Young Writers Society

Character Template

Name: Rachell Burgess

Age: 20

Job: Squadron Leader

Description: She can be quite the social butterfly. She loves to be the center of attention and is quite good at making others laugh. When it comes to her job, however, she is very strict. She tries her best to be fair, but whilst working the bossy side of her has a tendancy to take over. She is a feminist.

Height: 5"7

Appearance: She has long light brown hair and hazel eyes. She's far from chubby, but she isn't scronny either. She usually dresses appropriately for occasions and only wears mascara and eyeliner. She doesn't see much need to cover up her flaws.

History: She has always lived in the UK and her father was from the military. He was killed three weeks after Rachell's sixteenth birthday. She and her mother worked hard to coap with their loss and make it okay for her younger brother, Ryan who was eight at the time his father died. Her older brother Dustin has been in prison since she was seventeen for reasons she refuses to specify. She lost contact with her family after being promoted.

Name: John Common

Age: 20

Job: xx Demeter's main pilot.

appearance: mop of brown hair he wears jeans and a space jacket. He has bright blue eyes. Tall with muscle.

Height: 6"4

Descriptions: he's a joker he doesn't really take anything that serious.

History:
*I'll finish this when I get some some good ideas

Name: Amy Stone

Age: 23

Job: Fighter Pilot

Description: Strong-willed and stubborn, very quiet and thoughtful. Very over-protective of any who need it, or don't. Otherwise very laid-back. Likes plants. Very tomboyish and will force herself to do anything. Hangs out more with the guys.

Height: 180

Appearance: Thick and messy dark brown hair down to shoulders that is impossible to tame. Dark green-grey eyes that are very scary, very skinny and hates the fact, although long bones and strong muscles make her heavy.

History: Amy grew up without a mother, who left with Amy's twin sister two months after they were born. The fact has bruised her all through her teenager years and beyond, but she grew up alright with the nurture of her father, who never re-married, and her aunt, who is a defence department journalist and Amy's role model. She meddled with alcohol between her 15th and 16th, but that was before her Aunt arrived and helped.

Name: Kat Walker

Age: 21

Job: Fighter Pilot

Description: Very cocky, carefree, and sarcastic. Fun-loving and a prankster. Has extreme anger issues, make her angry and she'll punch your lights out. A bit of a player, she'll break your heart. Loves to party.

Height: 5'7

Appearance: http://fav.me/d1k89sh

History: Kat grew-up in the military lifestyle. Her father was a fighter pilot, grandfather was a Marine, so on. She grew up without a mom -her mother died giving birth to her. Her father always treated her like a jewel, giving her anything she ever wanted. Her father tried to make her his little princess, by putting her in pageants, but she declined into a angry, feisty tomboy who spent her summers beating up boys. She spent her teenage years partying and living life to the fullest. She graduated high school a year early and became a pilot at 18.

Other: Up for love... duh.

Name: Red Woven

Age: 23

Job: Travelling Performer (Jester)

Description: He's bouncy, witty, and very childish. He seems to take little seriously, and when forced into a situation that can't be handled with humour or entertainment, he drifts off into his own world. He's physically skilled and able, but with the mental capability of a twelve year old.

Height: 138cm (app 4ft 4inches)

Appearance: He's short and skinny, due to being trained in acrobatics from a young age. His outfit is shiny yellow and red, with frills down the trousers and top. His hair is bright red and goes in every direction except brown.

History: He grew up in a circus, training hard every day and performing every night. His job was to entertain, and having grown up in such a way he never learned to be any different. When he was eighteen he ran away from the circus and started to make a living as a travelling performer.
He ends up on the ship by sheer accident when he overhears someone saying "That ship is like a circus, all they need is a fool," refering to the way it was being run. He is allowed on board under the assumption that he is hired entertainment for the sake of comic relief.

Name: Lisa Flores

Age: 21

Job: Student (Majoring in Computer Science)

Description: Lisa was accepted into an internship program aboard the cruiser. She's very goal oriented with a temper like ice and massive ego. She refuses help from anyone who offers it and it determined to do things on her own. She a recluse and doesn't care for people all that much; she'd rather be reading.

Height: 5'5

Appearance: Thick, shoulder length jet black hair, dark chocolate eyes. She's half Latino, half Irish. Curvy build. Wears glasses. More of a bombshell nerd, than a geeky nerd.

