Young Writers Society

Name: Henry 'Harry' Croft

Age: 20 (turning 21 on April 14th 1912 - 17th July 2010)

Gender: Male

Class: Third

Why's s/he on board?: Like most third class passengers, Harry''s trying to make his fortune in America.

Character History: Harry comes from a poor family based in Liverpool. His father was a shipbuilder there, and earned just enough to keep a living for his wife and two children. Two years back, Henry Croft Snr was crushed to death in a building accident, leaving Harry in charge of his mother and sister, Georgia. Harry tried his best to support his family throughout those two years, but without much success. Eventually he was given the opportunity to head out to the American West and try and seek a fortune by a friend, who had bought two tickets for the new ship Titanic. Harry agreed, and promised to return with enough money so that his mother and sister could live respectfully. So Harry set off for Southampton with James Parker, destined for 'The New World'.

Appearance: Harry is tall - approximately 6'2, with a lean but muscular build. He has dark brown hair and green eyes - his main feature.

Personality: Harry is kind by nature, but his situation in society has made him wary to others, so at first he may not come off as the nicest person. He has a good sense of humour, which some times borderlines sarcastic, and is very socialable. He does have manners beyond his station - that was one thing his mother had taught him well. He is very passionate, especially about current affairs and the ideas of class and separation.

Up for Love?: Definitely.

Name: Phillipe Laurent

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Class: First Class

Why's s/he on board? An escape from the pressures of home. Phillipe's passage on the Titanic are the result of a somewhat irrational attempt to get away from his responsibilities.

Character History: Phillipe is the closest heir to a French barony. He has three younger sisters at home in addition to his ailing father. Phillipe's father is growing old, and Phillipe knows it. When his father dies, Phillipe will need to inherit his father's title and take on the responsibilities of the "family business". Phillipe, always the gentle and artistic type, does not want anything to do with it. He's boarded the Titanic in order to get away from his family and clear his head. In other words, he's run away.

Appearance: Phillipe had a groomed and pampered look about him. He favors light linens in his clothing. Phillipe is tall, thin, and has light brown hair. He has hazel eyes and a smattering of freckles.

Personality: Phillipe thinks of himself as very worldly, but in reality Phillipe knows little. He's naive, but very proper. Phillipe has a very open air about him, and is eager to learn and try new things. To the lower classes, he can be frustrating. Phillipe has never known anything but luxury. It would take quite a bit of effort for Phillipe to realize that people fight for their daily life. For example, he'll see the struggling life of a poor fisherman as quaint until Phillipe himself is forced to live in those conditions. Above all, Phillipe is a free spirit, and does not want to be tied down.

Up for Love? Yes, of course.

Name: Allison Mitchell

Age: Twenty

Gender: Female

Class: Third (Steerage)

Why's s/he on board? Allison's parents have just passed away. She has no other relatives, and is hoping she can develop her skills as a violinist and make more money in America.

Character History: Allison was born on April 2nd, 1892, in London. She was the daughter of two German tailors who had immigrated to England in hopes of a better life. While they were able to make ends meet, there still wasn't much money to go around. Allison couldn't go to school-- her parents taught her to read and write, and she picked up basic math from old textbooks that her parents had owned. When Allison was nine, she heard someone playing a violin and decided that she wanted to play too. She saved up her money and was able to buy one. She taught herself, and thus practiced day in and day out.

Appearance: Allison is quite tall; 5'9, with a slender body. She has pale skin with just a hint of sun-tan; her long, wavy blond hair frames her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks are rosy and freckled, her eyes a wide, light almond brown. Her eyebrows are thin and curved. She wears simple cotton dresses of various colors, along with dark brown slip-on shoes.

Personality: Allison is quiet and sweet, with an air of innocence about her. She is devoted and brave, although sometimes she can be anti-social. Even though she hates being poor, she tries not to complain about it too much and make the most it. However, she isn't the best at keeping her negative thoughts private.

Up for Love? Definitely

Name: Henry Walsworth

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Class: Second

Why's s/he on board?: To open a bicycle repair shop (his dream job) in America.

Character History: He came from a fairly well off family that was always very supportive. When he turned 12 he was sent to a boarding school in the English country side. The dormitories were located half a mile from the building, so most kids resorted to taking bicycles to the school. This led to a love of bicycles. He returned home and began tinkering with various bikes and eventually convinced his parents to pay his way to America so he could set up shop in America.

Appearance: Light brown hair, 6 feet tall, wears modest suits and lets his short (albeit wavy) hair do its own thing. Always has a nice smile across his face. Light blue eyes.

