Young Writers Society

Name: Will Williams
Gender: MALE.
Appearence: Will is a slight boy. Svelte, even. Lean, though slightly muscular from playing on a soccer team, though not by choice. He's got gorgeous blonde hair that he's always kept buzzed but has decided to grow out once out of the view of his overwatchful father. Blue eyes, of course, in a icy, intense shade. Freckles are sprinkled abundantly across the bridge of his nose. Tall at around 5"8 and a half, with large, capable hands from years in the woodshop. As for face, he has high brows and a long, sharp nose, relatively big for the size of his face. Though every other feature is average and actually attractive, his nose is the one thing about his appearence that bothers the heck out of him.

Power: To communicate with inanimate objects. They whisper things to him. It's actually pretty creepy.

Diagnosis: Psychosis.

History:His father is a burly, single-parent with good intentions for his only son, but whom he throws on so much pressure and expectaions on him that Will feels like he can only disappoint. Will had been going to a private school before he transfered to the Lyle House after having a breakdown and threating a student with a knife. Things'd happened before but not at such a freakish degree.

Up For Love: Yooooou betcha!

Others: Eh. Nope.

Name: Lilah Malsberg
Age: 14 1/2 (13-17)
Gender:female
Appearance: short brown curly hair, with one blonde streak in it. she had a pigment disorder that keeps her eyes from having color, so she always wears sunglasses to protect her optic nerves. olive skin
Power: whatever she sculpts out of clay from a certain river bed will come to life. it works similarly to a golemn and you have to write the word life on its head before it lives.
Diagnosis: schizophrainia, bipolar disorder (Matches your power. It's like a sickness that can some what explain your ability eg. Fire: Pyromania)
History: Lilah grew up as an only child, with two art professors for parents. she learned alot about art in early child hood and is able to apply this knowledge when she sculpts. however, when playing with a boy that lived in her neighborhood, she accidently brought a statue to life, breaking the little boy's leg. she was brought to a child counseler, because her parents beleived she had broken the boys leg and didn't want to admit to it. as time went on, the episodes of living clay got more and more severe until someone was carried off and never seen again. lilah was then transfered by a social worker to the lyle house
Up For Love: yes
Other: still feels guilty for causing the dissapearence of the person in the last clay escapade

Should we start soon?

MilkNCookies wrote:Should we start soon?

((Sounds good to me. ))

Gabriel (I'm going to start... if that's ok with everyone. Also, the house isn't as bad as he describes it- he's pessimistic, remember.)

I somehow brought myself to wale up the wooden steps towards the large building. At the frist knock, the door swung open for me.

"Name?" A woman, about 30, asked me. I spat at her feet.

"Gabriel Wolfe." I mumbled. She gave me a death glare.

"Go sit inside." She demanded. I grabbed my big, red duffel bag with clothes. I was the first one in the 'waiting room'. it was basically five benches around the perimeter of the room. I plopped the bag in the corned. I saw no one near me. I wasn't staying in this room. I began to walk out the side door, before I hear d.

"Where are you going?' Someone asked.

Anyone? I guess, if you'd like, I'd take the reins for this storybook. (ooooh, the plot ideas in my head right now!)

No it's okay Milk, I'll man it still. I'm returning to YWS in a day or so because I do love it but I'm really busy as of late. Nonetheless, don't let me stop you all posting, I'll have my profile up soon, until then enjoy.

=) thanks!

Paxton

I raised an eyebrow at the guy. "Going somewhere in a hurry, eh? Well, I'd suggest being careful. Stepping on toes, metaphorically or not, is seen as rude here." I smiled, maybe not exactly in a happy way, and made to move around him to get to the front door.

((Meh. My muse is being devious--and not even in an interesting way.))

Misty

I walked into this big building alone, my parents had to work that was'nt a shocker.I walked up the steps a lady in her 30s opened the door,I could already tell I wasn't going to like her.

"Name" she asked with this nasty expression "Misty Harmon" I said after I told her my name she swiftly moved her finger down what I guessed was a list,I guess she found my name because she stopped half way down the paper looked up a pulled me inside.

I let out a sigh after I took a seat in a corner where I could see the whole room,I saw two boys talking one had black hair and the other boys blonde they only talked for a sec or two, before they walked apart, I wonder if I should follow them.

Will

I was more nervous than expected. Much, much more nervous. It was like the first day of school all over again, except this school is an asylum and the students are freaks. Like me.
Being as quiet and (hopely) unoticable as I could, I creeped into the waiting room. Two students stood in conversation. I slipped behind their socializing forms and into a seat. The waiting room looked like a combonation of an elevator and a doctors office, stiff and modern while retaining a state of sophisticated and classic.
I twidled my thumbs and sang in my head, dreading the thought of my future - classmates? Roomates? Inmates? turning their eyes on me.

Eragon

Sigh, newcomers. They all know why they've been sent here. Because there freaks, we are freaks. We scare normal society, we are monster, outcasts. I can't remember a thing before The Lyle House. They say I have amnesia and they are trying to get me to remember my past. My other diagnosis is tetraphobia, fear of monsters, apparently. They lie to us, I'm sure of it. Somehow they keep us under wraps, from figuring out why we are freaks, from embracing out potential.