Something in the Air
g o v e r n m e n t - e x p e r i m e n t - g o n e - w r o n g

Genre :: Modern Fantasy
Difficulty :: Literate to Advanced
Space Available :: None
Out-Of-Character Thread :: CLICK!!!

Story ____________________
It's the year 2012. Reality television's popularity is on the rise! Producers all over Hollywood are trying to come up with new hit ideas, trying to create something that has never been seen before and is sure to bring in a ton of popularity. Finally a new idea, a cross between Survivor and the Real World, shows up and appears the be the perfect opportunity for something new..

"Surviving Solitude",as it was named; and whose casting finished within the year 2010, is now set to shoot. The contestants are all being flown in from around the world, their eyes sparkling and their hearts aflutter. The whole idea behind the show seemed pretty simple at first: survive in a house on an island completely cut off from the rest of civilization. Yet unbeknownst to them, something terrible is going to happen.. There's something in the air.




What's Going to Happen _____

• Everyone's going to arrive
• Everyone's going to get settled
• Everyone's going to go through.. changes..

The Cast _________________

• Maria Alvarez
  
• Edwin Cooper
• Suza Dazefield
• Sebastian Rodolfo Ferris
  
• Alice Lions
• Syris Kei Hsuragi
• Jillian
• John Wyatt Brannen
• Camille Belusan
• Kiyomizu Shin
  

The Application ____________ POST IN OOC THREAD
+Name ::
+Age ::
+Country :: from where you came, of course. I'd like some variety, but if there isn't any, then ohhh well..

+Physical Description ::
Please be as in-depth as possible :]

+Brief Personality ::





The Rules ): ______________

• Follow all Menewshan rules, of course.
• I have the right to deny your application.
• If at any time you have to leave the group, your character will be withdrawn from the island completely and/or they will die. If the first option, they will be eligible for return if you change your mind.
• The application is to be posted in the OOC thread.
• Please be fair when it comes to posting. If play A posts a three-paragraph post, don't post a one-liner.

The Players

Originally Posted by PinkGeek

+Name ::Suza Dazefield
+Age :: 19
+Country :: Alabama, United States of America
+Physical Description ::
Suza has short red hair that's just a inch below her chin. She has green eyes, and stands taller than most boys at 5'9. She has smooth tan skin, is pretty muscular for a girl. She has a scar on her left wrist from the splinters of a wooden baseball bat that she smashed into a homerun ball. She has a tattoo on her back of twin fairies to symbolize her star sign. She wears jean shorts that reach just above her knees along with a light green tank top.

+Brief Personality ::
She a tomboy to the max, but that doesn't make her mean, she's actually very nice and loves kids. She has a short-temper when someone pesters her and the muscles to chase them off when they do.

Originally Posted by Moxie

+Name :: Edwin Cooper
+Age :: 23
+Country :: Weymouth, England
+Physical Description ::
Edwin stands a little under 6 feet tall. He is a thin man with long features. His legs appear long, as do his arms and torso- this is probably because he is so thin. He has short, dark brown hair that matches the color of his dark brown eyes. His long, beaky nose sits in the center of his face and is quite the attention grabber (his friends mockingly call him Cyrano). His smile is warm and friendly, ending in a pair of dimples. He wears thin rimmed glasses. Both his ears are pierced with a series of plain silver studs- two in the cartilage of each ear and three in the lobes. He also has a pair eyebrow rings in his right eye and a tongue stud. He doesn't have any tattoos- but he does have other piercings that can't be seen when he's clothed.
+Brief Personality ::
Edwin is a bit of a punk. He loves his screaming rock. Though he is a self-proclaimed anarchist, he is actually a really polite and sweet guy. (Just because you want to overthrow the government, doesn't mean that you should be rude to people.) He is also fairly smart and pretty inquisitive. He enjoys reading as much as he enjoys going to concerts and drinking with his friends. He is working on his master's degree in Literature with an emphasis on Post-Modern Authors.

Originally Posted by robotgirl

+Name :: Alice Lions
+Age :: 21
+Country :: New York City, USA
+Physical Description ::
Alice is abrasively pale with bright green eyes, dyed neon pink hair and lucious lips. She's about 5 foot 4 inches tall and is pretty frail to match her height. Her hair is fairly long but she normally puts it up in buns or pigtails, when its worn down it comes down to her mid back. She has VERY small hands and feet. She has a nose ring in the left nostril and two upper ear piercing and one regular ear piercing in each ear. She has a series of solid black feather tattoos on her body - one on her right shoulder, one on her left wrist, and one on her right inner thigh.
+Brief Personality ::
Alice is not a morning person. She loves sleeping in until 2 in the afternoon. She's a night owl - she loves staying up late, she loves going out at night, she's a big fan of playgrounds and puddle jumping. She listens mostly to indie music but appreciates most other types of music. She lives to enjoy life in every moment trying to get the most out of just being.
Prior to being on the show she was working in an exchange program in New Zealand where she took care of sheep on a farm near Auckland in exchange for room and board. She loves travel and aspires to travel across the world teaching English.
She's very loud, very friendly, very random, and a bit childish.

Originally Posted by a l ii b ii

+Name :: John Wyatt Brannen
________» Just call me Jack.
+Age ::
________» Twenty four
+Country ::
________» Niagara Falls, New York, USA

+Physical Description ::
________» No one would ever say that Jack was an athlete in school, or after for that matter. But as he got older and the town got rougher, he figured that it might have been in his best interest. Every morning Jack makes sure to run three miles and every other night he lifts weights. Nothing strenuous, but it's enough to keep his endurance up and his body healthy.

________» Standing at only five feet, ten inches, Jack was never much of an imposing character when he walked into a room. At least not at first. It was his stark looks that drew attention, and his cynical charm that usually held onto it. He had sharp features that hinted at an adolescence spent on the streets covered in tanned skin that tended to feel naked if it was smudged with grease and car grime. His eyes were arrresting on their own. They weren't blue, or gray. Nothing exotic. They were so dark they were nearly black and set nicely with his similarly colored hair always cropped short and messily ruffled.

