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Error: The name Meris Erran did not match any city records.
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You won't find me in there. They don't keep record of the homeless

|| Name: Meris Erran
|| Said: mare-ihs ee-rahn
|| Meris: Derivitive of Merissa(Latin, Ocean-loving)
|| Erran: Derivitive of Erwyn(Gaelic, beautiful)
|| Gender: Female
|| Age: 17 years
|| DOB: December 23
|| POB: Tampa, Florida
|| Residence: Streets of some city
|| Aquaintance: Skhul Alex
||Personality: Fervent, sneaky, witty, seemingly courteous
|| Blood type: AB
|| Race: Caucasian
|| Heritage: Western European, possibly Welsh
|| Eyes: Green
|| Hair: Brown/Blonde
|| Height: 5'4" (approx 1.6m)
|| Weight: 100lbs (approx 45.4kg)
|| Marking/Tattoo: See attatched image
|| Occupation: Theif
|| Intelligence: Smart, but illiterate
|| Skills: Navigation, stealth, trickery, theft, improvisation

Twelve years ago, my father was a wealthy businessman in a city far from here. One of his affiliate's offices was located in this area. A meeting was called to discuss something of dire importance. One of the days my father was to be away was my birthday, so Mother decided we would all go and have a mini-vacation. On the day of the meeting we were meant to go shopping for my present after Father was finished. Mother and I waited on the park bench across form the large office building that locked away my dad, businessmen, and company secrets. We fed pigeons, listened to the sounds of a troubadour, and saw countless official-looking men walk past. Being but five years of age, I couldn't bare to wait for my birthday present. I grew restless and bored, and my mind wandered off towards who-knows-what. 'Mommy! A butterfly!' I shouted pointed excitedly at a beautiful specimen of Monarch. 'That's great dear,' she replied, her mind else where. 'I'm gonna catch it for you!' She didn't hear me, but I hopped down off the bench and proceeded to chase the creature.
Anyone who lives in the city knows that the streets lunch hour are crowded, people on their way to there favorite cafes, diners, fast-food joints, and restaurants. I continued to chase that insect into the center of that vast flow of foot-traffic. People in black and gray suits were all I could see. From a five year-old's view, the adults were an impenetrable wall of legs. I panicked and ran in the direction I happened to be facing. All I wanted was my parents' arms wrapped around me. Had I been taller, I may have been easier to find in my bright yellow and pink sundress. As it was, I was lost in a sea of people, darting around the legs and finding my way, eventually, into an alley. I was terrified. My parents were nowhere in sight and I was in a city I'd never seen before, I didn't even know its name.

I hid myself away from the hundreds of people on the sidewalk. I curled-up inside an old cardboard box that I turned on its side. I found myself drifting away to sleep in the next twenty minutes. When I awoke, dark had already blanketed the city. I looked up to try to see what the stars were like here. I gasped and fell back in shock. How could there be no stars? A place where stars didn't even want to live couldn't have been a good city. Remember this was the thinking of a five year-old. I ran down the street I had chased the butterfly on. I found the bench where my mother and I sat. An old, gray-hair, bearded man was sleeping there. He was dressed in old, tatty clothes and smelt of garbage. 'Eew! A hobo,' I said to myself quietly. Ah, the irony. Anyways, I wandered away from the office building and found myself outside an abandoned apartment complex. It was really late and I was still tired, hungry, and cold. I crawled my way under the chain-link fencing and crept into the building. Inside I found tons of dust, spiders, and other crawly things that I was afraid of at the time. I ran up the stairs to one of the top floor apartments. There were still some sparse furnishings in the miniscule home, a chair against a wall, a broken recliner, and a coffee table. I crawled into the recliner and slept there with a spring poking my back and dust filling my nose.
Sunlight poured through the window, and noise filled the streets. Whispers of a missing five year-old from out of town lingered on people's lips. Rumors shot this way and that. Some said I'd been hit by a car, some said I was kidnapped; others insisted it was lie by my father to get attention. I mostly ate from vending machines and drank from water fountains. Soon the ten dollars spending money my mom had given me was used up. A few kind shop owners simply gave me food because I was so cute, and they figured I had no home. After two weeks the whispers had died. The news broadcasts had moved on to other topics, every now and then saying a small blurb about me. The public had stopped caring and the hope was gone in my family. I was then just another homeless child. Two years passed and I was forgotten by society. Only my family remembered, but they were far away at home to move on in their lives.

