daily ♔ 02.11.21

Ah yes, cakes, the soft, pleasant smelling, spongy, desirable and mouth-wateringly delicious piece of food. The simple elegance of the smell and feel of this particular nourishment can make a child's day, is every grandma's secret to that nice smile and baking talent. As anonymous once stated quite rightly, “romance is the icing, but love is the cake”. And to that, I cannot agree more to.

Cakes are an open source, and therefore for that reason are superior to all other foods and deserts. You could make the most elegant waltzing lady with her partner on ice with just the need of a baker's skill and, of course, a cake, or the most simple of Victorian Sponge's for a small birthday celebration. You could add cream, charms, icing, fondue, sprinkles, icing, marshmallows, basically anything to liven up the beauty of a cake, adding personality and love into your works. It is the prime food people go to when they're feeling down or upset about the loads of events happening in their lives, helping them understand what love and happiness is again, and you could find it almost anywhere, from elegant and posh bakeries, to bustling and busy nearby supermarkets.

Children, grown-ups, and the seniors of our global community alike, all can enjoy a fresh slice of cake to liven up their day. Popular with all races, genders and people, you could say cake is something of a harmonic symbol.

Oh my dearest cake, the countless of times you have appeased my taste buds and mind cannot be counted. You have a special place and desire in all of our throbbing hearts, bringing us the utmost joy upon all the times you have been offered at parties, restaurants, coffee shops and more. A world without you would be nothing colourful, the utmost dull and dreary, for you are the apple of my eye, and as I'm quite sure, for others too.

(my writing isn't quite as fresh a usual for I had to rush through this in the 5 minutes of free time I had xP but here it is!)

♔ Cabin: Mystery
♔ Word count: 320
♔ Time: 5 1/2 minutes

daily 11/2/21

My dear Brownies,
Every minute spent without you is a minute wasted. I constantly wonder what my life would be without you. Maybe we’d both be better off; I then wouldn’t have to spend every second thinking about you, longing for you, wishing for you. I wouldn’t have to wonder how you felt about me. You’d be happier, too, not living in fear of me.

Every variation of you is wonderful. Your corners, edges, center…all of it. Whether you’re chewy or crunchy or soft or some combination of both, you will never fail to bring a smile to my face. I look forward to seeing you whenever I do. I wish it could be more often.

As I said earlier, every minute without you is a minute wasted. Going by that logic, I’ve wasted nearly my entire life.

I can’t help but wonder if you ever miss me like I miss you. Never half as much, of course, but do you miss me at all?

I want to give you everything. It would all go well with you. Ice cream, chocolate, nuts, and almost everything else. It all fits you.

It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you. Well, maybe it hasn’t been all that long, but it’s been long enough that I’m missing you again. Wondering when I’ll next see you and, even though it’s not something I’ll know until it happens, looking forward to when you’re with me again. I wish I could confidently say that you feel the same way about me. Maybe then you’d willingly come to me, let me have you. Because I miss you, I miss you, I wish someone could just bring me to you. You keep me happy. You make me smile. I’m smiling now, as I write this, because of you.

It’s all bittersweet, though—unlike you, of course. But the thought of how long it could possibly be before I can have you is almost too much to bear.

Until we meet again, I will hold you in my heart. Thank you for the light you’ve brought into my world.

Yours,
Tandi

353 words

i poured my heart and soul into this askjdfhsgd-
and by “smiling” i really meant laughing really hard

nov 1st:
a little something i wrote.

the soft lighting of my room was just enough to illuminate the outline of the unopened envelope I had been given the day before, it was sealed with an indirectly designed, red wax seal. The design wax had kept me from opening sooner. Although the design was unfamiliar it gave me the feeling of home. The grape vines around the outer rim of the seal remind me of the vines we had back home, and the big blossoming cherry blossom tree in the center of the seal brought back memories of the time I had planted a one single cherry blossom seed in our backyard and before I knew it, it had grown to be the biggest tree in our backyard, every day i woke up to go to school I would see the outside I window as if it were guarding me from the outside world.

word count: 147
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nov 2nd daily:

The smell of chocolate chip cookies filled the air with a familiar smell of home, as they came out of the oven just browned on their edges with gooey chocolate chips. Each cookie is different, with no chocolate chips for my grandpa, one cookie which is more chocolate than cookie for me. The rest are for the dogs who live in the back alley they’ll take any kind so I give them grandpa plain cookies. Our next door neighbors Ms. and Mr.Clutch are kind enough to take any kind of cookie but i know they enjoy the enjoy the ones packed with chocolate better. The rest I bring to school for my teacher and my classmates, but I always make sure to give Amelia, my best friend 2 of the most packed chocolaty cookies that are left. After all everyone in my life has been given a cookie, I take the last cookie left in the batch, I walk up the windy hill with uncut grass and I go to the tombstone sitting under the huge maple tree, the grave belongs to my mother, when sit up their for a while i can feel her wrapping her warm hands around my shoulder and telling me the wildest tales from her childhood, of when she lived in the city. When I'm older I want to move to the big city, not forever but long enough to experience the wonders my mom told me about. She told me about how you can see everything happening in the world below when you live in the apartments, and the bustling of people all throughout the night makes you feel like you're never alone. I don’t know if I'll be to fulfill that dream though, grandpa need help on the farm, its are only source on income and it’s barely enough to get by.

word count: 310
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nov 3rd
some dramatic writing, lol

“Lieutenant Kalindi, multiple soldiers in the firebird fleet have been imprisoned inside the walls of the Kreel city of Dablash. The exact location of the fleet is unknown, I have assigned you the mission to pinpoint their location so that plans for a rescue mission can be organized. You may take two of your best soldiers to retrieve this information, be back by tomorrow, we have no time to waste.”

“Okay whatever that means.” I responded with a grunt, turning on my heel

“Lieutenant Kalindi, this is not a game.”

I looked back but didn’t respond, the last thing I heard in that room was the echoey clanking of my boots on the marble floor. Then silence, the attack had launched me across the room, but i didn’t hear anything i could see mouths moving, but now sounded seemed to come to me, only silence, the sudden confusion put my mind at work trying to figure out the puzzle, I almost forgot about the mission and the crumbling ceiling above. Reality kicked in when my best friend knocked me to the ground, avoiding a large piece of the ceiling that had fallen to the ground.
“Lets, GO ” she shouted, as she grabbed my wrist, we raced in the elaborate maze of castle I pumped my legs faster and faster but as a began to reach a steady fast face, I remembered my mom in the meeting room,
“Alea, my mom” I whispered in a state of panic. I ripped my writing away from her grip and raced back to the meeting room. Alea followed closing tagging behind

“Kalindi, the meeting room already collapsed, we need to go back now”

“You don’t know that!” I respond

“Yes I do” she pulled up a holograph map showing the meeting rooms, roof caved in and there were no survivors in sight.

“Maybe she’s alive under the rubble” I responded even though I knew that was impossible.

“Kalindi-”

“You don’t understand your parents aren't even alive, you don’t even have any family, you don’t understand what it is like to love someone.”

“Kalindi, maybe I don’t know my parents but more than anything in the world I wish I could have known them, even seen them.”

word count: 372
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nov 4th daily:

I tucked my self under the leg room space of passenger seat, and held my breath, I could here the shouting of pirates as they surrounded my moms car, as it bobbed violently in the choppy water, it was afloat somehow, I couldn't understand how or why but I new this was real. A dozen or so pirates standing on the dock, were staring into the car, this put a cold shiver down my spine as I slowly exhaled as quietly as possible, I kept all my attention on the sound of my exhaling that when the truck of my mom car opened with a loud creak, I couldn’t help but make a small squeak, as soon as the sound came out of my month I felt the wave of death wash over me, I looked up cautiously to see what the pirates reacting to my squeal was, from the view of the passenger window no pirate had seemed to notice me, except for one, she was tall, with eyepatch with an intricately designed eye patch that seemed to be painted with reflective paint, as I looked up, we locked eyes, I knew from that moment this situation was going to be a battle for my life. I clenched my fists into tight balls, ready for a fight. Then without warning she looked away. This caught me off guard, for I had just prepared myself to use my zero knowledge of self defence to fight off a dozen fully armed pirates. But it was a relief that would last a few minutes.
The pirate had failed to find me in the car but I assumed that, had taken the blender and old car seats that were in the back of my mom's car. As the pirates began to slowly move away from my mom’s car, I watched the pirate with the reflective eye patch, to see if she would blow my cover. As more and more pirates began to leave the car, she stayed having small conversations with the remaining pirates in her loud raspy voice. When the last pirate left, a big beefy one with a huge beard that covered most of face. She walked casually over to the passenger window, she bent down so that I could see her face more clearly, it was covered in reflective paint like her eyepatch, I sucked in a big gulp of air, just as she pulled her arm back and launched it at the window, the glass shards shattered all over that car but the small den of the passenger seat leg room protected me from the flying glass, The tall pirate reached into the car and pulled me out, with evil grin on her face she spat out the words Your mine now she tied my hands with and thick itchy rope that cut into my skin. I grunted as she dragged me along the port. At the end of the port there were two big pirates waiting for her. We have another one she said, as she handed me over to the big pirate on the left, like I was simply some money that one would casually hand over to someone with little care. What are we going to do with it? The big pirate on the right asked. Maybe let me go. . . I suggested. The pirates ignored me. This angered me, my cheeks and ears turned bright red. It made me feel like a piece of worthless trash. I thrashed my arms and legs and twisted my torso, to try to get out of the big pirate's grip, but no effort I made was enough to even make the pirate look down at me or even re-adjust his grip.

word count: 620
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nov 5th daily:

The non-fiction cabin is not full of idiots, not at all my cabin is filled with amazing hardworking writers that I hope love chocolate. Because if not, I am so sorry for you are now my mortal enemy. Chocolate is an amazing rich flavor that can be paired with sweet and sometimes savory things, like pretzels. The soft chewy warm pretzel covered in melty chocolate dark, milk, white chocolate whatever makes you happy. But for those of you who do not like chocolate, I’m really sorry; we will take a moment of silence to pray for those chocolate haters in hopes that someday they will come around to understand the love of chocolate. And I should know for I was once among these chocolate haters, but changed one year on halloween night, as my friend and I counted up our candies from the night and traded with each other for our favorite candies, I was giving out my kit kats like they were nothing this surprised my friends and they encouraged me try a bite of my last kit kat. At first I was reluctant but eventually peer pressure came in and I decided to try it. I shut my eyes tight and slowly brought a single kit kat stick to my mouth, as my teeth bit down on it, rich tasted of chocolate washed over my mouth, it was an unfamiliar taste to me yet it was amazing better than anything I had in my life, i opened my eyes and said proudly, “this is heaven.”
word count: 257
(it's fine if you don't like chocolate btw this piece of writing was all just for fun!
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nov 6th daily:

Whenever I threw the ball into the air it would change its color from orange to green or from green to orange, and sometimes it would stay the same color as it was previously, I didn’t like it when it did that, it was boring that way, I like change and the feeling of the unknown. And so far today It had changed color the everytime I had thrown it up into the air. It was a magical feeling, I wanted to think that being in the snow had some magical effect to it, but I knew that was only a fantasy. I continued throwing the ball up and down as I walked in the snow with my snowshoes which kept me afloat from sinking into the snow that was almost 3 times as tall as me. But snow didn’t end there, it was sitting atop the trees and if you shook one hard enough the snow would come down on you, and when you shook it off it would create a tornado of snow all around you. It was the best feeling, despite the coldness you would have to endure after. The snow angels didn’t make things any warmer but they made funny small imprints of your body on the snow. I made a snow angel with my colored ball, it didn’t really look like an angel though more like a ball. As we finished up our snowy adventures and headed back to return our snowshoes I pulled on my dad's sleeve.

“Can we get some hot chocolate? Please, Please, Please!” I Squealed with excitement!

My dad consulted my mom and eventually I was treated to a steaming hot, hot chocolate with an abundance of marshmallows floating on top. I sipped it with delight and happiness. But I was forced to finish it before we got in the car because of course my clumsy childish hands would have no doubt dropped the hot chocolate all over the car.

As we drove away the snow began to shower down making the winter wonderland more magical than ever. I rolled down my window and stuck my hand out of the car and felt the snowflakes gently brush my finger tips. My head slowly began to dip but I used the last bits of energy I had to keep my eyes open and head up to catch every moment of the falling snow in the winter wonderland.

word count: 405
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word war (lost)
time limit: 5 minutes
prompt: no prompt

The pale ball lay on the sand lifelessly i counted help but notice that know one had seen it, so i picked it up i didn’t know who it belonged to where it was from or if anyone wanted it but i knew in my heart that would find its owner and return it them out of kindness of my heart, the problem was i had no where to start, i examined the ball to see if had any thing i found nothing so i began my quest to return the ball buy asking everyone on the beach if they new about who it could belong to a young girl said that she had seen two teenagers playing catch with it so, I asker every teen ager i new i this was their ball, all of them said it was not theirs, so I set out to find a new lead. An old man said that he had-

word count: 158
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word war (won)
time limit: 5 minutes
prompt: “A notebook washed up onto the beach.”

As i walked along the white sandy beach feeling the sand tickle my bare toes, as walked calming alone the beach i noticed a small notebook lying on the sand, I bend over to examined it it was white with a golden inscription one the cover that said: to whoever finds this, you will be blessed with eternal goodness. I was hesitant to pick up the notebook, but curiosity got the better of me and i scooped it up and flipped to the first page, it was filled with text i didn’t bother to read instead i turned to the next page and again it was filled with text from the top to the bottom after a quick scan of the notebook i realized that every page in the book was filled, then i began to read it, the first page began with this;
Dear reader, I hope this notebook will give you the world. I am a wizard that has blessed this notebook with eternal goodness. If you read every page in this book in 24 hours starting now this goodness will be granted good luck. The next paragraph’s writing was written so small that the sunset was not enough light to reflect the words.

word count: 206
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word war (won)
time limit: 2 minutes
prompt: no prompt

The stone wall was dark and gave me the sense of uncomfort it was nothing like home, my home had close to no stone walls everything was made out of wood with plants and fields of grass. The fields of grass covered most of my town that was the number one play place for the kids in my town we, would play hide and seek their, catch frogs, and have the wildest of dreams their, for me it was to one day move to the city, and today i finally arrived, but the city was nothing of what i dreamed it to be.

word count: 103
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Unfinished Weekly #1
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P1
“So you’re not one of us?” Kalindi said with a quivering voice as she stepped back, pushing the rest of the rebellion with her,

“No I stammered, I promise I’m not a spy, I am one of you. . . ”

“The tattoo on your arm says otherwise.” she spat

I looked down at my exposed left forearm, as a wave of regret hit me. I realized that when my arm was injured the metics must have seen my tattoo.

“No, no, NO, NO” I cried, this was the only family I had ever known that understood me and exapted me for who I told them was, but I realized the real me wasted good enough for them. This realization shook me to my core, the ball of anger, denial, family, war, death, everything inside of me exploded. My knees collapsed and crashed into the ground followed by my entire body. I wept tears of anger and hate towards the rebellion, after all I had for them this was how they were going to treat me because of a mark on my arm. I dug my fists into the dirt and lifted my head to see the rebellion staring lifelessly at me. Except for Moringa, she broke her stare as I made eye contact with her and she turned away. But I could have sworn I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

word count: 230
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P2
I crouched down hiding behind the small green plant in front of me, it was just small enough so that know one could spot me. My team was still waiting for our orders from our commander. I looked up into the sky scanning if for any messenger pigeons, there were none in sight in the small patch of sky I could see, I grunted with frustration.

“Do you see any messenger pigeons?” I asked Jolia

“None, yet.” she said keeping her eyes glued to the ever darkening sky.

I signed and pulled out a strip of dried meat, and took a huge bit out of it. It was rich with flavor and gave me an extra boost of energy I knew I would need for the night.

“There! Right There!” Jolia whispered to me. We got the attention of the pigeon, and it swooped down and gave us the scroll, with the battle plans, before flying back up out of our sight. Jolia unwrapped the thin string that kept the plans tied up into a scroll, she tucked the string into one of her many pockets and then silently opened the letter for both of us to read. The plan was this,
A small town 67 coordinates from our spot is harboring a war criminal from the rebellion, it was our job to eliminate everyone in that town for supporting the rebellion, and bring back the infamous rebellion fighter for interrogation.

“Sounds easy enough.” Jolia said with a shrug as she passed one to the soldiers next to us.

“. . .yeah.” I said as I let out a sign of confusion. “Easy enough.”

We waited for the soldiers to pass the plans back to us, and as the protocall always stated we were to burn the plans so that no enemy fighters could learn our battle tactics. I pulled out my lighter and watched as the plans to kill this town was erased with the flick of my lighter.

Time to head out

Jolia signed to all the soldiers in our group, we used a secret version of sign languages on some missions to communicate soundlessly so that we could keep a low profile and successfully complete surprise attack missions.

The soldiers in our squad followed Jolia in single file line as we headed out to the small town, Jolias photographic memory had allowed her to memorize the map in matter of seconds, as we followed Jolia, I resisted the urge to ask her if she thought this mission was the right thing to do, Jolias loyalty to the Un-Chacal was bound by revenge for the rebellion, for they had killed her family. She had always been willing to do whatever was needed to complete the mission, and did with no visible guilt or hesitation. My long train of thought ended when she signed for us to stop moving and freeze. She then paused for a moment scanning the area with her night vision binoculars.

Down. She signed. Our squad dropped to the ground and made a unisent thud on the dirt. I could see the faint lights of the town, but I was unsure of how well armed they were and their numbers.

We waited for more orders from her, I kept my eyes on her hands, she surveyed the area more until she located the war criminal hideout.

Alright she signed ,here's what we're gonna do, Dalisa and Morter it’s your job to retrieve the war criminal, the rest of us will eliminate the town and provide you with a distraction. Get going, the town is right ahead.

Dalisa and Morter got up swiftly and as they disappeared behind the tree,

Jolia signed Fire!

word count: 615
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P3
So there's not really one set villain in the story; it's kinda like society and how they treat her because of where she’s from even though she had done no personal harm to them.

word count: 34
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total word count for unfinished daily: 879
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Daily nov 8th
The chat box of the No-Fi Cabin had been blasting with messages all afternoon, people were fighting over which cabins we should make allanies with, frankly I was just enjoying the drama. Other people were telling the tales of how they had poisoned campers from other cabins, a specifically liked this comment thread:

@kiki-koko:
mwahahaha! The Poetry Cabin will DIE!!! They have been poisoned by my cookies, they have no change left! >

@lipadda:
YES! Can you give me the recipe for the poisonous cookies! It is time to get revenge on the other cabins! >:3

@kiki-koko:
Yes! We shall join forces and crush our enemies! mwahahaha!

Ingredients:

-1 cup flour
-⅓ cup chocolate chips
-1 egg white
-¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
-½ cup sugar
-⅛ teaspoon baking soda
-½ teaspoon poison juice

Recipe:

1 Mix flour, sugar and baking soda together in a small bowl.

2. Add all other ingredients to the bowl. Mix well.

3. Bake in the oven for 8 minutes at 345 degrees fahrenheit.

@lipadda:
THANK YOU! *bakes cookies*. I shall now give these to the other cabins! Mwahahaha!

