The Advanced Writer's Club

[Chickenpaste]

Hmm... How would the doctor get into prison in the first place?

[a_bowtie]

Hmm... How would the doctor get into prison in the first place?

well, he's quiet paranoid of certain things...
i can't fully explain it based on CS's rules, but... its bad .A.

[Chickenpaste]

Okay, then. :3 It sounds very intriguing and it looks like you could fit in several emotional scenes and an array of interesting characters. Write it and I'll read it!

[Stablestar]

CODE: SELECT ALL
Username: stablestar
Nickname: star
Writing Preferences (Poet, Novelist, roleplayer...): role player
Example (Can be anything; must be a good length): Kizzy sat still in front of her poster of Bulbasuar that was plastered on her wall. A small bark awoke her thoughts and Gary's Eevee slipped through the window. "where's Gary?" Kizzy mumbled as she turned and hugged her knees. Eevee smiled and gave a slobbery lick to blonde trainer's cheek. A strong knock hit hard on the door, the young girl got into a panic and quickly stood up and threw a blanket over Eevee . "Come in!" she shouted as she turned on the tv and acted casual. The squeaky door cracked open and Gary's head slipped through the crack. "Hey, Kizzy! How's it going?" His annoying voice calmly spoke. "oh it's only you, ha, well come out Eevee." she said relieved, Gary's Pokemon snuggled out from beneath the blanket.  Gary slipped in through the door and closed it silently behind him. "it seems as though you still have eevee, what happened to squirtle?" she asked as she turned off the tv so all her attention would be on Gary. The young boy hadn't been home sense his journey started. He was now was the champion and had came to celebrate with his family while Gary was collecting badges, the Oak family adopted Kizzy from the orphanage. She had been a great help to the family and didnt ask for much. She ate all the food on her plate,  listened to every command and never left the house without asking. She was a very obedient child but when she heard about Gary all she wanted was to see him in person. Every day they would video chat but he wouldn't tell her anything about his Pokemon. They were a secret for when they met in person and today was that day. You would think she be more excited but  she was the kind of person who stayed quiet and showed no emotion.  Gary motioned her closer and whispered," who are you gonna choose? You better know, it's a really big deal!"  Kizzy stared in silent, "what?" she was clueless as she walked forward. The spikey haired boy reached and straightened her head by her chin. "your first Pokemon, It has to be the only thing on your mind, right?" she straightened her body tall and showed a guilty face," well, yes, I was thinking about Bulbasuar, you know vines and leaves!" she motioned her hands in a attacking pose. Gary let go of her looked down at his feet, "you have to take this seriously!!! Why don't you come on a walk with me and I can show you the beauty of pokemon!"

Here is another one.
The cool air conditioning of the lab blew around cyber's long fur as she paced around in small cage. Her eyes scattered the room looking for a way out but nothing clicked. The eevee's long tail swayed across the floor as she waddled, her brown eyes gleamed with tears. The steel bars of the cage surrounded her and made her anxiety rise, her breath was scraggly from the medicine she had taken about five minutes ago. It caused her to breath in a weird form which could stop her from breathing any minute now. The brown fuzzy Pokemon stopped walking and noticed a lucardio practicing battle moss on his cage. The lucardio had a ball of blue energy and threw it at a steel bar. Cyber watched as the cage was dented, " that's focus blast!!! I remember it when I was wild and some strange Pokemon used it on me, thank goodness I dodged it!!!" laughed the long haired fox like creature. The eevee became silent when something pawed at her tail, she looked over her shoulder to see a eevee that had managed to slide its paw out of his own cage and into cyber's and clawed at her tail. "I'm Moon, you are?" whispered her new companion as he stood up and banged his cage against cyber's. Her cage hit the floor on its side which caused hundreds of pairs of eyes to stare at her and made the fighting type lucardio to stop battling his own cage. Cyber backed up till her tail hit the end of the cage, she smiled big to blue human like Pokemon.  He was surprised by her actions and smiled back, he sat down with his legs crossed criss cross applesauce. Moon's still voice repeated  "what's your name?" 
Links to stories / roleplays: foxpawforever on warriorncatrpg.com
Other: please accept

[Lolli ∞ Kitten]

Username: Kitten of Lolli ∞ Kitten.
Nickname: Just Kitten, thanks. c:
Writing Preferences (Poet, Novelist, roleplayer...): Novelist/Literate roleplayer.
Example (Can be anything; must be a good length): This is an excerpt from a current novel I'm writing:

The old woman walked slowly toward the familiar slab of marble, the stone that was the marker to her dead husband's final resting place. It was so hard to look at. Ten years had passed since he had been ripped away from her life, but it wasn't enough time for her to accept it. Even so, she knew the stone like the back of her hand and she knew what lie beneath it.