________» Style may never have been his bag of tricks; he may have been born without it all together, but Jack was never one to particularly care. When he's working around the garage, he's more than likely wearing his grease stained blue workshirt unbuttoned with a white sleeveless underneath, a pair of whatever jeans he happened to have thrown on that morning, well worn work boots, and a pair of safety goggles around his neck. Outside the garage, its pretty much the same, only without the workshirt and goggles. If it's practical and functional, then what the does it matter what it looks like?

+Brief Personality ::
________» "I ain't really out to win any popularity contests. Few of my buddies made a bet one night that I lost. The stakes? I had to apply to this thing. Damned if I thought I'd get in. Not really something I'm lookin forward to, but what can I say? I'm here by mistake, but that doesn't mean I won't play the game. It's the principle of competition. And when it comes to survival, I know what it takes. I'm in it for the long haul and I'm going to outlast everyone else."

Jack doesn't like others, never has gotten along with others. He believes in himself and can be a bit selfish about his own needs at times. He isn't a team player by any stretch of the imagination unless there is some greater purpose to serve himself with in the end of it. Often times he can be seen brooding off by himself over a bottle of Jameson's. Everyone has their demons, some just aren't as vocal about sharing them.

Originally Posted by LillyAnne

+Name :: Jillian
+Age :: 18
+Country :: currently lives in Oklahoma, USA. born in vermont
+Physical Description ::
Jillian is pale with an olive skin tone. She easily tans, and when she is tan, it brings out the features of her dark hair and eyes.She is very pretty with big brown eyes and brown hair that lightens to a reddish tone in the light. She is 5'9 but could be 5'10 if she wouldnt slouch so much. She is a little chubby, but her pretty face and sweet personality distract from the fact. She has big lips and a nice smile. Her nose has a slight arch, from a distant indian relative.
+Brief Personality ::
Jillian is a social butterfly. She loves sports, food, and boys! She is outgoing and loves talking to people. She is pretty and smart but doesnt realize it. She is easily persuaded by others and is somewhat of a chameleon. However she would never get mixed up in the wrong crowd, she has a very stong sense of justice. She is a little self centered but whenever someone is really in need she would be there. She is a good listener and likes it when people trust her with thier secrets. She does give good advice. However, if something is wrong or your upset, she is so busy chatting with everyone in the room she wont notice unless you tell her. When she is upset nothing you can say will make her feel better, she just wants to vent! Inspite of her flaws, People are drawn to her and everyone considers her their bestfriend! Jillian has no idea of what she want to be and just finished highschool. Due to her indecisiveness about college she decides to apply for this game show she read about in the paper. Her family is uncertain of this choice because her two older sisters chose to go to college and are doing very well.

Originally Posted by True Jelly Oh!

+Name :: Sebastian Rodolfo Ferris
+Age :: Twenty-two
+Country :: New Mexico, U.S.A.
+Physical Description ::
Sebastian is six feet tall, and often stands at full height—his posture is always upright, rigidly so, even when he's sitting. He is dark-skinned with short, curly black hair, and dark brown eyes. His clothing is always simple and modest. He does have one tattoo—a rose, on the upper-left part of his shoulder—which he keeps hidden as much as he possibly can; not because it looks bad, but because of the fact that he doesn't remember half of the night he had it done.
+Brief Personality ::
Sebastian is known to be conservative, professional, and—quite frankly—a prude most of the time, with all the beliefs a slightly over-sheltered Catholic boy should have. He is studious and tries not to concern himself with things that will distract him from his work and schooling. "Tries" is the key word there. For, despite his best efforts, Sebastian is rather easily tempted and just as easily manipulated. It's gotten him into a few more alcohol-related messes than he'd like to confess.
He doesn't like acknowledging these incidents, and often gets defensive or panicky about them. Of course, that's generally how he reacts to any uncomfortable situation.

Originally Posted by Darkfae

+Name :: Camille Belusan
+Age :: 20
+Country :: Russia
+Physical Description ::
Camille is tall and willowy, standing at 5'10" yet weighing only 125 pounds, her mother dreams of the day that Camille will become a runway model; Camille, however, feels that she's too thin, and is trying to gain weight, much to her mother's dismay.
Daughter of an Irish woman and a Russian man, Camille was blessed - or cursed - with fair skin that doesn't really tan all that well. Her eyes are bright green with a bit of blue to them around the center, and are just slightly too large for her face, but she uses make up to try and hide that, and mostly succeeds.
Her hair is a mixture of red and brown, the brown more dominant than the red, which makes the latter look more like highlights most of the year, however given enough sun, the red becomes a lot more noticeable as the brown lightens. Although it looks better down, Camille tends to pull her hair back into a ponytail or a fishbone braid.
Camille prefers to wear casual clothing in greens, blues, whites, and blacks but often ends up wearing casual clothing mixed with a bit more upscale clothing.

((Image made with MAC, eyes and hair not exact.))
+Brief Personality ::
While Camille's mother would die and go to heaven if her little girl became a runway model - or any kind of model - Camille lacks the confidence necessary for such a career. In fact, she's quite awkward, and doesn't really see why her mother thinks she'd make such a great model, as she lacks any sort of grace.
If she could have her way, without the incessant nagging from her mother, Camille would prefer to focus on her painting and becoming a playwright. She has a passion for theatre, but with her lack of confidence, she's taken a behind-the-scenes approach to the world of the stage, using her skills as an artist to do set design for now.
Creativity, unfortunately, tends to make one a little eccentric. It also tends to make one quite spacey, due to zoning out while thinking of current and new projects. This is something that often happens to Camille, and when she realises she's done so, it only makes her more shy, nervous and introverted.
However...get her talking about her arts, and she will become quite animated and excited, speaking quickly while "talking with her hands" to add emphasis to her words.

