Young Writers Society

Premise

Just between a rich green forest and the misty shore of an expansive sea lies a small community. Here, life is simple and harmonious. Everyone has what they need, and everyone does their part to help each other. The community keeps to themselves, and life consists of hunting, gathering, fishing for food, creating works of art, whether it be small statues or intricate cloths, spending evenings by the fire, guarding the town perimeters from unwanted creatures, raising their children to follow in their footsteps, and burying their dead when the time came. This was the way it had been for as long as anyone could remember, and it would have gone on this way until the end of time. But all of this changes when the daily hunting party returns one evening and speak of a wild discovery, that of a strange abandoned monument in the forest, unlike anything they have ever seen before. The villagers flock to the monument, trying to understand where it came from, what it means. The thirst to explore, to discover a world beyond the community, grows among the younger generation. But there are some who'd rather the boat not be rocked, but no matter what, the simple, idyllic community life will never be the same.

What's it all about?

We play the citizens of an agricultural revolution era (c ~10000 years ago) community in present day, but with no knowledge of the outside world or the technology that we that enjoy on a day to day life. The abandoned monument is a crashed car of a ranger, and left behind was several pictures of his family, a file folder filled with important work documents (all gibberish to the villagers), and a nalgene 32 oz water bottle. You'll take the role of a given villager with his or her own strong sentiments about what should be done about the car. And eventually, as the curiosity of the villagers grow, new technologies will be developed and our great cities of the first world will be discovered, leading to a change in the lives the villagers from which there can be no return. Those of our civilization will be NPCs, but eventually, more will be discovered about the man who left behind the car.

Rules

-Try to commit to at least two posts a week
- Keep it PG-13 and be respectful of others
- Keep any posts that are not character posts to the DT, and use it to your advantage to communicate with your fellow members

Character Template

Code: Select all

[b]Name:[/b] (no last name)
[b]Age:[/b] (18+)
[b]Appearance:[/b] (an image will suffice, but written description is perfectly okay as well)
[b]Role in community:[/b] (hunter, gatherer, guard, artist, fisher, weaver, etc)
[b]Thoughts about exploration:[/b] (for, against, neutral. Please go into detail)
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b]

Any questions? Feel free to PM me.

quietly tags @Lumi @Iggy @AriaAdams @Rydia @Omniclysm @StellaThomas @Lauren2010

Carson

The fire flickered wildly in the moonlight, its glow a comfort in the uncertainties of late. Carson moved closer to the fire, relaxed by the warmth. It had been a long day, and this time was much needed. Around him families talked and laughed and ate, but Carson's mind was far away. Ever since the discovery of the monument, his thoughts had been filled with the idea of beyond. For the last four years, each day had been the same. Food. Shelter. Safety. Staying alive, but not living. Everyone who came into the world had the task to do whatever it took to stay alive.

Carson thought of the images he had seen in the strange monument. The beings in them were of the same species, that was certain. But yet they seemed so different. How had they even captured that image in the first place? And then there were the papers with strange writings. Their language? In the days since they had found the monument Carson had let his imagination run wild with thoughts of finding the strange civilization. They would show him what everything meant, and through their technologies he could have a better life, a different life.

As he picked at his meat, he noticed Grace sitting across the fire, playfully feeding her child; their child. Since they'd parted ways, he'd barely spoken to her, save for a few short and stiff exchanges. On occasion he thought of speaking to her again, of spending time with his child. But he'd always lost his nerve. After all, he couldn't be a father. He didn't know how. For her it seemed so natural, so effortless. They were better off apart, so that Carson couldn't mess anything else up. Besides, he had a goal now, one that would take all of his energy if he was to complete it.

Before long the sun had set and the villagers began retreating to their huts. Soon, Carson would make his way to the beach for the nightly meetings. But first, he was a headed to Ahanu's. Spending time with him was always reassuring.

