SWC Daily - Day 3 - 3 words - Dragon breath, Diamond Sword, Hay bale - +531
The setting sun spilled light through the rectangular metal-barred window. Laying down his worn and muddy cloak, water skin and dagger on the bed in the corner, the traveller strolled over and looked out over the town. Earlier in the day it had been busy and bustling with life, but now the thatched cottages were illuminated with the flickers of roaring fireplaces and smoking candles. Below the window, he could see a famer’s cart, brimming over with hay and countryside dirt, evidently previously containing supplies from the nearby farm. Chair scraping along the wooden floor, he sat down at the writing desk in the corner and dipped his quill into ink.
March 3rd -
We arrived in the town of ______ at about 8 o’clock in the evening. Ty was convinced that we were about 2 hours late but, in typical fashion, his time-keeping was way out and we were pretty on time. We received a warm welcome and good food. I’m constantly surprised by the respect people have for our mission and our message. Men coming from the king sounds imposing, of course, but the stories you hear make you think that the people no longer care for the affairs in the capital. From the perspective of a city dweller, the country is rogue and rebel, but in reality there are still good people out here. I’ve got to be honest, so far this is going more easily than I expected. When I was approached about the whole thing I’ve got to admit I thought the idea was ludicrous and impossible. The thought that we’d been asked to-
A knock on the door interrupted the flow of his writing.
“Arlyn?” called a voice from behind the door.
“Come in, it’s not locked.” The man laid his quill down and glanced towards the door behind him. The candle on his desk flickered as it open, and a draught of cold air swept through the room. Into the room entered a tall, fresh-faced man. His sandy hair was shoulder length and his disposition was cheerful. Had Arlyn not known otherwise, he would have assumed the visitor to be a castle clerk or butler, not a seasoned traveller. But Arlyn did know differently, for this man, Tyrian Lasseun, was his childhood friend and close companion with whom he had shared many memories over their twenty one years of friendship.
“What do you want now?” Arlyn said, feigning annoyance.
“Only audience with his Majesty King Arlyn of the second bedroom on the left.” replied Ty seriously. Arlyn gave a snort of laughter and got up from his chair.
“Is this the summons to supper?”
“Yes, and you’d best be quick before it all gets eaten. I’m ravenous.”
“Huh, I’m surprised.” Arlyn said sarcastically. “Five days’ walking and with only enough supplies for three doesn’t sound like hungry work to me.”
The two men left the room, laughing together and the door creaked closed behind them. The sun had now set over the town, and the candle on the corner desk was almost burnt out. Its last flame licked the room, glinting on a perfectly crafted edge of the graceful silver dagger, and fell into darkness.

Main Cabin Daily 3/3
Topic: Ice Cream Flavors
Word Count: 536
Flavors: lightning, music, panic
Flavor Credits: @mayhem-olympia

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I lay under an umbrella on the sand, avoiding the intense heat. And, of course, I'm reading a book.

My friend Scarlet walks over to me, dripping wet from going swimming in the ocean. She grabs a towel and dries herself off.

I tilt down my sunglasses. “Do you want to go get some ice cream? They just restocked the crazy flavors and I've been wanting to try some.”

Scarlet ties her hair into a bun. “Sure, it's just up the hill, right?”

I nod, and we walk up there, staring at the over-saturated colors the sun projects.

It's not a big hill, and not a big store either. Even though it's popular and renowned, the quaint store didn't expand.

As I get into better view, I see a glorious pop of color. There's an outside area with parasols, chairs and tables, all stripes and colors. The parasol that hangs above alternates between blue red and yellow, which seems to be a recurring palette throughout the area.

In big, rainbow, funky letters are the words “Ice Cream Emporium”.

Fitting, I smile to myself.

We cross the smooth checkerboard tiles and the door chimes as we enter. The room is full of bustling noise, from casual conversations to functioning ice cream machines.

Bubble lights hang from the ceiling like chandeliers. Windows let in tons of natural light, accentuating and enhancing the colors. The walls are lined with a rim of pink doily patterns, and covered in murals depicting various sweets.

By the time I finish studying the interior features of the emporium, it's nearly time to order. I choose some flavors at random, all ones that intrigue me.

“Can I please get a triple scoop waffle cone with Lighting, Music and Panic?” I say, handing over 10 dollars.

“Sure,” the cashier says, and I watch him scoop them up and hand it to me.

Scarlet orders her ice cream and we sit outside under the parasols. Lighting is a yellow ice cream with jagged lines of white and bits of hard candy. Music is a solid black and white ice cream with multi-color chunks. Panic is bright red with pop rocks.

I try music first. The white if fresh french vanilla, the black is a light chocolate with a hard shell fudge drizzle. It seems basic at first the shell nicely crunching, but then I taste one of the gelatin-like colored chunks. They're amazingly fruity, a new flavor every chunk. It takes simplicity to a new area.

I savor the last of it before trying Lightning. The sour taste of lemon and the sweet taste of mango hit me at the same time, hurting for a second before dying down in the aftertaste. I take another bite and a round, hard candy that reminds me of warheads cleanses my taste buds, and pause for a moment

That leaves panic. I try it, and it's interesting to say the least. Tart cherry is the main attraction, and the pop rocks jump in my mouth. A sweet chamoy sauce (look it up, it's from mexico) makes my mouth have less of a freezer burn. there's some light chili power incorporated there too.

It was almost like I was in a trance. Scarlet's still finishing up her ice cream.

“Let's come here sometime soon,” I say.

Daily ~ Unusual Ice Cream
~~~
Hot Chocolate, Grape, Lemonade


It’s a beautiful day, the sun shines bright and hot, and you can hear the soft tweeting of birds fluttering around. It feels like spring already. All of a sudden a brightly colored stand catches my eye.
“ICE CREAM!” I yell and bolt to the sweet treats.
“Wait up!” My best friend Haley yells to me.
I wait for her to catch up and see the most amazing beautiful thing I have ever seen that will solve the world’s problems.
Hot. Chocolate. Ice cream.
“YES!” I probably scream too loudly because I get some weird glances but at this point I don’t even care. This exists!
“What was that for?” she asks and reads the chalkboard, Hot Chocolate Delight, Great Grape, Lemonade Love, and a bunch of other flavors I’m pretty sure nobody in history has ever thought of.
“Oh, now I see why. Lemonade!? Heck yeah!” she exclaims and takes a ten dollar bill and puts it on the table as I marvel at the fact that this isn’t a national franchise.
After about a minute, the ice cream man gives us both our scones and my jaw drops to the floor. Two scoops of delicious chocolate ice cream with marshmallows inside, more marshmallows on top of that, and a rich fudge drizzle with a cookie crumble on top. It looks much too good to eat, but I can’t bring myself not to. I take out my phone and snap a photo of it to capture the moment. Thank god I’m a good photographer. I bring it up close and savor the world’s wonder in a lick.
———————————————

~I’m actually really proud of myself for this ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
plot twist - I make a go fund me and it raises 1,000,000 dollars UwU

➼ I’m cloudy
➼ girl - books - outdoors
ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
-~-~-~-

daily for march 3rd:
flavors: cookies and cream, rocky road and sherbet.

Cally woke up in her bed to the sound of her phone ringing. What time was it? No, who was calling her? She picked up her phone and saw the caller ID: it was Sharon, one of her two best friends.
“CC, where are you?” Sharon snapped on the other side of the phone, clearly aggravated. Cally flinched at her tone; she was usually like this, but sometimes she was nice to her and Roxanne. She didn’t react to the nickname though; she was quite used to it now since both Sharon and Roxanne used it for her.
“I’m at home in bed, Sher,” Cally replied softly, trying to calm her friend down.
“CC! Did you just wake up?” Sharon scolded. Cally could just imagine her rubbing her nose bridge like she always did when she was mad. Cally was about to respond when Sharon spoke again. “Do you even know what time it is?”
“Uh…” Cally paused. “No. I don’t.”
“Then look at the time, Cally!” Sharon roared.
Cally complied and picked up her phone and looked at the time; it was 10:54am. She now understood why Sharon was so mad at her. She was late for her ice cream “date” with Sharon and Roxanne. “Oh no! Sharon, I’m so sorry. Tell Roxanne I’ll be there soon!” She said as she scrambled to stand up and walk over to her closet.
“You better be here soon or else we’re getting ice cream without you,” Sharon sighed, having calmed down a bit from Cally’s words, before she hung up the phone.
Cally picked out an outfit- it was a white tank top with black jeans and a half black, half white jacket. She quickly threw it on before braiding her half black half white hair. She quickly slipped on her shoes, grabbed her keys, phone and purse and ran out the door. She hopped in her car and sped over to the Coldstone she knew her two best friends were waiting for her at. When she arrived, she quickly spotted her friends Roxanne and Sharon standing near the front of the line talking to each other. She walked over to them with a smile and tapped Roxanne on the shoulder, which caused her to turn around.
“CC! You’re late!” Roxanne laughed with a smile. She was wearing a brown dress over a white sweater with brown tights and knee-high boots. Sharon was wearing a simple lime green sun dress.
“I know, I know,” Cally smiled back.
“Next!” The cashier said. The three best friends walked up to them.
“I’ll take a lime sherbet,” Sharon said.
“I’ll take some rocky road!” Roxanne said, clearly excited.
“And I’ll take some cookies and cream,” Cally ended off their order, smiling.
They waited until they got their ice cream.
“This is delicious!” They said in unison. When they realized what they had done, they all laughed.

Daily 2 314 words

Darkness. The lamp must have ran out of oil, I would have to refill it soon since it was midnight and everything was pure darkness. I continued walking until I saw a ghostly white figure wrapped in a black cloak that flowed behind it. It was coming ever nearer to me but it was gliding like a ghost. I was to terrified to move, I just stood, frozen on the sidewalk waiting for it to approach me. It stood in front of me and when I saw looked closely, I saw that it was faceless. “ Astrid, tomorrow when there is a red moon you must kill the person who will sit at the bench on Black Swan Blvd at exactly 12:00 am” it whispered, hypnotizing me. “Yes I will“ I said. Then the figure glided away, it’s black cloak dragging behind it.


Intro

The moon shone red, and I was walking towards the bench on Black Swan Blvd where the figure had told me to kill the person. I didn’t know who it was but I had a weird feeling that I had to do it. I was holding a knife, a really long one that I had stolen from a shop. I found the bench where a girl about my age sat, her long dark hair down to her waist. She strangely reminded me of someone but I didn’t know who and I didn’t care anyway. I stood at the back of the bench ready to stab her but something on the ground turned white when I raised my knife. It was a piece of paper that had writing on it. It said “do not kill her, she is your girlfriend, Luna”. Luna! That was who she reminded me of. That weird feeling left me and I lowered my knife instantly and walked away from the bench on Black Swan Blvd.

========March 3, Daily==========
'Choose three ice cream flavors - Imaginary or real, - and write a story about them


I logged into my minecraft account, anxious and excited to see what craziness would occur. It was April first, aka ‘April fools’, and I was positive that there would be pranks in the air. I went into my game. So far, so good. It took me a moment to recall my process, memories returning to me that I just found an end portal I'll just head to the end and fight the dragon then I thought. One I got to the end, I started to fight the dragon. It wasn't my first time. My fingers moved quickly as lightning, and I easily started defeating the dragon. At some point, a fly started annoyingly buzzing around me, and my fingers slipped in an attempt to swat the fly off. Annoying thing. Anyway, when I got back to my game, I realized I had ice cream in my inventory. It was purple, and the caption read ‘Dragon’s breath.’ I figured it must be the April fools prank. Without another thought, I ate the ice cream. Suddenly, I had regen, Strength, and invisibility. With that, I easily defeated the dragon and headed back to the overworld.

Defeating the dragon had given me extra XP, and I headed home to enchant some objects. Unfortunately, my hunger bar was much too low, and I decided to fish a bit before going back to my house. I fished for a little while, getting into the rhythm of it. As night fell, I constructed a little house, since I had no bed. Once I was inside, the groans of zombies bored me, and it felt forever till morning came. I decided to fish for a little longer while waiting for the sun to rise completely. As I was fishing, I got an ink sack. As soon as I clicked on my inventory, it turned into an ink sac ice cream. I decided to eat it, thinking that it would give another good effect. I was wrong, it just ended up giving me blindness. It was hard t =o go back to my base with the blindness effect, so I waited till it wore off, and finally was able to continue my trek back home.

Once I was at my house, I immediately worked to enchant a few things. I got a sword with sharpness III, and a bow with infinity. I then headed out to the forest to gather some wood. I found a cat, and as soon as I touched it, it transformed into a yellow ice cream cone. As soon as I ate it, I got speed. I finished harvesting the wood, then I went back to my house.

Daily, March 3rd
Today is 33 flavors day! In the comments, write 3 ice cream flavors (They don't have to be real! Maybe you can create dragon fire ice cream or glass ice cream) and then choose someone else's 3 ice cream flavors. (Note: It's totally fine if someone else has “claimed” someone's flavors, you can choose those too if you really want to ^^) Create a story of at least 400 words using their 3 flavors as inspiration. My flavors: jelly bean, ocean, lilies

The waves meet the shore over and over again collecting grains of sand as they make their visits. A wooden boat rocks from side to side on top of them, a rope tightly securing it to a wooden pole on the pier.

“Come on, Richie, don't be scared,” a gentle voice speaks out to the wind.

A mother reaches for the hand of her young son, who is tightly clutching the same wooden pole that the boat is tied to. He gazes at the water anxiously, shrinking away as an unfriendly wave seems to attempt to jump out at him.

“I'll fall into the water,” he says, more to himself than to his mother. He squeezes his eyes shut, continuing with a whimper, “I'm scared…”

The boy's mother watches him for a moment, and she moves away from the boat so that she can be closer to him. She kneels down beside the pole, placing a gentle hand on her son's head. “Don't you worry, sweetie. Mommy won't let you fall, okay?”

Her son — Richie — opens one eye, studying his mother's tender expression. A sliver of reassurance sneaks past.

“Do…do you promise, Mommy?”

"I pinky promise,“ Richie's mother replies, holding out her smallest finger as she speaks, her mouth in an encouraging smile.

Richie hesitates for a moment, but before long his pinky is intertwined with his mother's, in a simple gesture that implied that a promise had, indeed, been made.

”Mommy?“

”Hmm?“

”My tummy says it's empty now.“

His mother chuckles, stroking his hair with an air of tenderness. She responds, ”we'll eat when we get there. It won't take too long.“

”But Mommy, my tummy says it wants food now.“ Richie looks up at his mother with wide, hopeful eyes, and eventually she sighs, giving in.

”Well, I suppose if it's urgent…“ Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a packet of jelly beans, winking as she hands to her child. ”You can eat some of these. But don't eat too many, and don't tell your sister when we get there!“

Her son nods enthusiastically, carefully taking the jelly beans from his mother. A smile passes across his face, one that suggests that the boy has a cunning air — though, one wouldn't guess such a thing at first.

A soft breeze whistles from across the sea, and Richie takes his mother's hand, allowing her to lift him up and place in the rickety, wooden boat. She climbs in herself, after untying the rope, before giving him a wide smile.

”Well? Should we start our adventure?“

The boy gives a half excited gesture, still a little wary of the waves beneath them as his mother grabs hold of the oars. Within moments, they're pushing out to the ocean, heading for a shore that was just within sight across the horizon.

Another slightly chilly breeze sets out from afar, not yet strong enough to prevent the boy's mother from guiding the boat through the waves.

She watches her son with a gentle kind of curiosity, chuckling to herself every time he held on to his straw boater hat or popped another jelly bean into his mouth. Her son was a quiet child, yes, but he smiled a lot and to her, that was just as good as any amount of words.

Even in that very moment, he seemed to be mesmerized by the waves, no longer afraid of any potential threat they may or may not have held.

He was leaning over the side of the boat, reaching down to touch the water. It wasn't a murky greyish color, but it also wasn't a stereotypical blue. It was more of a cross between the two, and either way, it seemed to fascinate young, six year old Richie.

”Don't lean out so far, sweetie,“ his mother warns, just as he stands up and settles back down on his seat. ”I won't, Mommy. I'd fall in.“

Richie smiles up at his mother, and she smiles back at him, feeling a strange sense of pride at her son's intelligence at such a young age.

He would do great things someday.

She could feel it.

”I see the grass!“ His voice calls excitedly. Richie jumps up at the sight of the new shore, his face lighting up entirely. ”Look, Mommy! There are so many little white dots! Are they snowflakes?“

”Those are flowers. Lilies of the valley," his mother replies. I guess kids are kids, she thinks to herself. Still, her son's excitement almost makes her forget the aching and the soreness in her arms.

Richie looks on overhead, his eyes widening in glee as they get closer. “Lilies of the valley,” he breaths, repeating the name. “I've never seen so many flowers in one place before…!”

“Well, you have now, haven't you?” His mother grins as she rows the boat to the pier, where another set of wooden poles await them. Her arms, back and shoulders ache but there was no time to think about that now.

She patted her son's head, before getting up to tie the boat's rope to a wooden pole.

Richie clambers out of the boat as he watches her, popping another jelly bean into his mouth. He reaches into the packet for another, only to realise that there's one left. With a satisfied sigh, he pulls it out of the packet.

“Ready?” His mom asks, stretching out to take his hand. He places the last jelly bean in her outstretched hand instead, smiling up at her. “Here, Mommy. You can have it.”

She smiles back, a pearly laugh escaping her lips as she takes the small treat. “Aw, you're so sweet, Richie. Thank you.”

“Your welcome, Mommy.” The boy grinned, taking his mother's hand. They set off together, down the pier and before long, onto a gravel path.

There were others that visited the island, but those visits were often to the heart of the capital city and thus Richie's family, once a year, would meet in their special spot for a family picnic. It was their own little adventure, the same journey, but a different experience each time.

Like they had the entire world to themselves.

Last year, he had gone with his father, and his older sister with their mother. This year, things had been swapped around, as per usual.

“Mommy?”

“Mhmm?”

“I love you lots and lots and lots,” Richie holds onto his mother's hand tightly as she replies, "I love you lots and lots and lots too, Richie. In fact, I love you so much that I want to give you a big, big hug!"

She lifts him up without warning, and he shrieks in delight, giggling as he settles into a warm embrace mixed with the faint, familiar scent of his mother's perfume and the sweet aroma of jelly beans.

The ocean could still be heard from afar, with every wave splashing and splashing…

…and splashing away. Richie sighed, using the last of his strength to push his small, wooden boat onto the shore. At long last, he stumbled out of it and collapsed onto the sand, heaving heavy breaths.

“Richard! If you want the money, you better start getting back to work!” A voice yelled from nearby, barely a second afterward. “I don't pay you to laze about all day!”

“Sorry, sir!” Richie called back, hastily sitting up. He brushed some of the sand off of him, sighing again.

The waves met the shore over and over again, trapped in a loop of repeated motion. There was no trace of life in their dull, grey colored selves; no trace of anything that had ever travelled atop them.

“I wish I could go home…” Richie murmured, standing up as he glanced over at the tens of barrels that awaited him.

A chilly breeze whistled from across the ocean, carrying with it a plastic packet, still wet after what must have been an adventure on the ocean. Richie catches it just as before it has a chance to escape, lifting it up to see what it is.

One packet of jelly beans, with a shrivelling white petal wrapped around the last of the candy.

All at once, Richie's bones seem to ache just a little less.

He almost thinks he catches the faint scent of his mother's perfume drifting on the wind, a mere reminder of days from long ago.

Then, as quickly as it arrived, it disappears.

1404 words

March 3 - Icecream daily! I want to pick it up with another daily but i had some fun jumping around with perspectives.

I fastened a small, wooden sign onto the gray doorknob of the glass entryway. In cream, spirally letters (courtesy of your grandma's obsession with getting good grades on cursive homework,) it read “Open on weekends! We run from six AM to nine thirty PM.” Next to it was a simplistic drawing of a strawberry pie with a smile on it. “Why would anyone give a pie a smile? Sets unrealistic expectations if you ask me!” Settle do- “Will! Shush! Let Grandpa tell the story!” “Mira…be nice to your brother.” “Yes Grandpa…” “I'll continue then.” That day was March 28, 1952, when me and your grandma helped open the family bakery on ninth street. I remember we all argued on what to call it; First your Grandma wanted to call it Sugar and Spice, then I thought Breakfast in Bread would work better. My mother said that we should name it Autumn Crisp, but my father disagreed, as they did with most things, and wanted to go with my idea. “Two outvotes one!” I had teased your Grandma after our parents had started painting the title on the vibrant green awning. You know how she responded? “You're becomin' Dad; You know he only wanted yours because of the pun.” That one caught me so off guard, I couldn't even fire back! She was feisty, always had been…Anyways, as soon as that old sign was hung, I opened the door and went inside. The rope from the sign burned my hands, but it wasn't a big deal. I hurt my hands all the time! And my legs. And my arms. I was usually covered in bandages, whether it be by being clumsy or by adventuring off into the woods that was connected to the park at the edge of town, I'd always come home with a scratch or a bruise. Or covered in dirt. “Well, Jess, I hung up your odd sign!” I had called in. Looking around the shop, there wasn't much to it. Three tables round as an orange, nine sturdy chairs (two per table, three extra), a counter that me and your grandma Jess spent years saving up to buy, with a glass wall and shelves so you could see what you were buying before you even bought it, a crate behind that for me and Jess to stand on, and a few other customary items like a pumpkin-shaped welcome mat. Jess slid off the second wooden table. “It's not weird, it's advertising. People ‘round here like pie, a-ight?” She fixed one of her auburn braids so it laid almost like the one on the right shoulder of her striped shirt. “ ’Specially that Gwen girl. Strawberry pie's her favorite.” She started to walk over behind the counter and look for the sticky bun tray. “Hey Mom, where'd you put those sticky buns we made on Friday?” Our mother responded from the other room absentmindedly. “Oh, uh, should be next to the caramel cheesecake.” “Thanks.” She scanned the counter for a few moments, and then selected a tray with sticky buns coating the top. She put a tiny folded piece of paper with the words ‘Sticky buns, $3.48 each’ on the front of the tray and slid it onto the fourth glass shelf. She then took a piece of strawberry pie and slid it onto the plate, adding some whipped cream on top. “Ooo, somebody trying to impress? Bet Gwen likes whipped cream too.” I had commented smugly, still at the second table. “Dean!” Jess shrunk back in embarrassment, sliding the plate onto the table near the counter. “So you admit it?” I pressed, already plotting to tell Gwen as soon as I saw her tomorrow. “Naw, I'm not going to give you a sliver of satisfactio-” “Alright Pa, I think it's time for these two to go to sleep” “But Dad! He was gonna get to the good part!” “Sorry Will, not tonight.” “Oh well…bye Grandpa!” “Bye!” Mira echoed, and shut the door behind her. Now, it's just me and you, old guy. Pass me a sourdough bagel, would you, we need to have a talk.

3rd March Daily 2022
“33 Flavours”
Flavours (TheBookLover_1point0): seven foot rat cream, rats along his rat cream, when he calls you a rat it all fades to rat cream
449 words
IK THIS IS TERRIBLE OKAY

//
The rats were all sitting surrounding the campfire, having recently defeated the group of fairies in a friendly game of “keep the honkey nut up.” Due to this win, the fairies were obligated to give the rats their little mushroom stools and camp set up for the night, which the rats were currently thoroughly enjoying. The fire was proving to be much warmer than their usual hidey-holes in the little logs.

“Listen, listen!” one of the youngster rats reappeared from the darkness in which he had ran off to play earlier. She ran up to the fire excitedly, before one of the elders quickly took her by the arm and pulled her away, hushing about the dangers of the flame. The little rat rolls her eyes, the flames only adding to the thrill of the night. She had never experienced a bonfire before.

“Guess what?” she yelled in happiness, twirling around to view the whole group. “Grandma said,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Grandma said that she would make her famous… APPLE PIE!”

The whole circle of rats immediately erupted into applause at this. It was a sign of respect, to both Grandma and her apple pie in itself.

“But wait,” the little rat continued, voice lower this time. “I’m not done yet.”

The crowd held their breath.

“She also said that she wouldn’t be cooking it on the stove like usual,” she grinned, keeping the audience waiting just a little bit longer. They sat, all impatient. “She said… that she’d be cooking the pie… on the FIRE!”

The crowd erupted into applause again, ten times louder than the previous time. The claps were even accompanied by a few squeals and screams and “WOO WOO”s of excitement this time around. Everyone knew how good Grandma’s apple pie tasted, ESPECIALLY when it was cooked over the rare bonfire that the rats took part in every now and then. The flames just gave it that extra crispiness.

For the next few hours as the night continued on, the stars watching them from above, the rats filled the air with campfire songs and games and dances and so on, while the fairies sat away in the dark, trying not to dwell on their defeat as they listened to the rat’s celebrations. Suddenly, a cry was heard. Not a scared cry – an excited cry.

‘GRANDMA’S PIE!!!!” Everyone turned their heads to the one rat’s shout. Sure enough, there came Grandma balancing a gigantic apple pie on one plate, in one hand. And… what was that on the side?

“Oh my heavens…” one of the rats closest to Grandma whispered. “It’s got cream too.”

Apple pie AND cream? This night couldn’t get any better.

Daily, March 3
Ice cream flavors: candle, rain, constellation
(But sadly I didn't actually involve ice cream.)

Mountain mist splashed the hem of my cloak, making it snap against my feet with every step. Hazy moonlight painted the sharp slope in front of me. Only the weak yellow glow of the candle in my hands revealed my surroundings as they were: normal, earthly rocks.
I struggled further upwards. Pebbles clattered down the mountain at my heels, reminding me just how close I might be to falling. Without a free hand, I couldn't even catch myself.
The candle had never been meant to be carried around like this– its long, solid weight wobbled in my hands.Veins of melted wax trickled over the intricate etchings on its sides, nearly cool by the time they reached my fingers.
Almost there, I reminded myself as my legs shook. Just reach the peak.
Because the legends had to be true. There had to be some kind of creature up here, watching my light creep towards them. Something had to be causing that effect we watched through the windows back home, where stars danced above the mountaintop.
Someone had to be up there with enough magic to save us. My family.
My foot came down on level earth. The peak rose above me, gentle…
… and empty.
I'd been so sure that I'd reach the peak and the mist and clouds surrounding me would disappear– sure that something would be here. But there was nothing. Only the soft roll of a tiny cave and more midnight haze.
A single raindrop fell, nearly hitting the fizzing flame of the candle. More droplets spattered on the back of my cloak.
Rain. I couldn't go back. How far could I get before my candle went out? Before I was left alone, on the mountain, in the dark?
Not far. I dove for the cave.
My candlelight glinted off walls the color of charcoal. From the outside I'd have guessed that this was no more than a small hollow, but now the cave seemed to fill the whole peak. I collapsed just past the entrance, shaking and perfectly aware that I didn't have any spare time.
Something stirred at the far end of the cave. A rock. No, a liquid rock. No, a solid patch of night sky, dark as nothingness.
My candle fizzed out, but from behind the creature, new silver light filled the space.
I was right.
There was someone up here. I sat at the feet of a living constellation.

3/3 Daily:
TW WARNING /!!\ d3ath (not graphic, just the remembrance of love)

I walked along Junedy Street, the bittersweet memories washing over me. I remembered that long-lost day, the day that I had won the girl's race for that week.

I had gotten 2 place out of 33, and had gotten out celebrating with Dylax, my older brother, and Jule-Jay, my younger brother. It was a rainy day, and as we were walking to Halo's, the restaurant in where I would have a coupon because I won.Victory was washing over me, pushing me into a daze. And just as we were walking, I heard the crunch… of gravel spraying .

Okay, you guys are probably wondering how I know the sound of gravel spraying. We did run the mile, after all! I turned around quickly, tightening my grip on Dylax's arm. Jule-Jay stood there. Staring at me. With hollowed white eyes, he stared. And stared. Finally, he opened his mouth- “I love you…” and he was gone. Forever.

We had, of course, gone into Halo and and phoned our mother, Jewel Gaachi, so she could come. Needless to say, we left the diner more than sad; mourning. My younger brother, Dylax's younger brother, Mother's youngest and dearest, just gone. And I remember, seeing those tracks as we walked home, grieving. Those tracks, the one by the animal. By a turtle, according to me mother. I wondered how she new that small fact, how she could even remember it, through the grief. A small memory ran through my mind, “Did she even like him? She never even payed attention to him, that much.” And we simply continued walking home. Like nothing happened.

I remember sitting in bed, wishing for the end. I remember weeping, joined by Dylax only 3 hours late. And yet, still, still, mother didn't care. After a week of grief, my mother forced Dylax and I to go to school. Mother, the famous cloth and jewelry designer Jewel, wasn't mourning. This was the newest news, “Sponsor of the Jewelry Fiesta isn't Mourning the Death of her Third Child!”

I decided to go to this Ice Creameria, House of Bliss. They were testing this new flavor, Turtle Tracks. I asked for some; it really was just matcha ice cream with green m&m's. Everyone recognized me from the paper, and I was given a medium scoop on the house. I put a spoonful in my mouth. It was a tang bitter. Like when.. my mother pointed out those turtle tracks… the day Jule-Jay died.

(412 words)

3/3 Daily 492 words

INT. CAFE - DAY

MELISSA walks up to the counter.
MELISSA
One scoop of neapolitan and one scoop of cookies and cream, please.

CASHIER
Alright.

CASHIER scoops up the two scoops of ice cream from the bins between them, and places them on the counter.
CASHIER
That’ll be $3.00, please.

MELISSA swipes her card, stuffs it in her bag, then takes the ice cream and a spoon.

MELISSa
Thank you!

CASHIER
Thanks.

MELISSA walks out of the cafe.

EXT. PLAZA - DAY

MELISSA walks down the sidewalk while eating her ice cream.

MELISSA
Mmmmm.

MELISSA looks over at a KID and their DAD lying on the grass, observing the clouds. MELISSA looks up. A breeze passes by, and gray clouds roll in. Droplets begin to fall.

MELISSA
Oh…

She looks down at her ice cream bowl. The ice cream is getting soggy. She begins to gulp it down. In the distance, KID starts jumping around.

KID
IT’S RAINING!

DAD
It is! That’s so cool, isn’t it?

KID
Yes! But- but now we can’t see the clouds because we’re going to get water in our face!

DAD
Oh, you’re right…

KID
I’ll think of something else.

KID looks around and spots MELISSA gulping down her ice cream. He runs over to her.

KID
Hey! Did you know that your ice cream looks like the sidewalk?

MELISSA looked down at the cookies and cream ice cream, then the sidewalk, which was spotted with raindrops.

MELISSA
Oh, huh, it does.

KID
And the other one looks like…

KID looks around. DAD is walking towards them.

DAD
I’m so sorry-

MELISSA
Oh, no, it’s okay!

DAD
(to KID)
I’ve told you not to talk to strangers!

KID
But her ice cream looks like the sidewalk! Rain ice cream. Cookies and cream sidewalk. Heheh.

DAD
Oh, huh, it does. By the way, where’d you get that ice cream?

MELISSA
Oh, in that cafe over there.

MELISSA points to the cafe.

DAD
Oh, alright.
(to KID)
Hey, wanna get some ice cream?

KID
Yeah!

DAD
Okay. Thank you!

KID and DAD wave at MELISSA and walk away. She smiles and continues to eat her ice cream, which is now extremely soggy. Most of the people in the plaza have left by now, due to the rain.
MELISSA keeps walking, and gets to another part of the plaza. The tiles are white, pink and brown, like her neapolitan ice cream.

MELISSA
Huh.

MELISSA looks up and tries to find something else that looks like her ice cream. Nothing. She looks down at her ice cream, and notices that it’s become even more spotty.

MELISSA
Rain ice cream.

She keeps walking across the plaza and notices a bowl of ice cream on the floor. She bends down and picks it up. It’s filled with water. She curiously lifts it up and sniffs it.

MELISSA
Eugh. Probably wouldn’t taste good.

She tosses it in a trash can near her, and walks away.

Elixir, creamy mint, caramel popcorn

Sage Stallard & Marigold Hart

Word count: 491

Story:

“You two look lost, come on in,” said a mysterious woman, making me and Marigold flinch. She wore a long navy skirt going down to her ankles paired with a mustard yellow top. So not exactly witch-like, but I definitely didn’t want to go into her house.

“Hello,” Marigold said cheerfully, but I could tell she didn’t want to stick around any more than I did. “We aren’t lost, we’re, er, hiking.”

I nodded, “There’s a trail just east of here, called the-”

“Well come inside to rest, you look tired.” The woman cut me off, which was probably a good thing, since me and Marigold weren’t really here to hike and I’d probably give that away real fast by naming a hiking trail that didn’t exist.

“Oh, no, we’re-” I started, but the woman grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside with more force than I thought was possible for such a frail-looking person. I turned to look at Marigold over my shoulder, who was trying her absolute hardest to keep on the fake-smile.

“I have homemade ice cream, you should try it,” the woman told us.

“No, but thank you very much for the offer.” Marigold laced her fingers in mine for support, though I wasn’t sure who was supporting who.

“Nonsense, sit down,” the woman motioned to the table, and we were forced to sit down under her icy glare, which faded to a warm smile as we sat. We were served ice cream in little bowls, one was a light green, the other whiite and light brown. I love ice cream, but no way was I eating that.

There was a strangled meowing sound from another room, and the woman muttered something and left, assuring us she'd be right back.

“Sage, don’t eat anything she gives us,” Marigold whispered urgently, and I nodded. I scooped some of my ice cream into a nearby trash can so it looked like I'd been eating it, and she was about to do the same when the mysterious woman stepped in and frowned at her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her glare reappearing.

“I dropped my spoon, sorry about that,” Marigold said without missing a beat, and dropping the whole plastic spoon in the trash.

“Hm.” The woman got her a new spoon. “Try some,” she said forcefully.

Marigold pushed the bowl forward. “I’m not hungry, you’re not supposed to eat right before hiking.”

“Just a bite won’t hurt,” she said, a dangerous note creeping into her voice. “It’s Caramel Popcorn flavor, one of my personal favorites.”

Marigold smiled and took a tiny bite. “It tastes delicious, but we really need to go.”

Surprisingly, the woman didn’t stop us as we left.

“I’m glad you like it. Its extra flavor comes from the poison.” And then she closed the door.

Marigold walked over to a tree and sat with her head leaning against the trunk. “I believe her,” she muttered.

Summer, Light, Winter flavor icecream were my words.

When I saw Nayeli walk into her room, she seemed to had seen a familiar face of a friend. “Winter!” she screamed.
Nayeli has always had a strange habit of talking to her seasons and such. It seems to calm her down in her darkest moments and gave her someone to talk to at night.
She asks and tells the world everything she ever knows or needs. Whether it is something as simple as a school crush, or something as big as she is going to Canada for the summer, she always tells these imaginary, real concepts but not people, things. Some believe that Nayeli tells more things to the world than her parents. And to be honest.. that was true!

Nayeli loved to tell the Earth things. She feels that since it inhabits her and held her life in its hands, it deserved to know more about her. Although it never talked back, she was more than happy to pour a story out there to these imaginary people in her mind.
She has different personalities for them as well.
Summer is the preppy kind of gal. She likes to walk around with a smile and never lets down anybody. She loves to eat muffins, cake, and all sugars, and when Summer sees someone sad, she cheers them up with the biggest grin.
At least… that’s what Nayeli tells me!
Right now, we are currently in the season of Winter so Nayeli is talking to them a lot more. And yes.. she has also given genders and pronouns to every single one of them. Every season it is always the same thing, but she really loves Winter and Summer.
And not to mention Light!
She lovesss Light!
Nayeli often talks about Light and even though I’m her big brother and don’t listen to her much, I sometimes worry about how excessive Nayeli is over her seasons and scientific concepts. Don’t even get me started on the water cycle! She says Condensation is a good person to talk to, I guess I can’t complain.
Anyways, at the moment of Nayeli is talking to Winter and Light. She seems to be playing with them by seeing if her shadow will change in the snow when she is in front of Light. And shocker… it does!
Of course, that is not too big of a deal, Nayeli does know basic science and is seven years old and I have explained the concept of light to her SEVERAL times before but Nayeli always says it is just Light’s way of saying he wants to play.
Ahh yes of course.
Classic Nayeli.

March 3, 2022
Ice Cream flavors suggested by @alcyone47: Mist, Ink, and Book
Word Count: 1397
TOC: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=31#post-6087486
————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“HIIIIIII!”

Momo rushed towards me faster than lightning, and before I could run away, she had already wrapped me into a big bear hug. Right in front of the whole school. Although, she never cared for what others thought, so I had to take the embarrassment for her.

“I had been so bored, thank goodness school is finally over, phew! You know, on the math exam, there was this super duper wooper hard question, I swear, we didn’t even learn that in math, like, ever, but the rest was pretty easy. When I finished the test, there were still thirty minutes left. Thirty whole minutes! It was sooooo boring, ugh. And I didn’t even bring a book!”

“Yes, yes, very, supremely boring–”

I finally struggled out of her strong arms. Holy, she was strong. Stronger than a bear, actually, but I mean, I can’t be sure because I have never dealt with a bear before.

“Exactly, supremely boring!” Momo searched through her little pink purse and took out a hairband, then reached behind her to fix her glistening black hair into a ponytail. She was wearing a simple but stylish blue blouse, accompanied by jet black jeans. She never wore makeup, but I’m warning you, if you ever had to compete against her beauty, you are going to get crushed. Maybe literally, maybe not, take it as you wish.

Many students eyed us wearily as we were literally in the middle of the hallway, but they all made sure not to push us because of you-know-who.

Except for two of the students, that is.

Momo immediately spotted said students and pulled them over (literally) to the middle of the hallway.

One of the poor children Momo dragged over was Drake, a dark-skinned, chill dude who’s “super duper wooper shy” if Momo was to describe him. He was wearing a faded-green hoodie and some regular ol’ jeans. The other poor child was Maya, a red-hair who had glasses and loved reading books.

Author’s note: You see where I’m going? ;0

She had sharp features, making her seem strict despite her warm heart.

Sensing Momo’s hype, I had a feeling she was going to blabber about the math exam again, but before she could, I intercepted.

“Uh, Momo, why don’t we go somewhere else to talk? Cuz it's a bit, you know…” I gestured around at the students still navigating around us in the hallway. “…crowded here?”

“Crowded?” Momo frowned. “It’s not that crowded at all! Look, I can even spread my arms–”

Momo narrowly missed punching a student in the face.

Maya, who had been speculating the scene from the side, finally couldn’t stand it.

“Why don’t we go to the Yeltsa Kcir Ice Cream shop?” she suggested. Momo, who absolutely loved ice cream, immediately agreed with enthusiasm, even attempting to jump up and down right in the school hallway. I swear, one day, her head is going to hit the ceiling with that height. What’s more, apparently she’s the teacher’s pet in all her classes, meaning she wouldn’t ever get in trouble for doing what she does. Before I can even dwell on how someone who wears a tiny pink purse can have such a fearsome aura, she dragged us (literally) out of the school building, into open sunlight, onto the sidewalks, and barged into her favorite ice cream shop. The Yeltsa Kcir Ice Cream shop.

“The usual, please!”

Momo basically slammed the money onto the poor counter, but the attendant behind the counter was already used to this.

“Coming right up!”

The shop was especially busy today, but for some miraculous reason, Momo’s favorite table wasn’t taken. Perhaps the customers even knew not to bother Momo without knowing they should not bother Momo, who knows.

Momo started explaining her math exam again as we waited. When she finally finished explaining (which only took a minute with her talking speed), she asked Maya about her exams.

“Well, I would not say the test was hard, but it was not easy either.” Maya pushed her glasses up a bit, which is her way of fidgeting when she doesn’t have a book to read. Even so, with her straight face and her equally straight back, no one dared to make fun of her excessive fidgeting. Except for Momo due to her brutally honest nature, that is, but not if she was in a good mood.

Since today was a rather relaxing day, Momo nodded, smiling, apparently satisfied with Maya’s answer.

“Well, Drake,” Momo turned towards the quiet kid in the hoodie. “What about you? Were the final exams hard?”

“…It was fine.” Drake’s velvety, deep voice floated like a mist,

Authors note: *wink wink*

subtly enveloping the four of us with its deepness.

However, before Momo could push further, our favorite ice creams arrived. Momo squealed, ever so enthusiastic, and thanked the attendant before digging in on her dark chocolate ice cream, completely forgetting about the conversation on exams. To say the truth, the dark chocolate ice cream compliments her inky black hair very well. Did I mention she was also wearing dark jeans? I guess you could refer to Momo as the ink on paper, bold and confident, strong and powerful. Yet, it’s as if she was the ink written in many different styles–bold, bubbly, and cursive, just to name a few, and each of the different styles contribute to Momo’s fun personality.

Watching Momo devour ice cream, a funny term came to my mind: ink flavored ice cream. Quite an interesting flavor indeed, but surprisingly, I thought it suited her well. Life’s weird.

Feeling some sense of fate, I glimpsed at Maya, then looked away and squinted my eyes, thinking. Really, I still don’t dare stare at Maya despite being friends for so long, her cold face really just… just makes you cower, you know? (Again, Momo's the exception.) But… over the years, I did come to learn that Maya’s strict face is just a shell. Kind of like the cover of a book; she has a cold face, but she has a warm heart. It’s like, you just can’t judge a book by its cover, and that is the same way with Maya. Through the corner of my eye, I saw her scoop a tiny spoonful of her mint ice cream, and I couldn’t help but think of book-flavored ice cream. Okay okay, I actually have a good reason for this. Lately she’s been reading this green book, something about a house and green and glass or something, and the green color of the mint ice cream reminded me of that equally green book, book-flavored ice cream is a totally fine thought, don’t call me crazy!

I took one final, “supremely” quick glimpse at Maya, and then my eyes moved on to Drake.

Drake held the ice cream bowl in his large hands, eating plain vanilla ice cream. I watched him as he tried to scoop the ice cream without letting the spoon touch the sides, as if he was afraid of making any noise. I think it’s kind of weird that he does this, but perhaps he just doesn’t like extra noise. Still, I could never see through what he’s thinking, as if he’s a fog, a mist; as if your vision is always hazy when it comes to him. Oh, and his gentle voice, just wraps around you kind of like how mist does to mountains… and staring at that melting vanilla ice cream…

“Mist-flavored ice cream.”

“Whach?” Momo still had a large scoop of ice cream in her mouth when she said that.

“What?” I asked. Momo gulped down her ice cream.

“You said something about a flavor?”

“I did?”

“Yeah, something about flavor and mist or something.”

I did not realize I had spoken that aloud. Welp.

“Ohhhh, yeah, I did. I meant that I like this flavor”–I tapped my ice cream bowl–”like mountains does to mist.” I scooped some of my Yeltsa Kcir specialty ice cream and stuffed it in my mouth to prove it.

I’m not sure if I used the correct analogy, but that’s what happens when I think on my feet. Yuh.

Momo didn’t question my silly excuse, smiled, then continued to down her large bowl of dark chocolate ice cream.

I savored the sweet, almost peculiar, flavor of my ice cream, and looked at the group around me.

Ink-flavored, book-flavored, and mist-flavored ice cream.

It was nice.

Author's note: This took longer than I expected lol, but it was fun!

Important notes:

• Underlined terms are my way of foreshadowing the three ice cream flavors. Bolded terms are when I actually use the terms of the three ice cream flavors.
  

• I changed up the order of the ice cream flavors though, sorry 'bout that ahaha.
  

• Word count does not include Author's Notes
  

Yes this was a last minute entry lol.

Also, I have absolutely no idea how to space out dialogue and paragraphs, so I just gave up and spaced everything out. If you have any ideas on spacing these things, please let me know here: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31124892/comments

Thanks for reading! ^^

————————————————————————————————————————————————-
©️ Lᴜɴᴀ ✨

Chocolate Pudding, Wolf, Starlight

Kayla curled up in her favorite niche of her apartment wrapped up in a blanket, and started eating her ice cream. It was a new flavor, chocolate pudding. It was chocolate ice cream with pudding around it. It was delicious. After her busy day, she needed it. She had worked day after day in college, and she just wanted a break.
The next day, after classes, Kayla went back to the Wolf Cream Bakery. The place was a bakery, but mainly served ice cream. And it was only a fifteen minute walk. But the main reason was because they switched out their ice cream with new flavors every week. The only flavors they kept were the main ones, like chocolate, and vanilla, along with their signature wolf cream. It was a gray colored flavor of your choice with little fancy piped decorations that gave the appearance of a wolf.
But this week's flavor was starlight ice cream. Last week was chocolate pudding ice cream. Since last week's ice cream was so good, Kayla knew the starlight ice cream had to be good. The starlight ice cream was like a dragon fruit sorbet, with streaks of lemon sorbet. It looked amazing, so Kayla bought it.
Kayla wandered around the park in between her dorm and the Wolf Cream Bakery. She eventually found a little bench under a tree and sat down, still eating her starlight sorbet.
Once she was just about done, a nice looking woman sat down next to her, an apron tied around her waist. Kayla recognized her as the manager of the Wolf Cream Bakery.
“Beautiful day out, isn’t it?” She asked Kayla.
“Yeah.” Kayla said. “Your name is Jessica, right?”
“That’s me.” She replied, smiling.
Kayla smiled back.
“So, I was wondering, since you are such a great customer, and you stop by a lot, how would you like to work at the Wolf Cream Bakery for a little while? We need some more employees, and it pays okay. What do you think?”
“I think about it, I guess.” Kayla replies back, a little puzzled.
The next week, after classes, Kayla put on her apron and walked to the Wolf Cream Bakery. She doesn’t know what swayed her to become an employee, but she did. Maybe it was the fact that she might get some free ice cream or baked goods. Kayla laughed to herself quietly.
She walked the path she had multiple times to her new job. She was a little nervous, obviously. But she was also very excited. Even if it was just part time, she knew she would love this.
436 words

4/03
Today is 33 flavors day! In the comments, write 3 ice cream flavors (They don't have to be real! Maybe you can create dragon fire ice cream or glass ice cream) and then choose someone else's 3 ice cream flavors. (Note: It's totally fine if someone else has “claimed” someone's flavors, you can choose those too if you really want to ^^) Create a story of at least 400 words using their 3 flavors as inspiration for 500 points, plus 200 bonus points if you share your writing!

Total word count:470
_____

I gaze out the window, watching the raindrops dance across the pane. My breath mists up the glass, so I use my sleeve to wipe it away. It’s so cold…

The earthy smell carries me back into the past. I remember the days when she would sit here with me, her hand in mine. We would watch the birds come and go in the garden, laughing and talking, like any best friends would do. Little did we know that our friendship would not last.

The memory still haunts me - of the day that it happened. We were wandering together in the forest, comparing verbal notes for our upcoming science test, when she collapsed, panting. At first, I assumed it was a joke, but when she didn’t get up, I began to panic. I called the emergency number, and an ambulance came to pick her up. The sirens and the blue and red lights… I don’t remember anything else from that day.


Just a little over 24 hours later, I got a call from the hospital. They told me she would be fine, that she's just sick. I was terrified.

A week later she was let out of the hospital, almost completely better. She was acting strangely though. Nervous. She would not meet my eyes. Where is the joking, smiley girl I know?

That night, I heard gentle noises coming from outside. I investigated, only to find her seated on the wooden veranda, staring out into the darkness. It was raining that night too. I remember how the crystal-like droplets of water glinted silver in the surrounding black.

I wandered over quietly. She did not look up when I sat next to her, just rested her head against my shoulder and sighed. “It's so beautiful out here.” Her voice was soft.

“I know.” I said. She finally looked up.

It was the first time I had seen her smile in ages. I could not help but smile back. I leaned against her too, breathing in her sweet vanilla scent.

“Hey…” My friend stood up. I turned to her, tilting my head as a question.

She walked back inside, and I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen.
“You ok…?” I ask.
“Better than ok.” She replied, then fell silent again.
“I missed you in the hospital.” She whispered.
“I missed you too.”

I went back outside, inhaling the icy, fresh air. Raindrops bounced off the grass blades, making the yard appear to be swaying and rippling in the rain.
Finally, she returned and handed me something. A small cup full of ice cream. She held one in her hand too.
Chocolate ice cream it seemed. She knows it is my favorite. We sat down.
“I don’t want to be alone again.”
I placed my hand over hers. “You don't have to be.”

Daily for march 3rd



It was a hot sunny day As speedy walked downed the board walk he sees and ice cream shop. It was named Jakes fantastic 3 SWC flavors. As Speedy walked inside and person said hello I’m Jake. What would you like today. We have Stan’s icy lagoon, Eevee 8 ice cream mix and Paige insane flavor mix. Hmm I’ll take Stan’s icy lagoon. Here you go said jake while scooping it up. It will be $2.99. Here keep the change. Just as speedy took a bit out of it loud rumble and a violent shake came. And soon after a loudspeaker came on and said an earthquake from scratch island has reached us and created a tsunami head right for SWC island! Everyone has 10 minutes to get on a boat and flee!!! Ahhh jake said. Um I need to lock down the shop and get the costumers to safety. Um. Um um. Ok you as he pointed to speedy help he closes down the shop and I’ll take you to safety on thriller island. Ok said speedy. close the door and lock it said Jake. And I’ll put on the alarm. Ok done said speedy urgently. Ok follow me to my boat said jake.

When they got out side it was chaos. Everyone running around trying to find a boat to get on as there was only 5 minutes till the tsunami hit. Jake led speedy to his boat. As speedy climb on to the boat a loudspeaker came on again saying a FREE BOAT IS ON DOCK 7. Ok here we go said Jake. We have enough gas to get to thriller island. Ok so is there a place i could say said speedy. Yeah LJs mansion she could let you stay there for a bit. Sure l’ll stay there. They speed to thriller island. And Speedy got to LJ’s mansion and as speedy watch the news and saw that SWC island was completely destroyed . The tv reporter said it was a devastating wave that hit and destroyed most of the chains of scratch’s islands. Then speedy turned off the tv and thought about what happened today and went to sleep. When speedy woke up he was on he bed in his room in his house on scratch island and figured out it was a dream.

THE END

3/3/22
613 words

Aspen shivers uncomfortably as a chilly breeze sweeps past her. It worms its way under her clothes, biting and nipping at her skin. Her mother would tell her to hurry back, lest she catch a cold, but Aspen sees no need to rush. Though the sky is dark with clouds, it has not yet begun to rain, so she takes her time hopping through the puddles on the sidewalk.

Careful to keep the grocery bag well above the splash zone, she hops into a particularly large puddle right outside her apartment. It sends droplets pattering back onto the sidewalk, the noise echoing through the otherwise silent area.

After a few moments of contently standing outside, soaking in the rain-sidewalk smell, she turns to go inside. Her mother willl most likely be calling out any minute, and admittedly, it is starting to get a little chilly.

Then she hears a hoarse cough sound from the side of the complex.

Curiousity piqued, she tiptoes out to investigate.

There, standing behind a trash can, stands a raggedy old woman. She has to be he oldest woman Aspen’s ever seen.

The woman coughs into her wet sleeve before continuing her rummaging, apparently unaware of Aspen’s presence. It takes a second, but she finally realizes why the woman was so familiar.

“Are you Ragged Maggie?” She blurts out before wincing. That really wasn’t polite.

The woman looks up, and Aspen finds the old, wrinkly face a little frightening. But running off would be even more impolite, so she stands still.

“Yes,” Ragged Maggie replies. “I am.”

Aspen’s heard of ragged Maggie before. She passed her once on her way out to the bus once a few months ago, and her neighbors told her stories about how she would steal away little puppies and kittens and eat them. She doesn’t know if that’s true, but she doubts it. There’s no way such an old lady could catch speedy puppies and kittens.

Aspen’s mother always told her to stay away from Ragged Maggie, because she was a stranger and strangers can be dangerous. But Aspen is a good seven years old, and she figures that if she can walk to the corner store all by herself, then she can talk to the old lady digging through a trash can by herself too.

“Why are you digging through the trash can?” Aspen asks. “You’re gonna get your hands all dirty.”

The woman blinks at her before gruffly answering, “I need something to eat, dumb child.”

Aspen wrinkles her nose at the bad word, but doesn’t otherwise react. She looks down at the grocery bag and realizes that the only type of food she has is a pineapple.

Well, pineapples are good. And she’s sure her mother wouldn’t mind too much, especially if it was between Maggie eating that or garbage.

“Here,” she says, pulling the pineapple out. “You can have my pineapple. Mama doesn’t need it so bad, and if she does, then I’ll just go back out and get another one.”

Ragged Maggie just stares at the fruit, and Aspen gently pushes it into her hands. “Don’t be shy! Just take it. Now you’ll have something to eat!”

Ragged Maggie stands stock-still, and Aspen begins to worry she did something wrong. But then the old woman smiles a gentle, toothy grin and murmurs, “Thank you, child.”

“You’re welcome, Maggie. Now, I gotta go, because Mama’s gonna want me back soon, but if you’re hungry again, then you should just stop by my place. We’ll give you something to eat.”

And then Aspen waves, before taking off toward home. The woman behind her laughs, and the sound makes Aspen smile wider.

Daily for March Second, 2022. Late, but yeah.

“For all the worlds’ sake, why did you bring me here?” Bee groaned, steadying her little synthetic leather satchel and glaring at her older brother, Ire. The taller pixie ruffled her hair,
“Don’t be so grumpy Bee! It’s just some ice cream, besides, you’ve been studying all day- for what!? You aced that test!” The greenish being exclaimed, leading his younger sister through the heavily populated streets of Aksi, about a thirteen minute fly from their own neighborhood. Bee huffed, but followed Ire eagerly. Mostly because she didn’t want to get lost in this maze of small real estate dreams. Literally. The shops, although small, were all feats of architecture in their own way - as if little pieces of beauty had been all stuffed together in a collage, where nothing quite matched but still looked like a pinnacle of modern building. Exactly somewhere Ire would love to be around, Bee, however, preferred the quiet, peaceful halls of the Ritianda Library, which, although was a free to the public small space of heaven, was actually apart of one of the greatest college on World 5,6, & 8 : Cipher Institute for the Intellectual and Intelligents. A multi species college with a multitude of specializations that Bee Trochilidae would give anything to enter, except, perhaps, her brother, who was now leading her to a small corner shop, this one shaped with exquisite jewels , and a chill air surrounding it- [Ire loved it, but as Bee was standing in between the cold air emanating from the ice cream shop, and a very, uncomfortably, hot air originating from a restaurant nearby, she ended up getting the worst of both worlds.

Of course she did.
“Alright Brid-”
“Don’t call me that!” Bee scoffed.
“Why? It’s a nickname, Brood are what you call little bees, and you are a very impish Bee.”
“IRE!”
“Sorry, dwarflike Bee”
“Brood just SOUNDS odd, doesn’t it? Like I’m grumpy all the time.”
“Yes. That works” Ire joked, ruffling Bee’s already messy hair again, before taking her into the store.
“Bee, welcome to Esquire's Ice Cream and Sweet Shop. They have every flavour of ice cream imaginable, and we are going to get random flavours to spice up our day, how does that sound?”
Bee shuddered, “can we just settle for vanilla?” But the look on Ire’s face was a no. Esquire, that name she knew, and it was confirmed when a brownie, about a few inches taller than eight feet came to Ire, and the two joked for a bit before Ire called Bee over.
“Es, meet Bee! My sister, I’ve mentioned her a few times, haven’t I?”
The brownie laughed, looking at Bee as if Ire had just give the funniest joke in the world, “a /few/ times? When lil’ Xan was homesick back at college, he’d just talk nonstop about little Bee doing this and acing that- honestly, I could write your life story with all he bragged about you” The brownie let out another, large laugh, and Bee let out one as well, albeit one much smaller.
“Anyway, we’d like there randomized flavors, please!” Ire said brightly, fishing out his pockets for some kyre, before Esquire stopped him.
“Don’t worry Xan, I’ll just use it as payback for the time you saved me from playing that wretched eirknball” He grinned, showing an odd arrangement of teeth.
“Alright!” Ire shrugged, grinning back and then at Bee, who could only manage a small smile. All this cheeriness was making her head ache.
Brownie disappeared and reappeared a few minutes later, with two bowls of ice cream with three scoops of the same, different ice cream flavors in each. He set them gently down on the counter, with a little biodegradable spoon in each. Bee let out a little squeak of terror, instinctively taking a few steps back, behind Ire, who was eating his ice cream.
“What's wrong?” Her brother asked, taking a large bite of one that seemed to be pulsing a sleepy blue.
“One’s on fire.” Bee whispered, mesmerized and terrified by the ice cream scoop that was, on fire. A very pretty fire, identical to the one in Ire’s bowl.
“Oh. I suppose it is. What is it, Es, arson?” Ire asked curiously, taking a bite of the on-fire ice cream, much to Bee’s terror.
“H-how could you? Does it hurt?”
“Tastes… funny, but a creepy sort of funny, it’s like an acquired taste, has potential to become a favorite” After a moment of chewing, Ire swallowed and gave his little report.
“I-…” Bee gulped, taking a bite of the casual arson flavored ice cream, and expecting to be burned, but instead…
It tasted like what Ire said, an acquired taste, a weird but interesting one. No thank you. She ate a few more bites, and the ice cream itself disappeared- a simple trick, so Bee wasn’t surprised. She took a look at the pulsing baby blue ice cream, which when eaten, felt quite tiring. But Bee kept wanting to eat more, which was odd.
“What’s that?”
“Scrolling on your phone for hours. The humans love it, no idea why. Not one of my best flavors.” Esquire shrugged, and the ice cream disappeared. Hopefully, Bee turned to the last one, which had a grayish-white sort of taste. Hopefully mango or vanilla. That would be all she needed. And it wasn’t. It was clay. Ceramics actually. Of course it was.