AYYY welcome to the ‘room where it happens’
this is where i keep all of my writing for SWC (for proof and to organize everything hehe),,, so yeah thats about it lol enjoy!!!!

+ 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.

11/2, 315 words:

Dear Monsieur Banana Cream Pie,
Please visit me someday soon. I miss your smooth whipped cream on top of the entire pie that makes me smile whenever it enters my mouth. Oh, how much I would give to see and taste your nice light brown crust that’s always the right amount; not too crunchy, but not too soft. I wish I could cut you like a pizza to see your slices of banana, some hidden inside, while some peeking out of the filling. There is a reason why you are my favorite flavor of pie, you know. Whoever thought of mixing bananas and cream into a pie is a genius! You should be more than grateful for your creator. If I was you, I would bow down so low that my whipped cream would touch the floor! If you don’t do that already, that is. But I’m getting off topic. Every day I beg for my parents to bring you to me, but everyday they dismiss my request. They are more than annoyed at me, but what can I say? Your lovely, delicious, no, scrumptious, taste is something I would die for. Figuratively speaking, of course. Anyways, only yesterday I realized I did not need their approval to meet you again. Please, come back home and visit me for a while! I miss you so much more than you probably realize. I want to lick your cream, the ones did not quite make it into my mouth, off of my lips with a satisfying flick of my tongue. I want to remember the growl my stomach makes when I smell you from a mile away. And I know I could just make a banana cream pie myself, but I am a terrible cook and it is way better when you are with me. A visit is all it takes.

I’ll be waiting,
Jade, your lover.

I KNOW THE LOVER PART IS SUPER CHEESY BUT I WANTED THE NUMBER OF WORDS TO LOOK GOOD OK WJABFKNOIANKLMF

+ Take the last thing one of your family members or friends said (if you can’t remember, go talk to them!) and write a story out of it. Get creative with this! Maybe you talked about what you’re eating for dinner? Perhaps you’ll write about your characters making this dish and completely ruining it! 500 words for 800 points.

11/4, 518 words:

“It’s not out yet!” My friend exclaimed as she barged back into the hallway where I had been sitting, waiting for her news.
Caitlyn’s face was still red and huffing from the sprint to the office with me. She was bent over as she tried to catch her breath, her brown hair covering her face.
“What?! But it has to be; the email said so!” I argued.
“The email was wrong,” Caitlyn said between heavy breaths.
“But I thought I saw people coming in…?” I was losing my confidence the longer I stood there.
“Oh!” Caitlyn straightened, suddenly alert. “So that’s what she meant.”
“What did who mean?” At this point I was more than annoyed with her vague responses.
“The woman at the office! She said the results were there!” Caitlyn looked as enthusiastic as my heart’s rapid beating.
“Then where?!” We questioned simultaneously.
Both of us answered the last question. We whipped our heads down the hallway, towards the drama room and raced to our destination.
We knew we were in the right spot when we saw the crowd of people surrounding a notice covered by flailing heads and screams of either joy or sorrow.
We ran into the chaos, pushing our way forward through the mess, bumping heads, elbows, and generally creating more of a mess, until our faces were almost pressed against the results.
We scanned the columns hungry, searching for our names as people surged from behind, doing the same.
It was intense. I have never been more focused in my entire life as I acknowledged each name and slowly lost motivation after each wasn’t mine of Caityln’s.
As I reached the last one, however, it read ‘Caitlyn Smith’ under a lead role, and mine shortly after, labeled as an understudy.
My heart sank the exact same time I heard Caityln’s whoop.
Our eyes locked, and I smiled, hiding my jealousy through my gritted teeth concealed under my lips.
I pushed my bushy red hair out of my eyes as I attempted to say words of congratulations before falling flat onto the floor from an unexpected push.
I lifted my hands, since I hated it when people stepped on my feet, before Caitlyn grabbed my hands and helped me up.
I avoided her eyes as I muttered a quick thanks.
There was no way I could lie to her face. But I didn’t know if Caitlyn did too.
…

How come she’s one of the main characters while I’m an understudy, I thought bitterly as we walked back towards the exit.
Her audition was way worse than mine anyways!
Too immersed with shock and anger, I didn’t even bother to look at which character I had gotten. Not that it mattered anyway. I know that whatever it was, it sucked. And it’s not like any other super lucky kid is going to suddenly catch the flu before the performance.
No wonder Caitlyn got the part; she is always perfect and lucky and kind, while I am not, literally the complete opposite.
But why does it always have to be Caitlyn and not me?

+ Have you ever had a strange dream? Dreams can be one of our best sources of inspiration. Now it’s your turn to take these dreams of yours- flush them out, and write a short excerpt on it. (If you never remember your dreams, look up “bizarre writing prompts”.) 600 words for 700 points! 200 additional points if you share your writing!

11/5, 845 words:

im in darth vader’s ship and he cuts off my head (so i had a dream, that i cant remember, but it took place in darth vader’s ship, for some reason, and i asked someone in class what their weirdest dream was and they looked at me weird and said their head got cut off once so you have this hahahha)

(REMOVED)

+ Happy Nachos Day! YUM NACHOS! We all enjoy topping our chips with a variety of ingredients to make it our own. Post four random words in a comment. Then find someone else’s comment and claim their ingredients! Make sure each word is central to your story and write for a total of 20 minutes about these ingredients. There is no minimum amount of words, but it’s worth 500 points. 200 extra points if you share your writing!

words: clover, soldier, mushroom, wall ( sorry for bad grammar and the small amount of words ;w; )

11/6, 363 words:

Robin raced past the mushrooms littered across the ground, stomping on some by accident and alert with attention, scanning the floor around her with every step.
Smiling ear to ear, she stopped in her tracks when she saw a three-leaf clover. She bent down and admired its beauty, fingering the three leaves with shocked enthusiasm.
Suddenly she couldn’t wait, and, snatching it, gently squeezed it inside her palm, not enough to hurt it, but not too lightly that it would fall from her grasp.
Robin’s eyes were bright with expectancy as she shut them tightly and rehearsed a soundless wish, her lips moving so fast they were impossible to read for any hidden watcher.
When her eyes fluttered open again, she was in an entirely different universe, it seemed.
Soldiers surrounded her, some walking along the perimeter, others standing at their designated post. They wore chain link armor, some rusted at the edges, like she had entered a medieval movie.
Robin stared in both awe and terror. She came to the conclusion that the three-leaf clover myth was real and had granted her wish. This wasn’t what she had wished for, though. So, what had happened?
Robin was idle in horror for so long that a guard asked her if she was lost, which she waved away, coming back to her senses, saying that she was fine. She decided that she had better leave before she brought more attention to herself.
She wandered along halls in a daze, for surely soldiers were not in the 21st century, she kept thinking.
She still had not thought of an answer to any of her questions when she stumbled into a room in a castle, since what else would be so immaculate and fancy?
The walls were decorated elegantly, matching the theme of the furniture and wallpaper.
Finally it clicked for her: she must be in a castle, since what else would have fancy rooms and soldiers guarding the whole place?
That thought alone scared her. Castle or not, the soldiers back home didn’t wear chain mail armor and keep swxrds close to them. They did not even have swxrds back home.
Then… where was she?

11/9, 638 words:

+ Wow- it’s been so long since SWC has started! Have there been any iconic events going on in your cabin? Maybe there has been a rivalry or someone said something iconic in your cabin! Maybe you’ve imagined a scenario that would happen in SWC! Either way, write an SWC fanfiction of 600 words for 700 points! 200 extra points if you share your writing!

The Mystery campers had just denied cookies from a Sci-Fi camper, the current first place cabin, sure that they had poisoned them like all of the other offers from the cabins trailing behind them on the leaderboard.
“We have to do something,” One leader (Jade could not remember their name —perhaps they were a co…?) announced.
Jade rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
The leader ignored her sarcasm. “Everyone is doing a good job —with finishing dailies and weeklies, I mean— but every time we start to climb the leaderboard, we descend just as fast, especially due to Sci-Fi, Poetry, Contemporary, you know the drill.” The leader —gosh, what was their name?— hesitated before continuing. “The problem is, if we reach first place, there is a ninety-nine percent chance that we will be targeted. So, maybe try finishing the weekly, or posting it, at least, on the last day to turn it in, so that the other cabins think we are weak.”
“That is a good plan,” One camper complimented, followed by murmurs of agreement.
“We could also write a lot, since words count for points in the end, along with the writing competition,” Another leader added.
“Are you done?” Jade muttered under her breath.
“Everyone is dismissed. Remember our plan, if you do, you will get an icon from Gigi!!”
Every camper rose and left to their private rooms, except for Jade.
She stayed while everyone else left and until it was impossible for the leaders to not notice her standing there.
“What is it, Jade?” One asked, exasperated.
“Why can’t we do something mysterious? We are Mystery, after all,” Jade questioned.
The leader furrowed their eyebrows. “I never said we could not.”
“Then why can’t we devise a way to steal from Sci-Fi?”
The two eavesdropping leaders inhaled sharply. “Jade, we have not succumbed to stealing.”
“Why not?” Jade asked, annoyed. Why couldn’t they give her a straight answer?
The leader sighed. “Just because we are Mystery does not mean we can do whatever we want just because we can.”
“But—” Jade protested, but the leader cut her off before she could finish.
“Goodnight.”
And just like that, the leaders left the meeting room.
…
“I’m not going to listen to them,” Jade whispered bitterly. “I can do what I want. Why should I let them boss me around?”
It was the middle of the night, and Jade was still in the room that the leaders had left hours ago. Her eyes were slits and there were dark circles underneath them, showing that she had not slept since the leaders’ departure.
“I will show them what Mystery really is.” Her eyes glittered dangerously as she finally left the room.
…
The next day, the leaders were shocked and frazzled. Chaos and screams filled the Mystery cabin while others were overly confused on what was going on. When they finally had the courage to ask, what the leaders said caused much more chaos.
“Sci-Fi’s points have been stolen!”
No one noticed that Jade was nowhere to be seen.
…
After she sneaked out of the cabin, she took a hidden path through the forest to the Sci-Fi cabin. She ignored the cuts from the scratching branches and kept a determined expression on her face as she ventured farther into enemy territory.
When she reached her destination, she was wearing a Sci-Fi camper’s uniform, from a friend, as she entered the cabin.
Jade scanned her surroundings for other campers, but no one was keeping watch, just as she had thought.
She smirked as she turned off the lights and crept towards their point hourglass, careful to not make a sound.
After reaching it with no intervention from Sci-Fi, Jade cackled as she cracked the glass hourglass, all of their points spilling out onto the floor.
“Never mess with Mystery.”

11/11, 595 words:

+ Choose one of your characters or a character from a piece of media who lives in a different world or time period to us and write 500 words in which that character encounters something from our world that doesn't exist in theirs. 700 points, and 200 extra if you share your writing!

It started as just a normal, mundane day for Robin.
The horses were lingering in the town square without their riders, the fountain sprayed at the nearby crowd instead of the sky, and Robin herself was cleaning her bow and kn!fe.
Suddenly the world began to spin. Robin stumbled, gripping onto a seat, hoping to steady herself, but found that it had disappeared, replaced by some weird contraption.
“What in the world…?” She said before falling flat on her face from the moment before.
Clutching her cheek as she rose, she held in a gasp as she surveyed her surroundings.
The town square was replaced by artificial green grass, there were no horses in sight, no other animals than dogs —when was there a type like that?— which populated the ground.
They were followed by their owners, who were probably the strangest part of the whole ordeal. Instead of chain link armor for the men or dresses for the women, they were wearing an abundance of outfits. Some girls were wearing shirts —since when was that legal?—, no dresses were in sight, and no one person was wearing the same thing.
Roughly a mile away, instead of forests and dirt paths, —oh, what was that thing on the ground?— there were bottles and trash littering the ground and a few towers that were so tall that they seemed to touch the sky. They were lit and bright with most colors from the spectrum, illuminating the dark landscape with the lamps.
Robin fell back onto the floor, heavily confused and dizzy. What had happened?
Then she remembered the horrid temptation of entering the building. Robin had never seen it before and decided to check it out.
The manager had greeted her at the lobby and she had been there for… how long?
She began to hyperventilate. But she couldn’t have stayed inside there for millennia, only a few hours, at most.
Her gut thought otherwise.
This was not her time, not even close! So what did the building have to do with it?
Robin thought of an impossible reality, but she decided to try anyway. Besides, what choice did she have?
She scanned the apartments, but stopped soon after when their names were written in a different language than the one she was used to.
Most of her wanted to quit, —why would it be any different?— but she continued nevertheless.
She must have circled the whole city by the time she found it. Bright lights blinded her, making her squint to read its name. The Lotus Casino.
Robin froze. It was the same building!
She did not know if that was a good or bad thing, but she pressed forward.
When she reached the front steps, the door flung open, narrowly missing her face. It was followed by three kids, —one with goat legs?!— whom she questioned before they had a chance to escape.
“Why are you running?” She said, surprised that she had spoken a different language.
For a split second they were terrified, until they looked her up and down. Their expression turned softer, noticing how she was only a few years older than them, not as old as one of the staff from the building.
“You’ve been there?”
Robin nodded vigorously. “I… don’t know where I am.”
Their eyes widened. “Uhh… could you tell us what year it is?
The question was easier than she had expected. “1472.”
They looked at each other quizzically before turning back and staring at her pitifully. “It’s the year 2010.”

11/12, 515 words:

+ Choose one (or more!) of these pieces of dialogue, then continue it! You can always edit it a tad bit to fit better, but keep the main idea of the prompt. We got all our prompts from here: https://writetodone.com/dialogue-prompts/ 400 words for 500 points and 200 additional points if you share your writing!

“Do you think we should tell the boss that we blew up that planet, or just forget about it?” Jackson 412 asked with a nervous edge in his voice.
“M-maybe…” I trailed off, thinking about the consequences if the boss found out. “But you know how the boss acts when he realizes we lie…”
Confused? Yeah, me too. You see, we were appointed to demolish a certain planet to keep one of the boss’s enemies from attacking our planet (you know, the usual workload).
And, normally, I would have followed through with the plan, even though I hate causing destruction and doing his work for him. But, as an enslaved servant, I do not really have a say in the matter.
Anyways, we had lost the tool required to zap it, so here we are. The problem is, I am the one who caused it.
As I mentioned earlier, I don’t like causing destruction and literally everything the boss does and tells me to do. So, when Jackson 412 was not looking and while we were close to approaching the planet, I chucked it out of our spaceship’s window and into the milky way.
But, the longer we just sat there, staring at the obviously unharmed planet, the more I felt guilty for my actions. Because what would happen once we had either confessed or the boss had discovered what we had done?
“So…” Jackson 412 faltered.
“Let’s not tell him,” I concluded. “It’s better not to lie than lie at all.”
“But it is not like he will not notice that the planet is still visible,” He said, voicing the concern that I had tried to ignore. “So, should we tell the truth?”
I shrugged, trying to look like I did not truly care and not to let the panic be expressed on my face like how it was shown with the rapid beating of my heart.
“Do whatever,” I said as I steered the spaceship back towards our headquarters.
…
“You did WHAT?!”
I winced as I watched the boss pace around the room, his face red with fury.
I usually preferred for Jackson 412 to do the talking, but at the moment his head was down and his eyes were glued to the floor.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, we lost the Elucidator (will anyone get the reference—), sir.”
I was determined to look and sound more confident than I felt, but the boss’s gaze did not help.
“And how exactly did this happen?” He questioned, not shouting anymore, but keeping his voice down with controlled anger, making his voice slightly shaky.
I gulped. This was harder than I had expected, and my partner was not any help either.
“I…do not know, sir. I was pretty sure I had it when we started, but when we reached Plumeria, it was not there anymore.”
He looked at Jackson 412. “412, is this true?”
Jackson 412 nodded, but still did not speak.
The boss sighed. “You are dismissed.”
I turned to leave, but before I could, the boss stopped me. “Not Harriet 413. I’m not done with you yet.”

11/14, 207 words:

+ Today’s National Pickle Day! What is your favorite fruit and veggie? Create a character based off of those two foods combined, and then write 200 words describing them to earn 400 points for your cabin!

Marrot is based on a mango and a carrot (hence the name). This also concludes that her personality is based on the food she is intertwined with. For example, because carrots are linked to higher levels of optimism, Marrot is always very cheerful, so much so that no one ever sees her without a smile on her face. But, because of this trait, she can easily be startled, angered, and sad by other people’s actions. So, if you hurt or attempt to hurt her in any way, Marrot will find a way to take revenge. In addition, mangoes love and adore life, so they can not afford to miss even a single minute of it. They live the life of the party and tend to embrace their future ambitiously, like to talk about themselves a lot, and therefore can be easily distracted by the smallest of things and tend to miss the big picture. Furthermore, it is not only Marrot’s personalities that are intertwined: her appearance is too. She still has the signature mango body, but the yellow shape is covered with orange stripes, like multiple carrots solidified and melted into the skin. Marrot is also very healthy due to the nutrients that mangoes and carrots provide.

11/18, 718 words:

+ Go to https://www.chosic.com/random-songs-generator-with-links-to-spotify-and-youtube/ and generate a random song! Listen to the song and find a phrase or lyric that you like and use that as your prompt!! Write 600 words for 800 points!

Memories by Maroon 5 - “Cause the drinks bring back all the memories, and the memories bring back you”

Jealousy.
The evil I can never seem to part from, not even in the spotlight.
But the spotlight is on me now, so I better put on a show.
I take a deep breath and push away my bitter thoughts, aiming for a genuine smile. But like every time I see myself in a mirror, my disguise fools no one, especially not her. But I don’t have time to wait.
“A toast to the groom!” The crowd echoes my toasts as I mentally go down my check list. No shaky voice, check.
“To the bride!” Still got it.
“From your sister!” Come on, only one more time, Angelica. Easy.
“May you always…” Why am I hesitating? “…be satisfied.”
A whirlwind of memories brings me back to reality with a jolt.
Instead of being surrounded by a clueless crowd in my sister’s wedding party, everything decorated elegantly and all painted white, I gaze at her husband from across the room, unable to keep my eyes off of him. My heart beating, I feel my cheeks flush as he greets me, which, for some reason, I can not move my response past the lump in my throat. And then, just like that, nothing else mattered but his intelligent eyes and hunger-pang frame.
Fast forward to a day later, I face her husband at a candlelit dinner that took place a few nights before the wedding.
His violet blue eyes gazed into mine, and I remember swearing that I could see right into his mind, see all of his genius works and inventions in the always spinning gears found inside his brain. The intelligence that seemed to pour out into his speech and onto his appearance.
He leaned towards me and said, “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.”
I pulled away, abruptly denying it with barely any idea of what I was saying. I could feel my defensive walls going up. “I’m sure you don’t know what you mean, you forget yourself.”
He smiled and reached out his hand. “You’re like me; I’m never satisfied.”
“Is that right?” I asked, the corners of my mouth slowly twitching into a smile, my walls retracting.
“I’ve never been satisfied,” He confirmed.
I placed my hand over his. “My name is Angelica Schuyler,” I offered.
“Alexander Hamilton.”
“Where’s your family from?” Alexander hesitated, his eyes flitting around the room as if he were looking for the exit and toying with his hands like it was an uncomfortable subject for him.
“Unimportant,” He said, withdrawing his hand and getting up from the table. “There’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait.”
For minutes I stood there, fantasizing and still staring in awe at where he had been sitting a moment earlier. Alexander’s violet blue eyes kept coming back to me, his handsome face making me swoon even in my head. It was my first true feeling of love.
But when I headed back to the party, I stopped dead in my tracks as I looked at my sister and what she was staring at from across the room.
It was Alexander.
My heart began to race, drowning out the sounds of the music and chatter from the guests. My head swirled and I became so incredibly dizzy I almost fell over if it weren’t for Eliza’s hand on my shoulder keeping me aloft while telling me excitedly about him.
Then I made the choice that I still regret to this day: I walked across the room and led him towards Eliza and introduced her to him, where they both fell helplessly in love.
They wrote letters to each other every day. I became sour after asking her to form a harem, which she rejected with a laugh.
Then came the wedding day.
Every night, I dreamt of him. His eyes never left the frame of the only memories I had left of my first love.
But sacrifices have to be made. And especially for my sister, the person I know like my own mind, who you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind.
And so, I thought to myself, Chin up.
And when the coronation came, I realized that he was right. That Alexander was right.
That I will never be satisfied.

11/19, 545 words:

+ Pick a character from a book, show, or movie. Now, pick a character from your own story and write 500 words putting your character in the other character’s universe. Would they get along well? Would your character help the other character solve a mystery or accomplish a goal? Or would they be enemies? The possibilities are endless! This is worth 600 points and an additional 200 points if you share your writing.

It all started with the shaking,
When I felt it, I thought it was an earthquake. But as soon as I hastily stumbled towards the nearest structure and bent down, the shaking stopped immediately.
When I got up again, I had entered an entirely different realm.
The usual palm trees, luxurious beaches, and people and trash littered across it, children making sand-castles or stepping their feet into the ocean only to run away from the cold, the tan surfers who barely fall down, and the people lying on their mats, tanning, had all disappeared. They had all been replaced with the dark of the night, only illuminated by the bright neon lights from the skyscrapers scattered around the area that I had assumed to be somewhere in New York.
The stars were not visible from the thick fog and pollution, and many people roamed the perimeter, most shopping, some just out for a night’s stroll.
In only my medieval dress that provided no form of warmth, the cold seeped into my veins quickly, so I searched for a place to stay as I rubbed my shoulders that were already freezing.
I spotted a hotel and decided that was my only choice, though I was not sure if I still had any of my money with me, but I was too cold to check myself.
Turning to run, I accidentally bumped into someone on my way. I fell on the floor hard, dazed and dizzy.
“Are you okay?” A voice called out faintly.
A hand reached out to grab me, and I grasped it thankfully.
“Sorry, I did not see—” I stopped talking when I finally glanced at the stranger’s face.
Tan skin, messy black hair that stuck up at the end, and ocean blue eyes.
My first thought: Uh-oh.
My kind had told me about other races, and the one I was looking at was heavily well known. But, they also said to never interfere with their adventures. And there I was, in front of one of the most famous demigods in the entire world: Perseus Jackson.
For a while I did not breathe, unsure of what to do or say and still in shock from the encounter.
Suddenly, I unfroze and wriggled my hand out of his grip, sprinting towards the hotel.
“Hey, wait up!”
No, no, no, no no! This can not be happening!
Unfortunately, he caught up to me. Panting, he grabbed my wrist again, and, in a anxious protest I tried to shake it off, but he gripped it tighter, freezing me in place.
“…I need answers.” Shoot. “First of all, who are you?”
My heart started pumping. “That is none of your business.”
He tightened his grasp. In a slight panic, I remembered the strength he had and how easily he could conjure a wave or a tsunami or something. Panic made me give in. “Robin Eastwood.”
“I’m—”
“Percy Jackson, I know.”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “How do you know me? Were you one of Luke’s crew?”
“No, I—”I gulped at his intense stare. Looking into his dangerously twinkling green eyes, I knew I could not lie to him. But not now, not here.
“I will explain on the way.”
Percy’s brows furrowed. “To where?”
“Camp Half-Blood.”

11/20, 305 words:

+ National absurdity day! Ever wanted to write something you thought would make no sense at all? Today’s that day to try it out! The best way to clean things up that you believe make no sense is to get other’s input. So now that you’ve written at least 300 words that may not make sense, comment on another camper’s work and give them constructive critique! Maybe you talk about what made sense, or what you thought was so cool. Once you’ve done this, you may gain 400 points.

I sprinted towards the edge of the cliff, the cold air racing past my face, and, with a rush of adrenaline, my boots clanking against the rocky ground, I held my breath and poised my body downwards towards the smell of saltwater. I dove 630 feet down into the river, whooping with joy as I closed towards it. As a daughter of Demeter, this is what I was born to do! I was in my haven of sorts, except it was real this time, not just a fantasy or a dream. But, an inch to the surface, I freezed, ripples already appearing on it like time had not stopped. I was suddenly shot backwards, me with a confused expression on my face as I waited to feel the impact of the water against my skin. Frozen in time, I attempted to wriggle, you know, just to see what would happen if I did, which sent me full speed ahead towards… concrete? I screamed an prayed as acknowledge my annoyingly slow and stupid end, but then my surroundings changed again. Immediately I began zooming through outer space, somehow in a space suit, shooting past asteroids, meteoroids, and even astronauts watching from a window inside the ISS with a bewildered and awed expression, one even slowly waved at me, their mouth open in shock, as I passed. I waved back, but my joy was cut short by my soundless yell as I noticed the meteor in my path. Wishing I had learned to navigate through space in school, why can’t they teach us useful skills for once? I then closed my eyes in terror, not wanting to see the sight of my body splitting apart from the crash. But the sight never came. Only the sound of me splashing into the saltwater river headfirst and heavily unprepared.

11/22, 455 words:

+ Google Translate Song Day! Take some lyrics from any song at all, and put it through Google Translate at least 5 times. Try putting it through as many times as it takes to make your song unrecognizable. Then write a short story based off of your new weird lyrics! 400 words for 500 points. 200 more points if you share your writing!

“Everyone surrenders to America's hottest French wrestler”

“The troops are not coming to our aid, sire.”
“WHAT?!” The condescending stare of the general made me gulp nervously. He barely got angry, and when he did, the situation was truly troubling.
“A message just arrived saying that they won’t be able to make it on time,” I said, confirming the general’s worst fears.
You see, almost a year into the American Revolution, we were relying on our allies’ troops to save us from the more than 30,000 enemy warriors that surrounded us on all sides that were slowly advancing every minute, so that we would not be able to get in or out of the trap and battle.
Once we were notified of this information, we sent for our allies to help us by surprise attacking them, since we had still kept our allies a secret to the outside world. It was a perfect plan.
Except without our allies, we were doomed.
The general paced, his brows furrowing together like it always did when he was thinking hard, especially when we were hopeless. That thought did not make me feel any better, however.
“We will have to improvise, then,” He said, still pacing the room. “What of the messenger?”
“Excuse me, sire?” I asked, thoroughly perplexed by what he was asking me to do.
“Can he be of some use?” He stated.
“In the war, sire?” I questioned, asking for clarification.
He nodded, waiting for my response with his eyes glued to mine.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, he is from the French troops, if that is what you mean, sire,” I said.
“Then he shall work,” The general said, making as much sense as he had before.
“Uh, sire…?”
I wished that he would give me more information, but he dismissed me with a mere wave of his hand, saying “You can go now. Send for the French soldier.”
I heard him muttering more battle plans and military strategies and tactics on my way out, still deep in thought, it seemed, and I became very concerned that he would work himself too hard like he had last time, which took place not even a month ago.
I brushed away my worries, however, focusing on the French man.
When I reached him, I inhaled and fought hard to stop the blush from appearing upon my face.
He was… well, hot. I will spare you the details.
“The…” I found it hard to speak all of the sudden. I cleared and decided to start again, from the top. “The general needs you in his office, Mr…”
He laughed. Gosh, what a hearty sound. “Just call me Lafayette.”
“Monsieur Lafayette, please accompany me to his office.”
He grinned. “Then, by all means, lead the way.”

11/24, 425 words:

+ The Writing Competition closes at 11:59 PM UTC today. Celebrate unique talent day! Create a character with a unique talent and write 400 words of a scene of them using that talent for 500 points. If you share your writing, you can earn an additional 200 points.

I barged through the bar doors, slamming them closed in a panic. I was safe, but just for now. Who knows what tricks George had in store.
Nevertheless, still panting from the close encounter, I ordered a drink and decided to relax while I could.
Well, that worked out great.
As soon as I had my drink in hand, I saw them closing in all around me, sneaking in through the shadows and using them to their advantage. I saw shadows, only spotting the members when they moved.
Before I knew it, I was surrounded. And the only way out of a fight is to attack first. And so, I take a deep breath and whip around on my stool, aiming my sword at the attacker from behind me, my weapon at his throat.
I heard screams, glasses breaking, and customers ducking under the countertops while my enemies pulled out their own weapons.
“Stop!” I commanded, tightening my grip on my sword. “Drop your weapons or he—“ I pointed to the vulnerable attacker, who was gulping nervously, “—gets it.”
“I can spare him.” It was my turn to gulp. It was George, of course.
And so, I followed his orders and attacked. And that is when all chaos broke loose.
Other attackers quickly advanced towards me as soon as my sword sliced through the neck like butter —not something I would like to see again, by the way. I rate the experience one out of five stars.
I knew that my only chance would be to disarm all of them, and then work from there. But how…?
And so, like always, I thought on the fly.
For one, I used the disarming sword technique, but it took a lot out of me. So, rushed, I decided to just keep punching and kicking him. You never know.
And that is two down, four to go.
I mixed up the strategies, forcing a well-aimed kick at one, punching another before he could react, and winning a deadly duel with the other.
The last one standing was George. I had defeated him once before, so then why was I shaking?
He laughed when he noticed the shaking that I had failed to cover up.
“It is truly a wonder how you defeated me the first time around.”
That triggered it.
Anger pulsed through my veins, and an energy I had never felt before soared through me as I ran towards George, defeating him with a super-human strength that definitely was not mine. It could not be mine. Right?

11/29, 500 words (exactly .///.):

+ The co/hosts have taken lots of time to organize SWC. Write a story about how chaotic you think it is to host such a massive camp! We’d love to see how you guys think our discussions go ;) Do we eat mangoes while debating over how tyrannical Alba’s been? Or perhaps we have to threaten Sini to get some sleep while she stalks our conversations in the bushes? 500 words for 800 points. 300 extra points if you share what you wrote. (Great way to rack up last minute points!)

Alba slammed her fist down on the meeting table to silence the other (co)hosts’ side conversations that had spread widely during the past few minutes to stop the eerie silence that had been filling the room.
“We have an important matter to discuss, so listen up!”
Birdi straightened and hid the mango she had been eating a moment before underneath the table.
“Now that we have chosen all of the leaders and they have picked all of their co-leaders, it is time to discuss the matter of dailies and weeklies,” Alba stated. A light sparked in her eyes like when she was debating whether to burn something to smithereens or not as she continued, saying, “Because we made last session so difficult, this time it will be harder than ever to make them much more challenging.”
Bakie raised her hand. “Yes?”
“Uh, what about a two thousand or maybe even three thousand word limit for the last part of the first weekly?” Birdi suggested.
Alba stroked her chin. “That could work. But we should lower it to two thousand, so we can make the last weekly the most challenging of all of them put together.”
“That’s smart,” Honey said approvingly. “But what of the dailies?”
Kat snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” All of the (co)hosts asked as they impatiently waited for Kat to continue speaking.
Kat rubbed her hands together and gave a sly grin, a mischievous twinkle appearing in her eyes. “If we make the number of words for the daily, then no one will be able to complete it— what, with school and all. But, and here is the best part: we make the amount of points super low!”
“That… that can actually work!” Alba says as she considers the plan. “Kat, you are a genius!”
“Why, of course I am!” Kat says, smugly grinning ear to ear. “Wait, I wasn’t one before?”
“Well, I guess that is pretty much all of the news I have to share,” Alba says, abruptly changing the subject.
“But,” She adds as she notices some of the hosts and co-hosts were standing up and pushing in their chairs, anxious to leave soon. “I will give an example of /my/ brilliant idea to see if this is the right way to go.”
Everyone silently pushed in and sat back down in their chairs, Birdi choosing that moment to finally finish her mango while Alba was distracted at the commotion.
“So, how about this: Write about your favorite or even more than one favorite food you enjoy eating. Describe how it tastes, looks, old memories, and how it feels using one thousand words! Share a link to your story to award an extra five hundred points to your cabin.”
Alba got a standing ovation from hers and /definitely/ not Kat’s wonderful idea. Birdi even passed around a mango for each host and co-host to celebrate the occasion as they planned out the remaining dailies and weeklies using the new method.

Part 1, 237 words:

+ Design two characters and focus on their personalities and how this could affect their character voices. Then, write 200 words of dialogue between your two characters.

“Is he okay?!” Robin said as she barged through the hospital door, out of breath and frazzled, loose strands of her braids plastered on her forehead with sweat.
“Robin, calm down—”
“Answer me!”
Troy sighed. “You don’t have to get so worked up about everything, y’know.”
Robin’s cold glare told him she still wanted an answer.
“He’s fine. I would have told you if something was wrong,” Troy replied, still irritatingly composed and tranquil.
“Fine is not good,” Robin shot back, her brows furrowed with worry. Troy noticed that the circles under her eyes were darker than normal.
“Trust me, he’s in excellent health.”
“Then how come he isn’t healed yet!”
Troy ran his hand through his hair with annoyance. “Healing takes time.”
“So, he isn’t healed?”
Troy inhaled sharply, letting his guard down for a moment, surprised that Robin caught his lie. He turned around, not willing to meet her eyes. “I never said that.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” This time, her voice was filled with distress.
Troy knew that Robin had caught on to his act, boy, that girl’s insanely smart, but he kept it up anyway.
“Good grief, Robin. Not everything is the end of the world.”
“Troy. Stop avoiding my questions. All I want is to know if Joe is okay, and I won’t take a lie for an answer.”
Troy stayed silent, his back to Robin.
“Troy…?”

Part 2, 536 words:

Take the two characters from before: It’s time to refine their motivations and plan out a character arc. Write a 500 word scene depicting a turning point for one of your characters - maybe their motivations change, or an event kickstarts their character arc.

The cold of the night brought a feeling over me that I hadn’t felt …in a long time.
It sucked me straight into the past, making me collapse onto the sidewalk, the street lights brightening, zooming in and out of focus, blinding me and setting my head on fire before blacking out completely.
I was seven, not fourteen, my innocent black braids flying as I raced towards my parents, about to leave for work.
I tugged on the cuffs of their pants, tugging and beckoning them towards something I had been working on a few minutes before.
“Look what I made, mother!” I was smiling ear to ear, waiting for their praise, as I added, “Isn’t it amazing, pops?”
My parents were all smiles too, but it faded when they saw what I had done. Praise seemed not to be something that was on their mind when they viewed my creation.
I had crafted a card tower that soared a couple of feet into the air, using five boxes of cards for the architectural design. Seeing the creation made me beam and filled me with a sense of pride I had never felt as strong before in my life, but it would not last for long.
My father immediately knocked it over, throwing my hours of work and precision down the drain. The sound of the falling cards made my heart sink and broke a pipe inside me, because how else could I have sobbed for hours on end?
My first thought was that I was not supposed to use the cards and forgot that they told me not to touch them, since that happened occasionally. I started to apologize for my wrongdoing when my mother said something that I remember to this day.
Through my pained vision and sounds of wailing, I saw her eyes blaze as she said, “Cards are supposed to be used for playing, not building! Do you hear me?! Never force things to do what they are not supposed to do. Gosh, why do you have to be so dim all of the time!”
And, thinking I could not hear her, she muttered to her husband, “Why couldn’t we have a smarter child?”
They left me weeping on the carpet without a care in the world, my self-esteem lowering along with my confidence and humanity. It was there where I had felt the warmth and care leave my body, replacing it with a feeling of coldness and loneliness.
I had run away later that evening because there was no way I was going to stay with a sorry excuse for a family.
On my way out, I grabbed a kn!fe from a random kitchen drawer, still hurt from my parents’ encounter. I attempted to cut my hair, ready for a change, though what type, I had no clue yet.
When cutting my hair to chin length, I accidentally cut open a gash on my chin, making a scar I still have and probably will have on my dead body as well.
And every time my fingers feel the groove the kn!fe made, I remember this memory and the feeling of forlorn that had crept into my heart that day.

Part 3, 250 words:

+ Now you have characters, it’s time for a villain! You can either design a whole new one (be sure to include a distinct character voice, motivations and a character arc!) or use/modify one of the characters you’ve already designed for this weekly.

Edward, the villain of the story, is, like I said earlier, very bossy. He is hot tempered, pushy, and turned evil due to his family’s words. Even after they passed, which was totally not because of him, by the way, there is still a part of him who wants to prove to them that he is better than they think. This is also why he wants to rule the world; he wants to be superior by leading others due to his family’s distrust in his abilities. He mostly talks in short, snappy, phrases, as he is always in a bad mood, concerned with making even a single mistake. His skin is as pale as a ghost, his eyes are hollow and black that seem to follow everyone, no matter where he is positioned or the victim he is observing. Edward always tries to slick his hair back, since his parents would get angry every time his hair looked like a brush did not touch it, though that was never the case, but it never works and stays bushy and curly. He dresses in a simple white dress shirt and suspenders the same color as his eyes. Edward’s fatal flaw is that because he frets over every little mistake, he fails to notice the big picture. And when he does eventually fail, he goes into a mad rage, killing anyone in his path, who is mostly his staff, causing more problems and lowering his self-esteem even more than it was before.

I changed his name from Troy to Edward since he looks like one of my oc’s ^^

Part 4, 1031 words:

Write a 1000 word story from your villain’s point of view, including the characters and character arcs you have planned.

“We found an intruder, sir,” A guard reported.
“Bring them in, then,” I said, irritated, not bothering to turn to face the guard.
Probably another madman, I thought, annoyed, as I moved to face the door, waiting impatiently.
What they brought in shocked me even more.
It was… a girl. She had to be thirteen or fourteen at most, with black hair streaked with blonde and dark skin. Her periwinkle eyes shone with anger as she attempted to kick the shins of the guards that were struggling to keep her in place.
“Get. Off. Me,” She muttered when the guards held her arms behind her back tightly.
I laughed at her rebellious spirit. “Well, well, what do we have here?”
She glared at me, refusing to say a word. If I could only tell you what was running through her head when she saw me.
Tapping my foot against the pristine tile floor, I looked at the guards for information.
One cleared his throat nervously. “We, uh, did not get her name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Now would be a great time to do that.”
But, as I stared at her periwinkle eyes locked on my gaze, they looked more and more familiar the longer I lingered.
“Robin,” I answered before the guards had a chance to ask.
The name sent shivers down my spine as it brought back memories I had longed to forget so many years ago.
…
I was eight years old, not fifteen. I was giggling along with a girl who looked a year younger than me. Her black hair, highlighted with blonde, was splayed across her shoulders, her periwinkle eyes wide with interest.
We had built a tower out of cards, the structure so large that it was taller than both of us put together.
“Let’s go show mommy and daddy!” The girl exclaimed.
We dashed over to our parents as they were about to leave for work.
Tugging on the cuffs of the pants, we said, “Look what we made!”
Pulling them towards our creation, our parents followed until we arrived at the destination.
We looked at the architecture with pride, but our parents did not match our enthusiasm.
“Isn’t it amazing?” I questioned after they stared at it for ages without any comments of praise or disapproval.
That was when my father swung his hand towards our hours of work, knocking it down with our creativity, unity, and humanity. The sound of the cards falling made me flinch, but the girl took it worse.
She began to sob, beginning the sequence of wailing for hours on end.
My first thought was that I had took too many boxes of cards or that my parents had declared the cards off-limits, and I had forgotten. But, what happened was much worse.
My mother’s eyes blazing, she yelled, “Cards are used for playing, not for making towers! Do you hear me, children?! Never use something for a purpose it was not originally used to do!”
And, thinking she was out of our earshot, she said to her husband while walking away from us, “Gosh, why do they have to be so dim!”
With that, the girl’s weeping grew louder and did not stop until I had come out of my shock and calmed her down.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
Teary eyed, she looked up at me, almost pleading. “Please do not tell them, Eddy.”
“Tell who what?”
“Mommy and Daddy that I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?”
She nodded. “I’m not staying with sorry excuses for parents.”
And, understanding her choice, since she probably felt more forlorn than me, I sighed saying, “Okay. Stay safe, Robin.”
…
“Umm, Robin what, sir?”
“Her name.”
The two guards looked at each other like they had thought I was going insane.
“And you know that because…?”
“We’ve met before.”
Their perplexed expression did not change.
I sighed. “You can leave.”
“But—”
“Go!” I shot back, cutting them off before they could finish.
My condescending gaze finally persuaded them to follow my instructions.
We began our delayed reunion once the door shut behind them.
“You’ve grown,” Robin mused.
My expression softened. “Come here.”
I cut off the rope binding her wrists that the guards had put on her before they left, not trusting her to be alone with me, but who could blame them; she had been feisty even as a toddler.
“How have you been?” I asked, beckoning her to sit with me.
“As good as you can expect when you are constantly on the run for eight years,” Robin muttered bitterly while she spread herself on the couch.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, genuinely meaning it.
She gazed up at me wistfully. “You’ve changed, Edward. I’m not sure if that is a good or bad thing.”
We sat and stared at the floor in silence for a minutes before I finally broke it.
“So, what were you doing on my private property?” I asked, curious.
Robin laughed. “That? I was just browsing.”
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the whole truth.
“Oh, fine!” Robin said, between chuckles. “Forgot how pushy you were. Anyways, I heard your name in the newspaper someday and decided to visit you.”
“Well, our time is up,” I said, checking my watch. “Nice seeing you again, but I have important business to attend to.”
Robin stood up, her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, ‘our time is up’? It has only been a few minutes! Can’t you stay a bit longer?”
I smirked. “Thought you would say that. So, you would like to spend more time together?”
She nodded her head vigorously.
“I’ll see you at the execution, then.”
I pressed a button on one of the remotes on the table in front of us, sounding an alarm and the sounds of footsteps of the guards coming towards us.
“What?” She spluttered. “But we’re family!”
“And see how that worked out with our parents.” Robin flinched. “Put what we had aside, you invaded into my manor, which is punishable by death.”
The guards barged into the room, flinging the doors open and heading towards Robin.
“But—”
“Goodbye, Robin.”

+ Start writing poems, and don’t stop until you’ve written at least 100 words! You could write 1 poem or 10, it doesn’t matter! (120 words total)

+ Without planning or thinking beforehand, write 100 words as you design a character based on the prompt “secret origami expert” (110 words)

Olivia Smith is the generic antisocial shy kid in the corner. This is not because her idle pose is the shy fingers, however, though that does count for something; it is mostly because of her personality. For example, during class, she only talks when she is forced to and spares everyone the details of her personal life, preferring to listen to others’ stories over hers. The downside to this, however, is that, since she is a very versatile and talented person, people do not pay much attention to her even though she has lots to offer. For one thing, she is very skilled at origami and is fluent in French.

Exploring Fiction

+ 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 300! (321 words)

Sad:

The hurricane was closing in. It had just swept away Jade’s school, sending more tears to her eyes as she clung onto her family, frightened, forlorn, and heavily depressed. She had watched entire buildings being ripped and torn as they left the ground and returned as shreds, including her own house. Everything that she had lived for had disappeared just like that. Her house, her sisters, and now her school. She had been rich, dressed in dresses and spoiled rotten. Now, clothed in rags, she was constantly hoping and praying that she would survive the night. What is the point of hoping, she had thought, when there is nothing left to hope for? (113)

Happy:

The hurricane had veered away from her town after a long hour full of panicking and stress. A hurricane had never hit her town before, well, during her lifetime, at least, so she had overreacted. But there was no need as Jade watched the hurricane become a nightmare to a speck in the distance. She let out a breath she had not-knowingly been holding in, happy that her family was still in one piece. It hadn’t even destroyed any buildings nearby! The more that she thought about it, the more she realized that it just swirled around apartments, not really attacking. Jade grinned, gleeful that everything was alright. (108)

Humorous, free choice (CRINGE ALERT):

After she evacuated her household along with her family, Jade, for a few hours, watched from a mile away from the hurricane. She saw it cause destruction, demolishing anything that stood in its path. And, as it swept away her school with seemingly no effort, she probably should have felt sad, depressed, or angst, but she did not feel even a single one of those emotions. Instead, flipping her hair, she commented, “I never liked that school anyways.” Her parents stared at her in shock before going into a possibly everlasting fit of giggles, which Jade joined in with them. (100)

+ Pick three genres (remember that you are not limited to genres that have SWC cabins - romance, drama, and humour, just to name a few, are all valid genres too despite not having cabins!) and write a 300 word scene blending the three genres together. Maybe you write about some sci-fi detectives investigating a creepy mystery or fan-fiction about your favourite fantasy series presented through poetry - go wild!

A realistic and *heavily* dramatic mystery (415 words)

My walkie-talkie buzzed.
“Robin, we need you in the Math classroom.”
“On it,” I said through the walkie-talkie, shoving it back into my coat pocket.
My heart beating, I stumbled through the endless hallways, not lost, but terrified of what awaited at the destination.
When I finally barged into the room, I stopped dead in my tracks at what I saw.
Papers —math tests maybe?— covered the usually spotless floor, filled with dirty footprints and crumpled with mistreatment. Chairs were placed randomly across the room, flipped on one side like the desks themselves. Decorations had been torn down and other furniture laid in pieces. The only thing that was normal was the chalkboard, still inscribed with the day’s lesson, as if nothing had changed.
“What,” I said between panting. “happened?”
“That’s up to you, detective.” My boss walked out of the shadows, making me jump.
“Haha, very funny…” I said, failing to get rid of the nervous edge in my voice. “But what really happened, sir?”
“Someone stole the answer key for the CAASPP test tomorrow.”
I faked a gasp. “What bad security.”
My boss rolled his eyes. “So, back to the topic at hand, I was about to say that the school appointed you to find the robber.”
“And they don’t believe it’s me?” Teachers are so gullible.
“Is it?” Like someone I know, it seems.
I laughed. “Jeez, Laurens, I was just joking.”
He raised an eyebrow, but let it slide nevertheless. “Just do your thing; I’ll be waiting.”
And with that, he left me alone in the crime scene, still collecting my thoughts.
Over the next few days, I interrogated the suspects that the math teacher recommended, which was basically her entire seventh period class, since she found the key missing only after she had returned from leading the kids outside.
The only information I had pieced together was that the robber had come in when all of the students and staff had left the building; a few minutes after the bell had rung.
After having reached no conclusion whatsoever after three days of work, I flopped onto my bed, tired from the day’s work.
But then, I remembered that the school was waiting for me. Their hope rested on my shoulders, so much trust in me that they had been willing to postpone the test until I had cracked the case.
I grinned, knowing that my plan was finally in motion.
No one would be able to stop me now.

Exploring Non-Fiction

+ Write a 600 word piece (an information report, if you will) all about something! You can pick any topic (e.g. frogs). Include facts and lots of information, but keep your opinion out of it! (602 words)

Some may think that video games are addicting, misleading and unhealthy, but this short informational report will show you why kids enjoy them so much and the many advantages video games have to offer. This essay will cover a few topics including hand-eye coordination, fitness, and a sample of a few acclaimed games, along with the downsides of playing video games too often and for too long.
First of all, while people may believe that they make people stay stuck indoors too much instead of going outside and getting plenty of exercise, video games actually help your hand eye coordination. In addition, some games include exercise to help you stay healthy, like in the game Just DanceTM, which has you attempt to dance as perfect as you can to win the most points.
Secondly, to give you more of a perspective of the video game world, I will describe a popular action-packed video game series called Legend of ZeldaTM. In one of the most recent games (as of 2017), Legend of ZeldaTM: Breath of the Wild, Link, the main character of all of the video games in the series, wakes up with no recollection of his past life and not a single memory. He is awakened by a female voice whom he yearns to save from a corrupted castle he later learns was overtaken by Calamity Ganon, the enemy, hence starting the main quest to try and rescue the maiden. Besides the main quest, there are others; side quests to receive treasure, money, weapons, etc. There are also multiple main quests that you have to complete before you can face Calamity Ganon, which, when finished, give you additional powers and abilities that will both help and give you an advantage during the final boss battle.
But if action and fighting is not your cup of tea, then maybe the Animal CrossingTM series is for you. In the most recent release (as of 2020), Animal CrossingTM: New Horizons, you are sent to a deserted island to begin a new leaf . Here, you decorate and work to build your island from scratch, while you improve friendships with your chosen villages and are introduced to new furniture that will help you on your detail-oriented journey. From camping tents to mansions, you work hard and efficiently to make your island look as nice as you picture in your head and add more facilities, shops, and people to make your island grow into a bustling town, filled with your creativity and hard work. Some people focus on certain themes to decorate their island with, choosing only furnishings that match it to make their island as detailed as it can be. The game also celebrates worldwide holidays, including Christmas and Halloween, creating fun and enjoyable events to help you celebrate the occasion.
Unfortunately, playing video games for too long and for too much can provide having too much screen time, which worsens eyesight, so addiction is a big problem that many people find hard to stop. This dilemma is why some parents set a limit, certain days, or sometimes specific hours of the day to shorten the amount of time their children spend playing them.
In conclusion, video games have both ups and downs, what with the effects of playing too much and improving certain skills, but they are still fun to play, especially when you are bored and have nothing to do. Just make sure that you are not playing too much and too frequently, by either following one of the solutions above or creating your own, and then you are ready and prepared to start playing.

+ Write a 600 word review of a book you’ve read recently! Include critique, praise and a score out of 5 at the end. Consider characters, plot, themes, style, worldbuilding and anything else you find relevant in your review! (640 words)

I highly recommend checking out a novel called a Pho Love Story by Loan Lee. It is a Young Adult realistic fiction and romance book about two rival families with vietnamese restaurants whose children end up falling in love with each other despite their families’ history. First of all, the beginning immediately hooks you in and keeps you intrigued, so that you continue reading until you have noticed that you have read for much longer than you originally expected. And rightfully so, ast the very first chapter reveals one of the main character’s, Bao Nguyen’s, personality, lifestyle and thoughts. For example, it shows that he thinks of himself as his parents’ second-best favorite person from the way his parents treat him, since there is this one worker, Viet, who his parents seem to admire, adore, and care more about than their actual son, always commenting that Viet’s parents must be so proud to have him as their child, without actually meaning to put Bao down every time they do so. And, seeing as Bao still has not decided which occupation he should choose to do for a living, even though he is in his last year of high school, and is an average person overall, his parents do not really care about him much and mentally categorize others above him in their personal ranking. In addition, the plot is interesting and is the main source of entertainment when you are reading because the children, Bao and Linh, are trying to keep their relationship a secret because, if their parents found out, they would be in huge trouble. This scenario mainly compels you to continue flipping a page to see what will happen, because the last time they encountered each other, it did not go so well (think close to fighting in a temple). Also, the writing style naturally flows, is creative, detailed, and shows the main characters’ thoughts and personalities well through their point of view, along with unrealistically attaching yourself to them. This attachment is so deep that you grow to love the characters more as the story progresses, and you pity them as they struggle to overcome their current conflicts, internally and externally. Furthermore, Loan Lee’s descriptive writing shows their character development/arc and how they oversee and view others, especially corresponding to their family. She also makes a good use of changing perspectives at the right time and using and incorporating it into the book well. The plot intensifies the longer you read, making you unnecessarily worry about them and how they are going to juggle all of their problems; what with making their relationship stay as a secret and repeatedly lying to their parents guiltily. This thought also drives the question how it will all turn out if their parents eventually find out about everything. It also incorporates Vietnamese history, cuisine, and language into the story well, giving you a slight history lesson while you read, but making it entertaining and enjoyable to read about nevertheless. The only critique is that in some parts it can get boring because sometimes nothing is really going on and similar events occur. In conclusion, the book a Pho Love Story by Loan Lee is a highly enjoyable Young Adult romance read, featuring two main characters, Bao and Linh, from different families with rival Vietnamese restaurants who are constantly competing against each other, both hoping to land above the other so fiercely that they will sacrifice anything in order to do so. But past these circumstances and bad blood, Bao Nguyen and Linh Mai learn to find love between each other, and are determined to forever keep it a secret until they realize the inevitable outcome that could unite their families once and for all, or destroy them completely. Overall, I rate this book a 5 out of 5 stars.

