Young Writers Society

Name: Lilia Hovley
Age: (above 16 please) 23
Gender:Female
Appearance: (Picture and written)She has black hair with a purple strip in it. She's tan and has deep brown eyes.
Personality:Bubbly and cheery, is the life of party. She loves laughing, but has gotten a little more serious in her adulthood. She's rash and ALWAYS acts on her feelings, no matter what. Nobody ever thinks she has more than two emotions, happy and rash, but she has had a harsh past and is trying to make up for it.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes: The ocean on sunny days, solid things, laughing,parties.
Dislikes: Messy things, parties, cheaters, liers
Flaws: Always acting on her feelings, and easily trusts.
History: She's at a community college now, but she had the opportunity to go to Harvard. Some kids at the party she was at were caught with things they shouldn't have had and she was blamed. Other: (eg, any preference of which God to be paired with?)Goddess of water. Hears she's fun and loves water!

Luke Gautier really wants Kyle to be the guy he bestows his powers unto!!!

Well, that's just fine, but first we must see if Kyle has been accepted. If so, by all means, go for it!

@TheWalkinDude: Once again, your profile is amazing <3


Name: Ariane Garnier
Age: (above 16 please) 21
Gender: Female
Appearance: (Picture and written) Ariane is hardly a well-groomed character. She often has the appearance of someone who hasn't slept for a day or two; this is largely true.


Personality: Ariane is creative, practical and pensive. She forms relationships as easily as she forgets them, and frequently drops her ties in order to move on. She follows her instincts at all times - pursuing that which interests her, and dismissing that which does not. She is a woman of few words, and generally appears guarded around others.

Likes: Travel, thunder storms, food, hustle and bustle, easily impressed by pretty things, tigers, sunsets/sunrises.
Dislikes: Heeled shoes, having long hair, clocks/watches, people who talk excessively.

Flaws: She can't read others well and is pretty closed to others in her thoughts and actions. She's not street-smart at all, sometimes falling into difficult situations simply because she thought it might be fun to wander down that unfamiliar alleyway.

History: Although Ariane's parents both led fairly normal lives, they were more than happy to let their daughter do much as she likes. She was home-educated until she turned 18, seeking knowledge at her own pace and leisure. After this she travelled the world for a while, eager to discover more than what was offered by her hometown. Now she's back in America, in her home town of Kesherville, on the search for some kind of job.

Other: I would quite like for her to maybe be paired with John?


On another note: Please can the characters move into the same place pretty soon? At the moment they are kind of spread around the globe, and there's a danger that this will make all the interactions only between god+intended new-god/paired mortal... all of the characters should interact ^^

WE CAN NOW START!!

Luke Gautier ~ Paris, France and headed to Manhattan.

Luke wandered around a silent Paris. The wind stopped dead in it's tracks, a car frozen in motion and wine in the process of being poured. The world was as quiet as if time had stopped... which it most certainly had. The only movement was a smartly dressed gentleman who strode down the streets as if he owned them. Every once in awhile, he'd change small things, like paint a balloon in someone's painting, or steal someone's lunch just for fun. Luke was, very bored.

A piano tune broke through the silence and Luke stopped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek blackberry.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Luke, we need to talk. Come to New York as soon as you can." A stern voice demanded.

"What do I owe this pleasure to?" He asked, drawing out the conversation.

"Cut the crap. You know I'd never call you unless it was an emergency. I know you froze time, so you should be in New York in seconds." An increasingly annoyed voice replied.

"Ah, well, I'll come once I've had lunch." Luke smiled to himself.

"I've already called the other Gods. If you go by the Atlantic Ocean, you should meet Ellie on the way. DON'T BE LATE OR GODS HELP ME I'LL..."

Luke cut the voice off. "I'm sure they will. Now you're wasting time and I haven't eaten yet. It's not polite to talk loudly on the phone in a café." Luke disconnected the call and sighed. He snapped his fingers and the world continued on it's scheduled path, without one notice that anything had happened.

Late on time now. Will post for Liliah later.

