How do I get ideas for stories? I'm so stuck- - owlgoing-

I woke up today and realized that my whole room had been mangofied (meaning mangle accessories all the good stuff) should I turn it back? - SugarN_Milk

How do I not get writers block? - ai_oue

Are you looking for adventure this summer? Fun? Writing? New friends? And a chaotic thing know as cabin wars? Because you’re in luck! Introducing Scratch Writing Camp, a online writing camp for budding writers of ages 2-89!

Participate in daily and weekly writing activities!

Compete in speed-writing duels known as word wars!

Face the wrath of your enemies during cabin wars!

And most importantly, prepare to be crushed by Dystopian!

Adventure! Fun! Writing! Friends! Cabin Wars! If you’re looking for those things this summer, do not hesitate! Join SWC as soon as possible at *swc backup camper signups* /lh

Welcome to Pandora’s Fruit Farm, a farm with every fruit you can imagine! From the boring ones like strawberries and bananas, to the exciting ones to help you beat your word count (kinda breaking the Scratch Writing Camp rules, but whatever!) like writing-quality-enhancing grapefruits (guaranteed to win the writing comp!) and fast-fingers figs (everyone who’s tried one hasn’t lost a word war!). We even have our SWC-world-famous lovely mangoes! 50% discount on a life-time supply of fresh, juicy mangoes for the Scratch Writing Camp camper. Pandora’s Fruit Farm: Only the best, for the best! Go to a Pandora’s Fruit Farm near you! /j

➳ Peachi's Place of Posted Prompts ˊ．ˎ-

✎ The library is vast, filled with thousands of millions of books,
writing pieces, and scrolls in hundreds of different languages
. Each section is divided by language, then by genre (alphab
etically, with copies made as necessary if a piece fits multipl
e categories), author (alphabetically), and then purpose.
You walk through the P section, over halfway through your q
uest to read every piece in the English section. Up next is P
eachi, and you’re currently in the process of reading through
her second session of writing for SWC- unfortunately, perhap
s, the only writing posted by them.
You open the directory and begin reading the list of pieces of
writing, looking for the place where you last left off.
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰

✎ July 1: mc. introduce yourself (0 points, 573 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 2: mc. magic 8 ball determines plot (600 points, 1261 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 3: ic. if you could enter a simulation (408 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 4: mc. ambiguity and vagueness (700 points, 582 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 5: mc. proverb-based writing (400 points, 453 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 6: mc. horoscope-based writing (800 points, 503 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 7: mc. writing three-word stories (0 points, 264 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 8: mc. google translate prompts (500 points, 433 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 9: mc. cabin wars (100 challenge points, 3354 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 10: mc. use wordle as a prompt (500 points, 436 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 11: mc. no dialogue / thoughts (800 points, 646 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 12: ic. write featuring an object around you (221 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 13: mc. make a map of a place (500 points, 1789 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 13: ic. swap with someone on the other side (343 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 14: mc. your character's sleep (700 points, 1217 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 15: mc. write someone's object (900 points, 544 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 16: mc. an important moment (600 points, 435 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 16: ic. write using three or two letter words (352 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 17: mc. sentence sandwich (900 points, 1019 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 18: mc. writing swc fairy tales (900 points, 3294 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 19: mc. a story without a setting (500 points, 916 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 20: mc. critiquing others' writing (400 points, 543 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 20: ic. finish what someone left unfinished (865 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 21: ic. write with your least favourite weather (232 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 23: mc. cabin wars x2 (50 challenge points, 7242 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 25: mc. write a cabin desc intro (400 points, 185 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 25: mc. place changes over time (700 points, 478 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 27: mc. more for writing victories (lost mine, 264 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 28: mc. another cabin is the best (600 points, 301 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 29: mc. writing a lasagna story (700 points, 756 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 30: mc. idioms but literally taken (500 points, 346 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 31: mc. some notes i failed to write well (627 words)
⤹ link here

✎ July 3-9: mc. write some fanfiction (3000 points, 3451 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 10-16: mc. write a newspaper (3500 points, 2334 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 17-23: mc. write some fantasy (4000 points, 3094 words)
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 24-30: mc. suswc (among us) (5000 points, 4110 words)
⤹ link here

✎ July 12: 2 minute long word war with @opheliio
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 13: 2 minute long word war with @i_like_kotlc
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 16: 3 minute long word war with @23BraveHeart
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 21: 3 minute long word war with @cb2jkl
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 21: 3 minute long word war with @Cherrie_Tree
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 22: 3 minute long word war with @23BraveHeart
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 27: 5 minute long word war with @22shock
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 29: 3 minute long word war with @23BraveHeart
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 30: 5 minute long word war with @22shock
⤹ link here
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ July 31: 15 minute long word war with @Sandy-Dunes
⤹ link here

✎ Time zone: PDT
⤹ Midnight in UTC would be 5:00 PM PDT
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ Word goal: 35,000 (102.27%)
⤹ Progress: 35,795 words (updated July 20, 1:09 PM PDT)
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ Cabin: Fanfiction (Fan-fi)
⤹ Agent of the Government Peacekeeping Force
⊱ ─────────────── { « ʚ ✎ ɞ » } ─────────────── ⊰
✎ Taskmastery and General Messery
⤹ part 1

☆☆☆ #53 … juli's writing thread!! . weeklies can be found on @storyy . writing comp entry: link

daily or something else > july whateverth . wordcount . points

daily > july thirtieth . 357 . +500
it's raining cats and doggos
May had just been lounging and reading on her bed, when all the pounding and yelping had begun. The sudden noise cut through the silence, causing her to jump. Instinctively, she ran out of the room with her book, trying to find someone who understood what was going on.
She heard the sound of the front door opening, and then her mother screaming and shouting a few words.
“What's wrong?” She asked, rushing down the stairs two at a time.
“It's raining cats and dogs!”
May was pretty confused. “Huh. All that noise didn't sound like rain to me, are you sure?”
She lived in a place where it rained rather often, so she was quite used to the constant sound of raindrops. Even the heavy ones. This time, it sounded like somebody was dropping very heavy pillows, which was odd indeed. Not rain, not hail, and most definitely not snow?
“No, I mean it quite literally.” Her mother answered flatly.
“That makes more sense –” She started to say, before changing the sentence. “Wait, actually, I take that back. I'm still utterly confused.”
“Come see for yourself, then.”
May speed walked to the front door, not really able to imagine what would meet her eyes. But sure enough, there were hundreds of cats and dogs roaming the streets, looking as confused and dazed as she was. The skies were also still overcast, dropping a new animal every minute or so.
She was about to go outside and see if any of them needed medical attention, but her mother pulled her back.
“What are you thinking - another one could fall right on your head!” She shouted.
May hated to admit it, but that was true. There wasn't any blood on the streets, so that was… great.
“Well, what now?” May said. Normally, she would've obsessed over how cute they all were and proceed to beg to keep one; but for whatever obvious reason, she wasn't so keen on keeping an animal that had just fallen straight out of the sky.
“No idea.”
Soon enough, the usual, cat and dog cloudless skies were back. All the ‘rain’ remained, however.

daily > july 29th, 602, +700 / tw: death (and an entire story not making much sense /hj)
what i wrote: beginning: your character found a treasure chest , conflict: they need to find a key to open the chest (but since we're mix-matching, chest = ‘something’), setting: a forest, climax: what they're looking for is in a cave full of evil crabs :epic crab battle: and ending: they find out it's a dream and wake up before their goal hehe

-

ka26dhan > beginning: you forgot that you have to go to this humongous important event
SSingh2008 > conflict: your char isn't able to do their homework
coolgirl100- >setting: the local park
Sunclaw68 > climax: someone sacrifices themselves
SqueakyBird520 > ending: the friend dies but their ghost is still there

-

Marie sat at her desk, all hunched over and squinting at her math homework. At last, she sighed and decided to give up on question 69, hoping to come back to it after a break. She switched on her phone… and right there, at the top of her screen, flashed a big reminder.
“Neighborhood Party. July 29th, 5:00pm.”
The neighborhood party had been a tradition for years. Not attending was like declaring yourself no longer part of the community. The rule had been made by the hosts, who were important, forceful, cruel people. Yet, everybody was too frightened to argue. Especially since they could order anybody to… die. For entertainment.
Right. At least one death happened every year. Fun party, hm? Unfortunately, Marie's family was too poor to move out of the neighborhood. The only reason they weren't under constant fear was because there were enough people, that none of them were at huge risk. A point eight percent, really.
But, the real problem was, it was four forty. It was a fifteen minute walk to the park, where the party was being hosted. ‘Late’ was a huge offense. With that being said, Marie ran to her closet and threw on the first outfit she found - jeans and a ruffled pink tank top. Normally, she loved dressing more extravagant and extra, but it was too late for that this time. She quickly brushed out her hair and slapped on some make-up. It looked horrific, and normally she'd re-do it… but. As already said, this was not a normal circumstance. She took a final glance at question 69 - which would have to wait until later.
She ran out of the house, carry only her phone. She didn't have the time to grab anything else - besides, those were needs, not wants.
Four fifty. Time to run, she guessed.

-

Even with running, she arrived a couple minutes behind the starting time. Marie blamed her bad endurance, she could run for more than a minute with stopping to catch her breath. So, she just hoped that nobody would notice and that everything would be fine.
She met one of her friends by the gate.
“Hey Marie!” Liz shouted. Laughing, she said, “You're late.”
She quickly clamped her hand over her mouth. ‘You’re late' had always been one of their school inside jokes. But now was most definitely not the time for it.
The hose wandered over, like he was summoned. “Looks like she is!” He said gleefully. “Perfect for a sacrifice…”
“No!” Liz exclaimed, bringing attention to the host that she was standing there. “I, uh, um, made her late. Take me instead!”
“Liz!” Marie whispered desperately. “No, you matter more than me!”
But it was too late, the host put his finger on her friend's shoulder, and Liz was as good as dead.