Everyone told her that she was being ridiculous, visiting him every Saturday morning, talking to him and confiding her fears in him, but they didn't understand. There was no way they would ever be able to understand how much he had meant to her, how much she loved him. They couldn't understand that, to her, he was still alive. She couldn't admit that he was dead, that she would never hear his soft and reassuring voice ever again. If she admitted that to herself, then he would truly be gone. And there was no doubt in her mind that that would kill her.

So she, every Saturday morning without fail, would walk to the graveyard with a blanket and a picnic basket with all of his favorite foods. She would spread out the blanket and sit herself down upon it, opening the picnic basket and taking out all of the items inside as well as the small red and white checkered handkerchief. She lifted it up to her nose and inhaled deeply.

The handkerchief had been Charlie's (Charlie was the name of her late husband) favorite. He took it everywhere he went. Over the years, it had picked up his scent, a mixture of chocolate, his favorite food, and mint. The minty smell came from his dental floss. A little quirk of his was his excessive need to floss. Charlie was the type of man who was attracted to a woman with a fresh-smelling mouth. He couldn't handle the odor of someone who, say, hadn't brushed their teeth in the morning, so he always had floss on him and flossed after every meal.

Smiling at the fond memory, the old woman returned the handkerchief to its original place and fussed over the other food items: a jar of blueberry jam; a loaf of whole wheat bread; a half-eaten bar of chocolate from her last visit; a bottle of clean water; a sandwich, no mayonnaise, made of ham and cheese; and a thermos full of hot tea. She had both water and tea because she used the water on the daisies (Charlie's favorite flowers) she had planted near his headstone. They made the entire event less gloomy, so she always made sure to water them and keep them alive and beautiful.

She picked up the ham sandwich, both her and Charlie's favorite type of sandwich, and took a bite. It was funny how much she and Charlie had in common, really. Most of their favorite foods were the same, not to mention their favorite places, songs, people, etcetera. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. It helped that he was very romantic. He always knew how to make her feel beautiful and special, the only person he had eyes for. And it didn't hurt that he was rather attractive.

The old woman quickly finished the remainder of her meal. The jam she saved for last, spreading it on the pieces of bread and eating much more slowly, savoring the taste. Blueberry jam on whole wheat bread was her comfort food, the food she could eat all day long for the rest of her life. It was delicious.

As she finished up her second piece of bread she began to feel a little full. The waistband of her skirt was starting to become uncomfortable. She packed all the remaining food and all of the trash back up into the picnic basket, making sure to pack everything tightly enough so that nothing would spill and ruin the basket. She spread out the wrinkles in the blanket, enjoying the feel of the soft, worn fabric under her fingertips. It was very relaxing to finger the cloth, to feel the difference between different parts of the cloth, some more worn out than others.

Finally came her favorite part of the day. After she had finished eating, she always reserved some time to simply talk to Charlie, talk like he could hear what she was saying. She knew deep down that he couldn't hear her, but she talked to soothe the loneliness. He was her best friend, the one she confided all her secrets in, and that didn't stop after his death.

"Hi Charlie. It's me, Rose. Did you miss me? I miss you," the widow Rose Williams began, her voice breaking. "It's been a week, but I'm here, like always. I'll always be here, every Saturday of every week. That's not going to stop, no matter what anyone tells me.

"You remember my cousin Laura, right? She's always been sympathetic, one of the only people who understood why I came here every week to talk to you. But today she finally snapped and told me that I was just being clingy and I should let you go. She was the last person who actually understood- her husband had died a few years before you did. Maybe they weren't as close as we were, maybe she didn't love her husband as much as I loved you. It's so hard to keep strong.

"They don't understand. They think I'm stupid. But they don't realize that I love you. I love you more than I could ever love anything or anyone else. You were my everything. And now that you're physically gone- you'll never be gone from my heart, though- I just can't lose what little of you I have left. But everyone thinks I'm just a crazy old woman, trying to hold onto something that's already gone. It doesn't matter what I tell them, they don't believe me. I love you so much, but nobody seems to understand how much of my life I invested in caring for you.