~Cecilia~

The forest is perfectly green and untouched, just the way I like it. Away from all the trivials of life and away from those idiot humans. I lay down and look at the sky. Bored was good, for a godess. I loved Alaska. Nothing to do and perfect. The leaves shook. Aw, crap.
"What do you want?" I yell out.
Go to the beach, Manhatten. Meet your relatives.
" Why?" I ask the trees.
Go. The trees echo through the cannon.
" What if I don't want to?" I ask the trees.
Hey. Not our fault. Blame the cooky guy.I sit up, alarmed.
"What do you mean?"
The trees are silent, message relayed. I sigh and get up, dusting off my blue jeans. Gods I hoped Cleo wwasn't gonna be there. Ellie maybe. Even she could get on my nerves, though. There was no fighting it. I was going to Manhatten.


Later...
Boarding the plane I sigh. I hated being off the ground. Made me sick. Spying around I see only one seat. I sit down in it and shivers go up my spine. It wasn't being so far from Earth, though. The person next to me. They were faguly familiar.

Can be anyone!

-Hobo Jack-

Kesherville, Kansas, was indeed all Hobo Jack expected it to be: void of all good conversation. Everyone always seemed to be busy with something, either tap-tap-tapping away at their fancy gizmos and gadgets or yapping and complaining about little things in life that don't matter. Time now was a confusing matter and it seemed Hobo Jack would never fully accept it all.

Jack laid on the side of the rode in a grassy ditch by a field. Kesherfield was ten miles up north on the rode, and the Kansas/Oklahoma border line was only fifteen miles south on the rode. Jack had decided to leave Kansas and see how the old Sooner state was fairing. The first time Jack was in Oklahoma, the land run was running at full bloom, and the last time he visited, the Myrtle building had been bombed. He wondered what it would hold for him this visit. He remembered hearing about the first female governor being elected in not too long ago. Maybe a visit to the capital wouldn't be out of order, he thought to himself as he stroked his beard in the beaming sun.

In the midst of his pondering, a silver hatchback started heading up the rode in the direction was heading. Jack instinctively pointed his thumb to the sky and watched as the hatchback grew, getting ever closer. He was sure the car wouldn't stop; nobody ever picks up hitch hikers anymore, not since all the highway muggings and murders. No one was to be trusted. But still, being the old man he was, despite Godly powers and young strength, he hated walking.

Surprisingly enough, the car slowed and pulled over to the side next to Jack. An older looking man was driving; his full white beard, bald head, paunched belly and black suspenders made one guess he was at least sixty. The driver of the hatchback stepped out of the truck and walked over to Jack. Confusion first hit Jack, then realization and joy practically dumbstruck him.

"Horace! Horace Marshal! My, my, I wou'n't believe I e'er see yer sorry ole mug e'er agin!" Jack gave the other old man a broad hug in which their twin white beards seemed to nearly entangle themselves. The old man gave a cheery grin that made his cheeks and nose go red, making him unmistakably Saint Nick-like.

"Ahh, Jack, yew ole fart! Good t'see ya! You wouldn't 'appen t'know this rode, do ya?" They both immediately burst into raucous laughter at the inside joke.

For nearly twenty minutes they caught up and shared old man's jokes heartily. Eventually, their conversation arose to the subject of what Horace was doing in Kansas. Horace's eyes seemed to shadow over and his hands retreated to the barracks that were his jeans pockets.

"As yew know," he started,"I'm still in touch with... well, the Big Man. Ya know what I mean. He a'ways seems t'find me when yew are needed." Jack nodded thoughtfully to himself as he heard this, as if he guessed already what was amiss. "All d'others'r gettin' the messeg. Yew just gotta make yer appearence jus like ever'one else." Horace coughed--more hacked, really--and spat onto the rode. Jack picked up his rucksack and smiled at Horace like old friends often do at times of parting.

"Ahh, then it would seem that I am needed at that special place once again.... Though I doubt this will be for some incident like last time." He chuckled in nostalgia and sighed, the true weariness finally showing it's face in his eyes after so many years. "I'm gonna be honest with ya, friend: this may very well be our last get together, our last round-up, sort to speak. Just in case we don't see each other ever again," Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a river stone, flat and smooth, great for skipping, "I want you to watch over this for me. Can ya do that? Can ya, for an old friend?"