This chat thread got me laughing so hard that I took the time out of my day to actually make the cookies, without the poison juice of course. I began by attempting to put the flour in the bowl. It was not the smoothest operation, I may have spilled half the bag, and then swept it onto the floor and let my dog eat it up. After that I proceeded to follow the instructions by adding the sugar in next. Now as simple as this might seem, don’t be fooled, the sugar lay in a precious glass container that could not be dropped on the ground at any cost. I picked up the glass sugar container with two hands taking all the procussions. I lifted my foot into the air and placed it on the ground, but I was not aware of the spiller that I had stepped on. Once I felt it, it caught me so off guard that the glass container slipped out of my hands and shattered into a million pieces, right in front of my eyes. The sugar had spilled into a messy pile. I saw my dog come into the kitchen as he ran over to the salt in glee.

“No.” I said streardly to him, “you can’t have it, it could have glass shards in it.”

My dog nodded solemnly and walked away with what I interpreted as a sigh. The rest of the recipe was no fun to finish, once I had swept away all the sugar and glass. I put more than ¼ teaspoon of vanilla extract, in fact I put in ¼ of a cup. I was not looking forward to the taste of a full on vanilla dough. Instead of putting in 1 egg white, I put in a dozen egg white. By the time the recipe was finished, the “dough” was a gooey, liquidy mess. I sighed, as I dumped the entire mixture into the sink and washed it down with the sink faucet. After what seemed like hours of cleaning the kitchen. I hopped back onto my computer only to see that the daily and weekly had changed.

I groaned “WHY! WHY ME!”

After I got over my anger and frustration I got a boost of motivation and I knocked out the daily in one go!

“YES” I cried as I inputted my achievement in to the into the ❇ SWC Main Cabin Nov 2021 ❇, seconds later someone respond with: All counted! . I checked the scores and it turned out the Non-Fiction Cabin was now in first place!

word count: 614

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Daily nov 11th
“No. Burn the entire village” Glenn said ”we can’t afford to be wrong. Plus it's going to be much fun, trust me”

I looked up at Glenn with confusion in my eyes “What?! We can’t do that! These are innocent people!”


“They were harboring a war criminal, that makes them guilty, Eliminate them.”

“But they have not hurt anyone,” I stammered

“Lieutenant, did you hear what I said ” he said in a low menacing tone as he grabbed my arm.

“Y-Yes” I said as I hung my head afraid to disobey my commander I lit my dark wooden torch with a bright and dangerous flame. It flickered in front of my face it’s orange glow illuminated my face, and it’s crackles seemed to laugh at me saying I was foolish to do such a thing to a town. I glared at the flame and it only responded with more laughing.

“Whatever I muttered, I made my way over to the town leading the rest of the battalion” we walked along the dirt path that led to the town, It’s fighters were worn out from last night's fight and they were all out of arrows. They would be defenseless against the fire.

As we entered the town there were no guards to try and stop us. We made our way through the town scouting out the best places to light the fire. We had found ten different places that were stutable to start a flame, we spread out evenly among them and one my signal we lit them. As I leaned my torch to the base of the tree that towered over the entire town, I wave a regret towered over me. I remembered what it was like when my town had been burned to the ground, I lost my twin and brother in the fire. But it was too late. The wind had blown the flame of the torch into the tree, I watched as the flame raced up the tree and lit the leaves, and branches. The fiery leaves rained down on the town, lighting the houses on fire, and creating a cloud of black smoke that felt like a curse. I raced through the town as people started to flood out of the houses with screams of terror. I could see a small child ahead of me weeping outside his small house. I tried to ignore the boy but his tears brought back memories of my life.

word count: 408
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Cabin Wars

As I walked through the alley I pulled up my hood and slipped my hands in to my pockets to hide the expensive rings I was wearing, put i knew sheltering my hands would do no good to hid my wealth, I would have to rely on the shadow to keep me hidden from the thieves waiting for me at the end of the ally. I scanned my current surroundings, all the thieves and homeless robber were visible so I knew moving closer to the right wall would give me more distance and more time to run and escape if the robbers attacked me. I could see two pairs of icy eyes looking at me, they had their eyes on my purse. I should have been alarmed by this, but I knew that there was nothing in the purse valuable enough to fight back for. If I was attacked I would let him get away with the purse. A few seconds later, as expected he ran towards me from behind, I could hear his loud clanky footsteps against the asphalt, with this knowledge I loosened the chain and let it slip from my neck exactly at the moment he took a grab for my purse. After this, to make him believe that he had gotten himself a good reward I shouted:

“NO, No give that back that's important” as he dashed off into the oblivion.

word count: 235
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Cabin Wars

I ran through the interlocking allies, no many people could make it out of the ally but I had a crystal clear image of it in my head, I knew that the market was just two right turns ahead but I was not going there I was headed to the dark ally, their the finest of fruits could be found, it was dangerous to get you hand on these exquisite fruits because they were banned from being harvested is Ya-Chachla, not many people tried to get their hand on these fruits so they were sold for a relatively low price. As I made my last turn into the ally I dug my hand inside the most secret pocket to feel for the money I had brought. It was gone.

“What I muttered in confusion” digging my hand in every other pocket of my jacket “How–NO- that couldn't have happened”

I retraced my steps back through the maze, I felt around on the well traveled gravel that made up the streets of the alley way, it was no were to be found. I grunted, someone must have picked it up, I doubt they were in a hurry to return it to it’s rightful owner.

word count: 208
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Cabin Wars

The T.V. in Mr.Collinson's living room was staticky as it relayed the daily news to an empty audience.

Just a few hours ago in the small town of Port Washington N.Y. a man by the name of Robert Collinson was found missing! According to his daughter, Amy J. Collinson, she was visiting him last week during her thanksgiving break, and has not seen him since, she hopes that the local authorities can locate him, and is sending her prayers to her father in hopes that he is safe and will soon be found. As of now the authorities are searching his house for any clues or signs of his whereabouts. We have stationed a new reporter there and here is what she has to say about the experience.

The original report flashed out of the screen and a new one dressed in red cardigan with a white pearl necklace popped into the screen standing inside Robert Collinson's living room. She was clearly amused to see herself on the staticky T.V. in Mr.Collinson living room, the T.V. had finally come so use after hours of broadcasting to know one. But soon reality kicked into the women with the red cardigan. She began a long lengthy speech about her experience.

Well it is truly and once in a lifetime experience I would have never thought I would get to witness something like this. And I’m so excited to be here reporting but also at the same time there is this cloud of nervousness and fear that is hanging over me, and it is telling me. You know maybe you should have stayed home but there is this other part of my brain like I said earlier which is like hey Beth this is a once in a lifetime experience make the most of it! So I'm really divided on what to think of this experience! But enough about me, we have a local authority that has some updates on the investigation.

The screen flashed again, this time a middle aged man appeared on the screen he had a slight European accent as he explained the information that had been uncovered.

As you can see from the dishes in Robert Collinson's sink you can see that he has left a plate in the sink so our bacteria specialist Dr.Palima is currently identify how old the food is, with this information we can get more information about the time of Robert Collinson's disaprennense, so right we’ll check in with Dr.Palima to see when we can get the readings.

The middle aged man walked briskly over to a short women sitting on the ground with a giant machine, which was making a series of unpleasant sound as it calculated the age of the food.

So how are we doing? asked the middle aged man to Dr.Palima after he had tapped her on the shoulder.

Good, the food is 3 days old. She signed in American sign language.

The middle aged man translated what she said, it’s three days old therefore we can conclude that Mr.Collinson was here 4 days ago living a normal life.

word count: 529
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Weekly #2
Warmups
1.Without planning or thinking beforehand, write 100 words as you design a character based on the prompt “secret origami expert”
The old man who lived on the corner of the giant apartment building was an origami master yet little people on his block knew of his secret talent. Only those kind enough to brighten the man’s day would be told the secret. For example the man was old and lugging an abundance of laundry up multiple flights of stairs was more than a challenge for him. He did not expect anyone to help him carry his laundry but when they did he would let them in on the secret and reward them in a thousand paper cranes for good luck.

2. Listen to a song in a different genre of music than usual and write 50 words while listening to that kind of music. Then, listen to a song in a genre of music you usually listen to and write 50 words. Does the type or genre of writing / style change?
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Pop: You Will Be Found
The beach felt lonely, yet that was so familiar to me that I didn’t seem wrong. But I knew I didn’t like it, so I was gonna change, I was going to be found. I slipped on my shoes and hopped on to my bike, to start a new chapter.
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Classical: Duel of the Fates
I ignited my blade, and I felt the warmth and glow of the saber brush my face, the sith lord in front of me had already drawn his blade but we were both equally ready for the fight. The sith made the first move; he crashed his blade into mine.
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I’m more familiar with pop songs so the words seemed to flow better when I listened to You Will Be Found. The writing I produced when listening to classical music also seemed to be more vague and some parts of the writing clearly reflected star wars.

Word Count (Warmups): 200

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Exploring Fiction
1.Write a scene with a sad/depressing mood, then write the same scene again with a happy mood, and finally once more with a mood of your choice (e.g. humorous, hopeful, fearful). 100 words per scene, for a total of 30

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Sad/Depressing
The first day back to school after winter break, was something I was dreading. I would have to wake up early, at 6 am, to then get to school by 7:55 which by the way was well before the time I was used to waking up due to my extreme laziness during break. After I would get to school my first period of the day was P.E.. And it’s true that I don’t hate P. E. but in the morning, when I have just rolled out of bed, I have no interest in participating in such physical activity.
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Happy
Tomorrow was the day I would go back to school. After a long boring break, I would see my friends in an environment where I didn’t need to do any work to organize our socialization. I would simply show up and then, I would see all my friends we could do whatever we wanted, before school started, and when school finally did start I would have my favorite teacher Ms.Lalisa for the first period of the day, I shared that period with my two BFFs, and nothing was going to stop me from having the best day at school.

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FearFul
I was fearful for the first day of school, our teacher had assigned us an advanced english test that day and although I studied I knew that I would not be able to even scrap out a C on the Test. To add to my dread to go to school my P. E. teacher was having us run the mile today and it was our final time that would be put into our grades. I wasn’t able to practise over the break because it had been snowy. I was not excited for school, even though I was with my friends.

2.Use a random number generator from 1 to the age of your character. Write about a memory your character has from when they were this age. If your character’s more than, say, 50, you can split their life into periods of 5 or 10 years and write about a memory from that period of their life instead of a specific year if you want.

Age: 5

I rushed through the corridors casing my little brother, he wasn’t faster than me but he was able to make sharp turns that i struggled with, when ever we came to a turn in hallways he would gain 3 of 6 feet of distance, it frustrated me so much that I was on the verge of giving up, and slaming my self into my bed, but as this thought floated into my head, so did another one if, I could some lose my brother in the hallways and then use the cameras to pinpoint his location and then finally lure him into my reach so the I could tag him. Without considering the odds of my plan working I made a right, and then a left and then right again until I reached the room that had access to all the cameras in the house. An area of T.V.s lined all of the walls and showed every corridor room and place to hide in the house. I scanned all of T.V.s looking for my little brother, I saw him flash off of one screen and on to another, I recognized that hallway, he was going to his room! With this reckless assumption of where he was going I dashed out of the camera room, zigzagging through the hallways until I reached the door of his room, I silenced my steps and peeked through the open crack in the door. I couldn’t see him anywhere in the room so I opened the door slightly more, and popped head into his room so I could have a 360 view of the area. Still I couldn't see him but I was confident about radical assumptions about the situation. As I stepped further into the room I heard muffled footsteps running behind me, I whipped my head around to see who it was.

Word Count (Exploring Fiction): 613
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Exploring Non-Fiction
1. Write a piece of writing in the style of a magazine or newspaper article all about something SWC related (e.g. word wars, your cabin, SWC itself, the hosts). You could be explaining what it is, announcing breaking news about it or writing an insider’s article on all the ins and outs of it! 600 words.

Scratch Writing Camp is Teaching Scratches the Rich Fundamentals of Writing.

If you are unfamiliar with Scratch Writing Camp or as more commonly referred to as SWC, it is a tri-annual virtual writing camp for scratchers all around the globe to participate in and learn the rich fundamentals of writing through a series of fun challenges and teamwork. This session of scratch writing camp is bigger than ever and I am here to walk you through everything you need to know about the inner workings of the camp.

This session Scratch Writing Camp opened its doors on November 1st 2021 after choosing it’s campers, leader, and co-leader for the month. I was lucky enough to be sorted into one of the 15 lovely cabins, Non-Fiction. When you first join your cabin whether that be Non-Fiction or any other cabin, you will be welcomed with open arms for you leaders and co-leader. Your first task will be to enter your nickname and your preferred pronouns. After this the first day of Scratch Writing Camp will officially start. You will be assigned your first daily and weekly to complete. The weekly will be due the following week on the same day and time it was assigned. And the daily will be due at 11:59 UTC time the next day. It’s also important to remember that during the november months daylight saving time will happen sometime in the middle of camp so in places where daylight saving times is a work, scratchers will need to adjust to turning in their dailies at different times. However it’s important to remember that nothing SWC assigneds is campers is required work, and it is highly encouraged that you put your personal life and needs before Scratch Writing Camp. But if you have the time and energy to actively participate in these activities there are a few more things you should know.

First of all as well as trying to reach your own personal word goal which you would have already stated in the application process. You are also taking part in a competition against other cabins, the goal is to try and gain as many points as you can by the end of the month, and the cabin with the most points at the end of session wins. There are multiple ways to earn points. The first way would be to do dailys, while it is true that not all dailies will get you points more, 70% of them will, so it’s a good ideas to check out the daily to see if you can receive point for it, to help you cabin advance through he leader board or maintain their current possession. The second way to gain points is by doing weeklies. There are four weeklies in a session and they will give your cabin a generous serving of points ranging from 3000 to anywhere near 6000. Next word wars! This method is a small competition between two scratchers they will decide on a small amount of time to write as much as they possibly can with or without a prompt. After the time ends whoever has written the most will gain 100 points for their cabin, but it is important to note that Word Wars are only available for the camp later into the session. A tip for gaining points in word wars: try to find a camper with a smaller words per minute typing rate then you, so that you have an advantage over speed. Another tip, try to get faster at typing so that you can have more speed, also pay attention to if you work better with or without a prompt.

2. What’s your hottest take? Justify and explain it in the form of a 600 word opinion piece. (note: it should be a silly hot take!!! like “pencils are evil” or “__ is a bad character”, not anything political <3)

Written on paper
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Word Count (Exploring Non-Fiction): 1215
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Weekly Number 2 Total Word Count: 2028

Daily #1 - Mango Cream Pie

its delicious don't judge

If I had to choose my favourite dessert, I would say mango cream pie. And yes SWC, MANGO. I love the creamy, mango-ey cream and how the flavour works perfectly with the biscuit. Not just the flavour, but the texture too. If the biscuit was less firm, the dessert would be mushy, but pairing the cream and the sweet layer of biscuit makes the textures go together even better than yin and yang. At a first glance, you can see absolutely no trace of mango, but even just a tiny bite and the delicious flavours of mango come exploding out at you. It tastes extra good if you pair it with some nice fresh raspberries. I first had this dessert less than a month ago, and I have only had it once, but it truly blew me out of the water. I was at a family reunion with my cousins and my aunt had made mango cream pie for dessert. When I first heard the name “Mango Cream Pie” I was honestly a little skeptical. I had thought the cream would be orange or yellow, like a mango, but it was off-white. Mango is obviously the best fruit and I didn’t want it to be wasted on a disgusting abomination. (This is actually my thought process). I am sure the rest of the family was as amazed as I was. It is very, very hard to make eight kids silent for over two minutes, especially if they are related to me. I don’t know what anyone else’s definition of mango cream pie is, but to me, It’s literally just a big round biscuit with a THICK layer of mango cream on top. It sounds simple, but the texture and taste is more interesting and complex than any other dessert I’ve ever had.

Lark's writing-
Nov. 2! (One was done but not exactly easily shareable :'D)

My dearest darling dessert, cheesecake,
Words seem feeble and failable as I try to describe your epic majesty. Yet I shall do my best. From your crunchy crust to your creamy cheese, you truly showcase a wide variety of flavours and textures. Your potential astounds me. I truly believe I could give you any fruit, any chocolate, and you would compliment it perfectly, easily. Not to mention the way it would perfectly pattern your surface. Swirls and lines, circles and lattice decorate you and bless you with their beauty. You're just as beautiful inside, my darling, your flavours melting to the taste and oh so delectable. Rich and filling, I only need a tiny slice of you to be full, and yet, I'm not sure you'll ever fully satisfy me. I'll always want more of you, my love, but I'm just not sure that's good for me. I do not believe our relationship is healthy, you see. In fact, I'm rather sure it's quite the opposite. So with that in mind, Cheesy, I think it's time we took a break from one another. It's not your fault, and it never will be. This split is directly caused by myself, and please don't blame yourself for anything. I still love you, sweetie, but simple logic says we can't always be together, and I think it's better to break this off before it gets too serious. Someday, another day, one long distant day, maybe we'll reunite, and I'm sure that reunion will feel joyous and long overdue. For the moment, though, it's over. It's been such a joy, our brief and fleeting relationship, and you'll always hold a piece of my heart. I just can't take this any more, though, knowing what it'll become.
Farewell my love, I used to treasure you.

Exactly 300 words

November 6th:

Words: Rain, swan, willow, lake
The thunder could be heard from a distance before any signs of rain could be heard, and it startled the birds up from the body of water they'd been resting in. There were three of them, cream feathered swans all. With some hesitancy, the trio landed back on the surface of the lake, seemingly alert.
And they were. The largest of the swans was the mother of the other two, and a gentle, graceful soul. She'd heard thunder before, and knew that it frequently brought torrents of sky-water with it. So it was her that herded her children to the sheltering roots of the willow tree that sat near the lake, halfway fallen into it. The large roots arched down into the water, allowing the swans to hide beneath them.
It was shortly after that it began to rain, the droplets causing ripples that irritated the birds. Well, specifically, the younger two. Both of them were generally more emotional than their mother.

November 7th:

Mel sat on the top bunk of their bed, legs dangling off the edge. Their roommate sat on his own bed, staring up at the ceiling of the dorm room the two shared. Emmett- that was his name- had his earbuds in, seemingly spaced out, which was why Mel was a bit surprised when he spoke up.
“I really should have packed another blanket,” he mused, wrapping the plaid comforter he had brought around him.
“You probably should have, yeah,” Mel agreed with a bit of a laugh, their tone light-hearted.
Emmett nodded a bit, then replied, “See, the only issue is, all the other blankies- sorry, blankets, I've got at home are frog patterned, and I was worried you'd judge. Not that you gave that impression, I just hoped I wouldn't get some judgy jock roommate, somebody who'd mock me about it.” he confessed, looking a bit nervous. These were the most words he'd ever spoken to Mel at one time. Not that that was saying a ton- they'd been here at Murray University for less than two days now.
Mel gave him a grin, quickly replying, “You're a bio major, right? As long as the frogs on your blankets aren't half dissected, I'm not about to judge, dude.”
Emmett giggled, and, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, the student provided context. “Yep, biology for life. It was actually the frog blankets, or, well, the aquarium we got them from that got me interested.”
Mel, who could nicely be described as interested by others, and cruelly described as nosy, wanted to know more. After all, they'd be living with Emmett for possibly the next four years, and there was no time like the present to get to know him. So they made sure they sounded enthusiastic when they replied, “Oh, I always loved the aquarium as a kiddo! Did you live near one down in… Florida?”
“Pretty close, yeah. It was about a half hour walk, but we were less than five minutes away by subway. So we went all the time when I was little . The we being me and my uncle. He's a scientist, which is kind of ironic, cause my parents are, erm, not. Definitely not. They're uhm, conspiracy theorists, actually.” He shifted positions, seeming uncomfortable. His words had gotten ahead of his thoughts, but he'd had no choice but to finish them.
“Oh. Wow. That sucks, dude.” Mel was succinct, realising that Emmett had begun a story.
“It does. I'm estranged from them now, though, and I lived with my uncle through high school. He was always more supportive of me anyways. I'm just grateful my parents didn't homeschool me, I'd probably be a totally different person. It was bad enough when I was too young for school- they'd take me off on trips to try and prove their theories, and we'd sleep in tents without heat- anyways, they're not great.” Feeling like he was sharing too much, Emmett added, “So, uh, how was your growing up?”