Part One, 505 words:
Write a 500 word story involving these 3 sprites: a basketball player, bananas, and jam.

A witch in disguise as a basketball player. Bananas and strawberry jam are used for their powers.

The witch cackled as she changed into a basketball player, her curly black hair turning shorter and blond, her height slightly shrinking with a popping sensation, and her face morphing to one of a teenage boy’s.
Magic was rare, especially in the domain that she was in, and since no one outside her hometown knew that witchcraft still existed, no one would suspect that a witch would be concealed inside the body.
She grinned and clapped her hands gleefully, this time in her mortal body. This is going to be so easy, she thought cockily. Be careful, a voice deep in her mind reminded her. Last time you were this confident, you forgot your bananas and strawberry jam and almost passed out, for goodness sake!
“Silence!” she muttered, aloud this time. “You have the freakin’ food with you. You even saw yourself put it in your cloak pocket, dimwit.”
You see, those foodstuffs restore her energy that is needed to cast spells, as casting magic is very tiring and drains a lot out of the person using them, so it is highly important to have them at all times. Even powers have their weaknesses.
Anyways, a little unhinged by the reminder of the past event, the witch trudged on, hidden inside the newly-made body, her thoughts and speech already altering to those of a high schooler’s. Only one thought stayed inside her brain; the importance of finishing the quest and the lengths she would go to do so.
As she approached the basketball court, she scanned the perimeter, searching with alert and vigilant eyes for the victim her master described to her with such detail. Her hunt was interrupted by a male voice.
“Yo, welcome back, TJ! You up for a game?”
She whipped around, forgetting for a moment that she was in a different form. “Hmm? Oh, uh, maybe later.”
“Come on, man! You have been gone for two weeks! You can not come back just to make me wait a little longer!” He added, staring into her now ocean-blue eyes so closely that the witch’s breathing slowed down, believing so greatly that the adolescent could see through the layers of her disguise.
Peer pressure was the cause that finally made her give in. She decided that maybe not all was for nothing and that the mysterious boy she had been sent to fetch might be at the game too. Do not let your hopes shape your decisions in reality, a part of the witch hissed, but she brushed away the thought irritatingly.
“Fine, but only one round; then I have to go.”
The teenager grinned. “Okay, then. Game on.”
. . .
Panting from the effort and feasting on a banana and jam, the witch doubled over, catching her breath, relieved that the game was over and proud that her team had been victorious.
“Good…game…” She said between heavy breathing, almost forgetting the fact that she had found the mysterious boy that her job, and probably life too, depended on.
She smirked. “I’ve got you now.”

Part Two, 235 words:

Write a 200 word piece which subverts one of the cliches from your list!

Damsel in distress - 1) She survives without any help or 2) The hero and damsel switch roles (Hero is helpless, damsel saves him)
Love triangle - 1) The female/male stays single because the other two characters marry someone other than her or 2) The female/male doesn’t like anyone
The Chosen One - 1) The main character isn’t special or 2) The main character’s friend is the chosen one
Girl power - 1) Needs a guy’s help or 2) Joins forces with a male
Happily Ever After - 1) The character’s life starts out great but takes an unexpected turn at the end or 2) A never-ending pure evil plot line

’The male doesn’t like any of the girls’ (except I tweaked it a little)

“You don’t WHAT?!”
“I don’t love you, Alexandria,” He repeated, wincing at her condescending tone as she continued to scream insults directed toward him at the top of her lungs.
“I spend all this time waiting through sleepless nights, fantasizing that at least an ounce, no matter how big, of you loved me, and you just drop a bombshell like that?!”
He stared at the floor, gazing at anything other than Alexandria, silent with guilt that was thickening by the second.
For a while it stayed like that, until she spoke up again. “I thought you liked me.” He grimaced at the pain in her voice.
“Platonically, yeah. But, romantically, no.”
More silence. “You can’t just abandon me for…” Her tone had lowered to a whisper filled with shaky, barely controlled anger.
“For Jaden?”
Bitterly, Alexandria turned away from him, not willing to face him, but he could tell by her voice that tears were running down her face. “I hope you’ll be happy with her.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, believing for a millisecond that she had forgiven and everything had been resolved.
But then Alexandria spoke again, muttering it under her breath so quietly that she had probably thought that he would not hear it. But, he was still within earshot when she said her flicker of retaliation that made the biggest impact, no matter how small: “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Part Three, 405 words:

Consider several tropes and stereotypes you don’t often use and write a 200 word piece that uses those stereotypes and tropes to add more meaning to your writing.

STEREOTYPES:
1. The villain is desirous of boundless power and/or immortality and is willing to go to great lengths in order to achieve either
2. The wise old man

TROPES:
1. ‘Hero with a secret identity’ (witch)
2. ‘Enemies to lovers’ (First they were enemies, but then she fell in love and told her sister about him, which made the sister fall in love with him too)

“JADEN!”
I barge through the door, my curly black hair flying like the tears dripping off my face.
She has the audacity to not turn around.
“Jaden, answer me!” I repeat, annoyed.
“Jeez, Ria, calm down. It is not the end of the world,” She says, finally turning around to face me, rolling her eyes.
“Like your sister stealing the only person you love is not the end of the world,” I mutter.
“I was doing you a favor,” Jaden adds, cocking her head.
“Excuse me?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips accusingly. “You of all people should know what is best for me.”
“You of all people should know why this is the best for you.” She shoots back, sending a stab of pain through me that I fight hard not to show on my face.
It’s my turn to give a blank stare as my sister sighs impatiently and looks to the ceiling, as if thinking, “Why couldn’t I have gotten a smarter sibling?”
“As you said earlier, you, originally, were enemies. I was not, I repeat, I—“
I cut her off, muttering, “Okay, I get it, you don’t have to rub it in. Next?”
She cleared her throat, reminding me suspiciously of Dolores Umbridge. “And with that, there is a higher chance he will break up with you, or you will break up with him, while I have experienced no bad blood with him myself. With me, there is not even a slight risk of divorce, but, with you, it is very high.”
I stare down at my shoes, my vision growing as red as my cheeks.
Jaden takes my silence as an agreement, saying, “I am glad you understand.”
That is when I punched her right in the face. How was it, you might be asking? Very satisfying.
As I left the room, Jaden was still clutching her cheek and yelping in pain as she glares at me.
On my way out, an old man with a long, white beard that seems to touch the floor steps towards me and says, “Revenge is not the only path.”
I blink. “Sir—“
“Ria, do not follow that path. It only leads to evil.”
“What do you know?” I say, pushing away his arm.
“Ria, do not—“
A little frightened, I must admit, I dashed as far as I could away from the old man, his comments still ringing inside my head.

Part Four, 1,150 words:

Take the writing piece you did in part one, and rewrite it with your new knowledge of subverting cliches, tropes, stereotypes and especially literary devices to make the piece as good as you can make it! This new piece should be at least 800 words long.

Prologue
Las Vegas, California, April 9th, 2009

The sun was streaming through the airport windows as people maneuvered their way between and around the bustling crowds, some rushed forward in a panic, trying to make it to their flight on time, while others, bored, were simply sitting around, whistling, as they watched through the wide, open windows impatiently, checking their watches often.
A young woman dragged my suitcase behind me, the strands of my curly black hair that weren’t confined to her ponytail flying, some plastered to her forehead with sweat as she, deep in thought, collided with the man in front of her.
“I’m so sorry!” She apologized, disheveled, her voice shooting an octave higher than usual and her glasses lowered enough to reveal her periwinkle blue eyes that twinkled with curiosity.
“It’s fine,” The man replied, wiping his disheveled blonde hair out of his eyes with one hand and gathering his stuff with the other.
Their hands touch, and they look up at each other for the first time in surprise, both of their instincts being to apologize.
Their words are cut short however when their eyes lock, and their hearts beat rapidly as they realize the inevitable truth: they have found their soulmate.

Later that day…

“I’m calling off the mission.”
Ria said it so calmly and without hesitation that Jaden whipped around, confused.
“But we need that plan!”
“No, we don’t.”
Jaden put her hands on her hips. “Yes, we do! It’s worth more than a million dollars! Don’t you think we need that right now?”
She gestured to the rundown and dusty appliances behind her.
Ria gulped as she felt herself giving in, knowing that Jaden had a point.
“Why so out of the blue, anyway?”
Ria suddenly forgot how to speak. “I… met this guy.”
“Did he have ruffled blond hair, kind of long, with gray eyes the same color as fog?”
Ria nodded, too surprised to speak.
Jaden sighed. “You can’t fall in love with him, sis!”
“Why not?” Ria got on the defensive side, and she could feel her invisible shields going up.
“Because you’re a witch and he’s a spy on the enemy side!” Jaden said, clicking her tongue with distaste.
“But he seemed nice!” Ria shot back, scrambling for any piece of information and ignoring her first comment.
Jaden gazed at Ria pitifully. “He’s a spy, Ria, that’s what he does.”
“What do you mean?” Ria asked, her voice lowering from a shout as Jaden’s stare weaved through her defensive shields.
Ria realized the answer before Jaden even said it.
“Acting. And you of all people should know all about it.”

