• Home

Young Writers Society


User avatar
27 Reviews

Gender: genderfluid
Points: 207
Reviews: 27
Fri Aug 11, 2023 7:42 pm
View Likes
KocoCoko says...

Terith, a land controlled by the Gods, is entering a new age. Destiny and fate have tied us down for centuries. Now, a sly fox spirit believes it’s time for a change.


You remember having a strange dream one night. You remember hearing tales from your parents about how fae, nymph and spirits would come to mortal beings in dreams, but those were just fairytales! Well… You used to think that. Then the fox began speaking to you in this soft realm of dreams. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I see a rebel in your soul," the fox spirit said, smirking. "Do you wish to kill the gods? Ah! No need to respond. We both know the answer."

You tried to speak, but found yourself unable to. When you looked at the fox again, he appeared to be a human man in a brown suit. He smirked at you, his canines sharp. “If you’re interested– Ah, who am I kidding, I know you are– meet me in the forest on the border of the Badlands. You have six days.”

You woke up with a start.

Terith is a land ruled by the Gods, and it has been since the beginning of time. In the end, there were twelve Gods who ruled over the human plain. Some were originally human, but now hold domain over an aspect of the human experience, while others have been around since the beginning of time. These Gods keep their hold over humanity by giving each human a soul related to them. Twelve Gods, twelve months.

Everyone is born with a soul, a portion of the Gods. It was a fact of life. Take September, for example.

September was the month of Creation. Those born in that month had the Soul of the Creation, naturally. No matter what, the compel to produce and create for the benefit of all. Some called it the Gods' will, others thought it was simply a magical draw, but it was no coincidence. Some found fulfillment in this by having a family, though many were artists.

The same could be said for May, the month of the Harmonics. Some found music as their way of harmony, others thought that counseling and bringing people together was harmony. Whatever it was, those with the Soul of the Harmonics would make and find harmony.

The Souls of Conquering were strong leaders and always found their way to being some sort of warrior. It was the way the world worked.

Until a fateful day in 1517.

Suddenly, there was one more day every four years.

Suddenly, a new God was born.

There were thousands of superstitions that followed poor Leap Day. Some simply thought no one could be born that day, it was impossible!

Except, that wasn’t the case. The myth goes when the leap year was first put in place, a new God had been born. A God with no home and nowhere to be. A constant state of wandering.

And so, the Souls of the Wandering were born. No place to plant their roots, no place to be. If they stayed in a place too long, they never did. Something always had them moving, changing, seeing new things. Many of them became historians and storytellers, while others struggled to make any sort of keep.

Many were scared to find out a new God could be born so recently. Others rejoiced. There was still a chance for them to ascend! There was a chance that the old Gods, who controlled every bit of their lives, could be challenged!

A certain sly fox agreed with that idea. He’s lived thousands of lives, lived for eight hundred years! Seeing the same destinies repeated over and over was getting quite dull. So, when he found the first Soul of Wandering born in 200 years, he saw an opportunity in them. Of course, he needed more than just one human soul to help him.

That’s where you come in…



The Soul of Enlightenment.

Those with this soul seek knowledge at all costs. Some things only the Gods should know, but the enlightened souls always push those boundaries to little success.


Soul of the Keeper

Those with this soul are known for their photographic and barely loosening memory. Many end up as recordkeepers or librarians of some kind. Sometimes, this flawless memory and retention can lead to madness and agony for the barer. Many find themselves keeping in to try and avoid too many new experiences, and thus memories that would be stored.


Soul of the Relentless

Those with this soul are goal-oriented to a deadly degree. They will do anything to get what they want, no matter who must be hurt in their chase. They end up feuding with those of the Determined Soul due to their similarities and difference in methods.


Soul of Harmony

Those with this soul are known for becoming musicians and peacemakers. This doesn't mean they are blessed with said skillset, only that they must find/create harmony in their lives.


Soul of Chaos

Those with this soul are often troublemakers and rulebreakers. They are truly inconsistent in their kind, but many end up becoming unpredictable outlaws and petty criminals due to their erratic mood and nature. Many hopeful parents actively plan their childbirth around avoiding this month.


Soul of the Heartless

Those with this soul tend to be unfeeling and uncaring of themselves and the world around them. It is rare for them to express emotion, but it's not surprising for them to end up feeling it at some point. Many still fear them and consider them highly likely to become criminals. Many hopeful parents actively plan their childbirth trying to avoid this month.


Soul of the Jubilant

Those with this soul feel joy and mania more than most will in this life. No matter the situation, these souls always seem to end up happy-go-lucky by the end of it. Often times, their eccentric and constant happiness to drive away others.