Horace could never look up into Jack's eyes fully all the while he spoke. Finally, he nodded and accepted the black river rock and looked up at Jack, for what would definitely be the last time as the old hobo guessed, and gave him one more embracing hug.

No more words were exchanged after that. Horace stepped back into his silver hatchback, backed out of the ditch, and drove on the way he was going. Jack decided that, although he hated walking, maybe just for a few more miles wouldn't hurt; he could spend this time to enjoy all the beauty of the great array of seasons hat the States holds within its boundaries....

A few winks later and Jack was back in New York, the Big Apple, Manhattan, the Big Time. Jack remembered back when it was first developing: small, mostly marsh, did mostly industry like most of the New England colonies. Smiling giddily, he walked down the streets, laughing a laugh that an old man who has bested a young whipper-snapper might bellow and he even jumped up and clacked his heels together once, for effect.

Yes, indeed, the Big Time, he thought. And perhaps my Last Time...

"Cleo... You have to come to New York. It's Ma'ma..." Mom said on the other side. I quickly got the fastest flight out to NY,NY.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

I sat in the plane, my eyes darting around my surroundings. The person next to me seemed, in the oddest way, familiar, but the some breath I was sure I've never seen her in my life.

"Hello. Do I... know you?" I asked her.

I sat there shuffling the tarot cards between aged fingers. I sighed slowly. A knock was against the door.
"The door is open," I said clearing what felt like dust from my throat. Silence. I got up and walked over to the door pushing it open just to reveal the quaint french countryside. shadows I thought then laughed at the irony. I turned back to my room to my room to see the map of North America spread out on the table with a pen in Manhattan. with the tarot of destiny next to it. I smiled. It was time to resolve my differences and help my past heal itself . . . finally.

K.J:

It wasn't unusual that I was sitting alone, on a book store's front steps. However, I wasn't really sure why I was here, other than I felt anxiety and had to leave my apartment. Yeah...
I still felt anxious, though, and I just kept looking around.

I took off my baseball hat and just ran my fingers through my hair, only to have a businessman walk by seconds later and put two quarters and a dime in my hat.

I almost said something, but he was gone with the hustle and bustle of the city before I could.

Oh, well. Sixty cents was more than halfway to a fast-food burger, wasn't it?

((Unsure where I am going with this, but feel free to accidentally run into him or something. Eh.))

-Kyle-

"God help us, a corporate book store," Kyle muttered under his breath as he looked at the bookstore across the street. It was a big chain-store, like Borders or Mardels, and it seemed to be placed inside an older building with great stone steps. Plenty of people were moving in and out, signifying that either a sale was underway or a popular new book has been released. Kyle hoped that if it was the latter that the book didn't tank like Twilight.

Stepping quickly, Kyle crossed the street, heading straight for the bookshop. He was sent by his library for a specific book that was only sold here. The publisher seemed to be the author and only sold it to this store. His library was interested in it only because it was a book of the supernatural, and of the genre the library seems to be lacking. Plus, the head librarian was a creepy freak who loved his ghouls and goblins.

There was a boy on the front steps who looked not much older than Kyle himself. The main different between the two was that Kyle looked more official, wearing black slacks, white button-up shirt, black tie and a black, fitted blazer, while the boy on the steps looked more rugged, as if he sometimes enjoyed sleeping under a low bridge. Kyle felt generous for some odd reason, and the urge to toss some loose change hit him as if like a baseball thrown by an all-star pitcher. A twenty dollar bill, neatly and curtly folded only just that morning, left his pocket and went into the boy's hand.

"Here you go, sir." Kyle kept walking silently in his mysterious way that made him oblivious to anyone and everyone who wasn't paying attention. Inside Kyle felt that he should not have done that. But, hey, doesn't matter anymore. The deed has been done.

Ellie
(are we supposed to be in 1st person or 3rd person? or doesn't it matter? just wondering)

The waves always calmed Ellie. Whenever she got upset, the waves helped her to regain her composure. Some idiot had just finished dumping some type of--something into the ocean, and boy was Ellie upset about it. At that moment, however, she was engulfed in the waves, rocking gently back and forth as the tide came and left.