-

The next day, Marie heard a knock on her front door. She didn't want to go and get it, she didn't want to do anything other than die, which she should have.
The knocker kept knocking, more urgently, even. Marie groaned and went to open the door.
And… it was Liz.
“You died.” Marie said flatly.
“Mhm. There you go, stating the obvious.” Liz sighed. “I'm still dead, mind you. This is my ghost.”
“You shouldn't have died.” Marie continued.
“No, it's okay really. I hated my life.” She said with distaste, before adding “You were the only thing that made it good.”
Marie sighed. It was… hard, to talk things out with her friend. “You really promise so?”
Liz nodded. “As long as you promise to still be my friend.”
(602 words)

SUSwc weekly #4,
among us choose your own adventure
(3669 words of utter chaos / only my actually writing, not including prompts <3)
PATHS TAKEN: 2-2, 3-1, 4-3, 1-5, 5-2, 102-1, 82-2, 7-3, 6-3, 9-1 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 6- S;2- S;5- S;3- F, 8- F, 7- S;4- F, 9- S;1- F | ENDING: neutral



Begin a story, any way you like, but keep it close to 100 words. (100)
Astra was on an afternoon stroll. Just a casual one, dancing through the winding pathways that were carved across the meadow. She let the breeze whip through her hair, and twirled the liquid-like fabric of her dress. Normally, her self-consciousness would've made her feel silly, but things were different when nobody was around. Just the unjudging peace of nature. She felt… free. And really, really, unusually happy. So, with a cheery tune playing inside of her head, Astra let the day pass by, gazing up at the traveling clouds and thinking about what other beauties lay in the endless world.

Write 300 words describing your character having a sudden flashback of a previous event. (311)
But, she was reminded of the fact that evil lurked in places too. Her mind switched to replay an event from long ago - ten years, to be exact. She was five, sitting in her parent's bedroom as a result of a nightmare. Though rather insignificant, the memory stayed strangely clear in her mind.
Her short hair, messy, flying behind her as she ran and she started crying for mama. Her fat hand clutched an arm of her bunny plush, which she loved with all her heart, even though it was severely worn out. (For the record, he was named Toast by Astra's dad. Toast was still on her shelf, to this present day.)
“There's a monster under my bed.” Young Astra sobbed. “Its name is AstraEater and it told me it was gonna eat me someday.”
What a classic.
“Aw, darling. It's just lying, trying to scare you. I bet it's too small to even fit you into its mouth.” Her mom had answered, brushing wet strands of hair away from her daughter's face.
“But it sounded so true! What if it rips me into little pieces?!”
Her mom must've realized her comfort wasn't enough. She sighed. “There is evil and darkness in the world, sugar. But there's an awful lot of light too, and they balance each other out. Balance is how the world stays functionable.”
Astra sniffed. “So… there are good monsters?”
“Not necessarily monsters. Good or evil can come in any form.”
“What about neutral?”
“There's a lot of that too. We're one of them - it's up to us to decide who we'll be.” Her mom smiled. “Now go to bed and wish AstraEater a good night.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. Love you…”
She laid in bed not sleeping for a long time that night, her little brain trying to understand why someone would choose to be evil.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: look at nice stuff for ten minutes (i did this by going on pinterest hehe)

You must write for 10 minutes with the prompt from a person in the cabin with the opposite ranking.
(at the time, fantasy was in 11th, so i asked 5th place - scifi! prompt: “You left the oven on for a few minutes, and now the toilet you are sitting on begins to speak” (Zai)) (240) (why)
Astra snapped out of her strange, sudden flashback, and decided it's time to head home. A little hungry, she starts cooking up a batch of blueberry muffins. Soon, the sweet scent of baking fruit filled the kitchen. Fifteen minutes left on the timer.
It was then that she had to use the bathroom. Fifteen minutes was plenty of time, what could go wrong?
But, as she was doing her thing, the toilet she was on began speaking.
“bRUh.”
Astra was startled so hard, she thought she'd died. She lived alone??!
“EXCUSE ME?!”
The same nasal voice replied. “HI I'M YOUR TOILET!”
As one would expect, Astra screamed, rushed to pull up her underpants and flush, and ran to grab a hammer.
While doing so, the oven beeped. Whatever, that had to wait for later. Now, there was more urgent business.
Astra frantically began smashing her toilet. It seemed like the best option - new, non-talking toilets awaited at her local hardware store, after all.
It was the toilet's turn to be surprised.
“wHy aRe yOu dOOOOoing this to mEEE??”
“Why do you think I'm doing this?!” Astra shouted. “You're literally a talking toilet! I can't live with this! It's creepy!”
When the toilet remained silent, she went back to some heavy smashing. Perhaps she would burn the fragments later.
And speaking of burning, that was exactly what was happening to her muffins. The previously pleasant blueberry perfume had quickly turned unpleasant.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: write a list of at least 5 achievements you’re most proud of.
This is the second weekly I’m doing for the session, which is good enough for the fact that I was away for a week
I’ve never not met my word goal in all my 5 sessions
That one time some years ago my yearbook cover entry placed in top five irl
That I’ve made it into an irl yearbook committee this year
I can freehand stars

Write at least 200 words, where your character is magically transported to another world. (239)
She reached to gather the toilet fragments. However, when her fingers brushed the first one (the one with the flushy thing), a tornado whorled to life right in the bathroom. Screaming for the second time in 30 minutes, Astra blinked the light out of her eyes and found that she was now standing in the middle of a pink path. The path was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but grass.
“What happened this time?” She shrieked into the loneliness, not really expecting a response due to the fact that she was holding, like, a tenth of the magic toilet. But as it turned out, even just 10% could still possess speech.
“Can't burn me now.” The toilet said.
Not really knowing what else to do, Astra let out a long sigh.
“Great, who's turning off the oven now?! My house is probably in flames right now!”
The toilet made a scoffing noise, which made Astra really glad that the toilet didn't have a face.
She folded her arms. “Take. Me. Back Now.”
“Huh. And burn me to ashes?”
She was getting rather impatient. “We'll make a truce. I'll throw you into the canyon instead?”
“Non. Of course not.”
Astra squeezed the fragment in anger. She tapped all over it, hoping to find some sort of a trigger. When she pushed on the flushy thing, the tornado came back and not-so-gracefully threw her back into the bathroom.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: come up with 5 reasons why you appreciate a ST member, then send it to them! (message sent to ceebee*)
“hey, i'm another swc-er! although i was asked, i really do mean this message <3 1. you're super kind and supportive! 2. you receive so many messages and questions, yet you manage to be so patient with them all :0 3. you keep scratch a safe and happy space! 4. you're active and post amazing projects for the community 5. you're very dedicated to your work! thank you for your work for scratch!”

Incorporate elements of fantasy, fairy tales, or myth. (161)
…For a few seconds, at least. Her landing caused her to land on other toilet fragments. That was bad, for two reasons. Firstly because it meant that another tornado soon came to scoop her up, and secondly because the fragments were pointy and hurt her back.
She didn't have much time to stress over the pain, because as she once again adjusted to the brightness, she found herself in front of a castle that looked very unfamiliar - she couldn't pin it exactly, but she knew she didn't recognize it from anywhere. Just that it was very different from the pink path.
“So the stupid fragments teleport me to randomized locations.” Astra mumbled. She didn't like that one bit - random stuff was always a pain. What if she ended up in a deep, dark cave next? She hated things randomly chosen, they were always so unpredictable. She very much would rather have the comfort of a plan. And some backup ones, too.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: eat food for five minutes (yum I love food)

In 200 words, a character reveals one of their main motives is to gain something. (379)
Astra tried to find the fragment with the flushy thing again. She looked everywhere around her - but it seemed like she'd left it back home. Instead, she was holding a useless white shard.
She groaned. “What am I supposed to do now?!”
“Mwahaha.”
Great. It turned out she still had a vocal companion. She shoved the piece deep into her dress pockets; which she was very grateful for, by the way. Dresses with pockets always remained the superior.
She stood up, and tried to head down the path to somewhere else, preferably where she could fit in. She quickly bumped into a girl carrying a stack of letters, scattering them everywhere.
“I'm sorry!” Astra exclaimed, rushing to help pick them up.
The girl looked equally startled. “No, it's okay!” Astra had already finished though, and handed her the stack.
“Um. Thank you.” The girl hesitated before tilting her head and adding, “You looked lost… need help?”
Being a terrible liar, Astra just went with the truth. “Well, yes actually. …Know where Sunville is? I live there and…” She paused, not wanting to explain the toilet. “I'm trying to find my way back.” She finished.
“That's cool.” The girl said. “It's about half a day's walk there.”
Astra blew an air of relief. She waited for directions, glad that her home wasn't across the globe.
“I can lead you there.” The girl added, smiling. “My name's Lyra!”
“I'm Astra.” Huh, she hadn't expected a whole guided tour. But Lyra looked so excited, and she wasn't sure she could survive that long of a walk - so she just accepted the offer. “Thanks.”
Lyra nodded, and led her away.
Something in her eye bothered her though… so Astra decided it couldn't hurt to ask a small question.
“I really appreciate the help but… you're sure you're willing to ditch your job just to lead me?”
Lyra took the question by surprise. “I'm just… bored?” Realizing how unconvincing that was, she groaned. “Okay, fine. I wanted to impress someone; everybody pushes me off like I'm nothing. I swear you can still trust me though!”
Astra decided to cooperate, even though it stung a tiny bit that assisting her wasn't Lyra's main motive.
She shrugged. “Makes sense. That's a good enough explanation for me.”

SABOTAGE PROMPT: Positivity flood! Thank three SWC people.
To Willow_wonderful: Hi Rea! I'm back at you for the weekly, haha Thank you for being such an awesome fellow co-leader! You've been very dedicated to the cabin, and you're also a friendly and overall amazing person to work with! <3 /gen
To Caesious: HELLO CAE <3 i'm also here for the weekly! thanks for being the bestest leader ahh all your plans are so well thought out and you're a really amazing creative kind person /gen!
To Bellevue91: Heya Birdi! I wanted to say thank you for all your efforts to make SWC the amazing thing it is, you're a great host and make camp memorable /gen
To -redredrobin-: robin! hey! just stopping by to say that you're a fantastic host, thanks for all your hard work and dedication! great job with your first hosting session :0

For 250 words, your character feels a sudden burst of nostalgia and this mood is carried through the rest of the story (257)
For the next part of the walk, Astra remained silent. Sometimes she thought of bringing up a fun conversation, but the shy part of her told her not to. She barely talked to anybody anyway, and was partially afraid to display awkwardness. Plus, that toilet today had already been a pain to her introverted self. She hoped it didn't have feelings and especially opinions - being judged by a toilet would be a living nightmare. The way Lyra skipped, twirled and sung reminded her of her walk earlier. Right now, she didn't have the energy for that sort of thing. She kind of wished she did though… She also longed for the sweet air of dew-covered grass, the soft breeze, and a cloud spotted sky. Where they were traveling through, it was clear it hadn't rained for days, as the grass was quite withered and brown from the stubborn sun. It was much too hot, the temperature making her hair stick to her forehead and causing annoying beads of sweat to run down her neck. The sky was an almost-neon shade of blue, looking much too empty and unwelcoming. Taking a deep breath, she also found that the air was smelly - which led to her remembering her muffins. And the memory of the muffins reminded her that the oven was still on. Her much looked forward to treat was most likely as good as a rock, and the oven had a pretty moderate possibility of being on fire.
Astra let the nostalgia of better times fill her head.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: write a list of ten awesome things about someone impactful and give it to them (note given to irl friend)

Change an element of your characters' world into a fantastical element, 300 words. (317)
Eventually, Lyra cleared her throat, probably tired of the silence and ever-going rhythm of footsteps.
“So, er, Astra, how did you end up in my kingdom?” She asked.
She thought of crafting a careful story about visiting family. But she scraped it just as fast - she'd already been telling the truth this far, what was the point? And what if Lyra decided to question her? She had no clue what the kingdom was called. So, she started going on and on with a long explanation about her chaotic day. To put it short, she said something along the lines of this:
“Well, it began with me needing to use the bathroom. And then my toilet started talking, so I panicked and broke it into pieces with an old hammer. I was going to burn it or toss it down the canyon too, but it started acting up and teleported me places. So yeah, That's how I ended up in insert-kingdom-here.”
Her guide laughed, but not at the story like she expected. “Hah. Our kingdom is called Moonville.”
Astra managed a smile. “You don't think my story's junk?”
“Meh, no. It makes sense really, some of the craftsmen like sneaking magic powders into random items to surprise the customers.”
“Magic?” She repeated. The word rolled off her tongue in a strange way.
“Yeah. I've heard Sunville doesn't use it much, if ever.”
“We don't. Magic complicates things. I go most days without thinking of it.”
“Oh.” Lyra said. “Maybe the toilet came from Moonville. It's the largest kingdom within range, after all. And by the way, I disagree with that statement about magic, magic makes things easy! Want water?” She snapped her fingers and an iced jug of water appeared.
“That's really cool!” Astra exclaimed. “Does magic come naturally, or…?”
Lyra sat down on a nearby rock, waving her over for a rest stop. “No, it takes training.”

SABOTaGE PROMPT: do something creative for 15 minutes (i doodled <3)

For the next 15 minutes, work on one of your characters, and describe what makes them so special. (quick intervention from the story ahaha) (314)
Name, Astra Snow
Age, fifteen
Gender, female
Life motive,
Astra doesn't have much of an overall goal for her life. She has many small ones, of course, but she mostly just wishes for happiness and healthiness. She's good at self-care, and knows to take time for herself.
Story motive,
In the weekly that I slapped her into, she's trying to find a way back into her usual lifestyle, after it was disturbed by the toilet (Zai's idea, by the way - after that prompt, I didn't know what else to make of the story, so I turned it into a sparkly chaos dump!! This is mean positively and lightheartedly, I don't think I could've made it writing something long AND serious )
Back to the motive, Astra would prefer not to get messy. She'd also like to pretend the whole situation didn't happen.
Likes,
She loves the peaceful vibes of nature, and spends a lot of time in it. She also enjoys art and creative stuff. Her lifestyle is pretty much along the lines of “cottagecore”.
Fears,
Hates the dark, or rather what can be found in it. Specifically creepy, crawly things. She also dislikes anything dangerous, and has a slight fear of getting herself hurt (PAIN). She is also self aware and hates having the public think lowly of her. And of course, she fears change and likes her life the way it is - calm and easygoing.

Because I still have time, back to the story:
“Still cool, though.”
Lyra blushed, and snapped her fingers again to make two cups appear. She poured the water, her hand shaky and spilling little droplets all over the place. Neither of them minded, just because the coolness of the water was so refreshing against their overheating skin.
“Sooo. What other things do I not know about you or Moonville?” Astra asked, wanting to clear away her stupidity.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: go read for ten minutes (went scrolling through writing comp entries ;D)

For these five minutes, you will be changing your setting from clean to messy or messy to clean. (191)
“Not really much more.” Lyra said. With a small laugh, she added, “Life really just revolves around magic. I don't understand why other places don't use it as much as my kingdom.”
She didn't have much of a response for that, so she nodded.
The next few minutes were just heat-filled silence, and the awkward sound of slurping water.
Really wanting to break the awkwardness, as it was partially her fault, Astra brought up a suggestion. “Y'know, the grass here is really dead. Could you maybe bring some more water…?”
Lyra perked up. “That's a lovely idea.” Soon, they had a somehow running hose, which they used to lower the thirsty level of the grass.
“I have some seed packets too!” She said, pulling them out of thin air. “They're magic. That seems to be a theme today now, hm?” Her eyes glittered. Her passion for magic sure was real.
Soon, the dead grass around the rock they'd enjoyed their water picnic on was sprinkled with wildflowers. The grass was still pretty brown - it'd take some time for them to brighten up, but still, they were both proud of the clean-up.

SABOTAGE PROMPT: do nothing for fifteen minutes!

Write for 8 minutes, making sure a character the main character thought was dead, is actually alive. (231)
Lyra and Astra continue on their journey, once again settling into the silence. The rest of the path was just as dull and filled with dying grass - they wished they could stop and water all of it, but that'd take much too long. The sun soon began to dip lower in the sky. Lyra had assured her that they'd make it back shortly before nightfall… Astra sure hoped so, because the darkness frightened her. A lot…
At some point on their way, a cat blocked their way. It was orange and quite beaten-up. They were about to push it out of their minds and just walk around it, until Astra spotted the hot pink collar nestled around its neck.
“Wait.” She said, coming closer to read the tag.
Lyra looked worried. “Be careful! It could bite you.”
Instead, the cat settled for rubbing its face against her hands.
“The tag reads Pumpkin.” Astra announced. “That's my old cat's name. And… she ran away a couple years ago. She had a pink collar, just like this one. And she looked exactly the same!”
She blinked, shocked. “You're alive?!” After all those years, she'd expected her beloved cat to be defeated by the wilderness. But here she was.
‘Pumpkin’ mewled, asking for a big hug.
Lyra looked happy. “Guess we're taking the kitty with us,” She said, watching as Astra scooped it up.

Leave your story unresolved with a cliffhanger. Write 500 words to end your story. (631)
The rest of the way was spent playing with Pumpkin, for the most part. The poor cat looked hungry and dirty, but nonetheless happy to see its old owner. She would get a warm meal, a warm bed, and her loving owner back soon enough.
The sun continued its path, soon sinking behind the valley. Besides the heat, Astra was glad it was still summer, just because it meant longer days. The sky still glowed with warm colors, long after the actual sun's disappearance.
It must've been way past dinner, too. And she'd never had a snack. Her stomach growled angrily.
“Want food?” Lyra asked, noticing that the rumbling sound was coming from her.
Embarrassed, Astra replied with “No, it's fine.”
Her goal right now was to get home. Food, for now, was a want, not a need.
In the dimming light, she could still tell that they were close. The dead grass gradually became more colored, and more and more flowers sprung up with each step. Even the clouds were once again rolling off the sky. She silently said hello to them.
Soon, they reached the edge of the pathway in the meadow that Astra had just strolled in that morning.
“You live by a beautiful place.” Lyra complimented.
She nodded, definitely agreeing. She loved the color and greenness of it.
Her arms grew tired from carrying the cat.
“Do you have a string?”
“Not on me.” Lyra snapped and soon had a thin rope. “But now I do! What for? I hope it's not to strangle me.” She joked.
Astra laughed. “Haha, no.”
She set Pumpkin down, and she immediately began sniffing the surroundings. Astra would've been scared that her cat would leave her again, but she seemed too tired for that today. Whatsoever, she tied the rope around Pumpkin's collar, and began using it as a leash.
Lyra smiled. “So, your cat is a dog now.”
“Yup!”
Once again, their conversation just didn't seem to last, and was soon defeated with the noise of crunching grass.
The outline of her house lingered in the distance. Only a faint glow of the sunset remained, but it was enough to distinguish light from dark.
“Do you think you can make it home yourself from here?” Lyra said, voicing the thought she was too scared to ask.
“Yeah, I think I can.” She answered, pretty confident. “Will your parents be worried when you finally show up home in the middle of the night?”
“I doubt it. They… let me do whatever.” There was a hint of bitterness in her tone, which made Astra not want to ask further.
“Well, safe travels.” She whispered. “I'll miss you… Thank you for all the help you were willing to lend. I hope someone else is impressed by you - I sure am.”
Lyra grinned, her previous mood washed away. “Of course. And thanks for letting me, too. …Friends?”
Astra returned the smile. “Of course.”
“Mail me if you can.” Lyra pulled a sticky note from the air, written with her address. She placed it in Astra's pocket. “If you need more help with the toilet, just ask me!”
Astra nodded. “I think I'll just burn it. Well, goodbye.”
“Bye ~”
She watched Lyra's silhouette grow smaller with distance, before heading her own way home.
It was then that she realized the glow earlier was not the sunset, because it still lingered in the pitch-black darkness.
Her house was on fire, just as she'd suspected earlier. And forgotten.
So her threat was true. The toilet was definitely eaten by the fire - besides the fragment she had in her pocket.
“Wait! Lyra!” She shouted into the distance. How could she set out an entire house fire by herself?!
But she was already long gone, swallowed by the night.

SWC Weekly #3 ~ Fantasy! 3201 words total

Part 1 ~
Brainstorming / 136 words
Set in the mountains
It’s a big city
Small, kinda deserted village where everything is crusty
Food comes from each family’s garden
Children are viewed the same as adults
Everybody works 24/7 and play/relaxation is discouraged
Society is ruled by 6 kinda grumpy stuck-up people
Soft magic thing
Citizens are constantly doing stuff to be the most liked person
About half the citizens have magic, they’re viewed as scary but treated the same
It’s really polluted and animals are a rarity
The ruler(s) care a lot about nature, animals are common
The queen is a bit too nice and forgiving
Everyone hates goats!!!!! They’re a symbol of evil :(
No technology whatsoever
Mythical creatures are real
Mothers are highly respected
Harmonic and peaceful, no one is forced to do anything
Education is optional
Everyone is social

Connections using the bolded items / 304 words
The bustling city of Mushroom lies near the base of the mountains of Moorhsum. Unlike the icy caps, the mountains' bases offer whimsical, cottagecore blankets of meadows. The air there is described as crisp and sweet. And although conditions are perfect for farming, most families would rather keep small, personal gardens as their source of food.
The citizens of Mushroom are friendly and welcoming to travelers; and they get a lot of them too, due to the appealing setting. Mushroom has a loose social hierarchy, for the most part, everyone has the same worth. Children are viewed and expected to be as responsible as an adult would be.
The architecture in Mushroom is very unique, compared to other large cities on the Mainland - the reason for this being the fact that whole skyscrapers needed a way to safely rest on gentle slopes. This modern-ish setting is ruled by a queen… who is, perhaps, a bit too forgiving and overly soft on her laws. On the bright side, she ensures that her citizens live harmonically and peacefully - wars including Mushroom are rarely heard of. Another positive aspect is that the environment is kept nice and clean. Spotting a bunny on the road is common (and the drivers are all super careful). The only living thing really hated upon are goats. They're viewed as a symbol of evil, because they eat everyone's stuff. Anybody keeping a goat as a pet would most definitely be glared upon.
Perhaps one last notable thing about Mushroom would be its magic - there are a million and a half citizens, and half those people possess magic from birth. There are no rules dividing magic people from non-magic people, nor discrimination. There are few rules on when and how magic may be performed. The non-magic-ers just think of them as slightly freaky.


Narrative / 537 words
We've been traveling along the shadows of the mountains for days now - so of course, while I was towing my still-sleeping younger sister Lilla in a wagon, my loud gasp at the sight of a city awakened her.
“What is it this time?” She muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact that she was not asleep. “If you're just scared of another itsy, bitsy, tiny spider, Ella, you don't need to be that lou– oooooooooh.”
She stared at the towering, silver buildings in awe. “They're pretty.” She said, rubbing out the sleep from her eyes.
I smirked. “So you want to be awake now, huh? I should get you to repay me for finally finding a restock station. Or you could get out of there and walk now.”
Lilla hopped out, causing the old red wagon to make a long creeeeaak. She hummed and skipped along the dew-covered grass, pausing too often to bend over and pick a flower, stopping her song to say things like “Eee! Pretty!!”, before using her magic to make them bloom and wither, over and over again.
I didn't understand how even a six year old could be this hyper two minutes after waking up grumpy from a nap in an uncomfortable position. Soon enough, I had to jog to catch up.

It didn't take long to find the gates to the city. Having grown up in a city, I found it mildly weird that a city even had gates. They were glass, or some other clear material, the bars curving into spirals and loops. Beams of sunlights bounced around them, creating tiny rainbows on the ground. I liked these gates, even if it made no sense that they existed, or that they were wide open.
And so me and Lilla walked in - to meet a well dressed lady who “happened to be walking by”. That wasn't very believable after she introduced herself as the queen, and that Mushroom - the city they were in - welcomed travelers. Even random, non-magics who had been told they were worthless in the past. (Cough cough, me. Not Lilla though. I've already described her playing with the flowers in the meadow.)
“Gates and a queen, city-like, and no security?” I told Lilla.
She shrugged. “…Unique place, hm?”
Unique was quite the word. Nonetheless, I agreed. “Just don't use your magic yet. We don't need stranger's opinions on the fact that you can, but I can't.”
Lilla looked a bit disappointed, but she gave a small nod.
We'd been walking down the sidewalk for a couple minutes now, admiring the impressive architecture until we started noticing that the passersby were waving at us. Even some people on their rooftops, looking like they were busy tending to plants or gardens, shouted “Hello”. Hoping we didn't look funny, I gave them a small smile.
“The queen's right about being welcoming, then.” My little sister smiled.
It was only when a wild goat raced through the road that the people turned their attention away. I almost expected them to start waving and greeting the goat too, but they said things that were probably fueled by anger, shaking their fists until the goat went out the gates.
“Evil things!!!” A shop owner shouted.


Part 2 ~

What kind of magic is used in your world?
Excluding the various laws and restrictions, magic in this world would most likely be categorized as soft magic. How often magic is used really depends from person to person. After all, not everybody in a large society is going to like a certain thing. Seven billion people on earth who all have an addiction with the color hot pink would be… interesting. Some prefer not to use it at all, for reasons such as fear and the fact that they might be bad at magic, and others use it every other second just because it makes things faster and convenient. (100 words)

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
There are a few (rather loose) laws on magic, put there for safety reasons. They're rarely disobeyed by anybody, except those who are purposefully being criminals.
- No using magic on other people without consent.
- Be careful with your amount of use, so you don't accidentally burn yourself out.
- Don't use magic for the purpose of violence.
There are a couple more along the lines of those three. Anybody who does cause chaos or breaks the law would either have to clean up/undo whatever happened, or, if it's irreversible, be sentenced to some other labor for… a long time. There isn't a jail in this world, the leaders aren't exactly the type of people that believe prisoners spend time sitting against a wall reflecting on their mistakes. Opposingly, they think that prison time could be used for scheming. (138 words)

What is the origin of your magic?
A very long, undocumented time ago, sparkly space material held inside a bursted bubble rained upon the Earth. Anyone touched now possessed basic magic, congrats! Good for them. Unfortunately, a few people slept through the whole event and did not receive magic sparkly space material. Yes, they were now called Unfortunates. They weren't looked down upon, as many folklore suggest, but rather received a lot of sympathy for them and their future family (magic passes down to children, apparently.) Fast-forward to the year where science was booming. A group of scientists invented wands that granted the user additional elemental magic. (100 words)

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
As explained in the previous answer, most people have magic, a small, sleepy percentage don't (roughly 99.2% to 00.8%). Because it's just that common, all characters know that they possess magic. If they don't, there are three reasons why!!
1. They don't actually have magic (boohoo.)
2. Their mommies never bothered to tell them
3. They're orphans who never bothered to test
Moving on - most people possess something called “common magic”. It allows them to do anything that's not elemental magic, really. Elemental magic is manually obtained through (really, really, really) pricy wands. About a tenth of the population has wands, due to the amount they cost. Also, they come with no insurance, so if someone were to lose their wand, there goes their money. (125 words)

How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalized part of your world?
I'll ensure the realism part by making sure that being overpowered is super rare, and is only given to the mega-rich who bought all the wands. Magic would be normalized through the way society reacts. For example, in real life, nobody will question you if you have black hair - it'd just be like that, magic doesn't make you famous or shamed. Nobody's super shocked or creeped out. And besides from the magic part, everything about our real world would be incorporated, from tax issues, diversity, and languages to the fact that trees and frogs and tree frogs exist. (98 words)

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
I've said it multiple times before, but no elemental magic if you don't possess a wand. Other than that, having magic is like a sport or skill - not everybody is an expert, skill has to be earned through hard work and practice. Also like a sport or a skill, burnout occurs. If you were to draw or play football for hours on end, it's leave you very, very exhausted and your magic may get out of control (being careful was a law). (82 words)

How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Most likely ordinary normal, and to a few, a “blessing from outer space”. Some people have separate views, like the Unfortunates getting jealous or those wanting to possess a wand think the rich are selfish. Having a wand may or may not make one more respected or envied. Those more powerful with magic can be feared, as well as being thought of as “wise”. So yeah, sometimes it can depend on the situation, but for the most part magic in society is as normalized as having a mailbox. (88 words)

Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
Having magic could make someone more… lazy? As in, if you have telekinesis, why get up to get the remote, or if you can float, why walk - that sort of thing. If you want to view it differently, magic makes things faster and more efficient. With the absence of it in this world, many would be unfamiliar with working more. And lastly, magic holds society up, in a way. Farming is made easier by hiring someone with a nature wand, droughts never occur because someone with a water wand can just wave it and solve the issue. (97 words)

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
The education in this world would, in short, be just like our own. Minors are forced to attend, and they're educated on the usual, such as reading, writing, math, history. Even science is still taught, although some rules and whatnot have to be bent/removed with the existence of magic. Magic is even discouraged, to prevent trouble and cheating. It would overall be banned, but you can't really tear away magic, especially since accidental usings are common. Anybody clearly purposefully using magic would be subjected to detention. (87 words)

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
Yep! The world is ruled by the three most powerful people, or those having the most wands / complete control over common magic. They're commonly addressed as The Three Powerful Rulers. There's no way to really determine who's most powerful, so that title is really just decided by what the public thinks. The people are swapped out every ten years, where an election occurs. It's possible to serve multiple terms. Of course, there is a lot of objection and hate to this system. Mostly because the most powerful aren't necessarily the best rulers. (92 words)


Part 3 ~

Dystopian Fantasy (545 words)
It was all a matter of not knowing. A mistake.
I was six. Walking home alone along on the streets, the last of the orange-streaked sunset dipping into the fog of black. I coughed from the smoke and pollution that the government pushed aside. There was a lady, lurking in the shadows - she waved me over into an alleyway. I was just an innocent child with no understanding of what was suspicious and bad, and what was dangerous and what I should run from. I barely knew my address. So I followed the lady, entranced by her voice and pretty, flaming red hair. The alley offered more comfort than what my little brain expected. She told me her name was Kat, and my name was Feli. I nodded, thinking it was normal for everyone to know my name. She asked me if I wanted to learn magic with her. Not knowing that what I was about to do was very illegal, I excitedly agreed. Magic - I remembered it from movies shown to me as a toddler, movies that were now long banned. Glitter and sparkles, creating rainbows, what first grader wouldn't be all hyped up?
She taught me how to spark a flame, with nothing but my hands and inner energy that night.
She told me “Good job.”
She told me I would do great things when I was older.
I ran home excitedly. The beat-up, dirt smeared buildings that had never been funded to be cleaned glistened in the moonlight, but soon turned into a blur behind me. I knocked on my front door. My mum was there to greet me with questions about why I was an hour late home. I showed her a flame, dancing on my fingertip. I turned it to all colors of the rainbow with my willpower, shrieking excitedly about “Mum! Mum! I can do magik!!” She looked genuinely happy for me at first, but before she tucked me into bed, I noticed the crease between her brows. She only did that when she was worried.
I asked her what was wrong.
She told me, in a soft and sorry tone:
“Feli, dear. Magic is outlawed in our world. If the government discovered your ability, you'll be locked behind bars.
Darling, be careful…”

-

Ten years later, I'm indeed now behind bars.
It was an unfortunate accident really, a flash of magic in my bedroom. Where government-installed cameras happened to be hiding. No one came to my defense, besides mum.
My prison is dark and damp. My white-hot fire is the only light. They told me I would be left alive if I was lucky. They told me being here for a lifetime, alone, was the best scenario.
I had a better idea, of course. I always did. I could tell, in the dim light, that the floor was wood. For once, the government’s carelessness came into handy. Slowly, a rebellious grin on my face, I moved my fire towards the floor.
Who cared what everyone told me, and forgive and forget? I would never.
Who cared about my past mistakes? I could wash them over now and start with a white canvas.
Who cared if the world burned? We’ll build a better one from the ashes.


Science Fantasy (319 words. Was going to be a lot longer but I got lazy)
“Are we there yet?” I ask, for probably the sixth time that day.
“No, darling. It's only been a hundred years, which is barely any time in the realm of space.”
“Long enough for grandma to give birth to you, and you to age enough to give birth to me, and plus another ten years because I'm ten.” I muttered.
“You'd be lucky if we reached another galaxy in your lifetime.”
It was with those words that I finally stopped questioning our arrival.
Our spaceship consisted of solely witches and wizards, in search of other universes suitable for life. The humans back on Earth said they'd chosen us specifically, because we were stronger. Grandma said they laughed. Sometimes, we think that's just a crusty musty excuse for getting rid of us, because we were different. The way humans used to treat magic practitioners proved that rather well. But we were an adventurous and desperate human-hating bunch, so we took up the challenge.
The ship was built like a giant, floating house - it had normal gravity, normal air, normal everything. Nobody wore spacesuits. Scientifically, that was impossible and we would all be dead, but a little magic goes a long way. When the ship was introduced to the public, there was a lot of glaring. In my opinion, I think a lot of people were jealous, and decided they wanted to come if the conditions were that good.
I sighed and floated back to my room. Even though gravity existed, walking was boring. I stared out of the round windows for a long time, studying the sparkling blackness beyond. Nothingness, colorless, empty space in every direction. Sometimes I wondered if there really was anything else out there - and if there wasn't, what could we even do about it? The thought of the rest of the generations of witches and wizards stranded in a floating house for eternity hurt my heart.

Hidden Worlds (338 words)
It began with them enjoying ice-cream in the park.
In the shade of a half-dead tree, Liv and Zia were chatting away.
“Did you see the new boy yesterday? Eeee!”
“What was your response to question 539 on that homework due tomorrow?”
“Yum, this blueberry ice-cream is delicious.”
“I dyed my cat pink! She looks sooo cute!”
“YUM, this blueberry ice-cream is delicious!!!!!”
Yeah, stuff like that. They were quite the average middle schoolers, obsessed with quite the average things. They had a nice, healthy bond. Nobody thought anything of them, except for a few thinking they were loud. And the guy dressed in all black, his face covered by shadows, lurking behind the half-dead tree and waiting for the perfect moment to kidnap them.
Liv and Zia ignored a lot of things.
The dark clouds that kept gathering above their heads.
That time Mr. Kidnapper sneezed, and was about to run off.
And that the rest of the park had noticed Mr. Kidnapper, and had left, leaving silence, except for Liv and Zia.
Basically, the two best friends ignored every single warning sign in the universe that hinted that they should get out of there fast. They just carried on their conversation, eating cold, creamy sugar like the world was absolutely fine. That they were fine.
They weren't.
Mr. Kidnapper reached for both the girl's wrists, shouting “You both are SO dumb!” and wrapping them both in a metallic force field bubble. Liv screamed just a little louder than Zia. Then the bubble started spinning at unearthly rates, and the friends were flailing like fish on land. The bubble eventually disappeared completely, reappearing in a new destination with a loud pop.
Zia raised her volume with the screaming once she realized they were above Earth. Like, in the clouds.
Their kidnapper shook his head viciously, very disappointed with the two.
“I've tried getting you two to come here on your own will, many, many, times. Too bad you both were so ignorant, because violence became the answer.”

daily > july 6th . 700 words exactly . +800

sagittarius i mostly used that answer in the wind thing

-

Today marks the fifth day I've officially declared myself lost, and the week-anniversary of the fire. I'm leaned against a tree now, my once-pale pink dress gathering mud and twigs. In my hand is a pencil, and in my lap is a scrap of paper - I'm glad that I have them, and intend to send a message for help. But at the same time it's disappointing to see that pollution has made it so far into the woods. I sit and stare at the sky, thinking carefully how I should word my plea. The pencil had no eraser.
Nature doesn't acknowledge that I exist. The infinite cycle of the woods ignores my pain and struggle, staying silent and unfamiliar. I don't mind too much, it's my fault I ended up here anyway. Technically, not really, as I don't actually know what set the fire. Honestly, it could still be burning bright and bold and I'd have no idea. The thought alone shattered my heart, making me feel cold inside, but I thank the weather that reality is decently warm. Finally, my hand decides it's time to write.

Dear whoever this ends up to,
I'm not quite sure what to ask of you, besides “help”, so I'll let you figure that part out, if you'd like. You don't even have to assist me if you don't feel like it, it's really okay. After all, you're likely a complete stranger, why should you care about a girl so… random? It would be slightly appreciated if you could give this to someone who actually knows me though… I'm not sure I can survive alone much longer. So anyway, onto my situation:
There's been a fire at my home. It is, or rather was, a little cottage not far from the border of the woods surrounding Town - if you know where that is. I was terrified at that moment, I couldn't find anyone or anything - so, I ran away. It's probably my biggest regret now. I doubt that any of my family is alive.
Now here in the present, I'm still wandering what I think is the woods surrounding Town. I'm afraid to stray too far, but I can't find my way back home, so I must've anyway. So to put it simply, I'm lost. But alive.

I run out of room, so I hoped, hoped, hoped that was enough and ended the note on
With many thanks, Cora Bloom
If you wish to mail be back, throw your letter into the wind,
whisper my name, and hope that it arrives.
(It's something my mother taught me…)

When the next strong breeze came by, I threw the paper into it, and whispered, “Anyone. Please.”
I watched my “letter” float higher and higher, above the tallest trees, and soon out of sight.

-

The next morning, I'm awoken with a cool, sharp wind. My insides fluttered with hope, as the world blinked into focus. In the air is a sage-green envelope, sealed with a golden stamp. It flutters into my hand, and I open it:

Dear Cora,
Your name sounds familiar - my mind wants to connect it to an old elementary school memory. Does the name Christine sound familiar… ?
Anyway, of course I'm willing to help you. Mr. Socks (my cat) and I may have been confused when your letter dropped onto him, and my memory totally may be mixed up (elementary feels so long ago, even though I'm only a highschooler!), but that's okay.
I happened to have a map of the woods you mentioned floating in my drawer. It seemed like the best way to lend a hand. I've attached a compass too.
Sincerely, Christine Nah

I peered into the envelope - sure enough, a folded-up map and tiny compass remained inside. I smiled, and wrote a reply on the back of the envelope:

Dear Christine,
Thank you. So, so much. By the way, I do recognize your name! We used to be playground besties, remember our hideout beneath the slide?
~ Cora

-

Later that afternoon, on my journey back to civilization, I received one last letter -

Dear Cora, anytime. I would still love to be your playground bestie, but for now, safe travels friend! ~ C.N.

-

daily > july 4th . 566 words . +700
vague - 305 words
The cool comfort of the ice cream shop was welcoming, as opposed to the heat outside. Cynthia was ready to order her usual chocolate with sprinkles and a cherry on top, until she looked up and realized that today, her older brother was the one at the counter.
At first Cynthia carried a hint of doubt, but the too-colorful name tag reading “Sam” confirmed her theory. So, she went with a much, much better plan.
“What would you like today, Cynthi?” Sam asked, with a rather tired and mostly bored tone.
Cynthia plastered on her brightest, most innocent smile. “Some ice-cream.” she said.
“Mhm. What type?” Sam continued, not quite catching on yet.
“Maybe something cold. And sugary!”
Sam rolled his eyes, muttering something like “I don't get paid enough for this.” He reached for the closest tub to him, strawberry.
“What type of cup or cone, and how many scoops?” Sam said.
“Something with a round top, perhaps. Oh, and more than zero!” Cynthia requested, holding back giggles.
Sam scowled, and grabbed a soup spoon. Wherever that came from, Cynthia had no idea. He plopped half a scoop of the strawberry ice-cream into the spoon.
“And thankfully lastly, any toppings?” This time, he fully expected what type of a response he'd get from his sister.
“A spoonful of anything smaller than two inches.” she finished.
Sam smirked. At least that excluded the waffle cone chunks. This time, he dressed her half-scoop with a generous squeeze of a lemon.
If Cynthia was disgusted, she hid it well.
“That'll be twenty-six thousand dollars.” Sam announced, handing his customer the soup spoon, and glad the scene was almost over.
Cynthia took it by the handle, paid the five dollars on the screen, and walked out of the shop and into the heat.
She didn't even tip Sam.
ambiguous - 261 words
“So, hi! Why'd you invite me over today?” I asked my best friend Lia.
She shrugged. “I thought we could work together on the homework. I didn't tell you at school because Ms. McName said it was against the rules.”
“Okay.” I let her lead me to the kitchen, when a lumpy pile of wiggling pink blankets caught my eye.
“What's that?” I asked.
Lia blinked. “A lumpy pile of pink blankets. Now I have questions for you: how did you not know that, and why do you ask?”
It was my turn to blink cluelessly. “Of course I knew that was a blanket. I mean, what's in it?”
“Oh!” Lia laughed. “Ha. I'm sorry. That's my new puppy, Flextape. The one I've been talking all day about.” She pulled back the blankets to show a brown, sleeping ball of fluff.
I laughed with her. “Oh, Flextape is so cute!”
Lia smiled. “He's been too busy playing lately, so this is his first time sleeping peacefully for hours.”
I gasped. “He's been sleeping for hours? Isn't that a bit long? Should we wake him up?”
“No, silly. I meant that as in he didn't sleep for the last five hours!” Lia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Anyway, take a seat.”
I shrugged. “Strange request, but okay.”
I rubbed my hands together and lifted one of Lia's heavy, cushioned green dining chairs, preparing to take it to the door and eventually home with me. When I turned around, I saw that my friend was facepalming with Flextape on her lap.

daily > july second . 741 . +600
a quick note - my question the the ball was “will my character drop an important thing”, and the reply was “reply hazy try again”. i wasn't sure what to do with that answer, so i made rosie drop the bottle anyway, but make it not entirely her fault that it broke :sparkles:
“You're such a slow climber,” Melody teased, watching her friend follow her from the tippy-top of a tree.
Rosie laughed and continued to pull herself upwards, feeling the ground shrink away from her. The fluffy clouds that streaked the dull blue sky came closer, and Rosie wondered if she'd ever come close enough to reach out and touch them. The distance between her and her destination still remained very far away, so for the moment, it wasn't too impossible.
Meanwhile, Melody swung her legs back and forth over the edge of her perch, humming a cheery tune and letting her soft green eyes drink in the view. A meadow of flowers, of every type and color that she could imagine, surrounded the lonely tree for who knew how far - so, so far, that Melody began to ponder over how an amazingly sturdy, strong tree could've just spawned in the middle of nowhere.
At last, Rosie's delicate hand finally wrapped around the branch her friend was on. She hoisted her body into a sitting position, and struggled to smooth her dress as Melody smiled excitedly.
“Yay! You have no idea how long I was waiting. Guess that means I win the race.” Melody said, adding a playful smirk. She held her hand next to Rosie's, comparing the two, and sighed. “Well, you made it here slowly, but safely. There's not even a single scratch on you, and I swear that not even a strand of your hair's messed up.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but smiled. “So I win in that category!”
For the next few minutes, the young girls remained sitting on the treetop, silent and simply enjoying the glory of an excellent view. Time ticked by without either of them noticing much. It wasn't until the strong scent of a few wildflowers carried on the wind past Rosie's nose, that she finally came back to her senses and prepared to tell Melody that it was time to leave.
However, as she turned, a bright glow nestled between bold spring-green leaves caught her eye. Curious, she reached for it, not even knowing if it was a solid form. Luckily, it was, in the shape of a bottle - a tiny, round bottle, perhaps the size of a strawberry.
“Melody, look at this!” Rosie whispered eagerly.
Melody gasped. “That's - woah. What is it?”
Rosie was about to say a bottle of pure light, and add a duh for attitude, until she looked closer and realized there was actually something golden, flapping, and living inside of the bottle.
“It's… a butterfly.” She breathed.
And yes it was. It's tiny yet grand wings were coated with the most wondrous, and somehow regal light. Rosie had never seen anything of the kind, and it was quite safe to assume that Melody hadn't either.
Melody's eyes widened. “Can I have a closer look?”
“Of course!” Rosie replied, almost guilty that she hadn't offered first.
But as she passed the bottle over, her fingers somehow slipped - and the magnificent artifact she barely knew anything of slipped to the ground. A startled shriek slipped through her lips, as she frantically grabbed for it, nearly falling off the branch… and failed.
The ground was very far away. Nor Rosie or Melody bothered to dive for it - they only watched in silence. It wasn't the same comfortable and peaceful silence they'd had just a couple minutes earlier - this time, it was stunned, and maybe even fearful.
Each second seemed a thousand seconds long, and the world stood still as the bottle and butterfly fell. Even with the soft grass, the distance was enough to crack it - without a doubt.
But then, just a few inches from the ground, the bottle stopped. It hovered in the air, bobbing up and down just the slightest.
“It… stopped?” Melody squeaked. “As in stopped falling, is now still in the air, and… won't break?” There was a brush of too much hope on her last few words. Enough hope to jinx the situation.
Because at that moment, a strong wind swept through the meadow. Strong enough to knock the bottle out of whatever magic it was in. And strong enough to send it forcefully tumbling to the ground. Just like that, the bottle cracked - just a thin, jagged line across the center. The light of the butterfly seeped through, until blinding white was all that could be seen.

･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･ luna’s table of contents ･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･

☆ m a i n c a b i n w r i t i n g || . : ･ ｡ﾟ

✰ dailies

07.01.22 || introduce yourself || 1065 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6427538/
07.02.22 || magic 8 ball || 1323 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6431133/ || 600 pts
07.03.22 || compliment your mirror || 366 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6433067/ || 400 pts
07.04.22 || vague vs ambiguous || 708 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6435800/ || 700 pts
07.05.22 || proverbs || 514 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6437789/ || 400 pts
07.06.22 || horoscopes || 534 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6440381/ || 800 pts
07.07.22 || three word stories || completed
07.08.22 || translated lyrics || 650 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6444945/ || 500 pts
07.09.22 || cabin wars || total 6802 words written today!
07.10.22 || wordle || took a writing break, writing 6k+ words yesterday burnt me out :’)
07.11.22 || emotional narrative || 576 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6451884/ || 800 pts
07.12.22 || map || unable to provide proof || 400 pts
07.13 - 07.17 || extreme burnout / writers block, took a break </3
07.18.22 || swc fairytale fanfiction || 604 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6465622/ || 900 pts
07.19.22 || no settings || 517 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6468270/ || 500 pts

✰ weeklies

week 01 || fanfiction || 2895 words || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6447566/ || 3000
part 01 || character consistency || 599 words
part 02 || character voice || 937 words
part 03 || tropes in fan-fi || 797 words
part 04 || swc fanfiction || 562 words

week 04 || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6496377/ unfinished

☆ o t h e r w r i t i n g || . : ･ ｡ﾟ

✰ swc related

cabin wars
07.09.22 || non-fi war || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6445541/ || 1057
07.09.22 || thriller war || https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6445669/ || 1002
07.09.22 || other wars today || words from various different places ahah

writing competition
coming soon!

✰ personal writing

07.01.22 || 1019 words || ~150 words each descriptions of characters for a story
07.09.22 || 684 words || working on my story for cabin wars
07.09.22 || 372 words || a story plan for cabin wars

July 2: “Is this real?”
“Reply hazy; ask again later.”