History: Lisa grew up in New York City with her four sisters. Her mother raised them by herself in a small one bedroom apartment in West Manhattan. She's been poor all her life and is determined to change that, not just for herself, but for her family also.

Commander Roan Chbosky | The Bridge | 1300 Hours

"Sir, I'm not questioning your authority..."

The captain walked away towards the viewing platform and I sighed, composing myself before following him.

"It's just that it seems rather illogical to abandon our mission for a stray distress ca-..."

Riggs turned to me and gave me his famous half-raised eyebrow and a smirk. "If you disagree that much, Commander, then perhaps you should find a new captain to bother."

I closed my eyes, counting down from three like mother had taught me to do. "Sir..."

"Don't start with me, Roan. Trust me." He put a hand on my back and I cringed just a bit under his hot touch. "I've been piloting for The Armada since I was your age." He gave a hearty chuckle and walked onward to the massive thirty-foot tall, fifty-foot wide window in front of us.

I followed him, still dubious of his command. "Sir, I only bring this up for the sake of the people..."

"How many people?"

"Are you asking approval ratings or passenger totals?"

"Approval ratings."

I reached out a hand, taking the small hologram disk from Isaac, who gave the same you know you can't win frown that I always gave him. It was our secret code, really. Turning back to the captain, I checked the streaming data marquee and cringed. "Eighteen percent."

"Eighteen percent?!" He turned, flustered and red with the fury of a swearing seaman. I readied myself for the onslaught.

But he stopped, and I opened my eyes again to see his back turned to me, his captain's coat swaying in...a breeze?

My eyes shifted down to see the vent he was standing over. Isaac gave another sigh behind me and we both gave him a salute, which he waited to return.

Later, in the galley...

Isaac sucked into his energy drink, keeping his pointer and middle fingers on his temples as he drank. I gave a sigh, staring at the large chunk of space-fruit called Raba'Lak by the tribes we bought them off of ("Four tons of Raba'Lak for the galley! It's delicious and nutritious!" Riggs said...).

I sighed and spun the laser knife in my fingers, slicing through the blue skin of the fruit to reveal the juicy red insides.

I swore I saw something move inside.

"You'd think he'd get the message by now..."

"...but he won't..."

"...because he's the captain..."

Isaac and I finish eachother's sentences. "And we're not."

With a final sigh in unison, we returned to finishing the meal, in which I caught the wandering eyes of several of the passing girls. "Maybe that's what the Captain needs."

"Hmm?" Isaac looked up from his Raba'Lak and followed my eyes to the passing hips and curves of Primary-Class Fighter Pilot, Kat Walker. (The men called her Pussy Walker behind her back) The lack of speech between us gave enough clues to our thoughts.

My gaze finally broke off of her when I looked down to my plate, which had been snatched up by one of the service women. Before I could take another sip of my 900% energy supplement, she was gone.

"Damn those service women..."

But Isaac was still watching Kat, which was usually my job. "You know, if you drool too much, the chefs will harvest it and use it to water the fruit."

Isaac turned his eyes to me and shook his head, dropping his napkin into his fruit. "True. I'd imagine they'd harvest anything on this ship."

"God, I miss the Vitality."

"So I've heard."

"They never served weird fruit."

"So I've heard."

"And the captain..."

"Sexy and female."

"God, I miss the Vitality."

Hayden MacQuinn - The Cooler: 1300 Hours

Light streamed in as the door flew open.

Standing there, almost bored by all appearance was Hayden 'bestfriend' Lance the guard for Isolation, he called Lancey boy, Chuckles. Watching this man all the times he'd been in here, he had noted the man never smiled, he held himself proudly, and held much of the crew in scorn.

Chuckles sighed and annouced usual jargon, "Hayden, you are discharged from isolation and we expect you to actually try."

Smirking, Hayden, sauntered out, "Aye, okay Chuckles."

"Just go."

Taking one last grin at his guard he walked away from the cooler. Life wasn't bad here, being on the Demeter had many benefits, although they al had to be taken to bed to realize that. Carrying on this thought process, he thought of his latest conquest, to get Annabelle Sloan for a little hanky panky.

Isolation was near engineering dept and it wasn't more than once, he got those dirty girls to share their dirty thoughts. Oil and naked flesh was arousing. But, he had a mission.