Soul of the Conquering

Those with this soul are known for being great leaders in whatever they do. Most kings, queens, and emperors are born in this month. They're often seen as forceful, but many listen to them despite this.


Soul of Creation

Those with this soul will forever be compelled to create. Whether that be life or art, it is up to the person (most times...) It's not uncommon for some to become unwilling parents or tortured artists over the need for creation this soul brings them.


Soul of Isolation

Those with this soul are destined to end up outcasted, homeless, and are often orphaned. Many hopeful parents actively plan their childbirth trying to avoid this month.


Soul of the Determined

Those with this soul are almost impossible to persuade off of something they put their mind to. Generally, they're seen as more gentle than those with the Relentless Soul and the two often rival due to their similarities.


Soul of the Decrepit

Those with this soul are born with or destined to be stricken with an illness or disability. Many who aren't born with such live a life of paranoia. Many hopeful parents actively plan their childbirth trying to avoid this month.

Leap Day

Soul of Wandering

There are very few with this soul. Those with this soul will forever wander the world, never knowing what the word "home" means. Many do not live long, as this compulsion is latent since birth. Many infants will crawl away from their parents seconds after they learn to, and they usually don't survive long after that.


Character Form:

Spoiler! :
Soul Type/Birthday:
Profession and Related Skills:
Opinion on the Gods?:

Reserved Souls

Unnamed Child, Soul of Wandering - @KocoCoko

Soul of Enlightenment - @Omni

Kidoleas Altareyd Krisly, Soul of the Keeper - @TinkerTwaggy

Soul of the Relentless - @Shady

Siris Lyangi, Soul of Harmony - @Spearmint

Soul of Chaos - @VioletSkies

Soul of the Heartless - @herbalhour

Petr Bain, Soul of the Jubilant - @Ari11

Soul of Conquering - @KateHardy

Soul of Creation - @WeepingWisteria

Soul of Isolation - @JazzElectrobass

Soul of the Determind -

Soul of the Decrepit - @winterwolf0100

You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
Last edited by KocoCoko on Tue Feb 20, 2024 4:11 pm, edited 7 times in total.
they/she or she/they

User avatar
27 Reviews

Gender: genderfluid
Points: 207
Reviews: 27
Tue Oct 31, 2023 9:11 pm
View Likes
KocoCoko says...

The Child and Jonah

The Badlands

For a place so omniously named, it was beautiful. Golden sunlight rained from the treetops and morning dew glistened on each flower and blade of grass. Nature flourished in a place untouched by mankind. The trees grew thousands of feet high and the leaves seemed so much bigger than anywhere the child had seen before. The only reason it was called the Badlands was because of how viciously the nymphs and spirits fought for this specific forest and refused colonization. The small camp Jonah and the child pitched was almost attacked the night before, if not for Jonah's own spirithood.

The Badlands was a retreat for any soulless being to escape the toilings and messes that humanity made. It thrived from the sheer amount of energy and magic that floated through the air.

The child was enthralled by the plump grass, running rivers, and trees to climb. Jonah found it absolutely boring. He loved humanity exactly for the reasons other spirits hated. They were messy, they were hypocrites, and they were so diverse! They always fought about something and it was always entertaining to watch them act as if they were important. They were simply another creature of Terith, yet they were filled with so much pride. It was remarkably fascinating. 

Jonah curled up on a log next to the fire pit, resting his head on his paws. "Child," he sighed, squinting his thin eyes at them, "Do you really want to be like a sopping wet cat when our guests arrive?"

His words fell on deaf ears. The child screeched as they kicked off their shoes and ran off the small incline, tucking themself in just in time for the splash. The fox rolled his eyes.

The child's head shot up from the water soon after, a wide smile on their face as they giggled. They swam back to the bank, crawling onto the sand with their wet sweater sticking to their chest. They laid on the grassy sand, grinning. 

The fox soon swung himself off the log, his legs turning human in an instant. Just like that, he became a human man with starkly orange hair and piercing yellow eyes. He always chose to wear a brown suit and glasses in this form. He liked being a tall human, too, so tall that he loomed over most others. Foxes weren't known for their height, after all.

"Do you know how long that'll take to dry? What if you had been swept by the river? Now there's sand on you, too!" he said, staring down at the child. He knelt down by the firepit and, now with human hands, began to spark another. "What is it with human children and testing their elder's patience?" he mused to himself.

The child stayed still in the sand, staring up at the treetops as golden sunlight hit their face. The child playfully waved their arms and fingers around. I don't care, the child signed.

"Obviously," the fox grumbled, though he smirked to himself once the fire had started. He set down the rocks beside him and extended his hand, beckoning the child over. "Now let me dry you. I've known humans far longer than you ever will, and I know they'll want you to appear somewhat presentable."