Weekly:
Mel and Emmett are both college students, but that's almost where their similarities end. Mel is extremely curious, and though they tend to be pretty good at reading emotions, they can still ask some pretty nosy questions. These traits in combination often lead to Mel starting to ask a question, and realising halfway through that it's wrong, and just then not finishing their sentence. They're bold and direct, quite confident in themself. That being said, they don't like negative emotions, and often change the topic when that comes up in conversation.

Emmett cares a lot about what others think of him, and is pretty insecure. He's worked hard to craft a public persona that seems put together and intelligent, and so, if he's talking to someone he's not close to, or planning to be close to, he may use large words and short sentences. But Emmett is a bit too trusting of people, and it's pretty easy to get him to open up and seem vulnerable, should he trust the person he's talking to. That being said, you can't really trust what he tells you. Emmett's insecurities over the course of his life led to him becoming a pathological liar. Especially now, at college, where nobody but his roommate knows him, Emmett is quick to embellish himself with falsehoods.

“So, what you do think the hall's lunch'll be this afternoon?” Mel asked, simply for the sake of conversation, as they walked across the gray stone sidewalks of Murray University.
“Hm, I really don't know. But I hope it's mac and cheese. That's my favourite food, actually, how about you?” Emmett replied, tone pleasantly inquiring.
Mel bit his lip. “Oh, difficult question. I have so many favourites, it's hard to choose. Anything spicy is a yes, meat is a no. Did I tell you I'm a vegetarian?”
“Uhm, no you did not. So… you're a vegetarian?” he asked, seemingly a little caught off guard. Just based on his first impression of them, Mel seemed like a person who'd really enjoy cookouts, barbecues, and so it was a little off-putting to realise how far he was from the truth.
“That's right!” Mel declared, pride in his voice. “I converted on principle a couple years back, because raising animals is such a part of global warming, and also, I'm still not sure animals don't have souls. So that's that,” they ended, with a bit of a laugh.
“That's that indeed,” Emmett said, now feeling guilty for his own meat eating status. But of course, that could be changed with a simple little lie. “I was just so surprised that I'd found another vegetarian, man, I thought I was going to be the only one!”
Something in Emmett's voice sounded a little off to Mel, and they sounded a bit dubious when he replied, “Oh, cool.”

My protagonist is going to be Emmett, the morally ambiguous, slightly sleep deprived college student. He’s got his basic needs met (well, he could do with a bit more sleep, but other than that), but he’s looking for friendship and acceptance, a sort of psychological need. Mel, my antagonist, wants to stand out. He’s conformed to standards long enough, and he just wants to be taken notice of, no matter the cost. His natural confidence helps him out here, but it’s not enough to reach the level of attention he wants- he’s going to have to do something more.

The droplets of rain trickled down the windowpane of Emmett’s dorm room, the noises of their falling doing a reasonable job of muffling the student’s tears. It had been a stressful few days, and though he wasn’t about to admit it, everything had been going quite poorly as of late. The essay he’d poured his heart and soul and time into had come back as a C-, nearly a failure. And that was how Emmett felt right then, nearly- if not actually- a failure. That wasn’t even the worst of it. The overwhelming amounts of homework he’d been given left him hardly any time to socialise, leaving him friendless aside from Mel. But even Mel had been busy with his own life.
Trying to collect himself, in an effort to maybe be productive, Emmett brushed his tears away with a corner of his blanket, and checked his phone. A message from Mel. Asking if he could come down and unlock the dorm building, so he could get in. There was a brief moment when Emmett wondered why the building would be locked, but he then noticed the time. 3 in the morning, definitely not during unlocked hours. Mel’s message had been sent about five minutes ago, so he should still be out there. Replying quickly, Emmett threw on a coat, pulled on his boots, and was at the dorm doors within a couple minutes.
“What took you so long, dude?” Mel asked, a bit of accusation in their voice. They looked a bit of a mess, having just returned from his night shift at the hospital. It’d been rough for them too.
“Perhaps my every waking moment doesn’t revolve around you, Mel,” Emmett snapped back, surprised and a little frightened of the malice that he heard.
“Just check your phone every once in a while, honestly!” Mel had raised their voice, and shoved past Emmett, making his way inside the common room.
“Is something wrong?!” Emmett asked, becoming frustrated. “Just because we’re roommates doesn’t mean I should be opening the door for you at three in the morning, and certainly not receiving this kind of greeting!”
“Yes, something’s wrong, and it’s you, you weak-willed liar!” And with that, Mel was gone, slipping into the elevator as soon as the doors opened, and leaving Emmett without the confidence to follow him.
And here Emmett had thought they were friends. Obviously not. This wasn’t the first sign he’d gotten that their relationship wasn’t all it appeared to be, just the most clear one. There’d been the time Mel had skipped their plans to meet for lunch, because he was busy, and yet ended up having the time to hang out with the others who frequented the game room. Then there was the time that Emmett had told Mel about his sketching journal, with the disclaimer that he would never feel comfortable showing it to anyone. And yet, the bookmark had ended up on a different page than the one he remembered putting it in. He’d brushed these aside, calling them coincidence or mistake, but he knew. Oh, he knew now. Mel hated him. Mel knew he’d lied, lied about nearly every aspect of his life to make himself likable. Now, nobody would ever like him. With that thought, Emmett collapsed onto the hardwood floor of the common room, gusts of wind blowing in from the still open door, and chilling his sobbing body.

Part three- my villain, Mel, isn’t a villain by sight, nor really a villain in the traditional sense, more of an antagonist. He’s majoring in Finance, it’s his first year in college, and he wants to stand out. He’s got a short temper, but is really curious in general, and as such can come off as rude. They’re quite confident in himself, sometimes to the point of arrogance, and his pride is one of his greatest flaws. His motivation is to be seen as important and different, to be given attention, no matter what he has to do to get it. This leads to him disregarding Emmett, because he isn’t very interesting nor useful for getting attention.

I turned the handle of the door-knob with a sort of hesitancy, hoping Emmett wouldn’t be there. He’d gotten on my last nerve last night, after I’d gotten home from a shift, and he’d left me waiting, out in the cold, for ten minutes, just because he wouldn’t walk down a flight of stairs. The worst part of him was his neediness- every time I went someplace, he asked, “Where’re you going, Mel? What’re you doing, Mel?” I hated it, and I hated him. He just didn’t understand me in the slightest, and lacked all the social tact to make an attempt at remedying that.
As I stepped in the room, a sigh of relief escaped me. Emmett was nowhere to be found. If he’d been there, I probably would have left. The guy had a nasty habit of talking to himself under his breath as he worked, making it impossible for literally anyone else in the room to focus. And it wasn’t even about what he was working on. No, he seemed to be processing the thoughts of his day, rambling to himself about his interactions with others.
Climbing up to my bunk, I noticed Emmett’s phone plugged in, charging on the windowsill near his bed. And an idea hit. One I’m pretty proud of, if I do say so myself. See, I’d always had my suspicions that there was something fishy about Emmett. Just not quite right. He seemed to always have similarities with anyone he met, and there were times it took him longer to recall things about himself. I thought he was a liar, and I was determined to catch him in the act. Or, rather, record him. Pulling up the video app on my own phone, I hopped down from my bunk, grabbed a charger cord out of one of my bags, and plugged it in, on Emmett’s windowsill. Turning on the camera, hitting record, and facing the camera towards Emmett, my trap was set. I could catch his mumblings, and catch his lies with it.
It might seem a bit cruel, but really, he deserved it. If people aren’t honest, then they’re not good people. Of course, there might have been a bit of my motivation sourced from the fact that exposing Emmet would certainly bring me attention as well. Imagine my reaction! My shocked, scandalized reaction. I had no idea, I’d accidentally left my phone on record one day, and then oh! The evidence! The horror! Everyone would hate him, just like me. Everyone would pity me, the roommate of the liar.
Those were the thoughts that filled my mind as I went about my day, attending a couple classes, working at the hospital. And by the time I got back to my dorm, Emmett was fast asleep, head buried in pages of trigonometry homework I wasn’t about to help him with. So, grabbing my phone from its perch, I put earbuds in to listen to my proof.
That might have been one of the happiest moments of my life, knowing that sweet, sweet, revenge was now possible, and the sleeping form before me was utterly unsuspecting of it.
The recording was everything I’d needed and suspected- as well as a bit more.
“Today I told Mel that I used to live with my uncle- that was a total lie, just because I’m pretty sure he didn’t live with his parents either. Feel bad for him, really. If I’m insecure, then that guy is absolutely obsessively worried about himself and his reputation.”
That hit too close to home for me, as all of it was nearly true. I was indeed very concerned with how people thought of me.
And so began my internal debate with what to do with the video. Should I post it online? But then it might look like I was seeking to start drama, and nobody likes that. Should I show it to a “friend”? That seemed like it would have the most potential. But there was still the debate about whether I should do anything with it at all. I hated Emmett, yes, but I still had morals. Unlike him. Maybe I should confront him with the video instead, tell him if he doesn’t start shaping up, this would become public. But that wouldn’t really get me attention, just solve my problem with him.
I decided to take a walk to clear my head, keeping my phone safely in my back pocket as I skipped down the stairs, hopping over a few and nearly stumbling. When I went outside I was hit with a wall of colours. The fall leaves had turned shades of orange, yellow, and red, to the extent that the trees looked like their own tiny suns, beautifully illuminating the campus. I noticed people, happy people around me, laughing and talking, lost in their own little worlds.
And that was when I began to question- why wasn’t I that happy? What was stopping me? Was it Emmett, or was it myself? Was it Emmett, or was it myself? Was it him or me? Him or me? And my brain- the same brain that told me Emmett was a problem- echoed back at me, me, me, me.
Brow furrowing in shock at this possible revelation, I pulled my green jacket tighter around me and began to run. The messenger bag at my side bumped forwards and bruised my thigh, but I couldn’t have cared less. The campus was fresh and new and colourful and I was dull and sad and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why. What was I lacking? Why wasn’t I happy? Did I hate Emmett, or did a part of me envy him, because we were both so similar, but he almost seemed content? Content- such an odd word- being satisfied with something, and I don’t really think either he or I were that, and yet… why wasn’t I? I was at college, earning an education. My future was starting, but I was the one ruining the present, wasn’t I? A leaf fell from the tree in front of me, crisp and golden. Landing on the sidewalk in front of me, it teased me with its peace.

Daily 12-

“Yeah, okay, so the carriage is definitely totaled. But what are we gonna do about the goat?” Marie asked, inspecting the ruffles of her fluffy skirt to see if it'd gotten dirty in the crash. Her soft pink dress and rosy cheeks to match contrasted sharply with the scene in front of her, with the muddy road and the tipped carriage prominent features of the landscape. The other figure looked more like she belonged there, with a rugged appearance and heavy work books, her hair pulled tightly into a ponytail at the nape of her neck- quite improper for the time, but Ann couldn't have cared less.
“I really don't know, Marie.” Ann replied, annoyance clear in her voice. Beginning to chastise her sister, she went on, “I told you to let me drive the carriage, honestly, what made you think you could hold Herbert and steer at the same time?” Herbert was the third member of the stranded party, an ancient billy goat that had been Ann's childhood pet and companion, who currently happened to be eating what appeared to be a tunic of some sort.
“Well, if you hadn't decided to take us out on a ”scenic drive“ when it was freezing outside, perhaps I wouldn't have had to hold the goat to stay warm!” Marie countered, holding up her petticoat with one hand as she chased after Herbert, just barely managing to scoop up the animal.
Noticing her sister had a point, Ann moved on, saying, “Alright, alright. We're just about… maybe five miles from where we started? It shouldn't be too difficult to walk back.”
“Not for you, maybe!” The other sister exclaimed. “But I've got a goat, dress, and heels!”
“I can hold the goat, if you want,” Ann offered, though she knew that wasn't really the reason Marie didn't want to walk back. She'd known her sister long enough to identify her sister's aversion to muck, and well, the road back was precisely that.
“No. I'll just… wait here, the sun's quite a ways from setting yet, and I'm sure the Millers will be alright with lending us a horse for you to take me back on. Knew we shouldn't have borrowed their newfangled electric carriage anyways,” she replied, the last part a frustrated whisper under her breath. She scowled down at Herbert, who had tried to squirm out of her arms just a moment ago.


At the very sound of his mentor's voice- whose opinions Burnetrose treasured deeply- he perked up, a little more awake, a little bit more alert. He cleared his throat, making sure he didn't sound more like a grizzly bear than a cat when he replied, “Oh, rather well. A bit tired, but when are warriors not?” Because Darkglow was still a warrior, surely he could relate. Right? Burnetrose hoped the intentions of his last sentence wouldn't be misconstrued, accidently twisted into implying that his former mentor was much too old to be a warrior, or not deserving of being one. As long as Darkglow didn't overthink it, Burnetrose hoped the sentence would be fine, as it was certainly too late to now correct it. “Well, the clan, I suppose. So instead of just two parents, you'll have… uh, lots, lots more sort-of-parents? And I'm sure that the love and protection the whole clan provides will be at least as good.” Again, Burnetrose wasn't entirely sure of these statements. He didn't know what the clan was even really going to do with the kits, but these answers just seemed like they made the most sense. Feeling sympathetic for the little one, Burnetrose patted her side with his tail.


PART 1 OF WEEKLY 4:
The thrum of conversation in the school's cafeteria grew to a slow halt, and soon the only sounds that could be heard were the various noises of the lunch ladies cleaning up, and the clip clopping of cloven hooves.
Then, a voice. “Hi all! It's your pals from Adventure Academy, here with the goats you wanted!” The emotions it radiated were cheerful and confident, and the figure it came from the same.
Chatter between tablemates started up once more, as they theorized what in the world the goat was doing in the cafeteria of their somewhat normal school. It was then that one of the goats, a gray one with crooked horns, bolted towards the salad bar, having just now noticed it from across the room. It charged past tables and students, catching the attention of the students like their star quarterback caught footballs. And then, action was taken.
A student who was seated near the salad bar stood up, pulling her dark hair into a ponytail behind her head, and pushing her glasses up on her nose. Vi, the school's secretary, and generally the most responsible (though certainly chaotic when she chose to be) person there, was going to sort out this mess. She snapped her fingers, and the loud crack echoed through the large room, silencing the people once more, and stopping the goat in its tracks. Walking over to the assembled group of Adventure students, she noted with distaste the muddy hooves of the goats.
Her voice was authoritative when she stated, “What, may I ask, is going on here?”
The voice of the Adventure student who replied sounded rather meeker than before, as if they'd realised, all of a sudden, that bringing goats into a crowded place that served food might not have been the best idea. “Uhm… you said you wanted goats for the lawn, right? To, uh, mow it or something? I was just going to go find somebody responsible, but the hamburgers smelled so good… even though I'm vegetarian.”
“We've got bean burgers, you know.” Vi replied, before going onto the more important part of her statement. “Why don't you sit down and eat one, and I'll take the goats up to the lawn, leash them, and then once you're done with the burger, you can return to your Academy.” Her tone wasn't quite condescending, but she did speak in a rather chastising manner, as if the other student really should have known better.
“Y'know, that sounds great, thanks.” And with that, the student scrambled over to the lunch lines, grabbing a tray and smiling as they saw the multiple side dishes offered.
Vi forced a smile to her face, and herded the goats together. After a couple moments, she'd leashed them to one another, and headed out of the cafeteria, waving goodbye to a few of her friends as she did so.
It was nothing more than an ordinarily interesting day at Sir Winston Churchill High School, home of the Awe-Inspiring Arsonists.
Exactly 500 words

PART 2:

A dark grey blur was all the world originally seemed to Lark, who'd woken up with their memories inaccessible and their world unfamiliar. They felt horridly out of place, but they didn't quite know why. Only that they'd never experienced anything like this place before, and that they'd didn't belong here. With a yawn, and a stretch of their feathered wings, they broke the eerie silence, trying to convince themself that everything was alright. Then, movement caught their searching eyes. Keys of a typewriter, typing. Though there was nobody else there. They were typing, all by themself. Curious- and frankly, frightened- Lark crept over to the machine, and read what it had written on the aged and curling paper.
“Horror Cabin?” they murmured to themself, fidgeting with a feather on their left wing. “That would certainly explain the greyscale, I suppose.” Easily amused even in situations such as this one, they chuckled to themself at their comment.
Swallowing down the fear that crept up inside them, Lark tried to reason with themself. “Y'know, cabin would imply that there is a world outside. A world being outside would imply the existence of a door leading there. All I've got to do, all I've really got to do, is find the door to the outside, and then I can head back to my home. My… home. My cabin? Cafeteria- wait, what?” Continuing to talk to themself, Lark kept trying to stave off their creeping feelings of confusion and panic. “I'll deal with that later.”
Taking a step or two away from the typewriter, Lark only now noticed the dampness of the room, and the faded, peeling wallpaper, which appeared, oddly enough, to be patterned with small little letters, in different classic fonts. It fascinated Lark, enough that they temporarily forgot their circumstances, and drew closer to the wall, brushing the tip of their wing lightly over one.
315 words

PART 3:
“Nice to meet y'all!” Lark exclaimed, running a hand through their short brown hair, which was fluffed up and slightly tufted, appearing rather similar to feathers. Though they used the stereotypically southern expression, there was little to no trace of an accent in their voice.
Vi grinned at them, and gestured towards the open tables. “You're welcome to take a seat, if you want. Or, well, we'd prefer if you didn't steal the chairs, but you're welcome to sit down.” She laughed a bit, and then added, “You've got to clarify around here- I heard some campers from a certain cabin,” here she broke into a series of coughs that sounded suspiciously like the word horror, “are a little unpredictable.”
Having done a bit of research beforehand, Lark laughed, as they knew that the Horror cabin was Contemporary's evil doppelganger, and the teasing was all in good fun. Deciding to take up Vi's offer of taking a seat- sorry, sitting down- Lark scanned the room, trying to spot a familiar face.
There was a student with long blond hair with the ends dyed purple that originally caught Lark's attention, as they had a friend that went to their normal high school that looked quite similar. But a further study proved they weren't the same person, and so Lark took a few steps away from the table at which the student leadership had sat, and towards the other end of the cafeteria, still hoping they'd find somebody they'd met before.
They couldn't ignore the overwhelming feelings of positivity that just seemed to radiate from the school and the people there, though. From the smell of fresh-baked cookies wafting pleasantly from behind the cooking counters, to the cheerful chattering that filled the room, they couldn't imagine ever feeling woeful in such a wonderful place.
302 words

