Pen's posts = tl;dr

Robert Ton'or kneels down on the grass, his eyes checking and rechecking the spot around him. The area seemed peaceful enough, though his wary bones were telling him any spot would be good. He took out the four pokeballs from his pocket, each all labeled with the nicknames he had given Robert. The trainer believed that the deadly sins were what made humans... well, humans. He figured pokemon were the same way, a theory of his that every life- human or pokemon- is equal. Robert set three of the pokeballs down (Greed, Lust and Wrath,) while gripping the pokeball labeled 'Sloth' in hand. Sloth, a Geodude, was his starter pokemon, and his first ever friend. He was used for battling, and has yet to lose one. He enjoyed staying in the pokeball as well as hurling rocks, at either friend or foe. He clicked the white button on the pokeball, expecting it to open and unleash Sloth. It did, and the Geodude let out a cry in which he said his own name. He set the empty pokeball aside, though it would have been easier to put it back in his pocket. His arm then reached for Greed's pokeball. Greed the Sandshrew was essentially Robert's partner and favorite. Although he used to have a deathly fear of water and birds, Greed once saved Robert from drowning. Later though, the trainer taught Greed to swim, all that's left is to find a way around the phobia of birds. Often, Robert would let Greed walk with him instead of staying in the comforts of the pokeball. Slowly, his index finger found its way to the white button on the center of the pokeball and pressed it, Greed coming out the same way Sloth had, reciting its own name. The only difference was that Greed waved at Robert. The Sandshrew learned a lot from mimicing humans, understanding most motions and gestures. Robert waved back with a strong smile and a sense of affection while Sloth watched in slight confusion. Robert placed Greed's empty pokeball in his pocket, and now realizing he hadn't done so for Sloth's, did so now. Next, Robert would take Wrath's pokeball. He was unsure how he felt about Wrath. In mostly everything he could think of, Wrath was useless. Wrath was a Magikarp, and a fairly weak one at that. Still, potential seemed to squirt out of the Magikarp, and he got strong quickly, especially considering he was extremely weak and frail from the beginning. He sighed and let out the magikarp, though Wrath came out silently, flopping around. Wrath still wasn't used to being on land. Finally, Robert took Lust's pokeball without even putting Wrath's back and clicked the white button. Lust was a Butterfree, and a pretty one at that. It had a way of using its attacks for performances to entertain others. Lust was new, so Robert didn't know so much about her. As she came out, something graceful and magestic filled her presence. "Free, free!" It said soothingly, as if singing a song. He looked at the four pokemon, putting away the two empty pokeballs in his separate hands, and took in a deep breath. "We're going to hae a picnic," he said calmly, though only Greed seemed to be excited. Reaching into his pocket, Robert pulled out two handfuls of berries and a bottle of water. He placed the berries down in front of him, and held up the water bottle. "If any of you guys are thirsty, drink from this." He then demonstrated, unsure of any of his pokemon understood him. Robert then motioned to the berries. He separated them into different piles by what type of berries they were. Pecha- Greed's favorite-, Cheri, which was Sloth's, Aspear, which was Lust's, and Leppa, which was Wrath's, as well as Oran berries and Liechi. He clapped twice, signaling them to begin, and Greed was the first one to dive into the berries, eating not only the Pecha berries but the Oran as well. Robert watched happily as joy filled the pokemon's faces, stuffing their stomaches. It's been a while since they last had a picnic, and Sloth and Greed were exhausted from training. Robert took a sip from the water bottle, seeing as none of the pokemon paid attention to it. In the end, no berries were left and they still haven't drank from the water bottle. Robert stood up, taking the empty pokeballs out. He aimed the respective empty pokeball at their donors and pressed the white button to return them. He headed off, venturing the forest, in search of a Pokecenter. Robert's legs were ready to give up, but his will wasn't. Pewter's pokecenter was usually filled with a person or two, and he liked to meet new people- or speak with old ones- so he decided he'd head there next. It was all a part of his plan to take a break from training.

Ema Ryan. Physics-nerd, girl-gamer, archetypical geek and surprisingly lacking in common sense and spatial awareness. And in spite of all of these things, she could still be considered really rather intelligent and sharp. So that's why, as she came to - for the second time in quick succession - it didn't take her long to flit from "Okay where the hell am I!?" through "Wait, is this wood?" and on to the inevitable conclusion "Oh God, that auditorium was real."

Wishful thinking. That's what it had come down to at the time, as she'd sat there, drowsy from the considerable dose of sedative she'd inhaled, clearly measured for the largest person on the bus and not her puny frame, she'd not tried to struggle. She simply took in all that was happening with a sort of vague interest, happily assuming she'd fallen asleep on the bus and was experiencing a surprisingly lucid dream. A rather unimaginative dream, at that; the faces of the people she didn't know were covered, and the setting was lifted from that TV show she occasionally watched. All a terrible dream, she'd chosen to believe.

