Daily 11/2/21

I have a lot of favorite desserts, but most of them have one thing in common: Chocolate. I think I get it from my great-grandmother. This isn't surprising; since I share a name with her (and no, I'm not telling you what it is), it makes sense that we'd also share a favorite dessert.
And before we get any farther, let me get one thing straight:
White chocolate isn't chocolate. It is made from cocoa butter, not cocoa powder.
So while white chocolate is good, it's not real chocolate and therefore cannot compare to the utter superiority of chocolate.
“But Stingray,” you're probably saying, "there are multiple different kinds of chocolate!"
True.
Since I've already gone waaaaaay off the deep end and you guys probably already think I'm crazy (that is if you haven't closed the tab out of utter disgust yet), I'll take an even deeper dive into my favorite dessert, which by the way is also pretty high up on my overall favorite food list, and tell you what type of chocolate I like best.
My favorite is semi-sweet, because obviously.
Dark chocolate is also really good, and milk chocolate lies not far behind.
Bittersweet and 100% dark chocolate are… well let's just say I dislike them so much I can't think of a proper adjective.
And we all know what I think of white chocolate.
The problem with chocolate is the problem that plagues all candy-lovers: Sugar rushes.
Sometimes, if I am exposed to inhuman amounts of chocolate, I will eat too much of it and turn into a hamster.
No, seriously! My glasses fall off and my arms and legs shrink and I grow new ears and whiskers and a little stubby tail and…
A good memory of this is a robotics club meeting way back in fifth grade. Those were the good old days… but I'm getting off track. At these meetings, one of my friends (who, looking back on it, I seriously third-wheeled and seriously need to apologize to except he moved halfway across the country and I have no way to contact him) moms was a professional pastry chef. She always brought in delicious snacks for the club. One evening she made these delicious pretzels that were dipped in chocolate, white chocolate (aka fake chocolate), and cinnamon sugar. The leaders of the robotics club put them in the hallway so none of us kids would eat them and go on a sugar rush.
Spoiler alert: I snuck into the hallway and ate half the container.
Those were fun times.

But anyways, thank you for listening to my TED Talk about chocolate, nature's greatest food, I hope you enjoy your day or night (I don't know everyone's time zones)!

Part one of the weekly:

Iris blinked back tears. “I wish I was like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re so quiet, you fly under the radar. Meanwhile I built up this reputation for myself, and I have to live up to these impossible expectations. Every. Single. Day.”
“I’m-” Rachel began, trying to apologize, but Iris cut her off.
“Everyone thinks that I have it all together. Well guess what? I don’t. Do you have any idea what I’m going through?”
Rachel didn’t, but figured it was a rhetorical question.
“My parents are considering splitting, my dad doesn’t have a job anymore, and my mom’s too depressed to do much else than sit in her room watching TV all day, and guess who takes care of all the siblings? I do. I cook and clean and try to get everything figured out because there’s nobody else who’s around to do it. You know why I’m so perfect in school? It’s the only way. I don’t want my family to fall apart, but when they’re all depending on me to keep us together, and everyone at school assumes I’m stable so they give me all their problems too…”
Iris gave up all pretenses and burst into tears.
“I- I have n-no one,” she sniffled.
Rachel put her arm around Iris and said softly, “you have me.”

Count: 221 words

Part two of the weekly:

“How was school?” Rachel’s aunt Elena asked.
“You know,” Rachel said softly, “same as always.”
“Yeah.” Aunt Elena smiled and waited. Her niece was quiet and shy, but if you waited around long enough you usually got an answer out of her.
“I dunno,” Rachel said, staring into her mac and cheese, “just once I would like to have an extraordinary day.”
Elena raised her eyebrows.
Rachel continued, “one where everything goes my way and good stuff happens and I’m not a social hermit crab.”
“I’m assuming today wasn’t that kind of day.”
Rachel shook her head. “Nope.”
“Just normal or worse than normal?” Elena asked.
Rachel was quiet for a long time, trying to get the words swirling in her head to come out of her mouth.
Finally, she spoke.
“I have- well, I had this friend. B-but I said something… and I hurt her. I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t know what she was…” Rachel trailed off again, took a drink of water, and sighed.
“I’m sorry. Let me start over. I made a friend at school, my first real friend ever, and at first I didn’t really like her. We got paired up on a project and Iris is one of those kids who seems to do everything right the first try, and to be honest I was a little bitter. This made Iris really kinda standoffish and we argued a lot. But then as it goes on we get to be better friends, and…”
“And what?”
“We- we started to be more than friends and I really liked her, you know, LIKE-liked her, but then there was this girl at school and she already made fun of me a lot and Iris too but since we like each other now the mean-ness is even worse and I don’t know what to do and I said something wrong to Iris and now she hates me too and- and- I just-”
As Rachel had said all this her voice had gotten progressively higher and faster, until she just stopped, wishing she could disappear into her bowl of mac and cheese.
Aunt Elena looked at Rachel and sighed. “God I’m terrible at this stuff. But I dunno, this is going to sound so cliche, but… whoever this nasty other girl is, she doesn’t matter. Don’t let her get to you.”
Rachel was skeptical. “That’s what all the books say, but- has it ever worked?”
“Rachel, do you have any idea how mean your mom, my older sister, was to me when I was in school?”
“I live with you instead of her, so I’d say yes.”
“Right. Well. This wasn’t normal older-sister meanness. This was toxic, poisonous behavior that ruined my self-confidence and pretty much took all the good out of fourteen years of my life. Everyone always told me to not listen to her, and I thought exactly what you thought. But then, halfway through high school, I realized that all those people were right. They weren’t helpful, they didn’t do anything to stop your mom, but they were right. So I learned to block her out. I learned that my voice was more important than hers, and I found out that I was stronger than she thought I was, stronger than I thought I was, strong enough to be myself even though she was telling me to be someone else. And that’s what you have to do.”
Rachel smiled at her aunt and found that Elena’s eyes were watery too.
“Okay,” Rachel said, “that’s what I’ll do.”
But first, she had to finish that mac n cheese.

Count: 601 words

Part three of the weekly:

Miranda slammed the door closed and dropped her backpack full of homework in the hallway. She stepped into the kitchen and was immediately attacked by a bunch of loud, annoying kindergartners. Apparently her little brother was having yet another playdate. Great. Miranda ran up to her room before anyone could ask her how her day was and texted her friends.
Sorry guys, you can’t come over today. The Monster has friends over.
Miranda flopped down on her bed. It had been a horrible day. Actually, since her real best friend Allie had moved away, all days were horrible. Miranda was a shell of her former self, left to keep up the happy-girl act and pretend that she enjoyed inheriting all of Allie’s popularity.
“Man, I was a jerk today.”
Once again, Miranda had accidentally taken out all her anger and loneliness on Rachel and Iris. Back when Allie was in town and they were popular, that was how it had always been. The people on top of the food chain eat the people on the bottom, and even before Rachel, the quiet girl, and Iris, the teachers pet, had been together they had both been at the bottom. Rock bottom. Back then, Miranda hadn’t really noticed- or cared about- the fact that she was a toxic jerk, because Allie had made it seem normal and okay, but now that Miranda was on her own she realized that the poisonous nature Allie had left behind was eating her from the inside out, turning Miranda’s need for friendship into a hatred of those who had already found each other (specifically, Rachel and Iris).
“I need to stop this,” Miranda said to herself. “If only I knew how.”

Count: 285 words

Daily 11/4/21:

“Are you okay?” I ask.
Luke just looks at me. “I’m fine,” he says.
I raise my eyebrows, not buying it. “Really?”
“I’m fine. You can go away now.”
Not gonna lie, that last part stung. I know Luke better than anyone. He’s not fine.
“Are you sure? You look sad.”
“I’m not sad.”
“Okay…”
“I’m mad.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. So why are you mad?”
Luke clearly does not want to talk about this. I don’t care. As he strides away, I follow him like an annoying mosquito. “You WILL tell me!” I say in my most convincing Sith-Lord voice.
Luke rolls his eyes, or at least I assume he rolled his eyes; he’s walking away from me so I can’t really see. “You know why I’m mad,” he says.
“Yeah. Maybe I do. But you’re still going to tell me.”
“Why should I tell you if you already know? There’s no point.”
“A lot of stuff you do has no point but we still talk about it anyways. Why should this be any different?”
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it!”
Oh boy. Now Luke’s getting really angry. I’m opening my mouth to say more, but my other friend Ada pulls me away. “Give him some time,” she says.
I bite my tongue, because I know that if I say anything now I’ll regret it. I breathe deeply, then open my mouth to talk again.
“Sorry Luke. You’re right. I of all people should know that this isn’t making you feel any better. I’ll leave you alone now.”

I walk away and fake-smile, like always, so Luke doesn’t know that I think he’s being a butthole.
The thing is, I’m right. If Luke doesn’t say something to someone, his anger is going to turn poisonous, snaking around his insides until it devours him whole. I know from experience. Actually, Luke himself once told me not to keep it all inside. Kind of a “do-as-I-say-not-what-I-do” scenario, right?
So I go apologize. Even though I know I’m right, Luke is like a younger brother to me, both because we’re that close of friends and because he’s that much of a pain. If unnecessarily apologizing is going to keep our friendship intact, I’m willing to lie.

We’re putting books in our lockers before lunch and I see Luke. Grabbing my lunchbox and closing the locker door, I walk down the crowded hallway towards Luke, who isn’t yet aware of my presence.
I tap him on the shoulder.
“Hey Luke,” I say. “Sorry about this morning. That was totally the wrong way for me to go about things. I came off too strong without intending to. And I of all people know that yelling - uh, almost yelling - is not the best way to help someone who’s angry. But anyways I hope you’re not too mad at me. Um… yeah. So.”
Luke looks at me. Not in an angry way, but in a confused way.
“What? No, you’re fine. I was never that angry.”
He speed walks off toward the cafeteria, probably trying to avoid me because he doesn’t want a hard conversation.
“I know you too well!” I call into the mob of preadolescents. Luke doesn’t turn back.

Typical.

Count: 544 words
New total: 1846 words
All the names in this story are made up btw but they do represent real people.

Daily 11/5/21:

It was a typical Saturday morning. I was sitting on the living room sofa with a blanket draped around my shoulders, watching a movie while my dog slept next to me. All normal stuff, right? (obvious foreshadowing)
Then, I heard a knock at the door. My mom was on a grocery run and my dad was doing trail work with some of his mountain bike coach friends, and my sister was spending the night at my grandparents’ house, so I was alone. The way I liked it, because there was nobody there to stop me from eating all the banana bread. The knocking persisted, so I went to the door. Standing outside was a girl with blue hair wearing a trench coat and sunglasses.

“Hey,” I said, “nice outfit. Can I help you?”
“Yes you can,” the girl said. “I’m Amanda East, and I’m with the East Detective Agency. It has come to my attention that your neighbor is planning to take over the world.”
This was new to me. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I have no idea what you’re talking about and I have stuff to do, so if I can’t help you please leave me alone.”
Amanda looked slightly annoyed. “Hear me out.”
“Okay…”
Amanda held up a phone. It opened to what looked like… a TikTok video?
“Do you recognize the person in this video?” Amanda asked, pressing play.
A loud, obnoxious voice came out of the speaker.
“Yo! I’m DJ PB&J and I’m here to make some beats that will BLOW YOUR MIND!”
DJ PB&J, whoever he was, did not know what he was doing. Thankfully, Amanda paused the video after a few seconds.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“That. Was. Torture. Seriously, that thing violates the 8th Amendment for cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Good,” Amanda said, “you’re one of the few who can resist it.”
“Resist what?”
“DJ PB&J mixes a hypnotism frequency into his videos. Only the strong-minded can resist it, and generally those who spend their time on TikTok do not have strong minds.”
“My mom doesn’t let me have a phone, so I’d say I’m good on that part.”
Amanda looked relieved. “Great,” she said, “so do you know the person in this picture?”
I thought for a minute. “I’ve never seen him before… but my nasty neighbor calls her crush PB&J.”
“Yes!” Amanda said excitedly. “Now we’re on to something!”
“That’s nice,” I said, “but can I please go back to what I was doing now?”
Amanda looked disappointed. “I was hoping you would help… but sure.”

Later that afternoon, I was still watching movies. So far I had finished Infinity War and was almost done with Endgame. My goal was to make it to Loki by the end of the day and binge as much as I could of it. However, I was feeling a bit guilty for not helping Amanda out earlier.
“It’s fine,” I said, trying to soothe my conscience, “Amanda probably has it all figured out by now.”
That was when I heard her scream.
I shoved my feet into my shoes and ran as fast as I could out the door to my neighbor’s house. There I saw Amanda kneeling on the ground clutching her ears.
“It’s too late,” she whispered, barely breathing, “it’s too late…”

That was when I woke up. Breathing hard, I looked around. I was in the same spot I had been all day, on the couch in my living room. The computer was in front of me, its screen dark. The battery had probably died. I started up the stairs, still in my pajamas, and looked around my room for a charger. Then I heard a knock on the door. Running down the stairs, I said a quick prayer. “Pleasepleaseplease don’t be a blue-haired private eye. Please!”
Thankfully, it was only my neighbor, Breanna.
“Hey Breanna,” I said.
“Hey Nora,” she said.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Oh not really,” Breanna smiled, “I just wanted to show you my crush PB&J’s TikTok. He’s really talented, isn’t he?”

Word count: 684 words
New total: 2530
All the names in this story are fake.

Part 4 of the weekly:

The next day at school, Rachel decided to apologize to Iris. She screwed up all of her courage, took a deep breath and walked toward her friend’s locker.
“Iris?”
“What do you want?” Iris asked. Rachel could see that Iris had been crying; her eyes were red and bloodshot.
“I’m sorry.”
Iris rolled her eyes. “Understatement of the millennium.”
Rachel could tell she was being frozen out. “No seriously, we need to talk-”
But Iris had already disappeared into the sea of students, off to her next class.

Rachel moved through the rest of the morning in a haze, trying to keep her mind numb so she wouldn’t have to think.
This is my fault, she told herself, all my fault.
Rachel and Iris hadn’t known each other for long. They’d first met unwillingly, when they’d been paired up for a science project. It hadn’t started well; Iris thought that Rachel wasn’t doing her share of the work and Rachel thought that her ideas weren’t being listened to.
I was such an idiot. I thought that Iris always did everything right and now I know she’s scared of doing something wrong.
Iris was always putting up a facade, one where she was perfect, everything was perfect, and Iris did not need any help from anyone, thank you very much. When they’d first met, that was what Rachel saw and resented. But as they’d gotten to know each other better, Rachel had discovered another side of Iris, one that had thoughts and feelings. One that loved strawberries and manicotti and writing cringy fanfics in the dead of night. That was the Iris that Rachel knew best - and loved the most. But just when Rachel thought that her feelings for Iris could turn into something real, she’d screwed it all up. Iris had trusted Rachel more than anyone in the world, but still didn’t tell Rachel about her other life, her life at home.
Rachel muttered to herself, “if I’d known better, I’d have never said those things.”
Unfortunately, the teacher heard. “Rachel?”
“Sorry,” Rachel said, staring at her lap.
Silently this time, Rachel tried to think of ways to get through to Iris.
I could slip a letter in her locker… no she’d probably burn it. What about DMing her? Maybe…

Rachel continued to ponder apologizing all through the next period, slipping out of reality and deep into her own thoughts, coming out only to write down the homework assignment and answer the occasional question. She walked through the hallway to the cafeteria, mumbling apologies to all the people she bumped in to. Not like they heard her. Then, Rachel felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around, seeing Iris. It looked like Iris had been crying again, her eyes were red behind her glasses and her hair was disheveled.
“I want to forgive you.”
Rachel wasn’t expecting that. “What?”
“I want to forgive you. I really do. I want it to all be okay so we can go back to how things were. But- but I’ve never been this vulnerable around… anyone, really, and I’m scared that if I forgive you it’ll just happen again.”
Rachel had never seen Iris like this before. Not even caring about what the other people in the hallway would thing, she hugged Iris as hard as she could. “I will never hurt you again,” Rachel whispered, “I promise.”

The two hugged for a long time after that. Finally Iris let go.
“Have I told you I love you?” she asked.
Rachel just smiled. “C’mon,” she said, “let’s go get some lunch. I’m starving.”
“You were always one for hyperbole,” Iris said as they entered the cafeteria together.

Rachel was feeling pretty happy, a definite improvement from the morning. She’d apologized to Iris, hopefully gotten her girlfriend back, and her burger wasn’t half bad.
Then Miranda showed up at their table.
“Well, well, well,” she said, “looks like Team Weirdo has gotten back together again.”
Before Iris could fire something back at Miranda, Rachel intervened.
“Miranda?” Rachel asked, “what is it that you want with us?”
Miranda wasn’t used to people responding to her like that. “Huh?”
Rachel kept going, “even before Iris and I liked each other, you’ve always been mean to us and there has to be a reason. So why?”
Miranda suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “Um…”
Then she unexpectedly started crying.
“Woah, what’s wrong?” Iris asked, very confused and almost on the verge of tears herself. It had been a very tearful day so far, and it was only lunchtime.
“I’m such a horrible person,” Miranda moaned, putting her head down on the table and letting her purple-streaked hair obscure her eyes
Rachel stood up. “Okay,” she said, “okay. Let’s go to the library so we can have some privacy.”
The three walked off, Rachel leading the way while Iris comforted Miranda.

In the library, the truth came out.
“Back when Allie was around she kinda started putting people down, and because she was popular, I followed her around until we became friends, and I started being mean too. I never really thought much of it because she was so popular, it seemed like it was her way or the high way and that made it feel normal. Once Allie left, I sort of inherited the throne. I was the popular one, and everyone expected me to act like Allie. But now that she was gone, I could see that I was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do. I- I was just really lonely, and this is no excuse but I was honestly jealous of you guys because you were good friends and I had no close friends. I’m- I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”
Rachel knew a good apology when she saw one. “It’s okay,” she said, “even though I wouldn’t have dealt with it like you did, I can understand where you’re coming from.”
“Yeah,” Iris added, “just- just know that there’s a secret side to everyone. Like for you, you were lonely and didn’t know what to do with your inherited popularity. And Rachel, she’s quiet but really interesting if you take time to get to know her, and she’s a really good artist.”
“N-no I’m not,” Rachel said, turning pink. “And what about you, Iris?” Rachel added, trying to save face, “on the outside you look like the model student, but on the inside there’s a side of you that like cupcakes and manicotti and writing cringy fanfics, and you have a whole other life at home that you never mention at school, and by the way I’m sorry about that, but…”
Miranda smiled. “Yeah. I’m really sorry too.”
“It’s okay,” Iris said, “you’re like Loki.”
“What?”
Rachel laughed. “A lot of her cringy fanfics are about Loki.”
Now Iris was the one turning pink. “S-shut up, Rachel! What I was trying to say was like Loki, you have some complicated motives that make you do questionable things, but you come out good in the end.”
“Oh,” Miranda said, “in that case, I’ll take being Loki.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Looks like we’re friends with the God of Mischief now.”
“Wait what?” Miranda said, “nobody said anything about Loki being the God of Mischief!”
Rachel ran out the door. “Sorry guys I think it’s time for my next class! Bye!”

Iris and Miranda looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and laughed. Things were working out after all.

Word count: 1263
New total: 3793

I got 296 words in a roleplay, linking it here –> https://scratch.mit.edu/users/aquawrites/#comments-169837359 (this is not the exact comment but it's a comment in the chain)

New total is 4089 words!

Alright here's the warmup for the weekly:

This is is the ‘secret origami master’ prompt:
Salina ran up the stairs, happy to be done with school. She flew into her room, locking the door and propping her heavy backpack behind it for good measure. She pulled the curtains over the windows and set all her notifications to ‘do not disturb.’ One final sweep of the room to make sure everything was in place, and Salina was ready. She went to her dresser and opened her pajama drawer. Digging through her collection of castaway t-shirts and fuzzy pants, Salina found her Holy Grail of hidden art: A shoebox full of cranes, flowers and origami that took a lifetime to perfect. It was showtime.


Here are four limericks I wrote:

There once was a skier in Vail,
Who carried her boots in a pail.
She fell off the lift,
And got stuck in a drift,
So they sent her back home in the mail.

Swinging around upside down,
Acting like a total clown,
If you don’t take care,
Or play ‘truth or dare’,
You’ll find you have broken your crown.

It turns out the rumors are true,
So I wrote a poem in lieu,
‘Bout the time that I hiked
On trails meant for bikes
And got caught by the WVICL crew.

Somebody once told me that I
Was a total wimp if I cried.
But I know I was wrong,
And I’m truly strong,
For not keeping it all inside.

108 words for ‘secret origami master’
121 words for the limericks
Total word count is 4317

Fiction yay!! 2/3 done with the weekly *phew*

Part one (the first person memoir):
Bianca and I were at the playground, like always. We liked to go there after all the little kids were gone so we could abuse the playground equipment without getting yelled at by Karen moms for being “bad examples for their children.” Now I sat on the ground, digging a hole in the mulch, while Bianca hung upside down from the monkey bars. She was short, so she was high above the ground, unlike me whenever I tried to imitate her gymnast flips and twirls. Her long auburn hair hung down below her, turning bronze in the evening light.
“This is a beautiful day,” I said, “but it is a little cold.”
“Yeah,” Bianca replied.
This was unusual. Bianca usually had some sarcastic or witty reply to anything and everything I said.
“Bee?” I asked, looking up at her from my position on the ground.
“Yeah?”
“What’s up?”
“What?”
“You’re a lot quieter than usual.”
“Oh,” Bianca said, “I’m just deep in thought.”
Part of me wanted to dig a little deeper and figure out what exactly Bianca was thinking about, but I knew from experience that it was only going to make Bee withdraw anymore. I was a slow learner when it came to social situations, but Bianca and I had known each other for nine years, so I understood all her little quirks and nuances.
So I waited.

“Mia?” Bianca asked, “can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” turns out there was something on your mind. Maybe patience does pay off.
Bianca swung herself right side up and sat on top of the monkey bars, so I climbed up and sat next to her.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I’ve realized something about myself.”
Bianca was uncharacteristically nervous. “What is it?” I asked.
“Well… I realized that… I’ve never really felt like a girl. I’m not a girl. And- and I haven’t told anyone other than you, I’m too chicken for that, but… when we’re alone, do you think you could try to call me Ben please? And… maybe if you could say ‘he’ instead of ‘she?”
Bianca- Ben was crying now. This was maybe the third time I’d ever seen him cry, so I knew it was important.
“Of course,” I said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“T-thank you so much,” Ben said.
“Ben,” I said, “you’re my best friend. That’s never going to change.”

We sat there for a long time. The two of us, Ben and Mia. Best friends forever, no matter what.


Part two (the description of an item):
An item in my story about Ben and Mia that’s really important is the playground where the two always hang out. It’s the place where they first met in pre-k, when their moms both signed up for a play group. Neither Ben nor Mia were feeling very social that day, so when their moms were distracted, they both went and hid up on top of the playground. Mia went up there first, finding the highest spot on the playground, where the top of the twisty slide was. Ben came up soon after. When Mia saw another preschooler advancing on her territory, she at first wanted to run. Then she looked at the dress she was wearing. It was a dress her grandmother had sewn, green and yellow and great for twirling in. That coupled with the braids her mom had done made Mia feel like a fantastical fairy princess.
“Who are you?” Mia said to Ben. “I am Princess Mia of the playground kingdom.”
Mia had a pretty good vocabulary for a four year old, don’t you think?
Ben had to make up something fast. “I’m a dragon,” he said. “Roar!”
Ben chased Mia around the playground, while their moms watched, exchanging phone numbers and crossing their fingers that their kids would be in the same class when school started.

As time went on, Ben and Mia made their playground their secret meeting place, though their playground equipment of choice changed as they both got older. Eventually they migrated from playing Fairy Kingdom at the top of the slide to playing Spies underneath the playground, to doing flips and other tricks on the yellow monkey bars. When Mia hit a random growth spurt and became too tall for the monkey bars, she would sit in the mulch and admire Ben’s acrobatic ability. And they both knew that eventually they would move on from the monkey bars to some other part of the playground, however they both hoped that they would never become like the high school babysitters who just sat on the benches and texted, or SnapChatted, or whatever it is high schoolers do. But they both knew that the playground had always been special to them, Princess Mia and Ben the Dragon, and it would always remain so.

Part one: 432 words
Part two: 381 words
New total: 5130 words

Part 3 of the weekly! Yay!

Expository newspaper/magazine article:
How to participate in SWC when you are a newbie to writing and still want to get 8+ hours of sleep:

Hello there! I am a reporter for the Scratch times, and I thought I’d give you all a guide to surviving Scratch Writers’ Camp.
(and before we begin, no this is not real. This is just me being funny.)
If you don’t know, Scratch Writers’ Camp is a triannual online writing camp attended by Scratchers all around the world. We are currently in the middle of the November session, and I am going to give you a crash course to applications, writing, keeping a healthy sleep schedule while writing, and bribery.
Before the camp session starts, there are leader applications. This is where, if you want to be a SWC leader, you create a project describing yourself, your writing skills, when you’ll be online, your plans for your cabin, and whether or not you’re going to follow the rules.
If you’re lucky, your application will be accepted and you will get to be a co-leader of a cabin!
Once you have been accepted, you go around to all your friends’ profiles and bribe - I mean politely ask - them to join SWC. If you are short on time you can just spam them with, “joinSWCjoinSWCjoinSWChere’sthelink,” but if you are nice you tell them what cabin you are leading, give them a link to FAQs, and let them know when cabin applications open up.
When cabin applications open, you read the whole description/project, then leave a comment on the project telling your name, your word goal, your WPM (words per minute, how fast you type), and three names for who you want leading your cabin. Then you sit and wait, biting your nails until the last week of October.
Then, you will get a comment on your profile telling you what cabin you have been sorted in and giving you a link to confirm your sign up. If you are lucky, you have been sorted into the cabin led by your friends who keep spamming you, but if you’re like me you get sorted into a cabin with a bunch of people you don’t know. But they’re all nice, so you try to get to know them.
A lot of bribery takes place in SWC, as well as a good amount of rivalry and friendly competition. The most common form of bribery (at least to my experience) is the cabin leaders trying to get everyone to do the main cabin weekly. This is a large writing prompt that involves writing over a thousand words over the course of a week, and when submitted, gives your cabin a huge point bonus. So as you can imagine, in the spirit of CRUSHING THE COMPETITION - I mean honing your writing skills - the cabin leaders are pretty keen on having their campers do the weekly. Who could blame them?
So every week, the cabin leaders will come up with a prize. Or at least, the leaders in Fairy Tales do. I’m pretty sure they threaten people with dismemberment in Hi-Fi.
So, I’m sure that at one point you’ve heard of Word Wars.
Word Wars are when people fight each other to the death - I mean compete with each other in a friendly way - to see who can write the most words in a set amount of time. Word Wars are really fun and a little hectic. And of course there are prizes too!
Well, that’s all you need to know about SWC (or at least all I’m able to tell you at the moment because this is my first session ever and this is literally everything I know)! Please remember that SWC does not come before homework, sleep, or self-care… as much as we wish it did… and happy camping!