The child rolled onto their stomach, pouting. But I want to swim more!, they signed. 

The fox simply crossed his legs and waited for the child to approach. With no attention being given to them, the child relented their puffed up cheeks and sulked their way to the spirit. They dropped next to the fox's feet, crossing their arms and legs. You're no fun, the child signed.

"I know, I know," Jonah chuckled. Jonah swiped the sweater off the child and took their hair into his hands, ruffling the scalp before he put their head near the fire, waiting for it to warm. "I pity humans," he whispered to himself.

The child overheard easily. I know, they signed, I can tell.

"How awful must it be to not have the ability to simply shake the water off? Instead, it sets into your skin and silly need for clothes… Ah, I'll never understand what Vita-Anima was thinking when she made you." 

What was she thinking when she made you?, the child signed, their hands shaking nervously from being put so close to the flames.

"She didn't make me, but I feel no need to give you another history lesson," he said, his smirk unmoving. "Now, let's hope these guests hurry up. I'm so tired of waiting. Humans die so quickly," he said to himself, "You'd think they'd pick up the pace a bit! But no, they meander through their tiny little lives…"

The child ignored Jonah from then on. The child had suffered through many, many of his tangents on the hypocrisy of human life, they didn't have the will to hear another. Sometimes, all they could wonder is if they were included in his speeches.

I want to stay here, the child signed slowly. The habit of 'talking' to themself had been developed from listening to Jonah for hours. 

Jonah looked down at the child, the sly look on their face vanishing. Slowly, Jonah dressed the child once more. The fire and sun combined has dried the child just enough, though the sandy hair on their head still dripped occasionally, sending shivers down their neck. "Well," he started, patting the child's back, "We know that's not possible as of now."

The child nodded, sadly. 

"But soon it will be," he said. The child stared at Jonah with an eyebrow raised. Encouraging words from him only happened once in a full moon. "Soon, you'll be able to go wherever you wish, and even I won't be here to tell you to get out of the river."

The child's green eyes sparkled at the thought of being free from the soul tied to them.

"Now," Jonah said, his eyes thinning once more. He reached into the child's bag, handing them a stale piece of toast and a few berries. "Eat. Our friends should be here shortly."
they/she or she/they

User avatar
51 Reviews

Gender: Male
Points: 140
Reviews: 51
Wed Nov 01, 2023 5:08 am
View Likes
Ari11 says...

Petr rubbed his hands together in agitation. There were red marks in his skin, shaped like the chain he'd taken the last week to craft so lovingly. It had been his most beautiful creation yet; bloodred rubies circled with gold and set in silver so shiny he could see his face reflected in it. Until Megan so rudely yanked it away from him, that is.

He liked to think he put up a good fight, but in reality his manager was much bigger and stronger than him, snatching the chain away with ease. Now all he had was those red marks to remember it by.

Petr tapped the coin pouch around his neck, heavy with slivers of silver and gold. Megan had compensated greatly for his work, but he couldn't wear money. Sure, he could buy stuff to wear with it, but what was the fun in that? All the other jewelry he could purchase was cheap and dull in comparison to his works!

What a waste, what a waste, he thought to himself, swinging his apartment door open. He lived in a small room behind the shop where he could easily go back and forth from his bed to his tools. Petr tended to sleep in short two-hour intervals, getting just enough rest before springing back up to work on a new piece. He didn't dream very often because of this, which made the vision he'd had a few hours ago all the more peculiar.

He'd been sitting in a field somewhere near a river, lying in the grass and listening to the burbling of the stream when a fox appeared in front of him. It was a very cute fox, and being in the dreamy state that he was Petr immediately tried to pet it. The fox jumped away from his hand, giving him an indignant glare before opening its mouth and asking him a rather odd question:

Do you want to kill the gods?

Petr had to stop and think about that for a second. The fox said it with such serious conviction that he couldn't help but consider his answer.

Maybe? he answered after a pause. I mean, the gods aren't particularly helpful, are they? Perhaps the world would be better off without them.

The fox nodded in response, an approving sort of look on its face. Then it disappeared and Petr rose out of his dream with a sudden feeling of restlessness. It seemed he had just agreed to something, though he wasn't sure what. The fox had made a deal with him that he was now obliged to follow through with.

That was what he thought until common sense kicked in, at least.

It was just a dream, he told himself, shifting his necklaces around nervously. Just a weird, oddly specific dream...

But he couldn't help thinking that maybe there was something off about this particular vision. The fox seemed awfully real, and it wasn't completely unheard of for spirits to give messages to humans through dreams. Maybe the fox was a spirit? It wasn't completely out of the question.