Order to Survive is an allegiance formed within the upper-class of those living in poverty. They claim their goal is to aide all members with support and order in their lives. I joined when I was 7 as a way to keep from being put in an orphanage. Back then I still believed my parents would come back and start the search for me anew. Anyways, the members who were the most helpful to everyone were a middle-class couple. They dedicated their time to helping adults find jobs and housing, education of the children (which I avoided), and providing food, water, shelter and clothing. They assigned me as an Enforcer when I was 15. I did my best, but I couldn't follow the rules they set forth myself. I found myself mixed up with the local street gangs multiple times. They aren't very large, just a group of ten or so punks that call themselves a name they find imposing, but when they are all trying to kill you they feel enormous. I had a larger appetite than the couple's money would allow to feed. I took up my old trick of pick-pocketing. The most frowned upon things I did were getting my tattoo and piercing my skin. They thought it made me look too much like the 'normal' people. They kicked me out and I got these clothes as a parting gift. Now I pick-pocket all my food money. I hope one day I'll stumble upon enough to feed me and get me some shoes and socks.

1. Respect your elders
2. Do as the Enforcers say
3. Avoid the gangs/mob at all costs
4. Know your enemy
5. Keep your friends close
6. Keep your enemies far away
7. Don't let anyone know about our lifestyle
8. Only allow people to see that you're homeless, no more
9. Enforcers must not steal
10. LIVE

:Steals money, watches, jewelry and assorted items of worth
:Pawns off items for cash
:That cash is used for food, laundry, and on very rare occasions when she steals something worth a lot, hotel rooms
:Can often befound sitting on hoods of abandoned cars, outside of parks, in alleys and parking garages, outside of rundown apartment complexes and stores, and on the bench infront of the office building her father had the meeting as if she is waiting
:Yes, as mentioned above, she does wash her clothes and herself
:If cleaned up properly would probably be fairly attractive
:Doesn't hate people with money, but wishes they'd help more
:Hasn't eaten beef in nine years
:Has only had water and milk to drink for seven years
:Is a rather pleasant person most of the time
:Mirrors people's attitudes (mean to her, she's mean back)
:Rarely talks to any other homeless people
:Somewhat egotistical
:Enjoys catching rats and bringing them to alley-cats to chase
:Often will watch families in parks jealously

A teenager of 17 sat with her back against to cold glass wall of a run-down electronics store. Old window paint announcing Christmas sales, even though it was July, was pealing back in vibrant red strips. The dingy window added to the all around dirty look to this part of the city. Average people strode along the sidewalk on their way to work, some casting sidelong glances at the girl, but most simply ignoring her. They went about their business with her as they had for twelve years. They ignored her unless she had something to say. The tanned face of the teen was dirtied and unevenly toned. Her shoulder length, red-brown hair was greasy and simply finger-combed with some attempt at a part-way decent appearance. Her choppy bangs fell in front of her dark forest green eyes, slightly red and tired looking. The ends of her bangs were a orange-blonde shade, mixing in with the brown ever so slightly. "Excuse me," she said to the nearest passer-by, extending her dirty hand in greeting. He looked at her face, and then her hand with a dark gaze. She lowered her hand and smiled. "My name's Meris. I was wondering if you could tell me what city this is?" The middle-aged man laughed and walked away. "What are you, stupid?" he called back.

Meris glared back at him and went back to trying her best to hear the news broadcast playing inside the store. "And another memorable moment has occured," the anchorwoman's voice drifted away under the footfalls of the working class. "Poverty levels are increasing yet again here in..." Meris didn't stay to listen to that. She stood and started weaving her way through the crowd. People were appalled at her clothes. Her feet were bare, her pants were filthy and torn, and her originally white, mid-drift exposing, long sleeve shirt was bloodstained and turned to light, dingy beige. Glinting silver caught other people's eyes. Her ears were double pierced with the cartilage pierced in the right. The cartilage piercing, a hoop earring with a heart charm, was caked with dried blood around the openings. The piercing on her navel was the same way. The low back, of her shirt exposed part of a tattoo. A pair of wings, but they were only the wings' bones. Barbed wire wrapped around them, appearing to slice her flesh with inked blood trails. She brought her hand to her neck and started spinning the pearl at the bottom of the Lagu rune pendant on her black corded choker.

She scouted out a man and made towards him. Her shoulder collided with his and his breifcase dropped to the ground and fell open. "Oh, I'm so sorry," apologized Meris as she helped the man collect the contents of his briefcase, "I must have zoned out a little, I didn't mean into run into you." He nodded to her and started back on his way to work. Meris slipped her hand into her back pocket and pulled out a brown leather wallet. "Hmm, I wonder what we have here," she grinned. Meris turned into an alleyway and perched herself on top of a large plastic trash can. She opened the wallet and peered inside. "Looks like enough for food today, maybe a bit tomorrow." She slipped the money out and slid the bills into her pocket. She rushed into the crowd and found her way back to the owner of the wallet. "Sir! You left your wallet back there! That'd be a bad thing to lose," she chuckled as she handed it to him. He nodded and smiled and kept walking. "That was too easy," Meris laughed, going back to her post at the store front. The co-anchor's muffled voice reached her ears from the inside, "Now, let's see how the forecast is looking for this week." People passed by her as she listened for the weather forecast.