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Young Writers Society


The Ruins



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Mon Jan 22, 2018 1:28 am
Mageheart says...



"The weapons I know of don't do that," he elaborated, still keeping his eyes focused on the bow. "What is that, exactly?"
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Mon Jan 22, 2018 1:56 am
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Featherstone says...



"A bow."
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


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Tue Jan 23, 2018 11:13 am
Mageheart says...



He let out a quiet sigh. "I meant the glowing part," he corrected, pointing at the bow in question. "The weapons I know of don't come awake, or however you would use that word in the present tense."
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Tue Jan 23, 2018 4:20 pm
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Featherstone says...



"Most don't. I imbued it."
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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Tue Jan 23, 2018 10:09 pm
Mageheart says...



He sighed. "I'm sorry if I'm being annoying, but I haven't met a civilization that does that yet. What exactly is imbuing?"
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Wed Jan 24, 2018 4:02 pm
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Featherstone says...



"The spirits of my pack sometimes...emerge."
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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590 Reviews

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Reviews: 590
Wed Jan 24, 2018 10:28 pm
Mageheart says...



His expression softened. He was unsure of how something like that worked, but the thought of being constantly reminded of what she had lost sounded horrible. He fingered his amulet. It was ironic that he could think that way; after all, he had been honoring Annie by wearing the amulet she had given him.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Wed Jan 24, 2018 10:31 pm
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Featherstone says...



"To some degree, anyways..." Ghost took a different meaning with that magic - not an entity, but rather a mere perception, an illusion, perhaps a presence, but only a vague one. A mirror image - nay, an apparation - of that which had once been and never would or could be once more.

She kneels again, getting back to the tracking. The bow doesn't awaken again.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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590 Reviews

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Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:02 pm
Mageheart says...



While she continued to look for what he assumed were tracks, he returned to the ruins. Ancient civilizations were his area of expertise. While this was in part due to the fact that he had lived through them, he also excelled at translations and had an innate love of learning about others. He was unsure of how much he could find, but it was worth a shot.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:06 pm
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Featherstone says...



Spoiler! :
I hope the whole wisdom tooth thing went smoothly and the pain killers are working adequately


The ruins are mostly gone, leaving only old, delapidated stone structures and walls. Some tablets scattered about have almost heiroglyphic carvings.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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590 Reviews

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Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:14 pm
Mageheart says...



Spoiler! :
It did! My mouth still hurts but the painkillers are definitely helping. It's enough for me to stay home from school. Which is great, because I'm still feeling good enough to hop on YWS.


He let out a heavenly sigh. When he really thought about it, this place was a wonderful set of ruins to explore. The small amounts remaining meant his exploration would be much quicker. It would make finding some key to understanding the language difficult because of a lack of references, but he would take it over nothing.
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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117 Reviews

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Gender: Male
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Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:18 pm
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Featherstone says...



Spoiler! :
Glad to hear it! Hopefully it'll feel a lot better tomorrow, too


There's a surprised exclamation from the woods, followed by a crash and cussing in at least three languages.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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Points: 1234
Reviews: 590
Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:21 pm
Mageheart says...



He spun around. "Rowan?" he questioned, peering into the woods. "Are you alright? Do you need help? I have some medical stuff in my bag!"
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.





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117 Reviews

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Gender: Male
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Wed Jan 24, 2018 11:23 pm
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Featherstone says...



"Did you bring a rope?" she hollers back. "Mine isn't long enough!"
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."


he/him/his





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590 Reviews

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Gender: Nonbinary
Points: 1234
Reviews: 590
Thu Jan 25, 2018 1:13 pm
Mageheart says...



He glanced down at his bag. He did, but what if it also wasn't long enough? He rarely needed to use the rope for himself. If he got into a situation he needed to escape from, he could shift to a guise that would allow him to get out of it. The rope was only there in case someone else needed it. "I did!" he said. He started to hurry towards where her voice was coming from. Worst case scenario, couldn't he tie her rope to his to make a longer one?
mage

[ she/her, but in a boy kinda way ]

roleplaying is my platonic love language.

queer and here.








That, sir, is the most frightening battlefield in the world: the blank page.
— Larry McMurtry, Comanche Moon