Opinion piece:
Why Hamsters Are Evil (And What I Intend To Do About It):
Have you ever taken a close look at a hamster? You probably haven’t. But that’s alright, just trust the process. On the outside, hamsters look like cute, innocent, furry little creatures that mean no harm to anyone. DO NOT BELIEVE IT FOR A SECOND. If you ever take the time, go outside and find a hamster. It doesn’t matter if it’s one of the wild Mountain Hamsters (cricetinae mountainis), an Urban Hamster (cricetinae metropoli), or even a Domestic Hamster (cricetinae domesticus). They are all furry little demons and cannot be trusted. Look your hamster in the eyes and you will see its blackened, twisted soul lurking within.
If you Google it, several respectable sources will tell you that hamsters originated in Syria. That’s what the hamsters want you to think. Hamsters have infiltrated the highest levels of government in our nation and around the world. They are controlling several of the brightest minds in the scientific circles and have fully monopolized the stock market. Even our education system is controlled by these tiny monstrosities. Even your best friend could be under control (I’m lookin’ at you, Luke). Trust no one. Our society is on the verge of total takeover. But how did it get that way?
Like I said earlier, hamsters have led a vast misinformation campaign about their origins. I have done extensive research, risked my life even, to show the truth. In reality, hamsters first evolved on a planet all the way across the universe. At first there was only one, a hamster named Harold. But Harold was an unusually intelligent hamster, and he soon figured out how to clone himself, using only his will and the dust from the desolate rock where he lived. Where there once was one hamster, soon there were millions. Harold’s kingdom of hamsters was quickly outgrowing its planet. So they moved on. Using hamster magic (think black magic, but more evil), the hamsters traversed the galaxy until they found the perfect planet to begin their conquest of the known universe: Earth.
(Originally they wanted Exegol, but that planet wasn’t big enough for two magical totalitarian megalomaniacs.)
Earth was small, had reasonable resources, and most importantly a population of carbon-based life-forms whose small intellects could be easily controlled without much struggle. So hamsters started quietly infiltrating Earth, starting small with one human - Jerry (Jerry’s name has been changed to protect his true identity). Jerry was perfect for their purposes: He didn’t like to make eye contact, which was good (as you might remember you can see hamsters’ souls through their eyes). Jerry had an infectious sense of humor as well, one that annoyed adults but delighted children. So the hamsters quickly moved on from Jerry to the young impressionable minds in Jerry’s school.
After that, it was easy to get the rest of the world.
And now this is the state that we’re in: Insidious rodents running around willy-nilly, taking over anyone and anything they can. Society is quickly deteriorating, setting the stage for an authoritarian hamster takeover. And most of humanity is none the wiser. As for me? I am a member of a small group of individuals who are immune to the mind-control effects of the hamsters. I have been on the run for two years now, knowing that in time my luck will run out. Eventually, the hamsters will stop trying to control me and just try to end me. And the same could happen to you. This is why I am writing this piece: To educate you on the evils of the hamsters, so hopefully you will be able to avoid the horrible fate that so many of us have met.
Now run! Before it’s too late.

Part one: 636 words
Part two: 630 words
Total word count: 6396

Daily for 11/12/21:

If Loki didn’t kiss Sylvie at some point, he was definitely going to kill her.
“I’ve been alive for over a thousand years, and you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”
Sylvie raised her eyebrows, unfazed.
“The truth is that you can’t throw a punch.”
“I can throw a punch, it’s just that… that you punch harder.”
“Sure,” Sylvie said, “let’s go with that.”
It was all Loki could do to keep himself from stabbing her.
“You’re considering stabbing me, aren’t you?”
Sylvie could clearly see right through him. Made sense, since technically they were the same person.
“Just because we’re variants of each other doesn’t mean you can read my mind,” Loki said defensively, even though Sylvie had just read his mind.
“Maybe I can,” Sylvie said, “and maybe I can’t.”
The two circled around each other like two snakes, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Simultaneously, they launched at each other. Loki punched first - but his fist connected with nothing but air.
Sylvie laughed at him. “What happened to being able to throw a punch?”
“Shut up.”
This just made Sylvie laugh even harder. “Look whose delicate little male ego is bruised! Poor Loki.”
They continued fighting.
“My ego-” Loki grunted, “Is not bruised. Nor is it delicate.”
He tried to punch her again, but Sylvie once again ducked out of his reach at the last moment.
Then there was a pause in the fighting. Loki’s heart picked up speed as Sylvie leaned in close to him - then slowed down in exasperation as she moved her hand toward his head to enchant him.
Loki grabbed her wrist and held it away from his head.
“No, no, no you are not going to get inside my brain.”
“Why? Are you scared I’ll find something in there?”
Oh, boy. Loki had to tread carefully, lest Sylvie use his words against him.
“Yes actually,” he said, holding his breath.
Surprisingly, Sylvie didn’t push it.
”Fine,” she pouted, drawing away.
Loki heaved an internal sigh of relief, though he also figured Sylvie was trying to guilt him into telling her.
“You know,” Loki said, “I actually prefer the murderous side of you to the flirty side of you.”
“I am not flirting, I’m teasing! There’s a difference.” Sylvie said.
There was a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks now, something Loki intended to exploit to his advantage as much as he could.
“Really?” he asked, “the two seem pretty similar to me.”
“Yes,” Sylvie said. “Teasing is when you want to make someone squirm. Flirting is teasing but it’s when you’re attracted to the person.”
Now she was really pink. “Which I’m not.”
Loki decided that it was in his best interests not to say anything.
“Alright,” Sylvie said, trying to change the subject, “I’m starving. Let’s go find some food.”
She grabbed a towel, mopped the sweat off her face and left the room as if nothing awkward at all had happened.
Loki followed behind, shaking his head. What have I gotten myself into?

(apologies for this cringiness)
Word count: 514 words
New total: 6910 words

Part one of the weekly:
(the sprites were the penguin, the rocket, and a pufferfish)

Once upon a time there was a penguin.
“But Stingray,” you say, “every story begins with a penguin. Give us something original!”
Well, this is no ordinary penguin. In fact, you could even go so far as to call it an extraordinary penguin.
But enough rambling, let me get to the story. And no interruptions this time.

Once upon a time there was a penguin. But this was no normal penguin.
Flippers McGraw was a legendary crimefighter.

I know what you’re going to say next. “But isn’t Feathers McGraw evil?”
What did I say about interruptions?!

Yes, Feathers McGraw is evil. But his brother, Flippers McGraw, isn’t. You see, Feathers wasn’t born evil. It’s kind of a nature-versus-nurture thing. Feathers and Flippers were twins, and as children there was a lot of fighting between the two to establish dominance. And if you haven’t seen penguins fight before, it’s a sight to see. Two birds in tuxedos rolling around on the floor, punching and kicking, yelling “why did you eat the last cookie!?!”
Quite a sight to see. Several noted psychologists, including the noted porcine Dr. Pigmund Freud, have chalked it up to the classic alpha-male behavior.

But I’m a storyteller, not a psychologist, and I’m rambling again.

You see, Flippers was older by two minutes and therefore had superior muscle strength, agility, and overall was better in fights and always won all the squabbles. Flippers was a bit of a toxic penguin as a kid, and thoroughly enjoyed torturing his younger brother by attacking him with a pufferfish every chance he got. This gave Feathers a huge insecurity complex and quite a bit of trauma. As a high schooler, he was peer-pressured into shoplifting some candy bars and found that crime was the one thing he excelled at. Well, that and his chicken impersonation.

As soon as he got out of high school, Feathers joined a crime ring, quickly rising from a lowly pickpocket to the boss (he may or may not have done a power grab, but that’s off topic). Eventually all the other members of the crime ring got caught, but not Feathers. He simply popped a rubber glove on his head and went about his business pretending to be a chicken. I told you his chicken impersonation was good!

Meanwhile, Flippers was having some problems. His conscience had finally caught up with him, and, realizing he had contributed to the making of the country’s biggest criminal, joined the law enforcement. He worked his way up the ranks (not through a power grab this time) and soon became the head of the police squad. This was making for an interesting story: The country’s most notorious criminal and the head of the police department, two brothers, in a face-off on the moon.

What do you mean, “what moon?”
Didn’t I tell you about the moon?
I guess not. Oh well, you’ll find out later. It’s bound to make national headlines.

So two penguins, one moon, and a malfunctioning rocket. What could go wrong?

Word count: 508 words
New total: 7418 words

I am putting my excerpt for SWC apps here even though it is no longer November xDD
I almost forgot to link this xD that would have been bad 0-0
Well, here you go! It's a bit long, sorry, but I'm proud of it (it was better when it was italicized asdkjsldfl)