"Anyway, that's enough about that. I love you to pieces but there's more I want to tell you about. You remember Eliza, that foolish woman who's always doing something she shouldn't be? Well, the rumor that has been spreading around town is that she cheated on her husband, Phil, once more. Honestly, I don't know why that poor man is still with her," she said, settling in for the few hours she knew she would be here, telling Charlie all that had happened in the past week as usual.

The hours flew by, Rose telling story after story to her late husband's headstone. When she finally ran out of tales to tell, she lay back on the blanket and crossed her arms over her stomach, gazing up at the sky. The sun had begun to set, something that made her very thankful. If it had still been midday, the sky would have been painful to look at, the sun blinding her. She had chosen a fine time to visit Charlie.

Suddenly a thought popped into her head. She sat up with a chuckled and folded her legs underneath her. "Charlie? Do you remember how we met? Oh, lord, that was a funny story. Not many people believed us when we told them about it. Crazy as it was, it was rather romantic. How did that start off?" she trailed off, mind racing back to the day her boyfriend, Mark Anderson, broke up with her.

Here's one of my roleplay posts:

Cato looked over at Clove, trying to judge her reactions to the tributes by examining her facial expressions. She thought the was good at hiding her emotions, but in situations like these, nobody could. When you were about to meet the people you would be killing (or would be killed by) in a week, you were bound to take notice of every detail and try to find their strengths and flaws. It was something everyone did when they saw the the other 23 people for the first time- nobody wanted to be killed. And when you were so focused on examining each and every tribute, your emotions played out on your face unrestricted. While Clove was looking at the other tributes, she seemed to pay attention to the tributes from one- as did he (they were the main competition as fellow careers)-, eleven, and twelve. He was rather surprised by the tribute pool as well. This one was rather different than the ones in years before, mainly because of eleven and twelve. Eleven, with the small girl of twelve, and other tribute, an enormous boy of seventeen or eighteen, was a bit of a twist. Eleven usually provided tributes of average, if not small, size and little strength. But this time, they had extremes from each end of the line. It was a little sad, though. The girl would most likely be one of the first killed, unfortunately. He would try to avoid killing her in the initial bloodbath, unless, of course, she got an eight or above in the individual showcases. That was unlikely though. The tributes from twelve were rather average, if not slightly more athletic than usual, but didn’t seem like too much trouble. The tributes from twelve rarely won, because they were so scrawny and under-nourished. The only reason they stood out was because of the girl volunteering. Volunteering rarely happened in districts that weren’t career-based. Most people were happy that someone else had been chosen, rather than them. Clove had the strongest reaction to the male from eleven- Cato was quite fearful as well-, fear taking over her whole body. Perhaps she hadn’t realized that there would be enormous competitors, as strong as the career tributes. Even though Cato was surprised the boy came from eleven, he had already mentally prepared himself months earlier when he had decided to volunteer.

Cato turned around due to a slight rustling, and found Peacock in an entirely new, bright outfit, announcing it was time for dinner. He had to try very hard to keep a straight face- she had some pink lipstick on her teeth. He stood up from the couch and walked to the dining room, remembering where it was from around an hour ago. When he entered the room, he was even more surprised than he had been when he first saw it: the dining room was lit up softly by candles on the table in golden (district two’s ‘color’) candlesticks. Placed in front of each chair was a crystal bowl full of an opaque pink-red color. It was quite pretty, but didn’t look very edible. Dale, already half-done with the bowl, noticed his hesitation and nodded at the soup. After he had swallowed the mouthful, Dale said, “Try it. It’s really quite good, as delicious as the color.” Cato raised an eyebrow, but decided to go along with it. Even though in the justice building he and Clove had picked the lock of the room they had been placed in, snuck around, eavesdropped, and eventually kicked down a heavy wooden door, it wasn’t like the soup would be poisoned or anything. There was no way! That was the reason why Cato pretended to have a bit of the soup, smiled and nodded enthusiastically, but didn’t touch it.

