(Pfff, I guess I'm able to stay on the computer. :D  That was a surprising thing. Bio comin' up below dis~)

NAME: Shay Peyel
AGE: Just turned 12 a few months back.
GENDER: Female.
LANGUAGE/FLUENCY: Shay is fluent in English, of course.  She also speaks German and Bosnian fluently, along with some beginner-level Spanish. [And I actually speak these languages like this, so it's possible.]
FIGHTING SKILLS: Average.
SHIRT COLOR: Gray.
LOOKS: Grrr. I have a picture, but she's 14-15 in that one. Here's a deion instead, then:
Shay has long, medium-brown hair that she either lets down or puts up in a ponytail - it depends on the occasion.  NO bangs, though!  She has lightly tanned skin (a natural one, of course.  She'd never go in a tanning booth) and light pink-ish lips.  Her eyelashes are a true black, lot a light black, and they are sort of long.. about a medium.  That's why she doesn't really wear mascara - she doesn't need it much.  Plus, she doesn't like it.  Shay's eyes are a very dark, deep green with brown flecks nearing the black pupil.  She is quite fit body weight-wise.
PERSONALITY: Shay is typically nice, kind and caring. But when you get her angry she will lash out verbally and/or physically. Every once in a while, she acts like a kid, though.
FRIENDS: Mara Philson!~
FAMILY: No family at all.  She was an only child and her parents died.
HISTORY: Prefers not to talk about it.

((OK Guys, I guess we can go ahead, and emeraldwing is just going to have to catch up. I'll post my intro with Mara as she was my first charrie ^^.))

I groan as my alarm brings annoyingly to tell me that, "Yes, you must get up.". Again, "Yes, you must get up.". Again, "Yes, you must get up, NOW!". I find my feet by the edge of the bed, and slide slowly onto them. I wander around my room for some time until I find my shower. I don't turn any of the lights on as I go, and I take my shower, hot and in the dark, because it's like an extra ten minutes of sleep. 

Twenty mintues later and I'm up, and dressed. I quickly look over my room, pretty much spotless except for the bed, which is still unmade, and the pile of school books in the corner next to my bag which looks scruffy and used. I turn around quickly, and push open the door. The hallway is long and contains at least twenty other doors to other bedrooms. It doesn't look like many people are up yet, as I peep my head out to do a survey of the area.

I creep out slowly, quietly pushing my door closed again. I head down the nine flights of stairs as the elevator has an "Out of Use" sign pinned on it. I'm breathing hard and I need a cold drink by the time I enter the cafeteria. I look around tentatively, trying to see who out of my age group is already here. Not many are. I spot a group of boisterous ten year olds, and a few, trying-to-look-cool fifteen year olds, but no one even close to my age.

I make my way over to a clean table and sit down with a sigh. CHERUB so far had turned out to be nothing more than a social embarrassement for me. I look around again, trying to seem less awkward, although that's impossible. Finally I stand, and walk over to the self-serve buffet, grabbing a small, one serving carton of milk as I go. I also pick an apple. I'm not really that hungry.

I make my way over to the table nearest to me, so I wont have to be on the spotlight for much longer. I feel as if the few kids that are in this room are staring at me, watching my every move, judging me, like a hawk over a kill. I sit down, and take a bite into my apple, trying to act normal. But I can't. I'm an anxious, social-wreck of a spy.

Kirsty walked into the Cafeteria as she walked in she went to the line grabbed a drink and walked back out. From the clothes she was wearing it was clear she had just come back from a late nigth mission the ones where only the older agents could go on for safty reasons and also why would a young child be out late at night anyway. As she opened her drink she went to the training room.

She wouldn't sleep until tonight even though she had been up for over 48 hours. She knew it would mess with her inner clock and she would rather stay up then sleep. She suffered from insomnia and it was hard for her to sleep on a good day never mind when it came to missions. She walked into the training room and started on her morning training keeping her body fit was her love in life she didn't want to end up being slow and weak.

(Hmmm.... are they friends already? ._. )

Shay annoyedly woke up and reached over to her phone which was playing a ringtone to wake her up.  Shutting off the alarm, the girl reluctantly slid out of bed and got ready for the day.  Some black pants and a blue short-sleeve shirt was what she was going to wear today.  Next came making her bed.  Finishing everything quickly, she went to the cafeteria.  The buffet had quite a bit to offer, but she didn't need much this morning.   Taking a plate, Shay took a single slice of French toast and poured syrup beside it.  Along with that came a napkin and a carton of chocolate milk.  What will today be like?  she pondered.  Looking around for a spot to sit down, she found one by a girl named Mara.  Settling down, she started to eat her breakfast.  The French toast was having its crust ripped off and nibbled on.  Eh... she felt like eating slowly right now.  No need to rush at the moment.