So, lying face-down on the moist wood of an aged and poorly maintained pier was quite a shock, but not really a surprise, given time to mull it over. The bus driver had been in league with that Danya guy, the weird black hat must have been a gasmask like in the big hall, and Ema herself was certainly not at the campground she'd anticipated.

"No time like the present.." Ema muttered to herself, and rose to a kneeling position, then stood, looking about to get an idea of her surroundings. 'If I'm supposed to survive here, better get my bearings..' she reasoned.

The area was quite unspectacular, just an old wooden dock, no buildings in sight, surrounded on one side by water (duh) and the other by swampland, the two bordered by a thin stretch of pale yellow sand. All in all, it looked like the perfect set for a horror movie finale... now that was a discomforting thought.

The only part that really interested Ema - causing her heart to quicken with hope for a few seconds - was the sailboat moored at the far end of her pier. But alas, even to layman's eyes, it was clear to see that the vessel wasn't even close to sailable, what with all the seawater weighing it down, and the reef piercing it's hull in a few places.

Eventually, the girl's eyes fell upon a small duffle bag, that had evaded her notice for the first few seconds by virtue of being small, on the floor, a fairly similar colour to the woodwork, and of course, Ema's own weak observation skills - besides, she was looking at the environment, not for stuff... that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

The little of Survival of the Fittest that Ema had seen quickly told her that this bag was her "daypack", filled with some limited rations, first aid equipment and a random weapon of some kind. "Now," she caught herself hoping, unzipping the bag and rummaging through the essentials "As long as there's some kinda rifle or pistol in there that I can handle...", that wishful train of thought was quickly cut short as she finally closed her hand around the one out-of-place item within. Her response could likely be heard for quite some distance: "Okay, what the fuck am I meant to do with this!?". Yup, she'd been assigned a joke weapon, a useless piece of junk she couldn't even use for a non-combat purpose, a bit of Harry Potter merchandise - a replica time-turner, the sort of thing that can't even be used properly as an hourglass.

With the grim revelation "I am so bloody dead." ringing inside her mind, Ema wandered along to the very end of the pier, sat down with her legs dangling over the edge, and tried to think of some kind of plan, some possible way of surviving an island of desperate teenagers, all better armed and most more fit than she. "This," she said aloud, but under her breath, "Is going to take a fucking miracle."

Ema's eyes widened at the sight of what Eve had produced. She recognised it, but couldn't quite put a name to it, for in her many hours trawling through random subjects on Wikipedia, she'd come to decide that Mamelukes had very awesome swords. What Eve had wasn't quite the same thing, longer and more curved, but the general aesthetic was much the same, and the sword was certainly quite awesome. All she had to say on the matter was "You lucky..."

And then the second - or from Ema's perspective, third - newcomer approached, hands high in the air, a gesture of peace, despite the crowbar clenched in one of them. She was an odd looking one, mainly because pretty much everything about her was obscured by caked-on mud, which the redhead presumed was for camoflague in the swamp. What she could make out was pretty average, generic height and build at least.

“Looks like we’ve found our next contestant on ‘The Price is Right.’”

That had Ema stifling a laugh, just at the sheer randomness of the choice of phrase. She'd watched it a few times, weird show, not really her thing, but Brucie's classy catchphrases really were memorable. She managed to resist the urge to tell Michelle to "Come on down!", too, instead staying silent as the girl introduced herself.

"Alright I'm not sure if you guys have notice me but... I come in peace for now. Temporary truce. Whatever you like to call it. My name is Michelle O'Cain."

Didn't sound familiar. But... temporary truce? Which is to say, I'll not attack you for as long as it's convenient, then when you're useless, I'll kill you all? Way to be obvious, lady.

"I uhhh... I would also like to know if there was anything I could trade for that sword of yours miss... What's your name... I'll be willing to give up my crowbar and other supplies for it."

Had Ema thought the 'temporary truce' goof was obvious? She corrected herself. Offering to trade a handy tool - and being thick metal, good blocking implement - for a deadly deadly sword, that's the obvious part. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Michelle was just trying to get as much as she could out of the three of them, whether or not she planned to off them all afterwards. The revelation of that hit Ema pretty hard. Already, here was someone camoflaguing herself, trying to optimise her equipment for killing, making convenient 'temporary truces'. Already playing along. Already preparing to hunt and kill her friends and peers.

Only a few hours in, and this was already happening. For those few hours, Ema herself had been subconsciously convincing herself that everything was fine. She'd chose to ignore it when her conscious mind had brought up the gravity of the situation. She hadn't wanted to know what she was getting into. Having what she'd tried to hard to ignore thrust straight into her face was a crippling blow. As if physically struck by the thought, Ema released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding in.

Almost three hundred students. She didn't know many of them. She wouldn't have the chance. For all but one of them were going to die.

Ema held her tongue. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do any more.

Her smile turned to a neutral expression. Neutral, and hollow. Empty.

She didn't want to die.