I blink and rub my eyes. Wherever I am feels like a fever dream, but I can’t distinguish anything around me. I feel cold hands press against my wrists and hold me down to a piercing cold surface. I try to twist, but the hands press into me, deeper still.
“Where am I?” I rasp, surprised at how sore my voice sounds.
“Somewhere you won’t be able to escape,” a drole female voice says. A pause. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me over the past few years?”
Few years? I think back- but something stops me from it, like a brick wall against my senses. I remember the dark street and the pain. I remember the honor I felt before I was moved, but everything else seems to fall into the abyss that is my mind.
“Who are you?” I ask. My question falls heavy on the ground with a thud that only I could hear.
“Wouldn’t you love to know that?” the voice says. I can hear the smirk in her voice and I’m sure she’s pleased to keep me hanging.
“I don’t know what you want from me!” I say. I can sense the untold questions on the tip of her tongue, dying to ask me about what I know. “Please! Let me go and I’ll find out what you want!”
“Well that would be especially convenient for me, wouldn’t it?” the voice said. I see a hazy figure standing above me and I realize that there is more than one person standing in the room with me. But even these thoughts tumble around in my mind until they are nothing except the faintest whisp of memory.
“What do you want with me?”
“Things that you cannot yet fulfill,” the voice answers.
And I try again- one last question, hoping to get the smallest sliver of an answer, to tell me that this is just a dream. Just something from my subconsciousness. Not real at all, though the pain feels more real than anything I’ve felt before.
“Why?” The word gets caught on my throat, scraping the insides of me and I sense that I’ll be going under again.
“There are many things I want,” the voice says. “None of them concern you.”
“For the most part,” a new voice says, a deeper, husky voice somewhere to my left. Or possibly right. I couldn’t tell.
“I think it’s time,” the original voice says.
“Yes, but make it quick. We can’t risk anyone finding out- about anything.”

July 3: A few years ago I had this friend (who I’m gonna call Patricia for the sake of this story), who was one of the legit nicest people I’ve ever met in middle school. She was also probably the first friend that I made (but this is getting sentimental, so let’s move on). The problem was, she never brought any food of any sort to school. During study hall, when you were allowed to take out snacks and such, she never brought anything and during lunch she didn’t bring any food with her, nor any money to buy a lunch. So, me and a few of our other friends who noticed put together some money to buy her a twenty dollar Subway gift card for her birthday. On her birthday we decorated her locker with streamers and sticky notes and pictures (as one does in middle school), and gave it to her. One of her other friends bought her a batch of those micro-cupcake things that you can buy at any grocery store. So then for the next few days either Patricia would bring Subway for lunch or one of her friends would bring it with them and then give it to her at lunch if she couldn’t pick it up herself. Afterwards, since twenty dollars won’t really feed you for a year, we started taking turns bringing extra snacks and food for her in our bags during the day so she wouldn’t be hungry during the school day. One of our friends got school lunch nearly everyday and brought some extra money with her to get Patricia chips or applesauce or other snacks like that on days when she didn’t have food. And that was probably one of the kindest things that I (with the help of many others) have done.

July 5:
“Shoot for the moon, you’ll at least land among the stars.”
Faye took these words quite literally as she adjusted her helmet, and zipped up the sleeves on her navy space suit.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” a voice asks and Menelaus, Faye’s friend walks up.
“Yes, for the last time, I’m doing a quick look at the moon, gathering a few rocks, investigating whatever substance was found there, eating some space noodles and going home.” Faye said, laughing.
“Yeah, you’re really not reassuring me.” Menealus says. “Whatever mysterious substance? Come on Faye, this isn’t to be joked about!”
“Oh lighten up,” Faye said. “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, fine as always.”
“Well-”
“I gotta go,” she interrupted. “See you in the morning!”
Menelaus watched her leave, already knowing that she wouldn’t be coming back.

Hours later, Faye was flying through a silver and violet galaxy, stars twinkling all around her and a huge grey orb only miles ahead of her. She gasped at each new thing she saw, still in shock that she was one of the few people chosen each decade to come here.
The engine of the rocket was of a new design, using different types of power and fuel to keep it moving all the way towards the moon, without much need for control. It seemed to be working pleasantly, and all Faye could hear was the quiethummm of the motor as the moon came closer and closer in view.
But it was all too good to be true and just moments before the rocket landed on the rocky surface of the moon, the engine stopped- suddenly, harshly and too fast to be good.
“Oh come ON!” Faye yelled.
The engine clearly didn’t like that as it whirred and spontaneously jerked back, sending Faye flying- hitting the back of the rocket. And the rocket- as if it had a mind of it’s own soared away from the moon and directly into the sun.

Virgo Horoscope
I incorporated the end of this prompt, about knowing what others are thinking into this story.

“Metis, would you care to answer?” Professor Vereto asked, sneering at Metis’s messy desk.
“Huh? Wait- what was the question?” Metis asked. Cue the sounds of people snickering. Cue the loud and obnoxious thoughts about what an attention-seeker Metis was.
“I asked,” Professor Vereto said icily. “When the Dragons of the Northern Wind first attacked the-”
“1684,” Metis interrupted.
The professor’s thoughts turned sour, but he nodded squarely at Metis. “Very good, I’m glad you’ve been paying attention.”
Little know-it-all. his brain murmured.
“Sir, I can hear you!” Metis said, without looking up.
Professor Vereto turned. “Metis,” he said, his teeth gritted. “We’ve talked about this. It is a privilege to be here. If you keep eavesdropping on other people’s thoughts, we’ll have to discuss this with your parents.”
“Yes,” Metis said, rolling her eyes. “We have talked about this. And I thought that you wouldn’t want me to bring it up in front of the class, but I can’t stop myself from reading people’s thoughts. So yes,” she turned to address the class. “I can hear everything you’re thinking about me. And each other. Who knew your thoughts were as boring as this class?”
She could hear their panicked thoughts rushing to shield themselves from the weird girl who didn’t belong at this school anyway.
“METIS! That’s enough!” Professor Vereto said. “Please see me in my office after class. We have no place for such behavior at this school!”
Yeah, yeah. Metis had been hearing about how much of a privilege it was to attend the school since she arrived. The ‘Academy of Magic’, which was the most basic name ever if you asked Metis, was this underground school, where they put the most ‘gifted’ middle schoolers and taught them about history and spellwork. They rarely actually got to do magic, but Metis didn’t care anyways.

Hours later, or what felt like hours at the very least, class was over and Metis trudged over to Professor Vereto’s office, where the teacher was sitting, his hands folded on top of his desk. “Come in Metis,” he said. “I’m afraid we need to talk about your ah… actions in our classroom.”
“So?” Metis said, taking a seat on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs facing Professor Vereto’s desk. She could already tell where this conversation was heading.
“Metis,” the professor said. “I’m… incredibly sorry to say that, if this behavior keeps up, we may need to expel you.”
“Expel me?” Metis repeated. “Please, for doing what?” As far as she knew, she hadn’t done anything outside the rules, but the answer was already forming in Professor Vereto’s mind.
“For reading the minds of others without explicit permission, talking back to your professors and causing a scene in the middle of class.” he replied smoothly.
“I told you-” Metis said, standing up off of her chair. “That I can’t help it. I don’t know how to block thoughts!”
“We both know that’s not true.”
Metis didn’t know what else to say. “Fine, whatever. Expel me or something.” she snapped, turning her heel and storming out of the office.
Oh Metis, Professor Vereto’s thought after her. I most certainly will.

July 10:
Words: Tubes, Fling, Champ, Wordy, Berth

Emmaline’s hands flew as she carefully assembled the requested robot, twisting the screws along the panel of metal which would serve as the main source of the power.
Hundreds of people came to her each day, hoping to get a tiny piece of her work, but very few left with anything. Even now, late in the night, when Emmaline was supposed to be sleeping, people waited outside of her workshop, asking for robots and complicated machines to make their lives easier.
Emmaline didn’t have the heart to say no, but it drained her, more than she wanted to admit, filling in request after request with so many different machines.
Her workshop, which overlooked the lake, next to the berth, was supposed to be a large and comfortable place for Emmaline to work, but after months of working and not enough time to clean, it had turned… messy to say the very least. Tubes, tools, and random pieces of machine littered the floor along with dozens of coffee-stained cups that kept Emmaline awake late into the night, at work.
She muttered to herself as she worked, flinging a scrap piece of metal into the corner, hopefully a piece that she’d be able to reuse for another project. She twisted a piece of thick wire into place and then hauled the robot to the corner. In a couple of hours, she would need to wrap the entire thing in a thin sheet of metal and then she’d be able to give it to the person who requested it.
Emmaline rubbed her eyes. Surely, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to get a few hours of rest and then get right back to work as soon as she got up. Though if she did that she’d have even more requests to fulfill when she awoke. She glanced at the pile of pillows in the corner longingly.
“Just one more request,” she told herself. “Just one more and then I can finally get some sleep.”
She shuffled toward the door of her workshop where people had, oh so graciously, left sticky notes and papers taped to the door, filled and scribbled with orders from customers who just wanted more and more handcrafted things all made by the ‘one and only Emmaline’.
She grabbed the first one she saw, a neon pink sticky note filled with an untidy scrawl. The note was super wordy and requested a machine with way too many materials that Emmaline wouldn’t be able to get until morning. She stuck it back to the door, promising herself she would start on it as soon as she had the supplies.
But then another note caught her eye. It was a simple index card, filled top to bottom with words in a tiny print and at first Emmaline considered putting it back, for most notes like that involved machines with too many complications, but she read through the note anyway. It read,
To the wondrous Emmaline,
I’d like to let you know that everyone in town appreciates what you do. Your work is exceptionally phenomenal and as flawless as I have ever seen. However I have encountered a problem that may affect the quality of your work.
You don’t take a single moment for yourself.
Never.
Not once in the eight years that you’ve been doing this.
Late in the middle of the night, your lights are on while you hammer away inside, building another amazing structure. From the crack of dawn you’re screwing a piece onto the latest machine that you’ve created.
But it’s time for a break. I don’t know when you’re reading this, but I request you to take some time for yourself. Take a nap, read a book, binge the latest series, go on a walk or do literally anything that’s not meant for someone else.
Consider this my request to you.