Personality: As a young boy, his parents supported him in his endeavors and were very kind to him. This resulted in him growing up and being a very gentle person. He dislikes conflict and tries to befriend everyone or make them laugh. He'll basically do whatever it takes to NOT get punched. He is a proper gentleman but is also quite shy and gets nervous around women. He makes friends easily and quickly and is very kind.

Up for Love? Yeppers peppers!

((I guess we're starting then! I'll do some omniscient narrative before we get going, just to set the scene. I'm going to write in present tense, generally, because I'm more comfortable with that, but it's up to you how you write.))

It's nearly noon on April 10th, 1912, and Southampton pier has come alive with crowds, waiting for the departure. The Titanic waits expectantly alongside it, people squeezed onto the decks, for the last passengers to board. When 1st class board, you come into a room with beautiful white paneling and ornately decorated ceiling. You are greeted by a steward or stewardess and are escorted to your rooms. In 2nd class, you enter into a stairway with beautiful oak banisters and lovely oak paneling with windows that made the room look nice and bright. Then, you have to find a steward or stewardess to escort you and carry your luggage. In 3rd class, you enter through the lowest gangway and see a room with white metal and wooden deck floors with also teak strips on the walls. In front of you are three stairs leading downward with metal deck railings and wooden deck stairs.

Jessie, 11:45, April 10th 1912

She can see the New York bobbing alongside the vast hulk that is Titanic, and she wonders how it feels to be looking up at this master of engineering like the ant that you are. She is privileged; George's arm is wrapped around her and she beams at passing women just as a newlywed should. In fact, she has managed to secure a position so that she can stare at the rather good-looking man, about her age with a puppy dog smile on his face, standing in second class. Despite the crowds, she's managed to keep an eye on him and edge George closer to him. When she waves back to the pier, she ensures that she turns slowly enough so as to catch the young man's eye, and then quickly look away.

The other first class passengers swarm around Jessie, returning from their staterooms nearby, and she feels momentarily out of place next to all these well-dressed wives who'll be her neighbours for the voyage. It doesn't escape George's notice.

"Jessica? Are you feeling ill? I've never seen you look so pale." There's genuine concern in his voice, and Jessie suddenly feels guilty. George has a habit of making her feel this way, and she hates it. Impulsively, she decides to make him forget his worries.

"It's the powder, Mr Hartland, that it is," she drawls, dropping into an American accent that earns her a few strange looks from the other passengers. She smiles dopily and George laughs a little, but his eyes narrow into little slits and he says nothing, preferring instead to address a stewardess and enquire about the welfare of the luggage. Jessie rolls her eyes and looks back to the second class boat deck, where the young man she's been staring at is now staring back at her.

((If you read the timeline, you'll see that the Titanic had a near miss before she set off. If you want to write the "launch post" as such, please remember that. ))

11:50am 10th April 1912, Harry Croft

James and I stand at the rear of the Titanic, leaning against the balcony of this grand ship. Hundreds of other third class passengers wave to people in the crowd, who are cheering goodbyes in time to the deafening roar of the steam funnels. James runs his hands along the freshly painted wood.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" His Liverpudlian accent is thick as he admires the wonder that is the Titanic. I have to admit shock when we first arrived at Southampton. The shadow of the steam liner had darkened out entire streets, she was that grand.
"Pity those tickets don't get us into First Class," I laughed back, watching as a man walked up the First Class boards, his small brown haired wife on his arms. Behind them, a steward worked at balancing a couple of trunks and a large air dale at the same time. Turning, I shook my head. Instead of watching what was going on in the crowd, I turned my attentions to the crew, who I could see running around in preparation's for the Titanic's departure.
"They call her unsinkable," James yelled over the crowd, banging his foot against the white paint a couple of times. I hadn't heard a lot about 'The Grandest Ship of all Time', or so the newspapers called it, until a couple of days ago when James had offered me the ticket.
"Nothing's unsinkable," I replied.
"Be careful what you say there, lad." I turned my head. A man, around my own age, with thick curly red hair smiled back at me. "There's folks on 'ere that'll say that's a bad omen, calling an unsinkable ship sinkable. Scott McGregor." He held out a hand, and I took it.
"Harry Croft, James Parker," I replied back, James reaching around me to shake Scott's hand.
"She certainly is beautiful though," James said, squinting in the sunlight.
Scott nodded. "Och aye, that she is. This'll be the grandest thing on the planet, this trip."
He was right. Though we were Third Class - steerage, unwanted - this was still the Titanic, the grandest ship of all time.

