HI!
SWC is somewhere, search it on scratch.
I will post them in the discussion posts below!

DAILY 11/2
When I first learned I was to tell the world of my favorite dessert, I was flabbergasted. How am I supposed to choose one? I'd like to say that I love many, many, many desserts, and picking just one would be preposterous. Here's a list of all of them I like, then some facts and stuff about what I like about them.
-Kit-Kats
Well, even though this is candy, I will still count this as a dessert. I have a friend named Kit-Kat, well, not exactly, but you know, it's close, so that's a reason I'm biased to Kit-Kats. Also, they're chocolatey, but the chocolate isn't too thick, and it has crunch.
-Krackel/Crunch Bars
I LOVE Krackel/Crunch bars SO MUCH. They're crunchy and cute and just bring every good thing about flavor into your mouth. Disagree with me and I would curse you with spaghetti.
-Sour Patch Kids/Trolli gummies
THESE ARE SO DELICIOUS MY GODDESSES I LOVE THEM AS MUCH AS KRACKEL/CRUNCH BARS!!! Sour Patch Kids are honestly more sour but after you suck on them for five seconds the flavor is gone and you're left with a lumpy piece of chew in your mouth, but the flavor is great when it's there. Trolli gummies are the opposite, except their flavor isn't as sour.
-Smarties/Sweet Tarts
Sour. Yum. I love these because you can suck on them for a long time and their flavor does not go away.
-Grape Jolly Rangers
YUM, I love these for the same reasons as Sweet Tarts/Smarties.
“REAL” DESSERTS:
-ICE CREAM
I'd like to say this speaks for itself but there are some out there who don't like it. (If you're allergic, that's fine.) It's just so cold and creamy and there are so many flavors. FRO-YO INCLUDED. (frozen yogurt)
-Chocolate Chip Cookies
Not to brag, but I make the BEST gluten-free chocolate chip cookies, and so they just have so much vanilla flavor. I really only like them when I make them or get them from Tiff's Treats. (not product placement)
-CRUNCHY cinnamon rolls
Maybe you've never heard of them, but I make these things gluten-free, so instead of being soft and doughy, they're crunchy. Which is crunch (yum) and flavor (also yum.)
-Cupcakes with frosting
Depends on frosting, but mostly buttercream only. Depends on the flavor and the way they're made, but mostly I like them.
-Glazed Vanilla donuts
People have different opinions, but I really only like this flavor of donuts because of the glaze and the way you can squash the donut.
THERE ARE SO MANY MORE DELICIOUS TREATS OUT THERE BUT I DON'T HAVE TIME TO LIST 500,000 DIFFERENT VARIANTS OF SUGAR SO I WILL HAVE TO STOP HERE! MOST DESSERTS ARE DELICIOUS IN THEIR OWN WAYS!!
byee!
-466 words

~~11/3 WEEKLY~~


-Part One:
So I've made two characters, Corie and Freya.

Corie:
Corie is a girl with a cynical take on people. All she really wants to do is listen to music and draw. When it comes to socializing, she loves talking to people, but she's nasty about it. She has a single friend, Freya.
Black wavy hair with a teal streak, blue eyes.

Freya:
Freya is a girl who takes dance. She is online a lot and has various forms of social media. She loves being social and laughs with people, being known as a girl who is nice to everyone. She has so many friends, and they all don't know why she's friends with Corie.
Straight red hair to her hips, green eyes.

Dialogue:
“Hey, Corie!” Freya exclaimed, approaching her friend.
Corie didn't hear her, just kept looking down as she leaned against the blue locker with her earbuds in her ears.
“Corie!” Freya called again.
One of Corie's earbuds fell out and she snapped her head up. “Oh. Hello, Freya. Have your friends been teasing me again? Is it Annabell? Or Chiara?”
Freya shook her head. “No. I don't know why you keep assuming that. I just wanted to say hi.”
“Just wanted to say hi, huh?” Corie murmured, putting her earbud back in.
“We haven't talked in a long time,” Freya pointed out, yanking Corie's earbuds from her ears.
Corie rolled her eyes. “I wonder why.”
“Me too!” Freya exclaimed.
Corie sighed. “You know why,” she protested.
“No I don't,” Freya admitted, shaking her head.
“You're always so busy with your friends. I never can catch you on your own,” Corie explained.
Freya pursed her lips and looked up and down at Corie. “Why are you skipping class?” Freya asked.
“I could ask the same for you,” Corie quipped back.
Freya held up a broken pencil. “My pencil snapped. And since I don't like the ones they have in the classroom, I came back to get another one.”
“That's a lousy excuse,” Corie pointed out.
“You never answered my question,” Freya reminded Corie.
“I didn't need to,” Corie put her earbuds back in.
“Goodbye, Corie,” Freya said, but Corie didn't hear her.
-240 words
—

-Part Two:

We have two characters, Corie and Freya. From the dialogue above we can see that Corie and Freya ‘broke up’ their friendship, mostly Corie's fault. We're coming back about a year later where Corie and Freya have ‘accidentally’ bumped into each other into the hall.
—>

“Hey!” Freya exclaimed as someone rammed into her, knocking her into the girl's bathroom. Her books stumbled onto the ground. “Watch where you're going, you-” Freya looked up to see none other than Corie helping her pick up the dropped books.
“So sorry,” Corie apologized, one earbud in her ear and the other lying by her hip. “Ah- here, let me get that,” she said, nudging her and Freya further into the bathroom.
“Whatever, Corie, I need to get going, I have a class in one minute, and if I'm late-”
“I need to talk to you,” Corie interrupted.
Freya sighed. “Corie, I really don't have time for this, can we talk after school? Actually, wait, me and Annabell are going shopping at this new-”
“As you have just pointed out for me, you're never available after school. Never,” Corie said bluntly. “This'll just take a minute.”
Freya pursed her lips but nodded. “One minute,” she said. “Shoot.”
Corie took a breath. “Okay,” she began.
“Speed this up,” Freya snapped.
“Okay!” Corie quipped defensively. “Okay. So, remember when we used to be friends?”
Freya didn't respond and just glared for a second. “Yes,” she said. “Where are you going with this?”
“Just making sure you didn't forget about me as you have before when we've had plans and you didn't show up,” Corie said bitterly as if recalling a memory.
Shocked, Freya froze for a second. “I don't recall anything like that happening-”
“Exactly,” Corie jumped in. “You don't ”recall“ it.”
“That never happened,” Freya protested, but Corie just shook her head.
“You're giving me little ground to stand on,” Corie pointed out, but continued as always. “So you remember when we were friends?”
“Yes! You just asked me and it's been a minute already!” Freya shouted.
“No, it hasn't. What I was going to say was that I want to be friends again,” Corie blurted out.
“How nice,” Freya said blandly. “I think I'll go-”
“Just think about this for a second!” Corie stopped Freya with a motion of her hand. “We used to be such good friends, and when I'm bored I don't have anyone to chat with.”
Freya scowled. “I'm not someone you can just take back whenever you want. I have new friends.”
“You're friends with everyone in the school!” Corie cried out.
“Except you,” Freya said darkly.
“Don't you want your collection to be complete? I'm the last little token you haven't gotten yet!” Corie shouted.
“You're making a scene,” Freya hissed.
“You're being unreasonable,” Corie spat back. “So do you want to be friends again?”
“Do I seem like I want to be friends with you?” Freya quipped.
“You never did give me a straight answer,” Corie pointed out, grinding her teeth. “Although I'm pretty sure what it would be.”
“Why do you care? Why do you want to be friends with me anyway?” Freya asked.
“This was hopeless,” Corie said through gritted teeth.
“Yes, it was,” Freya agreed.
“I'm just going to go,” Corie decided, and pushed past Freya.
“Good choice,” Freya grumbled, rolling her eyes as she left the bathroom and turned the other corner.
-525 words
—

-Part Three:

I decided to make a random villain! Her name is Anastasia, and she has pink hair that curls over her shoulders. She's 22, nasty, and wears bright rainbow clothes. Her shoes are always high and she's always smacking bubble gum. She is trying to become a world-famous clothing designer, which prompts her to kill other clothing designers with her poisonous outfits. Her weakness is candy and men because she can be seduced and bribed easily.
-75 words

-Part Four:

OOP OKAY I DID NOT KNOW I WOULD BE USING My STUPID VILLAIN ANASTASIA FOR AN ACTUAL STORY… :O
WEll here I go wish me luck lots of it I need lots of luck and yes this is a run-on sentence it is very purposeful and its purpose is to enunciate my stress.

Good morning, sunshine! I draw my curtains open and laugh a little at my luxury apartment balcony, which looks out onto the ocean. I cluck my tongue and pull a comb from my drawer, beginning to hum a song as I draw the comb through my pink hair.
“Bubble gum!” I exclaim suddenly, dropping my comb after a quick five seconds of combing. “Where's my bubble gum?”
I tear open my drawer to find that all that's in the drawer is wrappers.
“No bubble gum?!” I shriek. “I was supposed to get them yesterday, that's right. Ugh, I can't believe I forgot to call Lawrence!”
Lawrence, my servant, is always my number one contact, and I call him whenever I need anything. Extra poison, lipstick, spikey fabric, he knows my game.
“Lawrence, dear,” I say when he picks up the phone. “Can you get me a 250 packet of pink bubble gum for me? Oh, thank you.”
I don't need to hear him respond to know that he heard me. I sigh and head over to the makeup dresser, where I pull out my neon pink lipstick. I stare at my beautiful reflection, then at the roots of my hair.
“My hair's looking a little blonde today, isn't it?” I laugh to myself, reminding myself to remind Lawrence to schedule a hair appointment. “I forgot who I'm killing today… Di'Rickelle? Moiraine Simone? Oh! My calendar.”
I walk back to my bedroom, where besides my nightstand there's a calendar. “Moiraine Simone! Oh, joy, this will be fun,” I open my phone and press the first contact I see. “Lawrence, please get me some fatal poison, the slow kind,” I say before hanging up the phone. Oh, I've hated Moiraine for years!
“A new day, a new death!” I exclaim to myself.
After getting ready for the party which Moiraine will be attending, I call for Lawrence to drive in the limousine. When I go downstairs, I see him waiting near the doors, his eyes shielded by sunglasses like always.
The car drive is long, and I begin deciding which bracelet design I should use to poison Moiraine. I have five of them with me at the moment, and all I need to do is dip them in the fatal poison Lawrence got me and they'll be suffering for hours!
“Lawrence,” I call into the driver's seat. “Shall I do blue & white, pink & coral, green, sage, or blue and teal?”
Lawrence doesn't need to think for him to respond with, “Sage. That is Moiraine's favorite color.”
I don't thank him as I dip the bracelet in poison. Then I wrap it in parchment paper and slip it into my dress pocket.