Originally Posted by PrincessKasumi

+Name :: Syris Kei Hsuragi
+Age :: 18
+Country :: Kyoto, Japan

+Physical Description ::
In our other corner of the ring, the opponent! Standing at five foot seven, and weighing at one-hundred and forty-one pounds! I give you the Dominator! <inserts applause and screams>... yeah right. I'm no wrestler, I'm just me. Which may not be much to you. But that's besides the point, I have light skin, with a gold undertone. On the contrary my eyes are not like slits, but they do appear smaller then those in the western hemisphere. My eyes are just like everyone else, except slanted, or the appearance of a slant. The color of my eyes are a dark brown, but when the sun light hits them, they are light. My hair is short but not long enough to be consider long. Most of it stops at my jaw, but the further you get to my neck its shorter. My hair roots are dark brown/black, but most of it is medium brown with brown mixed in. Part of my bangs on the left side of my head are a light gold brown color. My eye brows are a medium brown, not a dark color like the root of my hair.
I have an average build, meaning I may be skinny but I'm not thin. And just because I'm skinny doesn't mean I can't be buff, not that I am but I do have some muscle tone. On my left hand I wear a silver celtic ring on my middle finger. And the designs are very intricate. I wear a black roped necklace that stops short of my clavicle. Attached to it is a medium sized circle with another circle inside. Two thin silver lines connect the circles from the top and bottom. And inside the small circle is a clear gem, called a Quartz Crystal (Clear). And the circles rest in the middle of my clavicle.

+Brief Personality ::
Syris is fairly Independent, but when he wants he can and will be dependent on others. Ever since he was young he had a thing for Art, all kinds of Art not just Traditional. Since all children all quite creative, he had a certain nack for drawing the best stick figures he could. As he grew older his Artwork progressed. He can be pretty silent half the time, which makes him sneaky. It's not like he means to walk up behind someone and they turn around and get scared because he just poofed out of nowhere when they were sure he was no where near them. Unlike most, or probably half of everyone he works quite well under pressure. Syris can be quite a perservant (persistent) little guy, as well as patient. He also has quite a retentive memory, where he can retain information and knowledge quite easily. In conclusion, he can be a pretty nice guy to hang around with.

Originally Posted by mephistas

+Name :: Maria Alvarez
+Age :: 20
+Country :: Acayucan, Veracruz, Mexico.

+Physical Description ::
Despite having two parents who, on American standards, aren't the best looking, Maria turned out to be quite the exotic beauty. What's so attractive about her is hard to pinpoint, however.. Her face is oval-shaped, her chin and jaw angled softly against a thin neck. Her lips are plump, a medium shade of pink against her medium-tinted brown skin. Her eyes are round and, actually, not too dark; they're a nice rich, caramel color, flecks of gold littered throughout and especially showing in the sunlight. They are perhaps her best feature; they are quite pretty. Her hair is black and smooth, more wavy than it is curly. It reaches down to the middle of her back, though it is usually drawn back into a loose, low-sitting ponytail.

At 5'4'', her body-shape is lightly plump and curvy, her frame pear-shaped. She's plump to the point that she just looks healthy. Her bust is average in size. Her hands and feet are quite small, her nails long and healthy.

Clothing-wise, Maria is quite bohemian, her overall look similar to a gypsy style. Peasant skirts are her absolute favorite, the colors and patterns depicted on the light fabrics sometimes reflecting her Mexican heritage and even a bit of Indian influence. Paired with different types of tops from camisoles, ethnic tops and regular tees, layers are her favorite. She may choose to wear a light shawl, scarf, or poncho, along with several different beaded and woven accessories. Her footware varies as well; one day she may wear ankle-wrap sandals, and the next may be flip flops.

When it comes to piercings or tats, Maria has a few. She has several piercings in each ear, different numbers on each. On one ear, her left, she has a total of six, two of which being the holes for an industrial. On her right she has three, and she has the right side of her nose pierced, as well. These are usually decorated with jeweled or beaded studs, save for the industrial, which has a barbell in place. She has two tattoos, including a flowered henna tattoo raising from the top of her left foot to around her ankle and up the front of her shin. The other is a matching floral henna glove on her right hand.

+Brief Personality ::
Maria is very soft spoken. Many believe this is because she knows very little english when, in fact, she is pretty fluent for someone who has only actually been in the United States a few times. She speaks with an accent, heavy unless she is really concentrating, and every so often may ask "how do you say such-and-such?" She isn't used to socialization too much, which will make this trip particularly difficult on her. When she does speak it's normally about something she is passionate about, and she may even venture into hour-long conversations. She's not particularly loud, her volume at a medium level.

In general she is a very nice and loving person, though not many see this side of her. Her expression usually depicts a sad, distant person, while inside her head her thoughts are constantly winding around how she can improve herself and please others. She doesn't get close to many because of her distance, but when she does she may become slightly clingy and dependent on their actions.

Maria isn't very sure about how she got herself onto this show. Her brother called her one day from Los Angeles, mentioning the show and inviting her to come take a look.. She headed to Los Angeles after her ticket was bought, and somehow she made it. Her elder brother, who she always looked up to and adored, told her it would be a good learning experience for her. She, however, is very anxious and unsure.

Originally Posted by ~Prototipo-Annette~

+Name :: 清水 心 [Kiyomizu Shin]
+Age :: 22
+Country :: Japan [Tenri, Nara Prefecture]

+Physical Description ::
Though Shin lives somewhat out of the way, he still manages to get a hold of the latest trends. His favorite jacket, which he most always wears, is made of well-worn black leather in the style of a typical motorcycle jacket, with a few solid colored pins decorating the front with large holes torn artistically in the back of the elbows. Another common item that you'll always see him wearing are his knee-high black combat boots- sized to fit a girl but just right for his small feet- over his pants. Most of his tee-shirts are a single, bright, solid color most often green, yellow, pink or black and he has a tendency to wear at least three necklaces at a time. For pants, Shin sticks with fake leather or black denim, as his budget can't afford real leather except for his jacket, which is a hand-me-down from his elder brother, meaning that it's a bit too big for him. His last accessory is a black studded collar which he wears just as often as his boots and jacket.

Shin's hair itself is a piece of work on its own. While he was born with a head of black hair like almost everyone else in Japan, his is cut incredible short and hasn't been black for the past seven years since his parents caved into his demands. How he wears it now is cut incredibly short at a high that's a bit taller than the traditional buzz cut. This short fuzz of hair he wears in a mess of small spikes, but that's not all. Since his discovery of hair dye at the age of fifteen, Shin has made a habit of dyeing his hair in various bright, neon colors usually changing the color about once a week or every other week depending on his mood and how well the dye job went over.