Craos
"Son, where are you going?"
Craos rose from his seat beside the tribal priest to talk to his son at equal height. Not that it mattered, though, because eventhough Sarson was much younger than his father, he already was a full hand taller than Craos. He turned to face jis father before replying. "I am going to the beach, Father," he said.
"You've been spending a awful lot of time out there," Craos said, coughing slightly after he spoke.
Sarson had an annoyed look in his eye. "It's not like we're performing dark rituals or cannabilism, Father. We're just watching the sea, Night Mother (the moon), and her children (the stars)."
Before Craos could reply, Sarson strode off in the direction of the beach.
"I don't like this," Craos mumbled as he sat down again.
"Their just children, my husband," Craos' wife Dana said, caressing his arm.
"It's just-- I long for everything to be back to the way ir used be. Before the monument. Life was exciting and organized then, but now it's..." Craos trailed off before he finished his sentence.
Craos, Dana, Craos' mother and a few others, including that mysterious fellow Carson, sat around the fire until the sun started setting and the chill of Night started creeping into the older tribe members' bones. Craos' mother was already dozing off when he and Dana helped her back home. He kissed both his mother, his wife and his younger daughter good night before lurching over to his "office" where he prepared the bodies of the dead and healed the ill and wounded. There from inside a small chest he owned, he drew out the strange writings which he was trying to decipher.
He sat there, working as best he could until the moon was starting on her downwards trip before he too retired to his chambers.
His son did not return home until even later.

~Thom~

I move around the campfire and sit down beside Carson. He has a troubled look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask him. He sighs and shifts in his seat, but says nothing. I turn my head, giving up it. Normally he would say what was troubling him, but this time, for some reason or other, he doesn't. I am surprised by this since he and I are practically brothers in all but blood. I lived with him for several years while I was still an orphan. In that time we became good friends. Finally, a minute later he spoke haltingly.

"It's Grace." He stated simply. I nod, understanding what he means.

A couple years ago they had gotten pregnant and had a child before splitting up. It has been hard on Carson ever since. I lower my head and mumble an apology as I idly run my knife's blade against a small sticks the result is that the bark slowly begins the process of peeling off.

