Hi..!!
I am from the cabin of Mystery.
Today I am sharing my writing of a novel Land of Mystery
Chapter 1-Way To The Mystery

Long ago in a village named Bheempoor, there was a girl named Isabella who lived with her parents who were rich farmers.

One day, as usual, while her parents were harvesting their crops, they found an unusual box. They call Isabella and give it to her.

Isabella opened the box, in it, she found a map which was leading to a place. She decided to investigate it so she told her parents what she had found and the decision she had made. Her parents didn’t agree at first but Isabella convinced them. They told her, “Isa, be careful and take one of your friends whom you trust the most with you.” Isabella agreed and said “ I will take my best friend Sophie with me”.

She went to Sophie’s house and knocked on the door. Sophie opened the door. They greet each other. Sophie asks “What’s the reason you came here ?” Isabella whispers to Sophie, “I have a secret to tell so come to our secret hideout this evening.” Sophie agrees.


In the evening, both of them reach their secret hideout. Sophie is very eager to know the secret. Isa shows the map to her. Sophie was very excited to see that map. Isa says “ I think, this map leads to a hidden treasure so would you like to join and help me. Sophie agrees and asks “When will we start our journey ?” Isa replies “ Tomorrow morning, at our hideout.”

When Isa checks the map in her house, she spots a riddle on it and decides to tell Sophie about it.

The next morning, they met at their secret hideout. Isa tells everything about the riddle. Sophie replied “ What is it”? Isa replied, “ The riddle is—-I am huge but my core is very small, my strength and weakness is you, reach me, you found the treasure.” Sophie says, “Isa, this is a very tricky one, I wonder what the answer might be.” Isabella replies, “Yes, indeed, I wonder if it is something magical.”

Sophie replies, “Don’t be so foolish, Isa! Magic isn’t real!” Isa says, “There is a strange feeling inside me which tells that magic is real.”

Suddenly, an old woman appears walking down the path towards the two friends. The old woman asks “What are you girls talking about?” Isa froze for a minute and replied in an uncertain way, “Uh, we are just planning for a picnic.” The old woman asks, “What is that piece of paper in your hand ?” Isa panics while Sophie replies, “Oh, that's the map to our respective homes . ”
The old woman says, “Ok girls, be careful as this forest is very dense and dangerous.”

The woman sings a song loudly while walking down the path-
“The magic starts from the land
Mysterious things will begin now
You know what to do
You’ll fade away
If you’re not strong enough
Mysterious things will begin now”.

The woman disappears.

Isa says, “Sophie, I think it is something about us.” Sophie replies, “Yes, it might be a warning for us.” Isa agrees with Sophie.


Isa says, “No matter what happens, we will follow the map to where it leads.” Sophie agrees and says, “Though I don’t believe in magic, I think the place where the map leads might be a magic land. Isa agreed with Sophie and said “ It would be good if we take the help of our elders. “ Sophie said “Yes, then whom can we ask for help ?” Isa replied “I guess my parents might know something about it.”

Sophie asks Isa, “Why do you think so?” Isa replies, “My parents often tell stories about a magic land.” Sophie says “We’ve found the key to the mystery!”

thread 2 - continuation of my previous thread!

daily 3/10 (+502)
inspiration is taken from the dream smp minecraft server
poem 1 - ode to war

There is something chilling about the call of war
Like seeks like, and blood seeks blood
His mask is pulled down; the skull of a boar
But if he were to be cut it'd be a crimson flood

The blade, the god, the bane of peace
A weapon forged from the flames of spite
The boar has been hunted but blood never ceased
Now he takes up arms to finish his fight

A boy stands alone in the midst of the battle
Foolish or brave, one might never know
Screaming obscenities over weapons a'rattle
They've both been betrayed, yet cannot let go

Ash rains, dynamite flashes, and tongues lash
For a brotherhood that fell to calamity
But it can no longer be, for the sword's clash
Pits traitor against traitor; archetypal of their family

There was another brother once, who rose from the ashes and soot
From freedom to hubris to self-destructive bloodshed
The ground turns to dust and the boy follows suit
Willing to face the consequences of the dead

The boar against the boy is not a new sight
If one wants to be a hero, than one must sacrifice
Tales of gilded light are diminished by the plight
The boar demands blood; the boy demands light

But they both forget of softer days
Of crackling fires or the depths of a hideout
Or when snow drifted down in an arctic-tinged haze
When the extent of their fighting was a sparring bout

They stand in solidarity as the war rages ‘round
The swoop of black wings or the green of a smile
The cacophony deafens but still there’s no sound
From a blue-coated ghost or a president child

The war will not end until they are through
The boar and the boy and the grudges they sow
But finally on zephyrs will peace have flew
And never again to fight, they will vow

poem 2 - shouting at the walls

My fingers crack on cold concrete, throat rubbed raw from screamed profanity
This melody is my only weaponry against the barrage of insanity
I could sing about my failures, about the fall of my humanity
But all that I can hear is the futility of this inanity

A train dropped me off here, never to return
A liminal cell of self-isolation, with there's no cause for concern
Perhaps I've been sent to my own private hell to find a lesson to learn
Alas, change isn't my strong suit and reform I spurn

Do I want to remember the smell of the smoke?
Cigarette butts and dynamite ashes on which they would choke?
I walk past to see the look in his eyes as fear by my presence invoke
I think it's best to forget and block own, and pray that my mind builds a cloak

This is not an ode to my nation
Or anyone not with me in damnation
But this is a message to myself and my frustration
Alone in this liminal train station

(346+553+407+161+1033=2500 I WROTE EXACTLY 2.5k!) WEEKLY 2
(+346 words) comment story with @figurative_wings

(+91) Aurum's hands shook as he looked at the massive machine hulking in front of him. Clenching his fists to hide his fear, he nodded quickly as his boss talked. “So, you'll just be doing a few routine repairs - I know it's not the most exciting thing in the world, but hey, we've all got to do a little menial work every once in a while.” The manager smiled like he was trying to be relatable or funny, but all Aurum could do was try not to throw up out of nerves.

(@figurative_wings writing) Breathe, he told himself, like that was supposed to help– he was already doing /that/ more than quickly enough. “Uh, s-sir, just to be certain… there's no one around who might be more… qualified to do this?” His boss gave a booming, dizzying laugh. “Don't be so modest! You've helped out the engineers, right?” Aurum had to nod, but his mind was still screaming: Not since my apprenticeship! Not since I changed tracks! /Definitely/ not since I've known what they were actually making!

(+89) “Then you should be fine,” the man said, waving a hand dismissively to Aurum's blank, terror-filled stare. “As long as you don't accidentally bring it to life again - we had to haul a few bodies out of the Processing and Tagging department last week; some idiot animated the mechanics again!” Aurum gave what was an attempt at a laugh, but came out more as a shrill grimace. “Of course, sir,” he said. Turning to the machine, he gulped. What were the odds that he survived this without being fired?

(@figurative_wings writing) “Right! You know all of this– I'm just holding you back.” The manager waved a hand at a steel rack beside the machine. “Don't forget your safety harness!” He turned away, smirking over his shoulder. “But of course, you know that too.” Aurum pulled his eyes away from the machine, where copper wires branched over the surface like veins. “Safety” harnesses sat sprawled across the rack, but despite the cogs and wires that covered each one he'd never seen a way to actually tether one to anything.

(+103) “Of course, sir,” Aurum began, but the man was already leaving, whistling a jaunty tune with his hands in his pockets. He looked around to the other workers, praying that he'd be able to glimpse one of them stepping into their own harnesses, but alas - they were already working. With an experimental tug he managed to pull his on, but where was it supposed to go? Onto the machine? Laying an experimental hand on the surface, he yelped and jumped back. The surface was warm, as if he was touching human flesh, or an animal's fur - but no, this was definitely metal. Right?

(@figurative_wings writing) The shining surface almost seemed to respond, letting out a wheeze that sounded too much like a sigh of exasperation. The harness clattered as Aurum fidgeted– if the machine really was alive, couldn't it tighten its own loose screws? Not that he'd ever question it aloud, even on the days when getting fired seemed like his better option. Today, though, reality overpowered even his fear– he had to keep this job. There was no other reason to stand here with no experience or tools instead of running away

(+63) “Hi?” he whispered quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of any of the other workers. He might as well be fired for insanity if they saw him /talking/ to the machine. “Uh - I'm Aurum. I just have to do a routine check on you, so if you could… not kill me? That would actually be very fantastic? Thank you, mister… mister machine.”

(+553) weekly part 1:
Name: Lyra
Age: 22
Gender: Cis female
Species: Siren (like the killer mermaid type things)
(+215) Personality and Traits: Lyra is a romantic. While her siblings and society believe that their captives are a means to an end - most clearly, a means to sucking the soul out of a few poor mortals - she believes in the tales of yore, in which true love was found in the most unlikely of places. However, while she is overly idealistic and could potentially be taken as naive, she could also kill a man without hesitation, and would do so in the right scenario. She gets easily attached to small things and therefore tends to cling tightly onto what she deems ‘acceptable’ in her version of a perfect life. Lyra is a perfectionist and can be overprotective, high-strung, and generally has a hard time taking things as ‘fun’ or ‘lighthearted’. She is prone to overplanning or even going as far as to fabricate and extensively force her own life or relationships to be perfect, ignoring the organic parts of life that make it fun. She’s one of those people who is okay to ‘go with the flow,’ as long as they are able to get out of the flow and leave the river at any point in the journey. She is also nosy, but has the best intentions and genuinely believes the best in humanity and other characters.
(+207) Wants, Hopes, Strengths: Lyra wants love, or a real relationship. She wants to have the perfect life, sometimes to unattainable standards, and she finds it difficult to comprehend the idea of not working towards a perfect life. She likes to have control of a narrative and generally believes herself to be the ‘main character’, for better or for worse. She’s always hoped to find ‘the one’ and has very high standards because she believes in true love - if it’s not perfect, then there’s got to be someone else out there for her. This makes her picky, hard to interact with, but endearing in some ways. She is very creative and affectionate, quickly brightening a crowd and easy to talk to. She’s also rather interesting and never dull, despite her clingy tendencies. She’ll always have a friend’s back - sometimes to an extreme extent - but she can be very dramatic. Lyra is also an extremely strong swimmer. She is charismatic and easy to like at first, although she can be overbearing if you are close friends with her. Despite her flaws, she would never intentionally hurt someone else and she would never want to be any sort of villain. She has a strong moral code and believes in ‘doing the right thing.’
(+121) Dislikes and Fears: She is endlessly scared of being lonely, and she believes that he might never find a real deep connection. Lyra yearns for an overly romanticized way of life that - to be completely honest - isn’t really realistic or feasible. This can lead to pickiness and naivety when it comes to interactions with others. She has perfectionistic tendencies and will panic if she makes a plan and things go wrong, which they so often do. She very rarely ‘lets her hair down’ and lets herself be reckless and have fun, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but can get in the way of human interactions. She is always striving for perfection and tends to overwork herself in her search for love and affection.

weekly part 2:
(+407) Setting: (written in second person because…yeah idk just bear with me) You’re sitting on a train. It hasn’t begun to move yet, but the doors have closed, so you know you’ve got to be somewhere in that liminal space between movement and stopping. It's noon - 11:57, to be precise - but if you went outside, you wouldn't know it with the heavy coating of clouds, just waiting to block out any shred of sunlight that could try and squeeze through. Even from your seat, you can see water pattering against the tracks ahead of you; the ones that are uncovered by the train station. The seat you're sitting on is made of cheap leather - not uncomfortable in the slightest, but it's burnished from years and years of wear and tear, the bright red faded into a .dull maroon that's trying much too hard to be unique. That's the thing with public transportation - it ages quickly and noticeably. Luckily, despite the people on the train every single day, this car smells fairly pleasant. There's the faint aroma of Windex, presumably from wiping down the car to keep it germ-free, but that's completely tolerable. The person behind you has a tiny bit of perfume on, but again - completely fine, with how bad it could have been. The seat next to you is empty, but probably not for long - there are still the murmurs of people hurrying through the cars, trying to snag a seat before they have to grab a place at the very back or very front. Even right now, a woman races past you, her ten-year-old child in hand. No one is saying much - probably because most people here work, and most workers travel alone - so it's relatively quiet despite the amount of people. There's a crowd on the train today; seeing as it's a Friday - plenty of people are returning home from work, having gotten off slightly early. It's almost cold enough for it to snow, and what a fun time that would be - snow, just around the holiday season - but alas, it's just the pitter-patter of the rain. The inside of the train car is warm enough to be slightly uncomfortable - people around you seem unsure as to whether they should take their jacket off or not - but you can deal with it. A voice crackles over the intercom as the clock ticks closer to perfect noon, and you lean back in your seat.

weekly part 3:
(+161) Premise:
Your character finds themselves in a place that they go every day - it should be common for them to be here, right? However, there’s something slightly off about everything they find happening around them. The people seem a little distant, no one will tell them what time it is, and even the colors and lights in this place seem a little too bright. Maybe they’re dreaming? But no; they pinch themselves and it’s entirely real. After a little digging, they find out that this is a virtual reality program that they’ve been signed up to test out. Only problem? They have absolutely no idea how to get out, and there seems to be a glitch in the program. Will they triumph over the world around them and return to their regular life? Or will they be forced to live inside the game forever? Only time will tell. Time, and the wits and creativity of your character in this new, augmented reality!

weekly part 4:
https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31244944/comments/#comments-178069767 character claim
https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31244947/comments/#comments-178228215 setting claim
https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31244949/comments/#comments-178125590 premise claim
(+1033) Story:
Theodora strode across a bridge, pulling her hair back into a practical bun. This was her walk to school everyday, and while she usually let herself gaze out at the clouds below the connection between the floating islands, today was a Sunday - and she had a purpose. No more school for her. Letting herself give one longing glance to the pristine arches, she shook her head with a steely resolve - she was going to register for the draft today.
It was a daunting task; leaving her peaceful abode and its baby-blue walls and venturing out into the world. But it was a necessary evil - even if she didn't care about restoring peace to the nation (which she absolutely, one hundred and ten percent, did) it was only a matter of time before their resources back home ran out, and she was left with nothing. Food supplies had been thinning, and with the approach of winter, soon would come the long, dreary months of being stranded on her own little home island, with nothing but a few familiar neighbors for company. That wasn't her dream; that wasn't what she wanted.
Her alternative was registering for the war, going out and laying down herself in order to restore peace to the nation. It was honorable, helpful, led towards a better outcome - she couldn't think of anything better. Of course, there was her roommate to think about, and her cat, but while she'd miss both of them terribly, she had a chance here. And Theodora didn't consider herself someone stupid enough to miss chances.
Finally across the massive bridge and over to the center island, the line at the draft office was short this time of day - or perhaps it was short in general. Nothing was mandatory yet, and people didn't tend to want to register themselves to go leave their home and fight in a war. That was her quarrel with many people on this island - they had no dreams, no ambitions, not even the drive to go do something good. Standing pertly in the door that opened with a small ding and closed with the rush of fall-speckled wind, she gave the person behind the desk a strained grin.
“Hello, officer,” she greeted, sticking out a hand for him to shake.
“Hello, miss. May I ask what you're doing here?” It was clear that he hadn't gotten much activity as of late, which didn't surprise Theodora. Everyone talked about how they didn't want to register, especially here in her backwater, archaic town.
“I'm here to register,” she explained.
His face was entirely blank, prompting her to either continue explaining or to just let him stand there like an idiotic goldfish.
“For the war? Y'know, the one that's going to drain all of our resources in the next few months?”
“Oh, yeah - you're here with your husband's papers, then?”
“What? No!” she snapped, her frustration finally bubbling up to somewhere near the surface. “I'm here to register myself, like a legitimate human being!”
“We're not takin' woman, this draft. It's too soon for your kind to get into the crossfire, miss.” The officer scratched his head as he spoke, letting out a philosophical shrug.
“/What?/” Theodora hissed incredulously.
“Sorry, miss, I don't make the rules. But you don't look too fit for war either - ”
“I could beat you up right now to show you just how fit I am.”
“Miss, that's a threat. I'm going to have to kick you out of this building; I'm very sorry. Now please, go home.”
Theodora didn't say a word as she stomped out, slamming the door shut breathlessly behind her.
- - - -
Five minutes later, she held up a lock of luscious brown hair, all those days of scrubbing lotion into it and working the knots out in the shower, just to keep it perfectly up. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled the scissors closed.
Snip.
Snip.
Snip.
It was easier once she started, and by the end - well, it looked awful, but she looked like a boy. Purchasing an inconspicuous pair of slacks and a white shirt, she pulled them on quickly - and then replaced her flats with sturdy working boots. Her final purchase was a small cap, just to hide her features. She'd never looked necessarily very feminine, so hopefully she'd be able to pass a glancing inspection.
Once satisfied with her efforts, she had to stop and decide where to go. She couldn't travel back to the registration office in her own town; that would be much too suspicious, especially since hardly anyone was registering. So, with one last look at her home, she pulling out a pen and a piece of manila paper.
'Dear Harley,
I'm very, very sorry to do this to you. Remember that I love you and I love Molly and I'm not intending to be gone for all that long - just until I get some things done. There's an opportunity that I can't tell you about and just can't miss. I'll send checks, once I get a permeant place to stay, and I'll try to send letters, but I can't promise that'll happen.
Remember to feed Molly.
Love you,
Theodora.'
That was the last time she would use that name for quite a while.
Pausing again she headed for the airships and booked a one-way ticket to the biggest cluster of islands she knew of.
- - -
The city was massive, with all sorts of islands and mini-islands and covered bridges and adornments hanging from the tall spires of the skyscrapers - which was a bit of a misnomer, seeing as they were already well into the sky - that sent light glimmering over the city below. For someone, it might be overwhelming, but for Theodora, she just liked it. Plenty of people, plenty of places to explore - there was so much opportunity waiting here, and she couldn't wait to figure out where she was whisked.
Making her way through well-lit streets and over high-tech bridges, Theodora got into line - thank god there was a line this time - for registration here.
When she got to the front, she gave the officer an approving stare.
“I assume you're here to register?”
“Of course. My name is Theo.”

(+1014) cabin wars:
“What are you doing?” Lux asked, leaning over the gas pump and shielding his eyes from the bright desert sunlight piercing the air. He might be able to control light, but that didn't mean it didn't bother him.
“Checking that the tags on this car aren't expired.” Rev looked up, the sun hitting his pale features. He looked decidedly out of place here - in the middle of a desert, stealing a beat-up bright teal pickup truck from a gas station of all places. Lux would have made a joke about getting sunburnt, but since Reverie could literally bend shadows around his very being, perhaps it wouldn't go over all that well.
Instead, he tapped his foot impatiently, glancing to the horizon. The highway stretched far into the distance, but it was empty - for now. Either of their families could arrive at any moment, though, so time was of the essence. “Why?”
“So I don't get pulled over, idiot. I don't have a driver's license, and you're a little social recluse so I doubt you have one either - ”
Lux cut in petulantly, crossing his arms. “Hey! I've been taught how to drive the sun across the sky. For, y'know, that one time when my parents were going to trap me into being the carrier of the sun until my death.”
“Oh, boo-hoo for you, you have to be the new sun god in a few years - does the sun have a stick shift?” Rev demanded. Lux wasn't an expert at reading tone, seeing as he avoided people at all costs, but he didn't sound too genuinely malicious, although slightly dismissive.
“No,” Lux admitted grudgingly, picturing the inside of the sun. “It's automatic.”
“I thought so. In that case, you're not driving and we're not getting pulled over.”
Lux opened his mouth to argue.
“And that's final!”
“Fine. If you're driving, I get aux.”
“You get - hell no, you live in a library. You're going to play some classical tunes in our brand new pickup truck - ”
“Stolen. Our brand new stolen pickup truck.”
“Our brand new stolen pickup truck, and it's going to be boring, and since we're driving across basically the whole of the Southern United States, then I'm going to end up falling asleep out of boredom and crashing our car. With you in it.”
Lux rolled his eyes, like he was still a petulant teenager figuring out a sharp retort to this . Probably because Rev was acting like a child, which brought Lux's mental age down by quite a few years. “Okay, first off, no classical music slander. I don't listen to it, but that doesn't mean it can't be good. And second of all, you're an idiot and I prefer early 2000s indie pop or rock, if that makes you feel any better.”
Rev eyed him warily, finished his tag check and rising up to stand slowly. “Maybe you can have aux. I reserve the right to take it back if I hate the music enough to want to crash the car, though. Got it?”
Lux stepped up into the passenger seat, grabbing Reverie's phone and cueing up a long list of bops.
- - - -
“So. Who the hell are you?” An hour has passed with hardly a single word from either of them. Lux was bursting with curiosity - the shadowy boy clearly knew much more about Lux than Lux knew about him - and honestly couldn't hold it in against the silence for any longer.
“Eve's youngest cousin,” Rev answered simply. “Reverie. It means dream, if you're wondering how it relates to the whole ‘prince of night and shadows’ thing.”
“Reverie,” Lux mused, tasting the name on his tongue. It was a nice name - not that Lux thought that anything about Reverie was nice. “I know what it means; I took French for six years. How come I've never heard of you?”
“I don't think anyone wanted to give you any ideas,” Rev cracked a smile. Lux didn't see what was so funny.
“The hell does that mean?” he demanded.
“They - my parents - managed to hide my existence from… your kind… for most of my life. They don't know I exist, which is fantastic for my purposes. I occasionally show up at parties and other functions - for the food, y'know - but I'm not supposed to exist on paper. I disappeared long ago, as a safeguard. A last resort, if Eve and Nova and Orion all end up killed by your kind.”
“That shouldn't be possible.”
“It shouldn't have been possible for you to run away and live in anonymity for three years, yet here we are.”
“Touché,” Lux conceded grudgingly. “It must be lonely, living without your family.”
“Shut up.” There was much more vigor to the words than Lux had excepted. “I'm fine. I had - and have - friends. And I go see people all the time.”
“Talking to people isn't the same as having friends, I don't think.”
“Isn't your whole schtick that you live in a library and don't talk to anyone ever because you ran away from your family and can't get close to anyone for angst purposes?”
Lux leaned back in his chair, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. However, Reverie didn't see, because he was trying very harm not to crash the pickup on the perfectly straight, empty road. No one ever said he was a good driver, just that he could drive. “I live in a bookstore, not a library. And I'm perfectly happy on my own, with my books, and you should shut up before you say something you regret.”
There was a beat of silence in which Lux looked away, not wanting to meet Reverie's eyes after that sentence. Finally, the other boy finished the conversation.
“I'd say the same to you. Now skip this song, I don't like it.”
The next three hours passed in silence, except for the tinny rattle of music playing from the crappy speakers of the beat-up pickup truck.

cabin wars pt 2:
(+547) Millenia ago, the sun and the moon had a fight.
That's the way your story has always started. You don't know if it's true, but you wouldn't put it past your ancestors to have a silly little squabble leading to an all-out war for all eternity.
This is what you've always been told: It all began when the sun thought that he was more important than the moon, and the moon thought she was more important than the sun. A typical quarrel, for two beings, but they did fight. And some days, the sun wanted to catch the moon on their trip around the sky, and so the sun would go extra fast. This made the gods very angry, as the sun was messing up the human lifestyle and making the days way too short. So, he cursed the sun - and the moon - and turned them into mortals. As long as their line prevailed, someone with the blood of the sun would drive it across the sky - tied to be the carrier of this weight and the sustainer of the fight, forever and ever until they died and were replaced. And it was the same thing with the moon - every generation, someone different was tied to holding up the everlasting power of the moon.
Each side tried to sabotage each other, of course. There were tales of entire wars started just to get at one of the sun's descendants, waged by moon descendants, or the other way around. But for years and years, the sun had managed to keep the moon at bay, and a sense of equilibrium had been reached.
You don't know if any of this is true, but you do know that you sure are supposed to be driving the sun after your sixteenth birthday, and you definitely don't want to be doing that
So you run, one day, and you run away from everything that you've ever known to some little town just west of Boston. You start by establishing a small bookstore, and then you make yourself the self-proclaimed town recluse. It's a beautiful little store, with off-white ivory railings, and nothing at all that could represent the sun. It rains all the time in this town too, which is perfect - you don't even have to think about your family. It’s be one floor, but there’s a staircase that goes up to your room. The place itself is a little bit of a mishmash of cozy pillows and armchairs, with antique cases for the books. However, everything is very functional and well-thought out and a lot of care has been put into this place. There are little details everywhere in the store, and there’s a lot of old details on the walls and stuff. It’s a little antiqued, but still has a good stock of books. You somehow have convinced everyone that the store has been here for ages, and that you're the great-nephew of a very old woman who used to live in this town.
You're happy here, which is the biggest surprise of all. You like it, and you don't want to go anywhere, and you'll sell your soul before you let someone drag you away from this perfect safehouse that you've built for yourself.

cabin wars pt 3:
(+1009) This wasn’t the first time Ace had killed someone, but it was the first time they had been asleep when he did. He supposed that he should probably feel vaguely guilty, and he did—kind of—but he was mostly relieved. It was easy to kill; easier than most people wanted you to think. After all, Death came whenever she was supposed to. Ace was only the messenger.
With a sigh of relief to siphon the ebbing adrenaline, he drew the covers up and pulled the knife out. A flash of annoyance crossed the sharp planes of his face, silhouetted in the moonlight as he looked down at his shirt.
Wearing white to a murder was not the most practical of ideas, but it was dramatic. With his white-blond hair and ridiculously pale skin, Aceon could have been a ghost, if ghosts murdered teenage boys in the middle of the night. Of course, the effect would have been better if he hadn’t been splattered with crimson blood. Ghosts didn’t get messy.
“Alas, I am but a mere mortal.” He muttered under his breath, and then immediately regretted it. Ian and his ridiculous quotes must have been rubbing off on him. With a final disgruntled noise, he used his already ruined shirt to clean the blood off of the knife.
A knife. Such a mortal weapon, so mundane. If anyone knew that he was killing people—not likely, except for his parents, but they sent him here—then he would probably be mocked for not using the grand powers of creation gifted to him by the magical epic muses that seemed to govern his life, he thought, rolling his eyes. Creation may be sacred, and he did pity the artists who actually cared, but power would always rule over men’s thoughts. Gods and magic were just excuses for someone to climb higher. And Ace had almost—almost—reached the pinnacle of power. Soon it wouldn’t be Prince Aceon, but Heir Aceon.
Enough fantasizing, he scolded himself, snapping back to reality. Climbing out the window, his pale silhouette blended in perfectly to the white marble of the massive castle, illuminated only by the silvery moonbeams. It was easy for him to slip across the towers, off to find his final victim.
FLASHBACK TO HIS PARENTS TELLING HIM TO KILL PEOPLE.
His parents had been giving him jobs for a while now. And even though being around his parents was like walking on eggshells, he needed their approval, for now. They were the ones that could get him where he wanted to be. That was it.
At first, it was just little things—make sure this door is unlocked, forge this noble’s signature. (Ace had an innate talent for forgery. He decided to count that as a good thing). The first tasks were unsavory, but he didn't dislike them, and it was nothing that could ruin his life. Then, they started to get worse. Physically scarring people, sleeping his way into official’s offices—that was probably the worst. It wasn’t that he disliked it, but it didn’t really do anything for him, and it turned into a boast—oh yes, I’ve slept with him—or an insult. *. And while he wouldn’t mind it, the lack of control was more than annoying and he sure as hell wasn’t attracted to any of the people his parents picked out.
By then, it was almost a relief when his parents gave the first kill order. The idea of killing itself had never bothered him. It was natural. It was balance. Birth and death. An uneasy thought had shoved itself into his brain, but he pushed it away immediately. Death. Death was fine. They had given him a pencil, but also said that if he didn’t feel like using the power, then a knife was fine.
Little did they know that even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t. His power didn’t lie in the literary arts, and for that—that was the only thing that could keep him from his goal. He used the knife. There was a lot of blood. It took multiple wounds. He was fine with it. The first kill was the hardest, but once he crossed that line, he was fine.
Aceon got better. Perhaps his talents didn’t lay in the literary, visual, or performance arts at all, but in the art of killing. Though he yearned to know why he was killing these people—and fine, he did snoop to figure it out, but most of it was just political nonsense—his parents wouldn't tell him. Not until he was the heir.
Then, last night, he had gotten his last assignment. The approaching of Winter MEETING was echoed in the anticipation in the crisp air, and he had been wondering what was going to happen. Everyone knew that Ace was the golden son, the boy primed to take his mother’s place as the leader of the Guild of Histories. And everyone knew that there were three families—his included—that still needed to name their heirs at this Winter MEETING. Otherwise, they’d be put back an entire year until the next MEETING.
A familiar drawling voice tugged him back to the present as he blinked. This was a night with a lot of memories, apparently. It did seem only fitting, since once he killed Lark—the only likely contender for the Heir of Music—his new life would begin. Everything he wanted, all in reach. He just had to not screw this up. “You’ve got blood on your shirt.”
Ace rolled his eyes. “Any other observations that you need to share?” He asked the figure next to him.
His brother shrugged. “It’s going to rain soon.”
“How do you know?”
“Magic.” When Ace glared, he rolled his eyes and corrected himself. “There are clouds in the sky. And it’s smelled like rain all day.”
Ace took a deep waft of the cool night air. It did, he admitted. “One more.” He said softly, almost to himself. Ian didn’t respond.

March 10th Main Cabin Daily
Todays daily was to rewrite a story in your least favorite genre. I chose to rewrite the kids book, Don’t Let The Pigeon Stay Up Late by Mo Williams. It’s honestly a hilarious book, but I rewrote it as horror. I figured it’d be a crack fic, but I low key kinda love it xD
Word Count: 555

You warily enter a building. It seems like a normal enough building, but time has taught you that things are seldom as they appear. You wouldn’t even dare enter it, but night is beginning to fall, and you don’t dare stay out past dark. Only a fool would risk that. Here’s hoping this building is safer…
“H-hello?” You ask, looking around. A gust of wind slams the door shut, causing you to jump. You try the handle, just to be sure it unlocked.
It isn’t.
Dang.
“Hello?” You call out again. “Is anyone there?
The floor creaks and you spin around to see who’s coming. It’s a middle aged man with pale, waxy skin and dark rings under his eyes. He’s wearing a tattered bathrobe and nightcap. If he wasn’t so haggard, you’d think he was your bus driver…
“Good,” he rasps. “It’s you…”
A chill runs up your spin. How does he know who you are?
“Listen…” he continues. “I need to brush my teeth… don’t let the pigeon stay up late…”
“Wait, what? What pigeon? Who are you? What do you-“
But the man is already receding back into the shadows. “Don’t let the pigeon… stay up late…”
What pigeon? And why couldn’t he stay up late?
Just as you decide the poor man was simply senile, a pigeon slowly descends down the staircase.
Every footstep the pigeon takes echos through the building, causing you to automatically back up. It’s not like any pigeon you’ve ever seen; it’s eyes are vivid red, with circles under its eyes even darker than the man’s. You never realized just how intimidating a small bird could be before this.
“How about a hotdog party?” It asks. It’s such a strange suggestion you could laugh, if it hadn’t been said so threateningly.
“Or,” it says. “I heard there’s a great show on about birds tonight. It should be very… educational.”
You try the door again, hoping you might get lucky. It is, of course, still locked.
“No,” you say to the pigeon, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. “You can’t stay up late.”
“How about five more minute?” It asks. “What are five minutes in the grand scheme of things?” Then it yawns.
Apparently noticing that you saw it yawn, it glares. “I’m one hundred percent awake!” It’s eyes flash. That’s it. This is beyond freaky. You turn away from the door and run down the hall. The pigeon, unfortunately, follows you.
“Tell me about your day!”
“No!” You shout, not daring to look over your shoulder.
“My bunny wants to stay up too! You can’t say no to bunny, can you?”
This time, you turn back. What you see horrifies you. A giant, green fabric bunny is now stomping along beside the pigeon. You can’t hold back a shriek as you turn back around, running as fast as you can.
The pigeon yawns. That should be a simple enough thing, but the sound is loud enough to make your ears ring. Distracted, you trip, crashing to the ground.
You manage to turn your head and see that the pigeon and bunny have both caught up with you. You struggle to get up, but you can’t seem to. Their eyes flash red.
An ominous voice rings throughout the building. “You let the pigeon stay up late…”

Daily For Dystopian

Thank you to Ash, @TandiaTES, who was also one of my leaders last session I had an idea for a piece like this, and then I saw their amazing leader application and thought I could write something similar for the daily. I'd like to call it a darker version of what you wrote, Ash, with the whole exiled from humanity and essence of evil concept, but I'm not sure what to call it.
Please drop Ash a follow as well ^^

They cannot see me, or so it seems. Their actions do not affect me as long as I keep to the shadows. I could keep on running forever, and they’d never notice, not even if I kept hidden under the tips of their noses. I am non-existent, unnoticeable, immune to their touch. They left me here, and have forgotten about me, thought I suppose it was for everyone's own good. I know it's not their fault. It can't be. Leaving me here was the right decision, I am too dangerous to mingle amongst humanity. Besides, they never asked for me to be like this.

But would they recognise me, if it ever came to that? Could they see me, see the human remains within me, and remember me?

I am an essence of evil, destruction, and mischief. I am an outcast of society, feared for what I am capable of. Though they tended to exaggerate my abilities. I can fade into shadows, disappear completely with nothing more than a half thought. But never, never would I spread such terror and destruction amongst the humankind. That was the intention of those that have come before me. I vowed off such things long ago. But it's what people are capable of with only a little fear pushing them forward which saddens me.

But again, I admit that I cannot blame them for that part. A little bit of me is furious at their actions, that they over-exaggerated the whole thing, but I tend to keep that bit of me quiet, locked up in the dark just like I am. I am pure darkness on the inside, and on the outside, you can't even see. Though I suppose that's the point of invisibility.

But sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to stay visible, with never anywhere to hide. What would it be like to lack such immunity to danger, to be that vulnerable? But I cannot remember ever knowing otherwise, never known what it would be like to have no veil, of which is not even visible to myself, to hide you.

But with the gift of invisibility, I know I will never be able to see any such beauty in this world. Even just knowing of what you can do gives you the constant need to hide from everything, to isolate yourself, never be able to free yourself.

Outcast. Feared. Destruction. Invisible.

Weekly 2

Part 1
unfinished

Part 2

Name: Luma
Age:10
Specie: Human-sort-of.

Personality and Traits: Luma is a weird person. She is a mushroom girl. And she looks like that: Orange-brown hair
Wants, Hopes, and Strengths: 200 words
Dislikes and Fears: 100 words

ʚ Betrayal ɞ
509 words
go back to my main post
James stared at Luna all day. She would draw with her crayons at her star-shaped table and make the most unique drawings of odd shaped rainbows and unicorns. She was his first crush. Ever. Even though they were in preschool, he thought that he would marry her one day. One day, Luna gave James a drawing of her. He imagined his eyes turning into hearts. He couldn't believe it! He was so amazed at the drawing. He knew she would be the next Frida Kahlo, even if the hair was only a few strands and the skin was blue. He stared at the drawing for hours, and thought he would stare at it forever. He thought he knew Luna was the love of his life. Luna enjoyed the attention, but thought that he wasn't good enough for her. She took him for granted, along with the stares and attention he gave her. Little did she know, Nova showed up the next day. James was awe struck. He dropped all thoughts about Luna. He quickly decided that Luna was never going to like him and that Nova was better anyway. Nova smiled and waved at him. “I'm Nova,” She said, and he introduced himself too, “I'm James!” They sat together at a circle shaped table and made colorful drawings with their crayons. He definitely thought he was a better artist around her; his drawing looked amazing! So did her's. She and him showed the teacher their drawings and the teacher exclaimed at how beautiful they were! She took pictures of them and told them how proud she was. Luna was still at her star shaped table and had not moved her hand, holding a crayon, since Nova had walked in. She was still trying to wrap her head around and understand what had just unfolded right in front of her eyes. James was gone. Stolen, according to Luna. Emotion seeped into her quicker than light! James was a traitor! She was infuriated at him. She crumpled the crayon in her hand and felt like steam was blowing out her ears. He left her, hanging out with Nova on purpose to make her jealous. He left her after all the time she felt special because he liked her, and even after she handed him a self portrait of herself, that she was sure was a masterpiece! She knew forgiveness was not possible for James. The teacher dismissed everyone as the bell rang for the end of school. When she went home, she went right upstairs and straight to her room running. She plotted how she was going to murder James. She drew out her entire plan with different colored crayons. The new box her parents had just bought her for her birthday. She was even more infuriated that he had betrayed her on her birthday. That fueled her to work harder, and make an even better plan. She finally finished her plan. She looked it over, and nodded with satisfaction. It had a few spelling errors but she didn't notice.

March 9th Daily
1145 words

I’m taking the concept of “modernizing/futurizing fairy tales” from The Lunar Chronicles and I plan to apply it to “Goldilocks”, which is the work of literature I’m editing. And I also have to write in horror. This should be fun, heh.

She had been lost in the forest for days. Her ears were ringing with the eerie tunes of the branches waving and birds singing their evening songs. She was starving, gaunt and exhausted. Her golden locks had become matted and humid, fluffing up at random places and sticking to her soiled face. Aura wanted nothing more than to lie down and put to rest her soul, but she kept going out of some desperate hope left over in her mind.

Finally, she stumbled upon a lonely mansion, deep in the forest. Vines were growing over its tattered stairs and pillars, and the air seemed to get colder every step she took toward it. Clutching her arms to her chest, grimly aware of the calluses and blisters on her bare feet. Finally, she stepped up onto the porch, jumping at every creak. She knocked, squaring her shoulders. There was no response. Aura frowned, but figured it was abandoned anyway.

She turned the doorknob easily, and shadows seemed to follow her as she hesitantly stepped into the unlit hallway. She shuddered, deciding to leave the door open behind her. A gust of wind blew in. Aura didn’t want to fumble in the dark for a light switch and was pondering over whether to venture further when suddenly the lights all turned on of their own accord, illuminating the long hallway. She was given quite a shock, but she felt slightly more affirmed with the light available to her.

Her stomach roared. Aura figured that she had better find something to eat before it was too late. The ever-present empty agony of hunger would drive her insane sooner than this abandoned mansion.

She peered into the nearest room, from which a musty smell of oats was emanating. She was surprised to discover that a tablemat had been placed over the long table and three bowls of a mushy golden substance were placed next to each other. Aura tentatively lifted a silver spoon from its place on the table and dipped it into the food. She was surprised to see steam rising from it – freshly prepared? She felt slightly unnerved at the idea. The pristine bowls and clean silverware were in stark contrast to the layers of dust building on the tablecloth, which added to her suspicion. But she put all this aside and dug in upon another rumble of protest from her stomach.

The moment it touched her tongue, she yelped and dropped the spoon. The burning hot substance splattered everywhere. It had been immensely hot. Mourning her burned tastebuds, she moved to the next bowl, hoping for something perhaps more edible. But upon seeing a thin transparent layer on the surface of the golden oats, she became slightly suspicious and pressed a finger to the bowl. Ice cold. She pulled her finger back, rubbing it on her lip.

Holding out for her last hope of survival, she approached the third and final bowl, taking the spoon and dipping it into the bowl. She brought out a spoon of the yellow mush and slid it onto her tongue.

Just right.

Aura ate ravenously, finishing off the contents of the third bowl without even giving herself time to breathe.

After she gave herself time to let the sustenance flow through every curve and corner of her body, she found an underlying ache in her legs, a plea for somewhere – anywhere – to rest. She inhaled deeply as she progressed through the next few rooms in search of a chair. The lights flickered on after a moment in each of them, making her wonder what kind of technology had been used to build the system of the mansion and why it still worked so well.

Finally, she came upon three rocking chairs, positioned next to each other and with varying degrees of sizes, as if for an ancient family of three. She sat in the first and spread out her arms, but the armrests were too far out. She sat in the second, but it seemed there was an unwelcoming presence in the air around it, and she was so unnerved by the instinctual feeling that she stood up immediately. She then sat in the third and closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of rest, one which she hadn’t had for so long. She breathed in deeply and leaned back. Suddenly, she felt the tap of two fingers on her back. She spun around in the chair, looking for the source, but there was no one there. She frowned and repositioned herself, closing her eyes again.

Then the chair broke out from under her. She caught her balance at the last moment, right before her back could have been speared by a leg of the chair. Aura’s heart pounded thoroughly as she warily stood up, cursing herself for trusting the durability of such old furniture. And yet, the chairs had no dust on them, unlike every other item in the house. She shook her head as if to rid herself of suspicion and cautiously scaled the staircase to the second floor, where, after a great degree of searching, she found a bedroom.

Again, there stood three beds, one after the other. The ache in her legs was stronger than ever, and the exhaustion clouded her brain. She could not stand it any longer; she collapsed onto the nearest bed. It was like falling onto a slab of stone. Shocked awake by how hard the bed was, she forced herself to stand and move to the next one. But that one caused her to nearly disappear under the covers – it was far too soft, the wooden frame must have deteriorated severely.

Aura moved to the last and final bed, and, having no issue with it, fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She dreamt of a family she had never seen before. A middle-aged man, staring at her severely with his glasses pointed downward and a perfectly trimmed mustache, a woman with her hair in a bun and a perpetually disappointed expression, and a child holding a stuffed bear. The child stared at her with her wide blank eyes framed by long pale strands of hair, clutching the bear tightly. Aura’s rest was uneasy, and she woke up with a severe headache, her clothes damp with sweat.

She hid under the covers for some time before she finally dared to peer out from under them. Stepping out of the bed carefully, she looked around. She. . . sensed something. She felt more unwelcome than ever.

And then she saw the child.

A blue, ghostly child, with wide, blank eyes that stared up at her with that perfect childlike innocence.

She screamed and fled the mansion. Somehow in her panic, she found her way back to her village and the security of home. Aura never entered the forest again.

daily 3/10/22 - 601 words
historical fiction, based off a poem from Runny Babbit by Shel Silverstein

Runny Babbit trekked across the vast fields of his family's farm, waving to his two neighbors, General George Washington and General Weorge gashington, who both provided incredible aid to the colonies during the war. Eleven year old Runny, however, unlike his neighbors, had no interest in fighting in a war. Instead, he preferred to spend his time reading or exploring the nearby nature. He loved to pretend that he was a lone naturalist exploring different exotic jungles, although he didn't particularly care about the well-being of said nature during his games, meaning he often harmed the plants, both intentionally and unintentionally. Today, he planned to sneak into Weorge Gashington's prized orchard of cherry trees when he played his game.

Runny crept silently along, past Weorge's farmhouse, where all the animals lived, and further, past more fields, until he arrived at the orchard. He cast a furtive glance around, even though he knew that Weorge had already left to fight in another battle for independence. Still, it couldn't hurt to be cautious. He snuck stealthily forward, into the orchard, where he played his game for a while. While playing, he accidentally pressed strangely on the bark of a tree, and, to his surprise, it gave way to a secret trapdoor, which opened slowly. Eventually, the door sprung open, revealing a hole in the ground, which was full of weapons, almost enough to power an entire army!

Runny gazed at the weapons in awe, and a gleam of silver caught his eye as he did so. Runny bent closer, staring at the item, which, upon further inspection, appeared to be an axe. Runny looked around again guiltily, then bent over, picking up the axe. He ra his hand along the smooth wood. The axe seemed to be a perfect fit for his hand! He tilted it this way and that, allowing the blade to glint in the sunlight. He looked from the axe to the cherry tree, and back again. The axe to the cherry, the tree to the axe, again and again. He knew he shouldn't… but no one would notice, right?

He walked slowly over to the tree, still wondering whether he should, but it somehow just seemed like something he absolutely had to do, and he didn't even know why. As he prepared to strike, random words popped into his brain, words that made absolutely no sense, but he decided to yell them as he chopped down the tree, “I want to become the president!” Runny sprinted back home, realizing that he had just chopped down a prized tree that belonged to his neighbor, a powerful figure in the war!

The next day at breakfast, Runny's family sat around the table. “One of Weorge Gashington's cherry trees got chopped down yesterday,” Runny's father mentioned, “Does anyone know who did it?” Runny gulped. “Well, it wasn't me, that's for sure,” Runny replied nervously, sweat rolling down his face.

Later, when Runny headed out to the fields to play his game again, preferably without chopping down any trees, he heard a voice behind him. “My, my Runny,” said the voice. Runny turned around, but he already knew who it belonged to: Weorge. “Oh no,” thought Runny in terror. “I had such faith in you, until I watched as you attacked my prized orchard, and proceeded to LIE about it,” he continued. Runny gulped. “I- I'm sorry,” Runny stammered. “I know,” Weorge replied, “I think you know this already, but you'll never be able to become president after telling a lie like that.” Weorge turned and walked away, leaving Runny standing in confusion.

My Character for The Second Part of the Second Weekly

Name: Rosii (pronounced “Rosie”) Sharp
Age: 14
Species: human
Personality and Traits: Rosii is a very curious girl and always wants to find out as much as she can about any given thing, except for those few things which she considers too trivial to bother with. Sometimes this can work in her favor, allowing her to find out things she would not otherwise. But sometimes it gets her in to a bit of a mess, as she is prone to sticking her nose into things that don’t involve her. She is very headstrong, which often lands her into arguments. When this happens, she’ll do everything she can to prove that she is right, and even if she fails, she will continue to stubbornly defend her point, if proven wrong. She is very independent and considers help unnecessarily. She is also a bit of a loner, but will begrudgingly talk to people if necessary. Sometimes she gets so satisfied at being right, that she can come across as cocky and arrogant, which often pushes people away. She sometimes has a hard time understanding people, often ending up confused in social situations. She dislikes confusion, and this is part of what causes her to keep to herself for a good portion of the time.
Wants, Hopes and Strengths: All her life, Rosii has wanted to solve some kind of huge mystery or crime. And she would be well suited to it, because she has exceptional observation skills and is able to pick up on even the smallest of details. She also has a rather strong memory, allowing her to retain the details she has noticed. To her, making carful observations is second nature, and she often finds things obvious that most people wouldn’t even notice. She also has an analytical mind and can quickly piece tiny bits of information into a larger whole. She would never admit it, but a small part of Rosii wishes that she could understand people a little better, and perhaps even belong with them, as she has felt like a bit of an outsider her who,e life. And she would definitely not be willing to admit just how much she would give for a real friend, or really any close and understanding relationship. She just wants someone who would be there. Someone who would trust her, but not hold her to the incredibly high standards she has set for herself. Someone who, if it came down to it, she wouldn’t be afraid to cry in front of.
Dislikes and Fears: Generally, Rosii dislikes people as a whole. Or, more specifically, she dislikes interacting with them. And she’s afraid of letting anyone get to close to her, in case she gives them her trust and they turn their back on her. And she hates showing any overly strong emotion, even if she’s the only person present, because she’s (wrongly) afraid it makes her weak. These things have caused her to spend a lot of time by herself, which in turn has caused her to be afraid that she’ll be alone forever and never truly be understood. She also dislikes being confused, as it’s such a rare feeling for her, and will go out of her way to avoid situations that might cause her confusion. She’s set impossibly high standards for herself, and she’s afraid that she’ll never meet them.

My character for the weekly! I finished this before I realized that we were doing an exchange, so I hope whoever is seeing this likes it!
Name: Willow
Age: 6 months
Species: Fox

Personality and traits: Willow always seems to her friends to be pretty aloof and distant. She finds it hard to focus on things she is doing or whatever she is learning. Because of this, she doesn't have many friends, but the connections she does have are very strong. She is really kind when you get to know her, but she definitely doesn't seem that way at first glance. She is very patient and is willing to wait a long time to fulfill her dreams. She's thoughtful and quite smart, but only when she wants to be. She loves nature, but she also likes to keep her paws clean. She's dreamy and has a big imagination, she likes to think through all the possible paths in her life before choosing one, or even to think through all the possible answers to a question, which makes her very slow to talk to. She chooses her words carefully. She enjoys nighttime and looking up at the moon, she takes every chance she gets to leave her crowded den and sleep outside. She is pretty closed-minded and loves sticking to the same exact routine every day. She is neutral and doesn't like to pick sides in arguments.

Wants, hopes, and strengths: She is looking forward to the day when she can move out of her family's den, which is filled with younger siblings. She is a strong thinker, she has a good imagination, and she is very smart. However, her parents worry that she won't do well in the outside world because she is constantly lost in thought. She, however, thinks that she will be able to make it. She hopes to someday meet up with a group of like-minded foxes and make some new friends. She feels pretty lonely in her current life, despite her large family, and she thinks that it would be nice to have some connections outside of her family. Her greatest want in life, though, is to find a partner. Whether a best friend or a romantic partner, she just wants someone who will always be there for her, appreciate her, fully understand her personality, and not force her to be present when she doesn't feel up to it. She wants stability and to be able to stick to her routine, and because she dislikes change, she hopes that everything (besides the noise and annoyances) will stay the same once she leaves her family.

Dislikes and fears: She doesn't like being around loud, annoying foxes. She hates constant noise and much prefers the peace and quiet of the forest at night. She dislikes being dirty and will constantly wipe her paws on leaves in an attempt to get them clean. She hates the rain and being wet. She is scared of any type of thunderstorm or strong wind, and storms are the only times she will willingly be inside. She dislikes having to make difficult choices; she can be kept awake for hours by particularly complicated issues. She doesn't love being around others in general, in specific large groups of other foxes.

My Setting for the Third Part of the Second Weekly

The story will take place in a small medieval town called, rather ironically, Oddity. I say this is ironic, because nothing particular stands out as odd in this town. Shops line the cobbled streets, each with large signs placed out front, demanding the attention of anyone who happens to pass by. There’s a variety of scents floating around these streets, be it freshly cut flowers, cooling bread, or hot, smelting metal. A variety of sounds can be heard as well; folks stop to small talk while others yell rudely at them to get out of the way; horse hooves can be heard pounding at the cobblestone, their owners occasionally letting out a whiny. All in all, it’s a pleasant kind of chaotic.
If you go on, the cobblestone paths turn to gravel, and lining these streets are many closely packed houses. Despite their closeness, they don’t appear crowded, rather like happy friends. Each house has its own style, making it easy to guess who lives there.
If you were to follow the paths even further, they would soon turn to dirt. It’s out here, away from the bustle of the center of town, that the farms can be located.
The weather is rather pleasant in Oddity. If I dare, I’ll steal a line from Goldilocks and say that it was not to hot, nor was it to cold. Rather, it was just right.
As stated earlier, nothing about Oddity seemed particularly odd, except of course the irony of its name. However, the town was very different at night; the streets are quiet and all the bustling of the day simply fails to exist. This, too, is far from odd, but it is a clue to the town’s true oddity, the thing all the townsfolk either guard closely, or are completely oblivious to.
This is the one place in the kingdom where non-humans are, at least to an extent, free to live among humans. In any of the ever so normal seeming houses, a vampire, or perhaps a werewolf, or maybe something else, might live. Or, of course, it could simply be the home of a normal human.
But Oddity really isn’t that weird of a town, except for this one extremely odd thing. All in all, it’s a pretty average medieval town.
Oh, but one more thing: the story takes place during the oddest of Oddity’s not-so-odd times; the annual congregation of non-humans. Most people are clueless to it, but suspicion always seems to spike during this week.
But, of course, Oddity isn’t that odd at all.

My Premise for the Fourth Part of the Second Weekly

Your character is typing at a keyboard frantically. Sweat drops down their face as they stare at the screen, scrutinizing the lines of code. They are under a lot of pressure to both get this right, and to do it quickly. The very fate of the planet depends on it. Why is that? Well, a space shuttle has gone haywire, or perhaps been high jacked. That does not matter, what matters is the fact that the shuttle is now on a straight course towards their home, and your character is the only one who can stop it. If they do not stop it, then their home is about to be blown to bits, along with everyone and everything on it.
And then the computer breaks.
Now it is up to your character to figure out how to save their home without their computer or a way to fix it. Can they do it?

Hi, I am from the Mystery cabin
Today I am sharing-
Land of Mystery
Chapter 2- The crystal
Isa arrives at her home and tells her parents, “I think the map we found is leading to a magic land.” Her parents were astonished and said, “It isn’t true.” Isa replies angrily, “Then I will prove it.” She then goes back to Sophie.

After Isa's departure, there parents discussed about something-
Isa's mother said, “ this can't be, what if they solved the riddle, I shouldn't have given the box. ” Isa's father replied, “ but, it's faint, the fairy said she will go back where she belongs soon so I guess this is the time, Wait until they solve the Mystery of the lost land.”
Isa's mother was very worried when Isa told about this but Isa's father convinced him but though his fear and worries were inside him.

Sophie was eager to know about what was the response from Isa’s parents. Isa replies, “They didn’t believe me and I want to prove that we are telling the truth.” Isa and Sophie determine themselves to solve the riddle.

Sophie and Isa start their discussion about the riddle. They didn’t find any clue to the riddle. Sophie says, “How can we prove to your parents that we are right ?”

Just then, Isa sees something sparkling behind the bushes in the moonlight. She goes nearer to take a look. She finds a crystal, when she sees her reflection through the crystal, she sees someone behind her. When she turns around, she sees no one.

Sophie ask, “ Isa, we are trying to solve a very mysterious riddle and what are you starring at that crystal and tuning around. If you do like this, we can't solve the riddle and prove it to your parents and we will never be……

Isa interrupts and tells, ” I have found a crystal behind the bushes, when we see in it, I saw someone and when I turned back there was no one except for you. I think this might help.“
Sophie replies ”oh ok, but my stomach is growling, let's eat and sleep.“
Isa says, ” yup, nothing is embarrassing as a growling stomach, let eat and sleep.“

(At night when both Isa and Sophie are asleep.)

Isa dreamt about a place where there were many fairies and a woman who was dressed like the queen who was holding the crystal which she found.
Isa suddenly woke up and told Sophie about her dream. Sophie says, “I guess, it’s related to you.”

Isa says, “Sophie, I have a strange feeling that I have magical powers and this dream is making my belief even more stronger.” Sophie says, “Isa, I don't think it is true but maybe it has something to do with that riddle and map so please don't tell me about this. Let's investigate about it tomorrow but I still don't believe in magic, I just think it might be a magic land the map is leading but I am not Hundred percent sure .” Isa replies, ” okay, let's go back to sleep and investigate tomorrow."
Isa and Sophie went back to sleep.


(But they don’t know about the upcoming challenges.)

Hello!! This is my daily for mystery!.so we had to re-write a short expert from any fanfic, novel or anything in our least favourite gene. So i took an expret from “three wizards and a baby,” which is my favourite dramione fanfic ever. I wrote it in sci-fie, my leats favourite.


Here you go : (total 531 words)



“Theo,” she chuckled, gently handing her baby lyra over to him. “I’m trying to stay out of the way. That’s impossible when you pop up every time I walk into a room.”

“And why would you stay out of the way? That’s no fun. No fun at all right Lyra?” Theo smiled at the little one in his arms before looking back up at her clearly exhausted mother. “Why don’t you go take a bath and a nap Granger. Your hair is expanding by the minute.”

“I’ll take a nap while she’s sleeping.”

“Hermione,” Theo chuckled. “I have this under control. I can take care of Lyra while you take care of yourself. You just fed her right? Besides… I have Missy, my house elf to help me if something happens.”

“Theo you can’t use Missy to take care of Lyra.”

“Granger you wound me,” Theo gasped playfully. “How dare you insinuate that I am not perfectly capable of taking care of another human being.” With a chuckle he smiled back down at Lyra who was looking up at him with her big chocolate brown eyes. “Now go on. I have bonding to do with my favorite Granger here.” Shooing her away with his hand, Theo smiled as he watched Hermione retreat out of the room, leaving her alone with the little baby, not knowing that was the last time she'll see kittle lyra ever agaun.
“Finally, it’s just you and me, little one.”Theo wasted no time walking around the manor with her, showing her things as if she knew exactly what he was talking about. The manor was dark and creepy, and a mist flowed about. How could Hermione granger believe that he, Theodore not jr, Slytherin, one of the pureblood sacred 28, would even take in a filthy mudblood like her? Oof she is so not the brightest witch of her age. Theo's only goal when he “befriended” the golden witch was to kill her only spawn in revenge for his father's imprisonment in azkaban, because a mother's lose is bigger then anything. He pretended to be friendly and lovely with the little mudblood spawn, pointing out things to her in his manor after he sent Hermione to sleep. For all he knew Lyra could, she was Hermione’s daughter after all. “You’re gonna be a swot like your filthy mother, ’m sure of it. Unless i kill you first." He let iut a creepy cackle and wished that Hermione had not heard it. He had to wait for draco and blaise to finish the baby off. Before he knew it, he was back in the library, grabbing his wand to enchant the book he had begun reading to Lyra just a few days prior. Letting the book hover in front of him, Theo began to read to Lyra, letting her soak in all the words as magic turned the pages for him. She giggled when he reached the part where the Prince meets the princess, and told her she would very soon be no longer on this planet to read further.
“Oi Nott!” A voice shouted out in the distance, causing Theo to look up from the pages. “I’ve got a bottle of Ogden’s finest with our name on it ti celebrate our revenge!! Where the bloody hell are you at?”

“Well little Granger,” Theo grinned , looking down at the chocolate brown eyes staring up at him. “Looks like it's time.”




Note : i just took the setting from the novel, where Hermione and her daughter live eith Theodore nott. I changed it completely. They are very good friends and lyra (the baby) has draco, theo, blaise, pansy and the potters wrapped around her finger. It is most beautiful thing i have ever read, so please chevk it out.!!

Fyi i again remind u they are not planning her murder.

Daily 10

Word War (Won)

The eyes in the painting seemed to follow her down the corridor as she walked steadily yet quietly. Ella was not aware of the nightmares she would face ahead so she kept walking. Voices, or rather noises, started coming out of the door right in front of her. She thought of turning back and running, never to see the place or the door again but curiosity got the best of her. She took a huge and deep breath and walked close to the door, slowly grabbing the doorknob and turning it. The door opened with a slight click and a huge creak. The next thing Ella saw nearly made her faint out of fear. A woman, in her thirties, was sitting on a table, bound from shoulder to feet. A huge seven feet creature was facing Ella and the most gruesome part about it was its face. Ella stopped, dumbstruck, in her tracks. She shivered from head to toe and nearly fell to the ground. The woman, she saw, was unconscious. The- thing- in front of her was intimidating. Ella didn't know what to do so she closed the door in front of her and ran for her life. The monster may or may not have followed her but it is a mystery. Shivering, breathless, and sweating, Ella woke up and wondered if all of it had been only a nightmare.

+231 words

March 10th (Daily)
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Today I am writing about a character from the anime “Demon Slayer” which is the main protagonist, which is Tanjiro Kamado. However, I am writing this story as a contemporary genre.

Tanjiro was breathing heavily, the sense of dread creeping up on him. How did he get into this situation? When will Nezuko wake up from her coma? Many questions remain in Tanjiro's head as he clutched the axe in his hands. He must survive, he needs to. Everyone who was waiting for him, everyone whom the thieves had robbed and killed, Tanjiro vowed to kill every single one of them. But his trainer, Urokodaki, noted that Tanjiro is too kind, way too kind to kill a person, even someone who was one of the kind who killed Tanjiro's whole family, all but his sister, Nezuko. Tanjiro started to calm down, he needs to survive. After all, those two years of training, and fighting with that dead hunter who recently passed the day before… Tanjiro shook his head, “No, I need to focus. I cannot let their effort on me go wasted!” Gathering his courage, Tanjiro decided to rest for the night, he climbed on a tree to rest, dreaming about the band of thieves, which they are connected to the whole world, causing many deaths in this world…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” A smell had decided to go on a adventure inside a nose, a very sensitive nose. Tanjiro woke up with a jolt

The reason this was cut short because I accidentally erased everything ;-; (cut due to my stupidity)

Weekly Part 2 - Character (feel free to use! <3)

Name: Thea Gold
Age: 14
Species: Human

Personality and Traits: Thea is, above all else, stubborn. She makes up her mind quickly and sticks to her guns, and refuses to ever go back on her word. She fears trusting others and approaches situations with consideration of how it could benefit her. Despite the distant, awkward front she puts up, she is painfully proud and sensitive to the words and criticisms of others.
She does not make friends easily. She dislikes being emotionally vulnerable, fearing the ways that her weaknesses could be used against her, and this has led her to become outcast and lonely. She likes animals, however, and her quiet, calm nature makes them like her back; she is the sort to put up bird feeders and plant bee-friendly flowers (but in secret, of course, as she fears the judgement of her peers).
Thea doesn’t engage in small talk well, as she never knows the right thing to say, but enjoys speaking when she has a subject to talk about that she enjoys. Regardless of her other flaws, she is admired for her analytical mind and quick thinking, and is good at writing essays. Quietly, she is creative, but too scared to share her stories and poetry – she would probably keep a secret diary. (205)

Wants, Hopes, and Strengths: Thea Gold is extremely ambitious, wishes to do well in whatever she chooses to pursue, and quantifies being liked with success – but her very greatest want is to be accepted as she is. However, she does not feel like this is possible as she is insecure in herself and believes that showing that ‘weaker’ side of her will get her hurt. Her secondary want is for the appreciation, love and (ideally) the adoration of her peers, even if this involves not being quite so true to herself – that said, her stubborn nature stops her from actively going against any of her beliefs. Her kindness is one of her greatest strengths, despite her belief that this will be perceived as something to be exploited and her refusal to show that same kindness to herself. Another strength is her creativity – she has a flair for coming up with unique concepts and engages critically with what she comes up with, always pushing herself to be better. Finally, she hopes for a kinder world, and that if she ever did share the stories she comes up with, that they would make someone happy. She is self-aware of how her pride gets in the way of her own happiness, and hopes that this will change. (210)

Dislikes and Fears: She dislikes lying and hypocrisy, and always tries to be honest and reasonable. However, if she encounters bullying or unkindness, she will prioritise herself over sticking up for someone else. Her greatest fears are being disliked, perceived as weak, and being taken advantage of (the latter being a result of her debilitating trust issues). More generally, she dislikes the colour light green, small talk, crowded environments and watching movies when they have subtitles on. The safety and integrity of her reputation is important to her, and she hates it when anything she says is taken out of context or twisted to make her look bad. (105)

(total: 520)

Word Count: 2105 words
Age Rating: 10-15
Cabin: Poetry

- This story was a story I made a year ago but it was originally written as action but my least favorite genre is romance- so uh, help me. But anyways, I did it.

~ S T O R Y ~
Everyone must be sorted into 5 teams, they’re all based on their personalities. You are going to be taking special tests when you’re the age of 18, and you’re going to split off to that team. Today was the day Lune had her special test. She, along with her two brothers, were preparing to go to the place provided. “Listen, remember to always stay strong and do what’s based on you, think of yourself…”, said Lune’s mother. Lune nodded and got ready. After she arrived, she saw multiple personalities. “Giving, Happiness, Fearless, Intelligent, and Nothing”. Nothing means, you basically have no personality and if you are positive for it, you must run because people will hunt you down. If the person who gives you the test is kind enough, you may even escape. There’s another one, which is the “Ultimates”, like the nothing, they both are hunted down. The ultimates consist of every of the personalities and it makes them superior.

Lune was called to room number 24, inspected by Dr. Luisa, one of the kindest doctors in the world. Lune was asked to sit on the chair, they are going to be injecting something to Lune. “I am seeing a person, they’re group is nothing. I shouldn’t help, or maybe I should? Let me buy some bread. Oh, I don’t have any money, I’m going to need to rob. But, I’m going to need a plan. I can distract the guard that someone is going to rob, I have 2 seconds to take it, and then approximately 2.5 more seconds before they come back. Alright, now I have some bread, I’m going to give it to the “nothings”, it feels really happy to see people get things, I just feel very glad when I do so. Oh no, the cops are onto me. I have to fight, there’s no way out…” Dr. Luisa said that the test was over and they are checking her results. She said to calm down and drink this pill to feel better. Once the results are in. “Oh no, you are one of the Ultimates, go run! Don’t tell anyone, even the people you care about, for now, your highest is fearless, so you’re going to be placed there”, said Dr. Luisa. Lune walked out slowly, thinking that she would perish any time soon. The next morning, Lune was called by an anonymous number. Someone messaged her to open her door. Lune approached the door and opened it. “Hello? What are you doing—-”. They explained that they are supposed to take her to fearless and Lune joined them. They told Lune to use these clothes for more comfort when training around.

When Lune arrived, she asked why there was nothing. The people ran and kidnapped her, it was all a lie. She could barely breathe as they took her inside the building. Lune had to do something, she tried to fight but she couldn’t. They beat Lune up until something happened. “Release her— remember, this was only a test. You shouldn’t be beating up people”, said a new voice. That was Liam, the son of the commander. “Huh, so you can’t even fight and you’re sorted into fearlessness? I don’t think you can even make it out to be honest— and this is a school training. Welcome to your new school”, said Liam. “Welcome to yours, well, maybe, you even are weak to try to interrogate people”, replied Lune.

“Alright, we’ll battle it out to prove it, you lose, you’re gone”, replied Liam angrily. “Sure, I’d like to see you even try to hit me…”, cackled Lune. They went to the training podium and fought. Lune and Liam were as good as each other. They fought for over an hour and wasn’t tired at all. “Huh, wonder how you’re not tired. Only people with this team has it, you may go now. But, keep in mind, you’re not going away next time”, said Liam. Lune then walked away to the rooms. “I really miss father, mother, and brother. Here is awful and everything is literally pain. This is like an illusion to me, I want to go back to happiness with mother and father”, thought Lune. The PA Announcer said “Everyone, please sleep as tomorrow, we’ll be starting our first day at fearless academy.”

The next morning, Lune brushed her hair, used the clothes providen and head to class. There she met Liam, Marco, and Liam’s girlfriend, Sara. She just passed them as if they were just air, and she sat on her chair. The teacher explained that they’re going to each go separate places and discover an egg that they hidden. Lune ran to the gym, it was very long and she was in the center, looking for it. Suddenly, the ground shaked, like an earthquake. Lune immediately ran under a table, but there was no table at the gym. She ran as fast as she could to the resting lounge under the table. 5 minutes later, it was done. And Lune found the egg! Everyone was called back to the classroom and only 2 people found the egg. Sara and Lune. They both are forced to go in the arena and fight for whoever is on top. Sara was so determined she would win that she tried to discourage Lune. Lune ignored and head to the arena. They both were on the arena, and “3, 2, 1… start fighting!” They each gave critical attacks to each other and the battle has lasted for 10 minutes now. Lune was on the ground, her hand scab was bIeeding, and she did one final punch to Sara. Sara was tossed out the arena and Lune won. Liam became very angry at Lune. Liam came to Lune and started fighting her. Injured, Lune couldn’t do anything but use her legs. Lune and Sara was brought to the medical clinic. “Hey, I’m really sorry, you’re really strong”, commented Sara to Lune. Lune said “It’s alright! I’m sorry for giving that last punch pretty hard.” “Sorry for Liam too, he’s like this everyday! Hey, wanna go to class together?”, asked Sara. Lune said yes and they went to class, talking to each other and they had a lot in common together. When Luke saw them talking to each other, he told Liam. Liam was furious and came to Sara and told her to stop and Sara agreed. Sara said bye to Lune and they each went their separate ways. Liam told Sara to go to his room because Liam wanted to tell Sara something important.

“Why did you go with Lune? WHY HER!? Out of all the girls you can, you chose this weird random girl who just came out of the trash can. We’re breaking up, I can’t stand someone who is friends with a literal trash can, GET OUT”, told Liam furiously. “Well, I was going to either way, did you even like you? No one”, replied Sara. Sara then went out of his room and knocked on Lune’s door. Lune asked if something was going on and Sara went in and explained everything to Lune. Lune apologized to Sara and Sara said she never even liked him. Sara then swap her rooms to beside Lune and they had a connecting room. A few weeks past, it goes the same. Lune and Liam’s hateness to each other just grew and grew more. They wanted to end each other off.

In the hallway, Sara saw Liam with another girl, Carly. Carly was the top bully and one of the prettiest girls in the academy. Sara was very angry, because among everyone, he selected Carly. Sara explained and told everything to Lune and Lune understood. Sara also said that she was going to get some art materials from the bookstore for their art project. When Sara was there, Carly and her friend, Allister, were there. Carly approached Sara and asked “So, heh, you’re the girl that Liam went out first? Well, you look just as terrible as a trash pile. Ally, push her off the ground.” Ally agreed to Carly and pushed Sara off. Lune was confused why it took Sara so long so she went to the bookstore. “If you stay anywhere near Liam, I’m going to beat you up and you won’t feel anything, since you’re gone. Ally, finish her off—” “With pleasure Carly.” Just a second later, Lune appeared in front of Sara and Carly and Ally were on the ground “If you stay anywhere near Sara, I’m going to beat you up and you won’t feel anything, since you’re gone.” Ally and Carly ran away because they were terrified. Carly was crying and telling everything to Liam about what happened. Liam told the principal and Lune was called. “Bro- Carly was the one bullying Sara, just because this boy is the child of the commander, means he rules anything.” The principal suspended Lune from the school for 2 days and Lune just went out. She had her madness going and it’s driving her.
The next few days went the same, Sara went to the library to get some books and she encountered Carly again. This time, Carly gave her a scratch, Sara ran off the Lune. Meanwhile, Lune went to Liam and said that she wants to make an offer. By the time Liam said sure, Sara came and Lune approached her. She looked at the scar and told Sara to reach out to the clinic. Lune told Liam to come to the office so that they can discuss. “Can you please tell your girlfriend to just leave Lune alone?” “What do I get from it?” “Hm, your girlfriend.” “Bro, she’s mine.” “I’ll bully her if you don’t tell Carly to stop doing it to Lune.” “Well, then I’m going to end you and try to even touch her.” Lune then giggles and said “I’m not scared of you, boy…” and she headed off.

By the past few weeks, Liam started to dislike Carly and realize what Lune said was true. He came to Lune and asked for an apology. From that day on, they weren’t enemies anymore. Liam also apologized to Sara for his actions. Carly cheated on Liam, she secretly went out with Luke. Liam joined Sara and Lune and they became very close friends. They had tons of tournaments and won a lot of tournaments together. They were in the top rank. One night, Sara needed to went out to the mall for an issue. Overtime, Lune and Liam have developed little feelings for each other. Out of nowhere, Lune started choking. Liam brought Lune to the bedroom to rest and he made a chicken soup as soon as possible. Then Liam fed some of the soup to Lune. Lune started feeling better. “I want to tell you something, Lune…” “Oh sure, what is it?” “I have slight f-feelings for you, ever since they day I met you, I always did…” Lune was confused and asked “But we hated each other?” “I’m very sorry to tell you this out of nowhere…” Lune admitted “I do like you too…” Sara came back and the next week, Lune and Liam were seen together and Sara was so happy! One night, Sara was sleeping and there was tons of creaks. She woke up and checked downstairs. She saw someone, like a robber going out. She ran up and woke up both Liam and Lune and told them that they had to hide. Lune was shot by the dart and it made her faint. Liam carried her to the attic where they both hid. Liam fought off the enemies and got injured by a gunshot. Lune suddenly woke up and fought the rest of the people. She immediately teleported Liam and Sara into the hospital. Sara called Liam’s parents and picked them up going to the hospital. Lune said “I’m so sorry, it was my fault. If I didn’t sleep, you would have not be injured.” Lune started tearing up a little. Liam said “It’s not your fault…” “Liam, I have something to admit to you that no one knows about.” “Is it that you are one of the Ultimates? I knew from the beginning about it. I’m also an Ultimate. Sara is too.” “Wait really?” “Lune, come here…” They both eventually were together and Sara adopted a daughter. Liam and Lune had 1 daughter and 1 son. They all lived happily ever after. The teams were also banished and Lune met up with her family and she hugged them very tightly. They all were happy at last, together.

♜ 10th of March ♜
655 words

Premise: The plot/lore of the game A Dark Room (which can be found on its wiki)
Least Favourite Genre: Horror

The Builder stumbled into the room. It was a simple building, just a lone room in the middle of a forest, crumbling and broken down. But the moment she saw light coming from within, and felt the warmth of a fire and the sounds of someone feeding it, she came running. She stepped inside.

Suddenly, the rush of heat overtook her senses. It had been months since she was this warm. She fell to her knees.
Warm warm warm warm-
The sheer contrast of the freezing air blowing in from outside and the heat of the fire shocked her senses. The Builder edged deeper into the room, staring at her hands. She laughed slightly. This was amazing. She wasn't nearly frozen to the bone. She was warm.

Warm.

Cold.

For a single, flickering moment, the fire flared. Then, the darkness came rushing in. Something had put it out. The Builder gasped. The cold bit into her bones and chattered her teeth. She panted from the sensory overload, struggling to recover from the abrupt change.

A warble came from behind her.

The Builder whipped around. “Hello?” she whispered, clasping her locket tight. She shivered.
Cold.
A single eye opened in the gloom. Then, more. Many, many more. They stared at her out of the darkness with a piercing gaze. The Builder backed away.

The other person in the room. The one she'd forgotten about in her all too momentary bliss of warmth. They stood in front of her right now, shrouded in shadows. And whatever it was, whatever they were, made her limbs scream. Run, her mind seemed to yell. Run. She didn't run.

It- they- they warbled again. A guttural sound, deep and throaty and inhuman. They moved closer.
A prickle creeping up her spine, the Builder backed away. She held her hands out in an attempt at peace.
Still, it crept closer. The chill of the cold seemed to wrap around her more tightly. Again, she shivered.

Somewhere out there, in the depths of the forest, a peculiar animal cawed. It spread through the air, triumphant and screeching. She jumped.

They warbled louder. The light hit them as they came closer, and closer, and closer. The Builder held her ground, watching with caution, ready to spring and jump away at a moment's notice. Thousands of pointy teeth revealed themselves to her, as well as at least six arms, each finger on them sharp and claw-like. A Wanderer. They be able would tear her to shreds.

“Hey…” the Builder began, in a last ditch effort. The more she stared at them, the more her senses cried wrong, wrong wrong. But perhaps if she appeased it, in some way, she could survive? Hopefully. Wanderers were a ruthless species, but surely they had the capacity for mercy. Right?

The Wanderer warbled louder. It was a questioning one, this time, but also a wary one. Something had happened to them for them to end up here in this cold, cold room, and it made them ready to strike and the slightest sign. They stepped ever so near.

They loomed over her now, like a tree to a child. Dozens of eyes narrowed, stance ready, the dark enveloping them like a creature of nightmares, its ragged clothing making them appear wild, and feral, though she knew their species was one of the most intelligent in the galaxy.
The Builder braced for impact, only managing to cry out a small “Wait!”.

The Wanderer stilled. She didn't dare to breathe free just yet.
“Wait!” she repeated. “I-i'm a friend! I can help you. I can make things, build things. I'm a Builder, see?” she brought her few tools out of her bag. “Please, please- I'll help you, just-”

The Wanderer began moving again. Now, it was close enough that she finally succumbed to her instincts.

The Builder grit her teeth and shut her eyes.
Cold.