Young Writers Society

You have died an unnatural, unexpected death. You were too young, and you mourn for your family and friends, as they do to you. However, you have been given a second chance. Every 100 years, young, dead people between the ages of 10 - 25 from around the world compete in a competition know as the Ghost Games, where the winner will be brought back to life, and it would be as if they never died.

People are automatically entered if they eligible. The games have different rounds testing different skills, and they vary in difficultly based on experience and age, so that it may be fair. You are one of the contestants who have been selected to compete. You must compete tasks, but the final task may envolve you meeting the other competitors. Everyone has a weakness and strength.

This roleplay will mostly have the character being by themselves for most of the games since the Ghost Games are a solo thing, but in the end, the characters will probably meet. Meaning there won’t be a lot of interactions with other role players until the end. But who knows! Maybe there will be a plot twist.

General Rules: Please try to keep things PG. I know this involves death, but try not to make it too gory. And also no swearing in the RP or the OOC. Thanks!
And also don’t make your character perfect. While they do survive until the end, some of the rounds must be at least a challenge for them, so it’s not like they can just speed through and win.
The RP starts with introducing everyone's deaths.

Here is the character template! Remember that the ages must be between 10 - 25!

Code: Select all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Pronouns:[/b]
[b]Age When Died:[/b]
[b]Cause of Death:[/b]
[b]Skill of strength:[/b]
[b]Skill of weakness:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Anything else:[/b]


If you are going to be in this roleplay, please commit to it and do not just post one post. You can post whenever though, feel free to just jump in! You don't need to post in the OOC first. I REPEAT, YOU DON'T NEED TO RESERVE A SPOT YOU CAN JUST POST ANY TIME. EVEN RIGHT NOW!

Good luck!

Izabella Bryton would never have expected that her life would end so early.

But no one else did either. How could they? People can't predict the future. So when Izabella was in her parents car, driving home from an extremely long visit to a place, she even imagine what was about to happen.

It happened so quickly, she could barely even tell what was happening. Her dad was driving the car, and Izabella was in the shotgun seat. Her mom was in the back, and her toddler sister in her car seat in the back as well. They were driving normally, on a road on a cliff, looking out to the green mountains. Her father had turned around to say something quickly because he thought the road was straight. But he didn't realize that he would turn around for so long, and there was a curve in the road. not only that, but there was a massive truck that they were about to crash into. Her father swerved, and swerved a little too hard. The car flew off the cliff. Izabella had her seatbelt on, which might make you think she would have survived, but she had been playing with the button while her dad swerved to the right, so she accidentally pressed the button and released her seatbelt. This caused her to fly out of her seat, smash her head on the window, and die.

There was pain for a split second, and then...nothing. And it was truly nothing. There were no dreams, no sudden pangs of pain, nothing. Just death. Izabella couldn't even think.

But then she woke up. It was strange. She was in a chair, a very high-tech chair that was among other chairs in a really, really, long line. And these chairs were slowly moving forward in the line by themselves. Izabella looked around more. There was a jungle of grass and trees surrounding the line of chairs. There were many types of trees that normally wouldn't exist together. The roof was a glass dome that had sunlight streaming through the top.

She looked at her hands. She gasped as she saw that they were blue and slightly transparent just like the people in the chairs. She looked at her arms and legs, and saw that they too were transparent blue. What is going on? Am I dead? Izabella thought. There was a black seatbelt on her waist that didn't seem to have a place where she could remove it. When things couldn't get any weirder, she saw a tablet pop into her hands. It switched on and played a video with a voiceover speaking.

Welcome to DEAD, the Deceased Entity Assessment Department. You have been brought here because your time in the mortal world has passed, and your life has ended. You are currently in line to meet an agent who will direct you to your next location. Please press the yellow button on your seat if you would like to fall asleep so you will not have to wait. In this world, you do not need sleep, food, or use of the washroom. Your soul has been contained in this form so it may be easier to go about this day. The tablet has settings that allow you to customize your comfort in this chair. Enjoy your time at DEAD!

Izabella was in so much shock, she thought she might be sick. So I'm a ghost. Great. She thought.

Word count: 579

Life had started on a bright sunny night. It had ended in exactly the same way...or so Zybryn thought when the roller coaster car one of his irritating acquaintances had convinced him to ride in had jumped the rail and broken free of the other cars, to land on the ground several hundred feet from the rickety wooden structure it had started on. Part of him had been scared as he fell toward the ground. Part of him was relieved at the thought that it would bring a conclusion to the weary seventeen years he had spent struggling to survive. Then, all his thoughts suddenly vanished as an unspeakable pain shot through his body, followed by a overwhelming numbness.

However no more than twenty seconds after impact, Zybryn found himself sitting in a peculiar-looking seat. Grass and trees surrounded him.
I can't still be alive. I can't. But he had to be. The thought that he would suddenly awaken with all manner of bruises and broken bones soared through his weary mind, bringing on the first signs of panic.

He glanced down and noticed that his skin had changed to a sickly blue color and could be seen straight through to the chair he sat in. Zybryn screamed and tried to stand up, but a heavy belt across his waist prevented him from getting up. Some radio sounding voice played something loudly from beside him, but his distracted mind couldn't pay attention to what it was saying. He tried to scream for help, but he had no voice. The fear of waking up paralyzed in a hospital bed flashed through his mind again. He heard the strange tablet from beside him say something about sleep and pressing a yellow button. He reached over to it and smashed it with his wrist, hoping that even if it meant waking up in a hospital bed, that would be better than whatever insanity was going on right now...Sleep...that was the remedy for everything.

The tomato had betrayed her. Sandra lay on the floor, gasping for breath, half-eaten bits of a sandwich scattered around her. She tried to cough up the foul-tasting tomato slices she had just eaten, but it was too late. As she faded out of consciousness, Sandra's last thought was, This is such an embarrassing way to die.

All she had done was try to make a sandwich. She knew she tended to be a disaster in the kitchen, but surely a simple sandwich wasn't beyond her skills. Her parents had kindly left leftovers in the refrigerator, but Sandy was fourteen now. She had to prove she was independent sometime, no?

So she set herself to the task of making a sandwich. The bread was a bit crumbly, but it was fine. The cheese melted nicely. The tomato was a little squishy, and Sandy wasn't quite sure whether the color was right, but what was the worst that could happen? (She should've learned from the books she read. Whenever characters said that, the worst proceeded to happen.)

Once it was assembled, Sandy took a large bite of her sandwich. She chewed and swallowed. Belatedly, her taste buds realized that something wasn't quite right. Her eyes started to water, and Sandy clutched at her throat as she toppled to the floor. And that is how she died.

- - -

Sandy opened her eyes to find herself in a chair. Not just any chair-- the coolest-looking chair she'd ever seen. Sandy wondered whether anyone would mind if she took it apart to see how it worked. She knew she ought to have some kind of reaction to being dead, but perhaps she was still in shock... All Sandy could muster up was worry that her classmates would laugh at her funeral and sadness for her soon-to-be grieving parents. But even those thoughts felt far away from her reality in this strange place.

She realized it would probably be a good idea to look around. Sandy took in the line of chairs and trees. Was this the afterlife?

Before she could ponder that thought any longer, a tablet popped into her hands. Sandy listened to the video. "I don't need food anymore? Sweet! No more traitor tomatoes!" Sandy exclaimed. Then she gasped. There were people around her, weren't there?

She risked a peek at them to determine whether they'd overheard her. The person in front of her was sleeping, but the one ahead looked awake. Or perhaps asleep-- her eyes were open, but she wasn't moving. Sandy glanced behind her. "Um. Forget what you just heard about tomatoes, yeah?"

(433 words)

Hippos SUCKED. It was really complicated, and the whole death-thing involved a hamburger and Anthony's little brother Clyde, but generally it was the crazy evil hippos.

The whole thing started in the zoo. It was a Sunday morning, and Anthony's parents were taking their children out to the zoo for a special treat. Well, the special treat was for Clyde, because, clearly, Anthony was too old to stare at depressed animals for four hours straight. But, with a flip of a coin, Anthony's life ws on the road to over.[i] How much trouble could have been spared if the coin had landed on tails instead of heads? How many tears could have disappeared if everyone had gone to six flags instead?

So many. That is the answer.

So. Where we? Ah, yes. It was only about 11 in the morning, but it was already sweltering. Couples walked across the zoo with those miniature fan thingies, iced Pepsis, and huge rimmed hats. Clyde excitedly bounced around the zoo, excitedly yelling,
"Snakes! Zebras! Monkeys! FOXES! FLIES!"

The adults clapped happily for their child, while Anthony walked in the back, eating a hot dog. Eventually, the group got to the lion exhibit, right next to the hippo exhibit. the graveyard is on its way, don't worry... Clyde hoisted himself onto the fence, (against the zoo rules, clearly,) and yelled, "LIONS!!!" He excitedly whipped his hands around, knocking the hot dog out of Anthony's hands. It landed in the lion exhibit.

The lions perked up, before racing towards the hot dog, a new food for them. So many crowded towards the fence, it slammed down. Almost like a domino effect, the fence next door slammed down- and the hippos took the chance and raced out.

It was like a stampede of death- everyone was screaming, and, well, you can guess what happened next. I don't need to tell you the rest.
~~~~
Anthony woke up in a fancy chair. "Cool," he said, thinking how this was so much better than the boring old zoo. Suddenly, a tablet popped into his hands, nd after the video ended, Anthony stared blankly at the screen.

"We'll see who will be wishing they didn't go to the zoo." He said. He imagined his parent's guilty expressions.

If only they'd gone to the Six Flags that day.

Cameron takes a deep breath, instinctively touching his throat.

"Does that actually help my voice?" he mumbles to himself, fidgeting. Lots of people dont take classical voice seriously, but it actually takes a lot of practice. Sometimes, Cameron wishes that he actually picked a real instrument so that it would look a lot more impressive.

He feels something bump into him from behind.

"Whoops!" someone whispers, "Sorry! We`re just moving this piano. Can you move to the side a bit?"

Cameron takes a step to the side, staring at the big, black grand piano. It`s a magnificent instrument. After a moment, he goes back to thinking about whats about to happen. Hes very nervous, even though he knows hes practiced his song a lot. Maybe thats why hes nervous, because he cant afford to fail.

Alright, Im ready, he thinks, steeling himself.

He steps onto the stage, and the spotlight hits him in the face, and he has to squint his eyes.

Something else hits him in the face.

The piano that he didnt even know was there crashes down and Cameron is crushed.

----------

Cameron slowly opens his eyes, blinking.

"Where am I?" he looks around and notices that hes in a steel chair, and is trapped.

A tablet falls into his hands and gives him a long speech about whats going on.

What did I do to deserve this?

Izabella had spent the rest of her time looking at the place around her and discovering the place around her. She had come to think that the foliage around her was quite beautiful, as well as the beautiful smell of petrichor that filled the air.

The tablet that was in her hands had basically everything in the world. You could play all the games in the world that had been created, and watch all the movies that had been filmed. But Izabella's favorite part was that the tablet had something called Life Statistics, where you could learn things like, how many breaths you took, how many kind acts you did, or what was your greatest achievement. But there were also other, not-so-settling statistics, like how many times you broke a law, the worst ting you ever did, or how many times you said something hurtful to someone. But Izabella loved it anyway, because she had always wanted to know these things.

Before knew it, she had reached the front desk of DEAD. There was a large sign over it in silver that read, "Deceased Souls Check-In and Sorting." There were dozens of desks that had lines chairs leading up to each, where agents in formal clothing sat. Instead of being blue like the people in chairs, they were pink, though they were still see-through. Izabella supposed that indicated that they were one of the staff.

Izabella's tablet switched on, and played another video with a voiceover.

Welcome to the front desk! Here you will be assessed on your life on Earth, and on your good deeds and bad deeds. Where you go after this will be according to your religion that you took on Earth. Please keep in mind that our agents mean no bias, thay too were here just like you, to be sorted to your next locations. After checking in at the desk, you can move on from becoming a soul to deceased entity. Congrats!

Izabella had no idea why the voice had to say "congrats." What was congrats for? Dying? As if that was any good. Why would you want to be separated from your family? You would never see them again until they die? That is not a celebratory thing! I don't like this voiceover thing. It doesn't know anything. She thought.

Finally, her chair reached the desk of a plump lady with a navy blue blazer and flowery dress. She seemed tired. She took out something that looked like techy glass with a handle, that had a cable attaching to the monitor in front of her.

"Please scan your handprint here." the lady said. Izabella reached out her right hand and placed it flat on the scanner. After a few seconds, it beeped, and the lady took it away.

The lady read something that had appeared on her screen. "Izabella Bryton, female, age seventeen. Deed score is 46 percent good, 18 percent bad, 36 percent neutral. Personality: INFP. Greatest achievement is helping her father with something that would otherwise have made him lose his job. Worst thing ever done was making her mother cry."

Izabella's stomach tightened at that. She didn't like remembering that. Whenever she remembered it, it kept her awake at night. She always regretted it, she didn't think she could have done anything worse. It turned out she was right. But that was in the past. Her mother probably never thought about that. Right?

"Quite a number of good deeds here, Ms. Bryton," the agent said, raising her eyebrows. "Good thing they outweigh your bad deeds. Don't worry about your number of bad deeds. Everyone makes mistakes. At least you had less bad deeds than others I've seen..." She trailed off a little, but then shook her head and went back to reading what was on the screen.

"No notable achievements really... but that's fine. Now let's see where you'll be headed." She clicked on something with her mouse and her eyes lit up. "Of course! You'll be going to the Ghost Games! Congrats! This is such a rare chance, I'm sure you'll do great."

"Wait...the ghost what?" Izabella asked, confused.

"The Ghost Games! Don't worry, you'll get more information later. Have a good sleep though!" She said cheerfully. Her mood had changed completely.

"What? What are the Ghost Games? What do you mean? Why am I sleeping? Please tell me more!" Izabella frantically said.

"Nighty night!" the lady said, and she clicked on something on her computer, and Izabella feel asleep.

(745 words)

Aaron wasn't a particularly careful person. Some might even call him clumsy. But, like, he wasn't necessarily a risky type of person either. Skydiving? Nope, no thanks. Airplanes? Not his cup of tea. Roller coasters? Not since he was ten (and really, if he was going to die early, that should have been the time to do so). Jumping off bridges? Noooot even if one of his friends did so first. He never did diving, he never did scuba diving. He wouldn't say he was avoiding danger -- if that were the case, then he would had never started driving because good lord those things are dangerous -- he just didn't have an extreme interest in activities that could actively end his life.

Little did Aaron know that something as innocuous as a trampoline would be the thing to do him in.

Trampolines were fun! They were bouncy and advertised to kids and something to do when you didn't want to go to the gym. They were not, Aaron thought, deadly.

Or, so he thought.

See, he had a trampoline growing up, but as he got younger siblings, the trampoline kinda got worn out. So, his parents just bought a new trampoline, but this one was supposed to be a little safer for the younger kiddos to jump on. It was built into the ground with nets around the sides so whoever jumped wouldn't be as high off the ground and they couldn't actually fall off and hurt themselves. Simple and safe enough, right?

WRONG, apparently.

Aaron had gone through a particularly tough day at his new summer job and wanted to relax. But, nope, he had to be a secondary parent to his younger siblings after he got home because apparently his time wasn't as valuable as his parents, because he wasn't in school anymore. He was going to college in a couple of weeks! He was just trying to save up some money before he did so he could have some fun without stressing. But, nope, because he didn't have school, he was suddenly a free babysitter.

So, what started out as a pretty crappy day at work became an even worse day after work. Aaron had to do the dishes, he had to take out the trash, he had to cook for his younger siblings, he had to make sure they didn't kill themselves when he wasn't looking. And, apparently, toddlers and little kids LOVE trying to kill themselves. Aaron didn't know what that was about, but he did know that that night really cemented with him that he didn't want kids any time soon. It was hard enough to get them to sit still enough to just... like, let him have time to eat or relax, but getting them to go to sleep? That was a living nightmare.

But, it was finally done. And Aaron was finally, finally able to have some time to himself. Like, thirty minutes until his parents came home and started badgering him, but he was going to make the most of those thirty minutes. It had been storming for much of that day, which made his job as a lifeguard earlier in the day super stressful, but the rain had lessened enough that he was able to sit outside and enjoy the weather. It was nighttime and it had gotten to that point of the day where the heat had chilled enough where the world is cool and the air smelled of petrichor.

It was then that the trampoline called his name. He just needed to feel free again, just for a moment.

