z

Young Writers Society


Only the Strong Survive (ch. 1- Angelo)



User avatar
82 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1493
Reviews: 82
Mon Nov 21, 2011 12:34 am
Renn says...



Spoiler! :
Okay, here I go, this WAS inspired by X-Men but no, it is not the same. I've been told this several times. Anyway, This is not my best written work but it is quite possibly my favorite. The story is told in four main perspectives, each going in order by chapters. There will be multiple interludes, explaining a different side of the tale. Read the novel cover thing if you'd like to understand anything that's going on. The names are difficult, sorry, but I can add on a pronunciation guide as I've already made one. Please review :) 'Like' if you like it.


I’ve been a part of the AAGN for seven years, ever since I (unwillingly) showed my true powers by sprouting my wings during a school play when I was nine. Most people don’t have such a convenient first experience, but I sure did, seeing as I was an angel in the play. But that is another story. Since I’ve been here so long I am one of the three leaders, and am one of the more respected seniors of the AAGN.

My name is Angelo Francesca and I moved here from LA to a secret mansion on the Oregonian side of the Gorge. The two century plus year old mansion was bequeathed to a man named Tulukaruk Clayes, who, like me, is an AAGN. This mansion used to be the universal headquarters of the AAGN, but over a hundred years ago the other sites and mansions were destroyed, leaving us the last remaining ‘temple’ for our kind, the last place we could train and be ourselves freely and without FBI sticking us with needles. This place was our salvation from the outside actually.

The AAGN needs no publicity. Tulukaruk makes sure of it, as he intends to keep us a secret society like his AAGN family had intended for their posterity and fellow kind.

Now this might be confusing, so I’ll explain the AAGN and who the AAGN are. Everyone in the mansion knows that our acronym is painfully bland, standing for the Association of Already Given Names. But we not to ever criticize or question it, Karuk would leave us covered in bruises if we do. I learned that the hard way. AAGNs are given to certain people- we don’t really know why or how we are chosen, not even Tulukaruk truly knows. But he will hint on the matter, saying that neither we nor our parents had a choice in the decision, that we were somehow assigned our names before birth. Originally, though, Karuk thinks we were used in some ancient war booga booga as an army way back when.

But really- who knows?

Most of us aren’t really super smart or anything like that. Well, some of us are- if our AAGNs tell us we are. But we do have certain… talents. And ninety nine percent of the time our talents erupt at a time when our emotions are at our personal limits, like a family member leaving, or a death in the family, or forgetting a line to your part in a play… or something like that, not that I’d know.

On the outside I look like any other sixteen year old guy- but if my experience says anything, or speaks for itself, then I look a little better. I have dark brown hair that I like to run some hair gel through haphazardly- it makes it look cooler by my standards. My eyes are brown as well, dark brown. Francesca, my last name, is Italian. Angelo, my AAGN name or more simply put, my first name, is Greek for ‘angel.’

There aren’t many kids born into AAGN names, but they come from all origins and meanings. And we are drawn to each other.

Me? As I mentioned, my name means angel. Since an AAGN practically foretells our life and our talents, mine would technically be considered angelic- all that and a bag of chips. Well, minus the halo, not really into the halo.

But enough about me, AAGN kids discover their powers between the ages of nine and eleven years old. Usually, that is, because there are always exceptions to rules. The more powerful your name is, the less likely you are to slip through the cracks. Most of the names in the mansion are useless: like this one girl named Sesi, her name means ‘snow’ in Inuit. Sesi can’t fashion a blizzard yet like she should, only a little bit of frost. But everyone is different, and she is one of the slower learners. Karuk’s theory is that some AAGN names are just not entirely compatible with certain human genes.

But she has time to fulfill her goal. Meanwhile, I am done with my duties and sessions for the day and am choosing to relax in my spot.

This was my spot, this crevice in the lowest roof of the guys’ side of the mansion. I’d never tell anyone, but I found the view from here and the mansion itself out of this world and utterly spectacular.

