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Melissa didn’t do, well, she didn’t do anything when she arrived home. She was exhausted. She didn’t take her shoes off or turn on a light or anything, she just flopped down on her bed face-first and tried not to think about anything. Which was difficult, given the day she had just had. It was like a leaky dam in one of those old cartoons, where plugging a hole in one area just meant another hole somewhere else opened up, maybe even three or four at once. So she could try, she could contort her metaphorical body this way and that trying to get everywhere, but it was a fool’s errand. She couldn’t help but think. But that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Melissa’s mind poured over the events of the day, pointing out the little things she should have done better. She shouldn’t have hesitated in accepting Gabriela’s offer. She could have made sure Elizabeth was okay. She could have talked with Hoshiko more at that club meeting. And on and on and on. The absolute flood of “what could have beens” was only interrupted when the dorm light finally flicked on and Hoshiko entered the room. Even then, she pretended not to notice Hoshiko as she went about the room, yawning rather loudly and, well, doing whatever else she liked to do whenever she got back. It wasn’t like Melissa could see, lying how she was. Though after a few moments she felt a gentle prod on her back and heard the loudest whisper she had ever heard. “Psst,” Hoshiko said. “Are you awake, Melissa?” “I’m awake,” Melissa said, rolling over onto her back as if that was demonstration enough, though once she managed eye contact with her roommate, she added in an awkward wave and a “Hi, see?” “Sorry you didn’t get to ask that question, by the way,” Melissa said after another moment. “I don’t- I think I got caught up in, uh, introducing myself and everything that came after that. Was that what you wanted to ask? If I wanted to join the Entertainment Club?” “Oh, don’t worry about it!” Hoshiko said, giggling a bit. “Honestly I was really proud of you back there. I was sure I was going to have to help you talk, but you went and did it all by yourself!” She laid back down on the bed, rolling over to face Melissa. “Yeah, I was going to ask you if you wanted to join.” She winked. “I think I know what your answer is, though.” “Proud of me,” Melissa said, repeating Hoshiko’s words back at her. “I guess.” She was about to say, “At least someone is,” but she wasn’t that self-loathing, was she? No, instead, she sat up in her bed, turning to hang her feet over the side, kicked off her shoes, and said, “I don’t know, Hoshiko. I mean, I guess I felt okay in that moment, and yeah, I did okay, but, like, I don’t know how I could deal with that sort of spotlight all the time, if that makes sense. Like, you’re an idol, right? How do you deal with all that?” “How do I deal with it?” Hoshiko said, turning towards the ceiling. There was an eagerness in her voice. Melissa had gotten used to Hoshiko’s general mood in the short time they’d shared a living space, but this was something more, like she had been waiting for this question for a while. “Well, whenever I’m in the spotlight, I honestly kinda forget it’s there,” she said with a chuckle, turning back towards Melissa. “Whenever I’m performing, most of my attention is on the performance itself. Sure, I know people are watching me, but at the moment that’s not where my whole attention is, ya know?” “That makes sense,” said Melissa. “But like- sorry, I don’t quite know how to phrase this, um…” She lay back again, only popping up when the words finally came to her. “I guess, I don’t know, I guess I was asking about all the other stuff. Like, when you’re not performing, you’re still Rose the Idol, right? People whispering, pointing fingers like ‘Hey, is that Rose?’ or ‘Do you have anything she could sign?’ or… I admit I’m not super experienced with how people talk about famous people, but stuff like that. “What I’m worried about is having to be always on like that, or the spotlight’s always on. The performance, I figured other people were involved in the performance and stuff like that. People who could help me get through it. But all the other times…” Melissa rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s the other times I guess I’m worried about the most.” “Ah, I think I get it now,” Hoshiko said, placing a hand on her chin. “Most of the time, I don’t mind getting the extra attention from people like that. Honestly, it makes me happy to see them get excited like that. But I don’t think me telling you that helps you that much…” Her words faded away, Hoshiko losing herself in her won thought. Not that she didn’t seem eager to answer, of course, though even that enthusiasm, to Melissa’s eye, seemed to be dissipating away. “Of course, it’s not always like that,” Hoshiko eventually said. “Sometimes I do overhear things that… aren’t so nice about me… or read about it online.” Hoshiko frowned a bit, although it was a short bit as she sat up on the bedside, her eyes drifting down to her shoes before lighting up with a glint of realization. She smiled again as she kicked off her shoes gently. “...so what I do then is focus on the positive!” She pointed her thumb towards herself. “For me personally, I think about whatever event I have coming up or, if nothing like that is happening, I think about the adoration of my fans!” Hoshiko gestured towards Melissa. “Of course, whatever it is that makes you happy is probably something different, but you get the idea right?” “Mm,” Melissa said, nodding along. “Sure, I think I get it.” She stood up from her bed and started collecting her various toiletries, trying to start the getting ready for bed process. Once she had them all she turned back to her roommate. “Thanks, Hoshiko,” she said. “For the talk, I mean. I feel a bit better about it now.” “No worries at all!” Hoshiko said, tossing herself back onto her bed. “You can always come and talk to me about any problems you have! I’m all ears.” Melissa could tell she meant it, too. There as something different about the spring in her step as she got up and headed over to the lightswitch, something Melissa had sometimes noticed herself doing when she’d managed to help someone. She was just about ready to turn off the light when she paused and laughed to herself. “Oh, I need to change!” A few minutes later, after both of them had finished their nighttime routines, Hoshiko returned to the lightswitch. “Goodnight, roomie,” she said, flicking the switch off as she did so. Melissa waited until she heard Hoshiko’s head hit her pillow before echoing the sentiment. “Goodnight, Hoshiko,” she said before she laid back in her own bed and closed her eyes. Have mercy on me, Oh Lord, a sinner. Wipe away my transgressions, and let me be reborn anew in your glory Help me turn away from sin, and move towards your eternal light. Oh Lord, I thank you for lending me your strength today. I thank you a thousand times over and I would thank you a thousand times again if a day like today never happened again. But I also fear that may not be possible. I fear that I know my path, one that will have me borrowing your strength for a while now until I reach my eternity and can return it to you with joyous celebration So please, grant me your strength again, Lord. Grant it to me until I no longer need it. In the name of The Father, and of The Son, and of The Holy Spirit, Amen Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. -Mark 11:24 (NIV) But she didn’t sleep. Not yet. In that darkness, so similar to the one she’d made for herself before Hoshiko had come home, her mind wandered again. There were differences this time, of course. She was lying face-up and under her covers, for one, instead of smothering herself with her pillow. Not to mention the light sound of Hoshiko breathing on the other side of the room, which exuded a comforting atmosphere over the whole area. So instead of fussing over the events of the day, instead her mind went further back. To the previous Sunday, and before that, to her Bible study meetings. And her times spent in a confessional booth. And on and on, all the way back as far as she could remember. Melissa’s church had a poster. It was supposed to be for the children to read after Sunday School or while playing in the halls waiting for the service to end. But it was placed at a corner turn right before the narthex, where one couldn’t help but pass it while heading in. Melissa herself had seen it countless times, and even in the pitch black, she could still conjure its image in her mind. It was a simple thing, both in material -- the creases in its paper were likely older than Melissa, and it was tattered all around, especially near the edges -- and in design. The poster depicted a beach scene, the tide going out and dozens of starfish scattered around the foreground shore, continuing off into the horizon. In the distance, the poster had the image of a human of indeterminate gender, posed like they were about to attempt the world’s longest skipping stone throw. Splayed on top of all this was a simple story, and like everything else about the poster, Melissa knew it well. One day, the poster said, a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy, in quick but practiced and smooth motions, picking up things and throwing them into the ocean. He got closer and said, “Young man, what are you doing?” The boy looked at him and said, “I’m throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide’s going out and the sun is up. If they don’t make it back, they’ll die.” The man laughed and threw his arm back, gesturing to the thousands of starfish he had already passed on his walk. “Look, boy, at all these starfish. This beach stretches for miles and miles. You can’t possibly make a difference.” The boy was undaunted. As if to reply, he got down, grabbed another starfish, and threw it into the ocean as hard as he could. Then, he looked back at the man and said, “I just made a difference to that starfish!” The author, according to the poster, was unknown. The author always seemed to be unknown on posters like that, like the designers were always afraid of a little attribution. That part never really bothered her, though, until she was much older. Loren Eiseley. That was the author’s name. And even then, not really. Melissa had looked that part up, too. Apparently, his story had been twisted, stripped of subtext until only the twee short paragraphs and punchline on the poster remained. The original short story, as far as Melissa could gather, was more interested in what happened after, as in, what happened to the man on the rest of his walk. Eiseley’s original story did not have that final retort, that punchline the poster seemed to adore so much, nor were the man and the boy the only ones on the beach that day. As the man continued walking along, he saw others scrabbling around, grabbing at whatever clams or crabs or starfish they could find, putting them all in buckets before waddling away from the ocean, buckets in hand. The man, here much more clearly a stand-in for Eiseley, muses that they are likely taking them home to boil and consume, leaving only the seashells behind for their collection. The man is disgusted by this but does nothing, instead continuing home, and only then does he consider the star-thrower’s actions. “‘Love not the world,’ the Bible says. ‘But I do love the world,’” Melissa whispered, quoting one of the few lines of the original story she could remember before her mind began to wander elsewhere. Melissa’s thoughts rushed back forward in time until they arrived again at the scene at the park bench, the one that started with Sai asking for his notebook back and ending with Melissa making the first of a series of decisions that she was sure she was going to regret. The worst part was she remembered being aware of them at the time, too. The later ones could be explained away by the same “in for a penny in for a pound” mentality that had gotten her closer to Gabriela, or possibly Elizabeth or Jun before that, but that first decision, that was something different. “If you have issues you wanna talk about, or just want to help people, entertainment dueling is a good way to go about it,” Sai had said. “As you do better and get more fans, you get a wider audience to raise awareness with, you know what I mean?” That was the moment that had doomed her. Sai had offered a way out from the Community Service Club she’d held in so much contempt, and Melissa had jumped at the chance. “Just for one meeting,” she had said. As if she didn’t know what that would mean. She’d be asked for another, and another after that, and she would say yes because, well, it was just one more, right? Melissa’s breath began to accelerate. She’d been aware of the lure, of the fishing line attached to the bait dangling right in front of her, and she gobbled it up all the same. She didn’t even have a “cause”, she’d just accepted the idea that she might have one. Did anyone else in that club have “a cause?” Did the already established duelists -- Sai, Souji, and Hoshiko -- have anything they were fighting for, championing above all else? Should she have asked? She nearly bolted upright in her bed. She nearly got out and went over to the restroom where she was very much prepared to just spend the entire night, or at least however long it took for her to calm down. The only reason she didn’t was, well… It was stupid. It was so, so stupid, and it shouldn’t have worked, but Melissa managed to start thinking about starfish again. The poster had a simple moral: “Even the smallest effort matters.” Despite its simplicity and the knowledge of its distance from the original Star Thrower, Melissa still thought it was good and valid. But that didn’t mean Eiseley’s wasn’t better. Eiseley’s message was about the choice, how one piece of good could inspire others to make the same decision the boy- the star-thrower had made. “I understand,” Melissa whispered into the void, quoting Eiseley once more. “Call me another thrower.” She could do good. She would do good. And it was that final resolution that relaxed her enough to let her close her eyes, for now, at least, a little more at peace.