"I need to go to visit Ahanu," Carson says abruptly standing up a minute or two later. I nod and watch as he walks off sullenly. I wish silently that there is something I could do to help him, but can think of nothing.

~~~

Later that night I was on my way home and hear noises coming from behind a building. That building just so happens to be the local bar, Wally's tavern. [Is this okay to include]? I grip one of my knives, hesitant as to whether I should of to check things out or not. If I had Carson with me I would have gone there without hesitation, seeing he is one of the town guards. As it is though, I am reluctant to wander around where I could probably get hurt without even trying to.

In the end my curiosity gets the better of me I sneak around the corner of the building sword in hand. To my surprise I see a ring of figures sitting and standing in a circle on the beach. The waves lap up onto the shore calmly just like any other night.

"We can't just go off on our own without letting the village elders know. They might cast us out from the village if we were to ever return." The voice belongs to an middle aged man, though I don't know who he is. I creep closer to try and be able to hear a softer voice speaking.

"Come on. Let's think. Why would we attempt this unless we were trying to get away from the village. I mean come on! If we are going to try and do this thing with the knowledge of the elders we might as well go ask them right now instead of wasting our time meeting together to discuss the issue. But I know for certain that they won't let us go. Trust me; if you all want to go ahead and explore the land around us you will have to prepare yourselves to live independently of the community. If not we will fail miserably."
"Come. Think reasonably," the first man said again. "It would be impossible to live outside of the community. Where would we find tools. Where would we get supplies? Who would we be exploring for. There is no use if we find a bunch of land and then die in it without food or shelter! I think that the best plan would be to convince the village elders that we could benefit from finding new land. If they oppose us we can continue to work through the situation. Many of them are old and will soon die. They will subsequently be replaced by newer younger men. All we have to do is convince them that our plan is reasonable and will benefit the community. After that our task will be simple, just so long as we have their willing support. That is all I have to say to you."

The old man stands up and walks away from the ring straight toward me! I try to blend in with the ground, but the man accidentally trips over me and yells. In a matter of seconds I am discovered and surrounded by the entire group. Frantically I look around me for a route of escape, but there is nowhere to run. I'm trapped!

Grace

I sat at the end of the table preparing my little girls food. She was already three and as beautiful as ever. She was the love of my life and I did everything in my power to keep her safe. I glanced up and noticed Carson glancing at me but I looked back down. He was still as cute as I remembered. Three years ago, he was the man of my life but he just couldn't accept our child we had made together, I was definitely heart broken at the time. But, once Emma came into my life, everything was perfect, even being alone.

After Emma ate, I picked her up and we headed back to the cottage. It was her bed time and time for me to begin sketching a drawing that has been on my mind all day.

"Goodnight darling." I said to Emma as I laid her down, she smiled at me and rolled over to go to sleep. I patted her a few times and covered her up. "I love you baby." I whisper to her. She was already passed out. I couldn't help but smile. I walked out of the door but left it cracked open so I could hear if she woke up.

"Time to start sketching." I say to myself. I went and grabbed my pencil and some paper and looked out the window before sitting on a chair by the table. My fingers elegantly swayed ever which way until I was done.

It took me about an hour and a half and then I was done. I smiled and put it up for the night.

I walked outside onto my porch and caught a glimpse of Carson. I smiled and just watched a moment before walking back in.

"I miss him." I mumble then lock my door, walked to my bedroom, and went to sleep.

---------------------------

Only about an hour passed that I had stayed asleep and I heard my sweet Emma waking up crying. I walked into her bedroom, "Emma darling, what is wrong?" I say. I pick her up and then she just smiles and hugs me.

I sing to her until she falls back to sleep and put her back in her bed.

Everything was bugging me and I walked outside. I saw Carson walking back from somewhere and I yelled to him but not to loud. He looked at me but didn't say a word.

"Come see me." I whisper yell, and he walked over. He looked a little troubled but just stood in front of me.

"Don't you miss me at all?" I blurt out. My heart was aching for his touch and it seemed as though he didn't even miss me. "Don't you even wonder about Emma? How she is doing? I hate us not being together. It has been three years and I still cant get over you." I tell him.

A tear came from my eyes and I sat down in a chair on my porch.

"Say something." I say.

