Last week, the man in the suit came to the contestants' houses and collected them. He took them to a Transport - a few enclosed seats with wheels, a pipe off the top emitting the steam that powers them. All are Founder-owned; few people have personal Transports (just the highest First Borders), but people can easily rent them per ride for a small price by sliding their coins into a slot outside the Transport. This action unlocks the door so they can get in.

The suit-man didn't slip any coins in; the contestants figured that the Transport was loaned to the man to do the bidding of the Skavan family.

When the contestant crawled into the backseat of the transport, they discovered another person in the vehicle as well. Once the door closed and - click! - locked, the other person pinned the contestant and placed a damp, strong-smelling cloth against their mouth and nose.

The contestant slept.

When they woke, they were in a cushy bedroom, plush pillows and blankets around them, bed molding their body.

Then a twenty-something year old of their same gender burst over-zealously into the room, and a whirlwind of preparations followed.

For the following week, the contestant was poked, prodded, dressed up, and just about anything else you can think of; they were thoroughly medically examined, and then worked with to find their best "look." The entire time, the person that came into their room the first day was at the head of it all, clucking and cooing like an annoying mother hen.

In the end, it was decided that the contestant looked best "natural" - in other words, the contestant was allowed to keep their original clothes and appearance and given more outfits to fit the same "theme."

Now, finally, the contestants are told that it's time for the game to begin. They're each led into a separate room by their attendant, and it's explained to them that when they enter the main room - "Just through that door," - that they will need to pause as their information is announced, then to descend the stairs to the people already on the ground.

At this point, some of the contestants are annoyed with the attendants and orchestrators of the "game," others are nervous about doing well or about everything that's happened thus far. Still others are excited and think that this is really just the start for the rest of their life, for them to reach their full potential.

First, a Janelle Adelaine is called. A moment before her name is announced, the soft-featured, beautiful brunette in her early twenties walks to the edge of the top ballroom stairs from one of the many doors ringing the wall behind. Her cocoa curls bounce lightly as she comes to a stop, and she shifts her weight to one leg, as if out of habit, the other slightly bent at the knee. Her eyes are such a light grey that they're almost silver, sparkling like slightly tinted diamonds. Her light golden skin is decorated by faint freckles around her nose. Her dark lavender evening gown somehow appears comfortably casual, lightly flowing down her hourglass frame, the silver heels she's sporting only making her legs appear even longer than they already are. She looks natural, like she's used to being paraded, but in a good, relaxed way.

Then the man also standing at the top of the stairs gives her a small motion for permission to proceed down the stairs. As she gracefully sways toward the spectators already on the ballroom floor, another, much shorter, girl reaches the edge of the stairs.

Her red, puffy-sleeved vest appears a little too big, the cuffs of the short sleeves hanging a bit loose on her arms. Its stiff collar flares up around her neck, and the embroidery is gold. Despite being well-worn – and about ten years out of style – it looks well taken care of. Below that is a dark green - bordering on black - tight, long-sleeved shirt. Her pants are tight leather, with well-used, soft leather boots riding just above her ankles. Despite how skinny and gangly she appears, her light blue eyes are strong and determined, an intelligence swirling behind them that belies her natural awkward stance and expression. Her pale red hair appears out-of-place atop her light skin.

"Analia Esry!" the man calls.

The girl mutters something at him. He seems to not hear her.

More persistently, she repeats. "I said, it's pronounced, 'Uh-sree.'" She glances at the crowd, noticing that she'd said that loud enough for everyone else to hear. Her cheeks seem to color slightly, but she stares defiantly at the room's occupants as if she doesn't care.

"Well, I suppose they got the message," he laughs. "Anything else you'd like to add?"

She draws herself up, rather than withering under the comments as most would. "I go by Lí," she announces.

She proceeds to march down the stairs, ignoring whether or not the man was done with her. He chuckles for a moment, and then the next person comes out.

The man appears to be in his mid-twenties, well-built despite being a bit on the skinny side. He self-consciously brushes a lock of his lanky brown, slightly unkempt hair out from in front of one of his icy blue eyes. A fair-skinned hand, holding a pair of shiny, well taken care of goggles, peeks out from the arm of a knee-length leather jacket the same color as his hair. Beneath his jacket, a somewhat dirty white shirt is visible, along with his tan cargo pants and boots.

He's a little under half a foot taller than the little 5' 5" announcer, who now declares, "Fredrick Wilhelm!"

As soon as the man gestures that Frederick can go, he quickly navigates down to the floor, easily finding an out-of-the-way wall to stand by. As he passes people, though, he sheepishly waves, a thin smile finding its way to his lips.

Another girl in her early twenties reaches the stairs' edge. Her straight, flaming-red hair, almost reaching her elbow, sways slightly with her confident movement. She actually appears to be the same height as the man before her, but more athletic, lithe, where he was strong. Her fair skin has a healthy glow, and her chocolate eyes are humorous but guarded. Her jeans hang close to her skin but don't hug her, and her stylish-but-casual shirt drips from her shoulders in a comfortable way.

"Nova Finnley!"

She's eyeing the crowd, either as if trying to analyze them or as if trying to memorize the way they look.

