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Young Writers Society


The military experience



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Wed Aug 01, 2012 2:13 pm
roostangarar says...



The government is worried about the state of our younger generation and the lack of volunteers for the armed forces, so to encourage their penchant for physical activity and actually using their brains, they have set up a challenge. During the summer holidays, one school is to be picked for a giant war game. The entire pupil body shall participate, as the whole school has to volunteer.
The students shall be split in half equally, with each side battling to control the school through that most contestable of means: paintball.
Each side shall have a Leader, who can call themselves whatever they want and decide how their army is run. They can pick their officers, tactics, everything.
The school is divided into 6 year groups. 1st Year are the youngest, 6th Year are the oldest. You are either 5th or 6th year, so 16-18 years old. And your school has been chosen...
I hae but ane gallant son, and if he were to follow me in my footsteps, how proud I shall be.

Time isn't a straight line. It's a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff





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Reviews: 49
Fri Aug 03, 2012 10:43 pm
roostangarar says...



Andrew Mackenzie trooped into the common room, plonking himself down in the last available chair whilst ignoring the disapproving looks he recieved from his classmates. So he was a few minutes late. Big whoop.
“Good, now that we’re all finally here, we can announce the announcement.” Mr. Strong managed to somehow look upbeat whilst simultaneosly shooting daggers at Andrew. The Headmaster was a small, orange haired fellow who could throw some mean daggers.
“Hey! Mac!" hissed Andrew’s friend William Gully, his voice easily covered by the excited chatter of fifty sixth years. “Did he say, ‘announce the announcement’? Mr. Strong’s rhetoric is clunky today.”
Andrew opened his mouth to deliver a witty retort, but was cut off.
“Students, students, quiet please. I’d like to announce-” William tutted softly “-that the result of the Military Simulation Program for Young Adults came through this morning. It was a very close run thing, with only four schools throughout the whole of the UK making the cut. Our school was one of those. In this envelope is the school that was selected to host the simulation over the summer break.” The room filled with an expectant hush. Mr. Strong painstakingly slit the envelope open. He scanned its contents, his expression neutral. Finally, he looked up to meet the anxious gaze of his most senior year group.
“It’s us.”
I hae but ane gallant son, and if he were to follow me in my footsteps, how proud I shall be.

Time isn't a straight line. It's a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff





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Mon Aug 06, 2012 1:47 pm
Lothbrok says...



There were too many differing reactions to take full account of. William Gully heard small cheers and many mutterings of the word "yes" from the military nuts, boos and complaints from the few pacifists. The majority gave small complaints but ultimately acceptance - you can't exactly argue with the kind of government that trains students to shoot each other.
"Sir." Calum Common, a short arse with the face and build of a bulldog raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Common." Mr. Strong quietened the room and pointing at the rugby player.
"Does this mean I can't go on my summer holiday?"
"Yes it does, Common. The average Program lasts two weeks, though last year - due to the cautious tactics of the leaders - it lasted one and a half months after one side retreated into a local forest and conducted a guerilla campaign. So Mr. Common I'd clear out my calendar if I was you." Mr. Strong in trademark style seemed to lack the need for air.
"Fuck." Calum said involuntarily.
"Language!" Mr. Strong roared.
"Sorry, sir." Calum was suitably abashed.
"Now." Mr. Strong clasped his hands. "As our school is hosting, the leaders shall be chosen from and by the sixth years." Almost everyone in the room smiled at that. It was an accepted fact that every vote taken by the students would be discarded and the results decided by Mr. Strong and his management team. "So boys and girls, get voting."
If at first you don't succeed then destroy any evidence that you ever tried





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Gender: Male
Points: 1532
Reviews: 49
Thu Aug 23, 2012 4:58 pm
roostangarar says...



The queue for the voting box was moving slowly, giving the pupils time to discuss their choices.
"Well, I voted for myself", Andrew boasted loudly.
"I voted for you too Andrew. I think you'd make a great leader", beamed Philip Sharper, his blatant toadying apparent to everyone within earshot.
"Yeah", Andrew said as he inspected his nails. "I am great, aren't I."
William leaned over to where Andrew was standing. "It's going to be funny when the two of us are pitted against each other in an epic battle of wills, the likes of which the world has never witnessed before."
"Yeah!" Andrew laughed, "Like when Napoleon and Wellington met at Waterloo. Only better."
Finally all the votes were collected and the teachers began to count them up. The tension filling the room was unbelievable.
I hae but ane gallant son, and if he were to follow me in my footsteps, how proud I shall be.

Time isn't a straight line. It's a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff








As a former (and rather excellent) liar herself, Aru knew that, sometimes, speaking the truth felt like wrenching a thorn out of your side. But doing the opposite meant pretending it wasn't there. And that made every single step ache. It was no way to live.
— Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality