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Young Writers Society


Do You Believe In Ghosts?



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Fri Sep 02, 2016 2:16 am
Kelpies says...



Some people refuse to believe in what they cannot see, some in what they cannot prove. So- How can you prove that something is disappearing if no one acknowledges its existence in the first place?

The ghosts are disappearing. Places once haunted by hundreds of spirits are now empty, and no one knows why. Those who have noticed though are panicking- the spirit energy of these poor souls could be used to achieve bad ends- very bad ends. As for the ghosts- those with their wits intact are running for sanctuary.

...Do you have what it takes to help them?

Ghosts, humans, aliens, vampires, werewolves etc. welcome.

Character Template:
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[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Up For Romance?[/b]
[b]Species:[/b]
[b]Strengths:[/b]
[b]Weaknesses:[/b]
[b]Physical Description:[/b]
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Rules:
Spoiler! :

1. No killing/seriously injuring someone’s character without their permission.
2. No sex, you can gut someone alive for all I care though.
3. Have fun!


If you have any questions ask them in the DT!
We are who we are, and if someone has a problem with that; that's their problem not ours.
***
I do believe that insane is the only way to go.





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223 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 282
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Thu Sep 15, 2016 12:16 am
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Kelpies says...



Jane Augustine

When I trained to become a cryptozoologist- I thought it might be fun. When I started getting sent to Loch Ness almost every month I was proven wrong. Some of my ghostly companions were slowly losing their minds and I needed to be there so they didn't destroy each other. That was the thing with ghosts- no one can live forever so after the first couple thousand years they get a kind of alzheimer's where they lose their minds very slowly until they simply cease to exist. Just as well- there was nothing familiar left for them here- maybe they were going to a better place.

Not that I'd know- none of them ever came back.

Anyway after the eighth or ninth time Loch Ness stopped being interesting. I'd do practically anything to avoid going there for the... Twenty-first time. Arthur floated in his marionette nearby. He spoke in morse code by clicking the mouth of the marionette, he just didn't really want to talk- in fact I wasn't even sure he could. He started clicking.

"You can't leave right now, you know the news." He said. Ghosts were disappearing- and everyone was scared that they would be next.

"I can't stay- not unless you want me to fall behind on my rent and for us ALL to be homeless."

There was a long pause. Of course I had to go because we'd all be better off if I was away for a few weeks than if I had to leave forever. Before long exorcists would be called and these wonderful spirits killed. It would be a ghostly massacre, and none of us could let that happen.

I clicked my suitcase shut, I had to catch my flight.

"I'm coming." He eventually stated. I smiled slightly, opening my suitcase again so he could get situated.

"Just like always." I said, before shutting it again.
We are who we are, and if someone has a problem with that; that's their problem not ours.
***
I do believe that insane is the only way to go.





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Thu Sep 15, 2016 5:09 pm
belladonna says...



Dulcinea Traleo

It has been many years since I held hope that I would move on, but now I have found myself praying for love. Only the purity of true love could allow me to proceed with my afterlife; but was my love pure if I was looking for it to save myself? I despaired. The few fellow ghosts that deigned to have me in their presence were… not dead, but certainly gone. I could not say for certain if I would ever meet them again, and I was not sure I wanted to find out.

I took comfort in the company of the living. They did not know who I was. Unfortunately, I could rarely stay around for long. Why was I so unlucky? To be taken with a live person was worse than torture. I watched them suffer, grow old and die. I could not bare it, not ever. I would always inevitably distance myself from them, whether by ignoring them or, in desperate cases, scorning them.

Wandering endlessly, I was unsure of where I was. It seemed to be a part of the United Kingdom; I placed the accent of a passerby to be distinctly Scottish, although I could not be sure if I was truly in Scotland. A discarded newspaper revealed that I was in Drumnadrochit. I sighed, knowing that anyone I came across was, most likely, a seeker of Nessie. As a ghost, I have the ability to easily search the water, but I have neither the desire nor the time. More important matters are afoot.

I hadn’t noticed that anything odd was happening, until Fiona. She was a fellow ghost, having died just a couple decades prior, and she was perfect. Looking back on it, it could not have been any more wrong, but I was enamoured. Everything was going well for once, when she vanished. If it had been anyone else, I would have assumed she simply passed on without me. But not her. She wasn’t ready. She had no desire to leave the world until two events had passed - the first being the death of her killer, who was still rotting in prison. The second was the birth of her grandchild. She had a small son at her time of death, but now he is grown. She desired to meet her son's legacy. His wife was only seven months along when Fiona disappeared.

That was five months before now, but I still reeled. I visited the child, but could not bring myself to look upon my love’s son. He and his wife were delighted to have physical proof of their love, and I hated it. I forced myself to leave before I did something I would regret.

In any case, I had decided that Fiona wouldn’t have left. If not for my sake, then for her own closure. I needed to find her, if I could. I owed her that much, for all that she didn’t know me…

I walked the dirty streets with brisk fervor, praying that there would be someone that knew what was going on with the spirits. I settled upon a cheap hotel near an old, traditional house. Old buildings attract other ghosts, and sleazy hotels and motels seemed to do the same for those who worked with them. I had very little info to go on, but whatever took my Fiona away, along with many others, must be stopped.

I told myself that it was for the others, but I knew I feared only for myself.





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Wed Oct 12, 2016 6:14 pm
reikann says...



Lovely sky today, I thought.

The airport air lay thick and crowded with passing souls.

I perched in an upholstered chair outside the terminal, taking care to shut out the bustle and roar of cars and buses. I knew I seemed out of place, but I seemed out of place anywhere, and granted strange looks a serene smile in return.

The comforting weights of a respectable arsenal insulated me from any sense of concern.

The questionably oiled squeak of old automatic doors altered me to yet another passerby.

I stood up. “Excuse me, are you Miss Augustine?”

This passerby stood a reasonable height for a girl her age, clad in a yellow jacket and brown hair. I recognized her face off the photo hidden in an inner pocket.

“Yes?” She appraised me - taking in my uncanny appearance - I assumed. It might as well have been a badge of the supernatural on its own. Her stunningly bright grin stayed steady the whole way through. “Are you from the Loch Ness cyrptozoology division?”

“Oh, no, I do freelance.” I waved a hand in the air, dissipating the question. For a breath, a string of vivid red beads was visible underneath my monochrome jacket.

“Might you have time for a coffee? Rumor has it, you’re one of the best in the business.”

Jane Augustine looked from me to the choked terminal. The bags under her eyes rivaled her suitcase. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

----

I’d picked a quiet bistro off city central in art noveau style with impressionist patrons. We both got shallow ceramic mugs of coffee and took a seat outside.

“So, Jinx,“ Jane finally asked, ten minutes into idle chatter about Loch Ness. “What are you here for, really?“

”I‘m here to handle the problem.” I smiled, quite aware of the enigmatic edge my smile was taking on.

”’Handle‘? What‘s that supposed to mean?” Jane leaned across her coffee. I detected a glint of distrust in her eyes.

“It means whatever you want it to mean.” I took a sip, allowing a moment for a dramatic pause. “But, perhaps, allow it to suffice that our lines of work overlap, and should the occasion arise, I would prefer your friendship over an alternative.”

A chill breeze rose and fell across our quaint bistro front. Lovely sky today, I thought.

Spoiler! :
Has it technically been my turn since mid-September? Might well be. In any case, here's something now! @Kelpies, continue this conversation or no; I hope it should be plausible either way? Happy Halloween!








But what about second breakfast?
— Peregrin Took