Another thing to note about Shin is that he's relatively tiny, and that- no matter how often he dresses like a Punk- it is quite obvious. At five foot three, he's far below average height for a grown male and his baby face doesn't help the matter one bit. Not to mention, he has practically no muscular build and spent most of his high school days being pushed around by punks at a school that wasn't even prestigious enough to have more than three pleats in the skirts of the girls' uniforms. Even so, Shin does his best to make up for his stature in what little ways he can- his boots sport a two inch platform. As if to try and look tough, he also wears an earring, or more-so a pair. In his left earlobe is a simple stud with a thin chain attaching it to a cuff on his ear. While it seems tough at first, he actually chose the placement- left ear or right- by an old standard in the 90s; right meant you were straight, left meant you were gay.

Last but no least are the final basic facts. Shin's angular eyes- normal for a Japanese person- are a deep shade of brown, though he enhances the size of his irises through the use of circle lenses. His skin is almost paper pale, and never seems to tan even in the brightest of sunlight.

+Brief Personality :: A big fan of Gackt and L'Arc~en~Ciel, Shin has developed into somewhat of a rock loving mini-punk. While he does indeed have almost no respect for authorities and started smoking when he wasn't of legal age, he really is a sweet person who couldn't even harm a fly. What really gets him into trouble are his anti-government views, spunky personality and unending sarcasm. If Shin has something to say that you don't want to hear, he'll say it, and it won't come out nice at all. Needless to say, he has a mind of his own and no limiters telling

"Are we ready? Okay, guys, seriously! Are we ready to go on yet? ARE THEY EVEN HERE?"

A tall, lightly muscular man stood just off of the dock, his board shorts and open button-up rippling in the wind from offshore. His hair, lightly blond and streaked with gold from hours in the sun, moved in magestic strokes. Everything about him seemed to be perfect; hot surfer male with perfectly straight, white teeth, and a tan to make the ladies jealous. They had done so on purpose; what television viewer wanted to see anything other than a gorgeous male bombshell hosting the newest reality television show? Yeah, maybe if it was Wheel of Fortune...

"Stu," one of his camera men started, his shades gleaming in the sun as he motioned to see. Stu glanced back to see the boat, a small luxury yacht filled with (hopefully) people-contestants, moving past the other side of the island.

"Are you rolling? WHY AREN'T YOU ROLLING YET?"

"Okay, okay, ready in 3.. 2.. 1.."

After a short moment, the camera began shooting the yacht, which seemed to move much slower than Stu had hoped. Yet he began his speech, rehearsed a million times before.. "Ten contestants.. All coming to live together on one island, away from civilization.." The camera slid gently from the boat and onto Stu, focusing on his rock-hard abs for a moment before sliding to his face. "Stu Connely here, your host for this daring spectacle. Will anyone make it? That's up for you --" he said, pointing into the camera -- "to watch and find out! This is SURVIVING SOLITUDE!"



On the boat, the contestants were huddled onto the deck for the directors to brief them. After a round of drinks of expensive taste, they're sent on their way to grab their things from the cabin downstairs.. "Meet back here in ten minutes!" One of them, a woman of thirty with a long brown ponytail, called after them..

"...and that is why I am a Marxist not some Marxist-Leninist fascist-wack-job. You see the difference between the two?" Edwin slammed the remainder of his whiskey. He wasn't used to the good stuff and he knew it would probably be his last drink for a long while. He peered at the poor person he had cornered, his many piercings catching the light. His discourse had been clear, concise, polite. He had even kept his swearing to a minimum.

He didn't know these people after all.

His jeans actually didn't have any holes in them for once, but his steel toes had definitely seen better days. His shirt was old, but hole free with 'Neon Blonde' on the front from a concert back in the days when he was first getting into his punk rock. The plain silver rings in most of his piercings drew some attention away from his large beak-like protrusion on his face (otherwise called his nose) but not much. "You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?" he asked in his British accented English. The poor crew hand stared back at him blankly.

Edwin sighed, then grinned, showing off a pair of incongruent dimples. His dark brown hair was sans glue today and only sticking up oddly in sections. He rubbed at the back of his head and shrugged as the poor boy backed slowly away from him, obviously confused.

With a sigh, Edwin went and procured himself another shot of whiskey- or a glassful really. He looked around the group of people he would be spending the extraordinary amounts of time with. He mildly contemplated which ones would be the easiest to convert to the anarchist philosophy while sipping his whiskey. He suddenly wished he had brought his iPod. He sighed and began to walk over to one of the girls.

Maria didn't know about this one.. What the hell had she -- no, no, her BROTHER -- gotten her into? Not only was she on her way to some deserted island out in the middle of who-knows-where, she was to be completely dependent on total strangers.. She was not one to depend on people she was around constantly, let alone strangers! She was shaking, not only from the cold of the salty sea air against her skin, but from fear. She didn't know what she was going to do..

Caramel eyes scanned the briefing deck, paying attention to what the crew had been explaining but not necessarily taking anything in. She didn't need to know anything they were telling her, she knew that. All she wanted to know was how to get home!

A hand, decorated with a floral henna-stain tattoo, removed a strand of curly black hair that had blown into her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes looked down momentarily, to her brown shorts and oversized peasant shirt, laid over a black tank. Her ankle-wrap sandals, embroidered with multi-colored beads, provided little protection against the slight cold from the wind -- in fact, her entire outfit didn't protect her much. But it, she decided, would be best fit for when they actually got onto the island.. it would be hot, right?

Maybe I should actually socialize,she thought, pursing her lips. She glanced back to the others, huddled mainly toward the center of the deck, while she was standing off to the side. She knew, then, that she would be an outsider, whether she liked it or not. She just wasn't used to that sort of thing! It irked her, but it was her fault in the first place. Her brother had told her long ago to lighten up, but for some reason she had never taken her advice.. Maybe she'd start on this trip. She'd probably need it.

