Young Writers Society

When you wake up, you find that you've somehow ended up in an unfamiliar city. You might not know what a city is, but you know that you've never seen this place's towering buildings - or the paved roads that run through them. The city is strangely empty. It must have had people, once, but it looks as if they vanished without a trace. Even plants show no interest in growing past the borders of pristine little balconies and well-maintained parks.

But there's something seriously wrong.

You're not yourself. You've either found yourself wearing clothes that completely obscure your appearance, or have somehow changed into a person you definitely are not. You might even look like that person. There are other people waking up in the city, too, but they're different as well. You can tell from how they're dressed, and how confused they seem when you finally see each other.

To make matters worse, you can't introduce yourself as yourself. You can only give a fake name - or sometimes not even a name at all. And the name can't be a name that you've already used an alias before.

That's the weird thing, about this place. While anyone can theoretically end up here, the people with the strongest secrets - and the most experience with false identities - seem to be more likely to show up.

If you're going to figure out how to get home, you'll have to somehow trust these strangers as you search the city. And you'll have to beware the whirs of machinery that lurks around the corners and in the towers.

Because in this city, nothing is as it seems.

1. Please include a description of your character in your first post - you can throw it into a spoiler using the code down below and put it at the top of your post.

Code: Select all

[spoiler]Put your description here![/spoiler]

2. Feel free to pick characters from whatever you want. They can be from another roleplay, a storybook, a novel or even a fanfiction of yours. The world, time and plot they're from ultimately just impacts how they interact with this roleplay, so it's really up to you.

3. You can have as many characters as you want, but there'll come a point where you can no longer add new ones because it would alter the plot too much. I'll make sure to say something when that happens, so don't worry about it for now.

4. Please don't write for anyone else's characters. It's hard to predict what someone else might have their characters do, and it takes away some of the fun for the other writers.

5. You're free to have your character guess what the plot is, but don't make any plot-altering decisions with talking about with me first. You can PM me or chat in our discussion topic if you have an idea - I love scheming! I just want to make sure your schemes can be incorporated into what I'm already scheming.

(It would also be really helpful if you said you were joining over in that thread, rather than in a post here. )

6. Don't post multiple times in a row, and make sure everyone has a chance to get a response in. There's going to be times where it makes more sense to post back-and-forth between two people, but try avoiding it unless you absolutely have to - it prevents the other writers from getting too behind and feeling like they aren't involved with the story.

7. Have fun!

Lacey knew something was wrong the minute she came to. Not only did she feel shorter, but thinner, too. Not that she had a weight problem before. But it seemed like she'd gone from her normal size six to a size zero.

She stood up and felt her head rush as she did. Yes, she was definitely smaller and shorter. And she had no idea where she was. Wherever they were, it didn't feel like a real place. Something out of Modern Times or Metropolis. The air was thick and muggy. Hot, but there wasn't the slightest trace of sun in the sky.

How had she gotten here? She'd been with Mathis the night before, and he'd been a gentleman. They'd taken a long walk on his ranch and looked out at thee stars. He'd told her stories of what all the constellations met. And then he'd driven her home and told her he'd see her again soon. She liked him a lot, and it seemed like he liked her too. But he wanted to take things slow. They'd seen each other twice now and he hadn't tried anything yet. She wanted to introduce him to her family.

Except she knew what he would say.

He's taking advantage of you. He wants you for one thing. Why can't he find someone his own age?

She understood it, but if they just met Mathis, if they gave him a chance, they'd know he was nothing like her grandfather.

The dress she was wearing was olive green with polka dots. It looked like something from the 1930s or 40s. It wasn't something she would have worn, but she felt comfortable in it. The heeled Mary Janes she wore were past their prime, and her stockings had runs in them.

Ew, stockings. They were incredibly uncomfortable, and as she bent down to take them off, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

Wait, was that a blonde curl? Lacey twirled her hair. Yes, it was definitely blonde. She looked around, trying to see if she could find a mirror or a window, but nothing seemed to be in sight.

Before she had time to panic, she saw that she wasn't alone.

You've sure done it this time, Milo.

Getting up from where he (probably?) had been unconscious for quite some time, Milo felt his limbs tense and tired. Stretching, he tried looking around, only to realize he only had one contact in.

However, where he expected to find the pocket of his faded and time-worn hoodie, he found a long, navy blue trench coat, like something worn by a deep sea fisherman. In fact, looking at the other things he had on, these all looked quite fisherman-esque.

"Now why would I be wearing grandpa Anders' old work outfit?" Milo asked, looking around for a sign of where he might be.

Yet something was off about everything. Not just the clothing, but ground under him, and the buildings around him, and the sky above him. Even the name of his grandfather felt...off.