She descends, and the next girl comes out. Appearing to be about fifteen, she floats to the stairs. She blinks slowly, tan eyelids momentarily hiding her deep brown eyes. A small scar is visible on her cheek, and another scar peeks out from underneath the somewhat tattered, oversized green jacket she's wearing over a short, hand-me-down-looking black dress. Her short black boots only come a few inches past her ankles, leaving part of her legs exposed. Despite the quality of the rest of her clothes, though, hanging around her neck is a detailed, shiny, gold bird necklace. She smiles slightly, seeming mostly unbothered by the attention, and tucks a strand of her wavy raven locks behind an ear.

"Felicity Elise!"

She does a quick, quirkily adorable little curtsy, and, bobbing back up grinning, walks down the stairs in a way that feels like dancing.

Another person approaches, a couple inches shorter than the announcer, but also a couple taller than Lí. The youngest seen so far at thirteen-ish, their hair is chopped short and there's an adorable mischievousness that seems to surround them like an aura. It's weirdly endearing, though, and their lips are spread in a wide, excited grin. It's realized a moment too late by most that the figure is a girl, her sharp features decidedly feminine with her worn out Edwardian dress being the main clue-in. Despite the way one her eyes - cloudy white and presumably blind - is somewhat unsettling, especially with the other being a rather dark color, overall, she appears very friendly and welcoming. A little coat likely designed for someone older rests on her, but it fits okay. Her skin is sun-tanned an olive shade, and a pair of dark green, striped stockings disappear into a pair of oddly well-fitting, considering the state of the rest of her, boots.

"Maria Brooke!" the announcer calls.

The odd girl does a cute little wave, wiggling her fingers at the crowd. Then she bounds down the stairs, all but skipping.

Out comes a boy that, based on his defined - almost sharp - face, it's supposed he must be a little bit older than Maria, but he's only about four and a half feet tall and comparably thin. He doesn't appear to be malnourished, just small. Despite his stature, his mid-shin length dark brown trench coat and other clothes don't swamp him; instead, they seem to fit quite well. Underneath his many-pocketed coat is a carefully cared for white shirt, tucked into a pair of dark brown pants with a same-colored-and-bronze belt. In fact, it seems he has a bit of a thing for bronze: the glasses resting on his dark-caramel nose are bronze wire, the buttons on all of the coat pockets are bronze - the list could go on. From said pockets, numerous things are spilling; bronze wire from this one, royal blue thread from that one, scraps of paper here, odd pens there...

His wavy dark hair, almost black, is a little messy, as if it refuses to cooperate, and his light brown eyes are the color of coffee with just a little bit of creamer in it.

"Arin Miff!"

Arin offers to the room an awkward attempt at a smile, then makes his way down the stairs. On the next to last one, he trips and stumbles the rest of the way to the crowd.

Meanwhile, another boy enters above with straight black hair that comes down to his ears, where it curls unexpectedly. He appears to be just slightly under twenty, standing a good half-foot and few inches taller than the announcer. His skin is naturally tanned, and his eyes are a dark, forest green on either side of a slightly crooked nose. A thin, light-colored scar runs around his eye, following the curve of the socket. His clothes faintly hang on him, making the thin man appear even thinner; however, muscles are visible despite the evident slight malnourishment. A brown, scuffed leather jacket hides a brown muscle shirt that's tucked into his faded black pants, which are in turn tucked into a pair of black military-style boots, the eyelets bronze.

"Dell Cavért!"

He rumbles something softly to the announcer.

The announcer simply replies, "Well, you can tell them that when you get down there."

The guy scowls at the announcer, but strides down the stairs.

A girl glides to the top of the stairs, honey hair curled to waterfall in ringlets down one side of her soft, prettily round face. Watery blue eyes rest in her paper-white skin. She's about as tall as the announcer, but it's felt that that's due to her dainty little, silver inch-heels that are peeking out from under her yellow, full-skirted dress with a silver-brocade bodice. She's kind of curvy, a little plump, but still attractive. When she reaches the man, she sweeps into a curtsey, first to him, then, turning back to the crowd, another to them.

"Risley-Anne VanDirk!" A bit of admiration leaks into his voice, and his face is a little red.

"Thank you very much, sir," she tells him, then sweeps down the stairs.

A number of other contestants are presented, but eventually, the introductions end.

The announcer calls to the group, "Now begins the competition. Please, get to know each other, talk, have fun. Later, your handlers will come back and collect you to your new dormitories. It won't be until tomorrow that you'll get your schedules, and the games will - officially - begin." He grins once at all of the people, then disappears through one of the doors.

What do your characters do? Who do they approach? Remember, only read comments you're tagged in, and only tag the people you think would see.

Here's the list of characters (and their players). Please do not try to include any character not in the list. (:

*Note: For description of Zaidi, look in the comments for the chain that starts by @ing all the players then says "Zaidi's description"*

Janelle Adelaine - Kavya0704

Lí Esry - snowlight17

Fredrick Wilhelm - ImmortalLore

Zaidi Aman - OmbreChasseur17

Nova Finnley - Anj0921

Maria Brooke - Web-Warrior

Arin Miff - NPC

Risley-Anne VanDirk - NPC

Dell (Wren) Cavért - NPC

Response Time (Remember, this is in-game, not for real life (:  ) - 3 hours

Have fun! :D

You have until February 25 to get your replies in. I may extend it if it seems necessary. (: