[Some of this might be off, since I'm not sure about certain things. So just go with the flow if I mess up, or correct me pretending I said the right thing. xD]
+Ezra+
A young Caucasian face peered around the wood of a stair case. The green hazel eyes were marbles against the stare it gave, and they rolled around in caution. As if, being chased. Well, Ezra wast that kind, she was more likely the one chasing. But it changed, a lot changed for the girl. Her life, for one. Kicked from her home by her own force was bad enough, having to listen to screeching, and bashing of walls and heads during day and night.
Her hand reached out, and she pulled herself up. Ezra was a tall, red-headed girl. Her hair curled in loose rows, and curly bangs dropped to her shoulders while the rest was tucked into a pony-tail that was poorly constructed on her head. Her face had few freckles, mostly on her cheek bones and up to her eyes.
Her jeans were dirtied, and her shirt was too. She almost looked anorexic along with that, not eating food for a good three days. Walking slowly down a hill that led from her hiding place, she left the abandoned porch an followed a small dirtied path with dark moist soil. She stayed in a more foresty like area, where few houses lived. Most were abandoned, so it gave advantages. Not long from her little hideout, there was the dock, where ship was placed. She wasn't the biggest and curious out of them all, but she feared they held something. Why would such a huge ship suddenly come from the middle of nowhere and dock in the small city?
Ezra always questioned, but sometimes her hot-headed personality got in the way. Most of her begged to check out that ship, what was inside of it, or why it was here. But her innate instinct was to stay away. She was in enough trouble for her sake already.
+Andres+
The small nod escaped from the boy's head, his black hair bobbed against his face. Ducking away from the outer-deck, he swung himself under a low box crate, and back to standing. Looking back, he watched others separate from the small crowd. Looking back to where he was walking, the young guy took a seriously sharp turn with his opposite leg flinging out in a girlie way. In this hall way, it led down to the stairway, and into the room[s?] were the crewmen sleep. He swung his away around to another turn, and came to his assigned hammock.
Pulling up his feather stuffed pillow, he yanked out a medium sized handgun. It was a silver like black, made mostly of metal. The handle was wooden, with the trigger cold as ice. Andres managed to snag this from a guy when they were against a few strays from this one area in Britain. Amazingly, he found this gun stranded out in the open by a dead corpse. Best he could do was steal it.
"Alright!" He huffed, shoving the gun into his broken pouch that tied against his waist. Following his small tracks back out the sunlight, he was dazed by the sun momentarily. Dang, it must be dark back in the cabins.. he murmured to himself, looking away from the rays of shine.
Ramming himself over to the edge of the boat, he was too lazy to walk all the way over to the plank that directed them off the boat. So, he jumped. His shin-high boots slapped against the planks of the dock, and little pain shot up his legs from the way he landed. At first he thought he broke something, but he regained the feeling to stand after a moment. Dizzy from the quick fall, he brushed off his knees. Quietly he prodded his gun with his hand to check it didn't fall, and his brunette eyes did the same, gazing over the pocket.
Quinn...