Wait a moment, he thought. I don't have a grandfather Anders.

Still perplexed by these thoughts, Milo started walking in a random direction (felt appropriate, given how random everything else was at this time). He walked for what seemed to be a few minutes, before trying to get his bearings again. The buildings around him looked like nothing he had previously seen in a book, movie or video game, yet to him they seemed like they've always been around. Somewhere at least.

Was I going to school? No, school's closed because of the murders. Not that I minded. Some of those idiots deserved it. Was I in my room? At the library? No and no. His thoughts continued racing for quite some time as he walked on, the streets eerily, almost overbearingly quiet and empty.

Turning a corner into what might have been considered an alleyway in any other city, that suddenly changed. Before him, a few meters away he guessed, stood a bent-over woman, dressed just like his grandmother had been in the old family photos, back when everything Milo knew and understood was "normal".

Walking forward cautiously (he was, after all, dressed like a fisherman, and to his mind smelled like one too), he risked speaking a greeting. But the name that he gave was not any he had ever used before.

"Hello, I am Elliott. Pleased to meet someone else here."

When Stephanie opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar city. The first thing that she noticed was how silent this city was, save for the whir of machinery in the distance. It wasn't anything like a city was supposed to be. Cities were supposed to feel alive. You were supposed to feel like you were a tiny part of something much greater when you were cutting through familiar, dark alleyways.

She unsteadily got to her feet.

This alleyway wasn't familiar, but it certainly was dark. And it wasn't all that unoccupied, either. As Stephanie collected herself in the shadows, she heard someone speak. The voice - like the rest of this place - wasn't one that she heard before. That put the theory of someone wanting to get revenge on her father to rest; she could find comfort in that.

She let out a quiet sigh.

She shouldn't have taken the shortcut. She shouldn't have taken the shortcut on tonight of all nights - not when she was so convinced that she had just seen a dead boy up on the stage.

At her table.

She ran her fingers through her hair. It was an old habit she had gotten from Jack. She should have said something to him. She should have done something. But she was pretty sure he was with Harley of all people, and Stephanie wasn't ready to risk an encounter with someone like her.

She paused.

The noise that she had been so quick to ignore suddenly registered. Everything suddenly registered. She wasn't herself. Her body was tall and unfamiliar. Muscular and unfamiliar. She had been trying to work out, but she was far from this muscular. She must have been at least six feet of muscles now.

And her hair was shorter, too.

She glanced down.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She found herself staring an plain, gray t-shirt. A worn brown leather jacket. Faded jeans.

She knew exactly who she was. She recognized the outfit. She was the boy she thought had died six months - a boy who shouldn't have ever been able to grow up this fast. She didn't have a mirror, but she knew what she would have seen if she looked into it. A sixteen year old boy, with jet black hair, green eyes that should have been brown, and a little white tuft of hair in the very front.

Who could have done this? This wasn't a nightmare, and it wasn't like there was someone running around who could swap bodies. She knew the darker side to her city.

This didn't make any sense.

Stephanie took a shaky breath.

...If she was going to figure out what was going on, she'd have to face this situation head-on. She wasn't going to get answers if she didn't.

She took a step out of the shadows.

"Hi," she said, in a voice that should have never belonged to her.

Near Lacey were two men. One looked and smelled like a fisherman and had just introduced himself as Elliott. The other had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and someone muscular. If not for a white tuft of hair, he'd otherwise be unassuming.

Lacey took off the stockings she was wearing before she introduced herself to them. God, that was so much better. The only thing was that she didn't have a place to put them. Nearest trash can she'd dispose of them. How did women ever wear things like this? As she looked at the men, she had a sinking feeling of what she would see if she had mirror to look into. She had no idea how it was possible, but she knew.

She briefly had considered the possibility Mathis had drugged her, but all they'd had was wine and cheese earlier in the night. She'd been fine. And if he'd wanted to drug her, why would he have taken her home?

"I'm-" Lacey felt a lump in her throat. She tried to say her name but the words wouldn't come. And then, after opening her mouth to try and say it a few times, she finally spoke. "I'm Anna."

What?

No, she wasn't. She was Lacey. Lacey Whitman. And somehow she was in the body of her long dead great grandmother. And from the looks of it, her at fifteen. And she had just given her name rather than her own.

Lacey felt a lump in her throat.

The noise woke Kaya up.

She was used to the sound of nothing but her own thoughts, and only woke up to the nearby shuffles of others in the hallway or screams of newcomers. But this was different: it was familiar, yet foreign, like it was at the tip of her tongue. The machinery whirred in the distance, leaves rustled while melting into the background, water noisily sloshed through the air, and wind howled and tugged on her skin, begging her to wake up.