With cold, slate gray boulders reminiscent of Incan architecture on my back and supporting the slightly European Gothic roofing panels that I was lounging on, it was hard not to feel on top of the world. Whenever I was feeling off I’d fly here and run my fingers over the grainy stones or the dulled panels. Below me was a slightly inclined field of picturesquely green grass, dotted with a few ‘member grown’ trees and the slightest layer of pre-summer dew glinting in the evening sun which could be seen over the pines. If I could see beyond the elderly pine trees I would see both sides of the Gorge, a waterfall snaking down a weedy cliff, and the best possible view of the Columbian Gorge that a photographer would kill for. The river looked slow, dangerous and beautiful from my point like a giant languid python. I couldn’t help but feel insignificant here, but I wouldn’t let it bother me. I yawned.

A voice rose up from the field below the roofline, “Angelo.” And when I chose to ignore such voice it called again, “Angelo!” It was a guy’s voice, and unmistakably Leroy’s.

Sitting up, I tilted my head down to see Leroy standing beneath me. In the lighting his eyes looked a colder blue than usual, sending slight shivers snaking down my spine. His hair was hanging in his face like black rat tails, wet. He must’ve just come from the party that the water AAGNs had thrown. “What do you want kingly?”

Stubbornly Leroy shook his head slowly, distastefully, and waved me down with a flick of his wrist. He looked disdainful- or overconfident, it was difficult to tell with him.

I slid off the roofing panels slowly and joined Leroy with a knee jarring thud, not bothering to unfurl my wings for the short distance. After all, having wings rip through my shoulder blades and muscle and tendons hurts contrary to popular belief.

Most people are intimidated by me because my name’s meaning is a bit stronger than the majority of the other members’.

Leroy was not one of them. There are four possible reasons that I don’t: One could be that he was dating my ex-girlfriend and was trying to impress her despite her not being here, another could be that since his older stepbrother was a pain in the ass he was used to standing up to buff guys that were bigger than him. The third could be that he’s older than me. But the most likely option was that his own AAGN helped, Leroy’s name being French for king.

So he simply stood taller and said flatly, “They’ve located more, two more. It’s been a while, but they have nonetheless.”

“Great, little kids will fit in with us just great. We’ll have to go back to censoring ourselves again,” I said snidely, sarcasm dripping from my lips.

With a shake of his head Leroy interrupted me without losing my train of thought. “They are not nine years old. Two girls in the same high school, and they aren’t sisters.

Now I was interested: girls, high school, not sisters, right up my alley. Even so, I nodded uncertainly. It was uncommon to find two AAGNs in the same state, let alone the same high school. Even so, most are related. And why were we only finding out about them now? Powers always (okay, ninety nine percent of the time) activate at nine, the latest we’d ever found someone was twelve.

“Names, origins, meanings?” I asked. I’d been a member since I was nine, and the guys’ captain since I was fifteen, I knew what questions to ask.

“We don’t know much, one's a redhead.” Leroy began.

I interrupted with a laugh, “Guess you’re in luck.” It was common knowledge that Leroy had a definite thing for redheads.

Beneath his black hair, blue eyes stabbed out at me. God, if looks could kill I’d be a slaughtered pig. Leroy glared at me, as if his hair color preference had been a secret. He lowered his voice dangerously, slowing it down to word by word as if I wasn’t intelligent enough to keep up with the conversation. “One girl’s name is Taffia. The other’s name is Tikaani.”

I was beginning to lose interest; I have a short attention span- like a goldfish I’ve been told.

Leroy snapped his fingers in my face to get me back to attention. “Taffia is a Spanish name, and Tulukaruk is still decoding it. He is having some trouble with it. What he does know is that Tikaani is an Inuit name meaning wolf, apparently he had a cousin named the same so he knows for sure what it means.”

He’d barely finished speaking when I scoffed at the idea, irked. “Oh joy, another animal AAGN. You know how they are! Why can’t parents give them regular AAGN names?”