Unfortunately, his paranoia of being poisoned didn’t let up until the main course (a sumptuous meal of chicken, turkey, stuffing, and a delicious sauce), when he realized that they would have to go to too much trouble to kill them and then find another tribute when they were already on the train. On the other hand, life would be a living hell for him in the arena, then. But how could it not be? Anyway, that was to come later. Cato ate as much of the delicious meal as he could before he regrettably had to push it away. It was so sad, leaving all that food to go to waste. It should have been sent to one of the districts, to help them out. He scowled, imagining a picture of the food in a landfill, being burned by the peacekeepers. It was sick. The rest of the meal came and went pretty quickly with almost no dialogue. There was a steady stream of babble coming from Peacock about how lucky they were to have the experience to see the Capitol and enter the Hunger Games, but he didn’t count that as conversation- more like a radio broadcast. Something to listen to when you had extra time, but not something you could reply to.

Soon enough, the dinner had concluded, and Cato had some time to himself. He didn’t really know what to spend his time doing. He had already watched the tributes with Clove, thought about his strategy, and had dinner. Yet it was too early to go to bed. If only there was a training area... Actually, he didn’t know if there was. It couldn’t hurt to ask. He spent a while wandering through the halls of the train, looking for an Avox, Dale, or Peacock. They knew the train better than he did, and if there was a training arena anywhere, they were the ones who would know where. He finally came across Peacock, rapidly jabbering away on a small device in her hand. Cato was startled to find a response coming from it. It just looked like a metal box. He decided to ignore it, and tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around, startled, then relaxed when she saw it was him. “Hold on a moment, Maurice,” she said into the small device, and turned her attention to him. “Yes?” she asked, obviously feeling rather impatient. “Is there a ‘training’ arena anywhere? A place with a few knives, dummies, etcetera, where I could practice my combat skills?” he asked her. Peacock thought for a moment before shaking her head no. “Sorry. Nobody on the train is allowed to give any of the contestants a knife or any other weapon. I do believe you noticed the lack of knives at dinner- that was the reason why. The people who organized these events also took into account the fact that in most districts, unlike two, people do not want to volunteer, and the people chosen would most likely be so terrified they might decide to kill somebody- or themselves. It would be a pain to replace them at this time,” she said, answering the question surprisingly well. As Cato was about to leave, she winked at him, and finished her thought: “But, if you like, I think I could pull some strings. You seem quite level headed, and, because you were a volunteer, I don’t think anyone at the Capitol would think it out of the question. Anyway, the other tribute- Clove, I believe- already has two knives she can practice with, and those were not taken away from her by security. There’s an empty area in area 4C, as well. Hold on a moment.” Peacock walked away, leaving Cato behind her.

Cato stood for a moment, a little surprised, until he organized his thoughts. When he entered the Hunger Games, he hadn’t expected to have some time beforehand to practice and hone his skills under pressure- Cato was excellent with any weapon, but he hadn’t ever had to fight while in an incredibly stressful situation, where if he lost, he died. It was quite a bit of pressure to be put on a person. Thankfully, with this time on the train, he would be able to get some control of his emotions.

Links to stories / roleplays: I have way too many to link. xD And I don't like to post my stories on CS.
Other: I'm a member of the Semi-Literate & Literate Roleplayers Club here. c:

[indebted]

hey guys, would someone pm me? i sort of need help about a writing commission. ^^

[I'm Not The Only One]

Okay, then. :3 It sounds very intriguing and it looks like you could fit in several emotional scenes and an array of interesting characters. Write it and I'll read it!

Same here c:

[climbing{the}world]

I agree with Orca. and Chickenpaste on that one; draws me in! c;

[a_bowtie]

I'm glad you guys like the idea~ .u.
I'll try to start it as soon as I get home from a concert!

[Artesian]

Looks like I've changed my username!
Old username: Rose ;
New username: Rosemarrie
Club Number: 24

-- what is with my recent obsession with supernatural topics? Agh. I want to write a werewolf book terribly - and I also want to try my hand at not-so-sparkly vampires as well. FFFFF-
Why must the plots be so overdone in this genre? Jeez, I hope Dystopia doesn't start to get that way. I have no idea what I'd do then!
/rosefacedesk

I have an idea for sci-fi vampires, who can bend electromagnetic radiation (that's why they can't be seen in mirrors, and feel cold to the touch). If it strikes your fancy, and you come up with some sort of actual plot around that, I'd love to collaborate with you. :3