As he pondered all this, he kept walking, passing the storage area, when he heard a thud.

Raising his eye brows he picked up a nearby mental pole and crept in. Taking in the large room filled with crates and suitcases he let his eyes adjust to darkness. Over on farthest courner, he saw an enchanting vixen crouching, with beautiful blue eyes. Laughing in joy he walked over dropping his weapon, "Hayden my name madame, mind telling me your name and job on here.

Jumping in shock, she looked round. She looked uncomfy, her eyes looking this way and that way. But slowly a grin crept on her face, and then a laugh.

Hayden knew why immeadiatly, and got annoyed, lifting his communicator he began to speak, "This is Hay---" she reacted quickly knocking it out his hands.

Frowning he glanced at her half annoyed, she said nothing and bent down to pick it up.

And what a divine ass she had. Already his mind was wondering if the otherside was just as good.

Speaking once more, he replied, "I heard that stowaways are shot into space..." her face blanched and she appeared visibly shaken, "but we may have a solution here... specially for ya" he carried on winking.

Nothing was said, but he knew her brain was working and fast, finally sighing she muttered, "Fine... stupid dare..."

"Kiss me."

Her face writhed in confusion. Before turning to disgust then, and back to fear.

"Or I call Captain and say we've a stowaway."

Pearls of sweats fell from her, her agiation showing vividly.

Getting up gingerly, she went over, her eyes shifting fearfully, before bending down to kiss him gently. No passion was in it.

Forcing his tongue between her lips, he snogged her as if she was just a whore. His payment, her presence remaining unknown.

Finishing that she went to sit back down, and Hayden perved her body, before leaving, yelling back, "My little back room girl eh..."

She just sighed and whimpered.

Claudia- Hallway- 1300 Hours

The Captain had decided that we would go on some mission that wasn't even authorized. Distress call, my ass. Then again, I didn't really mind, as long as it paid enough to keep me alive. Not that being a bounty hunter hadn't done just that, but...

Kat walked past me, looking slightly pink. I could bet why. But, then again, was it really a surprise how popular she was with the male side of the crew? Or how any of the service women were, for that matter. I shrugged off my thoughts and walked towards where I could guess the captain would be. We'd see about this 'distress call'.

Lucy Lovett:

Lacing up my combat boots I held my clips in between my lips. My skilled fingers finished quickly and then swooped my blue-black hair into a messybun and secured it with the black clip.

Opening the door I peered out. No one. Funny how everyone was somewhere else when I was there. It didn't matter though. As I closed the heavy metal door someone smacked into me, sending me flying to the ground. My hair spilled form the clip and onto my shoulder. Pulling down my black tank-top I said "Hey, watch where you're going! I didn't come here to me smacked around."

*This can be anyone.*

Since we're just starting, I think it'd be a good time to review the rule Paladin posted regarding post length. 500 words, minimum. If you read the box in the bottom of your posting box, it measures characters, not words. So, if you have a post with nothing but 4-letter words, you need to have 2000 characters, minimum. Please, for the sake of this storybook's quality, keep this rule in mind.

Isaac Vanderbilt - The Bar, 1.18PM

The colorless drink swished gently in the wine glass Isaac held. He lifted it to the light, scanning the liquid for any unwanted particles drifting about.

Time and time again, alcohol proved itself the only escape from Captain Riggs's reckless impudence.

"General announcement: Hayden McQuinn is out of isolation."

Wonderful addition to his list of bad things that happened to day. He ought to thank the AI later.

Isaac drew out his notepad and, for the second time today, wrote down all the possible outcomes of the captain's folly. The first edition of the list had been snatched away by Roan. Isaac thought up a few possibilities of what Roan might want with such a list, but dismissed them all. What Roan planned to do with it was no business of Isaac's.

From the corner of his eye Isaac spotted Lizzie making her way around the bar, a smile on her eternally overjoyed face. He quickly gathered his things and rearranged them so that his little notepad was at the very bottom of a daunting pile.

He didn't want anyone, least of all Lizzie, asking anything of him. Why couldn't she be more like Annabelle? Annabelle never asked anything of anyone.

Just then Roan slipped into the seat beside him with a frown so deep Isaac wondered if he'd missed a funeral.