PART 4:
How could it all have gone so terribly awry? One day they'd been in English class at Sir Winston Churchill High School, reading poetry about how the “best laid plans of mice and men often go awry,” and the next day, they'd become living proof of that statement. Oh, how splendid the plans for that school year had been! It had been in the middle of their second year, at a marching band game- known to most of the world as an American football game- when things had begun going south.
The football field had began to sizzle, just after the band had left. The noise was odd, certainly not something that'd been heard before, and one that caught the attention of many in the large crowd. Then, a crackling. And the football field burst into flames.
Later on, through interrogations, it was discovered that none of the spectators really knew how the fire had started. It had been so sudden, so spontaneous, and it didn't appear to have started from any certain corner of the field. Thankfully, there's been no injuries, but had the fire started just seconds earlier, it might have caught the marching band when they were still on the field.
Ironically, the theme of the show that year was elements, and so the band had formed multiple runes of the theme, a snowflake for ice, a leaf for earth, a wave for water, and a flame for fire. They'd done a song from Frozen, Michael Jackson's Earth Song, Yellow Submarine by the Beatles, and Jerry Lee Lewis' Great Balls of Fire. There were some members of the Contemporary class in the marching band, like Paige, Lark, and Summer, but most of the class had simply been in the stands, cheering on their one football player, Star.
Shortly after that, strange things started happening. Lark and Ophelio were just catching up after the game, joking around and weaving clovers together in crowns for one another. When suddenly, the braided stems in Leo's hands turned silvery, hardening and becoming twisted filaments of copper, a colour that nearly matched their reddish-brown hair. They gasped, and dropped it, now reckoning with their newfound ability to turn anything to metal. Lark was shocked, and, wondering if they might have somehow gained the same power, poked a blade of grass. They didn't have the same effect as Leo did, no, instead they'd gained a totally different power. The grass under their hand grew incredibly quickly, stretching up to twice its previous height in nearly a second. Previously closed daisies and clovers bloomed under their hand, as they'd now discovered a wonderful power of their very own.
Excited- no, thrilled, and still frankly in a bit of disbelief- maybe this was a shared hallucination?- Leo and Lark ran to their rest of their cabinmates, barely able to contain their overflowing wonder. They explained these thrilling revelations to their friends, speaking and then showing the powers they now had. Eager to perhaps discover their own powers, the members of Contemporary cabin began running through the list of superpowers they new, hoping and praying that maybe they had them too. And they did.
Jade was first to discover her powers. In alignment with her name, the student secratary was now able to turn herself to crystal, and everyone stared in awe as they watched her turn her hand, then her arms, and then, as it spread up her torso and to her head, her whole body to the semi-shiny green jade. A quick investigation found that, amazingly, she could still move even in jade form, though it made a sort of clinking, clomping noise when she walked. It was certainly a sight to behold. Though you couldn't see all the way through the jade, it was just translucent enough to reveal the veins just below the surface, which created blue, snaking lines that appeared to be cracks.
The rest ran through their powers in quick succession. Star had perfect aim, whether it was tossing a football or throwing a dart- certainly likely to be helpful during his football games. Paige could hover- probably even fly if she tried, but everyone decided caution was best for the moment. And Violet's power might have been the most interesting- anything she drew, she could bring to life. A handful of paper dinosaurs were running around the stands, due to her newfound power.
That night was looked back upon fondly by most, though it was certainly memorable to everyone there. Despite the pleasantness of it to the Contemporary cabin, such was not the case with those who developed weaknesses instead of powers. For every new power, there was a weakness. Some were as simple as new food allergies, but some were far more sinister. The cabin- now a group of heros- fought many who'd weaknesses had turned them vengeful and criminal.
The sunset began to sink on the heros that day, and it was certainly a beautiful one. Pink streaks, orange tinted clouds, and a reddish sun all left their paintings in the sky. The trees that were a distance from the field left dark silhouettes on the horizon, making it a picture perfect moment. That's not an exaggeration. THere is one perfect picture, taken of that moment. The cabin members are illuminated by the lights of the football field, standing on its charred grass. The dramatic sky behind them, they showcase their powers.
Star's holding a football proudly above his head, though not demonstrating his perfect aim, a quick glance at his beaming expression allows even a casual observer to consider why he's so happy. Jade looks like a clothed green statue, the camera light reflecting off the corners of her shiney smile. Leo is wearing their woven, metal, flower crown, an accessory that one might overlook at first sight, but one that everybody in the cabin knows the true importance of. Paige is hovering above all the rest, in the back row of the picture because she's so tall now. Lark has grown a full bouquet of the school's roses, and, careful to avoid the thorns, cradles them joyfully. And Violet had drawn herself a paper cat, which was currently asleep around her shoulders, making an interesting sort of shawl.
It was a purely joyous moment, then, though it wouldn't last.

Hello! Here’s my forum! https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/555137/?page=1#post-5748111

Chocolate Cake ran through the world of mangoes. They saw a banana tree and climbed to the top. Then, strawberry cows started mooing extremely loudly. Chocolate Cake covered their ears and fell off the banana tree and into the milk lake. Chocolate Cake swam out, and saw Vanilla Ice Cream.

“Oh, Vanilla Ice Cream!” they shouted. “You lifesaver! I've been stuck here for days.”

Vanilla Ice Cream stared at them. “I got lost here, too. Sorry to fail you.” Vanilla Ice Cream began to walk away.

Chocolate Cake sadly walked in the opposite direction. They began sobbing little chocolate tears.

“Awhhhhhhh!” Chocolate Cake fell into the blueberry lava.

“Arghhhhhh!” Chocolate Cake sunk down.. Deeper.. deeper.. even deeper.. At the deepest they could go, they went even deeper! To the very end of the lava.

Chocolate Cake swam out of the lava, which formed a stream to a giant lake.

“Freedom at last!” they shouted. They swam quickly out of the lake.

Then, they realized they were in The Lemon Desert. Chocolate Cake began to melt.

They saw a sugar puddle. The bounced and bathed in it. Splish splash! Splish splash!

They sighed. It was so much nicer in the puddle then in the desert. That's when Chocolate Cake realized that although they were in a puddle, they were still in the desert.

Chocolate Cake leaped out of the puddle dramatically. Then, they set off for Kiwi Village, their home town. They saw The Strawberry Ocean and created a raft made of Skittles. They created paddles with chocolate bars. Then, they sailed away.

Further..

Further..

Further..

Chocolate Cake went so far that they nearly passed Kiwi Village. They stopped the raft by pushing the chocolate into the marshmallow sand of the lake. They emerged from the river. Their family shouted.

“Chocolate Cake! You're home! We missed you!”

Chocolate Cake smiled and went home with their parents.

+ 315 words :)

when green flag clicked

say [+600 points for poetry!]

Here’s my forum - - >. https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/5746374/

Daily:
The streets of the Fudge Kingdom were dark as Detective Butterscotch roamed. She had gotten her hardest case yet just an hour earlier, and she intended to solve it. A young Chocolate Bar had been killed – sweetacide of the first degree. It had been messy, for he had been somewhat melted and had a bite out of him. The young Detective examined the alley she currently searched curiously. An odd shaped indent marked the wall of the Candy Cane Nursery Home. Fearing for the worst, she ran inside.
Butterscotch discovered melted dye on the ground. Red. It belonged to one of the old Candy Canes. The elders who lived in the home were known for two things: the scent of mint that always lingered over their space and their tendency for creating disarray. Panicking, Detective Butterscotch sprinted up the stairs, only getting stuck on the bubblegum stairwell once, impressively. She screamed when she entered the room.
The old candy canes were all white, no red dye left. Some were severed with bite marks and such. It was terrifying. Butterscotch ran as fast as she could, but there was no escape once she went in there. She could here a deep sound, like a voice, and a rustling that sounded as if it came from the sky. Every candy child heard the story of the Sugarless People, titan beings who fed upon innocent candies, but no rational member of society actually believed them. Until now, Butterscotch had denied it, proclaiming that they were just old children's tales. Until now.
What other explanation could there be, after all? She had found several of the Candy Canes and a Chocolate Bar bitten and chewed. She couldn't think of any other way. And she kept thinking it as she was picked up by the waist and placed inside a dark space.

Naomi loved candy. She chewed, smiling, for Halloween had just been yesterday. She licked her lips.
“Mmm, I love butterscotch.”

*raises hand* I have a question! So for the writing comp, could we still create a separate thread for our entry or would lf it have to be here/our forum?

-NightWrite- wrote:

*raises hand* I have a question! So for the writing comp, could we still create a separate thread for our entry or would lf it have to be here/our forum?

yep, we can

Cabin: Mystery || -ItzBrissy- || SWC November
*Will update when new activities come up*


First Daily: “Hm, let's see… April! Why don't you come up and share to us about what your favorite dessert is?” my teacher asked me, smiling brightly. I slowly gathered up my papers and walked up to the front of the classroom. As soon as I turned to face the class, I began feeling nervous; what if they laughed at my favorite dessert? Miss Summers smiled at me and I gave her a weak smile back. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at my paper; here went nothing. ‘Well, to start off with… My name is April. One of my favorite desserts is a chocolate fudge sundae.“ At this, I glanced up from my paper and could see that the class was intrigued. With newfound confidence, I put down the paper. If I truly liked this dessert, I wouldn’t need any paper to help me explain to the class why this was my favorite dessert. A girl from the back of the class raised her hand. ”Uh, yes?“ I asked, hoping I would be able to answer any question she had. ”What is the main reason you like chocolate fudge sundaes?“ she asked, lowering her hand. I let out a relieved sigh; this was something I could answer. ”Well, the main reason I like chocolate fudge sundaes is because of the way the warm chocolate tastes with the cold ice cream. I usually choose vanilla to go with the chocolate, but many people choose different ice cream flavors and types of chocolate, which is fine, too! The more variety, the better!“ I replied. The girl smiled, and I hoped she was satisfied with my answer. ”That's really cool! Is there any words you can use to describe a chocolate fudge sundae?“ she asked. I smiled. ”Of course! Some words I would use to describe a chocolate fudge sundae are chocolatey, delicious, warm and cold… Hmm, maybe ‘the best dessert in the world’?“ The class laughed, and it wasn't the type of laughter that's mean; it was the type of laughter that let you know they were laughing with you, not at you. I smiled; maybe presentations like these would't be so bad after all. Miss Summers smiled at me. ”Thank you, April. Wonderful presentation! You can go take your seat now,“ she told me. I nodded and gathered up my papers, then went back to my seat. ”And now… For today's lesson…"

Second Daily: “Oh Brissy! Come to the kitchen!” I heard my sister call out. I sighed and closed my math book. Guess that would have to wait a bit longer. “Yeah?” I asked, walking into the kitchen. As soon as I saw what was spread out on the counter, I stopped cold. “Oh no. No, no, no. You are most definitely NOT baking a cake, especially with our parents gone,” I told her, starting to gather up the ingredients. Yuli frowned. “But don't you know how to make a cake?” she asked. I shrugged. “Yep. You get your own money and buy one at the store,” I told her, putting away several spoons and bowls back where they belonged. As soon as I said that, I could tell the tears were coming. Quickly, I turned around and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Look. We can mix the cake batter and all, but you have to wait until mom and dad come back to turn on the oven, alright?” She nodded, and ripped open the bag of flour, which resulted in the flour making our hair look like we just came from the snowy mountains. “Oops,” she said, giggling. For the sake of keeping her happy, I forced a grin. Yep, this was totally fine! Especially since I just showered… I reached over for the cake mix. “How about we just use this instead? It'd be much easier, and it's very simple to use,” I suggested, taking away the bag of flour from her hands and handing her the cake mix. “Here. Now open the box CAREFULLY.” Yuli nodded and dug her fingernails under the box's lid, then ripped it open; just about as carefully as a little kid can do. Hey, at least she was trying! She handed the box to me and I dumped the contents of it into a bowl. Now came the mixing part. Hopefully, she'd do it the right way, unless she wanted me to mix it, which was highly unlikely. Yuli's eyes lit up as she looked into the bowl. “So, now I mix it?” she asked curiously. I nodded as I added some final ingredients in the bowl. “Yep. Just grab the- Hey, why'd you get a spoon?” I questioned her, watching her mix the contents in the bowl. Yuli rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. “To mix with, what else?” she answered. I sighed. Oh well. At least the spoon was safer than the actual mixer. A few minutes later, she set the bowl on the counter. “Done. Can we make popcorn now?” she asked, eyes filled with hope. I sighed. “ONLY popcorn. Grab one bag of popcorn and put it in the microwave for one minute and forty-five seconds,” I told her as I started rinsing off the dishes we had used. It wasn't very long until I heard several pops coming from the microwave. I turned at looked at Yuli, horrified. “What did you do?!” Yuli shrugged. “I put in forty-five bags of popcorn for one minute and one second, just like you told me to,” she said brightly. “Nooo!” I cried out. “I said put in ONE bag for ONE minute and FORTY-FIVE seconds!” I ran to the microwave and hit stop, then opened the microwave. The popcorn that came pouring out took me by surprise. “Argh!” I screamed. No, there was NO WAY I was going to be buried alive by popcorn, there was just no way. And of course, we had to clean this all up before our parents came home.

Third Daily: Words: hope, loss, parallelism, cliche || I feel like I have lost all hope of people becoming clones in my school. MacKenzie, the school's bully, is mainly to blame. I don't know what students see in her, but they all seem to adore her. They dress like her, act like her, and even try to talk like her! It's turning into a real cliche, and I'm sick of it; we should be no one else but ourselves, yet they're over there getting brainwashed by her! Whenever she walks by, a giant crowd behind her, I feel parallelism, a cold feeling spreading through out my fingers and down to my toes, from my fingers and to my toes, from my fingers and to my toes… The loss of almost half the school to MacKenzie is really devastating. But maybe there is hope. Because this is WAR. I will not let these innocent people be stuck with MacKenzie.

Fourth Daily: Lityerses blinked, opening and closing his eyes, trying to focus on his surroundings. He lay on a stone floor, much different to where he was before. He sat up, wincing from the effort. Nero, his boss, hovered over him, a demanding look on his face. “Well?” he demanded. “What is this place?!” Lityerses looked around. “I.. I don't know how we got here, sir,” he confessed to Nero. Nero scowled. “Just as I expected. Hmph,” he commented. Lityerses bit his lip, frowning. Nero turned to a few of his men and started giving them orders. “You! Get a map and figure out our location! And you! Try to contact the others!” he barked. His men nodded, hurrying off to do what he told them. Lityerses looked up. “Sir-” Just then, an ear-piercing shriek rang out from Nero, and Lityerses jumped up, ready to take action. “S-Sir…! What is it?!” he asked, heart racing. Nero cleared his throat. “Nothing… Mm, please, bring me that intruder,” he commanded, pointing at a medium-sized metal box. Lityerses hesitated before walking up to the box and scooping it off the floor. He blinked, expecting the box to attack or turn into some kind of monster, but nothing happened. He walked back to Nero and held out the box to him. Nero waved his hands. “Examine it for any dangerous weapons,” he told Lityerses. Lityerses nodded and examined the box from front to back, top to bottom, and side to side. Nothing there that he could see dangerous. Unless someone considered numbers on the front of the box an act of danger. “Nothing except numbers on buttons, sir,” he said at last, holding the box out to Nero. Nero eyed the box skeptically and reached out for it, taking it into his hands. “So, how does this work? I don't think I've ever seen anything like this in our world,” he mused, turning the strange box this way and that. Lityerses shrugged, then reached for the handle on the box. With a quick tug, a door to the box popped open, and Lityerses blinked. “Whoa,” he said, awestruck. Nero set the strange invention on a nearby table. “So, if it's a box like thingy.. It should be used to store stuff. Such as diamonds,” he commented, taking out a handful from his pocket. Lityerses turned to pick up another similar looking box, except this one had a tiny black screen above the numbers. “There's one more!” he called out to Nero, who had now closed the box and was clicking random numbers. “W-What are you doing…” he asked Nero hesitantly. Nero grinned. “This invention is genius! It's a perfect way to store my diamonds AND distress myself by pressing these buttons!” he replied gleefully. Lityerses gave a slight nod. “Understandable… I suppose,” he said after a moment of silence. Nero smirked, obviously pleased with the invention. “Exactly. Now, hand me that box,” he said, holding out his hand. Lityerses sighed in relief as he was freed from the weight of the box. Nero placed it on the table and took out a handful of cash. “And in this one, we put cash,” he said, stuffing the cash in the box and closing the door. Then, Nero began pressing random numbers. “I'm glad I made this amazing discovery-” he began to say, but paused when the box with a tiny black screen above the numbers made a *beep* sound. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the box, as if daring it to attack. Lityerses peered over Nero's shoulder and point at the box. “Look, a light when on inside… Ooh, now the money is spinning..!” he exclaimed. They watched the box in silence for about 5 minutes. Then, the box caught on fire, and Nero screamed, backing away from the box and jumping onto a nearby couch. “VILLAINY!” he yelled. “It's got fire powers!” Lityerses stumbled as he backed away from the box. He looked up at the box in horror. “Grab some water.!!!” he said in a hoarse voice. Nero glared down at him, eyes watering as smoke filled the room. “Y-You get the water.!!” he retorted, coughing. Lityerses squinted and aimed his finger at the box, or at least, what appeared to be the box, and water shot out from his fingertip, completely soaking Nero, and the two boxes. When the smoke finally cleared, Nero glared down at Lityerses. “Foolish! Do I look like a box?!” he shouted. Lityerses restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Was Nero seriously not going to thank him for saving his life?! He stood up and bowed slightly. “My deepest apologies, sir. I will try my best to make sure it never happens again,” he muttered. Nero huffed. “Well, you better be!” Lityerses ignored the comment and pointed to the other box. “Well, since you did lose some of your money to that box… Maybe you should just retrieve the diamonds before the same thing happens to them?” he suggested. Nero stormed to the box and attempted to yank it open. He tried to cast all sorts of magic spells to get it to open, but nothing worked. He sank into the couch and sobbed in despair; all his precious diamonds and money were gone. And in the background, Lityerses stood, trying hard to keep a serious expression on his face. || Credits to @witchcroft for the amazing idea!

Fifth Daily: “I’ve been alive for so long, and you’re the most annoying person I have ever met,” Laticon grumbled as he and Shade trekked through the dark roads. Shade smirked. “I mean, what I’m saying is true! You do have an interest in Nero-” he commented. “Quiet!” Laticon barked, turning his face away from a lamp post, making it hard to see his face. “We do not speak of that!” Shade shrugged as he followed Laticon to the door of a huge mansion. “Tell me again why we are at Nero’s house this late at night?” he asked Laticon. Laticon raised an eyebrow at Shade and knocked on the door. “Haven’t I told you multiple times already? We’re here to discuss business matters,” he answered, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. Shade squinted. “Are you sure the real reason isn’t because you just wanted to see him?” he questioned. Laticon scoffed. “Me, see him? Never. Besides, who do you think you are? I don’t think I hired you to ask me questions. Although, thank you for taking an interest in my wonderful life.” Shade rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Is the house really that big that it takes him a long time to open the door? Can’t he just have one of his men open it for him?” he wondered aloud. Laticon looked down at Shade. “Are you that dense? Why would he have one of his men open the door to his ally? That’s already a bad reputation,” Laticon told him, closing his eyes. Suddenly, the door flew open and Laticon stumbled backwards, falling into Nero’s arms. Nero peered down at Laticon and grinned. “You fell for me that quick?” he inquired. Laticon scowled. “Annoying! Both of you are annoying!” he exclaimed. Shade snickered. “Don’t mind him. He’s been having a temper tantrum ever since we began coming here,” he explained to Nero. Nero laughed. “Mmm, that explains it,” he commented, steadying Laticon into a standing position. “He does tend to be a little… dramatic.” Laticon turned around to face Nero. “Dramatic? Do I look like a dramatic person?!” he complained. Nero shrugged. “That’s confidential. Come on inside, we’re not going to stand out here forever,” he said, smiling at Laticon. Laticon reluctantly followed Nero inside his home, Shade following after them. “Hey, do you have any snacks?” Shade asked as he closed the door. “I’m hungry.”

First Weekly, Part 1: “I don't think we can…” he stopped, figuring out his choice of words. “You really shouldn't-” Shade sighed. “Mon amour, don't question me on my skills. Of course I can take out an entire army of soldiers by myself,” he bragged. “Just believe the stories.” At this, Xavier let out a sharp breath. “Shade, you don't even stand a chance against this army, let alone more if they call for backup!” he warned him, annoyed at Shade's cluelessness. Shade waved a hand in the air. “They won't be able to call backup by the time I'm done with them. Sit back and watch me win.” “Wait-!” Xavier called out to Shade as he ran into the battlefield. The soldiers turned to look at Shade, and immediately fired their weapons. Shade somehow managed to dodge them, but more were still coming. Xavier sighed in frustration; he'd have to step in now or risk losing Shade. Jumping into the battlefield, he sliced his sword at every soldier that dared to advance on him. “Come on!” he yelled, running past Shade and to a nearby exit. Shade, being helplessly outnumbered, turned and ran after Xavier. Outside, he gasped for breath. “T-That was close…” Xavier took several deep breaths and turned to glare at Shade. “Said you could end them all on your own, huh? Pfft, please. You couldn't even end one.” (Quick Note: Xavier is a character that hesitates before doing something. He also uses quick thinking in order to help someone in need . Shade is a character that thinks he is capable of doing anything . He doesn't think things through fully, nor about the consequences his actions might have.)

First Weekly, Part 2: Shade walked along the dark alley, hoping to find something of his interest. He peered around and saw no one in sight. He sighed. “There's nothing exciting to do around here these days…” he muttered to himself, kicking a pebble out of his way. A hooded figure appeared from what seemed to be out of nowhere. “Shade Raintamer… I have been watching you for quite some time now, and I'd like to say I'm impressed with your talent. You have a keen sense for what to do when you're stuck in a situation alone. I'm guessing you like to work alone?” the figure asked. Shade looked up. “I don't work alone, but yes, I'd prefer if I actually did. I have this partner who thinks he's greater than me at everything. Not too long ago, he dragged me out of a battlefield because I ‘could never defeat an army of soldiers all by myself,” he answered, scowling at the memory of it. The hooded figure smiled. “So what is it that you desire? To work alone, or have the glory of success to yourself?” Shade scoffed. “The glory of success all to myself, of course. It also wouldn’t hurt to work alone,” he added, thinking of all the things he could accomplish without a partner. The figure laughed. “Don't we all desire that? I'll tell you what. Come work for me,” they suggested, placing a hand on Shade's shoulder. Shade raises his eyebrows. “What's in it for me?” he asked. The figure smiled. “Almost anything you'd like. We can start off by having you work by yourself, and defeating the army of soldiers you mentioned earlier alone. That way, you have both the satisfaction and glory of doing what you desire most.” Shade pretended to think about this, although he already knew what his answer would be. Of course he wanted to work alone; that would mean more glory and praise for him on his victories, and no one else to share it with! He looked at the hooded figure in the eyes. “It's a done deal, then,” he said cooly. The figure grinned. “Great! Welcome to my side! I'm Laticon, it's nice to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand for Shade to shake. Shade nodded, and gripped Laticon's hand firmly, shaking it up and down. “Shade Raintamer, although you already know that. Nice to meet you, too,” he replied. Laticon hid a sly smirk on his face. “Should we discuss on what tactics you're going to use to defeat that army of soldiers?” he inquired, looking at Shade in interest. Shade shrugged. “I've got a plan. I think it'll work-” Laticon cut him off. “You think?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Or you know?” Shade smiled. “I know my plan will work.” Laticon laughed. “That, dear Shade, is how we do things here. We don't think things will work out. We know,” he told Shade. “Take that in mind.” Shade nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, giving Laticon a quick bow. Laticon nodded. “Just call me Laticon. I have a feeling we're going to get along great with each other,” he told Shade with a smile.

First Weekly, Part 3: (Villain's Looks) I want my villain to have a scar on his left cheek, not entirely visible, but it's still there. Maybe he'll have on a cheek bandage that covers it up, just to add a kid-look feeling. I'll have his eyes give off a cold, icy chill when you look into them; maybe they'll even be slightly narrow to add a feeling of mysteriousness. His eye color will be grey, an eye color not normally seen in the character's world. I want his clothing style to give off a kid-feeling, and also to give off a mysterious, maybe villain-ish feeling, too. To do this, I'll have my villain wear a white shirt with a black tie and a black sweater over it; however, the sweater will hang upon the villain's shoulder(s) and not actually be worn, and the tie will be worn loosely. I'll give him some black sleek jeans, and some shiny shoes to show that the villain admires all things new and expensive.
(Villain's Personality) I want my villain to be able to have some traits in common with my hero(s). For this, I'll make the villain's personality consist of being manipulative, merciless, intelligent, and sneaky/sly. For the villain's flaws, I'll add a minor flaw: he's obsessive when he takes an interest in something/someone and is desperate for power and/or wants to be the best.
(Backstory + Motives) I want the readers to hate the villain but also feel sympathy for him. Therefore, I'll make his backstory a tragic one: I'll have my villain's parent's death be because of heroes who were merciless (because, after all, some heroes are merciless when it comes to defeating a villain, therefore making us question whether or not they were truly heroes). His younger self was terrified of heroes, because he viewed them as the bad guys. But, as he grows older, he gains the self-confidence he needs to avenge his parent's death and wants to get rid of all heroes (this is his goal!).
(Villain's Impact On The Character) I want my hero and villain to be somewhat alike. The impact my villain will have on my character is becoming a different person than they originally were (bad!), and the hero is still the person they originally were (good!). The hero and villain know each other because of their past childhood friendship, which, of course, was before the villain's parents' death.
(Other Information) I'll have my villain's name be Laticon. This doesn't really have a specific meaning to it, although it might be because the name ‘Laticon’ isn't an overused name (this will be good for making my villain stand out!). I'll have my villain talk in a formal type of way, but also pause while talking, adding a suspense as to what his next words may be.

First Weekly, Part 4: I walked away from the dark alley and smiled to myself. Oh, how easy it was to trick those foolish heroes into working for me! That young hero, Shade Raintamer, wasn’t so easy to fool, but I at last managed to figure out his greatest desires: working alone and receiving all the compliments and success to himself. What a greedy hero. Too bad he doesn’t know that will soon be his downfall… I bumped into one of my soldiers as I hurried out of the alley. “Watch it!” I snapped, walking briskly to the coffee shop that was located nearby. Yes, it was a coffee shop, but it was no ordinary coffee shop. This shop was filled with my men working undercover to serve coffee to those ungrateful hero brats and regular mortals; it was also my hideout. I know, pretty genius of me, right? I walked into the shop and plunked down on a seat. It was midnight, and although the shop was open all day and night, no humans or heroes were to be seen. Hpmh, they’re all probably asleep. Except that Shade Raintamer kid. “Bring me my usual,” I told Nero, my most trusted ally. He frowned down at me, then walked to the back of the shop. Moments later, he came back with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. I grabbed the cup from him and set it on the table. “Well? Take a seat, we have things to discuss,” I told him, motioning to the chair in front of me. Nero sat down and glared at me. “I’d like you to know that I’m merely your ally, not one of your men. Have them do things for you,” he commented, frowning and taking a closer look at my face. “Wow… You look awful.” I pushed his face away from mine. “Yeah? How so?” I asked him, daring him to continue. He smirked at me. “You look like you have just been dumped in a bath of dirt, grime, and foolishness. What have you been up to?” he questioned. I rolled my eyes at him and gave him a playful smile. “Oh, Nero. Lovely words, as always. And, if you must know, I’ve been pretty busy trying to recruit a hero to my side,” I replied, taking a sip of my coffee. Nero sighed. “I take it you were unsuccessful?” he inquired, fingering the handle of my coffee mug. I looked at him, not quite sure if he was joking or not. The playful gleam in his eyes told me he was. I laughed. “Oh, quiet. When have I failed to do so? Besides, this hero, Shade Raintamer, shows potential. He’s probably the only hero awake right now, wandering the dark alleys,” I told him, prying his fingers off my cup. “Shoo. Get your hands away from my cup, you’ll make it upset.” Nero laughed. “Alright, then. What’d you do to make him work for you?” I shrugged. “Well, it was pretty easy to find out what it was he desired most: working alone and receiving the glory that comes with success all to himself. I told him he’d receive all that if he worked for me. After all, don’t I treat my workers well?” I asked Nero, taking a hundred dollar bill from my pocket and placing it in the center of the table. “See? I’m generous with my money.” Nero shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Heh. You’re such a show-off. Have you thought about what task Shade is going to receive as one of your workers?” he said, playing around with my fingers. Hpmh. What a jerk; nonetheless, I didn’t move my fingers, and I couldn’t help thinking why. Could it be…? No, there was no way I was falling for one of my allies…! “Laticon. LATICON!” Nero shouted, snapping me back to reality. “Huh, what…?” I asked, looking around. Nero sighed. “Laticon, as I was saying, have you thought about what task you’re going to assign Shade?” he repeated. I shook my head, “Mm, no. Why? Have you got any ideas?” I said, forcing myself to concentrate. Nero grinned. “Yep. I was thinking you could assign him the task to go out and perhaps take out an army of heroes alone?” he suggested, gripping my fingers tightly. I pretended not to notice and thought about it. “Hmm…. I suppose that could work,” I said slowly. “After all, he would like to work alone, and if he does manage to somehow get rid of the army of heroes, the glory that will come with it will motivate him to do more things like that… He might even get rid of all the heroes in the world by himself!” Nero nodded, no doubt admiring my quick thinking. “I say you should go along with it. Besides, you obviously will. There’s no doubt that my plans are genius, even you couldn't come up with them,” he mused. I snatched the newspaper he held in his other hand, which I just noticed, and bonked him on the head with it. “Don’t get too excited, mon amour. Now, what is this all about?” I wondered aloud, unrolling the newspaper and reading the front page title. “Mystery Arises: A Villain or a Hero? Not too long ago, an unknown boy quickly steps into a battle between heroes and villains and quickly takes them all down. Who’s side is he on; the hero’s or the villain’s? Investigator Wonderwalker states, ‘It’s not determined who’s side he’s on; however, he will be a perfect target for both heroes and villains. They’ll most likely want him on their side, and it’s not surprising that they do; this young boy shows both great skills and surprising knowledge on both villains and heroes in order to defeat them. Many suspect his name is Shade Raintamer, and his status, whereabouts, and information on him is unknown…’” I set down the paper. “Hm, looks like Shade has caused quite some trouble around the area… Good thing we have him on our side.” I grinned, and Nero laughed. “Well done, mon amour, well done,” he said. “You really are living up to your reputation.”

Weekly #2, Warmup #1: Art. What does this word make you think of? Perhaps it makes you think of a large white canvas, and you imagine yourself filling in those white spots with bright, vivid colors, or perhaps more darker ones… Maybe the word art makes you think of a landscape scene; perhaps you enjoy nature? Or maybe you think of art as a giant collaboration between millions of people to create one big lovely painting. Whatever you think of art, it is truly a wonderful thing. If you find yourself staring down at a blank piece of paper or a canvas, don't feel stressed about what to draw or paint on it! Art is a way to be you, and it helps you express yourself and your feelings. Now, the next time you come across a blank piece of paper, sit down and draw whatever comes into your mind; as long as, of course, the paper isn't your homework!

Weekly #2, Warmup #2: Can anybody hear me when I'm screaming from the ground? He's chasing me and he won't stop; he's too fast I'm running for my life.. He keeps telling me to slow down… I'm running through the several shops in the mall, screaming for help; everyone's reaching for me, they're not gonna help me…! || You'll be back; we've been through it all! Don't complain when I am gone for it will all be your fault! Don't you know you're my favorite subjects? My sweet royal subjects? Don't you leave for the sake of eternal peace! I want you as much as you need me!

Weekly #2, Fiction #1: “Dad! Dad!” Shadow cried out, running towards her father at top speed. “Look what I found!” Her father turned and spread his arms open as she skidded to a stop in front of him. “Look!” she exclaimed, thrusting forward a single rose at him, it's petals somehow still intact. Her father took the rose in his hands and surveyed their surroundings. “You.. found this here?” he asked her, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Shadow nodded proudly. “Isn't it pretty?!” she exclaimed. Her father nodded. “It indeed it pretty, my dear. Is it alright if I keep this flower for my research? I'm sure you can probably find some more flowers like this one around here,” he told her. Shadow frowned, then shrugged. “You can keep it! I'll go look for more!” she replied, running of into the ruins. Her father watched her run off, then turned his attention to the rose in his hands. “A single rose in the ruins… If this is what I think it is… That means Nico Rose was here,” he muttered to himself. Somewhere in the ruins, Shadow crouched down and observed some strange little creatures running towards a hole in the dirt, a leaf being carried above their heads. She looked at them curiously, wondering what kind of creatures these were. They were so small…! She stood up quickly, and started to run back to the open clearing where her father was; she was sure he knew something about these creatures! Or better yet, what the were. Just as she was about to burst into the clearing, she stopped suddenly. There came the voice of her father speaking to someone, and she knew it was best not to interfere. Quietly, she ducked behind a fallen column and listened to what her father was saying. He appeared to be talking to someone on the phone. “Yes… I'm telling you, she found a single rose! We both know what this means, and if it really was him who was here are some point…” he paused, perhaps listening to the person on the other side of the phone. “Yes, yes, she is with me right now… I'll stop by the Cafe later at midnight. We can further discuss things there,” he said at last, then ended the call after a few moments. Shadow quietly tiptoed away from the clearing; she didn't want to risk being seen. Suddenly, her father started calling out her name. “Shadow! Shadow! Where are you?” he called out, looking around the clearing. Shadow stopped mid-way and scrambled up the fallen column. “Right here dad!” she called back to him, waving on hand in the air as she ran towards him. He turned and smiled at her, “Did you find any more flowers or petals?” he asked. Shadow shook her head. “Nope! But I did find these little strange creatures…” she told him, grabbing hold of his hand as they walked off into the distance together.

Weekly #2, Fiction #2: It all started with a cup of coffee. Or more precisely, now that I think about it, it started at Coffee Cafe. It was just a normal day. Or, as normal as it can get if you’re a villain like the workers at Coffee Cafe. Before I confuse you even more, let me explain how it is possible. You see, Coffee Cafe isn’t run by regular humans; it’s run by villains’ men. Humans, heroes, and villains alike all come here daily, whether it is to order a quick coffee or to study. Either way, the basic and main idea is that it’s run by villains. Got it? Good. Now we can get on with the real story. Laticon was sitting at our usual table, reading today’s newspaper. As I walked by him, he lifted a finger up in the air. “Bring me my usual, would you?” he said, not lifting his gaze from the paper. I frowned down at him, wondering if he even noticed it was me he was talking to and not one of his men. Nonetheless, I went into the back kitchen and started making him his usual coffee. As I poured the coffee into a mug, I grinned slightly. There was no harm in adding a little design to the coffee, was there? I grabbed a bottle of latte and gently poured it over the coffee, making a heart. I smirked and grabbed the cup of coffee, then headed to the table where Laticon was seated. Upon hearing my footsteps, Laticon glanced up from the newspaper and smirked. “Since when did you deliver coffee?” he asked, taking the cup from my hands. I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s just out of friendship. Don’t get too excited,” I told him, plopping down on the chair facing opposite of him. Laticon stayed silent, observing the latte art. Now that I think about it, he wasn’t staying silent; he was completely ignoring me! I crossed my arms across my chest and glared at him. Finally, he stood up and walked over to me, leaning in real close. “You make great art, my dear. Next time, maybe add our names inside the heart?” he whispered. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling sick at that time, but my heart suddenly beated a little faster. Laticon walked back to his chair and sat down on it, leaning back. He looked at me, giving me a lopsided grin. “That comment, dear Nero, wasn’t out of friendship.”