The boy was still disturbed that one of the crew actually thought he was a girl. Shivering at the thought, he walked to the edge of the boat, on deck and leaned against the railing. He had some time to spare before he had to get his things from his cabin below, so he decided to to go look around outside. He could see the Island everyone was going to be on, he couldn't see the house yet but. Once the boat moved around to the other side where the dock was he was sure he might be able to see it then. He didn't know why he was here really, he wasn't too fond of reality shows. Well that's not exactly true, he likes them.. he just doesn't love them like everyone else seems to. He heard some people talking, followed by laughter and then something sort of like a command.

"Oi! Chotto kocchi kite!" Some called out, Syris looked around to see someone looking at him.
"Eh?" He said, pointing a finger at himself.
"Hai" Waving the young boy over to the groups' table.

"Dochira kara kimashitaka?" He asked the boy, while Syris made his way over.
"Kyoto desu" He responded, and asked his own question. "Eigo da dekimasuka?"

"Oh, yes I speak I English. I just find it more comfortable to speak our native laanguage. So what brings you here?" The guy asked Syris, after his buddies left to go find something to do. Syris took an empty seat across from the man. "I was persuaded to come, and this seems like it would be interesting. Besides I'm always up for a challenge and Adventure." He raised a hand to move his bangs out of his eyes and to the side. "I see.. It seems we have a few who have the same reasons why their here. So tell me, what do you think of this yacht?" Syris took a moment to think before he replied, "It is..how do you say it? Nice.. it looks pretty good even though it is much smaller then those I've seen on my way onto the boat." The man grinned, and offered him a drink. Syris eyed it, this was the second time somone has offered him Alcohol. He raised his hand and politely shook his head. "No thanks, don't drink."

"Suit yourself then, kid." Pouring hisself a glass, and stood up while drinking. "Well, see you later I got some work to do, nice seeing you. Ja ne." And with that he left Syris by himself at the table with the bottle of wine. He stared at it for a moment before moving it to another table. The breeze was bit cool, it was almost relaxing to him. He scanned all the guest on the yacht til his eyes landed on someone who seemed like an outcast, while everyone was in the front of the ship. Although, some were already down stairs gettin their things ready. Time was ticking, so he got up and decided to walk over and introduce himself. Might as well get to know these people since they'll be stranded together for a long time together. But before he walked over to her he fixed his black button up satin dress shirt (untucked), because it was a bit ruffled from the breeze. You could see that where the light hit it, it was a bit more shiny in some places. The collar button and the first two were left unbuttoned, because it wasn't that cold. Stuffing his hands in his white jeaned pockets he looked down at his black converse shoes before looking up when he reached her.

Once he leaned on the rail, he looked over to her, and asked in a slight accent "Hey, what you doing over here all by yourself?"

Despite the alcohol beginning to flow hours before, Camille still nursed her first drink as she slowly walked up and down the deck, the long fingers of one hand brushing over the railing more for guidance then for actual stability. She hadn't been able to eat much in days due to her nerves, and she was intelligent enough to know that drinking on an empty stomach was not a good idea - especially with with lay ahead.

"...how did I ever let Mother talk me into this?" she thought, listening to the voices of the other contestants and crew, well aware that her accent was going to stick out like a sore thumb whenever she got around to speaking.

Camille would have never entered herself into any sort of contest that wasn't related to art or the stage, so she had been exceedingly confused when the information package from Surviving Solitude had arrived; it didn't take long for her to figure out that her mother had entered her, but it was too late by then - the same day Camille got her information packet, her mother had the paper announce that the girl was going to be on a reality TV show.

The suburb they lived in had been so excited, that Camille felt guilty about wanting to decline. Everywhere she went over the next few days, people were congratulating her, giving her pointers based on other reality TV shows they had seen, and their excitement was impossible to ignore. After reading through the information, Camille decided to go through with the show - especially after reading that they would be on a secluded island...where her mother wouldn't be able to contact her...

She shook her head, a few wispy tendrils of red escaping from their binds to flutter on the ocean breeze. She continued walking along the deck back towards their rooms, nodding to the earthy woman with the henna tattoos as she passed her.

"... I hope I brought enough sunblock," she thought as she slipped into her cabin after the ten minute warning sounded, quickly gathering up her messenger bag and small rolling carry-on.

Adjusting the wide-brimmed hat on her head, then the dark sunglasses, Camille stepped back out onto the deck and made her way over to the woman who had given them the ten minute call.

_____A rapidly dimming cigarette was given one last draw between loosely parted lips that were held in no particular expression before the dying butt was cast over the side of the slow moving yacht with a flick of the wrist. It bounced once off the side of the vessel as the rippling wind caught it and forced it back too late. From behind the safety of the railing, John Brannen watched the demise of his last cancer stick, watched the waves swallow it up. He didn't move off right away from where he stood leaning over the banister with elbows supporting his weight and one foot resting on the lower cross section, but instead raised his gaze to look down the side of the boat towards the island they approached. The beginning of the game. Politics, cliques, and drama. It was like high school all over again. Well. High school with camera crews and stranded on an island.

_____Turning to head back to the briefing area, Jack shrugged into his half sleeve white button up and left it open. It wasn't his normal style, that was for sure, but it was bound to be warm at the island and he didn't fancy wearing his heavy grease stained work shirt. He also left the torn stained jeans at home, wearing ripped cargo shorts instead that came just to his knees. He slipped back into his standard Walmart brand, two-buckled, brown sandals. He felt foreign in his own skin. He wasn't used to warm weather. Wasn't used to these clothes or to cameras and playing nice.

_____This was going to be interesting. Jack came around the corner and glanced around at some of the people he'd be spending time with for... God. He'd already forgotten how long they'd said it would be. Callused hands from long hours in a mechanic shop ran through espresso toned hair and ruffled it to relieve the itch already developing under his scalp. Maybe there was someone like him there, though he doubted it. Didn't they usually try and pick as many walks of life as they could for these things? Who knew.


"Let's get this thing rolling, already. I hate boats." he murmured lowly to himself and adjusted his worn braided leather belt- about the only thing on him that wasn't new. The fact that he hated boats wasn't all that relevant to anyone in ear shot. But he was sick of being there. He hated sitting still.