Chapter 1
Exactly a year later…

Ria sighed as she changed into a basketball player, —not her first choice, by the way, but she had had no say in the matter— her curly hair rippling from black to blond and growing shorter, her height slightly shrinking with a popping sensation that ringed in her ears, and her face morphing to one of a teenage boy’s.
She grinned at the easy transformation, clapping her hands together with glee, but this time in the wimpy mortal body.
She then took a deep breath and was about to step towards the basketball courts below, since she was currently standing on a cliff, mind you, but a voice deep inside her head stopped her.
Be careful, it said. Even your magic has limits, you know.
Ria scowled at the insecurity the part of her showed, saying, “I have the bananas and strawberry jam, this time, so I’ll be fine, thank you very much!” She waved my bananas and strawberry jam in the air, the source of her energy, waiting impatiently for the voice’s retaliation.
But nothing came, which she inferred that it meant that she was free to go.
And so, she slid down the cliff, landing near the basketball courts with the sense of elegance and perfection as though she had done it a million times before.
Ria then scanned the perimeter vigilantly, all of her attention on the basketball players, her old thief tactics activating as she analyzed each and every player’s face for his familiar features.
“Hey,” a voice behind her said, startling Ria enough that she jumped and let loose a strangled yelp.
“Jeez, it’s only me, Devin!”
As she whipped around, she stared blankly at the stranger.
“Uh, you know, David?”
Still nothing.
He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor. “We’re the Double D’s?”
Ria snapped her fingers, pretending to realize who he was, when she really didn’t at all.
“Ohhh, that David!” She said, as if she knew many Davids to cover up her mistake for not realizing that she was still in my disguise. “Nice to see you!”
David let out a sigh of relief. “So, you up for a game?”
She blinked. “‘Scuse me?”
“You know, just you and me on opposite teams with some of our other buds, just like old times!”
“I dunno, I mean—” She was cut off by David’s pleas.
“Please, Devin! Just one game?”
Ria considered it, weighing the pros and the cons, and decided that it was worth a shot. Besides, she might find the mysterious boy at the game, so not all of it would be wasted time.
Keep telling yourself that, the same voice from earlier pestered, which she ignored without a second thought.
“Game on.”

After the game…

Ria, still panting, shook hands with the other team, saying ‘Good game’ so much it became annoying, but she stopped the protocol at the last one in line.
“I’ve got you now,” She muttered under her breath, smirking.
When they reached out to shake hands, she didn’t let go, tightening her grasp when he attempted to escape and using the force to drag him along with her.
“Hey, what are you—”
She abruptly jerked him towards her, slowly gaining speed and cutting him off.
They began sprinting until she reached her van.
“Get in,” She ordered. “If you value your life, that is.”
He gulped and decided to obey.
As soon they were inside and every door had been locked, Ria let her disguise fade away, revealing her true form.
Gaping at the mirror, her passenger found it hard to form complete sentences. “I… know you.”
Ria winked. “Miss me?”
His eyes widened as he realized who she was. “A-airport, collision—”
“Technically, we just happened to bump into each other, but yeah, that’s about it,” She added, grinning.
“You’re a witch?” The captive said, addressing the obvious and still open mouthed.
“Well, duh,” Ria said, rolling her eyes. “How can I be human?”
“Wait a minute,” He said. “Why did you kidnap—”
“Bring,” She corrected.
He faltered. “Uh, okay, then why did you bring me here?”
Ria turned around to look at him, lowering her glasses to reveal her familiar blue eyes. “You don’t have any guesses?”

sorry this ended weirdly; i couldn’t figure out how to end it and it was very rushed overall :')

Trust is a risky pact to make.
Just one action and it shatters completely, unable to be resolved.
Like paint splattered on a canvas, it can’t be removed. Only disguised. Shrouded. Concealed.
It becomes only a matter of time before someone realizes the truth beneath all of those layers.
Then what comes next?
Fear. Not the tension you feel when watching a horror movie, but when you freeze. Don’t move. Stop breathing. Lose control.
Some may say that certain things never change. Fear is one of them, but fear is also a tool. You just have to be willing enough to use it.
And I was, but for the wrong purpose.

England, December 27th, 1776

A wise man once told me that you never truly love something until it’s gone. Take the fact of life for an example. I never treasured it until a bullet shot into my side.
Humbled by death. What a pity that no one would be here to see me in such a weak state.
Reaching towards my wound, I come back with my hand smeared with blood, the bitter odor hindering my sense of smell.
My eyes dim, and I am overcome with a sudden coughing fit that spews out that same substance that engulfs my hand.
I had possibly half an hour, maybe less, before my soul would give in to the afterlife.
But it would matter not, for the dueling grounds are deserted due to my opponent scattering to the wind as soon as I had collapsed into the snow now immersed in a pool of my own blood.
Gosh, Edward. My opponent that I had forced to this desolate location where I now laid and would lay for centuries to come.
How much I would give to apologize to him for my rash decisions and self-centered actions. And for his fear that I had yearned to wield from the trauma I had caused, which would now morph into the unfathomable reality of him thinking I had died not caring for him.
I should have known that fracturing trust came with consequences and regrets.
I gaze up at the stars illuminated in the night sky, scanning the constellations Edward taught me so long ago; me a mere child, Edward barely a teenager.
I can feel myself fading with the hope of rescue, so, in one last desperate attempt, I reach out, as if grasping an invisible hand, before it thuds against the ground, and my eyes close for one last time.

- -

credits <3

special thanks to clem (@cru-mble) for critiquing this
inspired by szin’s laurens interlude animatic on yt
also inspired by a user’s writing on quota (forgot who qwq)

and you for reading this

seasiide wrote:

Trust is a dangerous pact to make.

I feel like ‘dangerous’ isn’t a strong enough word ^^

seasiide wrote:

Just one action and it shatters completely, unable to be resolved.

Nice sentence, very ominous, but I would either chance completely or resolved to a different word (not both!)

seasiide wrote:

Like paint splattered on a canvas, it can’t be removed. Only hidden. Disguised. Concealed.
It becomes only a matter of time before someone realizes the truth beneath all of those layers.
Then what comes next?

This section is really nice, I love the analogy! Again, synonyms! Add some more spice instead of hidden/disguised. I also notice there is a lack of a bridge sentence if yk what I mean? It just jumps to the next line, ‘Then what comes next?’

seasiide wrote:

Fear. Not the tension you feel when watching a horror movie
Some may say that certain things never change. Fear is one of them. But fear is also a tool. You just have to be willing enough to use it.
And I was, but for the wrong purpose.

This part’s quite a doozy. Jumping from the line before I mentioned to this, makes the reader unprepared sort of because you thought the topic wouldn’t change so suddenly. Is it just me or do you need a period after ‘movie’?
And just to note, the sentences in this passage are sort of short and choppy, which would be more used in a high-action scene?

seasiide wrote:

England, December 27th, 1776

A wise man once told me that you never truly love something until it’s gone. Take the element of life for an example. I never treasured it until a bullet was shot into my side.
Humbled by death. What a pity that no one would be here to see me in such a weak state.
Reaching towards my wound, I come back with my hand smeared with blood, the bitter odor hindering my sense of smell.
My eyes dim, and I am overcome with a sudden coughing fit that spews out that same substance that engulfs my hand.
I had possibly half an hour, maybe less, before my soul would give in to the afterlife.
But it would matter not, for the dueling grounds were deserted due to my opponent scattering to the wind as soon as I had collapsed into the snow now immersed in a pool of my own blood.
Gosh, Edward. My opponent that I had forced to this desolate location where I now laid and would lay for centuries to come.
How much I would give to apologize to him for my rash decisions and self-centered actions. And for his fear that I had yearned to wield from the trauma I had caused, which would now morph into the unfathomable reality of him thinking I had died not caring for him.
I should have known that fracturing trust came with consequences and regrets.
I gaze up at the stars illuminated in the night sky, scanning the constellations Edward taught me so long ago; me a mere child, Edward barely a teenager.
I can feel myself fading with the hope of rescue, so, in one last desperate attempt, I reach out, as if grasping onto an invisible hand, before it thuds against the ground, and my eyes close for one last time.

Uh I don’t have time to go through this all but I think even more description could be for Edward? I don’t know much about the character from ‘My opponent that I had forced to this desolate location where I now laid and would lay for centuries to come’, and the sentence itself is wordy and doren’t provide as much information. It would be the same if you wrote “my opponent” because the rest is sort of confusing. I do appreciate at the end that it shows maybe Edward wasn’t all bad in the first please, so gj

now I gtg

Cru-mble wrote:

snip

thanks

Part One, 500 words (exactly hehe):
Write a 500 word story that features / takes inspiration from that comment thread!

{Comment Thread}
“Everyone surrenders to America's hottest French wrestler” O.O
That's a little sus there
BAGUETTE
AHAHAH I READ IT AND I'M DYING AHAHAHAHAHAH

Someone was rapping on the cabin door, and it did not seem like they intended to stop any time soon.
It was exactly two in the morning, so, grumpy and annoyed, Jade had decided not to answer it, because she had thought that only weirdos would want to disturb the camp at this hour.
How wrong she was.
Anyways, because they were irritating Jade quite a bit, she had wanted to annoy them by not opening the door. But the knocker had not stopped. At all.
And so, attempting to stifle a yawn and failing, Jade finally gave in and opened the door, mainly due to the fact that every camper had surrounded and persuaded her to get them to stop so they could go to sleep in peace.
Ready to yell at the stranger to go away, Jade threw it open and had already opened her mouth before faltering when she glanced down at the stranger’s appearance.
He had dark skin, brown eyes that twinkled with amusement as if he was sharing an inside joke, and curly black loosely tied into a ponytail. And he was, well, handsome.
Handsome enough that all of the campers and leaders immediately bowed down to him, going down in a way very similar to a domino effect, as if we were all surrendering.
Jade heard several murmurs from across the room, including a person next to me saying that the situation was a little suspicious before following everyone else’s movements in an exasperated manner.
He cleared his throat, stopping the ongoing comments and conversations and making everyone stand up again, heavily flustered and blushing.
“I am Marquis De Lafayette, a French wrestler, who has come to seek the wisdom of your camp’s leaders and hosts.”
At this, the leaders and hosts hastily rushed forward, pushing against each other and heading to Lafayette so fast that I barely dodged them when I moved out of their path.
On a more baffling note, one leader, grinning ear to ear, handed him a baguette, but where they got it, I had no idea.
He accepted it without hesitation and gave them a flattering smile, which made the leader swoon before crashing onto the floor since no one made any attempt to catch them.
Lafayette beckoned the small crowd forward to discuss whatever matter he had asked them for. They all spoke so softly and quickly that Jade could not make out a word, but once they had finished, she had a slight idea that the answer had something to do with the order that a host named Alba shouted out:
“Lafayette—“ She stated, pointing to him mid-sentence. “—is the new ruler! Every single one of you are now, or should be, willing to obey and follow his every command without any question.”
At that abrupt statement, mostly everyone erupted into cheers, though some into perplexed and surprised laughter, not completely believing the news, but all deeply bowing with barely any protest to our recently appointed king.

Part Two, 325 words:

Pick a cabin whose theme you really like (I chose Real-Fi ^^) and write a scene of at least 300 words.