“Hey Jax!”
“Hey, Andrew.”
The two boys greeted each other, same as always, fist-bumping in their “secret handshake” that really wasn’t much of a secret anymore, thanks to Andrew’s gossipy little sister.
As they walked down the cracked sidewalk from school to Jax’s house, they started up their usual afternoon banter.
“Careful, Jax. You step on a crack, you break your mother’s back.”
“Can I break your sister’s back instead?”
Andrew put on a contemplative face. “You know, that’s kind of a heartless and immoral thing to do. I mean, what did my sister ever do to you?”
“Sorry dude,” Jax started, but Andrew interrupted.
“I was joking! Go ahead, break my sister’s neck for all I care.”
Jax and Andrew turned around to see a little girl running down the sidewalk, her shoes slapping on the pavement.
“Not funny, Andrew!”
It was his little sister.
“Sorry, Liza,” Andrew said, “J and I almost forgot you were there.”
That was a lie. Jax and Andrew were well aware of Liza’s presence, and were hoping that if they ignored her she would magically disappear.
Liza scowled. “I’m going to tell Mom,” she said, “I’ll tell her that you wanted to break my back!”
Uh-oh. This could be bad. Andrew crouched down so he was at eye level with his sister.
“Listen, Liza,” he said, “it doesn’t have to be this way. Here,” he rooted around in his pocket, “in exchange for your silence, I’ll give you… this slightly smushed Hershey bar.”
He held out the chocolate.
Liza gave him the death glare, then shouted, “FINE!” and stomped off toward her and Andrew’s house.
Andrew sighed and mimed wiping sweat off his brow. “Phew! That was a close one.”
“And I’m pretty sure you promised me that candy bar,” Jax said jokingly.
“Not you too,” Andrew moaned, “Please. I’ve already got one annoying little sister, I don’t need two.”
Then realization dawned.
“Jax?” Andrew said, turning pale, “she never promised she wasn’t gonna tell mom.”
This was not good. Jax generally showed little negative emotion on his face, but Andrew had known him all his life, and could see that Jax’s eyes were wide with fear.
“We’re toast.”
Jax stomped on a crack in the sidewalk with all his strength.

Andrew and Jax went inside Jax’s house, greeted by the heavenly smell of potpourri. Jax’s mom was a legend among the PTA for her potpourri, and recently she had been experimenting with new combinations, in hopes of making a perfect new recipe in time for the bake sale.
The two boys went upstairs to Jax’s room before his mom could ask them how their day was.
Andrew closed the door behind him and shut the curtains, filling the bedroom with darkness.
“If we don’t figure out a way out of this, we are dead.”
“Worse than dead,” Jax said, “your mom will kill us, then dig us out of our graves and have my sister bring us back to life so she can kill us again!”
Jax’s older sister Emilia was fifteen, and she was well into her phase of blood cults and dark magic. Also she wore a lot of heavy mascara, which did not improve her appearance anywhere near as much as she thought it did, instead making her look like a sleep-deprived zombie with a vitamin D deficiency. Which actually wasn’t all that off the mark.
“Jax, wait!” Andrew said. “That’s it!”
Jax and Andrew’s best friend hive-mind activated.
“What if…” they said in unison, “we get Emilia to use her dark magic to make Liza disappear?!”
The two smiled their maniacal we're-about-to-do-something-that-will-get-us-in-trouble cheshire cat grins. Then Jax’s grin faltered.
“Andrew, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“What do you mean? It’s a great idea.”
“I dunno man… messing with the supernatural never ends well.”
Andrew and Jax stared at each other in silence for a moment, the darkness of the room casting strange shadows all around them.
“Meh, it’ll be fine,” Andrew grinned, “I’ll go get Emilia.”

Jax and Andrew stood in the backyard, watching with trepidation as Emilia drew runes on the ground with blood-red chalk, then added in more foreign shapes and symbols with white.
She lit some incense and then stood back, sipping her organic vegetable juice that looked and tasted like vomit.
“Here you go,” she said, “one genuine spell of disappearing. Just say the incantation and you’ll never have to deal with Liza again.”
“Thank you so much,” Andrew said, “you have no idea how helpful this will be.”
“Whatever,” Emilia said, rolling her eyes, “just get Liza over here and we can begin.”
“Ok,” Andrew ran out of the backyard, “I’ll go get her. I can lure her here with chocolate.”
A few minutes later, Andrew came back, dragging a disgruntled Liza by the arm.
“Alright Liza,” Andrew said, “stand in the middle of this circle for me.”
“Fine,” Liza said, stomping over to the middle of the circle. She stood there and scowled.
“Let us begin!” Emilia announced.
She began to read the incantations, chanting in a monotone voice. The sun moved behind a cloud, bathing the yard in shadows. The trees moved in a wind that had suddenly sprung up, swaying almost in rhythm with Emilia’s voice.
Emilia finished chanting, struck a match, and threw it into the middle of the circle where it landed at Liza’s feet. A fire whooshed into existence, drawing a circle of flame around Liza.
“It’s actually working,” Jax whispered to Andrew, his face alive with wonder.
“Shut up, nerd,” Emilia said, “or else this won’t work.”
She raised her skinny arms to the sky and cackled like a witch.
The fire grew taller… and then…
Nothing.

The fire died down, and Andrew prepared himself to yell at Emilia about how it was all a bunch of hocus-pocus.
Then it happened.
With a great flash of light, Andrew and Jax found themselves in the middle of the rune circle, as the fire smoldered out of existence. Jax looked down at his feet, and, with horror, found that he was fading out of existence as well.
“You tricked us!” he shouted, looking through the smoke at Emilia’s wicked smile.
Emilia and Liza laughed, Emilia’s deep-throated cackle echoing against Liza’s high-pitched dolphin laugh.
“That’s the last time you make fun of me,” Liza called out through the howling wind.
Fading away, Andrew took his last breath and glared daggers at the two girls.
“We’ll get the last word, freak squad,” he said, “you just wait and see.”