Edwin meandered over to the other guy who looked nearly as rumpled as he did. He watched wistfully as the man crushed out his cigarette. Edwin had forced himself to quit when he heard he'd been picked for the show. He hadn't yet even given up carrying the zippo his dad gave him at their first concert together. but, he knew that a two pack a day habit wasn't going to be feasible in the middle of nowhere.

It was the roughest week of his life. Except maybe that time he drank a bottle of whiskey an got in a fight at that Radio Suicide concert and left with a broken nose and torn ear. That had been a pretty bad couple of weeks too.

At first he had been concerned that he would be surrounded by only bubbly girls hoping to be the next big movie star- he knew how these reality shows worked. He had been sort of surprised that he was chosen- he knew he was no great looker. He figured he was there to either add some strife, comic relief or attitude. He was betting on the latter. He also knew that he would likely be able to pay for the rest of his tuition through the doctorate he wanted if he was successful on the show. Besides, he liked turning preconceived notions about people on their head. Most people took one look at him and thought he was an uneducated, rude knob. Maybe he was a bit of a knob- but he tried very to be neither uneducated nor rude.

He turned his glass of whiskey over in his hand, taking a swallow.

"...I hate boats." he heard the chap who had been smoking.

"Could be worse," Edwin said, "We could be at a Michael Buble concert. Least there isn't some berk crooning on the deck." Edwin chuckles, drinking some more of his whiskey. "You a yank?"

Somehow, Maria's mind drifted to her brother. He was twenty-nine, a father and a husband. Though he owned and operated an auto body and paint shop, he was completely enveloped by his television. That's how he got her into the predicament in the first place. He had been watching television and saw the advertisement, and at first had wanted to volunteer himself. After finding out his wife was pregnant with their third child, that all changed.. So, Maria was next in line. He bought her a ticket to Los Angeles, got her to fill out the paperwork..

And now she was on her way to some random island.

Her thoughts were interrupted and her eyes flickered a moment before focusing on the man that approached her, and her brows raised in almost alarm. She hadn't actually thought anyone would come over to her, unless they were one of the crew members there to bark orders at her or something. But there he was, speaking to her. She didn't know his name, thanks to her not paying attention either way, and so a moment was taken to study him. He was nicely dressed, she noticed in her brief looksie, attractive in his own way and, quite noticeably, asian. By the way he carried himself he seemed quite confident, and though she already knew she wouldn't bark out complete sentences in his direction, he seemed worthy enough.

Her eyes slid to his face and studied that as well for a moment, before she looked out to the water about the yacht. "Dingking," she finally said, her voice laced with accent. If she cared enough to further her explanation of what she was doing, she may have paid attention to steadying her vocals to a more understandable level. But what difference did one word make?

A strong gust of wind blew past the vessel, causing Maria's long, wavy-curly black hair to spread out even more from its ponytail, splaying about her shoulders just so. Her hair, so thick and majestic, made her seem so wild in appearance. In fact, her appearance in general, with her bold clothing choices and exotic-ness, gave her an air of carefree bliss. The fact that she was so quiet instead of rowdy and obnoxious was odd, especially when compared to even her brother and parents. They were your stereotypical hispanic bunch, loud and not caring how many blocks of people heard their festivities. Even around them she didn't speak much.. Her brother joked when they were younger that she was adopted.



MEANWHILE, the crew was bringing all of their equipment out onto the deck for unloading once they made it to the dock. Cameras, cords, lights, microphones, and random crap with price tags over the value of each individual there were carefully loaded up at the edge. The woman from before was barking orders, the "stage manager" of sorts in that particular time. The yacht momentarily was staying a bit away from the dock, to make sure that they were ready for them to head in.

Camille watched the crew moving everything, taking note in her head of what all equipment they had, and what things were similar to the theatre equipment she was familiar with. The cameras were only vaguely familiar, however most of the lighting and sound equipment was almost the same as the types she had used.

Sighing, she looked over at the rest of the 'cast', noticing that people were already starting to move into their own little groups. She sat down next to her rolling carry-on, and pulled out a medium sized sketchbook from her messenger bag; if they were going to stay away from the island, she was going to take the chance to draw it. It only vaguely occurred to her that she could use her sketching to make maps, though the idea was forming beneath her thoughts of the island itself.

Her messenger bag was still on her shoulder, so that she could be ready at a moment's notice, since the "stage manager" struck her as a woman who didn't like to be kept waiting. Absently, she wished she was a part of the crew rather than a contestant, but she never quite made the leap from theatrical tech to film tech.

When will we ever get to this darn Island! Jillian thought, pulling herself up from the bathroom floor. She had been enjoying the boat ride until about twenty minutes into the trip, upon which she became very sea sick. She wanted to get to know the people that she would soon be living with, but that wasn’t possible with her intense nausea. Jillian heard the ten minute call; she quickly swigged some mouth wash and splashed cool water on her face. "Ok, time to get going" she said to herself, as she pulled her belongings together.

Jillian was excited about her acceptance on the show, but her mother and father were anxious to let her go. They tried several times to persuade their daughter to decline the position. Jillian’s parents were set on the idea of their children finishing high school and getting a college degree. They had a plan for her life, only Jillian wasn’t so sure of this "plan". Jillian knew that her parents meant well, but, stubborn in her ways, she had a few ideas of her own. A few weeks after she graduated from high school, Jillian read in her local paper that there were auditions for a reality show in a neighboring city. She quickly jumped at the chance to get away from home. She needed the ability to have some time to think her life out. Maybe she didn’t want to go to college? Jillian didn’t know. All she DID know was that she needed some time to think and this show gave her that opportunity.

Jillian was ready for the swaying in her head to stop and wished for the solid ground of the Island. She picked up her backpack and checked her appearance in the mirror. Jillian looked herself up and down through skeptical eyes, her dark blue jeans was paired with a light pink T shirt dress trimmed in green and converse. Maybe not the most appropriate attire for a deserted island? Hey, at least Ill have options Jillian thought to herself, as she began making her way back to the crowd of people. Jillian plopped her things down by a railing and looked out over the sea, her long brown curly hair fluttering in the wind. The cool ocean air washed over her body, it felt good against her skin and the feeling of nausea slightly subsided. She could see the island in the distance, It looks very peaceful she noted. "This trip started out kinda rough, but I bet this is going to be fun," Jillian muttered to herself.