And then she did, and then she realized... she was outside. Slowly sitting up, Kaya looked around: she was sitting on a vividly green lawn with trees and flowering bushes organized neatly into a line, and what appeared to be a decorative water fountain was nearby.

Confusion and shock hit all at once. How did she get here? Was this real? Where was she? Without wasting another second, Kaya stood up and -- wait, were these jeans? What was she wearing?

And then she noticed it.

Her hands. Her nails.

The long nails. The nailpolish. The soft pink color and white tips. The dotted white shaped in the middle.

No... It can't be... Can it?

She rushed over to the water fountain to look at her reflection in the rippling water and stared. A second passed, and then another. She smirked and then laughed out loud, only stopping to collect her breath. It's true then, she thought. I'm her.

Kaya investigated her body: the stupid perfect hair, smile, face, outfit, everything. She sloshed the water away in anoyance to send her reflection away in ripples, then turned around and started walking down the pathway. How did she get here and why is she her? Maybe this was a test... or maybe this was freedom.

Didn't matter, she is here now and that is all that matters. Maybe this is a dream, or maybe this is a test, or maybe this is a giant trip from the new drugs she must have taken recently. Either way, she will enjoy this.

Kaya couldn't help but release a sinister smile as she left the fountain and sauntered down the park with every stride becoming more and more like her. It seems like something or someone wants her to be her, so hell, she'll do exactly that.

Yesterday, she was Kaya. Today, she is Saya.

As she continued walking, she noticed a tall, dark-haired man sitting on the bench off in the distance, and she couldn't help but feel a bit of panic coming up at the back of her throat. For whatever reason, she didn't realize there would be other people around. Saya would slobber all over him immediately, but something in her hesitated because this was all too odd, even in this a marvelous fantasy.

No, she needed more time. More time to think and layout a plan... She just woke up; she can't do this right now!

Hoping he didn't see her, Kaya turned around and quickly started walking away, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Things felt different, and James knew that he was in another world again - but it was more than just being in a different place. Sleepily, his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at a body that was not his own, nor one he recognized.

He looked like he was in modern earth clothes, which told him he was on a world similar to earth, and again - as always - very far from home. In a strange way, though, it felt nice. To be away again. His life had become a monotonous cycle, living alone in the wilderness. He would wake up, hunt, gather food, gather firewood, take care of his horse, and go back to sleep. Loneliness was his only other companion beside Shadow, who was a gentle steed, but not much for conversation.

Experiences like this, as annoying as they were, and as scary as they could be, were at least something different.

He took in a deep breath.

He was trying to be positive about it.

So, he was in a stranger's body. Generally, that was a bad thing, but for once, it meant that James had every excuse not to be himself, and no reason to worry that anyone might recognize him or care who he was. Sometimes, it was nice - when he would wake up and find friends around - but sometimes, anonymity was a gift. And it was one he sorely missed.

He sat up straight on the bench he'd woken up on, and stretched out his legs.

Being in someone else's healthy body felt like a dream. All of his aches and pains were gone. He felt young again.

A small smile spread across his face as he looked around the park and caught sight of a woman approaching. His smile faded in confusion as she quickly turned on her heels and started to speed away.

It was then that he realized there was no one else in the park except him and her. Any other signs of life - and any other people - were absent.

He knew better than to just let her walk away. She was probably in the same boat as he was, but he didn't have to let her know that he knew that.

He stood up and waved his hand, completely ignoring the shock in the back of his mind at how this body moved so differently than his actual one.

"Excuse me - miss? Where are you going?" he called out.

Even before she tried introducing herself, Stephanie got a pit in her stomach.

Anna had stumbled over her words. She hadn't be able to get a name out on her first few tries, and looked uncomfortable when her name finally slipped out. She had also taken off her stockings. Stephanie could definitely understand the discomfort, but it seemed...odd to do that now. She was putting together clues to a puzzle in her head, and she wasn't sure she liked the picture that was forming.

But this was kind of normal for her. She had met all kinds of people before. While a strange body-swapping incident would likely be high up on her list of strange things that had happened in her life, it honestly wasn't the strangest.

But the pit refused to go away.

"I'm..." she started to say, but she felt the same resistance that Anna must have felt just a few moments ago. She wanted to say her name. She was trying to say her name. But the name just didn't come out. When one finally did come out, she felt like it was a sign that she had been right back during karaoke. "...Jason."

She took a deep breath.

Her first name didn't work, but maybe she could get a nickname out instead. It was a silly little hope, but she didn't know the rules of this game yet. She had to keep pushing them until she figured them out.

"...But I usually go by..." Another pause. "...Jay."

That hadn't worked at all.

She took a deep breath again.

"I know this might sound a little strange," she admitted, "but I didn't want to say that. That's not really my name. And I don't really look like this. I don't know who or what did this, but I'm guessing it also brought me here to..."

She glanced around the alleyway.

"...Wherever here is."

No way in hell was she calling this man Jay.

Jason it was.

"Me too," Lacey said. "It sounds crazy, but I'm in great grandmother's body right now. My name's not Anna. I don't know why I said that. It's..."

Again, she couldn't say her name. What was going on?

"I have no idea where we are," she said. "Do you?"

Kaya stopped in her tracks, feeling a twinge of annoyance that she was not able to recollect her thoughts elsewhere. Ah well, time to improvise...

She paused then slowly turned around, offering a sheepish but alarmed smile. "Oh hey... Sorry about that, it's just..." She trailed off, fidgeting with her hands. "...I don't really know you?" Her eyes widened and her hands flew in front of her as if they were apologizing for her words. "B-But! I don't really know where I am, either."

As a final touch, she looked down on the floor then up at the man. "I guess you can say I'm lost..."

She probably woke up in a random city, right? Still, her gut screamed that something was off; the city was too quiet and empty. She had no idea what kind of situation she was in, but it was probably best to hold off information that could be red flags to complete strangers.

Queenie was all too aware of her surroundings before she even opened her eyes. Concrete, city street, the distant sound of voices, a rather empty area of the city, the smell of fresh air mixed with cut grass, and that unique, nearly indescribable scent that seemed to linger in every alley Queenie woke up in without nearly enough memory of how she got there.

She opened her eyes and got to her feet. Or, she thought she got to her feet. The ground still looked too close, everything else felt too tall and...What the fu....

White button-up. Black jeans. Something embedded in the seam on the jeans at the thigh.

She hesitated to figure out what that thing was. She knew who these clothes belonged to.

On the other hand, know your assets.

Queenie dug a nail under the seam and parted the stiff plastic seal that kept the little pocket closed. The little thing inside slid out without a problem, and Queenie held it up to her face.

It was a clear capsule, filled with some kind of gel, or liquid. The walls were flexible, but they didn't seem to want to break. What that gel actually was was anyone's guess. Probably something deeply unpleasant.

Queenie took a step and noticed with the shift of the fabric that something was strapped to her ankle as well. She'd figure that one out later. It was probably something only the little brat whose....

She froze.

Looked down.

Her hands....the clothes....

She reached up to touch her hair. Her touch met silky, straight strands tied back in two little bunches at the back of her head. Light as a feather. Queenie almost screamed.

Her heart thudded against her chest and she couldn't decide if it was panic or rage that fueled it. She knew what was going on now. Another world. A new string-pulling puppetmaster with a sick sense of humor.

She shoved it down. Everything. All of these stupid little emotions got shoved into their assorted little cages. Her mind went quiet. She focused on the situation at hand.

Voices. People. Probably the companions chosen for her by this situation's little puppet master. They'd probably also be in the wrong bodies. People they knew? People they were related to?

She took a deep breath.

She could work with this.

She went toward the sound of voices.

It's fine. This is fine. I can-

She froze.

That girl. That stupid little girl. What was her name again? Adaline....Addy....Abby...no....Ann....Anna.

Anna.

Queenie's mouth - Briar's mouth - opened, but the words clogged up in her throat. She closed her mouth.

James smiled and bowed his head.

"Looks like we're in the same boat. Sorry if I scared you earlier."

He held his hands in front of him with his palms forward and fanned them to the sides before resting one hand in his pocket and extending the other out for a handshake.

"You can call me Jacob. I don't normally approach strangers, but - well - there doesn't seem to be anyone else around, which is... odd."

"That's okay!" Kaya exclaimed, smiling while walking over to gently accept Jacob's handshake. "You caught me off guard since I haven't seen anyone either."

He insinuated that he only approached her because no one else was around, so perhaps they were in the same situation. Odd... just two lost strangers in the park.

"I'm Saya," she said after letting go. The handshake was firm despite her wimpy grip, but it was to be expected from someone of his stature. "Yeah, something about this place seems... off. Do you come here often?"

Where here was, she didn't know—but maybe he did.

James laughed and slid his hand into his jacket pocket.

"It's my first time here," he said. "I don't usually get out much."

He looked down the pathway that led out of the park and into the streets. Saya seemed placid enough, but he was sure there were other people here in the same boat, and they needed to find them.

"Would you like to walk with me for a bit?" he asked, starting off - slowly - down the path, towards the main road. "Maybe we can get un-lost together. I'm sure we can find a map or someone who knows there way around here with a little looking."