"Ellie you gotta come with me to Manhatten."

Ellie jumped. Turning around, she saw Luke. "Gosh Luke, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, but we kinda need to get to Manhatten."

"Why?"

"Just because. Now let's get moving."

Ellie nodded and followed Luke toward Manhatten. "Are the others going to be there too?"

"I think so," Luke responded, "I won't know until we get there."

Whatever was going on, it had to be something major. Why else would you want to get all the gods together in one place? Usually that's not a safe thing to do.

K.J.:

I grumble to myself in annoyance, not really wanting to get up, but pick up the twenty before I follow the guy into the bookstore, having some trouble keeping up 'cause I had to limp along. Bugger leg.
"Hey, dude, I don't need money..." I say, coming up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder, and then holding out the money.
Twenty bucks was too much. And I didn't like some snot-nosed kid thinking he was better than me.

-Kyle-

Kyle loved books.

The only thing in the world Kyle could not live without was something to read. Even pamphlets would suffice. But what he liked more than books were old books. Books with history. A book you buy at the store was new, and more often than not, clean and boring. Old books seemed to have a feeling of age, a scent of use, making one wonder exactly what type of person had read the book before oneself. Kyle loved this. Kyle also hated new books.

The book store wasn't as crowded as Kyle first thought. In fact, it didn't even seem to busy that day. Kyle shrugged and figured it was just his mistake, maybe something was going on and now it was over.

Silent as his nickname suggested, Kyle glided over to the front desk--well, not glided exactly, but walked as if he were gliding. The teller was a pretty, young blonde with blue eyes, and the first thing that Kyle thought was "Hail Hitler." Shaking the benign thought, Kyle extended his query to her.

"Yes, hello, I'm here for a Mr. Barkly. He's the head librarian of the Bangor Library in Maine," Kyle said, receiving a seeming startled and confused look from the young woman. Continuing, Kyle said, "We called early in the week, and you promised to set aside a few copies of your shops special book by a Mr. Romeraz." The young woman nodded and put up a finger as to signal him to wait. She called someone in a hushed tone and then left.

A frown crept its way across Kyle's face when she didn't return for what seemed like ages. Mentally noting this, Kyle crossed his arms across his chest and sighed deeply. Kyle was a patient man, but today needed to go fast. He needed those books so then he could go to that veterinarian clinic and find that guy what's-his-face that his boss needed to get a message to then go back to Bangor so then he could work on his writing, and he wasn't exactly willing to wait for too much longer.

A tap on the shoulder shook Kyle out of his thoughts. He sharply turned around and faced the boy he had seen outside. The size difference was incredibly obvious now that they were standing face to face--well, face to chest, in Kyle's case. Kyle looked up, frown still present, and said, speaking in a very even tone despite his annoyance, "Why, I'm sorry, sir, but I don't take back what's been done. And if you have a problem with that, well, you can go fume about it somewhere else for all I care." Turning again so that he faced the desk, Kyle ended it with as much curtness as possible. Just as he turned, the young blonde had returned holding two books.

She seemed a little nervous and wary about Kyle still, but still handed over the books without looking away. "Ahh, here you go, umm, Mister...?"

"Watersprit. Kyle Watersprit. And thank you, Miss, and please, have a nice day."

K.J.:

I just frown and put the twenty in my pocket. "Sure," I say, narrowly avoiding rolling my eyes. I just turn and go over to the mystery section of the bookstore. I mean, I might as well. I was still confused about why I had decided to go to New York, just that it had felt right at the time.

I was pretty sure I'd made a horrible mistake on that one. The Rent is Too Dang High Guy or whoever had it right. Of course, on the plus side--no one cared what I did.

On the other hand, no one every really had, they'd just liked to moan and groan about it.
Half empty, half full--whatever.

I just pick up a book--"The Taken"--and start reading the first bit.

The good news was at least I didn't sound like a hick (more so British, according to a bunch of girls from my last school--but they'd been morons). I imagine that would make things harder on me.