"I gave your list to the captain."

Isaac paled. Roan did what? Allowing the captain access to a list of outcomes - which by the way included one victorious ending to this foolish mission - in Isaac's handwriting almost ensured Isaac of being thrown out into space alone with no companions whatsoever. And, even if it didn't go that far, then at the very least Roan had given Isaac the dubious gift of the captain's ire. Captain Riggs really didn't take well to Isaac's "psychic predictions", as the captain called them.

They weren't so much psychic as common sense, though. But Isaac had given up that battle long ago.

"You're doing it again." Roan gestured at Lizzie to bring him a drink as well. As he did so his engagement ring glittered in the bar's dim lights, catching the attention of several people. "Stop it, Isaac. It's not good for you."

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "What?" Isaac wasn't aware of having done anything wrong...recently, anyway. Lizzie might have taken offense to Isaac's rearranging his things, but apart from that Isaac couldn't think of anything he'd done.

"You worry too much. Honestly. I mean I agree, this mission isn't going well but at this rate you'll burn out within the week."

Isaac managed a sheepish grin. "Sorry." Isaac noticed a small reddish stain on the cuff of his sleeve and took out a stain remover from his pocket. Within a few seconds, the stain disappeared, leaving no trace of itself.

"Hey boys. What's with the faces?"

Rachell startled Isaac so much he almost jumped. Almost. Roan remained unfazed by Rachell's sudden entrance to the conversation. She sat between Isaac and Roan on the circular table, glancing from one superior to the other.

"So. Want to tell me what's up?"

Isaac and Roan exchanged glances. Not everyone on the ship knew? But they'd gotten approval ratings. Most people knew, and whenever most people knew, Rachell knew as well. Why hadn't word gotten around?

Maybe everyone expected Roan to talk the captain out of it. Maybe they didn't realize Captain Riggs wasn't about to listen to anybody.

"Rachell," Isaac began slowly, "you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" She continued to give Roan and Isaac expectant glances. "Did I miss something?"

Yes. Something quite big, actually.

"Rachell, the captain..."

"-just answered a stray distress call -"

"-without notifying the rest of the armada, or gaining permission for that matter," Roan finished.

Isaac took another sip of wine as the full force of the situation struck him again. They could get lost, or attacked, or run out of food, or lose the captain or -

"Isaac," Roan warned.

At this rate he was going to need two bottles of wine and a visit to Elle's office for counselling again.

Roan was right. He was going to burn out by the end of the week at this rate.

Ashton-His Room-1000

I sat back on my bed, resting my head against the wall, and sighed. It felt good to be alone for once. It drove me nuts being surrounded by all the people aboard the ship. I was about to shut my eyes, and drift off to sleep when my wrist computer went off, signaling new information on the ship.

"What is it?" I asked the computer's AI.

"Sir," said the AI, speaking in a soft feminine voice, "the ship has changed coarse."

"What do you mean changing coarse," I said sitting up.

A holographic star map suddenly filled my room. A single bright dot was nestled among the stars, representing our ship. A dotted line appeared from the ship and traveled to a distant known galaxy known as Andromeda. "The galaxy known as Paradox was our original destination, but as of 1000 hours, our direction has been shifted." A solid line appeared from the ship and sailed light years away to a far off, unexplored region of space. "From calculations, the ship is projected to arrive in a area of space unexplored by man, also known as the Dead region."

I pressed a button on my computer and turned off the hologram. I exited my room and walked down the hallway, passing people, not stopping to talk to any of them. "Do you know why we have changed coarse?" I asked the AI.

"I have not been able to find anything."

Ashton-Galley-1400

"Dammit," I mumbled to myself as I sat at the bar. I ran around the entire ship for hours looking for Captain Riggs to demand an explanation, but came up empty. It also seemed that British military were stubborn assholes like America's, never wanting to give up any information. I rested my head against the table and sighed. It was pointless to expect help from the military.

"What can I get for you?" asked a female voice.

"Whatever is your strongest." I said without looking up.

I sat up as she poured vodka into a small shot glass. I poured the burning alcohol down my throat and set the glass back on the table. "Another." She poured me another glass full which I downed quicker than the first. "You wouldn't happen to know where the Captain is?" I asked the barmaid.

"Sorry, sir, but I don't," she replied.