The party is at a beautiful event center I've been considering buying a party in. When I walk in with my pink dress and tons of jewelry, few people pay me close attention. I don't exactly blend in, but I don't stand out, either. Moiraine has dyed hair and appears to be very similar to me.
But she's not. Not even one bit.
I make my way into the center of the crowd, where people are dancing and chatting with Moiraine. I push past the line like I belong there and laugh with Moiraine as if we've been talking for ages.
“Moiraine! Hi!” I exclaim, pushing myself in front of a brunette who I recognize as the main model from the billion-dollar makeup company that is Mia Morales.
“Hello!” Moiraine exclaims, smiling at me even though she has no idea who I am.
“I'm Anastasia Grace!” I tell her. “Clothing, shoe, and jewelry designer!”
Moiraine shakes my hand, and when she does I slip on the bracelet dipped in poison, very careful not to touch it myself.
“Goodbye!” I exclaim in the middle of her talk about this party, shoving the brunette into Moiraine like it was her fault about what was about to happen. I beam and bounce away.
It's easy to get out of these crowded parties. When I leave, Lawrence is there, adjusting his tie. Although his hair seems lighter and his skin seems tanner. I guess all that standing in the sun waiting for me had a tax on him.
“Hello, Lawrence. Please drive me home,” I say. “Do you have my bubblegum?”
Lawrence dives his hand into his pocket, then switches to the other one and pulls out a 250 pack of pink bubble gum. Again, I don't thank him as we get into the car. I tear off the wrapping and pop a piece into my mouth. I begin to smack it, very loudly.
Today Lawrence is a bit edgy on his driving. I expect he's thirsty. I noticed when I came out his plastic water bottle was missing. He must have left it somewhere.
When we reach the apartment complex, I leave Lawrence and race up to my room, opening my phone to check the camera on the sage green bracelet. I hear Moiraine crying and people around her racing to help. This makes me smile and satisfaction races through my veins.
Suddenly the door clicks, unlocked. Somebody's broken in, I think. I quickly turn off my camera and pull out my spare Fatal Bangle. But when I race into the main room, it's just Lawrence, closing the door behind himself.
“Oh, Lawrence, I was scared it was someone else,” I sighed, grasping my chest and putting away the bangle. “But why are you here? You aren't supposed to come in without my permission.”
Then he takes off his sunglasses, which he's never done before. His eyes are sparkly green, and he has freckles underneath them.
I smile. “Hey,” I say. He smiles back and walks towards me. My heart skips a beat in my throat. Did I brush my teeth? I think I did. My mouth still tastes like the bubblegum I just spit out. He moves closer.
“Lawrence-” I start to say, but he grins and stops me.
“I'm not Lawrence,” he says, and I know it's true. He sounds nothing like Lawrence, his voice is deep and chocolatey, with an accent I can't exactly figure out.
I still keep my smile. “Then who are you?”
Not-Lawrence laughs. “I'm Exsces. And I'm not here to bond with you.”
I frown. “Then why are you here?”
The man with the sparkly green eyes snatches something from my pocket, and before I can shout, he takes my Fatal Bangle and slides it over my wrist. My vision goes blurry, and the next thing I know I'm falling to the ground.
Then nothing.
-1,100 words
—–


ALTOGETHER: 2,171 WORDS

DAILY 11/4

“…that's all I can list,” is the last thing my brother said. I don't know what it's about, but it's just what I heard.
—>

There was a cow. His name was Theodorf the cow. Every morning and every night, all he did was make lists. Every morning and every night, his turtle friend Lekoo would give him a theme. And every morning and every night, Theodorf the cow would write lists of that theme Lekoo had said.
“…jackfruit, kiwi, mango…” Theodorf the cow was saying. “That's all I can list,” he said suddenly.
“Okay,” Lekoo the turtle nodded. “There are more fruits, though.”
“I know,” Theodorf the cow said. “But I just can't list anymore.”
“Here's a new theme: Types of flowers,” Lekoo the turtle gave Theodorf the cow.
“But I can't list anymore,” Theodorf protested.
“Why not?” Lekoo the turtle asked.
“That's all I can list,” Theodorf said again.
Lekoo the turtle was confused. “You can't list anything anymore?” he asked.
“Nope,” Theodorf confirmed.
“But every day and every night, all you do is list! How could you have lost your power to list?” Lekoo asked.
“I don't know,” Theodorf admitted.
“You must be ill,” Lekoo decided. “Sleep on it, and we'll try to help you list in the morning.”
Theodorf agreed and they went to sleep.

The next morning, Lekoo the turtle and Theodorf the cow met once again.
“This time, how about we try colors of the forest?” Lekoo the turtle suggested.
“Okay,” Theodorf the cow said. He scrunched up his face, thinking hard. “I still can't list anything.”
“Now that's odd,” Lekoo decided. “Let's go ask Mila the owl.”
And so the two animals went to ask Mila the owl.
Mila the owl was on her regular tree branch near the big, blue pond. “How can I help you?” she asked Theodorf the cow and Lekoo the turtle. Mila was a wise owl, and she always had a solution to everything.
“Theodorf can't list anymore,” Lekoo explained. “He's lost the power to list.”
Mila hooted. “Oh, dear. I am afraid this is a quite grave situation,” she said.
“Oh, no. What's the matter?” Theodorf the cow asked.
“It appears you've lost your Listing Stone,” Mila the owl said solemnly.
“What's a Listing Stone?” Lekoo the turtle asked.
“You see, the Listing Stone allows you to list anything and everything, and it is a dark green stone kept deep in your left ear. Without it, you cannot list anything!” Mila explained.
“So I've lost my Listing Stone?” Theodorf the cow asked.
“Yes. If it gets overworked, the Listing Stone can fall out of your ear,” Mila the owl said.
“Oh,” said Theodorf.
“You probably want to retrace your steps since the time when you could list,” Mila suggested. “That way you can find your Listing Stone in fast time, instead of checking all of Animal Forest.”
“Okay,” said Theodorf and Lekoo.

The two animals first checked the rock near the blackberry bushes.
“I was here yesterday, listing types of leaves,” Theodorf the cow remembered.
“I don't see anything,” Lekoo said. “Let's check another place.”
After checking most of the places in Animal Forest, they still hadn't found Theodorf's listing stone.
“Where could my Listing Stone possibly be?” Theodorf asked.
“I think I hurt my foot walking around all day. That was just a waste,” Lekoo sighed.
When Lekoo walked away to go to his den, something shiny on his foot caught Theodorf's eye.
“Lekoo! I think my Listing Stone is on your foot!” Theodorf exclaimed. He pulled the stone off of Lekoo's foot. It was dark green and small enough to fit in an ear.
“Why, I think it is! Go ahead and put it in your ear,” Lekoo the turtle exclaimed.
Sure enough, the Listing Stone fit perfectly in Theodorf's ear!
“Can you list flowers now?” Lekoo asked.
“Daisy, poppy, tulip!” Theodorf listed.
Hooray! Theodorf could list again!
-628 words
—-
This was a very cheesy story, but it still does have to do with that first sentence! Thank you! Bye

DAILY 11/6:
-Words: haunt, despair, suffer, goodbye
~~~~~~~~~
There's only despair left here
I've been haunted by everyone's suffering
wondering why I never got to say goodbye
but had to watch as they eternally died
Fatefully in this house of haunted immortals
Unable to leave
I watch their screams,
silently screaming with them
the anguish
the despair
it's too much just for me
it's getting harder to distinguish
my love and my hatred
for the way I've been treated
in this house of haunted immortals
not even one goodbye,
all I get is screams
Can't speak, can't see,
just them,
everyone I've ever known,
what kind of cruel punishment is this
I don't even remember anymore
all I can hear
their calls
to me?
don't know
to the world?
possibly
all I can see
their near-dead eyes
staring straight at me
tears
crystal
flooding around their feet
maybe it's from me
maybe it's my fault
in this house of haunted immortals
not really knowing why I'm here
who I am
and what I'm supposed to be
maybe I'm dreaming
already asleep
except that their cries
puncture me
I can feel them
like nails
digging into my skin
so loud,
so haunted,
suffering and swimming in just growing despair
like me,
I can't even feel myself
can't distinguish the anguish
from the hatred,
from the tears,
are they tears?
can I feel them?
metaphorically
literally
I just can't tell anymore
it's only me
and the house of haunted immortals
which are shrinking and screaming
begging me for something
something I don't have
but someone probably has
how do I stop this?
all of this anguish?
do I give in eternally?
focus on nothing?
when will this end
will this go on forever
it feels like forever
it's been forever
I want to say goodbye
to myself,
to these people,
to life,
but I can't
I made a choice
one I'm regretting still
I forgot it
and I can't pause
to think of what it could possibly be
this world making me suffer
has it been like this forever
by now I can't tell
by now all I have is their crumbling faces
those crumbling faces
in this house of haunted immortals
-370 words;

DAILY 11/7
—–
Lol, I don't really have many vivid memories, just scattered vague ones. I'll try to think back to school because all I remember for as long as I've lived is school.
—–
“Reese, hey!” Evalyn called from across the playground.
“Evalyn? You're back from Italy early!” I exclaimed, grinning.
“Yeah,” Evalyn nodded. “Something to do with the weather. I brought you back something.”
“Oh, cool! What'd you bring?” I asked.
Evalyn smiled and pulled something out of her pocket. It was a small magenta pink brush pen.

It was about seven years ago when that almost exact same pink brush pen came into our life. We were in second grade. The teacher had bought us brush pens for a cool project we were doing in art class. Everyone fawned over them, but nobody loved them more than Evalyn and I.
At that time, Evalyn and I were enemies. I remember the day of the pink brush pen so vividly I could describe the weather, the time of the clock, and every single detail of the way the brush pens were given to us.

“Class! I've brought something very special for you all,” Ms. Calijou exclaimed, clapping her hands together before opening her teacher bag.
The class whispered to their friends about what the ‘very special’ thing could be.
“As you can remember, we're working on watercoloring in art class. Unfortunately, you may also remember that Brenson George ate some of the watercolors, so in this school, watercolors can't be used until fourth grade.”
There was a chorus of “aww” and “noo.”
“But what's the special thing?” I demanded.
Ms. Calijou winked at me. “Since we are unable to use real watercolors, for this class and only this class, I have brought you…” Ms. Calijou opened her teacher bag wider and pulled out a slim box decorated with what looked like markers. “Zen Art Watercolor brush pens!”
Most of the boys just grumbled, but the girls clapped and whooped, I included.
There were two reds, two oranges, two yellows, two lime greens, two greens, two teals, two light blues, two blues, two dark blues, two indigos, two violets, two blacks, two browns, two grays, and… one magenta pink.
“You may go ahead and grab ONE marker to work with for today,” she explained.
We all raced out of our desks, tripping over each other to reach the brush pens spilled over the supplies table.
Evalyn glared at me as she watched where I was headed. At the same time, we grabbed the magenta pink brush pen.
“Hey! I grabbed it first!” I protested.
“No, you didn't!” Evalyn snapped.
“Girls, what's the matter here? Arguing over a brush pen?” Ms. Calijou asked, hovering over us.
“She's trying to steal my brush pen!” I exclaimed.
“No, she is!” Evalyn cried.
“If you cannot figure out who gets the pen, neither of you will,” Ms. Calijou said silkily before leaving to get a marker cap out of someone's nose.
Evalyn glared at me, gritting her teeth. I glared at Evalyn.
“You heard her,” she said, her fluffy brown hair bouncing as she kept yanking at the marker. “Give me the marker.”
“No,” I said. “Give me the marker.”
“It's mine!” Evalyn exclaimed.
“It's mine!” I countered.
We continued tugging on the pink marker until I stopped, catching sight of Evalyn's plastic bag pencil case.
“You can have the marker,” I decided.
“What?” Evalyn said, slowly pulling the brush pen out of my hands.
“You can have the marker,” I repeated. “I certainly don't need it.”
Evalyn smiled at me. “You really mean it?”
“Yeah,” I promised. I could always buy some at home. Evalyn's family was poor, so there was really no chance of her getting it otherwise.
“Thank you,” Evalyn whispered, then bounced off to continue with her watercolor project.
I watched as she walked away, then Ms. Calijou came up beside me. “Good job,” she said.
—–

Daily 11/9

“Have you ever been to WC before?” Shyi asked, approaching me. I had finally made it to my cabin, Sci-Fi, which was a tall and flat glass building in the sky, the farthest from the other cabins.
“No,” I whimpered, looking around at the towering windows and ceilings. The chandeleirs and lights were way to bright, made with what looked like bent and glowing metal.
Shyi had long, shiny black hair and beautiful dark eyes. She was wearing tons of shimmery silver bangles, a silver moon necklace, and a black dress that dropped into a short knee-length skirt. Near the top of her dress was a shiny badge, with the bolded words ‘leader’ emblazoned on the metallic blue planet, Sci-Fi's logo.
Another girl came up beside her. She had two long blonde ponytails, blue eyes, and a long, tight, teal space suit with light white silver stripes and a silver neckline. Her badge had the word ‘CO’ written across the planet. She gave me an innocent look. “Who is this? A new camper?” her eyes trailed to my 4 suitcases and duffel bags of plenty. I had even draped three purses across my elbows, and attached a roller suitcase to my belt.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Yep, this is Audrey!” Shyi exclaimed. “I have no idea where Loira is… Well, Audrey, my name is Shyi, as I've already established, and this is Tiffany, but everyone calls her If. Loira has wavy brown hair with brown eyes, and a badge just like If's here. If you catch sight of her, make sure to stop by and say hello.”
I nodded.
“Hey, Audrey,” If said to me. Then to Shyi, “I better go check on the campers before they war on Fan Fiction.” She turned and walked away.
“Let me show you to your cabin,” Shyi offered. “You're on Team Sheath, my group. Welcome to Sci-Fi.”

–

Inside Team Sheath's cabin, everyone had already arrived except me. I was the last one and got the bottom bunk in Room 3.
“Hey, Audrey, welcome to Team Sheath,” some random girl greeted me when I walked into Room 3 from the Team Sheath common room.
“Hi…” I murmured, intimidated by the tall girl. She had cropped blonde hair, dyed with green streaks and some faded outlines of blue. Her eyes were a sparkly green-blue, like she was wearing colored contacts. She was wearing only blush for makeup, and for an outfit she had a dress with a blue mesh strap and the same color dress that fell to her knees in a curtain-fabric cascade.
“I'm Wind,” the tall girl told me. “I'm on the bunk above you.”
I gave her a weak smile before dropping all my stuff in the corner of the room. Her name was Wind?
“Jalapeno and Rene are at the Main Cabin dropping off their weeklies and dailies, but Bella and Pup are right over there if you want to talk to them,” Wind explained. I blinked at the oddness of their names.
“Jalepeno? Pup?” I echoed, furrowing my brows. “What kind of names are those? And Wind?”
Wind sent me a dulled glare. “Names are names,” was all she said.
I walked over to the edge of the room, where two girls, Bella and Pup, were talking and writing something on their laptops, looking out the stained blue windows into the clouds.
“Oh, hello!” one of the girls said. She was shorter than Wind, and petite, with brown eyes and brownish-gold straight hair that went halfway down her hips, marked with blonde highlights. “I'm Bella. Welcome to Sci-Fi Team Sheath. Room 3 is the best of the rooms.”
The other girl didn't make eye contact with me. She inched away, shy. Her eyes were a splintering pink, and her hair was strawberry blonde, except pinker to the point where it looked almost hot pink. It cascaded in spirals down her back to her hips.
“You must be Pup. I'm Audrey,” I said to the girl with the pink hair. She looked up.
“I'm Pup,” she confirmed. Then her fingers transferred back to the keyboard and she kept typing.
“Did you bring your laptop? I can help you connect to Team Sheath's printer,” Bella offered.
“Uh, yes, I brought it…” I mumbled. I really hoped I hadn't forgotten my charger.
“Yes!” Bella exclaimed. “I can help you with all the weeklies and the dailies! We're going to have so much fun!”
I responded with a tiny smile, then we were both off to connect with the printer.
-768 words

WEEKLY 11/9
—-

~Warmups:

2]
When I wake up
I smell coffee
Even if it's not there,
It's part of my daily routine,
After I wake up and brush my hair.
It's not exactly alive,
I don't write it down,
I don't exactly know it.
I can just tell that it's in my mind,
Where my scattered thoughts make me a poet.
I smell nonexistent coffee,
In the cool summer air,
Even if it's winter,
I can see myself lying in one of those
Old beach chairs.
Some people tell me I'm crazy,
Because I have all these things,
Their minds are sort of hazy, though,
Because their routine is just rings,
Rings of nonsense,
The same uncultured mess every morning,
Yes, some write it down,
But they don't take the senses,
One for each kind,
Hear,
Smell,
Touch,
See,
and
Tasting.
I taste blueberry muffins,
Juicy, and still warm,
Sometimes it's my breakfast,
But mostly I like corn.
I hear the music at the pool,
Too loud,
It's my very own alarm clock,
And I can feel the water on my skin
As I swim through summer.

3]
Miu Kall is an origami expert. A secret one. She has blue curly hair that stops at her shoulders, dark brown eyes, and faintly dark skin. She can design a whole house out of origami, one that goes so tall. Three stories are easy, 50 is her limit.
Her best creation yet was her home that reached towards the sky, with about 45 stories, all her very own. Her bedroom and wallpaper are her own origami, as well as most everything, including the plumbing. Most people are scared about how good she is at using paper, but it's really just practicing with her colorful paper.

~Exploring Fiction

2]
Depressing:
“HEIRA! DON'T LEAVE ME!” I screamed over the roaring bullets of battle. One skimmed my arm and I screamed again in pain. “HEIRA!”
I began sprinting through the whirring bullets, slashing swords, and flying daggers. When I saw the blue streak in Heira's hair, I stopped and stared. She was on the ground, someone standing over her with a blade.
“Come on!” I yelled at her. I kicked the guy with the blade off of her and yanked her out of the battle.
“What are you doing?!” she demanded.
“We have to get OUT OF HERE!” I screamed.
“Why? It's just a simulation!” Heira protested.
“No, it isn't! Not this one!” I shouted.
Then something hit Heira and she fell to the ground.

Happy/Jubilant:
“Happy birthday, Liesel!”
It was morning, and my friend was waking me up with marshmallows in my hair. My other friend was rolling up her sleeping bag.
“It's 4 AM! We fell asleep 4 hours ago,” I grumbled.
Angelina, the one with the marshmallows, laughed. “It's your birthday!”
I grinned, realizing it was in fact, my birthday.
After she had finished rolling up her sleeping bag, Corie came over and gave me her present. “I know we were supposed to give them to your mom yesterday, but I wanted to see you open it… right now.”
I grinned at Corie. “Thank you so much!” I exclaimed as I opened the present to find a perfectly colored art set. Just what I had wanted.

Cranky:
Math. I hate math. I kinda want to defenestrate it right now.
I slump into math classroom like a shadow and slouch into my seat. MATH. Why couldn't it have been history, where I don't need to think, I just take notes?
“Are you guys ready for our test?” the teacher asks.
Oh, shoot. That's right. We have a test. And I 100% forgot about it and didn't study at all.
Not for one second of my life.
I groan and slouch further down into my seat.
“Come on, it's not that hard of a unit,” the girl sitting next to me reminds me.
“I don't even remember what the unit is!” I exclaim, a little too loudly. Perhaps the teacher heard me. She doesn't seem to notice.
“Eyes on your own paper, and don't forget your name and the date,” she tells us.
“Whyy todayyy?” I grumble under my breath, then slouch so much farther down into my seat that I slide straight under my desk.

4]
“Mom?” I whimpered, watching as she grabbed a picture from one of the desks and tucked it into her bag.
“Strike, darling…” my mom cupped my face and gave me a pained look. “I'll be back before you know it. Give me a day.”