((I'm not posting again today until someone posts a launch piece, so that everyone gets their penny's worth in. The last person to post their "introduction" - or first character post - will have to round off the day by arriving in Cherbourg, I guess. It'd be great if we can keep the posts chronological, e.g. I post at 11:45 am, you post at 11:50, the next at 12:00, maybe the next mid-afternoon. The 10th's a bit difficult because of all the stuff that happens, but the 11th, 12th and 13th will be much easier, I think. Sorry to be so controlling as a creator; I'm just trying to ensure this gets off the ground. I promise I'll back off. xD))

[Jet-- I'll do it]

Allison Mitchell |11:52 AM
April 10th, 1912

The sheer size of the Titanic had Allison frozen with pure marvel. Now she could see why it was called the grandest ship in the world. It must have taken a year to build, if not more. She held her ticket tightly in her hand as she read what it said; R.M.S. Titanic, Allison Leila Mitchell. Third Class, Cabin 35e. She'd worked for a very long time to get the money for this, and she wasn't going to loose it. Allison stared at the huge masses of people in third-class and sighed waiting in line to board last minute. It looked like she only had to go through a bag-check and lice inspection; they both seemed to move pretty quickly.

Allison slung her bag over her shoulder and began to wait in line. There were people from all over Europe, chatting in various languages and generally seeming excited. She craned her neck up and noticed that everyone was gathering on the top deck to wave bye to family members and friends. Allison had neither to watch her depart, but she figured that she would do it anyway. It might be the only chance she would get to go up there during the voyage. She wasn't sure if people in third class were allowed outside their section.

She finished both inspections and was finally able to board. Looking at her ticket, she found her room. It was a lot nicer then what she would have expected for third class. She noticed that the bed was a bunk bed--she wasn't aware that anyone else would be sharing her room with her. Would that person come? What would they be like? She set her stuff on the bed and ran out to the top deck, tailing behind a first class couple.

It was only after she arrived, again surrounded by masses of people, that it really hit Allison that this was actually happening. Here she was, on the grandest ship in the word, which some had called unsinkable, on her way to start a new life in America. A horn blew, and the Titanic began to depart.

"Goodbye!" Allison yelled, waving. "Goodbye!" Soft tears began to roll down her cheeks.

((Thanks muchly, Elinor. I'll slip into past tense again, then, so we're all on the same page.))

Jessie, 13:50, April 10th 1912

The launch had come and gone, and with it, the young man with the quirky smile had disappeared. Jessie had looked away almost as soon as she had seen him, but she wondered now whether he would remember her face, startlingly white, like a ghost's as she leaned across the railings.

Now, she sat next to George at a table of misguided aristocrats, attempting to pronounce the French menu. Jessie had steered well clear of any attempt to do so and was instead haughtily sipping her wine, studying her reflection in the silverware. On her left, George was engaged in conversation with about the play he'd bought tickets to see when they arrived in New York. The woman he was speaking to was obviously bored, but attempted to nod at regular intervals. Jessie smirked.

There was an empty seat at her right. Without any of her natural grace, she leaned across it and prodded the fairly elderly man who was sitting nearby. He flinched.

"Who's sitting there, sir? Is it reserved?" she asked, with all the pomp she could muster.

"It will be one of the men who boards at Cherbourg, I think," he replied, trying to avert his eyes from her very low-cut dress. Jessie tugged her shawl over the neckline. She could feel the word "whore" drilling into her neck. "The name sounded French, if I recall."

"I see." Jessie returned to gazing about, taking in the beautiful white array throughout the room. Tonight, they would eat up to seven courses in honour of the maiden voyage, and apparently there would be an anonymous Frenchman at her side. Jessie was dreading it already.

**I hope no one minds me skipping ahead a few hours, just so I can have Phillipe board. Let me know if this is a problem, and I can replace this with an earlier post.

Phillipe / 10 April, 1912 / 6:30 PM

Phillipe watched in awe as the the magnificent ship docked at the port. Phillipe's grip on his ticket tightened in excitement. The descriptions of the ship had not exaggerated. The Titanic was perhaps one of the most awe-inspiring structures Phillipe had ever seen.

Before long, a stewardess was showing Phillipe the way to his stateroom. Phillipe smiled as he entered. When he had first bought his ticket, Phillipe had taken the opportunity to treat himself to one of the more luxurious rooms. Father wouldn't be all together pleased with Phillipe for it when he got back, but Phillipe was not particularly concerned with what Father would think. If Phillipe were to be totally honest with himself, he was not sure that he would ever return to France. America was famed to be the golden country for all. Perhaps it would suit Phillipe to stay there.

Settling himself comfortably in a chair, Phillipe allowed the stewardess to unpack his baggage for him. He could hear the sounds of movement grow more sparse outside the door. Phillipe made a note to himself to get out of his room in time to see the ship depart. That would still be a good few hours from now, but he still wanted to see it.

The stewardess finished unpacking Phillipe's things. He tipped her generously and drifted out to the decks of the ship. Paris was glittering before him. It was home to Phillipe, but he had never looked at it so dispassionately. Phillipe sincerely hoped that the sea and America would rejuvenate him.