Ryia was definitely taken off guard by what it was that Keres's usual diet had consisted of. The girl wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but she was fairly certain fungus were usually inedible? Beyond that, the choice of animals were far more unique and exotic then anything that Ryia herself had ever eaten, making her wonder where the water chosen even found all of these things to begin with. "That's um, certainly more varied, then uh, what I'm used to." Even beyond simply being exotic to the girl, Ryia's usual diet back home had consisted more or less of bread and chicken and that was about it. However, as Keres had mentioned something about a pie, Ryia said, "oh, that sounds um, interesting. Do you um, bake?" Keres gave a stiff nod. "I know many forms of cooking. Had to. Living on my own." "That's unfortunate..." She was only now more curious of the life that Keres had lead before becoming a Chosen, though it didn't sound any bit happy so far. Of course, thinking that she might've just said something poorly, the girl doubled back saying, "not that you can cook, or um, anything. That's wonderful. I uh, I don't think I've ever really had the talent for it. Do you um...enjoy, cooking?" Keres didn't seem to know how to answer that. Instead she just repeated. "Had to." "Ah." Ryia wasn't really sure what to make of the response. It didn't sound like she did, and more like she was just forced to to make it around wherever she was from. As such, she doubted it could possibly be fun. Still, all the food around them and the topic had made her curious about what Keres's cooking was like. And for that matter, if anyone else in the group had any knowledge. As such, pressing on the matter just a bit more she said, "would you...like to get things here, that would help you cook...on the road and stuff?" Keres turned towards Ryia. "Wouldn't it be better to get more general supplies?" "I suppose so, yeah." Ryia turned her head away, a bit awkward and embarrassed by how eager she must've seemed for something, ultimately unnecessary for them. After all, all of their food was already covered for and it would simply be better to save their gold for things that they actually needed. As such, the girl tried to shift topics back to what they were originally here for, saying, "well, I think they're further into the marketplace so, um, shall we continue?" Keres nodded but followed along slowly. After a bit she stopped. "Um. Did you. Want to?" Stopping as well, Ryia was caught off by the question saying, "oh well...I just thought it might be something fun to learn or do, or well...help the group out and stuff." Keres's face appeared blank as she watched Ryia. Then she turns. "Let's get some then." Ryia's face seemed to be surprised by this, her saying, "oh. Well. Um." Her expression then going to excitement as she realized what Keres had said, she smiled and nodded saying, "alright. Let's." And with that, she began her search for cooking supplies.

This one could work.

"Oh um, hello there, um," Edda froze, seeming a little...nervous? Eh? That's strange... Still, it wasn't like Yue was able to focus much on the strangeness of this strange girl, what with everything starting to go black in front of her. Scary scary scary scary scary scary scary scary-- "Meep." Huh? Time seemed to freeze, broken only by the archer taking in a ragged gasp of air. She had, it seemed, forgotten to breathe earlier. Lowering her head, the girl closed her eyes briefly as her temples throbbed, taking care to breathe evenly. It was something she had been taught to do from a young age as she had had a terrible tendency to faint whenever things got too terrifying for her. Raising her head and opening her eyes, she stared back up at the Jouran, shaking in place, but, thankfully conscious. "Are you..well? Cold?" What was going on? This girl was...concerned? For her? Why? She's an evil evil Jouran who's gonna do evil evil stuff to us and yet-- She was concerned. The girl, perhaps confused by the continued silence, shrugged, "meep?" "E-eh?" Why was she saying meep so often? Wait, that sounded a little similar...to what she had said when she was terrified earlier. Was she...imitating her? Making fun of her? She's not smiling or smirking though...so maybe not? Realizing, just then, that Edda had asked a question, and Yue had failed to answer not once, but twice, brought her back to earth. "Oh! U-um..." she looked down, poking her index fingers together. "U-u-um...hello. I'm...Yue..." She trailed off, ducking her head shyly, letting her hair fall in front of her face. She would need to cut her bangs at some point. They were starting to get a little long. Or maybe, she would just let them stay long, so she could just hide behind her hair when things got a little scary. "A-a-and I'm...fine. Sorry..." She wasn't sure why she was apologizing, but maybe this person would be less likely to do evil things if she could appease her. "S-s-so," she stumbled over her words. "U-um...are you...well?" Isn't that what she was supposed to do? Ask the other person how they were after being asked? She really, really wasn't any good at this talking thing.