“But…” a fat tear dripped down my cheek.
My mother's white feathery wings embraced me with her arms. “You are Strike Blue. You are strong. You can handle this.”
I was eight. I was weak. And I couldn't handle it.
I didn't know anything about communicating with other people. All I had was me and my library and my mansion of a house up in the clouds.
“I'm not strong like you,” I protested as she kept stuffing things into bags. When my mother looked back at me, I could spot the dark circles under her eyes.
“You're the strongest person I know,” she whispered.
“But how will I eat?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
My mom paused her packing and smiled. “The garden out back. You know what to do.”
“Why do you have to go?!” I demanded, hugging her waist and crying.
“Remember? I have to go figure it out,” she reminded me. I knew. I was just stalling.
“What exactly do you have to figure out?” I asked.
My mother dropped her bag on the ground and sighed. I knew she would take a while to answer this. “There was a time. Before you were born, years before, there were visitors. Customers. Every day, they would come. They were so kind, and they provided me with the energy I needed to keep the cafe running. But one day, they stopped.”
“Why can't I go with you?” I whined. “I want to know, too. I want to be with you.”
“It's too dangerous. You'll do fine on your own for just a little while,” my mom explained, picking up her bag as if to leave.
“No! Don't go yet! I-I'm scared. I don't know what to do! On Sundays, how will we play chase the chickens?” I asked.
“I'll be back before you know it,” my mom repeated.
“But, I-” tears fell down my cheeks like rain. “But what if you don't come back?”
“I will,” she promised.
She lied.

~Exploring Non-Fiction

3]
I believe that bracelets are better than necklaces because bracelets are easier to put on, necklaces get lost all the time and you cannot find them, you can have many of them at a time without looking tacky, necklaces are uncomfortable, and you have TWO wrists to put bracelets on.
Bracelets are better than necklaces because bracelets are easier to put on. Especially with necklaces like chokers, and even necklaces UNlike chokers, putting on necklaces can be a hassle, and they can get stuck in hair, get caught on something, and those clasps are always SO HARD to clasp, am I right? Take one of your favorite necklaces. If you don't have any, try your mom's or go buy one at the store. Not one of those beaded necklaces, get a real necklace with a clasp. Now try to put it on without someone's help. Challenge: See how long it takes to put it on WITHOUT looking at the clasp. It's even harder with a choker. In the morning, sometimes you just don't have a whole five or ten minutes just to put on a tiny necklace. Sometimes when they're long it can be useful, but most of the time they're really difficult to manage. And the ones with big things at the end of them? They swing around, and that's difficult to deal with! With a bracelet, you can just slip it on, especially if it's stretchy or it's a bangle! The ones that have clasps are sometimes difficult to put on, but at least you can see what you're doing!
Necklaces get lost all the time! One day I came home from school and my necklace was gone! I found it on the ground later. It had been broken! And I didn't notice because it was on my neck. If it was on my wrist, I could tell if it went missing.
You can have as many bracelets as you want! Bracelets have two wrists to be put on, whereas you only have one neck. You can slide bracelets up and down your arm, and they can be any color possible. Necklaces, on the other hand… there's basically no room for them! They have to go down and interfere with clothing and hair, getting all tangled up in stuff. You can only wear a few or else it looks tacky.
Necklaces are uncomfortable. They scratch your neck with their beads and wires. When you wear a bracelet, you have a smaller amount of beads, and having something uncomfortable on your wrist is less painful.
Bracelets can be comfortable, while necklaces generally are not… Have you ever heard of friendship bracelets? Those are those little yarn beaded bracelets. Made of yarn. And yarn is really soft! It's not hard like beads or scratchy like some types of wire and string. You can basically wear fabric around your wrist! And do you see fabric just randomly tied around people's necks? Nooo, you cannot do that for necklaces. Just bracelets. And those don't even scratch one bit, and their clasps are normally really easy to put on.
Necklaces can be dangerous. There is a reason people tell you to take them off in sports. When you're running around, it's easy for your necklace to be caught on someone else, or grabbed by someone else. If that person is running, it could pull you backward and give you a cut on your neck. You could also be choked with it if you fall and it gets caught in a rock. It's difficult to untangle yourself out of those situations.
All these reasons in place, it is clear that bracelets are better than necklaces.
-611 words

4]
Citations: Wikipedia
Cats are carnivorous mammals. They are good to have around and are popular because they kill rodents that aren't wanted in people's homes or workplaces. These cats have long and sharp claws, a strong sense of smell, as well as great eyesight in the dark. Noises that help cats ‘talk to each other’ or with humans are meows, purrs, growls, hisses, grunts, and trills, but cats most often speak with body language. Different postures, ear position, eye shape, and tail position can determine their moods. In a content state, cats will lay down with a still tail lying next to them. When a cat is tense it will pull its tail close to its body. The tail might twitch if it's tense. When a cat is scared it will crouch down with its paws under itself, it makes itself smaller. If a cat is confident, it will walk around with its tail high in the sky. When a cat flattens its ears, it means it is either in a defensive or offensive position. When a cat slowly blinks, they're greeting who they're looking at with affection.
A cat can hear sounds humans can't, like faraway sounds by mice or other small creatures.
Female cats can have a litter of 2-5 kittens. Cats birth more than one cat at a time, like always having twins or more.
Cats can be awake at night or day, but they're typically more active at night. Cats can fall asleep for short periods of time, also known as ‘cat naps.’
Cats can be alone, or they can join feral cat colonies, which are groups of females who are friends. In groups like this, there is almost always one cat who is dominant over all the others.
They are very territorial. Male cats have the largest territories, their territories are normally 10 times as large as a normal female cat's territory. Cats mark their territory by rubbing their heads against things or spraying urine. In between the territories, where there are gaps without any cats, cats can meet without any territorial issues arising. If another cat gets into a cat's territory, the cat owning the territory will warn the cat off with a glare, and if that won't hurt it will his, then growl, and if neither of those work, they will engage in a short little fight. Cats always hunt alone.
Adult cats live like their still kittens. Their loud cries make it hard for a human to resist because they sound similar to an infant's whining.
Cats can clean themselves by licking themselves with their tough tongues. Cat's tongues have papillae, which are spines that make the cat's tongue like a hairbrush.
With domestic cats, males are more likely to get into fights. Most of the time, fighting occurs when two males are deciding over a female, and they are fighting to either show their dominance to the female or scare away the other male. Most of the time, the heavier cat wins these fights. Receiving severe damage from these fights is rare, most of the time cats come out with only a few scratches, but for fights over a mate, it's more typical for there to be deep puncture wounds.
Domestic cats, most often kittens, love to play. Playing helps them learn how to stalk and capture prey. Cats play-fight as well, which they can do with each other or other humans. This helps them practice for when they may actually need to combat. Play fighting will also help them decrease the fear they would probably get if they were fighting for real.
-600 words

DAILY 11/14
Veggie: Avocado (Itz a fruit yes yes ik but its a veggie more like)
Fruit: Cherry
Avaerry is a cherry avocado! She is a cherry in the shape of an avocado, with red skin and a big brown seed in the center. Avery lives with her mother, Cherry, and her dad Avocado. She has a brother avocado named Cado and a sister cherry name Cher. She is a happy little cherry avocado mix and always is the one singing and annoying her neighbors, who are grumpy cabbages and spinaches. Her personality type is ENFP-A/ENFP-T, so she's a free spirit, outgoing, openhearted, and open-minded. She's always curious, enthusiastic, and bright about almost anything. She loves talking with people and securing deep friendships. Avaerry radiates a positive atmosphere everywhere she goes, and she's cheerful and supportive. Her favorite things to do are drawing, writing, acting, dancing, playing soccer, swimming, crafting, and so much more! In Fruits'n'Veggie Academy, she gets all A's, especially in things like English, Foreign Language, History, and Science! Her favorite color is red, but she likes all of them! Her friends joke that she is the classic Disney princess who has the attitude of a bright happy ball of sunshine! And it's true, Avaerry does seem like a sunshine and rainbows person. And most importantly, she loves connecting with other people.
-212 words

WEEKLY 11/16
—

Part 1:
The three sprites I got were the drums, symbol, and Avery walking.
~~~~~
(I tried to write this badly because I was in a rush, so it sounds like a pre-k cheesy book about false stuff. plus I used like a really cringey cliche and it's one of those stereotypical stories you can find on every schoolteacher's shelf about kindness and stuff. -_- )
Avery Walker always wanted to play the drums. Every time when she got home from school, she would pull out her big box of boxes and hit them with her palms. She would use YouTube to make DIY drums that she would bang all day. When she was finally old enough for the school band, Avery went to try out for percussion to accomplish her dream of finally playing the drums. When she came up to the audition, the cheerful old man judging percussion waved and smiled.
“Hello,” he said. “Welcome to the school band audition! You can go sit over there.”
When Avery went to sit over there where the band teacher had pointed her to go, she found out that her friends had all decided to play the other instruments. Her best friend Lima walked up to her and told her, “You should come to play the French Horn with us. Percussion is for boys.”
Now Avery had to make a decision. Should she go with her friends or follow her dreams? She stood up to walk over to where the French Horns were supposed to sit. Should she go over there?
“Ms. Walker? Are you auditioning for percussion?” the cheerful old man judging her asked.
“No, sir!” Avery said quickly. “P-percussion is for boys,” she mumbled, echoing her friends.
The cheerful old man wasn't so cheerful anymore. “It is now?” he grumbled. “Go off to whatever instrument you're going to play.”
Avery walked over to her friends. They were all chatting about clothing.
“Avery! You've decided to take the French Horn. Percussion is for boys,” Mary said when Avery walked up to the group.
“I told the teacher that and he didn't seem so happy,” Avery mentioned. Her friends dropped their jaws.
“Why would you do that?” Lima asked. “You're so stupid.”
Avery's mouth opened and closed. “But you said-”
“Go over to your stupid percussion. Percussion is for boys and you are a boy. Boys are mean!” Claudia shouted.
After hearing that, Avery was very sad, so she ran back over to percussion.
“What are you doing back here? I thought you said percussion was for boys,” the percussion teacher scowled.
“That's just what Lima said,” Avery snapped.
“Lima's a sweet little girl! You are lying,” the percussion teacher said.
“I am not lying!” Avery protested.
“There you go again! Lying!” the man exclaimed. “Lima, did you tell Avery percussion was for boys?”
Lima gave the percussion teacher an innocently sweet look. “Of course I didn't! Percussion is for everyone!” she exclaimed. Mary and Claudia nodded along like bobbleheads.
“She's lying!” Avery shouted.
“Avery!” the percussion teacher yelled. “That is enough! I'm calling you to the principal's office.”
When Avery reached the principal's office with Lima and the percussion teacher, the principal, Mr. Green, took us to a place behind a door hidden by coats in his closet.
“This is the security camera viewing area,” Mr. Green explained. Lima's mouth dropped open.
“You're not saying you have video!” Lima gasped.
“Yes! Yes! Show the video!” Avery shouted.
The percussion teacher gave Avery a hard look. “We will not be fooled by your acting. We are watching the security video.”
“Are you sure we should watch the security video? How could a girl like me ever do something wrong?” Lima asked the percussion teacher.
“You're right,” the percussion teacher agreed. “Avery should be the one getting detention.”
“No, no,” Mr. Green protested, pushing some buttons. “Innocent until proven guilty.”
“This is just a waste of time,” the percussion teacher grumbled through his teeth.
“It may be,” Mr. Green agreed. He clicked on the band studio.
“No! Don't click on that!” Lima exclaimed, but it was too late.
A blurry image appeared on the screen. It was Lima walking up to Avery.
The sound was fragmented, but I could clearly hear Lima saying, “You should come to play the French Horn with us. Percussion is for boys.”
-659 words
—
Part Two:

~~searching for items
-you don't find all of them
-the characters die before they can find all the items
~~happy ending
-kill the main character at the end of the story
-the item people are trying to find is not found
~~the ‘tough’ character becomes soft
-make her get tougher
-kill her
~~the damsel in distress
-the damsel is genderfluid
-the damsel is evil
~~people get together and then break up
-they break up but then one thinks they're still together
-they break up but then the other is killed.

——Happy Endings Cliche Subverted:
“Emily, where is the Christmas Angel?” I asked Emily, who was sitting near the fireplace drinking her hot cocoa.
“The Christmas Angel?” she echoed. “I haven't the faintest idea, Clara. Let's check the attic.”
Emily and I then stormed up the treacherous oak wood stairs that were peeling and rotting because of how long they'd been there. “Ugh, this attic is so dusty. And cramped,” Emily commented.
“I agree,” I mumbled, pushing past some boxes filled with kitchen supplies.
“This box has napkins and blankets… no, just blankets,” Emily called from the other side of the attic.
“We keep our Christmas decorations in the hall closet. Never up here,” I commented. “Oh, look, there's a little note on this wall. If you want your angel, follow the red curtain into the demise of every willow and climb the highest tree.”
“What?” Emily bumped into me from behind.
“Be careful!” I scolded her. “Is this person talking about that random red curtain that is just sitting there on the wall? It's been there forever. Behind there is nothing but a wall.”
“Are you sure?” Emily contradicted me, walking up to push away the curtain. She peeked through, gasped, and then ran into what looked like only a wall. “Clara!” she exclaimed. Then her calls got softer.
“For goodness grace,” I mumbled, then followed her behind the curtain.
All that was there was a tree in a sea of green. Emily was halfway up. At the top was our angel.
“Come on!” she called down to me.
I began to climb up directly below her. “Go faster!” I exclaimed.
“Uh-oh!” Emily cried, and before I could ask what was the matter she was falling on top of me, knocking me to the hard green ground. I coughed out my last breath before rolling into the enveloping green mist.
-306 words

Part Three:
I rarely use the chosen one trope.
This story is loosely based on a story I wrote in 4th and 5th grade that was the first actual story that I finished.
—
I woke up to a dream. I know this sounds weird, because most of the time when you wake up, you're in real life. But somehow, I was already in a dream. But I remember waking up.
I tried to call out but found that I couldn't. In front of me, all I could see was a golden rose pulsing with light. I reached forward to grab it, but it just kept getting farther away. Finally, I lunged and grabbed onto the rose. Thorns dug into my skin like nails and I cried out in my dream, but still held on tightly to the rose as I felt the thorns spin inside me. Then they burst, and power coursed through my veins. I finally dropped the rose and it fell into the darkness below me, wilting into sickly black dust.
I gasped, sitting up in my bed. What had that been? Just a dream? I thought I could still feel the power in my veins, but that was impossible. I got up to get ready for school.
When I got to school, I sat in my usual spot next to Arabia. Arabia was staring at me with a cool glare. I noticed an odd rose birthmark shining with blue light near her forehead. I would ask her about that later.
When we made it to recess, Arabia was running to me.
“Chloe! You have a golden rose near your ear!” she whispered.
“You have a blue one!” I replied. Then my jaw dropped. She paused, as if considering something, then her eyes widened as she realized.
“We are the Chosen Flowers,” we said in unison.
-275 words
–TBC–

Part Four:
Wha- ummmm…
-_-
:eyeroll:
:sigh:
:dot of pen ink:
:scribbling of pen:
—-
“Welcome to the band audition for Tiger Lion Band!” the percussion teacher, Ms. Cise exclaimed. She was a cheerful woman with auburn shiny hair and glasses and was wearing a tight blue dress and wearing mini-drums earrings. “Sit over with the instrument you want to audition for!”
Avery Walker, who had since the beginning of time wanted to play the drums, every type, plus cymbals, was definitely auditioning for drums. After all, it had been her dream since the beginning of time. Every single day when she came home from school, she would play on her tiny DIY drumset she had made out of cardboard, fabric, strings, and mom's old pots. Today was the day she was finally waiting for. She was finally in 6th grade and old enough to join the school band. And good enough, all her friends were also joining band! She'd have so many friends to play her instruments with! She bet at least one of them would do percussion with her.
But when she walked over to the area with all the people auditioning for drums, nobody was sitting there except for three boys who were fiddling with their own drumsticks.
She looked around for her friends. Maybe they were just late.
They weren't. Avery spotted them sitting over near the French Horn section. They were pointing at her and smirking under their hands. Lima, Avery's best friend, walked over and nearly cringed when she passed the boundary between French Horn and Percussion.
“Avery…” Lima murmured. “What are you doing over here?”
“What do you mean?” Avery chirped. “I'm auditioning for percussion!”
Lima gave Avery a disgusted look. “You have got to be kidding me,” she scowled. “Percussion is for boys.” Then she flipped her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder and waltzed back over to her giggling friends, Claudia and Mary.
Avery stood there in shock. Ms. Cise came over and smiled at her. “Hello, Avery! Are you auditioning for percussion?” she asked.
Avery opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. Then she caught sight of Mary, Claudia, and Lima smirking under their palms.
“N-no, Ms. Cise,” Avery said quickly. “Percussion is for boys.”
“Is it now?” Ms. Cise warned with a raised eyebrow. Avery sucked in her stomach, and with her head down, she scuttled back to Lima and her friends.
“Oh, hi, Avery!” Claudia exclaimed. She twirled her shiny black hair. “You finally made the right choice. I can't believe you ever thought of going to percussion.”
“Yeah. It's for boys,” she mumbled under her breath.
“That's right!” Mary giggled. She pulled up her white sunglasses and smiled.
“I said that to the teacher. She didn't seem so happy with me,” Avery sighed.
There was a beat before Lima said anything.
“Why would you tell her that?!” Lima exclaimed. “That's so stupid. She's a girl, you know. That's offensive. You should never say that percussion is for boys to a girl who teaches percussion.”
“I-uh, well, you said it!” Avery pointed out.
Lima rolled her eyes. “Ye-ah-ah, I said it to you! I can't believe you were mean enough to say that. And stupid enough. We don't want you to be in French Horns with us. You're not a girl anymore, you're a stupid mean boy. Go to percussion!”
Mary and Claudia chorused with “Yeah!” and “We don't want you!”
Avery turned red and ran right back over to percussion, where she had always belonged.
“Avery?” Ms. Cise frowned at her. “What are you doing here? I thought percussion was for boys?”
“It isn't!” Avery cried. “That's just what Lima told me…”
Ms. Cise gasped. “Lima's a sweet little girl, unlike you! You're lying.”
“I am not!” Avery exclaimed.
“You are lying again!” Ms. Cise shouted. “Lima, did you tell Avery percussion was for boys?”
“Of course not!” Lima gasped. “Why would I ever say that? Percussion is for everyone!”
“See?” Ms. Cise offered.
“Lima is lying!” Avery spat. “I heard her say it with my very own ears.”
“Let's take this to the principal's office, shall we?” Ms. Cise snapped.
Lima glared at Avery as they walked to the principal's office.
When they made it to Mr. Green's office, Mr. Green listened intently as their situation was explained.
“Let's check the security cameras,” Mr. Green decided.
“There are security cameras?” Lima gasped, turning pale.
“Yes, check the cameras!” Avery exclaimed.
Ms. Cise glared daggers at Avery. “We can and we will.”
“Good,” Avery said through gritted teeth. When they made it behind Mr. Green's office and into the security room, Lima was paler than ever.
“This is a waste of time,” Ms. Cise declared. “Obviously Avery should be getting detention. Lima is a sweet innocent girl and this is wasting her precious time.”
“It is! Let's go!” Lima cried desperately.
Mr. Green calmly turned on the film. “Innocent until proven guilty.”
We watched the film, and as the minutes ticked by, the guilt and anger on Ms. Cise's face were no longer directed at me.
“LIMA!!”
-837 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TOTAL: 2,295 words

Writing Contest Entry

please do not comment here about this, if you have any feedback please put it on my profile ^.^ -thank you
—–
The Garden

I'm the only one awake in the Garden.
It's been like this since the beginning. I don't remember how long ago the beginning was, only that I woke up, here, in the garden. Everyone else is asleep.
The Garden, at first, was pleasant. There are beautiful flowers and a hedge maze that I now have memorized. I know where every single leaf, every single dead end, and every right turn is. There's also a bench next to a lone oak tree. The oak tree is small. It never grows and I know it never will.
At first, I thought everyone else would wake up. People of all shapes, colors, and sizes. I never knew them and I never would. Every time I look away and look back, someone different will be there. I wonder if they're actually real; if they have a life outside of this one where they sleep in the Garden. I like to imagine their lives, in another reality I can't remember. Is this even a life? A reality? A dream? I can't tell.
Somehow I can't interact with them. I try to tap them, but whenever I try, something stops me. It's different every time. Sometimes it feels like a memory, a memory I could find and pull to my chest and replay in my head. My only real memories are from the Garden. Dull emotions like fear and confusion.
Sometimes I like to pull all the flowers out of their beds and throw the petals out into the Boundary. I can do it as much as I like because just as soon as they vanish, they reappear. The Boundary is just darkness. It sucks everything up and then puts them right back where they belong. If I try to throw myself into it, I'll just be tossed right back to where I was standing. Sometimes it's my entertainment.
I'm not sure what the point of this is. If there is a point, which there probably isn't. Is it a dream? A punishment? It feels like neither. It only feels like forever.
I wish I could escape. I wish I could have a way of leaving this forever. Any way. Cutting myself with the pointy leaves of the hedges doesn't work. It's not definite why. It just doesn't work. Neither does climbing the tree and jumping off. I just land and get back up again. All I get is the pain for half a second, but no permanent damage. Nothing is ever permanent. Everything always becomes the same again.
Time is relative here. At least that's what I think. I can't keep track of anything. I don't even know if time is passing, because everything becomes so similar, and nothing ever changes except for my beliefs. All my memories and experiences are so alike that they get jumbled together. The familiar feeling I know too well as deja vu comes so often I don't even acknowledge it anymore.
At the center of the maze is a birdbath. It never has birds but it always has water. I like to cup my hands in the water and drink it like I'm normal. I don't need it, but it feels so calming to have something running through me. I don't know where it goes and I don't think I will ever care. There are many things I won't ever care about.
I've climbed on the bench and onto the top of the hedge maze. I can see the whole Garden from up there. Walking around up there used to frighten me. It doesn't anymore. I know if I fall I will get right back up. Sometimes I fall backward off the top of the hedge maze into the Boundary. Purposefully, for the sake of entertainment. If I keep leaning back, I can start a loop. Sometimes my life feels like that loop. If the Garden even qualifies as life.
I can break the branches off of the tree. Sometimes I make little houses and towers out of them. Whenever I look away from the sticks, they disappear, and the branches grow back on the tree. I once tried throwing sticks at the people. It didn't do anything. It just vanished when I turned away and everything went back to normal.
I like to hear the sound of my voice. In the Garden, everything is quiet. So quiet. There's nothing to rattle the trees. The people don't make any noises either. Sometimes I sing. Sometimes just talking to myself helps even out my emotions. I can scream as loud as I want and nobody will care. Nobody will wake up. Everyone is always asleep. I'm the only one awake in the Garden.
It's been like this since the beginning.
I've struggled with the meaning of eternity. I used to think there was no such thing. But in the Garden, there most definitely is.
-814 words

WEEKLY 11/23
———————

Part 1:


Jin = Creaty @S_theCreator || she/her
Sina= Sushi @melovesushi || unknown (does not mention, I am going to call them she/her, sorry if those aren't your pronouns!)
~~~~

Jin runs in, her straight brown hair and billowy black dress flying behind her. The dress has mud and scratches etched into the skirt, and her hair is up in a ponytail, sprinkled with leaves and little piles of dirt. She is holding a large butterfly net caked in more mud and fit with several wretched tears.
“HAVE YOU SEEN MY FLYING PIG?!” she demands, stepping into a clear blue puddle that instantly turns brown because of her blue rubber boots that are drenched in mud. “PLEASE, THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT!!”
She is in the Main SWC garden, approaching Sina, who is writing on her laptop on a wooden bench.
“Ooh,” Sina says thoughtfully, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “I think I saw it flying over Hogwarts while I was writing my daily on one of their canoes, which are quite easy to snatch, by the way. You should chase it before the gnomes capture it!” Then she goes back to typing.
Jin smashes her blue boots again into the mushy puddle, getting some muddy water on Sina's laptop. “Those gnomes! Sina, will you help me find my pig??”
Sina suddenly looks up, startled, wiping some of the mud off her screen. She closes the laptop, puts it on the bench, and then jumps to her feet, still staring at the sky. “I don't think you'll have any trouble! Look up!”
Jin and Sina look up to see little gnomes with wings carrying a squirming pink pig almost completely engulfed in mud. His white angelic wings seem to be caked in so much mud they're too heavy to help him fly.
“HEY! YOU *! GET OFF OF MY FLYING PIG!” Jin shouts, stomping in her puddle as she shakes her fist at the sky.
The gnomes let out tiny little gnome laughs, snickering as they race away. “ARRGH! What are you waiting for, Sina!? Follow them!”
Sina, startled from being splashed with muddy water so much, squirts some mud out of her dark brown hair and nods. “Let's go.”

The two friends run out of the garden and into the open road, where there isn't a car in sight, just many jumbled signposts. “They're heading towards the Fantasy cabin!” Jin shouts. “KEEP UP, SINA! THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!”
Sina grumbles to herself but anyways follows Jin as she sprints down the path to Fantasy. “Ouch! Who threw mud?” Sina looks around to find a small gnome encircling her, fit with five mudballs, all packed and ready to be thrown. He laughs a little squeaky laugh.
“Not today, sir! I've had enough mud!!” Sina cries, grabbing two mudballs and hurtling one at his mouth and the other at his eyes. The gnome flaps his wings to stay in the air but still falls back, stunned. “That should be enough for now,” Sina mumbles before catching up to Jin.
Jin was covered in mudballs, and mud kept being thrown at her clothing, but Jin kept going, her drenched boots splashing more mud and mucky water into the sky and onto Sina.
“Wait, I have an idea,” Sina says, moving out of the range of Jin's splashes. Jin keeps running, but Sina stops. She climbs up a short pine tree and begins running across the branches of all the other trees, which is quite dangerous, but she didn't really mind.
“JIN!” she yells to the figure below. “GIVE ME YOUR NET!”
Jin tosses her net up at Sina, who catches it and begins picking up speed. Soon she becomes in line with the gnomes. When the time is right, or to her just a random time, she leaps off the branches and hooks Jin's net onto the pig, who squeals. Now Sina is hanging off of the flying gnomes, holding onto the handle of the net for dear life.
The flying gnomes stop flying, and hover in midair, startled by the sudden extra weight. Very slowly, they fall to the ground. When they do, Jin rushes to take her net back, which now has her treasured flying pig.
-676 words

Part 2:


fairy tales
Note: I love writing in gardens so much…
——

After the bridge, the music keeps playing.
It becomes darker, heavier, with the presence of an antagonist to come.
You step back, about to reconsider your choice of coming into the garden, but the bridge is gone.
You almost fall into the churning water, but something catches you.
Someone catches you.
He has white-blonde hair and has an heir of mystery that amazes you. His eyes are a fierce green, and his clothes are royal white and blue.
“I'm Antagio,” he says, pulling you up and away from the creek. “Welcome to the Fairy Tale Garden, where truths are falsehoods and falsehoods become truths.”
You look into his eyes. He seems just like your fairy tale prince. But in the Fairy Tale Garden, things are quite unlike what they seem.
You follow him through winding trails of trees, mushrooms, stones, and misty flowers. The music becomes careful, frigid. You barely listen to its warning tone. Antagio is wonderful.
Suddenly he stops at a fork. Your laughs die down, and his do too. “One path leads to the antagonists' fortress. The other to the protagonists' safe zone. You are to choose.”
He puts his hands behind his back and begins to walk down the right path. Wooed by his charms, you willingly follow, laughing with delight.
“You've made the right choice,” Antagio says as the music becomes suspenseful. You catch an odd emotion in his voice, but you cast it off. You run right beside your prince charming, eager to see where he's taking you.
Finally, the winding trail begins to open, and you spot a light. Something pauses you in your step. The light is bright. TOO bright. The music comes to a dark rumble. Without thinking, you turn on your heel and run back down the path.
“You have already chosen!” Antagio laughs from behind you. “You cannot take it back!”
'In the Fairy Tale Garden,' you think. ‘Truths are falsehoods and falsehoods are truths’
You keep running.
You find the second path and race down it, finally making it to a lively garden. This is the true test. And you have passed it.
-355 words

Part 3:

———


“This is all we've got?” you ask. You are in the underground storage facility of backup generators. There are only a few light bulbs and the air conditioning is barely on.
30 people, including you, have survived to help complete tasks, earn crystals, and buy parts. You have little hope, but you know there is light at the end of your collapsing tunnel. You just have to reach for it.
A determined girl with turquoise and black hair steps up beside you on the generator you're sitting on. Her name is Eevee, and she is determined to help. “We can do this,” she promises everyone. She heads over to the whiteboard where the ethereal beings had put up some tasks. There were thirty pens and thirty bushels of paper. After looking at the posted task, Eevee grabs a pen and a bushel of paper then walks back into the crowd.
A girl with waved light brown hair and blue eyes steps to where Eevee had once been. Her name is Clare, and she is ready to complete the tasks. She makes eye contact with you, nods, and grabs a pen along with some paper.
A few of the people begin to leave, giving you less than before. But one by one, everyone starts coming up to get a pen and paper. The tasks have begun.
You are surprised that most of the tasks have to do with writing. There is a task worth 2 crystals that requires you to write a story about a fruit that can't use grammar. When you are done, you take your piece of paper up into the hot surface of your Earth where there is a turn-in box. You fold your paper in half, write your name in big bold letters, and then drop it in.
-301 words

Part 4:

Nobody is based on anybody, I have made completely new campers, hosts, leaders, and co-leaders.
——–

I've finally made it. My mom drops me off at the wooden white gates. “Have fun!” she exclaims, but I only grumble. Her car drives off out of the wilderness of this forest I'm standing in, my bags sprawled all over the dirt. Half of me hopes someone will come out of those white gates and take me in, and half of me hopes nobody comes for me.
This will be like all the other camps I've been to. Boring, tiring, and with people who eat wood and ants. I heave all three of my duffel bags over my shoulders and then grab one roller backpack in each hand. The gates are creaked open by a girl with poofy blue hair tied in a fluffy ponytail, dark blue eyes, and faintly dark skin. She has bright blue gloves that don't cover the fingers, a plaided dark blue skirt, and a light blue crop top with black underneath. She's wearing black boots that click on the concrete underneath the gates.
“Hello,” she says to me. “I'm Lorrie, one of your hosts for this session of WC.” She then turns behind the gates, which she has only cracked open. I can't see anything behind them. “Well, come on then!” she whispers to someone behind the gates. “Get those cucumbers off your eyes and come over here!”
A girl appears in the crack in the gate. She has wavy blonde hair that falls past her waist, green eyes, and fair skin. She's wearing a white dress that unfolds past her knees. The dress has lime crisscrosses and collars, and the long sleeves drape below her wrist. “Good morning. You're quite early, aren't you,” she says.
“Emily! Don't be rude,” Lorrie hisses quietly, but I definitely hear her.
“Sorry!” Emily exclaims. She smiles genuinely at me. “I'm Emily Lux, another host for this session. The co-hosts are all in the Main Cabin, preparing things for the campers!”
“What's your name?” Lorrie asks, pulling up a clipboard clipped with thick bushels of paper.
“Evangeline Chris,” I say.
Lorrie flips a few pages and then her face lights up. “Ah! Evangeline. Welcome to Writing Camp. You're in the Fantasy Cabin this year!”
'WC is Writing Camp? That's what that stands for?' I think.
Lorrie lets the door whisk open. My jaw drops when I see what's past them, and she smiles at my shocked expression.
I'm facing a beautiful treehouse, with rich dark wood and windows everywhere. It is circled by a center of white concrete, leading into fifteen different paths. In between the paths are beautiful gardens and small little buildings that could be anything. The forest seems to live in sync with the camp, and I can easily spot little cafes that sit happily near the large treehouse.
“This is the Main Cabin!” Emily exclaims, rushing over to the treehouse and gesturing to its beautiful wooden door. “You can come over here when you're done checking in with your cabin and getting to know your leaders and co-leaders.
”Can I take any of your bags for you?“ Lorrie offers. I let all my bags fall onto the concrete. ”EMILY! CAN YOU BRING ME A BUGGY?“
”Sure thing!“ Emily replies, and bounds away to bring us a buggy.
”You have quite a lot of bags,“ Lorrie comments. I don't reply. I just pull my blue cloak further over my shoulders.
Emily bounds in with a large blue buggy. It looks a bit like a shopping cart except Emily is driving it. ”Hop in the back with your stuff!“ she says to me. ”Lorrie, want to come?“
Lorrie shakes her head. ”With all her bags, I don't think I would fit!“
It's probably true. The buggy is about 4 square feet wide, maybe smaller, and my bags take up half while I take up the other half.
”Okay then. You all ready, Evan?“ Emily asks, preparing to start the buggy again. I hate when people call me Evan. Eva, Evan, Angeline, I hate all of those names. My name is Evangeline.
”Sure,“ I grumble.

When we make it to the Fantasy Cabin, I find that it's not much of a cabin at all. It is literally a mushroom on the ground. A large one, about as tall as me, but still, it's a mushroom.
”Um-“ I start, but Emily is already knocking on the stem of the mushroom.
”Yoohoo!“ she exclaims. Nothing happens. ”Oh, relax! I'm not here to prank you yet! It's just a camper.“
After a few silent seconds, a head pops out of the mushroom stem. She has black curtain bangs and long black hair. Her eyes are dark brown and she's looking around, confused.
”A camper? At this time? I thought they were coming this afternoon!“ she exclaims. Suddenly she walks straight out.
”Well, this one decided to come early,“ Emily sighed.
”Okay, then. What's your name?“ the girl asks as two other girls step out of the mushroom.
”I'm Evangeline Chris,“ I say.
”Evangeline…“ the girl looks up as if reciting something in your head. ”Aha! Evangeline! You're in Team Mushroom, with me. I'm Jolie, and this is Cheshire and Maleficent.“
”Jolie!“ one of the girls exclaims. She has curly pink hair and bright blue eyes. She's wearing roller skates and a pink roller skating outfit.
”What?“ Jolie replies. ”I thought we were going with the whole fantasy names!“
The girl with pink curls shakes her head. ”M-mm. I am NOT Cheshire. Nuh-uh, no way.“ She looks at me. ”Hi, I'm Lindsay, and this is my friend Mali. Mali does NOT stand for Maleficent if you were wondering.“
Mali looks up at me and smiles. She has wavy dark hair and dark green eyes. She is wearing a green polo and a black skirt. There are dark green rollerblades on her feet, but she doesn't seem as strong on them as Lindsay does, so she's leaning on her for support. ”Hey,“ she says to me. ”I am in fact Mali. But you can call me Maleficent.“
”Mali!“ Lindsay exclaims. Mali raises an eyebrow and Lindsay sighs. ”Then call me Cheshire.“
Jolie smiles and giggles. ”Okay, come on inside. There's plenty to do, and I'm sure you will LOVE Fantasy Cabin.
-1039 words


–Total: 2,452

This is an excerpt of the first chapter of the second book in my series, from the perspective of the character Kat. (aka princess Scythia, but spoilers are unwelcome here so)
NOTE: IF YOU ARE NOT A HOST JUDGING, PLEASE DO NOT READ. THANK YOUUU!
warning: LONG
if you are in a rush read only until the first or second three dashes (—)
if you don't understand things, that is OK. keep in mind this is a tiny tiny excerpt of the first chapter of the SECOND book. not the first. Varweil is pronounced VAR-wayl (wayl like whale)

I mean this in the nicest way possible, but… Varweil sucks. Third from the bottom of the castes, it’s just one giant village with no technology and no access to the outside world, basically a village with only one small farm gated with electric metal. The farm isn’t even that good. It only has potatoes. I don’t like potatoes. Oh, and carrots. I’m allergic to carrots.
Besides those annoying factors, the only other food they have is duck meat, which you rarely get because everyone always fights to get it, splashing through that mucky pond to choke those poor little chickens to death.
I have Katherine with me, but her accent is getting increasingly bothersome, and she’s always chattering about something I don’t really care about. I wish Diane was with me instead of her.
Ignore that.
“Hey, Kat, I hear there’s a juicy duck in the pond this morning,” Katherine said, putting her curly hair into a ponytail. “Wanna go about killing it?”
I gave her an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not up to it today. Can’t we just go crop some potatoes?”
Katherine scrunched up her face. “Potatoes are gross. Neither of us likes them. Plus they’re so small, and they only let you take two. I want a juicy duck.”
“You want a juicy duck,” I echoed blandly, twirling a black dagger in my hand.
“Yes,” Katherine confirmed.
I shook my head. We were sitting in a small treehouse. Well, it wasn’t really a treehouse, just more of a few wooden planks and some doors that acted as walls. If you pushed on one, it would tip, and maybe even someday fall.
“Come on, you have the daggers for it. At least give me a dagger!” Katherine protested.
It’s true. I did like using my daggers, and I hadn’t felt them break skin in a while so they were feeling a little dull in my hand. I threw one in the air and caught the blade in between my middle and index finger.
“Fine,” I said. And so it was settled.

—

The pond was a sad little place where most people got water. Katherine and I did the sensible and yet quite embarrassing thing by drinking the leaves when it rained, and it rained about 99% percent of the time.
Except for today, it was bluntly sunny, far too cheerful for my kind of dark eyes. The light reflected off of the brown pond, which was about twice as big as the magic carpet, except with a tiny flat of land in the center and a maze of tall grass that made it impossible to find anything. There were people swimming around with sticks, ducking under the water (gross), and stomping around on the circle of land. That meant the chase had begun.
“So much for coming here at the break of dawn,” I scowled at Katherine as she waded into the murky waters and then jumped right back out before her tail could form.
“The water’s hot…” she mumbled.
“That’s not my fault,” I scoffed, using my dagger to cut off most of my jeans and the sleeves of my jacket. “Where do these juicy ducks normally hide?”
“Umm, somewhere in the tall grass. Never near the island, or the edge. That’s what Ratter said,” Katherine chirped.
“Can we trust this Ratter?” I asked.
Katherine paused for a second. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
I sighed. “That’s a no. Let’s look towards the edges and the center island.”
Katherine rolled her eyes. “Sure, go ahead and fail. Can you give me one of your daggers?”
“No.”
I walked into the pond until I had to tread, then paddled over to the center. The smell of the murky water flashed back to a moment when I was still a teenager, clueless to what the world actually was, what my father actually was. I closed my eyes, remembering the school creek where Laureen and I used to chat and toss skipping stones, a memory so far away I couldn’t remember my old warrior-maiden’s face. Then we grew older together, staying friends. She grew grey and old, and I shapeshifted to follow her, unsure why she seemed weaker each year.
Then one day, she was gone. I woke up to her last breath. This was when I changed. I flew straight into my father’s arms, who taught me all the cruel rules of his land, how to be queen if I once decided I wanted to, how to kill without a thought, and enforce laws.
Suddenly mom was dead. And I drifted from my father, keeping still some of his beliefs as barriers grew, barriers in between me and my Warrior Maidens, who died far too quickly, mostly unnaturally. I would separate myself from everyone, crying in an old underground room that I turned into my home. Sometimes I starved, fearing that if I left my father would find me. One day, he did, when I was out shopping for food and supplies.
He was buying clothes for the daughters of two mothers who had disobeyed, not wanting them to be covered by just a blanket at the formal executions. He would have killed them at the execution of their mothers, but I took them from him, crying, a day when my mental health had spiraled downward, saying I would raise them as my warrior-maidens. There was one with wolf ears and a fluffy tail and another with cat ears and a slithery tail. I put all my focus into raising them, I raised them like a mother, letting my heart soften a tiny bit, becoming friends, never telling them that I was the one that rescued them from my stonehearted dad.
My father sent out searches for me, and as soon as I walked into the street, there would be soldiers marching up to take me to him. Despite my hatred for my murderer of a dad, I listened as he explained the beautiful young woman who had brought him a teleporting coin. He taught me how to use the coin, and, mystified, I didn’t contradict me as he told me of the 19 other items similar to these, and that all of them could bring him into the world of the Mother of Magic, which was someplace he could take over and rule the world.
I wanted the items. This is what fueled me into agreeing to find them for him. He gave me endless supplies, money, and help. I didn’t need any of it, but I took the money anyway, promised I’d return, and left, hoping never to return.
There was a sudden flutter of feathers that snapped me back to Varweil’s pond.
The duck! I could see small bubbles of air, and a small flipper near the center of the middle island.
“What do you see?” someone on the island asked. “Is it the duck?”
At the mention of the duck, someone pushed me from behind. I fell face-first into the water. When I opened my eyes, I could see through the brown water, the shiny flippers of that juicy duck Katherine wanted. Then someone punched me. I grimaced, remembering when I was 76, swimming in my father’s aquarium and getting stung by a jellyfish.
Thinking back to that pain, I morphed into what I remembered, a blobby pink head with long, stringy, and purple tentacles. The hand that had been hitting me jumped back, and I swam down to the bottom of the pond. It took me a while to get used to breathing in the filthy water which no creature should ever be swimming in, but once I did, I began searching for the duck.
I caught a flicker of movement near the sandy bottom. I swam down further to find that it was Katherine, her long tail helping her move around. Her eyes set off an iridescent glow, probably the reason she could see.
Her mouth moved as if she was speaking, but I couldn’t hear her because of being a jellyfish without ears. I twisted back into myself and nodded at Katherine. I can breathe underwater, I thought, remembering visiting Katherine’s old home.
Even in the murky, ‘hot’ water, she seemed pretty relaxed as she sifted through the sand, collecting tiny pink shells.
“I think the duck is this way,” she said, her melodic voice echoing across the waters.
“Your skills have been helpful so far,” I mouthed sarcastically, water gushing into my lungs. Katherine either ignored me or didn’t notice as she swam away into the dark water.
I followed her bright tail to a spot in a small cavern underneath the center island of land. Inside, there was a pocket of air where I found five ducks: two adults and three tiny ducklings. Katherine was crouching in the small cavern, smiling at them.
“You can’t kill these,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t ruin these duckling’s childhood just like that, would you? Even if you just killed one of them, that would break apart the whole family. A single mother or father fending for themselves in a place like this?” Katherine shook her head. “They wouldn’t survive.”
I thought back to my own childhood when my mother was killed and my life fell apart.
“Please don’t kill them, Kat,” Katherine begged.
“I won’t,” I promised. “You’re right. I don’t want to break up this family.” I pulled a few carrots out of my pocket, which I had been saving up because I was tired of potatoes and hadn’t tested my allergies in a while. I snapped them into pieces and threw all four of the carrots to the ducks. They dove in, very literally, and I watched as the mother made sure all her ducklings got food before she took a bite herself. I felt tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.
“Kat… are you crying?” Katherine asked, totally ruining the moment.
“No,” I protested. “It’s just the water. Come on, let’s go.”

—

“I’m hungry now,” Katherine murmured as we made our way back to the treehouse.
“Well, I just spent my carrots for today and yesterday. Do you still have your potato?” I asked.
“I thought you didn’t like potatoes,” Katherine reminded me.
“I don’t,” I agreed. “But I’ve endured weeks without food. A day isn’t going to cause me any trouble. I’m just checking for you.”
Katherine gave me a questioning look. “Since when do you care about me?”
This question startled me. “What are you talking about?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re kind of like someone who doesn’t really care about other people that much, only herself.”
Anger flickered through my chest. “And how do you think that?” I asked in a warning tone.
Katherine opened and closed her mouth. “I mean…”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just your crazy, absurd imagination,” I grumbled, almost to myself but loud enough so she could hear me.
“My imagination is not absurd! Imagination is what fuels the world, and everyone has it… except you, of course,” she snapped.