I reread my letter once more, slightly concerned if I was in the right place. Despite most of the building being made out of glass, I don’t spot anyone inside.
I hesitantly knock. No response.
I decide to open it instead of sitting outside, waiting, and end up meeting a girl with headphones around her neck, grinning ear to ear.
“I’m Robin,” The girl, Robin, apparently, says. “I’m the director.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, remembering that her name was mentioned somewhere on the letter. “So, I’m in the right place?”
“Let’s see,” She says, muttering while she pulls out a clipboard and glances at the list. Robin looks back at me and asks, “Theodora? No? What about Sam? Still no? Okay—“
“It’s Robin,” I say, smirking.
Robin seems to grin wider, if that was possible. “Well then, Robin, uh…” She falters, scanning the list again. “Ah, Robin Roberts. Welcome to the Real-Fi headquarters. Dorms are on the door to the left, the recording studios on the right. Starla and Hop will probably show up soon.” Robin then checks her watch, and her eyes widen. “Sorry, got to go! See you later!” She winks and rushes off, her hair flying behind her.
I navigate to the main room, dodging flying mangoes, —Where did they even get those?— occasionally bumping into a few people, and waving, greeting, and introducing myself to other campers.
I then notice two people on the other side of the room with clipboards like Robin’s, which I infer to mean that they are the other leaders, Starla and Hop.
“Auditions start tomorrow!” They shout as they hand out flyers to campers walking to their dorms to make sure they don’t forget.
I follow the others up to the dorms, grab a flyer, and once inside, I let out a breath I have not knowingly been holding in as I realize that I have finally found a place where I belong.

Part Three, 310 words:

Take your cabin’s passage and continue it for at least 300 words!

You put on your Sherlock Homes hat and grab your notebook from your suitcase, wanting to be treated seriously.
Determined, you head towards the direction the scream came from, ready to begin the investigation.
“Any suspects?” You ask as you question the person you heard scream, which was one of the train workers.
“I-I don’t think so. It was pretty dark though, so I didn’t spot anyone and didn’t find the need to,” Amy replies.
You suppress a sigh. “Did you hear the footsteps?”
“Yes. They sounded close, so I went to investigate, which is when I found the body. But I met no one on the way there,” She answered, her eyebrows furrowed as she realizes what this means.
You then get up and begin pacing around the room, deep in thought, ideas already swirling around in your head. “Interesting.”
Talking more to yourself than to Amy, you mutter, “There was more than one set of footsteps, one heavy, the rest light. Why would one try to be heard rather than hidden? Maybe they happened after the murder took place, to divert attention and cause confusion.”
From the corner of your eye, you notice Amy staring at you curiously as you continue to pace and think, one of your hands resting against your forehead.
“Uh, you may leave, madam,” You say after seeing her staring.
She bows and leaves the uncomfortable silence now quickly engulfing the room.
Frustrated and none of your thoughts leading to a conclusion, you yell and pick up a plate located nearby and chuck it at the wall.
None of your investigations had ever been this vague. Usually there was more than one suspect, much more information, and something that made sense.
“So much for solving the case by next week,” You mutter, disappointed, your hope draining by the second.
“Don’t lose hope just yet.”

Part Four, 1400 words:

Write a one thousand word SWC fanfiction!

I finished the mystery in my cabin’s passage ^^

8:57 AM

I take a deep breath as I step aboard the Orient Express. The train was supposed to be a treat for all of the work I had managed to accomplish over the past month for this writing camp, but right then, I felt my shoulders tense from the haunting silence both in the train and in the station.
My heart beating, I instinctively reach into my coat pocket for my weapon, but I stop in the middle of carrying out the action when a young man seems to come out of nowhere.
I straighten my Sherlock Holmes hat as he greets me, shaking my hand and saying how pleased he is to meet me, welcoming me onboard, I hope you have a good time, yada yada, lots more fluff, until I am finally able to escape his grasp and eerily perfect, blinding white smile.
I nearly bump into a passenger on my way into my assigned cabin, still very distracted with the thought of the staff I had met earlier.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, rushing to apologize. “I zoned out.”
The passenger, an elderly woman, chuckles. “It’s fine, dear. I do that many times as well.”
Reaching out her hand, she adds, smiling, “Penelope Clearwater. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I have a feeling that what she is saying is genuine, unlike that annoying staff member, so I reach out my hand, some of the tension from before leaving me.
“Jade Greenwood,” I respond, shaking her hand and smiling back.
“Hope you enjoy your trip here, dear,” Ms. Clearwater says. “This is a journey to die for!”
“Same to you, Ms. Clearwater,” I reply, stepping into my cabin uncomfortably and growing steadily more nervous as a sense of foreboding washes over me when I recall the woman’s last phrase before she left: This is a journey to die for.

10:01 PM

Still awake and restless, I continue to shift in my sleep, unable to silence the muffled voices outside that are keeping me awake.
The past hour had been full of murmurs and crashes and footsteps that made me wonder what the other passengers were doing and why they were making so much commotion.
Even when I pulled the given pillows that were the itchiest thing that has ever been created on this entire planet over my ears, I could not block out the constant ruckus that made me question the sanity of all of the passengers aboard the acclaimed Orient Express.
The sudden silence puts me on edge, and for good reason, it seems, since it is followed by a scream that pierces through my grumpy thoughts and the walls surrounding me that I had thought blocked out or muffled any noise coming from outside up until then.
I, embarrassingly still dressed in my pajamas, barge through my cabin door, suddenly alert and vigilant as I step outside with all of the other distressed passengers and staff.
Soon the narrow hallway is stuffed with the entire crew as we alarmingly discuss the whole ideal.
“Who screamed?!”
“Is everyone okay?”
“What happened?!”
“Silence!” The same staff that greeted me earlier that day shouts, which surprisingly makes everyone quiet down.
“I’m sure there is a completely logical explanation. But, while we investigate, please remain calm and stay here, where it is safe.”
“Sir?” I interject. “May I come with you?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What for?”
“I know what is a murder and what is not, and that scream was one from a killed victim. So I, Detective Jade Greenwood, have good reason to accompany you.”
I leave him no room to protest as I navigate the intricate passageways, stopping to peek into the rooms lining the corridor until I finally discover the one accountable for the murder.
I grimace at the sight. The victim, Professor William, I believe, lays in bed, his expression forever frozen in not a scream, but one of calm and peace.
“Drugged,” I mutter.
As I pull back the sheets, I fight to remain calm by the blood that stains it and the eleven stabs piercing his chest. Some had barely lodged inside it, some deep, presumably the fatal ones.
I hear the staff member gasp. “Oh, my!”
“Why would the murderer decide to stab him more than once, and at different pressures and lengths…?” I question, mostly talking to myself.
Deep in thought and my brain already buzzing to form conclusions, I barely notice the staff behind me, watching my every move and how I am analyzing it.
I scan the room for remaining clues. I check under the bed and on the floor —basically everywhere. I find a drained glass on his bedside table, confirming my conclusion that Professor William was drugged through his drink. I then find my knife along with it, red with blood.
I recall putting away my coat for the night, but I don’t remember anyone coming inside.
“Curious…”
I then turn around to face the crowd watching me. I pick up the glass and show it to them. “Did Professor William take a type of medicine in the form of a liquid?”
“Uh, yes, I believe he did,” One member answers, confused at my statement.
“Who did, exactly?”
“Mr. Carlos.”
“Could you bring him here?”

10:34 PM

“Sir Carlos, you brought Professor William’s medicine to him today, did you not?”
“Yes, in fact I did.” Mr. Carlos shifted uncomfortably.
“And did you drug it, so that, in the middle of the night, you would go to his room, using the chaos in the corridors as your cover, and stab him when no one was looking?”
He gaped at me. “Ms. Greenwood, I did no such thing. Why do you ask?”
“I found this—“ I raised the glass I had found earlier. “—by his bedside table, and, when scanned, found the remains of a drug that had been known to be in your luggage.”
He became at a loss for words. “I—I didn’t—“ He took a deep breath and continued. “Look, I didn’t have it in my bag to begin with, and I most certainly don’t have it now. You can search it all you want, but you won’t find it because I didn’t kill Professor William!”
I hesitated before responding, new thoughts brimming inside my mind with the new information.
My imagination pauses however for a split second when Mr. Carlos adds, “We were actually good friends.”
I nod my head. “Best wishes. And thank you for your time, Sir Carlos.”
He nods his head as I leave him to contemplate my questions, new ones of my own appearing.

10:59 PM

“Why would there be multiple stabs? And why might someone possibly want to drug his friend? Unless, the actual murderer used their suitcase to deliver his weapons to the scene so they wouldn’t be suspicious…?”
I pace my cabin, frustrated with having no conclusion even after interrogating all of the passengers onboard, with no interesting information to form new leads. It was starting to become more of an endless loop, a circle.
I grunt in exasperation and thrust my fist against the wall in outrage.
“Walls are expensive. You should try hitting your pillows instead. Much safer and cheaper.”
I whip around to face Minty, one of the staff that I had recently become friends with.
I sigh. “This case is tougher than most. I have absolutely no leads! Zero.”
I put my head in my hands. “How on Earth am I going to find the murderer by Monday?!”
Minty puts her arm around my shoulder, which surprises me so much that I look up.
“Jade, you are the smartest person I know. If you can’t figure out the case, then no one can.”
I blink causing Minty to sigh. “What I mean is, everything takes time. You can ask Mulligan to extend the deadline if you need to. You’ve told me about your other cases, and they didn’t take a day to figure out. Just let your mind do whatever it needs to finish this case as soon as you can.”
My face lights up as a thought pieces itself together with another one. My first answer.
I had a case to solve, and I was not going to let the murderer escape.
After all, I was Jade Greenwood, the world’s best detective. And no one could beat me.

Helloooo
so I wrote a little thing yesterday - critiques greatly appreciated !!!

TW: mentions of blood and death

England, November 13th, 1776

The first thing I remember is dy!ng.
The sound of the bu!!et shooting straight into my side.
The sound of the thud I made when I collapsed, baffled and gasping.
The sound of my labored breaths and the bittersweet taste in my mouth.
The sound of my life slowly ticking away as my opponent’s footsteps faded into nothingness.
The smell of my own b!ood as it sank into the snow.
Tick.
Tick.
The sight of b!ood splattered on my hands.
The thought of being another second closer to dxath.
The feeling of anticipation as I awaited it.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The thought that I’d finally get to see my parents again and apologize for my inadequate self.
Tick.
The sound of them scolding me for my selfishness.
Tick.
The way they’d embrace me like nothing was wrong.
Tick.
The feeling of guilt that would finally stop haunting me.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“Robin?”

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