All added, plus I added 6 of my own, bringing the total to 27... I'm looking for pictures of all of them, the only one I'm having a hard time finding a decent picture of is so if someone can find a good picture of this one, I'd appreciate it. Here are my 6 I added Brian O'Connor's '99 Skyline from 2 Fast 2 Furious Sweet Tooth from Twisted Metal The Magic School Bus K.I.T.T. from Knight Rider Mach 5 from Speed Racer Ecto-1 from Ghostbusters

Leon had looked a bit dumbfounded as Alexis bounded off and started to engage in her...hobby, at Yue and Layne. While he felt sorry for the both of them, he was then left more surprised by her sudden declaration to join their group. Leon had known that she could've been a bit of an impulsive person, but this seemed to be something else. While the boy would normally chastise her about this, Leon felt like he wasn't in much of a position to argue with her. In fact, this was likely the best case scenario for the group to make sure she didn't tell anyone else about them. And having another hand around was always helpful. "Well um," Leon seemed to be collecting his thoughts before continuing, "welcome aboard, I suppose. Officially speaking, we go by the name of the "Iron Falcons."" After a brief moment, Leon simply glanced to the side saying, "we used to have more fliers." Fastening his sword to his side, he then continued, "anyway, I hope you have what you need on you. We should be heading out soon, after all," he gestured to the deceased bandit leader. "We don't want to linger around here for too long." Edda had realized something while she was mulling over her own thoughts. Glancing back to each member of the mercenary group that she was apart of, she was able to notice that they were all talking with one another. That alone wasn't worth note. No, what it was that Edda had realized was that she was awkwardly far away from everyone else. The girl had simply been standing on the side this whole time, silently lost in her own thoughts and it had seemed to her that this gap only seemed to widen as time went on. Of course, she didn't really want to be near them or anything. And even if she were, she had absolutely nothing to talk about with them. So it only made sense that she would keep her distance and not talk with them. If anything, she had less than nothing to talk to them about. Oh, she could talk about how she wanted to go on! The thought had crossed her mind, and as she was the client it would be entirely reasonable for her to talk about that. Or, was it? Thus far, Edda hadn't actually had much of a say in when they moved out. And she had very little experience in dealing with mercenaries as it was. So she wasn't sure how talking about it would go over. Of course, if she moved forward then surely that would convey the same message and they would be forced to follow. Though, that also didn't seem conducive to being less awkwardly far away from everyone else. Not that she needed to close the distance anyway. As Edda seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, she was interrupted as she felt something bump into her. Truthfully, Edda herself had hardly noticed it, and Yue would be able to notice that Edda had barely budged from her spot in spite of being crashed into. As such, she curiously glanced to the side, locking eyes with something akin to a frightened rabbit staring down a fox. Raising an eyebrow at this, Edda's vision focused more on the whole picture, seeing the shaking form of a the white haired Yonan girl in front of her. Edda looked around, not seeing any cause for panic before her eyes rested back on the archer. As she greeted her, Edda froze up as she realized something. "Oh um, hello there, um" As the distance, that she hadn't cared about, suddenly closed between them she came to understand something. Everyone in this group knew her name. Edda herself, though, had no idea who it was she was talking to. Though, she had said something at the end of her statement that caught her attention. Was it a Yonan tradition to say that at the end of a greeting? It certainly hadn't been an Aeornan one from what she had seen thus far. Maybe it was just some strange verbal tic that she had. Or maybe it was her name? Figuring to be safe to go with the assumption on the first and third option to proceed in the conversation, Edda simply replied, "Meep." Her tone was, of course, far flatter and more confused then the Yonan girl before hers. As Edda had returned her greeting, she then paused for a moment, not really thinking her usual conversation topics were applicable here. As such, she thought about it for a moment, realizing that the girl was still shaking and grew more concerned as she asked, "are you..well? Cold?" It was still quite warm out. Trying to speak the girl's language yet again, Edda shrugged repeating, "meep?"