So, he took off his shoes and socks and walked over the wet grass to step into the trampoline. He jumped once, and then twice. He was starting to gain momentum now.

And then he slipped.

And then he fell, and his foot slid over to one of the springs, which had been apparently been installed improperly and was loose. His foot dislodged the spring and suddenly the entire trampoline bounced into itself, with him in the middle. The last thing he remembered was the smell of wet earth and the feeling of like a huge weighted blanket surrounding him.

And then he was sitting in a chair. At first, he thought it was a dream and he got knocked out by the trampoline, which would have been just his luck, but he looked down and saw the seat of the chair through him, and his heart started racing. Or... well, the sensation of it did, because he tried to clasp a hand to his chest and it almost went right through him. The boundaries of his skin were blurred and sometimes went through his shirt.

Okay, there was no way this was a dream. He didn't have the imagination to think up of something like this. Was he... dead?

A tablet appeared in his hand, phasing through his chest, which felt kind of funny. He pulled it out of him and looked at it.

It played a welcome video, like one of those cheesy training and orientation videos at his summer job. But this wasn't training, this was explaining that he was, in fact, dead.

Aaron's first thought? My mom's going to kill me.

A loudspeaker awakened Zybryn. His eyes instantly moved to a desk behind which a woman sat. Startled, Zybryn sat up straighter, but as he moved, he felt the belt crossing his chest tighten against him.

"I said place your hand here!" the lady exclaimed, pointing to an odd-looking monitor.

Zybryn frowned and glanced down at the screen. His eyes rose with confusion. "Am...am I in trouble?" he stuttered.

The woman rolled her eyes and pressed a button on the desk. A mechanical arm extended from a hole in the desk and proceeded toward Zybryn. "That remains to be seen," the woman announced brusquely.

Zybryn tried to veer to the left of his seat, but the hand reached his arm and clamped down on it. Zybryn tried to wrench his wrist free, but the mechanical arm forced it out toward the scanner. An additional finger popped out from the top and pushed Zybryn's hand down on the scanner. It beeped, and the mechanical arm released Zybryn's hand.

Zybryn swiftly retreated his arm and turned it over. No red marks appeared on the transparent skin, though he was certain that the arm had applied significant pressure to his hand to force it down against his will like he had. His eyes rose to the woman's face as she scanned the monitor.

"Let's see...Zybryn Arikki, male, age seventeen. Deed score of 67-pretty high," the woman commented with a glance at the teenager behind the desk.

"How do you know so much about me?" Zybryn questioned, silencing the rest of the statistics the woman rattled off.

"Personality ISFJ...notes say you're known to be incredibly stubborn. I believe that," the woman added. Her hands folded on the table. "But it seems you're natural empathy has provided you with more good deeds than bad. You're destination will be Ghost Games. Congratulations."

Zybryn frowned. "Ghost Games?" he repeated. "What...? What the heck is going on? Where am I? I thought I was going to die when I fell."

"There's a chance you may not need to," the woman replied, clicking another button and lifting her eyes to Zybryns. "In the meantime, sleep well."

Before Zybryn could protest further, he fell unconscious again.

The front desk quickly approached, and Sandy's eyes widened. This whole place seemed so efficient... definitely not what she had in mind when she thought of the afterlife. But to be honest, she hadn't really had many expectations about the afterlife.

A smiling man gestured for her to place her hand on a scanner. Sandy complied, watching as the line of light flicked up from the base of her palm to her fingertips.

"Well!" The man clicked around on the screen in front of him, and Sandy craned her neck in a futile attempt to read what it said. "Sandra Chung, female, fourteen. Deed score... 49 percent good, 23 percent bad, 28 percent neutral. Hm. Seems like you were the cause of some unfortunate accidents, but mainly due to carelessness, not malice." He scrolled down. Sandy wondered how they knew so much about her. Had cameras secretly been tracking everything she did during her life? Gosh, she hoped this guy didn't read out the more embarrassing incidents in her life.

"Personality: ISTP. Greatest achievement is fixing all the computers in her school after a ransomware attack hit them. Worst deed... ooh, yikes, giving food poisoning to a crowd of three hundred people."

Sandra grimaced. "Hey, cupcakes are surprisingly hard to bake."

The man held up his hands. "No judgement from me. Anyways, looks like you're going to the Ghost Games! Have fun!"

"The wha-"

The man clicked another button, and Sandy slumped against her chair, sound asleep.

"Next!" he called out cheerfully.