Phillipe absently checked his pocket watch. Nearly 7:00 now. Dinner would be served soon. Phillipe decidedly made his way down to the dining room.

Henry/April 10th/7:05 PM

Henry meandered through the library, taking in the massive book lined walls. He had always enjoyed the smell of books. They made him feel at home. He grabbed a random book off the shelf and perused it idly, replaying the events of the day in his mind, from boarding, to seeing his room, his mother's tearful embrace as he left home. There was one, however, that stuck in his mind more than the others. He'd been standing there, waiting to board, when he suddenly found himself looking into the eyes of a young, pale woman. No, no. Surely she wasn't looking at him. It had to be someone else. He glanced at his watch, at saw that it was getting to be dinner time. Replacing the book (although making note of it so he could read it later) he headed for the second class dining hall.

~Karidee~ April 10th/ 7:20pm

The boat was simply amazing. Once I boarded, It was around dinner time, so I went straight to the second class dining hall. There was so much to do! The first thing on my list, was the library, I loved to read, and I loved the sea, that on it's own would make this trip great.I opened the door to the dining hall, the decorations were beautiful, I had never seen anything this beautiful in my life! But, that wasn't saying much, since I was poor. There was a large amount of people in the room, so it was hard getting around, but that didn't matter to me. I was just grateful that I could be on the ship, especially on second class, this was something that normally only happens in dreams.

((It's all fine. I'm going to do two posts, and one will cover the next morning.))

Jessie, 19:30, April 10th 1912

As she left the dining room, Jessie passed a young man rushing towards the steward standing at the door. He spoke quickly in French before switching to slightly jerky English, but the steward merely shook his head. Dinner hours were over. The young man whispered hastily, pointing to himself, and the steward nodded and disappeared inside. A few moments later, the young man was admitted to the dining room. Jessie wondered if he was the mysterious guest whom she was to sit next to at tea tonight.

She had taken to the promenade at teatime today, only returning for supper, and explaining away her absence as illness. In reality, she had been wandering around the decks, glancing at the lifeboats. Did a ship this size even need them?

Jessie, 11:30, April 11th 1912 - Queenstown

The ship had been moored and Jessie was once again standing out on the decks. She hoped there was to be no repeat of the terrifying ordeal of the near miss with the New York. George had said it was an ominous start to the voyage, but Jessie had shrugged his superstition off without a thought.

There were fewer people out on deck this time, but it hadn't taken long for Jessie to spot the young man she'd been staring out before. He seemed to spend a lot of time out in the sea air. She looked around quickly and noted that the first class promenade was empty.

"Hallo!" she yelled towards the second class decks. "I'm Jessie! Are you always such a flirt?"

Henry/April11th/11:35 AM

Henry stood on the second class decks, enjoying the feeling of the salty mist wash over his face. He breathed in the salty air, and just as be was about to relax and crack open his book, he heard a woman yell at him "Are you always such a flirt?" he jerked his head in the direction ofthe voice and saw it was the girl from yesterday, her pale face now certainly staring at his.
"Well...uh, I didn't, I had no idea you were there so...I'm not...you're the one that..."
He stopped, embarassed over his rambling, incohesive sentence. He looked up at her, his face bright red, only to see her laughing softly. This merely increased his frustration with himself and he scurried over to a deck chair and burie his face in his book.

Jessie, 17:00, April 11th 1912

The man had been decidedly unappreciative of her attention, she had concluded, which was why he had responded in such a dull manner. Jessie was disappointed; the fun she could have on a ship full of bookworms was minimal. She had pinned all of her hopes on the Frenchman, then, who would appear at tea; he sat elsewhere for luncheon. If anything, she would enjoy making the bookworm - not to mention George - squirm when the Frenchman left with her on his arm after dinner.

She had already made up her mind to be as flirtatious as she could manage, and had asked the stewardess to ready her favourite dress, uncharacteristically long and fitted. If it was a regal woman she was expected to be, perhaps, for this one night, she would be it. Her hair was already piled on top of her head and she had wiped off some of the powder. Without it, she looked much younger - and more vulnerable.

Meanwhile, she would wander around the ship, and see who she could find. Strictly, she was supposed to keep to the first class decks, but as Mrs Hartland and the daughter of a White Star executive, she had the run of the Titanic as long as she avoided George. She was unlikely to run into him at this time, when he was busy in the gymnasium. Jessie took no pleasure from exercise, and the hour a day George had pledged to spend in the gym essentially left her with an hour of freedom. If he knew me at all, she thought, he would keep me under lock and key. A chance like this is too good to miss.

((Sorry, can't really think of much right now. Anyone can play off this post if they like, and I don't mind what you do with Jessie.))