Cabin War #1: Laticon lay awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was barely 4:45 am, and he had nothing to do. Nero was asleep in his room, and Laticon wondered if Nero would be up to go to Coffee Cafe. They spent most of their mornings there, and what better time to go to the Cafe than right now? He got up and walked into the hallway, shivering. It wasn’t cold, no. Nero’s house was just so… big. Laticon reached for the doorknob to Nero's room and turned it. He expected Nero to be there, but he wasn’t. Turning on the light, he approached his bed and found a sheet of paper on it. “Went out to get something. Be back soon, and beware of the monsters,” he whispered to himself as he read the note. Monsters…? Surely Nero must have said it as a prank. He set the note back on the bed and started walking towards the door. As soon as he was about to leave the room, the door shut in his face and he heard the lock click. A hand appeared on his shoulder, clutching him tightly. Laticon screamed, getting away and edging close to Nero’s bed. “W-Who’s there…?!” he called out, unable to hide his fear. Nobody replied, and a figure appeared in front of Laticon reaching out for him. Laticon, filled with fear, backed up into a wall as the figure approached him. The figure placed both hands on the wall and leaned towards Laticon, revealing his face. “Boo,” Nero whispered, grinning. Laticon screamed and whacked Nero on the face. Upon seeing who it was, Laticon gasped in horror and ran towards Nero. “Nero..! I-I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to-” he said, fumbling with his words. Nero laughed. “It’s alright. At least I managed to scare you,” he replied, holding his hand out to Laticon. “Would you like to accompany me to Coffee Cafe?” Laticon rolled his eyes, a faint smile flickering on his face. “Let’s go.”
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After some well needed coffee, Nero sat in his chair across from Laticon, watching him rest his face on the table. “I told you to drink some coffee, but do you listen to me?” He reprimanded him. Laticon glanced at Nero, face pale. “I think I’m going to be sick-” he muttered. Nero shook his head. “That’s why you don’t order anything you’re not supposed to eat. I mean, sure, it’s edible, but we’re meant to eat human flesh or drink coffee. Nothing else,” he told Laticon. Laticon his mouth with his hand. “Can you not give me a lecture right now?” he complained.
“I’m trying to be sick in peace.” Nero rolled his eyes and reached his hands across the table to play with Laticon’s hair. “Has anyone ever told you how soft your hair is?” he asked Laticon, twirling a strand around his finger. Laticon shrugged. “No. Why would they, if I don’t let anyone touch my hair?” he inquired, tapping a finger on the table. Nero raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re letting me touch your hair?” he replied, attempting to curl the strand of hair. Laticon laughed. “That’s different. And don’t try to curl my hair, you’re going to mess up the fantastic style I have,” he mumbled. Nero tousled Laticon’s hair and reluctantly let go of Laticon’s hair. Laticon suddenly stood up, mumbled something, and ran to the restroom. Nero sighed. “That guy never listens…” he said to himself. From afar, he noticed someone staring at him, and he stiffened. An investigator. There was no doubt about it that he had his suspicions about Laticon being a ghoul. And that was not a good thing at all. Nero lowered his gaze quickly, heart pounding. He had to keep Laticon safe. Laticon finally came out from the restroom and gave Nero a weak smile. “Sorry about that,” he said. Nero nodded, watching as the investigator got up from his table, a sandwich in his hand. He started approaching Nero and Laticon’s table, and finally arrived. Nero gulped as Laticon looked up. The investigator smiled down at Laticon. “Hello. I saw you were feeling unwell, and I’m sure this sandwich would help you greatly,” he said, holding out the sandwich to Laticon. Nero saw Laticon hesitate; no doubt he knew this person was a ghoul investigator. “T-Thank you, but I’m alright now, honestly…” he began. The investigator thrust the sandwich in Laticon’s face. “No, please, do have a bite. I insist,” he replied, a smug smile appearing on his face. Laticon reached out for the sandwich shakily. Closing his eyes, he took a bite out of the sandwich, chewing it quickly. The investigator noticed the sudden change in color in Laticon’s face and withdrew a radio. “Please stay seated until we complete your eradication process.” Laticon sat still, numb with fear. Nero scowled and stood up, grabbing Laticon’s hand and running out of the Cafe with him. Nero glanced back, and ran faster when he saw the investigator after them. The investigator paused for a moment, and soon appeared behind Nero and Laticon. Laticon looked back in horror as the investigator grabbed Nero and pulled him back. “Nero..!” he cried out, stopping to turn back. Nero struggled against the investigator. “Laticon… Keep running!” he shouted. Laticon hesitated, then turned and closed his eyes, continuing to run away from the investigator. He continued running until he at last reached Nero’s home. He ran inside, locked the door, and ran up to Nero’s bedroom. Throwing himself into Nero’s bed, he curled himself up into a little ball and started crying, not quite sure why. He knew it had something to do with Nero, and he didn’t like seeing him hurt. As tears streamed down his face, he finally figured out why he was crying; he loved Nero. He loved him so much it hurt to see him being taken away. And he did all that just to keep him safe…
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The front door creaked open, and Nero walked in, locking it behind him. It was now 6 am, and he wondered where Laticon had run to. He went upstairs to his room, hoping to figure out where Laticon currently was. When he stepped into his room, he raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of Laticon hugging his pillow, asleep on the bed. He smiled in relief; at least he knew where Laticon was now. He approached the bed quietly. Laticon stirred, and blinked open his eyes. He focused his gaze on Nero and smiled. “Y-You’re okay…” he said, before closing his eyes and falling back asleep. Nero smiled down at him. “I’ll be strong for you, Laticon.”

Weekly #2, Nonfiction #1: If you’re an author, writer, or a part of SWC, you’ve probably heard this saying multiple times: quality over quantity. Honestly, I strongly believe that this is true. Imagine if someone asks you to read their story, but the quality of it is terrible. The plot of the story doesn’t make sense, there are many spelling and grammar mistakes, and overall, the story isn’t interesting enough. Let’s say the story has about 3,000+ words in it. Now, imagine that a different person comes up to you and asks you to read their story. The story has a good plot, there are no spelling or grammar mistakes, and the story is very interesting. Now, let’s say that this story only has 200+ words. Not that many words, but the story itself was outstanding. Does this explanation make sense to you? Does it perhaps help you understand how important quality over quantity is? If you want people to enjoy your story and ask for more parts to your story, you have to keep in mind that quality over quantity will help you! Sure, you see many stories that many people write that include tons and tons of words. But have you ever thought about the quality of the story? After reading the story, did it make you want to find out more, or want the author to continue the series? Or did you get bored halfway through? These are just some ways quantity over quality can affect your stories and writing skills, so it’s best to choose good quality stories to write about! Here’s an unrelated example to writing about quality over quantity: Let’s say you’re a celebrity kid that just transferred to a new school. Tons of people want to be your friend, and the main reason they want to is because of your money and/or your popularity. Wouldn’t it just be better if you have one or two loyal friends who don’t just want to be your friend because of those reasons? When you focus on quality over quantity, you will most likely achieve greater things in your life. Always make sure that anything you do, make, or have has a good amount of quality. Quantity may seem important to you at times, but as an aspiring writer, let me tell you that it surely is not; quality is more important than quantity! Here is an example of quality: You have a report you have to do. Therefore, you spend your free time researching your topic. Another example would be doing your chores. Sure, you may complain about them, but in the end, you can enjoy the fact that your hard work paid off towards a clean house! Do you realize how quality over quantity also matters not just in writing, but in real life? So, next time you write a story, essay, or informational report (remember, it doesn’t have to be just that! It can also be school projects, homework, chores… basically anything!), please make sure to keep that saying in mind, quality over quantity. I’ve said this multiple times, and I’ll say it again: quality is much more important! Yes, we all know authors, writers, and SWC campers may just want to complete their word goal (if they have one!). But make sure you write interesting stories that will help you reach your word goal. Trust me, it will all be worth it in the end! Don’t just write stories to add the words to your word count; write them to have fun and enjoy yourself! Then, the words that you add to your word count will be more meaningful! And without a doubt, it’ll make you feel proud. Keep being inspired!

Weekly #2, Nonfiction #2: Attention ‘SWC Daily’ readers! Today we are talking about the Mystery Cabin, and from the looks of it, they seem to be in a pretty tight spot! Currently, they are in 3rd place out of 14 (excluding Mystery) other cabins, and they’re trying to get higher every second. I’m sure we are all surprised by the fact that Mystery has not fallen down a few ranks, especially after being bombarded with multiple cabin wars. However, we do have a few words from a Mystery co-leader and a Mystery camper, both saying how this is possible. The first few words are from one of Mystery’s co-leaders, Minty. “One of our campers in the Mystery cabin has already participated in 3 cabin wars, making sure we do not lose our 3rd place rank,” she says. “The most surprising thing was when she finished writing a story with over four thousand words in order to finish a word war from non-fi all by herself.” Next, we have a few words by a Mystery camper, Butter. “I truly consider Brissy Mystery’s savoir. In just three hours, she was able to write a story with over four thousand words to complete a cabin war all by herself,” they say. “Originally, we had each planned to do around two thousand words each in order to complete the war. After typing up around half of my part for the cabin war, I went to the Mystery cabin to see if Brissy had hopefully finished her part; turns out she actually did the part for both of us!” We’re all quite sure the rest of the Mystery cabin members will be just as surprised as Minty and Butter. And now, here are a few words from none other than Brissy herself. “I just had some extra motivation to complete the war by myself,” she said when asked how she accomplished such a thing. “It also helped that I had just finished reading a book five minutes before the war was posted, which helped give me inspiration to write the story. That, and along with the fact that I needed to have the story complete for my writing class before Monday.” This was Brissy’s response, and we think we can all be inspired by her words to read a book in order to look for inspiration to write your next (or current!) story! And now, we’re continuing with typical talk in the Mystery cabin… Up first, we have a talk between Minty and Brissy:
Minty: “I NEED A BREAK EVERY 150 WORDS OR SO I know I’m pathetic xD”
Brissy: “xD no, no, no that’s not pathetic at all! Take breaks when necessary, they’re really important <33”
Minty: “Yeahh, that’s true. But bird disagrees, he thinks he’s got to be with me 24/7 lol”
Brissy: “Take him on break with you >”
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And now, here’s a talk that occurs with a couple of our Mystery campers when a cabin war has been declared:
Sandy-Dunes (Thriller): “It looks like your shield is down (the last war was commented 3 hours ago?) so here's a war from Thriller! “Cabin Wars! Four people have to write 1000 words each. This has to occur in the next 8 hours, or lose 950 points. Extra challenge: you must use two characters, no more, no less. Yes, animals count as a character. You will be rewarded with 50 extra points each (totaling 200).””
Sea: “>“
Butter: “I’ll be one, now we need 3 more”
Sea: “I’m another ”
Brissy: “Working on it :’)”
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Suburban-darkness (Non-fi): “hi again :] “Cabin Wars! Your cabin must write 4000 words in the next 5 hours, or else lose 800 points. Extra challenge: every piece of writing must be done in 2nd person, to win 100 points.””
Butter: “w h y”
Brissy: “*internal screaming* This is fine. Completely fine. Totally not planning revenge on you at all…!”
(Result): Brissy asked for a new set of fingers, but instead got suburban-darkness’s soul as payment. This was the war she ended up doing by herself.
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Hoppingidiota (Real-fi): “Hello enemies! How might you be? You know what, let’s skip the nice talk “Cabin Wars! Four people have to write 1000 words each. This has to occur in the next 8 hours, or lose 950 points. Extra challenge: you must use two characters, no more, no less. Yes, animals count as a character. You will be rewarded with 50 extra points each (totalling 200).”
Brissy: “NO NO THIS CHALLENGE AGAIN I WILL PUNISH YOU FOR YOUR CRIMES /j”
Butter: “LET ME FINISH WITH THE OTHER ONE FIRST”
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And that is all we have for today! Please make sure to check out more of our copies! (Credits to @YorkiesAreAmazing123 for the idea!)


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Main Cabin Daily 11.2.21
Favorite dessert? Hmm, I’m not sure about that one. Probably those chocolate chip cookies we picked up at the supermarket the other day, mmm, yes, those were absolutely delicious. Oatmeal chocolate chip, with the perfect amount of chewiness and chocolate chips, with that wonderful texture of oatmeal added in… But of course, there are other deserts as well. Chocolate ice cream, a classic summer treat. Like chocolate chip cookies, but cold and creamy, the perfect cooling treat, it’s a must-have for the summer. Oh, chocolate, my beloved, truly the most delicious treat out there. There’s just so much chocolate can inspire, too. Imagine, a digital art piece, centered around chocolate? That’s something that should go right onto the drawing to-do list, something I should create. And let’s not get started on Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. A chocolate haven, chocolate beyond your wildest dreams. I’m ranting, aren’t I. Whoops. Time to write something inspired by chocolate so I can actually hit the word limit.

She walked along the sidewalk, shivering slightly in the cold November air. The fluffy cream-colored jacket she had thrown on helped to keep her from freezing, and the warm cup of hot chocolate she cupped in her hands definitely helped. The aroma of the drink wafted from the cup and made her smile, slightly. Hot chocolate was her favorite drink, especially in the colder autumn and winter months, and her entire look seemed to reflect that. Chocolate hair and hazelnut eyes, creamy jacket, and a pale brown shirt underneath, all tying together into a nicely-colored chocolate-themed outfit. The cool autumn breeze blew some leaves off the nearby trees, landing behind her on the sidewalk. She shivered again and took a sip of her hot chocolate. The warmth of the creamy drink filled her body, and she continued walking.

Daily: 11/2/2021 (mm/dd/yyyy)

What makes desserts so special? The butter. What makes them taste just right? The perfect amount of spices, salt, sugar and brown sugar. Everything about them is magical. They have such life that nobody would know if they were forced to live without those delicious baked goods.

Nanaimo bars are incredible. Their buttery flavor is life. Their texture is heavenly. The bottom layer is a delicious coconut, with crushed graham crackers, cocoa powder that adds that richness that it needs, and the hunk of butter in that layer itself. It’s perfectly textured, and it brings life to the body.
Then there’s the middle layer, it’s a custard with more butter. It’s the softest layer of the three, and it melts in your mouth perfectly. It adds that light and fluffy sweetness that no one can deny is practically perfect.
And now we have come to the final layer. The layer is melted chocolate, with almost as much butter melted in. It hardens in the fridge, giving the bar a whole goodness, and as you eat it it melts into your mouth and over your fingers.
If you have never tried Nanaimo bars, this is your sign to do so.

Brownies… they have such beauty. Not only is eating their batter one of the most magical things in the world, but eating the fully cooked product is *chef’s kiss*. The ones I make most are gluten free, and they have the most amazing texture. I love adding coconut flakes to them which adds that texture that is to die for. The slightly crispy crunch you get from the edge, with the softness of the center, and the melty chocolate of the chocolate chips. AaAaA it’s too good.

There’s something special about the uncooked batter of chocolate chip cookies. No matter if you’re the hugest choc-chip fan, or one who only likes them once in a while, “chippy dough” as my family calls it, is right for you. The texture is so soft and buttery, the color tinted slightly tan from the brown sugar, with the beautiful chocolate chips mixed in throughout it. The flavors are life. They bring your senses to life. They wake you up when you’re tired, they bring you a smile when you’re feeling down, they bring you back to earth when you’re feeling nervous, and they bring your family together in a way you might never know if you don’t try it. After eating half the batter or more, you can cook the rest if you desire, but most likely you’ll find there is not enough left to do so. Eat it away if that’s what you choose. It’s worth it, trust me.

Reese’s chocolate bark. You must try it. There’s no reason you haven’t tried it yet. It’s life. So basically, the bottom layer is peanut butter mixed with some powdered sugar, butter, and a few other things to make this creamy peanutty layer that tastes incredible. Then we have the next layer, which is so amazing it’s to die for. What it is, is a mix of butter and chocolate chips, melted ‘till it’s smooth and creamy, then poured evenly over the peanut butter layer. After that, we have chopped up mini Reese's cups and Reese's pieces which are sprinkled over the whole thing. Put this in the fridge, then break it up and eat it. That’s it. It’s that easy, and that good. The flavors of the peanut butter with the chocolate bring life, and the Reese’s just add that texture and flavor that is unlike any other.
594 words
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November 5th, daily.

He huffed, anger written across his face. “I’ve told you, just let me in and I’ll know what happened.”
The police officer shook her head, hands folded across her chest. “I’m sorry, but we can’t let you in here. This is a crime scene and until the place has been properly investigated by the authorities, no one is allowed within the area.”
“Look, I’ve already told you I’m not in here for anything but to help you. If you let me past where other people are allowed, I’ll know exactly what happened with the murder, who did it, why, when, how, and whatever else you need to know. Just let me in!” The man seemed to be ready to just charge past the barricades, but he was held back by something mental that wouldn’t let him unless he was allowed.

“Please leave, sir. We can’t have you come in here, so it’s no use trying. Goodbye.” She started to turn around but a noise to her right caught her off guard as soon as she had her back turned to the man. Her head darted to the right, towards where the sound had come from and she headed towards it in an instant, not sure what had happened, as she didn’t see anything suspicious.

Though the man was held back by his urge to follow the rules, he decided to ignore his conscience for the moment and climb under the tape telling him to keep out. The moment his shoes touched the ground on the other side of the tape, his mind was filled with information about the murder which he had known nothing about a few moments ago.

“Officer, I can tell you what happened.” He said, quickly striding towards a cop who seemed to know what he was doing there.

–

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true! This is the second time it’s happened to me.” The man from the crime scene was saying to a woman sitting across from him at a table in a large expensive restaurant. The chandelier above them hung innocently, making the scene seem more dramatic.
“Just because you get lucky doesn’t mean anything. You’ve got to admit, you knew nothing before you stepped into the area you weren’t supposed to be… Maybe it was magic or something, someone who put a spell on you that whenever you did something you knew you weren’t supposed to do you knew each detail about it. “ She hid a smirk. “That can’t be too crazy of an option, can it?”
The man didn’t try so hard at hiding his smirk. “I don’t know everything about you and I’m not so sure being with you here now is the right thing for me to be doing.” He gave a small chuckle. “You can’t expect me to believe it’s something magic related. Maybe it’s just that I’m smart, or I know things. I might just instinctively be able to figure things out.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Sure. You can be the smartest man in the world. That makes sense. Me, a normal young lady meeting the man who figures all crimes out as soon as he goes where he’s not supposed to be. I’m not that lucky, am I?” She seemed to want him to say something he wasn’t up to saying, maybe ‘I love you’?
“You might be.” The man finally said, and the woman seemed to take a hesitant breath. “Let’s meet again soon, shall we?”
This obviously wasn’t what the woman was hoping for, but she gave in anyway. “I guess that would be nice.”

They scheduled a date for them to see each other again, deciding that if the man had solved at least two more crimes the way he had done the previous two, she would agree that there truly was something special about him.

–

“This just in, man solves crimes in an instant. Let’s get a better look.” A reporter said on television, and the screen changed from her to the man from the crime scenes. It showed his eyes as soon as he stepped onto the area he knew he shouldn’t be at, there was an immediate change that no one could identify. He obviously knew what had happened in his body language change. From being a nervous man who really didn’t want to break the rules, then suddenly he knew each detail as to what had happened.

“Do you think this talent is here to stay, or do you think you’ll only be able to solve all of our crimes temporarily?” Another reporter said, thrusting her mic towards the man.
He was a little startled, but he regained his composure and spoke. “I don’t know. As far as I know this could all be a dream and I might wake up at any minute and realize I’m just any normal person again.” Inside he almost wished he could wake up. The chaos of having to deal with people constantly seeing him and realizing who he was and fangirling was too much by that point. He momentarily thought of saying something about his wish to be normal, but the thought escaped his mind in a moment’s notice when he thought of the girl he had promised to meet that night. “I’ve got to go, I’m sorry!” And he was off, escaping from the crowd to quickly return home to prepare for his date.
906 words
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First weekly, part one

COUSINNAMEHERE blinked twice. The world he was used to was back in view. He had come back from somewhere he knew nothing about, and being back in his hometown was more exciting than he could describe. His mind suddenly went to MCNAMEHERE. He had to go talk to her, suddenly he understood it all, all those crazy fairy-tale stories she told when she was young were suddenly falling into place.

After COUSINNAMEHERE pumped his legs, running from the edge of the neighborhood over to the house his cousin lived in, he was quite out of breath. The trees seemed to glide by him as his legs took him where he needed to go; it almost seemed like he didn’t have control of them, they just knew where he wanted to be.

MCNAMEHERE quickly ran to answer the knock at the door. “COSINNAMEHERE, hi, come on in, what’s up?” MCNAMEHERE said, pulling the boy through the doorway and into her parents’ house.
“I belive you. I went where you went. Remember, when you were six?” Nothing seemed to spark anything in MCNAMEHERE’s mind until ‘when you were six’, and at that moment her hand flew over her mouth that dropped open.