"Dammit!" I said hitting my head against the table.

Elle~ Her Office~1:18

I sat at my desk organizing its contents as I waited for my next appointment. I lined all my pens in a neat row based off of color then aligned my stapler with my pencil sharpener checking several times that they were even. I looked up at my clock to see that my appointment was exactly seven seconds late. I sighed. I couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t leave his room much.

Not since he got word several weeks ago that his wife and died. I had counseled him ever since. He usually just sat on my couch and cried and I would hand him tissues and try my best to console him. It didn’t help that we were breaking protocol and following some random distress call.

On our regular root I probably could have gotten him back to be at the funeral. He would miss the funeral and that only increased his depression. I had a pretty good idea where he was. On the rare occasion he did leave his room he would go to the bar, to drink his sorrow away. I had told him not to do this but apparently he didn’t care and went anyway. This meant I would have to talk directly to the Bar staff and make sure they didn’t serve him any alcohol.

I picked up one of my binders and made sure my hair was in a ponytail before leaving the room. The lights went out automatically upon my exit but I had to enter and exit a few times to makes sure. Technology could go faulty after all and I had to be sure. I headed down the hall to the bar. I would have someone escort Mr. Bentley to his room and I would have a word with the Bar staff, the owner if I had to.

I arrived at the Bar and indeed Mr. Bentley sat slumped in his stool. I motioned for one of the male staff to take him to his room.

“Mr. Bentley we’ll talk about this later,” I scolded. I doubt he heard me in his stupor.

I noted Isaac, another one of my regulars was there.
I nodded to him and smiled then set my sights on Annabelle Sloane. She seemed a little off put by approach.

“That man that was just escorted out is a danger to himself. Under no circumstances are you to give him any alcohol. Is that clear,” I said. I tried to sound as nice as possible but my irritation bubbled to the surface a bit. “Tell your boss and the rest of your staff. I don’t want to have to come down here again and pick my patience off the floor.” I liked coming to the bar myself to relieve myself after a long day and I didn’t want any part of my job associated with the bar. I nodded as if confirming my statement and walked over to where Isaac was.

“So how are you today,” I asked.

Roan Chbosky | The Galley | 1:20pm

I sighed, setting the empty mug of ale on the counter just in time for Shaun to pick it up. He made sure to brush his hand against mine as he took it, but smiled anyway. "What's wrong with all of you?"

Man, was it getting tedious just to spread the news. "Nothing, Paladin. Just Riggs off on another tangent."

The bar's owner sat down across from me on the other side of the counter and let his eyes meander around the galley. He kept his hands busy washing around the mug's rim. "Riggs wouldn't be Riggs if he didn't do crazy things... We all know that."

I didn't like it, but I had to agree with him. "True... Though this time seems so much different."

"Howso?"

I shook my head, finally losing the taste of the bitter ale on my tongue. "We're headed to the Dead Zone, Paladin."

Instantly around me, glasses hit the floor and shattered. There were so many gasps that I could feel the air pressure drop.

"That's right folks," Isaac spoke up, the same melancholy droning in his voice as mine. "Captain Riggs, as we polled you about earlier, is taking us into the Dead Zone."

Great, Vanderbilt. Get us an audience.

The murmurs and whispers started wafting around like a ghost and I stood, holding up my hands against the mob. "Now, listen... The Demeter Family has been in tough spots before, eh?"

The mob advanced towards the crew at the bar.

Oh shit.

"Listen, people," Isaac began, taking care to cover his notebook of anxieties. "We'll get through this. We'll survive."

"We're going into suicide territory!"

"What if we're attacked by an alien race?!"

"We could all be in danger!"

"Think of the children!"

I sighed, standing up on the bar stool to tower over everyone else. I could already feel Shaun's eyes on my butt, but that'd have to wait. "Ladies... Gentlemen!"

Slowly, the mob began to quieten down. "Second Commander Vanderbilt and I are going to address the Captain in mere moments--..."

Bzzzzzt... Paging Commander Chbosky to the Bridge; Commander Chbosky and Vanderbilt, please report to the bridge immediately.

The mob roared with panic, but it was our ticket out. Seeing the first gap in angry faces, I grabbed Isaac by the wrist and drug him along, holding up my left arm to fend off the grabbing hands as we passed.