He wants me to meet him at that place, Petr thought, closing the apartment door behind him. He could hear Megan in the distance, haggling with some customers over the price of his beautiful chain. The field, with the river. It's not far from here...

He wasn't sure how he knew that, but now he was certain. Grabbing a bag from the closet he scooped his most valuable possessions into it; several sets of cobalt robes, many pieces of jewelry, a canteen that he could fill at the river, and some soap(just in case). He also snatched some grilled pork that he'd been saving for lunch, wrapping it carefully in a cheesecloth before setting it in a separate pocket in his bag. Something told him he'd get hungry on the journey there.

This job isn't very rewarding, anyway, he reasoned as he packed his things. Megan was going to be mad, so so mad, but she couldn't yell at him if he just disappeared, right? It would be fine. This was all gonna be just fine. Don't think about what you're doing! Just follow the fox spirit, yup, follow him to the river...this isn't crazy at all, no sir, I am completely sane right now. Totally, completely sane.
No I'm not an alien, why you askin?

User avatar
237 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 22134
Reviews: 237
Thu Jan 11, 2024 4:40 am
View Likes
Spearmint says...

Siris Lyangi wanted to sing. For context, she sang like a cat yowling mixed with a wine glass shattering. But right now, that was perfect: it would certainly get rid of the frustrating customers crowding the Eureka Bakery.

Despite having a Soul of Harmony, Siris was bereft of musical talent, and she sounded like a Soul of the Decrepit imitating a Soul of Chaos whenever she attempted to carry a tune. She found harmony in baking perfectly symmetrical confections instead. Right now, she was quite tempted to shove one such confection in the face of the gentleman insisting that he'd found flies in the pie he'd bought last week.

"I assure you, sir, I personally check each baked good. And there are never--I repeat, never--any ingredients other than the high-quality ones we always use." Siris gritted her teeth and clenched her fists next to her apron, below the level of the counter.

"You call your ingredients high-quality?" The man spluttered. "Why, I could taste the commonness in that pie! I demand my money back." He seemed like an aristocrat, with his fine clothing and slight paunch. Soul of the Conquering, maybe. Figured.

Siris suppressed a sigh. "Sorry, sir, but I'll have to ask you to leave now. Next customer, please."

The people behind the man jostled him impatiently, some of them already beginning to point at the baked goods they were requesting. The gentleman stumbled a step, then righted himself and clutched the counter, his face contorted in a sneer. "You think you have any power in this city, baker?" He spat the word like it was an insult. "I won't be returning here, and if these people know what's good for them, they won't either." He cut a glare across the room with icy blue eyes, but was flatly ignored by the chattering crowd. The man huffed and stomped his way out of the doors.

Siris relaxed imperceptibly. She nodded at the next customer, a woman wearing a faded frock and carrying a beat-up woven basket.

"Yes, excuse me, could I trouble you to offer me a discount on this loaf of bread? You see, two of my children are sick and the others..." Siris's eyes started to glaze over.

"No discounts," she said firmly.

The woman pleaded with her for another minute, then shot her a dirty look and shoved some bread into her basket. She plunked a few coins on the counter then left in a huff.

"You won't have many customers left if you don't learn better sales techniques," a fox said in amusement.

Siris blinked. When had she gotten here? She whipped her head around. Grass waving slightly in the breeze. Trees with leafy limbs reaching down towards a clear river. This was decidedly not the Eureka Bakery.

"Who are you?" Siris said suspiciously. She scrutinized the russet fur of the fox and the mischievous glint in his eyes. Was this some kind of hallucination? She had no time for this; she had to get back to work.

The fox only smiled and showed sharp canines. "Do you wish to kill the gods?"

Siris paused. But before she could respond, the fox continued, "Ah! No need to respond. We both know the answer."

In the space of a moment, the fox had transformed into a tall human in a brown suit. "Meet me in the forest on the border of the Badlands. You have six days." He flashed another unsettling smile, then faded out, leaving Siris surrounded by clamoring customers once again.

Siris stayed frozen for a moment. What had just happened? She mindlessly handed out baked goods and collected payment as she analyzed what killing the gods would even mean. No more gods interfering in mortals' lives? No more Souls? A memory buzzed to the front of her brain, as incessant as a fly. Yarras. Her best friend. They'd left Siris eight years ago, and Siris had blamed it on their Soul of Isolation.

Like sugar cooling, Siris's resolve hardened. She'd leave for the forest at dawn tomorrow.
mint, she/her

.--. / ... ...- -.-. .-.. / - .--. ..- .- / .--- --- ...- .--- / .--- --- .--. .-- / .--. .--- .-.. / .--- -.-- .-.. .... -

If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
— Henry David Thoreau, "Walden"