((No one has posted in a bit... So I thought it would be ok to try and move things along :) . ))

Jillian brushed her hair out of her face as she continued to look out over the ocean, toward the Island. She felt her lips becoming dry, and turned to her bags for aide. As she shuffled through her things in search of lip balm, she looked around the boat at her fellow cast mates letting her eyes drift from one member to the other. What an interesting group Jillian noticed as she continued digging. "AHAH! Here it is," she said a little too loudly. Jillian blushed as she looked around the room, to see if anyone noticed. Well, Might as well make some friends before we get on this Island. Jillian carelessly left her belongings by the side of the boat and looked to see who she would approach first. As she searched, Jillian saw one of the girls and she had henna on her hands. That is so cool! I wonder if she would teach me how to do that! Jillian thought as she meandered over.

"Hello, My name is Jillian pleased to meet you," she said holding out her hand. "I don't know anybody yet, so I thought I would introduce myself." Jillian then noticed the asian boy next to her and realized she had interrupted a conversation. "WHoops! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Nice to meet you both," she said, as she took a step back. "So, um, What are both of your names?" Jillian wondered. She then remembered the pack of gum in her pocket and reached for it. She fished a stick out and popped it in her mouth. "Do either of you want one?" She asked, feeling rude. I probably should have offered one to them first, Oh well. You win some you loose some, She thought as she held out the pack of Big Red. "I have some other flavors in my bag, If you prefer a different kind?"

He wanted for her to answer, after a few seconds she looked away from him and told him she was drinking. "Drinking hmm? Well... it's always better to drink with someone." He told her just as a breeze came by and displaced more of her wavy-curly black hair out of its ponytail and onto her shoulders. It somehow made her seem so wide, and yet majestic looking. When he was going to say something else, some other girl came up and introduced herself. He offered up a smile when the girl; Jillian-- had finally noticed him. "Oh, it's quite alright. It's nice to meet you..uh, Jillian. Sorry if I said it wrong." He told her bowing slightly. Then straightened out as she asked their names. But before he could say anything Jillian was already reaching into her backpack and pulling out some gum. "I'm..." He started when she asked if they wanted some gum.

"Sure, I'll have some. And my name is Hsuragi Syris...er you can call me Syris." He had almost forgot that over here in the west they said their first names first and then their last. And also that they didn't call each other by their last names even if they were strangers, or weren't that close.

Malachite green eyes blinked in confusion. Suza felt weird with the make-up that had been caked onto her face. She never saw the point in make-up and it was difficult to keep from rubbing her eyes, so instead she straightened her Red Sox jersey and shoved her hands into her pockets, before looking for someone she could socialize with. The girls on the deck, at least weren't half as dull-witted as some of the chicks from her hometown were, but she never seemed to get along well with her own gender. Part of the reason was from living most of her life with her four older brothers and her dad, but the rest was all her. She loved sports, video games, wrestling, cars, and anything that wasn't cute or frilly, other that being a fellow female she could never find anything in common with the girls around her. She'd tried to make friends with a couple of them when she was younger, but a sleeping party that had went horribly wrong had left her as the odd one out.

So as Suza glanced around the boat she stopped her search when she saw two men conversing. One, she could tell was a mechanic, she'd learned all the obvious signs of one from her second oldest brother. The other one was “full of holes,” as her dad would've said, but she'd learned long ago that the toughest looking ones always had a soft spot. She walked over to them and waited for them to stop talking before she introduced herself, “Hi, I'm Suza Dazefield.” She gave a friendly smile, and crossed her arms around her stomach. In all truth she wanted to just lean back and relax while chatting with her brothers over a beer, but being underage and in public she'd had to settle with a IBC Rootbeer if she wanted something to drink. Too lazy to go get herself one she grabbed a bar stool and moved it over to where the two guys were.

“I hope you two don't mind me joining in on yawl's conversation.” The country accent she'd been hiding escaped near the end of her sentence. She shrugged it off, it wasn't a big secret she just hated how people liked to pick at her southern drawl. If anyone did though, she didn't mind getting sent home for knocking some teeth in.

Camille had finished her sketch of the island, listening to the growing conversations around the deck as the wind snatched their words and brougth them to her ears. Absently, she began to sketch out each of the other contestants, unaware that on paper she was grouping them together in different cliques; these cliques only vaguely resembled the ones on deck at the moment.

The woman paused to adjust the wide-brimmed sleek hat, covering more of her face and upper body with shadow as she slid a little bit to one side, settling into the shifting shadows the crew's equipment made along the deck as she mentally cursed her Irish parent.

She finally began to add herself into the image of the island, standing near the center of the beach, between several cliques but not noticeably within any of them. Camille had friends in so many different groups of people, yet never quite fit into those groups entirely, so she always drew herself as a part of people but still noticeably away from them.

Her eyes flicked over the equipment, and she began adding some of it into the sketch, drawing the crew as if they were made entirely of shadows, creating an almost monstrous connotation around the edges of her drawing.

When she finally finished her drawing and put her pencils back in their case, she looked closer at it, frowning slightly at the results. She looked down at her drink, then back at the image, wanting to blame the alcohol on her perceptions yet knowing she hadn't even finished a single drink yet.

Glancing around to assure herself that no one had been paying too close of attention, she quickly shut the sketchbook and slid it back into her bag before standing back up and edging closer to the crew and the "stage manager".

A sigh escaped Maria's lips, and she looked to the asian man in the corner of her eye, her chin remaining pointed toward the sea. It was often that her accent caused others to mistake her words; however, she did not have anything on her that would even remotely point to her drinking. Sure she enjoyed some liquor every now and again, but she hadn't had any in nearly a day...

As she was going to correct him, paying attention to drawing out her syllables and enunciating as she should, they were met by a woman who seemed much too overly chatty for Maria's tastes. Maria, the shy one who only seemed to ever want to listen to others speak instead of talking, actually didn't enjoy chatterboxes. Though with this woman she decided to give her the benefit of the doubt; maybe she had pre-show jitters, maybe she was nervous in general.. but, just maybe, she just liked to talk. When asked her name, Maria was not one to be impolite by not answering; though she was quiet, she was polite. "Maria." It was a stereotypical hispanic name, and so Maria hated her name. However, she couldn't think of any nickname to rid herself of it -- Mary, Ria, Ri-Ri, it was all childish -- and so she was stuck.