“No.” Was the word MCNAMEHERE spoke as soon as she had gotten her thoughts together. “That was a dream, I was sure of that. I got lost and fell asleep, got very relaxed and didn’t wake up for two days. That’s all! You must’ve been dreaming too. You know you can have a wild imagination sometimes.”
It sounded more like MCNAMEHERE was trying to convince herself of these facts than her cousin.
“No, MCNAMEHERE, you have to listen to me: I went there. I saw it. It all lines up.” COUSINNAMEHERE looked at a slight angle downwards towards his ten year old cousin, and MCNAMEHERE looked up at him.
“This can’t be true.” She said, sounding pretty sure of herself, though there was a hair of doubt. “This sounds just like something you’d do on the first of March as a prank.” Then she changed it to, “something anybody’d do on March first. Nobody believed me then, why would you bring it up now?”
“Trust me, I went there- I saw it all- I felt that… I don’t know what you called it back when you saw it all, but I know what you meant.” COUSINNAMEHERE paused, let out a slight sigh, then said, “what would you say if I told you I had proof?”
MCNAMEHERE glared at him. “There’s no way you could have proof, so I woldn’t believe you.”
“Come ‘ere.”

COUSINNAMEHERE pulled her away from the doorway they never got any further away from and towards the girl’s room. When he got there, he closed the door and locked it.

“Alright, so you have to be quiet about this, I don’t want people to know we went there anymore. It’s history for you, and you’re the only one I’m telling about my trip there. Got it?” COUSINNAMEHERE had an odd seriousness in his tone that made MCNAMEHERE a bit intrigued, but she rolled her eyes and nodded never-the-less.
COUSINNAMEHERE reached into his back pocket and pulled something into his hand and closed it into a fist. “Ready?” He said, and MCNAMEHERE told him he was just being dramatic.

COUSINNAMEHERE opened his fist and for a moment MCNAMEHERE didn’t think this was anything special, but then she noticed the color…

He was holding a purple-pink RECTANGLETHINGY.
578 words
Also please note that the above is very very VERY unfinished and as you can see, I don't even have names for my main character nor for my second character lol. So yeah ignore that xD
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First weekly, part two

MCNAMEHERE took a breath, relaxing as she sat by the edge of a lake, feeling the wind rushing through her hair, the slightly chilly weather making her relaxed. COUSINNAMEHERE was sitting beside his cousin, just as calm as she was, a small smile on his face.

The scene was one of total relaxation. Cousins just chilling together, enjoying each other’s company and getting some time to breathe in the fresh air. The scattered trees that were somewhere from twenty to thirty feet apart and away from them were blowing gently in the breeze, the wind whistling through the leaves making a soft noise they both had grown to love so much. The green grass beneath their hands felt almost soft, not uncomfortable like some grass can be, but almost comforting.

The relaxing atmosphere was broken suddenly when three people appeared out of nowhere a few feet to the left of the cousins. They two jumped up instantly, noticing the color of their RECTANGLETHINGIES.

The man in the center stood taller than either of the cousins, probably three or four inches above six feet. His black unkempt hair blew in the wind along with his baggy olive green pants. His shirt was a dusty gray and was quite fitted against his muscular body. He obviously was proud of the work he had done at the gym. His left hand had a tightly clenching glove covering it, while his right held a small knife, made of the orchid-ish colored RECTANGLETHINGIES from the second realm. He wore black high-top sneakers, and seemed to think he was the most important person around by the way he stood. His posture told them he was in charge of something large in the middle realm, though what that could be neither of them knew. The man dominated the area with his presence and expected authority over the situation.

“We’ve seen that you two have both gone to the second realm, but went no further. We’ve come to change that. If you’ve been to the middle, we take you to the end.” The stranger’s voice averted the same dominance that his stance did.
“I’m sorry?” MCNAMEHERE said, expecting an explanation. MCNAMEHERE had stepped mostly in front of her cousin, making sure he was still able to see what was happening, yet protecting him from their intruders. She was one to always protect the ones she loved, and she didn’t want her beloved cousin to get hurt.

“We don’t accept your apology. You must come with us.” The man turned to the man by his side and signaled something that he understood and gave a nod to before disappearing. The authoritative man then turned to the woman on her other side and gave her a different signal, to which she did the same as the first.
A moment went by where the cousins weren’t sure what was going on, nothing seemed to be happening, the man was just standing there in front of them not saying a word. At first they thought they might be free to leave, but that thought was pushed out of their minds when all of a sudden chains were wrapped around their wrists and they were teleported to the realm they had both only been to once, and wished never again to return to.

The man was still standing in front of them when they appeared in the middle realm, but now they noticed the two who were beside him before now holding onto the chains that bound the cousins.
“Okay, you’ve got to tell us what’s goin’ on here, you can’t just bring us here without our consent.” COUSINNAMEHERE said, stepping slightly away from his cousin for the moment, but quickly returning to being mostly covered by her. He knew he would be able to trust her, and could tell she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

By that time their minds were beginning to be toyed with. They seemed to be fighting madness as it slowly tried to seep into their minds. It was trying to penetrate their defences and take down their barriers so they could be like everyone else in that world.

“You feel it, don’t you?” The man said, his voice sounding more at home in that realm. Before he sounded very out of place, like he didn’t fit, but in that realm they could tell he made more sense.
“The madness rushing through your veins. Isn’t it beautiful? There’s no peace, nothing that would keep you calm, just crazy energy. Why do you first realmers think the peace is so inviting? It’s stupid, the world you live in is constantly happy and enjoying itself. Why can’t you live in the realm life happens the way it’s supposed to: with madness?”

MCNAMEHERE shook her head. “I’m not staying here again. I’ve been here before, there’s no use staying here again. I’ve seen it all, I’ve experienced it, the madness already made its mark, I’m not letting it get to me again.” Her stubbornness was coming out more than normal.
“Look, I know you guys think this crazy world is great and all, but we love our own realm. We came here and went back. We decided innocence was better than the insanity that comes with this world, so can’t we be happy?” COUSINNAMEHERE spoke, trying to hide the nerves from coming out, but anyone with any sense would know he was nervous. Luckily the people around him were clueless, all but MCNAMEHERE that is.

“We can’t let you go back. I’ve brought you here to keep you, and you won’t make it back alive. Try to leave and my attendants will kill you on the way out. Stay, and you’ll be kept alive and enjoying yourselves in this wonderful place. Isn’t the deal wonderful? Have a good life or be killed?” He seemed to be giving a great solution in his mind, but to the cousins they were horrified.

“We can’t stay. Try and kill us if you must, but we’re not consenting to this wretched world.” MCNAMEHERE stood up a bit taller. After making her decision that death was better than the place she was standing then, she was bolder, knowing if she was going to stay alive, she had to live life right.

“Alright then, try and leave.” The man’s voice seemed surprisingly inviting, but the moment the two cousins grabbed hands to start to run, the three people who had brought them to the second realm disappeared, and MCNAMEHERE teleported to her own home realm again.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her cousin was gone! She turned around quickly, trying to see if maybe he was just hiding somewhere, but nowhere could she find her cousin. Her breath was beginning to quicken to an unhealthy pace, but she couldn’t help it. She stood up from the grassy area she was sitting in by the calm and peaceful lake, and began to run back towards her home. She needed to get help before anything happened to her cousin in the second realm.
1,175 words
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First weekly, part three

VILLAIN has already been described in the part above this. He wants authority. Once he found the portal to the second realm, he decided that people were missing out on it, and decided that his goal would be to bring everyone to the middle realm. He thought that the first realm was boring and sad and drab, so bringing people one by one into “his realm” as he thought of it would help people be happier. Slightly “Arsenic and Old Lace” style, doing the totally wrong thing for a sweet reason.

He went to the second realm when he was seven years old after thinking his parents were the most boring people, they never seemed to do anything exciting or get anything really cool done. When he found the second realm though, that all was about to change. He forced his parents into the second realm where he decided they would be happier, and from then on he started pulling people into it hoping to make their lives more interesting.
170 words
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First weekly, part four

VILLIAN took a breath, noticing his parent’s unchanging calmness. It drove him almost out of his mind. He couldn’t seem to get them to do anything of any excitement. He almost thought his parents weren’t interested in making their lives fun.

VILLAN was seven years old when he decided he could take control of his own life, and maybe his friends and family would follow along soon enough. He didn’t plan on being in charge of his life the day it finally happened to him, it just kind of came towards him and he grabbed a hold of it.


VILLAIN was taking a walk through what could’ve been called a forest, but was more like an open field with scattered trees here and there. The sun was beaming down on his shoulders, getting quite close to turning his face a light pink. He let out a sigh as he thought of the people he left at home. To VILLAIN, he saw his parents as people who didn’t care in the least about how exciting or interesting their lives were. He thought the whole realm was just boring and uninteresting. If they wanted change or power for example, then yes, he’d love them and be happy to spend all of his time with them. But the fact that they didn’t in the least changed things quite a bit.

The boy noticed something different about a tree as he walked towards it. There was a tiny thing off with it, he couldn’t make out what it was, but it caught his eye and made him slow to a halt and look at it. He studied the bark, trying to figure out what it was that inspired so much interest in him, but nothing stuck out as odd.

He continued to rub his hand against the wood, searching his mind for something, anything that could help him understand. The light was sucked away from around him all in one moment, he couldn’t understand what was going on, the moment went by all so quickly that when he looked back on it, he couldn’t really remember what happened.

Before he had a real chance to think, someone ran into him, almost knocking him right off of his feet. He seemingly had appeared right in front of the man. The man who ran into VILLAIN apologized quickly, and VILLAIN just nodded. “Did you come to the second realm from the first?” The man asked.
VILLAIN tilted his head. “The ‘second realm’?” He repeated, confused.
“Ahh, first time. You’ll understand soon enough.” And off the stranger went.

VILLAIN was obviously surprised and pretty confused. From his normal life where everything was totally boring to this new world, he had no choice but to be quite confused.

After looking around at his surroundings, he noticed a few particular things that made him know something was really off…
The first, was the color of the people’s RECTANGLETHINGIES. Instead of the light green he was used to, they were all a pretty orchid color, but not super bright.
The second had to be the fact that his mind felt more at home. Instead of the constant longing for something interesting to happen, he felt like there was stuff going on around every corner. There was a hustle and bustle that gave him a sense of knowing he was where he should be.
The final thing VILLAIN noticed was the fact that the whole atmosphere seemed to be exactly what he had felt his whole life: wanting more. He had always been the odd one out, not able to just live with the same ol’ same ol’, but needing more. Instead of being the weird one who wanted more, he fit in 100%.


Twenty-two years had passed since VILLAIN had first entered the second realm. He had accomplished quite a bit in his eyes, having brought over a hundred people over from the first realm two the second so they could realize all of the joy and excitement there was in the idea of having lots of stuff to do.

About half of the people who went from the first realm into the second hated every minute of it. They constantly searched for a way back, hoping they could go back to their old peaceful calm lives instead of the chaos of their new one. Some did make it back, and they were so much more thankful for the life they had. Meanwhile the ones who decided the second realm was better than the first one were being just as crazy as they could be.


When VILLAIN saw a six year old wandering around the second realm for two days before disappearing again, he was interested immediately. Most people would either appear for a few moments then leave again, or sometimes walk around for maybe ten minutes, but not many people stayed there for more than a day and then leave.

He had tried a few times before 2020 to try and bring the six year old back into the second realm, but nothing worked, he kept being right at the wrong time so he had to go back without her. Finally, almost ten years after she entered the middle realm for the first time, not only did VILLAIN have a chance to bring her back, but he was able to bring her cousin back too. The time was perfect, he was overjoyed.

He appeared beside the two cousins with two of his friends who had the same ideals as him: wanting to bring people to the second realm to give them more joy and excitement and to show them there was so much more to life than being bored in the first realm.

They jumped up from the ground and the younger cousin stepped in front of the older, which surprised VILLAIN quite a bit, but he ignored it for the moment. “You two have been to the second realm. I’m here to bring you back.”


The response was what VILLAIN expected. Neither were up to the idea, but they were forced to do what he asked anyway. After they were brought to the second realm, the younger cousin said she’d rather die than stay with him and live. Though VILLAIN didn’t understand, he liked her enthusiasm. The cousins tried to run off, but VILLAIN caught the boy and kept him in the second realm, letting the younger go free. He knew if she had a heart she’d come back to save him.
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November 6th daily

Outside the wind blew past the trees, making soft whistling sounds. It was relaxing and quite calming. James was a young boy at the time, he had a mind of his own, and he was quite bright. He was smart and could help anybody with anything as long as it didn’t involve him to be tall or too strong, seeing as he was only eight.

He was walking through a forest one day, enjoying the peace and the quiet. His mind was going to things no eight year old should ever have to think about… His father had died a year ago that day. He wished he didn’t have to live with such pain and such remorse, but he did. It was sad and hard, and though he knew he would be alright in a bit more time, the present moment was horrible for him. He constantly wished he could go back in time to the past when his father was alive and could help him understand the point of all of the normal life things.

Though James knew his mother was an incredible woman- and she really was, working hard, taking care of James and yet always keeping a good attitude- he did wish his father was still alive. He would think back on when he would run through that same forest outside behind the back of their house and just run and leap and trip and be picked back up again. It was all a part of the experience. He was able to just be a young child, enjoy the fresh air, scrape up his knees a bit now and then, just be himself. Not worrying about making any money for the family, James was a happy seven year old with his father alive.

But the time came when James was eight years old, and his mother decided he could find a job that he would be able to work and pay for some of the family necessities. Of course, James was happy to help, being the good boy he was, but that didn’t make the work easy.

He worked four to eight hours a week, and did good work the whole time. He would wash cars for people in the neighborhood, he’d walk their dogs, give them baths, take care of their house while they were out of town, and anything else they could think of. It was a small homy town. Keeping in mind the size, it made sense that everyone was so kind to James and his mother. If the town was anywhere else, people might’ve just ignored their need. But having small towns act like small towns was something they did best. Friends would come over and take care of James and his mother when something happened and they weren’t able to work. If either of them got sick, neighbors would come together and help them get better and pay for things as needed. It was part of being in that nice neighborhood: everyone took care of each other. James and his mother would help out in any ways they could, but others would help with the finances. James would go over and clean their house for them when they were sick or couldn’t do as much as they knew they should’ve.

James was wandering in the forest he had spent so much time with his dad in. He was busy remembering what he did ‘in the good ol’ days’. It was hard to remember the things he did with his father with too much joy so soon after his death. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of them were frolicking around in the wind. Out of nowhere, it seemed that someone appeared to James’ right. For a moment he was afraid, but quickly he realized who it was: his father! But the moment passed in an instant. How? No one knew. He was just stuck there, not knowing what to do. He was sure his father appeared by his side, it looked like he was about to start running and playing with him, but he was stopped mid movement thanks to the fact that he disappeared.

“Dad?” James spoke into the near silence, but no response. “Don’t play games with me…”
A glimmer of hope struck James: maybe his father really was alive and he would be able to play with him again. Maybe he could quit all of his neighborhood jobs and just do the things he was doing before for free just as a way to help people. He wanted to be able to just help people and not expect anything in return. It was a lot to ask, but he really did hope that his father was alive so he could just help people again.

James wondered if maybe his father was alive, would he be alright with James’ hard work? Would he prefer it if he just stopped working so hard and enjoyed his childhood? James wasn’t sure. Maybe, maybe not.

It felt like the perfect moment for James to break into a sob, just break down and lie on the grass and cry. It felt like there was a lot going on he couldn’t understand, his mom seemed to be a bit more distant, though she was still just as kind and loving as before. She just didn’t seem to be quite right. Maybe his father had been alive the whole past year, and James just needed to learn how to cope on his own before he revealed himself again. The hope was almost too much for James to endure. He clung onto a willow tree that blew back and forth in the wind. “Dad? Are you alive?”
Yet again, no response. He didn’t know how, but there was hope. More hope than he could’ve imagined even a month ago. He was used to dealing with the pain of missing his dad, so not having that pain was a surprise and quite an odd feeling of total hope. He had hope again for the first time in too long.
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Second weekly - Part One

“Secret Origami Expert”
His eyes are a dark gray with hints of blue and green. His Japanese hairstyle looks like one you might see in a manga. he has nimble quick fingers, and his mind moves fast for his age. He's only seventeen, but he knows more than many adults. He's got talent beyond measure, and he knows it. He knows he can do a lot, so he uses it to his advantage. He can continue to learn new things at the blink of an eye, and tends to learn them with a rapidity nobody an understand. He speaks with thought out words, and is calm in demeaner. He's a very talented young man.
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Second weekly - Part Two

“Pick a topic, write about it.”
Headphones… Anybody else feel like headphones are just made to be broken? How many headphones have you gone through this year? Probably too many. You shouldn't have to buy new headphones for your sister or brother every birthday and Christmas! When they are created, they should be made with good solid pieces. As I'm writing this, I'm looking at my beautiful mint and light purple headphones, and admiring the colors, and groaning at the crack in the section that holds the devices on your head. It's still in one piece, and it still works great, but I would not want anybody to see them because of the embarrassingness of their being.
111 words

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Second weekly - Part Three

Now that COUSINAMEHERE knows that the world I thought I had made up is real, I can remember it with honesty.
I don’t have to think about it in the context of “this is probably made up”, instead I can remember it truly, and I can tell it like it happened.

Though I was young, I remember every detail. I remember each piece of information most people would forget.

For example, I remember one person who seemed slightly familiar… Though even to this day I’m sure I didn’t know him, there was something about his demeanor that makes me think we must’ve met before, even if just in passing. His hat was something that made me be sure I had seen him previously.it was broadrimmed, which was something I didn’t see often, so it stood out.

Another thing I noticed was that most of the people seemed like they wanted to go somewhere. They almost looked like they had somewhere to be, though even they weren’t sure where that was. They seemed like they were expecting something to happen. Like at any moment their whole world would disappear and they wouldn’t be able to find it again, so they had to hurry and go somewhere new.

There were a few people who seemed out of place… maybe it was just their clothing that made them stand out, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t belong there. Almost like I was, like they had come there by accident. It was like they were sucked in just as I was, but they were less intent on escaping. Don’t get me wrong, they looked like they were searching for their place, but they didn’t seem like that was their sole goal.

I wished I could leave that horrible place. It was much harder to stay there, knowing my world was going on without me while I was gone. I knew my parents would be incredibly worried about me. How could they help it? It felt like I was stuck in this bubble I couldn't make it out of while my world moved without me.
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Second weekly - Part Four

RECTANGLE THINGIES are the way of life, in a sense. They help life exist. Everywhere you look, there are RECTANGLETHINGIES. It makes the world very green, always glowing, sometimes pulsing. Very rarely do they just fall down for the sake of falling.

They make up the buildings, a lot like one might think bricks do. Most man-made things are made of these beautiful green items.

You program them with a device you wear on your non-domanant wrist, telling it what you want it to do, and that's what it'll do. Within reason, of course.


You can speak into your wrist-device, and it'll ask what exactly you want the device or devices to do, how many you want to do it, and why, when, how, where, or anything else it thinks it needs to work.

There are a few people who make things out of items other than our wonderful RECTANGLETHINGIES, but they are rare. I've seen a few people recently have their houses made by the people who use wood or grass to make their house. Why, though? I don't understand! Couldn't they just be up to date with tech and such?

Using a few together at key points can make things more exciting or cool than you might expect. They can create connections between themselves and nearby RECTANGLETHINGIES, making then into hats, wigs, clothing, jewelry, almost anything you can think of. If you can think it, they can make it. They don't have to do anything of any crazyness, but they sure can.

You know how there are trends? Those are huge parts of culture. If one person comes up with something and creates it and other people like it, they can recreate it and it quickly spreads to a trend.