Elder Ahanu

No matter the medicines the village doctor concocted, none could compare with the smell of the ocean after dark. Ahanu doused the flame beneath his kiln and ran his old, ragged hands beneath a replenishing stream of water devised by his late friend, Tsavo The Engineer. The man's voice played through Ahanu's ears like a long-forgotten tune; a ghost in all but spirit.

With his day's work completed, Ahanu laid back in one of the hammocks hanging about his small bungalow with a drink of salted, scalding tea. Through the windows, the peaceful ocean recited old poetry to him. It was utter and complete peace--because peace to Ahanu was not defined by a lack of sound, but rather by the harmony of sound and silence, the nestling of ambiance where the comfort could warm the soul.

With a soft breath into his cup of tea, he readied himself for the fast-approaching footsteps: signature only of the closest Ahanu had ever come to family. His front door creaked open, and Ahanu called in a deep, cartooned voice suited for child's play: "Who opens doors at this unholy hour?!"

A small breath-laugh elicited his response from the door in the same cartoonish voice. "Why can't doors open themselves in this wonderful age?!"

Ahanu sat forward in his hammock and placed his tea on a windowsill as Carson entered, appearance disheveled as if he'd been up to something suited for the Harvest Moon's Festival. Beyond that, Ahanu took in a long gaze of his long-suffered pupil's expression. "Isn't it a tragedy," asked Ahanu, "that sorrow hunts us down in the night?"

Carson adjusted his gaze to the floor, manually changing his expression, but lost his smile when he looked back to his mentor's gaze. "You'd think it would track us in the daytime, when it could see the faces we make."

Slowly, Ahanu stood, fetching a coconut-carved teacup from his shelves. "The way it hunts, I think you could say that sorrow is blind." The elder poured the cup halfway, where Carson preferred it (because any higher and he was bound to spill some), but withheld the coconut cup from his hands until he got an important answer. "Who sicced sorrow to your mind?"

Carson went through a number of expressions again before sighing. "Grace."

He slowly nodded, and handed the cup to his pupil. "I see." Carson took his place in a seat made of a leather bag filled with tiny pebbles gathered from the river. The boy reclined awkwardly in it, but loved the seat nonetheless. As far as Ahanu was concerned, it was Carson's own possession. "The mother of your child can no doubt grieve you, whether or not she is dead." Ahanu sat back in his hammock and took a sip of tea. "And while I have no doubt that she may trouble you," he continued, "I can tell when you're lying to me."

His eyes fell on a very surprised--and very guilty--Carson.

Ahanu softened his expression, like wetting clay. "Please tell an old man the truth, son." He winked. "Just this once."

Alayna - In the morning of that day

The sun was shining brightly and the sky was a light airy blue with white cotton clouds. Alayna walked down the street casually to the small building that housed her students for the day. It was only a five hour routine before the children would have to go home to help their parents or the community. Some of her kids already started their apprenticeship and would only be there for three hours or less. Sometimes she wondered how the society functioned without knowing so much. Everyone learns only what they are suppose to master instead of learning a little of everything.

She wondered, what if the carpenter cut himself? His apprentice would have left her class by noon, before she talks a little about how to wrap and clean wounds. What if the cook needs a ready made table? The cook only knows how to cook. There was just something off about the way that it worked, it made everything seem a little shallow and meaningless. She felt there was just so much more to know that was being hidden from her, and it discouraged her on her way to school everyday. Although on that day she tried to smile at the beautiful sky and the fresh breeze that covered her face and blew through her curly red hair.

But as she turned a corner she noticed him and froze. He noticed her too and left the man he was talking to and came straight to her. She wanted to move but for some reason she couldn't, she was stuck in her position while he stalked up towards her as if he was some king. It was all she could do not to inflict pain on him.

"Look at you!" He exclaimed with a grin. She flinched as he came closer. He was - he was, well in short, a bastard. She had been avoiding him for the entire year after she ended things. Usually she would have run the other way, or have completely ignored him and when she had to talk to him, she would keep asking him how Sandri was.

Sandri was his "true love", the one girl he constantly cheated on her with. Constantly is the key word here, he would have kept it going too if she hadn't gotten pregnant and came to confront him in front of Alayna. That was the last straw for Alayna, of course. So despite the fact that her parents and a lot of the community were disappointed, she decided not to marry the successful builder that was Lyon. In fact since he never proposed, she simply decided to not be with Lyon.

