Young Writers Society

Name: Clara

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Appearance:

Personality: Overconfident, reckless, noisy, lacking in inhibitions. She'll tell you her entire life story after an hour of knowing you, or after five minutes of drink.

Post: Prisoner

Background: She had been a pirate for a few years, but was captured when attempting to hijack the boat they are now travelling on a few months ago. The rest of the crew escaped. She is now being transferred to a different prison.

Secrets: Aha. She has many, of course. Although she'll tell you anything and everything about what's happened to her (whether you want to hear it or not), she's very closed with her feelings.

Other: She's a notorious drunkard. Expect her to be wheedling people out of rum at every opportunity.

Oooooo, this is interesting.

Name: Doesn't have a name but she calls herself Mia (Came up with it because when she was asked her name once she said "Me? Uh..." and the person thought she said Mia so she went along with it)

Gender: Female

Age: (12-19): 15

Appearance:

Personality: Mia is the kind of person who can get even the quietist person to come out of their sheel and have fun. She's always looking on the bright side of things. I guess you could say she's outgoing too. But she likes quieter people for some reason.

Post: Ship's boy. Well, ship's girl

Background: Mia was abandoned in an alley when she was six years old. Since then she's been through to much to tell and yet she puts that all behind her 'live everyday like your last' is her favorite saying

Secrets: Mia can fight extremely well. She's also accidently killed three people in the last five years while trying to defend herself. She's ashamed of it.

Other: Up for love

Name: Kadel
Gender: passing herself off as a boy, actually a girl
Age: 14
Post:crows nest

Appearence: Her short hair covers her face past her nose and is longer slightly in the back (sandy blonde) she is short for her age (looks about 11) and thin. she wears clothing she made herself from fabric from an old dress makers factory. you cant see her eyes and she rarely speaks so you never see her teeth.

Personality: shes quiet, she thinks alot but only talks when it seems fit, almost never because she shy and afraid she'll get found out.

Background: she was orphaned, or at least she thinks she was. she stopped searching for her parents when she was 11. she is afraid of what she knows and terrified of what she might find

Secrets: shes definitly tougher than she looks and an awesome con artist, noone knows what the symbol on the gold chain she wears around her neck means.

Other: shes quite literate and enjoys reading, she still believes that her family is out there.

So just to clear up: emoticon220, is your character a ship's boy, or something else? Just so I know whether to fill in another spot or not...

**Also guys, I know this isn't my story book, but can we be sure to keep the gender ratio even? For example, right now, we have three.. maybe four girls going to be ship boy's..

Redbird, I can't wait to start this!(:**

Yes, that's a good idea. And I can't either!

We just need a few more people, and then we can start! So please, join!

We do have eight characters...

I suppose....And it doesn't look like anyone else is joining, so, yes, we can start. But I don't have time to right now, so if someone else would like to....

Andrew the stowaway

Andrew sat huddled in the straw. It made him feel like bugs were crawling over him constantly, and the dust made him want to sneeze. His stomach ached with hunger, but he really couldn’t risk being caught now. They would send him to the stocks. He couldn’t wait for them to set sail in a few hours; then he wouldn’t have to be quite so fearful of discovery. The pigs snuffled in there trough eating rotten potatoes. He wished he could sneak over, but a man was hauling hay inside.

Allison:

My master, the gunner to this ship, was worried as hell as scurried on and off the ship. The king's men were searching for him and wouldn't let up till they found 'em. He wouldn't tell me the details, he said the less I knew the better.

Alls I can tell is that this ship ain't headed for anywhere good there bein' convicts, convicted and soon to be aboard. I saw Clara this afternoon, drunk on whiskey as they herded her into the cell.

I went down to the ships hold to count the powder barrels and the artillery. Nuff for the crew, just enough and that's what worries me. Pirates are abundant in these waters and we'd need all hands to help.

I also think there's a stowaway. I'm small enough to get into the little nooks and crannies of this ship to the godforsaken underbelly and I will just say that no rat leaves a rucksack out in plain view. (Plain view if you were exploring the cracks like I was...) I left the "rat" a biscuit.