__ __ __ __ __
The Bridge
__ __ __ __ __

"I'll respect all of you more if you'd just leave." Riggs tossed a pack of folders at several of the crew members and they all began to file out of the bridge. I looked up ahead across the sea of crewmen and saw Riggs standing at the helm of the viewing platform.

Dusting off my shoulders and arms from whatever grubby grime had gotten on me, I advanced towards Riggs with as much dignity and as hard as it was to pretend, respect. Riggs turned and saw my salute, returning it slowly. "Boys, I've called you both here for a very important meetin'."

He coughed into the sleeve of his jacket and cleared his throat. "It would seem that my approval ratings among the masses..." He glared down to Isaac. "...and the crew... Have dropped substantially."

He turned back towards the gargantuan window and clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head. "I'm thinking that, perhaps boys, I've made an error."

I glanced at Isaac, who was as wide-eyed as I was, but with much more worry.

Riggs took a step forward, touching a hand to the glass panel separating him from the starry abyss beyond. "So my purpose in having you both here is..."

Boom...Thwack!

Somewhere below, there was a jostle and a bump.

Isaac did a quick two-step to regain his balance and I placed a firm hand on one of the computer desks.

Riggs stepped back, taken avast by the sudden disturbance. And then, it came again.

Boom...Thwack! ...BBBBOOOM!

The bridge shook suddenly, and the grinding continued until it was overcome by the thunderous sound of shattering glass. I grabbed a firm hold of the mainframe and Isaac dove in behind me just as the viewing platform burst into a million shards of deadly glass. Echoing beyond our ears shouted Riggs' agonized cries. I closed my eyes and pulled Isaac in to safety as the vacuum of space began to stir up a maelstrom of flying glass in the bridge.

The air jets that regulated the ship's air pressure began malfunctioning, shooting wildly-concentrated blasts of air. The alarms began to resound and Isaac and I grabbed our goggles from our utility belts, shielding our eyes from the glass storm. As the air was pouring out of the bridge, we had little time to react, but the two of us had to escape, even without our captain.

I turned, looking over my shoulder as Isaac began to tie computer wires around his waist. It figured that they'd be the most durable things around. I leaned down, grabbing the other chords and began to tie them around me, but slipped half-way and flew up. I began to scream into the void, but Isaac's hand reached out, grabbing onto mine at the last possible moment, suspending us both above the Bridge's main platform. The roar of fleeting air blocked out all the sound we could've ever made, but the repair crew, they had to be on the job.

I was slightly worried that Isaac would lose strength before we were stabilized, but I had to have faith in him. I had no other choice.

The red alarm sounded in a faraway corridor, but all remained silent on the bridge, even between the constant screams of two surviving commanders.

As my fingers began to slip, I pulled back on Isaac, reeling myself in. He reached out with his other arm, pulling me into a hug for what was literally my survival. But it felt odd, feeling that someone cared enough to save my life.

Just as that thought completed its cycle, the defense shields deployed around the bridge, shutting off the abyss and sending Isaac and I into a mass of computers below.

Suddenly, everything was eerily silent.

"Isaac?"

"...yeah?"

"Are we dead?"

"I... I don't think so..."

I slowly opened my eyes, catching my first glimpse of Isaac's face, squashed beneath my own. I pushed myself up and looked around at the ruined control center, shivering in the sub-zero air around us. The door to the bridge opened with a swoosh and several of the crew members ran in, half scared and half awestruck by us awkwardly on one another.

"Chbosky?"

"Vanderbilt?"

"Where's Riggs?!"

Warily, I rose to my feet, staggering about around Isaac, who did the same.

"Chbosky!"

I looked up, falling back against Isaac. "Y-Yeah?"

"Where's Riggs?!"

It was then that it finally occurred to me, beyond all the chaos and calamity... That Captain Riggs was gone without a trace.

In the Dead Zone.

A knot swelled up in my throat as eyes grew wide across the bridge.

"Riggs... He's..."

The smiles that followed the wide eyes were worse-- so much worse.

Because they knew, and they understood, and they liked the idea, and they embraced the fact that... Riggs had died.

And no matter how cynical it seemed, I had to smile as well. Because I had won. Because I had survived. But then the dream came crashing into reality when someone shouted out.

"Captain Chbosky... What do we do now?"