((Sorry for the long wait. Got tied up in things. Anyway, here's Eric:))

I wandered down the lengthy hall towards the cafeteria, where already noise from bustling kids all pushing each otehr farther down te breakfast line could be heard echoing off of the white, almost plastic looking, walls. I walked slowly, almost lazily, saving my energy for training later. I walked straight past the cafeteria doors, not even bothering to peer in.

The hall ended almost abruptely, and then there were two, glass doors that broke out onto the field where most of the little kids played. I pushed open the doors, careful not to leave my fingerprints on teh already scratched and worn glass. I slipped outside, into the bright sunlight which fills every crack.

The annoying tunes of little song bird fill my ears, and I pick up the pace. It dicomforts me to be out in this bright light, with all this hapinnes around. I hastily make my way toward an almost rounded building, the training quarter. I slip inside the heavy, metal doors, and make my way toward the equipment, and the only other CHERUB agent there. "Hello Kirsty." I said.

((Nah, I find third person harder, and my post will get incredibly shorter. These are just their intro's so they have to be long. I promise after this, they'll become more frequent. This is Jacob, btw.))

I can feel the mud sinking into my shoes, the branches scraping against my bare skin, and my arms and legs pushing forward. Yet I prevail. It's 5:47 am, and I'm on the Basic Training Track, which includes a 50-meter swim, a tunnel that is splattered with mud, sewage and who knows what else, and a 2 mile jog, followed by a torturing rope climb up 75-meters to the finish. Whoever finishes last has to do it all again, except in less than ten minutes. I'm in second place.

I can feel something slimy rub against my leg, and I don't look down, or the stench will probably make me puke. I can see the end of the tunnel. There is no daylight yet, but the moon gives off a certain glow. I run through, my muddy and holed trainers squelching in the mud behind me. As I leave the tunnel, I stand up tall. I stretch and begin to run. Two Miles would usually of killed me, or at least make me thrown up, back in my old school, but here, I have hardened. 

I run fast, hard, pushing myself. I pass the person in first place, a strong, long-legged girl who looks like the Two Miles is really getting to her. I run even faster, sweat pouring from my head and body. "I must win, I must win, I must win" I chant this to myself. Pure determination doesn't get you through here, true grit does.

I can see the end of my  final lap ahead, when a small boy begins to come up behind me. He looks like an olympic runner by the way he runs. I keep moving forward, not going to give up my prime position that easily. The boy just moves faster and faster, not even looking at me as he paces. He reaches the rope climb first, and starts to inch his way up. I take a running leap, and land almost a meter up already.

The rope is hard and worn, and it burns my fingers, but I hold on, determined to not fail. I reach up, and grap the rope ahead of me. My fingers burn as I pull all my weight up. It goes like this for a while. I'mlosing the battle, I can tell, but I look up, and I can see my instructor, gleaming evilly at me, only a few meters away.

I pull myself up more, blood seeping from the previosu welts and blisters. Only a few more feet to go. I can see that the scrawny boy has already made it up, and is chugging some luke-warm water. The drops splash against his face, almost as if to tempt me, and they drop to the mud encrusted floor. I push myself up again, and I reach the top.

Mr. Large, the instructor, looks put down that I made it up without crying, but he says, "Second place. Fine." I look in disbelief at the man that has tortured me for the past 97 days. Not once have I ever heard him give anyone a compliment. He turns away as there is nothing unusual about what he just said, and I move over to the water bottles, too tired to dig in further. I chug the water greedily,  watching the other competitors struggle at the ropes, and even on just ending the Two Mile Run. I selfishly don't even offer a word of encouragment. That's how it works here.

((This is Eric. Mara will come later))

"Yeah. Thought I'd come see if you wanted to do some Karate? You know, teach me a few things?" I say, smmiling my perfect smile. Kirsty was still in Mission wear, and I could tell that she wasn't going to change until later. I however, am wearing jeans, and my black CHERUB shirt. I look over the weights and such, testign them, seeing which one would be best for me. I pick up the 25 Pound-er, and test it, flexing my biceps at the same time. Really I'm just trying to impress Kirsty, but if that didn't work, the Karate was always a good plan.

(Ugh, it's so short Dx . I can't think of much more though. Sorry fox!))

((its ok XD))

Kirsty walked over to him and reached into her bag taking out what looked wrist bands and leg bands. "Here put these on" she said giving them to him. What he didn't know was in the bands where 30 pounds of weights in each band it helped while training or even while walking around it is a constant training with the bands on and she wanted to see how he would react with the knew total of 120 pounds weight added to his own weight.

She had 40 pound bands on for training 25 pound bands on for everything else. She did this so she was never not training her body, even while she was training her mind. It made her feel better about herself knowing she was training with the weights even when she didn't need to.