The first thing I need to do on this ship is to make friends with the cook. There's nothin better than having connections with him. I wonder if he's in the galley yet...

Saul - Ship's boy.
Sweat poured down Saul’s back. It ran in his eyes and made them sting. The little adventure he had been looking forward too was completely gone. Each step (even with six men on each capstan bar) felt like a hundred. It didn’t feel as if they were making any progress. When would the anchor finally be up so they could set sail?
He thought of all the jobs on the boat. This may not be the most dangerous job, but it sure wasn’t the easiest. He wished he could be a lubber up in the sails with the wind in his hair.

Kaysie (Fonzo)

Kaysie held the rope in between her teeth, her thighs clenching around the mast as she held on for dear life. She reached high above her, grabbed a loose rope, and yanked it down, tying it, and the rope that was once in her mouth tightly together. She pulled herself up with the hanging ropes beside her, which were wrapped around the tallest mast. Unclenching her thighs, she fell, clinging to the rope with wide eyes, which watered from the salty air, until her barefeet hit the deck, sliding to a stop in front of the capstan bar. She waved, smiling brightly, before whiping the sweat off her brow.

"I fixed it!" She called over to the master rigger, who nodded, and pointed to another broken rope, which had to be fixed before the set sail. "Why didn't you tell me before, you oaf!" She snarled softly, beginning to pull herself back up to the masts.

"Hurry up Fonzo, the anchor's almost up!" the Master Rigger yelled gruffly, Kaysie climbing the thick rope faster.

Nick,

I sure as hell can't tell what's goin' on, like, and it bothers me. Oh, sure, I kin tell that we're puttin' off or some such thing, but I haven't got any idea what to do. Everyone's scuttlin' around like ants and there ain't anyone payin' attention to me, and, oh Lord, what if the Bo'sun sees me just sittin' here an' he thinks I'm a worthless bit o' filth and 'e tosses me over the side? I don't want that, sure I don't. So's I goes over to a sailor who ain't doin' much an' I sidle up to him all confident like.

""Ello there!" I says, tryin' to sounds all manly, "Anythin' fer me to do?"

The sailor looks at me all amused, like, and grins, "Ye ain't got any idea what you gots yerself into, do ye?

I redden at that, but hold my ground. No sense backin' down now.

The sailor sighs, "Well, there's nothin' doin' fer that now. An' there's nothin' fer ye to do, neither. We're almost underway, anyhows. Might as well get yerself some grub, git to know yer fellows, like. Now, jus' go down to the galley over there, and that'll fix ye up good, I reckon."

"Thank ye most kindly, sir," I says, wantin' to show respect, or something.

"Now don' be callin' be 'sir,' boy," the sailor says sternly, "Me name's Carlson. An' if I git to likin' you, ye can call me Jack."

I blush again, furious for makin' a mistake, "I'm sorry, si-Carlson."

He grins again, "'S all right, young pup. Ye'll learn, right enough."

An' with that, he gives me a little push towards the galley, an' off I goes.

The galley is quite large, and filled with the most delicious scents, like. I knows immediately tha' this is the place fer me. There's already a line fer grub, so's I goes to the end of and waits patiently fer my turn. When this time finally rolls around, the cook looks me up an' down.

"No mess kit? Well, take this fer now," he hands me a piece o' wood tha' looks like it's just been ripped from some poor crate, "An' half ration fer ship's boys." He plops a large biscuit and a succulent piece of meat onto me bit o' wood.

"Thank ye most kindly, Cook, sir," I say, and scuttles off to find a place to sit, like. Yes, I can get used to this.

Allison:

"Ey, Nick!!!!" I bounded over Nick, he looked new and confused. "You lookin' to favour with the cook eh?" I whispered in his ear. When he looked baffled I explained. "Ya gotta make friends with em' that's the most important. Catch them millers. Ya know, rats, they like that." I leaned over him and took somethin off his plate. "Thanks." I ran back to my post and watched the harbour and it's beehive energy.