Sincerely,
A concerned admirer

And Emmaline smiled, her first real smile in days. If this was her request, it would be the first one she’d enjoy in over three years. And without hesitation she lay down and drifted off into a calm and peaceful slumber.

July 12: My character Calista would be tea if she was a hot drink.

July 2: Hi, I'm Piggy and this is my ninth session of SWC! I've been in /nine/ different cabins with multiple different genres such as Contemporary, Dystopian, Historical Fiction, Thriller and a bunch of others that I can't remember. >< This is my first time in Fan-Fi. I've considered signing up to be a leader/co-leader before, but I enjoy being a camper more, because there's not as much responsibility to be on all the time and also, during the school year (March and September) I'm super busy throughout most of the day and I wouldn't have much time. In the summer I'm usually gone for a week or so on vacation. My favorite things about SWC are being able to get prompts and ideas from other creative writers and being able to incorporate that into my stories. I also enjoy getting points for writing instead of just doing it whenever I have a few minutes to spare. I'm super excited for this session! Go Fan-Fi!

July 3: You walk into the sparse grey room, where the only piece of furniture is a small table, pushed up against the wall. One the table lays a pair of thick framed VR goggles and two hand controls. You gingerly pick up the goggles and lift it to your eyes and then reach for the hand controls. For a moment, all you see is darkness. But suddenly, after a few seconds, a light appears and a calligrified logo appears reading out the word Fandom.
Choose a Fandom the screen reads and then it proceeds to list what seems to be hundreds of books, movies, bands and TV shows, some of which you haven’t even heard of.
You lift your hand controller to click the Fandom of your choosing. You decided to choose the Percy Jackson fandom and the next question excites you even more than the last.
Choose your Setting you read. Without hesitation, you click on Camp Half-Blood, the place that you’ve been dreaming of going since you first read The Lightning Thief in fourth grade.
And suddenly you’re standing on Half-Blood Hill, right next to Thalia’s Pine Tree. You have a hard time believing you are still standing in that sparse grey room, because it genuinely feels like you aren’t. You can almost feel the warm wind brushing your cheek and the smell of strawberries from down in the fields before you.
“Hey!” a voice yells. You turn to see a familiar figure running toward you and you’re shocked to see the sea-green eyes and black hair that you’ve seen on book covers many times before. “Hey!” Percy says again, flashing a smile at you. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Are you ready for your quest?”

July 7: “Find the rest of the anomalies,” General Hope says, her blonde hair swishing as she turns to leave. “They are all over the Republic and we cannot let jealousy invade.”
I’ve heard these words dozens of times, and I’ve still yet to understand exactly what they mean. Nevertheless, I bow my head along with everyone else in the room as the leading Peacekeeper exits.
“If it’s not your shift you may leave for the night,” I hear her voice call. “But I expect each and every one of you back first thing in the morning. No excuses.”
It was my shift yet, thankfully, so I quickly walk toward the elevators to finally get some rest.
The elevators lead to the individual lofts where the Fan-Fiction campers stayed. They were sparsely decorated with a modern bed, dresser, and desk against a wall, facing a floor to ceiling window which looked over the Republic.
I fall asleep the moment I hit the bed, not even bothering to change out of my work clothes, vaguely acknowledging how much trouble I’d be in for that.
I wake up the next morning just as the sun streams through the window. Not daring to believe that I’d slept this late, I pull my tangled hair into a sloppy ponytail and try to smooth out my wrinkled uniform. I rush to the elevator and back down to the office where I slide into an empty desk.
My fingers type out a detailed report about the most recent anomalies that have been uncovered. Suddenly, I see a notification pop up in the corner of the monitor I was using. I click on it, already preparing for the worst, but I never expected to receive a note from General Hope. I was to come to her private office. Immediately.

(SWITCHING PROTAGONIST AND ANTAGONIST IN FAVORITE FANDOM)


“I know you wouldn’t do that Sophie,” I say, staring at the fierce blonde girl before me.
“You don’t know what I wouldn’t do,” Sophie says, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. “And apparently you didn’t know what your son would do either. You’ve lived with him for sixteen years. You never loved him, you never-”
“You don’t have a right to talk to me that way!” I shout. “I was trying to protect him- from you and your foolish cause!”
“I’m done with you, Gisela!” Sophie shouts at me. “After everything you’ve done- well, you’ll be glad you’re gonna be dead before my plan comes together!”
“Sophie, Brant didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” I plead. “You didn’t see what the Councilors were making him do! He was forced to be Talentless!”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Sophie snaps. “He killed Jolie. If it weren’t for him-”
“If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have Grady and Edaline. Do they know about this new plot of yours?” I ask.
She glares at me. Years of living with humans had driven her away, inflating her ego until she believed that she was better than all of the intelligent species and all of their leaders. “Grady and Edaline don’t need to know,” she says. “They’re perfectly fine where they are.”
“Where is my son?” I ask, my fists clenched. “I need to talk to him!”
“It’s Keefe’s choice if he wants to talk to you,” Sophie says.
“I’m aware,” I say. “At least tell him that I’d like to talk to him. Let him make his own choice.”
Sophie scowls at me, but then turns to reveal Keefe behind her, along with a few other of her impertinent friends- the Vacker children and Dex, all of them glaring at me. But most importantly, my son was here!
He flashes his trademark smirk, though it looks much more forced as soon as he sees my face. “Mother Dearest,” he mutters.
“Keefe!” I stammer. “Please! I need you to listen! Your- Sophie’s plan- her cause is flawed!”
Keefe glances at Sophie and then Fitz. Sophie shakes her head at him.
Keefe slinks behind her with an attitude that I’ve never seen before. Normally I see him with sass and swag, but I’ve never in my life seen him without cracking a joke, mussing his hair, or smirking.
“We’ll see you again, Gisela!” Sophie says. “There’s nothing you can do to stop m- us!”
And without further comment, Sophie grabs the others and teleports away.

That night, sitting alone in the cave that we were hiding in, Fintan arrives with a surprising message. “Your son- he’s waiting for you at Inktide Island.”
“My so- Keefe?! Why? Right now? HOW DID YOU FIND OUT?” I shriek.
“He left the message there after he left this morning.” Fintan explains, running a hand through his hair nervously.
“I need to leave now!” I say, hastily putting a cloak on. “I’ll be back soon, but if- what are you not telling me?” I notice Fintan biting his lip nervously and tapping his foot against the ground.
“He also said that, to prove his loyalty, he is- uh, bringing Kenric’s cache. With him.” he adds.
“Kenric’s cache?” That could help us- so much in this battle against Sophie and her friends. “I’m meeting him now, I’ll figure out the rest when I get there.”

I arrive at Inktide Island, noticing immediately that Keefe was nowhere in sight. I wait a moment, sitting on an uncomfortable grey rock, when suddenly he arrives, a furious blonde figure clutching the yellow crystal in his hands.
“Keefe?!” Sophie yells. “What are you doing meeting her?”
Keefe turns to look at me and I realize that this was not a planned betrayal.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he hisses at Sophie.
“Neither are you,” she says. “Come on, let’s leave before she gets any ideas.” She very subtly points at me as she says this.
“You leave,” Keefe says to her. “I’ll meet you back-”
“Let’s go!” Sophie cuts him off.
I watch curiously as Keefe fumbles with a leaping crystal to give to Sophie. “Wait!” I say suddenly. “Keefe, please. Come with me and I’ll-”
“COME WITH YOU?” Sophie yells. I was getting awfully tired of her interrupting. “There is no way he’s going to be doing that!” And without hesitation she pulls a throwing star out of her sleeve and throws it, aimed directly at my chest.

Inky’s Writing Thread

Dailies

✎ July 1st - 292 words ✎ July 10th - 407 words ✎ July 26th - 319 words
✎ July 2nd - 756 words ✎ July 11th - 558 words ✎ July 28th - 499 words
✎ July 3rd - 355 words ✎ July 15th - 896 words ✎ July 30th - 342 words
✎ July 4th - 626 words ✎ July 18th - 1167 words ✎ July 31st - 621 words
✎ July 5th - 786 words ✎ July 19th - 438 words
✎ July 6th - 600 words ✎ July 20th - 715 words
✎ July 8th - 846 words ✎ July 25th - 142 words

Weeklies

✎ Week 1 - 4624 words
✎ Week 2 - 2515 words
✎ Week 3 - 5692 words
✎ Week 4 - 3839 words

In-Cabin Activities

✎ Letter to the Future - 117 words
✎ Thriller Rift Door Challenge II - 476 words
✎ Thriller Rift Door Challenge III - 1244 words

Other

✎ A Description of my Bedroom - 623 words
✎ Article for The Postscript - 868 words
✎ Critique for @Aliana_Cantu - 594 words
✎ Description of Arloch - 383 words
✎ Writing Competition Entry - 856 words
✎ Word War with @23BraveHeart - 178 words
✎ Word War with @GraceOBrien13 - 259 words