The truth was she wanted him to marry Sandri and to have a happy every after. She also just wanted him to never touch her or speak to her ever again. Even though she was suspicious of his behavior throughout their relationship, she had trusted him. She was falling in love with him. She was considering marrying him, going to bed with him, living with him for the rest of her life. Possibly giving up being an educator and then being a housewife. They had so many experiences together, so many memories. Now they were all wasted, just pieces of shards from her broken heart.

She winced and pulled away instantly as he took her hand.

"What do you want, Lyon?" She asked sourly.

"How are you?" He asked calmly. She curled her hands into a fist in fear of slapping him. She slapped him only once and that was the day she found out. The day that his other woman came in and told him she was pregnant. Apparently Alayna was just the cover up because Sandri was considered somewhat of a woman of loose morals, or a prostitute.

Lyon's family wanted him to be with Alayna whereas he didn't. So on the day when all this was revealed to Alayna she slapped someone for the first time in her life. She didn't slap him when he left their moments together with stupid excuses, never slapped him when she noticed he was blatantly ignoring her, didn't slap him when he laughed at her wanting to learn more or when he flirted openly with other women. No, but she slapped him when she was on her limit. And honestly she kind of was.

Already feeling discouraged about school, she was also discouraged about how the artifacts or monuments they found are being feared by the society rather than being studied. She wanted to talk to people about it, but she felt too afraid to go to the elders and when she went to her mother and father they laughed at her. When she went to her friends they told her she was crazy, they told her that nobody should even want to know what was outside. After how frustrating the week had been thus far she did not need to run into this man and have him try to find out how she was. He didn't even deserve to know.

"I'm good." She lied. She hoped he would take a hint by her scowl and leave her alone. But of course he didn't.

"I thought you should know, Sandri and I are getting married." She didn't say a word, didn't really smile but also stopped scowling. She nodded. He continued,

"You're invited to the ceremony." She frowned again.

"No, thank you." She told him. He nodded and then smirked.

"You always looked so cute when you were upset." Her hand flew into the air against her will and luckily for him he took a step back as she swiped the air.

"Get away from me, Lyon." She said dangerously, her voice was shaking. He looked scared for a moment, his eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" He asked his eyes narrowing a bit.

"None of your business." She replied as she started walking. She sighed in frustration when she heard his feet behind her. "Leave me alone Lyon!" She said loudly not really caring if she made a scene. This is how she managed to stay with him for so long, he was a trickster, feigning care.

"I'm not going to stop following you until you tell me."

"You are a guard, you tell me? What are we doing about this new found monument? What are we doing about the outside world? When are we going to search for the meaning of the things discovered? Or are we just going to sit around and wait till we die?!" She spat furiously.

"Oh? You're curious about the monument? Well then, it is by invite only but there is a meeting tonight after the big bonfire, it is about the monument. I was invited, and now I am inviting you. But you must swear to secrecy." He said it very quickly but quietly as she had already started walking away again. She paused after he finished though and turned to face him. He was smiling.

"You're not lying?" She asked. He shook his head and walked up to her confidently.

"Come with me to the meeting, and I'll help you find out more about this monument."

"But I'm a woman, will they not mind?"

"You're with me." He winked. It was all she could do not to try to slap him again.

"Fine. But you must stay some feet away from me at all times. I do not want you to touch me, and only come close to me if I need your help." He laughed and started to walk away from her.

"Wait for me after the evening bonfire, I'll walk you to the meeting place." She would have cursed at him but he was too far away already.

Curious about what would take place at the meeting that evening Alayna tried to recall everything she had learned about outside civilization.

Craos

"Master Craos! Master Craos!"
Craos was busy preparing a medical brew for Alayna to use in her lesson at school today when his apprentice ran in, face mingled with excitement and panic. Craos looked up at the young girl who stood in front of him.
"What's the matter, girl?" he asked, " You look like you've been touched by an ancestor."
"It's the monument!" she nearly shouted.
Craos stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Take a deep breath and calm down," he said in soothing voice, "There we go. Now, tell me exactly what's wrong."
She took a deep breath before replying. "It happened this morning while I was gathering berries."
"What happened?" Craos asked with growing curiousity and suspicion.
"The noise, master Craos."
