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Underneath a bridge, one near the festival grounds, a figure could be found hunched over in the shadows. A stranger might look there and wonder what the figure was doing there, but as an especially loud noise came from the festival, one of the figures eyes opened, and then the other, followed by a yawn. The figure, Aiden, the resident mysterious bum, had been sleeping under the bridge, despite the plenty of offers of a place to spend the night he'd gotten the night before.

Looking around tiredly, Aiden began to move, trying to figure out where the noise had some from. Once he saw the festival, he sighed with resignation, and then grinned.

"Well, not getting any more sleep with that in the background. Time to find work, then, so I can eat tonight."

And with that, he made his way into the festival itself, making sure his hat was placed securely on his head. He might not have been the best groomed person out there due to his homeless and unemployed status, but he wasn't going to lose that hat. Looking around he tried to see where he might be able to do some work in exchange for a meal or two, and noticed a crowd growing...was that a fight of sorts going on? Obviously it was a challenge, and not a brawl, but Aiden was still going to avoid it. Despite the scar crossing the red stripe tattoos on his face, Aiden was not a fighter, at least not in this lifetime. No point in putting himself into harms way. Besides, those things usually took an entrance fee of sorts...and as usual he was broke.

Of course, the problem was that the rest of the festival seemed to have been distracted by the fight, cutting down his chances of finding work for the day. That his stomach was already demanding to be fed wasn't a good sign either...

(Points from Posting - 1)

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There are so many ways...

Rose saw a man with a scar on his face amble across the fair grounds....he didn't look very well off at all....she stopped him....

"Say, you look like you could use a friend," she smiled politely. He had quite a frightening scar on his face, it looked like it was very painful at one point...wounds like that never really truly heal....she thought about asking him if he wanted her to try and heal it but then she thought she just might offend him.......

She stood waiting for him to say something....

(post count 2)

a heart can break...

" I know Njord just fine, I meant the guy over their with the scar." Orso said, point to the man. "And you should eat more Kyo, it will be bad if you faint in the middle of the festival." Orso said, gesturing to a nearby food merchant. "So, what would you like?" He said, pointing to a small menu in front of the stand. "Its on my pay today."

Di

She came out from the tent, clad in clothes even more bizarre than their predecessors. It looked as though she was about to enter a cosplay competition.
"Much better," Di said to herself, smiling as she brushed her hair. "Now I'm ready for a fight, if given the chance."
She placed the adorned white top hat back on her head. Sitting down in a chair behind the front of her booth, Di rested her head in her hands and waited to be called upon.

((+1 for posting
Today's points from posting: 1))

Very little seemed to be happening at this point, just preparations. This bored the sapphire-eyed youth to no end. Thus, he decided he would purchase some food.

He pushed back through the crowd, which was no easy task, and hunted for a food stall. Eventually, he came across one that sold his favorite festival food: gyros. He ordered one with lamb, provalone, lettuce, tomato, onion, bacon, and gyro sauce, and waited for his order to finish.

When Esper recieved his food, he walked on, searching for something else to do. He hunted and hunted, but nothing seemed to come up. Everything seemed interesing enough, but it just wasn't what he was looking for. "Damn!" he said, chuckling slightly. "You'd think there'd be more skill games at a festival, let alone one this big."

Eventually, the black-haired boy doubled back to the fight, and found a nice resting point near a tree. He stood next to a feisty-looking girl (Seven), and decided he would chat. "Hey. What's up with the fight?" he asked, and waited for a reply.

Ghent was relaxing in a pool when a voice shouted at him. "Hey, you, get outta the pool, theres gonna be a race soon!" "Really?...hmm...what kinda race?" he replied as he cracked his eyes open to find a youthful face beaming back at him. "A swimming race, duh! There's gonna be all kinds of people doing all kinds of strokes....or so I've been told...theres also going to be a huge prize of gold!" the boy said as he merrily dashed away.

Ghent pondered this as he left the pool, contemplating wether or not the race would be a good idea, when he remembered he had seen a sign advertising this. then again...imagine the books I could buy with 4000 gold pieces... he thought as he searched for the registration booth. He found it, paid the 100 gold entry fee, and proceeded to change into racing trunks. "Umm, Mr...Ghent "-for he hadn't given his last name-"don't you have a team with you?"

"Nope!" Ghent replied joyfully as he began stretching out. "'Kay then...is this all correct? Your name is Ghent, you are a team of one, and you'll be swimming the IM, breaststroke, and butterfly?"

"All correct. When's the meet start?" he asked as he began touching his elbows to his toes to stretch his hamstrings. "10 minutes..." the man said as he turned and began preparations for the announcement.

Ghent finished stretching as the man announced the beginning of the meet. While other swimmers from various teams, or none at all, raced through the Medley relay and 200 freestyle, Ghent got a few practice yards done in a pool specifically for that purpose.

Over the PA came the following, "Next up we have the 200 individual medley...In lane 1, Novak; Lane 2, Ghent; lane 3; Helderman, Lane 4; Paulson...Mr. Starter? the man's voice cut out here, only to be replaced by a deep male voice, swimmers step up.....take your mark.... and the a loud BLEEP was heard as the official began the race.

Ghent wasn't too shabby off the starting blocks, and had essentially coasted the first 20 (yards) of the Butterfly portion. Only when he desperately needed air did he come up, and as he planned it, this happened in perfect timing for his turn. As he flipped and began rocketing the other way, he could vaguely hear the crowd's roaring getting ever louder.

He finished his second length and launched right into the Backstroke. This had always been his weakest stroke, and as such he lost the little lead he had gained from his excellent Butterflying. As he finished the fourth length and began the Breaststroke portion, he could make out that his fellow racers had a 1/2 lap lead on him.

Ghent had planned this, however; Breaststroke was by far his best stroke. By the end of length 5, he had caught up to the leader, and had a 3 body length lead on him by the end of the 6th.

As he began the final leg of his race, the Freestyle, a wave of weakness passed through his arms and legs as they protested their lack of oxygen. He fought through this for the next lap, then noticed through oxylack-ed yellowed eyes that his foes were advancing.

not this time! he thought as he dragged his muscles with sheer willpower. The race must have been close...or maybe that was his blood roaring in his ears? either way, his final length was a thing of beauty. As he jammed his fingers into the wall to finish, he twisted and looked at the timeboard:

1-3-2:12.98
2-1-2:10.78
3-2-2:11.03
4-4-and here the number was still advancing as Paulson hadn't finished yet

Ghent disregarded his opponents times and instead focused on his own as his body suffered from severe air depravation. He would have, uncharacteristically, shouted with joy at coming in first and beating his old record, though the fact that his entire body needed the oxygen stopped him. Weak as he was, he nearly passed out a few times as he exited the pool and began pacing. The reason for this was that he would, without fail, pass out if he suddenly stopped moving.

He recovered slightly and waited for his next races. In the end, they ended much the same way, with a near-dead Ghent coming in first.

He knew that he had won the prize; after all, no other lone swimmer got three firsts that day. He thanked the official as he handed Ghent the 4,000 gold bag, then left, amongst shouts and cheers, to towel off and get changed back into real clothes.
((holy crap...long post is veeerry long))

Fen Luyen


Tem continued to watch Kyo. He wondered what sort of connection he had to his older brother, and why no one would tell him where his family went. Sighing he stood up and walked over to Seven, only to be distracted by a sad looking girl. He followed the girl and peeked around the corner at her. "What's wrong? You look bummed?"

( +1)