew wore blue color-changing contacts, that later faltered his vision and made him wear perscription contacts. Good ol' dad. His father never made a public apperance, though he did write an impressive piece on 'the outstanding salesperson.' Thanks to his father, Matt came to look like that salesperson.

When the time comes for Matthew to make a good impression, he always wears the same suit-cream colored suit, with the same red striped tie. That came from the mechanics of his father, too. Appear to every customer in the same way, that way he was easier to recognise. The red tie was an eye-catcher, that made people faintly remember the childhood "red-balloon". Matthew hated that tie, but it became habbit to wear it.

When Matthew was not focused on impression, he wore blue jeans, hiking shoes, and a green jacket, complete with bedhair, and glasses.

Occupancy: Dispite his father's wishes, Matthew never became a salesperson. He's had many jobs, though, where he did have to meet important people, or speak in front of a large audience, so his father's vanity wasn't in vain. Good ol' dad. He was dead now, though, from a heart attack. His last words, to Matt, were thus: "get...a camera in 'ere...dyin' man for...selling first-aid kits...perfect gimmick..." Matthew put his card on his tombstone.

Matt's current occupation is thus: he works with the expedition, meeting people who would fund it, as well as works on it himself. Since he hardly talks to his co-workers, except a morning grumble about cold coffee, he has earned a reputation as 'the million dollar ***.'

Biography:(here we go...) Matthew grew up in New York City, with his vain father, and his orthadox mother. Before and after his mother's constant bible-study, his father would show him the ropes of salespersona. His father sold tv's at best buy, and wore a nametag with polka-dots and a smiley face in the bottom corner. That was to be Matt's fate, too.

The first thing he did when he moved out, was renounce his religion. He twitches when somebody says "Jesus." His mother never talks to him, unless it was about his eternal punishment in the bowles of hell. Before every meeting, Matthew used to call his mother, so everybody could see what a decent guy he is. At one such an occasion, his mother's screech broke the earpiece to a very expensive phone. He doesn't call his mother anymore.

Matthew's father made sure he had a job before he had a work permit. His first hour out of the house, at age 18, was spent in a waiting room. He was going in for an interview, to become that company's fancy beggar. He would then meet with other companies who would sponser his company. Matthew took no pride in never failing to get funds. Nobody knew it, but Matthew utterly hated himself.

He then floated from company to company, doing the exact same thing. "Same *** different day" was etched in marble and hung above his door at home. He finally was given some freedom from his mundane boredum, when he took a job to attract funds for an acheologist dig, in middle egypt. The pay was minimal, and required walking miles and miles each day out into the middle of nowhere, and then miles and miles back to camp. Matthew loved every second.

Though a basically smug, classy salesperson, Matthew had his quirks. He was extremely fluent in Latin, which he used exactly twice, excluding the portion that snuck into his swearing. He was also deadly with throwing knives. He hasn't seen one in years. Though with the money he rakes in, he could easily afford a condo in Miami and never work again, Matthew continues to work. Why? Good ol' dad never taught him how to relax.
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Mmmm... Sounds interesting

Name: Sir Sampson Baillie

Age: 46

Gender: Male

Appearance: [URL=http://www.bridgetothestars.net/images/dalton2.jpg]Sampson[/URL]

Occupation: Sampson is an archeaologist, a rather good one, at that, who is famed throughout lands for his exploits and ground-breaking discoveries. He leads a team of other skilled archeaologists, who specialize in excavating forgotton human habitats, and other human-related things of the sort.

Biography: Sampson's father was an archeaologist like himself, although not quite as well known. Ever since his birth, Sampson's father had been pushing his son to become an archeaologist, training him, edjucating him. So, Sampson did. And his father would be proud, had he not died the year before in an avalanche.

It was on Sampson's third expedition, to the northern Yukon, where he came upon his first ground-breaking discovery. His team, spearheaded by Sampson, were camping on an ice ridge. They were testing for the effects of the new anti-global-warming programs put intro worldwide efect over ther last 300 years had made any differce. Instead, what they found was a literal city buired in the ice. For his find, Sampson was awarded with incredible fame, many awards, and was knighted by the King of England himself.

Sampson has an annoying tendancy to over-edjucate somone, even if they're not willing to learn. He makes it a well known fact that he knows more then you do, calling you on any liottle mistake you make. Some would call him an arrogant bastard, and they'ed be right.
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[font=Tahoma][color=silver]I've got yet to go back and read previous sign ups, but hell, It's Early and I have to go to work soon, so sorry if it's not finished, I'll pick it up when I get home from work.[/color][/font]

[size=1][color=silver][b]Name:[/b] Reggie Peirce[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=silver][b]Age:[/b] 23
[b]Gender: [/b]Male
[b]Appearance:[/b] Reggie isn't what all fanclub girls think of as 'handsome'. He's a looker, though, probably not in many people's tastes. He's got long black hair, down to his shoulders, often times pulled back into a losse poneytail. He's got a muscular build, a tone body, strong, broad shoulders and strong arms(he's shexi!). His face is pale and slender with keen, remarkably beautiful brown eyes, fading ever so slightly into a blue. And, by god, he's got the damndest smile you'd ever see any man have. (often, though, covored by black lipstick ^-^)[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#c0c0c0]His clothing often consists of loose fitting and rather baggy clothes when he's not working. Basically, anything that looks alright and he's comfortable in. On the job, though he's Odly proffesional looking. You look at him at work, three hours later, see him at home, you'd think you were imagining it. It's not just the difference of clothes, but the change of attitude. From layed back and casual, to excessivly responsible and consentrated.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#c0c0c0]I'll finish later, I'm sorry, I've got money to make, you know, don't want me to be fired, now! ^-^;;;[/color][/size]
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[size=1][color=#C82356][B]Name:[/B] Jordan Adelaire
[B]Age-[/B] 27
[B]Gender-[/B] Male

[B]Appearance-[/B] Jordan is a man who has a mild build and does not have to worry about his weight when he eats massive amounts of food. His

[B]Occupancy-[/B] Jordan is an archaeologist, one of the most finest alongside Amelia. He is a great man of history and acknowledges every single bit he is able to view as the most precious item on earth, even if its quality is less than what most pieces would be.

He is also a part-time substitute teacher at a University, teaching in history and biology courses. He is also a bartender when he is not working with Amelia in finding artifacts and whatnot, volunteering, or teaching. Jordan is known as one of the best in the bartending business. He has created many acquaintances at the club that he works at and is known as the funniest bartender. His nickname is Roger Rabbit.

[B]Biography[/B] [/size][/color]
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