"What noises, girl? Speak plainly!"
"I apologize, Master," she inclined her head before continuing
, "We I was gathering the berries, I heard strange noises coming from the monument..."
"Don't call it that," Craos interrupted her.
"I apologize, Master. I went to investigate what it was, and it turned out to be some black box with a strange black stick protuding from the top."
Craos held up his hand to signal that she should be silent. After pacing back and forth in silence for several minutes, his apprentice obidiently waiting for him to spea again.
"Tell me about the noises," Craos said, "What did it sound like."
"That's just the thing," the girl said, "It started off as a unnatural crackling sound, but then it abruptly changed into a voice."
"A voice?!" Craos exclaimed, "Do you mean a human voice?"
"Yes, Master, she said, "but it spoke a language I couldn't understand."
Craos walked over to his office table and gathered papyrus sheets. He took his walking staff from the corner and made his way to the door.
"Go and fetch all the Elders and summon them to the 'monument'," he said to his apprentice as he opened the door, "I'll fetch Elder Ahanu and we'll meet the others there."
He walked down to Ahanu's house, his mind trying to comprehend what all of this meaned.

Carson

Carson felt the weight of Ahanu's gaze upon him, and for the first time he felt hesitation arise. It wasn't Grace that was troubling him. Yes, he still thought about her, but his thoughts had been consumed with that of the monument and the strange person from another world that it belonged to. That was the truth, and Ahanu had seen it. Carson was used to being able to tell him anything, except now he was hesitant. He hadn't heard Ahanu speak much of the monument, but in his heart he knew. Those his age were elderly, so firmly set in their ways. To them the village was all there was and all there would be, and anything that disrupted the simplicity of their way of life could not be.

Still, he found the courage to speak. "I can't get those images out of my head."

"What images?" he responded, his voice calm, caring. Ahanu had always been there for him, through the best of times, the worst of times. He was more of a father than Carson's natural one.

"The ones that were left in the monument," he answered plainly.

"Son, you musn't let yourself be troubled by that. It's consuming your thoughts."

"How can it not? There are other people out there. They're the same as us, but so different. I want to find out more about them, who they are, the way the live" Carson answered.

In the hut there was dead silence.

Elder Ahanu

Ahanu slowly stood, arms hanging limp at his sides. Carson's face was twisted into dread and intrigue, and Ahanu wasn't quite sure how. Nevertheless, the elder crossed the room to his boy and lowered his voice.

"I want you to listen to my words. I want you to hear the message that is not spoken aloud."

Carson narrowed his gaze, but Ahanu was not deterred.

"When I was a small boy, my father and the other warriors received a signal in the middle of the night. If my memory is correct, I'd say it was a night just like this one." He paused. "All was calm, and the ocean talked all night long." Ahanu pressed down on Carson's shoulder, bringing him into a seat while Ahanu kneeled and pulled a small wicker basket from beneath his tea table. "My father and his comrades fled in the night to a village that once stood quite proudly on Nakote's Peak, to the north. What they found was not a warrior signaling them for help, but rather a twisted, deformed object that had appeared in the night."

The elder unfolded the swaddling cloths from the wicker basket and placed his hand inside. "They called it Nakote's Star, and they worked day and night to tear it apart, to learn whatever they could about it." Ahanu paused once more. "My father, however, objected." He retrieved a small scrap of twisted metal from the basket and placed it at Carson's feet. "Within days, a disease overtook the village, my boy, and every man, woman, and child was taken."

The old man's eyes cast away and narrowed. "You've never heard of Nakote before now, have you, boy?"

Carson shook his head. "No, sir. The name is new in my head."

Ahanu returned his gaze to his 'apprentice'. "This is all I will tell you about Nakote's Star, Carsote, because the pain it wrings from my bones is too great for just a lesson." He shook his head and nodded to the twisted metal. "When you even think of going near that monument, you remember the way my skin tugs at my eyes, the gravity on my lips." He shook his head. "I want you nowhere near that thing."

And then came a rap at the door. Ahanu stood silently and answered more formally, demeanor clearly different from before their conversation.

"Yes. Yes, I understand. I will meet the others there shortly." And his guest was gone.

"I think I understand," Carson murmured.

Ahanu appraised his expression. "Carsote, you are a man of your own, and ultimately the choices you make in this world affect no one more than yourself. Remember, though, that you are never the only soul involved, son." He retrieved his cloak from his wardrobe and stood by the door for a moment. "Not even for a moment."

And with his apprentice in his bungalow, hands appraising a rusted relic, Ahanu left for the monument.