Leroy nodded blankly, like I wasn’t worth his time. “Don’t know what to tell you Angelo. One, they didn’t technically give them their names. Maguyuk is going to recruit them tomorrow.”

Mag- or Maguyuk- is the AAGN recruiter and announcer. He is laid back and supposedly charming and I’ve been told that he’s hot by the girls. That’s why he’s so good, apparently.

“I’m captain of the guys. They will take it up with Akua, she’ll handle them.” He’d officially lost my attention, so I began backing away from the mansion wall. About thirty feet away from the wall I started sprinting. When I was only three bounds away from turning into an angel-pancake, I leapt.

A tearing sound and the sense of snapping tendons and muscles were followed by huge angel wings erupting from my shoulder blades. After the initial pain reverberating through my back my thoughts became clear and I forced my wings to lift me to the part of the roof line that was mine. It may have hurt, but I heal like they think an angel would- inhumanly.

Some people ask what it feels like to have giant wings in your shoulder blades; it feels odd, like I’m on bungee cords. But the moment I realized I knew how to fly I didn’t care that it felt a little weird.

Unimpressed, Leroy rolled his eyes. “Rule seven; all new captains need to know about all-”

“-New arrivals.” I finished for him, bothered. It rubbed me the wrong way that Leroy knew more about the AAGN handbook than I did. This was because he’d been trying to get my position for a year now.

“I know Leroy, that’s a captains’ rule, and what do you know? I’m a captain. The girls all take it up with Akua, not me- hence ‘captain of the guys.’” I stretched my bright white feathered wings in a swirling motion. My wing span is a whopping eighteen feet, so I looked quite impressive.

Derision coated his words like frosting, topped by the cherry that was him rolling his eyes. He called up, “You’re a showoff Angelo!”

I stood up indignantly, my wings beating hard, blowing Leroy’s hair back and plastering his clothes to his frame and making him look like a walking pipe cleaner, the fuzzy kind.

He just turned and walked off, his AAGN showing through in his proud, kingly walk. Leroy was always a little too proud, but it wasn’t really his fault, AAGN’s practically make you who you will become- like clay in a mold.

I guess I deserved it, a little. I show off to impress mostly the girls, because girls dig the whole ‘angel’ thing. It’s something about the wings. But some guys need to be taken down a few pegs. That’s when my wing power helps.

Tiredly (I’d been training all day) I stretched my arms, my wings opening and folding behind me like arms as I lay down. I yawned and fell asleep with the almost summer, naturally sweet air blowing my gelled hair into my face.


My dreams are always different, never anything pertinent to the events of the day. But I’d never had one like this before.

The dream version of me walked along in a quiet high school hall, which personally seemed like an oxymoron.

My white wings were out and almost glowing, which never happened. I couldn’t make them go back into my shoulder blades like they usually do.

It had the same smell all schools do: bad cafeteria food, sweaty gym clothes, shoes, and home-ec food.

Nothing was happening, all quiet. Not only was it quiet, but I was suddenly very cold, eerily so. In the way that only dreams could muster up, a large white hound walked around the corner. The way it moved was too ethereal, gliding over the tiles, looking like molded fog and smoke.

The giant dog fixed me with empty black eyes, emotionless eyes that looked at me in a way I assumed was blindly. But that hound was definitely seeing me, no way he wasn’t. I felt like I wanted to be sick, like I needed to find the closest bathroom and puke up my lunch. But I didn’t, just felt that gnawing sick feeling at the edge of my stomach. I didn’t feel like I could break away from the white hound’s stare. The hound blinked twice, turned and padded away.

I followed it around the corner it had taken and looked for it, expecting to see the giant ghost hound’s face right by mine.

Instead of a surreal dog, I heard laughter. Laughter was echoing in the halls: the soft, high noise of shoe squeaking, a teen girl’s giggle, and the sound of a locker being opened.

I jogged off into the direction of the familiar sounds. The air was making dry, whispering sounds through my white wing feathers. After being temporarily turned around, I singled out the sounds again.