When people think of our world, they likely don't think of the beautiful grass or the kind hearted people who warmly welcome each other into their homes openly, the probably think of the RECTANGLETHINGIES.


I saw someone who had a super flowy skirt with a nicely fitted top, obviously created by the green thingies.

It can be annoying having to see so much green all the time, but you get used to it. It becomes normal. You can change the color between the green items, but the RECTANGLETHINGIES themselves stay green no matter.
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Second weekly - Part Five

For writing just for the point of getting it out there, quantity is so much more important than quality. Editing comes later! I’ve heard so many times people say that the first draft of anything ever is always trash. If you don’t hate your first draft, you’ve overthinked it too much. If you’re not feeling like it needs fixing every second of the time, you are doing it wrong. Quantity quantity quantity! If you’re doing it just to make it look good, or if it’s a second or third draft, than don’t worry about quantity, that’s when it’s super important to make sure it looks good. Likely throughout SWC you shouldn’t worry about quality. If you are, you’re spending too much time looking into it. Just write! Nobody is judging you.

Now if you’re thinking “what about the writing competition?!?” So am I. For the writing competition, you should most definitely be thinking quality over quantity. For things that are going to be judged or critiqued, it’s better to go in with a version you’re at least a bit proud of, so if they say it’s good, you’re not thinking “yeah right”. You’ve got to just get your writing out there! You can’t change the world with an idea that’s only in your head. If you’re focusing too much on quality, people won’t ever finish the story. It can’t be read if it’s not written. Let me say that again: It can’t be read if it’s not written. It can’t change the world if it hasn’t come out of your mind. That’s just not the way it works.

If you’re consistently trying to get perfect wording, you won’t actually get ANY wording, you’ll just get frustrated. How many times have you tried and tried and tried to get something written, but you just can’t get over the idea that people might be reading it. You can’t do that! You’ve got to just write. Don’t stress about how it is, just write! I’m honestly not proud of any of my writing that is just to get it out there. Like, straight up honestly, I can’t do that. I can’t be proud of what I’m doing if it’s just to get it out there. Now if you’ve got to make it be good, I’d recommend starting with just getting it out, then editing it to make it enjoyable not only to you but to the reader.

Don’t overthink it! Just get it out there. I need to drill this into you, if you’re focusing too much on the details and not letting it escape your mind, it won’t help anybody. In final drafts, or when you’re editing, don’t just edit for the sake of editing, but work hard. If on the other hand you’re writing just to make sure your creative juices are flowing and so you can get some rest writing in, please don’t worry about making it good! You’ll stress yourself out! You’ll make your life so much harder than it has to be. Make sure you’re being careful not to make yourself freeze from thinking too hard.

Just get that writing out there! I don’t care whether or not you feel it’s good, you’ll be proud of yourself for doing it if you’re trying hard. Work hard and it’ll go so much better. Don’t overthink every step, but let the words just flow out. Don’t try to force them, otherwise they’ll be too rough or tough or not able to come out. I’m here thinking I’ve got to just write, because otherwise I’ll go back and be like ‘this is gross’ and then delete it all. I mean honestly! Even this I’m just writing to make sure it gets written. At some point later I might edit it or fix it up, but that’s not the point right now. At this moment in time I just have to write it.
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Second weekly - Part Six

Water is bad for you… don’t believe me? Read this!

Have you ever heard where water comes from? You know the water we drink came from the sky, right? It’s not just created out of nothing. It’s not just beautiful water. We’re given water generously, and that’s great, but we’ve got to remember that water is incredibly bad for you!

The water comes from the clouds, falls onto THE GROUND. Guys, it falls onto the ground and we’re supposed to drink it?!? How silly! We’ve got to find something pure… What that is, I don’t know yet, but there’s got to be something. Not coke, not tea, not coffee because of the water used to make it(though I love, no adore coffee). What is there to do?

Water has gone through so many people. The thought of that just disgusts me. I can’t believe that we’d drink something from someone else’s body! I mean yeah it’s hopefully been purified, but think about it… Not trying to make anyone hate water, because we have to live with it, everything is made with water, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t drink it with caution! We must pay attention to what we put in our bodies.

Now the plants… you may think plants are fine, they don’t have water in them, right? Not exactly… how do plants grow? With sunshine, yes. With fertilizer, most of the time yes. With water? Mhm. Absolutely neccicary. Water is so important to the thriving of plants, so now you say it’s fine? No it really isn’t. It’s covered in water when the rain falls. That terrible horrible water.

Also, the water’s intentions are evil. Have you ever heard of people drowning? Water could’ve stopped that. What Did it do? Nothing, just watched the person drown. How sad, huh?

And when you’re washing dishes, don’t you notice it not helping you? It just fights you every second of the way, hoping it’ll make you give up. Depending on how stubborn you are it might work, but not normally. In most situations it doesn’t work. It’ll flop and fail.

How about lakes? Those you may say are innocent. Nope! Not really. It’s not. They’re quite evil actually. They tend to draw people in, and when they’re in, the water calls over sharks and gators and crocodiles and expects you to be fine with it!

How about oceans? Those… *shudder* are horrible. They strangely draw you nearer, making you feel like you need to me there to relax, then they bring up sharks and evil waves and sharp pieces of metal. Have you never heard those stories? You likely have. It’s hard to justify water and drinking it and enjoying it when it’s so evil. It constantly tries to hurt you no destroy you and make your life more difficult. It pulls you and pushes you and takes you in its currents.

Now,there are some good things about water, like coffee, for instance… but most of the time it’s terrible! It wants to attack you. It tries to hurt you. It pulls on you and rips you apart mentally.

Depending on where it has been, it might be calm, or catchy, or try to seduce you with its ripples… but no! Don’t get sucked in by it! Your bath may look and seem great, but it really isn’t. It wants to pull you in and drown you. It wants to make you think over all your life choices and evaluate them so much you can’t control your own mind. You start to repeat things like “I’ve failed” over and over when you’re in that bath.
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11/12/21 Main Cabin Daily


“No. Burn the entire village- We can’t afford to be wrong. Plus it’s going to be so much fun, trust me.” Kage said with a booming voice. The leader of the Fear Force was not to be reckoned with, so his words were obeyed in mere moments. A match was lit by one member of the group, while another poured gasoline all over the village on his horse. He appeared beside Kage and the leader gave a nod to the man with the match, and he flung it strongly in the direction of the village. It was an uproar of flames in an instant.

“We’ve got to hurry if we want to get to the imposter king’s throne in time.” One of the men’s voices came floating towards the rest over the sounds of the crackling fire, disintegrating the village to ashes.
Kage gave a lift of his head, then he spurred his horse to get it moving in the direction of the castle a mile or so away. The rest of the Fear Force followed Kage without hesitation. They had to hurry, and they were not to waste even a second.

They arrived at the castle gate just in time, the gate was closing as they came to a halt in front of it. “Demin, hurry and stop them from closing the gate, the rest of us will hurry towards the king’s throne room.” Kage’s voice came strong as he spurred his horse to start again, and the man who must’ve been Demin hurried over to the wheel that controlled the gate. The rest of the men followed Kage on horseback, over towards a large section on the ground floor of the castle. To say they were nervous would be quite a lie, but it would be foolish not to mention their excitement as they stormed the castle. This was likely the largest thing they had done as a group, and boy were they looking forward to completing it.

Kage slid off the side of his horse and started up a staircase that began outside, ending in the throne room. There were a few guards he took out before going up, but they weren’t the strongest of the guards just yet. The rest of the men in the group followed him, making sure each of the men he had knocked out were fully unconscious and wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

Kage didn’t hesitate when he got to the landing with the huge, 20 foot high doors ahead of him and four guards in sight. He took the men out one by one, while his men distracted the others. He would fight one and either take his life, or knock him nicely unconscious, while the rest of his men would protect themselves from the others. After Kage took care of one, he’d move to the next, and do the same to him.

Only a couple minutes were spent getting rid of the men on that floor, but because they weren’t able to call anyone else over, they didn’t have to worry about anyone showing up in their area. Once they entered the throne room though, that would be another challenge, dealing with the many men in that room protecting the king.

After entering the throne room, the moments following were a blur. People running to and fro, men from the Fear Force taking out the king’s bodyguards, the king shouting out directions to people on how to protect him better, and more chaos that happened to be going on just because.

After each and every man in the throne room that wasn’t from the Fear Force or the king himself were laying on the ground, knocked out or dead, it was time to negotiate.

“We’re alone, was that your plan?” The king didn’t seem afraid, but something about his posture and the way he enunciated his words made Kage think otherwise.
Kage smiled slightly. “Of course, why else would we do this?” He opened his hands in a way of showing off their work.
“Well what do you want then?” The king seemed to be trying to form some sort of plan in his mind as to how he was supposed to get out of the sticky situation.
“The throne. I’ve earned it. You’ve seen the fires that have arised thanks to me. You’ve seen the devastation I’ve caused. You think you can stay king when your country is disappearing like-” he snapped his fingers, “that?”
“You can have much honor if you stop your actions.” Said the king firmly. “I see you all are hard workers when you have a goal, I can show the kingdom how wonderful you all are.”

“I’m not asking for your good graces, I’m asking for the throne.” Replied Kage, then he corrected himself, “I’m not asking… I’m taking the throne.”
He let the words linger in the air for a moment before he continued, “if you’d like to stay alive, you can give me it without a fight. If you’d like to end your life now, feel free. We won’t hesitate to take it.”

The king waited a moment, then spoke. “Alright. “The throne is yours, but don’t hurt me.” Were the words that he spoke, showing his heartlessness. He didn’t ask about his family, he didn’t request that his wife remained alive, no, all he cared about was his own life.

“Good choice. Take him away.” Kage ordered his men and they obeyed, starting over to the former king and taking off his crown, then removing him from the throne and bringing him to the dungeon.

“The kingdom is finally mine…” Kage said, sitting on the throne with a content look apon his face.
952 words

main cabin daily ♦︎ 11.02.21

The world is a harsh place.

Crime, lies, deceit…

Though the worst of them all, was unacknowledgement.

And that was one that Detective Kunafa could no longer take.

Detectives Kunafa and Cheesecake held their breath, peering down through the open vent from above. 5 weeks of stake-outs, interrogating, researching- and it all came down to this.

It had been agonizing trying to get the Dessert Department of Justice to approve the operation. Everyone always doubted Detective Kunafa. But with a charming smile or two from Cheesecake, Director Banana Pudding reluctantly agreed to the op.

A man and a woman argued in the server room beneath them, one of them clutching a sleek, black briefcase.

“Enough!” The one with a split-dye hissed. “You’re like a loose cannon, Rocky. Reckless, unpredictable, unreliable. I can’t take anymore chances on you.”

The one clutching the briefcase, Rocky Road, narrowed her grey eyes on the man. “Well, at least I got the job done, didn’t I, Banana Split?” she replied coolly.

“That’s not the point!” Banana Split shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. Rocky’s eyes widened as she took a step backwards.

“You’ve exposed us to everyone,” Banana Split hissed. “With the DDOJ on our tail, there’s no way we’ll be able to finish the operation without outside help. I’m just so-

Kunafa smirked as a rather colorful string of words pierced the air.

Rocky Road shoved the briefcase into Banana Split’s hands. “Fine then. You take the money. I’m out.”

The second that both Dessertian’s hands touched the briefcase, Kunafa jumped through the vent and flashed their badge at the criminals. “DDOJ. Put your hands up,” they said with smug satisfaction.

Detective Cheesecake came right behind them, holding her weapon up at Banana Split. Armed DDOJ officers came bursting in from the server room door, detaining Rocky Road and Banana Split.

Director Banana Pudding came in with a large smile on her face. “Well done, Detective Cheesecake,” she said to her. Her eyes flashed briefly to Detective Kunafa with an impassive expression, before she turned around and left.

And that’s how it always was.

Another case solved, more acknowledgement lost.

Just the celebration of victory of their partners.

The arson case with Detective Chocolate Chip last month.

Solving the death of Apple Pie with Agent Butterscotch.

The same cycle over and over, cases cracked and going unnoticed for years.

Sometimes Kunafa wondered if the criminals got more attention than they did.

Detective Kunafa was skilled at their work, far more skilled than anyone had bothered to notice. They had a vast knowledge of the criminal network, the stealth of a ninja, the tips and tricks for any crime.

And now, it was time to commit one.

⌦ Cabin: Thriller
⌦ Word Count: 454
⌦ A/N: Backstory timeee- I’m guessing not many of you know what kunafa is xD It’s basically a pastry of crispy shredded filo dough soaked in a sweet syrup and layered with cheese! I’m not a big dessert fan, but my mom made this for my birthday and it’s one of the few sweet things I like (mainly cause it’s a little more on the savory side than most desserts haha) It’s super underrated, therefore inspiring me to write this My dad and I started watching Lucifer, which wasn’t too bad, giving me this idea xD This isn’t my best work, but I think I reflected my theme pretty well!

11/2/2021 Daily

What can I say, therefore, of you, my dear pudding?
A rich, sweet chocolate, with whipped cream upon.
Too much, I say, too much can be told
Of the dessert that was made in my grandmother’s bowl.
Never once have I turned you down, no not once;
For anyone who has tasted it surely can concur,
The most delicious sweet is the creamy coco treat.

The first time I opened my eyes, I didn’t know where I was and what happened to me. I could tell that a cliff was before me, but I couldn’t lean forward to look how far. Silver surroundings engulfed my every sense, and a soft lace was underneath. A giant dressed in the brightest light from head to toe approached me quickly, and before I could scream, there was a huge earthquake! The place where I stood was rocked and brought up into the sky; surely, this was how I would die, surrounded by my family, dashed to death on the ground, millions of miles away. I braced myself for my destruction; but it never came.
The earthquake stopped, and the giant light-wearer set me down. A sigh of relief engulfed me. I felt my sprinkled breath again. Peace and quiet once more. But it wasn’t the end. For another giant, this one at my level, looked at me with the most wicked joy you have ever seen, and she exclaimed to another giant that I could not see in a forgen language. Then her beastly large hands came toward me, anticipation in her tingling fingers and lip-licking. I needed to escape-now! I rocked myself back and forth, side to side. My form was hard to move, but after a large shove to the right, I landed on my side and rolled off the cliff, and onto another surface, many miles below. The giant screamed, hollered, more like, the sound making my ears(well, I don’t have ears, but you get the point) ache. If I could have covered them, I would, but alas, lack of arms made this impossible. My frosting spilled everywhere, but I didn’t care. If I was going to survive, I would do it without the beautiful decorations. I continued to roll toward another cliff, and with a muted scream of my own, splattered on the ground with a groan. I was barely myself; I could feel my cupcake insides crumbling.


+403 words!

Daily 11/02/21

301 words

Bundt cakes, the round, circular bliss of life.

The rich, dense, flavorful, moist, filling cake makes your taste buds sing! The fresh cake from the store, refrigerated before being served at a big table full of eager people wanting to take a bite of this masterpiece. The frosting tops it off in creamy white stripes coming out from the center of the cake. The cream cheese frosting is as creamy as creamy can get. It is so smooth and so perfectly placed at the top of the cake. The bundt cake is the choice to go for any party! Every year, I get a bundt cake and share it at a rectangular table full of people eating cake and begging for more.

Sometimes the cake is so dense, you can barely finish one piece. But sometimes it's so light and fluffy you think you can eat a thousand more pieces. Full of things like chocolate chips, nuts, jam, jelly, or even carrot (but rarely carrot). The patterns on a slice of cake are beautiful! Marbled vanilla or chocolate. White dense cake with jam. Bright red with chocolate chips dotting the inside. Pretty pale yellow lemon cake. All flavors to choose from. So, as you can imagine, choosing just one is certainly a dilemma.

The frosting is always the same, but you can never get tired of it! The way it tops the cake with creamy pleasure. The frosting is a beautiful way to end your tiring day full of sorrow.

The bundt cake flavors are so different, but all amaze you and make you want more of the cake. The frosting tops off every single cake, no matter how the frosting is drizzled on the cake. The bundt cake makes my birthday every year enhanced with such a delicious, sweet desert.

The daily for today: 346 words for Fanfic!

Ice Cream ~ A Poem

Cool on my tongue
So this poem I sung
Sweet, oh so sweet
There are so many flavors that I love to eat.
Chocolate caramel, vanilla cream
And of course, that awful brain freeze makes me scream.
You can make it at home with cream, sugar and salt
This delicious treat is free of fault.
So get out you spoons and your chocolate sauce
And smile and laugh ‘cause ice cream is boss.

I finish jotting down the poem, smiling to myself. Ice cream really is delicious, especially when you are watching a movie. So I do just that. I grab a scoop (or five) of my favorite flavor, Ben and Jerry's Phish Food. The caramel, marshmallow and chocolate combo is a match made in heaven.
Scrolling through Disney+, I wonder what to watch. Then it hits me: YOU SHOULD BE DOING SWC YOU IDIOT!!!
Smiling guiltily, I log on to my iPad and check the daily, wondering what it is. (Being on mobile all the time sucks.)

November is banana pudding lovers’ month! In the spirit of this, write about your favourite dessert. You could write with a dessert as your main character, or a love letter to your dessert, or a poem about it - whatever gets your creative juices flowing! 300 words for 500 points. You can gain an additional 100 points if you share your writing.

I chuckle, then continue eating my ice cream. I add a bit to my ice cream poem and edit it.

Ice Cream ~ A Poem

Cool on my tongue
So this poem I sung
This scoop is sweet, oh so sweet
There are so many flavors that I love to eat.
Chocolate caramel, vanilla cream
And of course, that awful brain freeze makes me scream.
You can make it at home with cream, sugar and salt
This delicious treat is free of fault.
So many sauces and toppings too
This ice cream is delicious to chew.
So get out you spoons and your chocolate sauce
And smile and laugh ‘cause ice cream is boss.

11/2 main cabin daily
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Ice cream, pie and cake, so many sweet treats to eat. Out of all of them, ice cream will be my favorite.

The variety is huge, maybe that's why I love it. With flavors like Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry and Neapolitan.

I personally liked cookies and cream.

Different types for different likes. Maybe I like ice cream because of its consistency, regular or soft-serve. Don’t get me started on toppings. Practically anything can go on ice cream and it’ll still taste pretty good.

You can turn it into milkshakes or DQ’s famous Blizzards. Or you can just top it on pie, or bacon
we don’t judge here.
All of these are reasons to like ice cream, but I think what made me like ice cream was my Grandma’s apartment.

When I was little I would spend the weekend at my Ma’s, still do.
At ma’s we had movie nightstand every movie night she would make me, and sometimes her, milkshakes

Point is because they have emotional meaning, and they taste good. Ice cream is my favorite dessert.

Ice cream is really good, ice cream is my favorite dessert.

Ice cream is really good though. Have you ever got hom, from a bad day and you just want something cold and sweet? Bet you have, and your two options are ice cream and soda. Both are good, put them together and you get the perfect afternoon treat.

Ice cream is cold and sweet with a soft touch and I love ice cream. There is so much cool about ice cream.

It’s relatively cheap to buy as well.

Have you ever been sick? Having congestion or a rough throat? Well I have been, and when I was sick and sad I would eat ice cream. It was soothing and cold, made my throat did not hurt as much.

I love you ice cream. <3