She shook her head when offered gum, golden eyes returning to the sea. Can't they hurry this along? she thought, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly in light sigh. It was bad enough she had to be on the show in the first place -- were they going to take up THAT much of her time? She wanted to just get it over with.



[[ooc // I guess I'm going to make all the NPC-stuff happen in red font. That way it catches everyone's eye and you know where to look for it. :3 ]]


Stu tapped his fingers along the side of his leg, his toe in rhythm with it against the dock. His camerman was on the walky-talky, speaking to the crew on the boat, trying to figure out when they would be arriving. "Stu," he chimed, grabbing the host's attention. "They'll be docking any minute."

"Finally!" Stu's thin lips grinned with excitement at the oncoming opportunity to show his face on camera. "Where are they going to be?"

"The next dock over."

"...then why the HELL are we here?!"

"I don't know! That's where they told us to --"

"WHY are we wasting time? Let's go!"

Stu's crew grabbed their equipment and they all headed to the dock, one much longer than the one they'd been standing on. The ship wasn't overly large to require a lock thing, but it added a bit more "drama", they said.


Back on the boat, Ms. Manager made her way on the deck, a messenger bag packed to the brim hanging from one shoulder. "Okay, everyone! We're going to be docking any time now! If you don't have your things now, you better go grab them!" Her voice, booming and eardrum-shattering, had a twinge of nervous vibratto. If things didn't go just right...

The ship approached the dock, Stu's crew just beginning to set up once again. The boat's crew also prepared for a move. They'd been randomly shooting the contestants as they meandered about, and a few continued while the others prepared. They'd need footage, regardless.

Camille nearly jumped out of her skin with the stage manager began yelling, and her eyes moved between the crew, the other contestants and the quickly approaching long dock before catching a look at the smaller dock that the second crew was hurrying off of.

Shaking her head at having the longer of the two walks, Camille waited and positioned herself somewhere near the middle of the contestants as they readied to dock and depart - she had no desire to be the first off of the yacht, nor the last as either position gave way to a chance of being singled out by the camera and held as a center of attention.

"...he looks like a Ken doll," she muttered when her eyes moved over the host, rolling her eyes as she pushed up the large sunglasses she was wearing. Shaking her head, she quickly checked over her belongings to make sure she had everything, even though it was the tenth or eleventh time since they neared the island that she had done so.

While Shin did live in a country that was surrounded by islands, he'd actually never been on a boat before and had actually never even seen one this decadent. Because of that not-so-little factor, the brown eyed boy found himself clinging to the railing for dear life, sports bag of junk over his shoulder. He'd yet to acquire his "sea legs" and the two inch platforms on his boots weren't helping the matter very much. Thus far, he'd pretty much spent the trip stumbling around where he absolutely needed to go and staying completely stationary otherwise. It wasn't exactly in his plans to be the only idiot sent home for injuring themself, and not mention it would also make him the only idiot in game show history to be sent home before even properly joining the show. Oh, please stop rocking, he begged the boat in his mind; it wasn't in Shin's intention to succumb to sea sickness for the seventh time that trip.

Shifting his weight from his right foot to his left, Shin did a quick little reflection on just what crazy events must have occurred to end him placed on a boat that was quickly becoming his idea of Hell, not that he even believed in such a place. He was Shinto, like a good percentage of Japan, and didn't exactly believe the Christian principles, though he'd heard them before. Being gay put him in enough of a delicate social situation as things were- he'd been beaten up at least six times before he climb back into the closet- so he didn't bother paying much heed to minority religions. Oh, that was it, Shin realized, somehow tracing his lack of Christian faith back to the reason he was currently on a yacht, It was that stupid advertisement. It'd been a regular day like any other, watching television with his twelve year old sister. It was during the commercial break between the first and second half of a Save The Princess rerun starring some Morning Musume member that his sister cared bout more than he did. One of the advertisements had been talking about auditions for a new game show set on an island and his sister had been enthralled. Sadly, she was too young, so Shin offered to go for her and bring back all sorts of ideas. Apparently, Amai thought that watching her brother on television was just the same as being on television herself. Though Shin almost backed out when he'd heard he was accepted- after all, he thought he'd just flunk the audition and satisfy his sister with that- but his nagging parents pushed him to accept. They were still mad from the time when he brought home his first boyfriend...

Pushing those thoughts aside, Shin tuned grudgingly back into reality. Oh, what he'd give to be back at home with his adorable little sister. He'd rather listen to her signing along with all her Momusu CDs first thing in the morning than be on this dreadful boat. While he didn't exactly mind his sister's sweet little voice- a perfect match to the meaning of her name- it was the J-pop style music he disliked. With his favorite jacket tucked deep in his bag where he couldn't get at it, Shin was left shivering in a thin, florescent blue tee-shirt- a slight contrast to his highlight green hair. While his pants did a pretty good job of keeping him insulated from the waist on down, it didn't help much with anything. Amai, when I get home I'm never watching reality TV with you again, he vowed silently, though he didn't exactly blame his sister. After all, being on TV was suppose to be a fun experience, right? Wrong. Absolutely incorrect. All Shin could focus on now was his own misery and all the nights of clubbing he would miss. Maybe I'll try and score tickets to a Gackt concert with the money I get off this. The thought of seeing his favorite artist and celebrity crush live in concert brought a small smile and a faint blush to the boy's face.

Looking up, Shin noted that they were approaching the dock. Scurrying forward in a bumbling manner, he managed to squeeze himself onto the outer edge of the crow close to the middle by some girl who looked Russian. Silently, he hoped that the camera would get a good shot of him, and that he wouldn't look too sea sick on film. It wasn't that he was interest in being seen by the world, simply he wanted to give his sister the pleasure of seeing her brother on the TV screen as often as possible. I wonder how long it will be before Amai sees this, he pondered silently, gazing with large, curious eyes towards the cameras.