Xemthawt112

"Well we wouldn't have been late if you didn't stop to pack!" the dragonkin Jameson, both short in stature and temper, growled. Soren, the disheveled and goggled youth to his side, shook his head. "Hardly. I was merely taking advantage of the time left to us do to your absence. If you wanted us to arrive timely, maybe you shouldn't have met us late in the first place." "Well some of us actually believe in sleeping you know." Tara sighed as the two continued on. This was hardly a surprising turn of events: Her two friends seemed to butt heads so often she sometimes wondered if they were magnetized. Still, this was the first time that their

Name: Jameson Goelcerth Gender: Male Age: 17 Species: Dragonkin (human/dragon hybrid, largely human) Occupation: Student (Ex-Acrobat) Appearance:Hair: Rusty-red, cut very short and spiked in the frontEyes: Brown and vaguely reptilianHeight: 5’ 6”Weight: 145 lbs Clothing: Jameson wears a simple white shirt (loose, vaguely tunic-like), and a pair of dark red pants (which sit loosely on him except at the bottom where they tighten around the ankle), both made of a light flame retardant material. Overtop the white shirt he wears an orange sleeveless and button-less vest, made of the same material. He has a simple pair of black shoe

    "Mr. Burton, please explain to me why its being reported that vitals on our probe are dropping?"    The shorter man seemed to shrink even smaller. "It would seem the probe ran into a local predator...."    Burton's boss loomed, her shorter stature not remotely detracting from her intimidation. "Mr. Burton, I thought I made it clear that the probe was to only engage the subject, and that its only priority was to terminate it."    I am a doctor...that's Dr. Burton, the man thought to himself. But he wouldn't dare say it. "The instincts of an animal are hard to predict, but it will be overridden and forced to disengage."    The fury

    Leaves crackled underfoot as I made my way through the multicolored woods. Trees of green and red, even purple and blue filled my vision as I walked. Out of the corner of my eye I could make out small shapes with trailing wisps that darted about. It was quite the sight. In fact...it was almost peaceful.    At least, it would be if I wasn't internally panicking at the thought of what I was trying to do.    Every once in a while I would jump as a less common noise entered my ear. Every twig snap was someone looking for me, every gust of wind the howl of the monster that was lurking just behind me. But there was still some relief in my p

    The drip of water. The scuffling of foot on stone. The occasional shouts, drowned out by the magnitude of their cage. I had become familiar with all the little sounds in these caves in the time it took me to stop sulking. As it turns out, this place was a lot like home. Except with a lot less screaming.    I shifted my weight, failing to find a comfortable spot on the uncomfortable floor. Some time had passed since my inevitable betrayal. I'm not sure how long, it was hard to say: Days? A week? Two minutes? Time didn't really mean much when there wasn't anything to look forward to. Even the traditional "stay alive and don't die a grueso

It had been nearly a solid hour before Purple Skirt, also known as Mento apparently, could finally convince Summer (or scary-staring orange haired girl, whichever you prefer) to let us go. I still had my hands tied up (something about me being the untrustworthy one), but I had earned to right to walk without being tethered like the world’s strangest looking Pomeranian. We had a long walk ahead us, so since the riveting conversation never quiet started I was content trying to think of a way to not die horribly once we got there. …maybe I can throw myself off the mountain? I thought, I apparently survived that once already, and it

Today was the day I finally did it. It took a lot of effort and I almost didn’t think I’d pull it off. The odds were certainly stacked against me. But I was an underdog, so maybe that had worked to my advantage. Either way, victory was mine. I had finally snuck a sandwich out of the Grapes’ kitchen. Well, not so much a sandwich as the foodstuff’s I’d managed to stuff in my mouth and hands were roughly equivalent to a sandwich. But it’s the thought that counts, right? As I nibbled on what was left of my victory bread, I thought over the latest dictate of our oh-so-charitable captor. Apparently in lieu of

The stars of the day shone brightly on me as I edged my way out of the caves. (The only difference between day and night here seemed to be what color the sky was. Somehow this was not the strangest thing about this place.) I had been ever so politely told that my opponent was already making its way down the mountain to a more appropriate fighting area, so I had a little catching up to do. The smooth stone gave way to jagged rock, and my feet were quick to remind me I wasn’t wearing appropriate footwear. (Which is to say, none.) I felt the rigid protrusions as I made my way down the slope, eyes scanning for the thing I was supposed to fi

I found myself staring out from the caves at the end of the day. Behind me I could hear the ruckus of the group of violent sociopaths that I was sharing shelter with. Sure, I didn’t know they were murderous crazies, but, as I had found out, we were all here for some sort of gladiator fighting, so best to assume they were all hungry for blood. My stomach let out a low rumble. Speaking of hungry… I grimaced. I had been close to training my stomach to give up on getting a meal. (Before I had gotten a cracker at best, an IV drip full of “nutrients” at worst.) That had stopped when I had passed a room and had been nearly k