Rounding a corner, I saw her.

She was probably somewhere between sixteen and seventeen years old- like me. I tried not to feel lecherous when I thought that she curved in all the right places, because I couldn’t help but think that guys wouldn’t be making much eye contact around her- when she was facing you or walking away. The girl was dressed in name brand clothes of blue and green and jeans. Her hair was down past her shoulders and perfectly straight- and that color of honey brown that people dye their hair for, that perfect shine. As she turned I noticed the color of blue that her eyes were, a color of bright blue that glinted like broken glass. She was laughing at something she was reading, a magazine or something of the sorts. Not yet had she seen me, remaining blissfully unaware of the guy who was now besotted with her.

I hurriedly tried to fold my wings back instinctively, but they wouldn’t cooperate and discomfiture stained my visage.

Looking at her again I noticed that something about her was off. Her hair was almost glowing and her eyes could’ve been a summer swimming pool, being as bright a blue as they were. She had to be an AAGN.

“Hello,” was all she said, smiling amicably.

Gulping, I tried to force the red from my face and attempted to say ‘hi’. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. The red in my face couldn’t have been gone as my face was still hot.

With a tilt of her head, the girl looked at my wings. Her hair fell too perfectly. This girl was, without a doubt, an AAGN. “You have wings,” she observed, “like a bird.”

Gulping and attempting to slow my rapid heartbeat, I tried to say, “Actually, like an angel. See?” I beat my wings powerfully, sending her pristine hair back in perfect flat billows.

She smiled wryly, as if she knew something that I didn’t and it was terribly funny. But not the funny kind of funny, the mean kind of funny- the kind that practical jokes fit under. “You’re an angel,” she stated.

“No, but my name is Angelo.” I was finally regaining my cool, and I couldn’t have been in a better position to start taking control of the conversation.

She smiled brightly, half slyly and the other half sincere.


And I woke up with the rising moon shining upon me, sending me into a fritz as I tried to race the moon to get into the mansion before Tulukaruk did his rounds. But as I jumped off the roof I could’ve sworn that I saw the ghost hound next to the trees off in the first layer of the forest.
Last edited by Renn on Mon Jan 02, 2012 1:03 am, edited 2 times in total.
'Evil exists in all of us Torak. Some fight it. Some feed it. That is how it has always been.'

"There is always a choice," said Torak, and he backed off the cliff.
  





User avatar
304 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 22897
Reviews: 304
Mon Nov 21, 2011 5:16 am
barefootrunner says...



I really liked this! Great, gripping idea with lots of potential for development.
A few picks at typos and grammos:

Renn wrote:But we not to ever criticize or question it, Karuk would leave us covered in bruises if we do.

Perhaps "But we never criticised or questioned it -- Karuk would leave us covered in bruises if we did." would make the sentence flow better. Right now it's a mix of assumed tenses and I think you left out a verb in the first part.
Renn wrote:This place was our salvation from the outside actually.

Try a comma like this: "outside, actually".
Renn wrote:Well, minus the halo, not really into the halo.

I'm just quoting this because I like it. It made me smile :) The cool thing is, you're allowed to get away with slang and colloquialism, because you have Angelo helping you out on this -- you write what he says.

I'm sure there are some more errors, but I probably read straight over them because I couldn't wait to get to the end!
Great stuff!
"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts" - Einstein
  





User avatar
28 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 904
Reviews: 28
Tue Nov 22, 2011 8:41 pm
Confictura says...



I found a few things that bothered me.
but if my experience says anything, or speaks for itself, than I look a little better.

Then, not Than.

“I’m captain of the guys. They will take it up with Akua, she’ll handle them.” I’d officially lost my attention

I've never lost my own attention, but other's have lost my attention.
So, shouldn't Leroy have lost Angelo's attention? Or did you suddenly switch perspectives in the middle of a named chapter?

There's more, but I gotta go. Will complain more later ;)
Help, help! I'm being repressed!
  








Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
— Mark Twain