I scowled. “My imagination is kept to the limits of reality and illusion. I can tell the difference, whereas you clearly cannot.”
Katherine gasped. “Are you calling me delusional?”
“Again, putting words into my mouth!” I spat, crossing my arms. “But yes, you could say delusional. That word is too tiny to explain what you are.”
“And what am I?” she demanded with a threatening tone. Except that she couldn’t threaten me.
“I don’t know, what do you think you are? Because, of course, everything you think becomes your reality!” I exclaimed.
“That is not true! You’re exaggerating by a mile!” Katherine snapped.
“How can you be so sure that it isn’t true? You do think you know everything about me, right?” I shouted.
“Well, now I for sure know you only think of yourself,” Katherine grumbled under her breath.
“I have daggers,” I warned her, and after that, she went quiet.

—

The rest of the early afternoon was pretty quiet and peaceful. Katherine almost burned the potato because she refused my help. We exchanged some pretty snarky comments and then got tired and stared at the midday forest for a while.
I found Katherine near the bottom of our tree studying the edges of sticks. I stepped on a twig and she looked up, startled. When she caught my eye she just grumbled and went back to what she was doing.
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching as she began peeling bark off the edge of one of the sticks.
“Why should you care?” she asked.
“I want to know if I should take you to the nonexistent doctor of Varweil,” I said sarcastically.
Katherine sighed dramatically. “If you must know, I’m finding the sharpest stick,” she explained.
“Why?”
She cast me a look. “I’m thinking of killing one of the ducklings. There are three of them, anyway, I’m sure it would cut a lot of slack for the parents.”
“Katherine!” I exclaimed. “You can’t do that!”
Katherine groaned. “Whyyy? I’m so hungryyyy and all I had today was a slightly burnt potato!”
I rolled my eyes. “Suck it up. You won’t die.”
“Actually, I might-”
I groaned out of exhaustion and left, climbing up the ladder to the treehouse. I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to see everyone again. As much as Katherine didn’t believe it, I did think of people other than myself.

that is alllllllll

Ohh i read the first one the one about candy I love reading so I just decided to start reading this. I love sour patch kids a lot.

I/m more like Freya but I also like music like Corie.

WRITING EXCERPTS : please read the first and if u have time the second bc it's a little better ^v^

:
After the chaos had subsided, and Shya began flying us back somewhere, Diane sat next to me, dangling her legs over the edge of the carpet.
“Don’t do that,” I said suddenly, still staring out into the blue sky. “You could fall.”
“I won’t fall,” Diane promised but pulled her legs underneath her.
“This is unbelievable,” I whispered into the wind. “Aea? Dead? She’s hit many situations where she almost died, but I never expected…” I trailed off.
“Yeah, well, we should keep our eyes looking ahead,” Diane said. “There’s no point dwelling on what once was.”
I scowled at her. “You didn’t know her as well as I did,” I insisted. “You don’t have any remorse, do you?”
Diane paused. “Well, do you?” she countered.
I knew I would have if I hadn’t been alive so long the mere deaths didn’t affect me anymore. I had cried all my tears out from ages 70-to 100, mourning my mother, mourning my Warrior-Maidens, blaming everything on myself, and spending my nights starving and stealing.
It didn’t help that Diane was staring at me with those beautiful dark eyes that made me want to tell her that I felt remorse, yes I had grief. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t lie to her face.
“I… no,” I admitted. “But I bet I’ve been through much more than you.” Dangit, Kat! Stupid! I slapped my hand quickly over my mouth to make sure any more words didn’t spill out.
“I bet you have,” Diane agreed. “You knew her better, though, didn’t you?”
“I guess…”
Diane nodded and stared out into the clouds. I followed her gaze, and we sat there for the rest of the flight.

—
:

At this again.
The light reflects off the river, but I’ve seen it already. The boats drift across the water as they always have, the rowboats, the sailboats, the steamboats.
My husband sits next to me, his gaze stern and quiet. Nothing will break it until evening breathes. He’s a statue until then.
I look down. There’s a knot in my knitting. I sigh and adjust my position, but Frederick still doesn’t shift. He never blinks for the whole five hours we sit here.
“Frederick-” I try, but he holds up his palm, not giving me a glance, and I know I’m to be silent.
I turn my head ever so slightly to see the two stiff soldiers in the distance, their glares boring into my eyes. I flinch and focus back on my knitting.
They’ll take me away if I try to leave. Only when evening arises, when it reaches 6 o’clock, are we allowed to walk home in silence and I must cook dinner.
The man next to us is being rude, and the smell from his pipe is bothering me. I gently cough, but he doesn’t turn, apologize, or acknowledge me. His big black dog sniffs at my skirt. I try to shoo him away, but he ignores me.
All the men here have imaginations of rocks bluntly bleached by the hard sun. Women around me drape parasols across their shoulders, but Frederick won’t let me buy one, even though my hands are scorched red.
“We’ll sit in the shade,” he says at the beginning, every single time I protest. “That saves time and money.”
But the sun always shifts, so at the end of the day, we’re in the sun.
The men stare at the water, while the women knit and watch the children. Only the children can run free, or else you’ll be accused of interrupting the scene. Just in case the king decides to stop by, we must waste five hours of our day, and there shall be absolutely no interrupting the scene.
The king has come only once to our pavilion, four years ago, but just in case he comes again, the scene needs to be perfect. The lords say so.
I wish Frederick would check his watch. I can’t tell if it’s been a minute or an hour. Time is difficult when all you’re doing is knitting and watching. I’m not sure what my pale string has become. It could be a scarf, but it is much too thin for that. A rope, perhaps, for me to finally escape my third-story bedroom.
I am only joking… of course. A thought like that would send me straight to the lords’ prisons.
I tug at my rope. It’s stiff and sturdy. I stretch it out. Not three stories long, mind you, but after a few more days of sitting in the heat, it might reach that.

—

The room was silent. Nobody spoke. All eyes were, as they normally were, avoiding Katheren Oak. But today there was a sense of anger behind that ignorance. Disappointment. The quiet seemed to scream out that something was wrong with this family that sat at a dining table, just simply eating their dinner. Maybe a normal person couldn’t catch it. But to the Oaks, their body language was obvious. Everybody knew what was going on.
Mia’s spoon clattered onto the rim of her white bowl, splashing the soup on it onto the mahogany tablecloth painted with white flowers. Her head darted up and her green eyes widened as the table turned their gazes to her.
“Be careful with your silverware,” Grandmother Aclyn ordered from the head of the table. “Do not disrupt the dinner just because you can’t keep hold of your spoon.”
Mia ducked her head, brunette ringlets falling into her pale face. “Sorry, Grandmother. It will not happen again.” Underneath her curtain of hair, her eyes darted to Katheren, almost blaming her for what had happened.
Grandmother Aclyn calmly returned to her soup.
Katheren’s cheeks flushed, but nobody paid attention. They were all eating, tense and angry. Angry at Katheren.
Next to her, Evlen finished her soup and stood up sharply. She whirled around, her straight, dark hair flying into Katheren’s face. It stung like a whip, but Katheren only blinked her eyes and took a bite of soup.
I wonder if they poisoned this. That would, after all, make things so much easier for them.
The thought was definitely comforting as she kept eating.
The doorbell rang, and Mia almost lost hold of her spoon again. She looked up and gasped. “Th-the Faets?” she whispered.
Grandmother Aclyn’s eyes burrowed into Mia. “No, Mia. Keep your wits together. You’re 10 years of age now, for the sake of Ivlen. It’s another one of Ka- the Curse’s suitors. Hopefully, he will do well for her, or our mansion may just collapse on itself.”

—

March Eveline sat kneeling by the fireplace, her eyes drawn to the massive portrait above her. The painter had been upset at their lack of focus and gave that as an excuse for the horrible paintwork, but March disagreed. To her, the painting was perfect.
The couple in the portrait were mid-laugh, her hand draped across his shoulder as her eyes crinkled into a smile. She stared up at herself. She was younger. Kinder. Now things had changed.
“Please…” she said to the man in the portrait, staring fervently into his mysterious green eyes. “Tell me what to do. I… I don’t know. Things used to be so clear, and now… The future’s blurry. I can’t see you anywhere. It’s like… You’re fading… Are you really dead? Give me a sign… Please. Everyone’s preparing for the funeral, but there isn’t a coffin to bury. Where are you? I know you’re still out there… at least… I thought… Everything’s… so blurry…” March turned away, tears clouding her sight. “Are all of them really right? Did you really die somewhere on your journey, all alone? I don’t believe it. You were supposed to be back seven months ago. You were supposed to figure out why I was… How I could… Who…” March paused, holding her breath.
“Why didn’t you listen to me?!?” she cried. “I tried to warn you!! I TOLD you it was too dangerous!! AND NOW YOU’RE… you’re dead!” She let out a sob, trying not to believe it.
“…You’re really dead…” March turned away from the portrait. “I feel you’re really gone now. Our future together… I’m… I can’t…”
One last look at the man in the picture and March turned and fled, her skirts trailing behind as she ran.
A man with dark green eyes stepped out from behind a corner, a small blade in his hand. He stared at March’s face in the portrait, then at his own. “I’m sorry, March. But it’s just so much better if you don’t remember me.” Then he cut his face out of the portrait.

—

SWC IS HERE! ^.^

here's my introduction: (sorry it wouldn't fit in a comment! :'> )
actually it's more of a life story than an… introduction.

heellooo i'm aleia elise, but most people call me aleia! <3 I'm co-leading non-fi this session (without blush, but we're fine), being led by the amazing @creatiivity! i'm in charge of the printing room, the place where you print all the newspapers. My pronouns are she/her, and I wish I lived in new zealand. (glosstea is so lucky) I love writing, drawing, coding, dancing (especially), acting, singing, and… um, basically anything in the fine arts EXCEPT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. I play the paino piano currently (sorta), but I've also played the ukulele, the recorder (haven't we all?) and the saxophone. (no judging. I SEE U JUDGING.) The ONLY reason I played the saxophone is because my mom didn't want me to play the clarinet because it was too squeaky but I really wanted to because the name of the instrument sounded pretty, :'> so i chose the saxophone instead because it was close enough. I had to play it for 2 whole years because i didn't choose choir, but I got to quit it the next year because we got a bunch more cool new options for electives. Instead of band and a random art, we got to CHOOSE what we took. Well, we got to pick top five for each day (we have two color days) and then the people of the school would decide what we would get. The first semester I got intro to acting (yayyy!) and musical theater (also yayy!) which happened to be by the same teacher, who I also had in the first TRImester for sports because she's the dance teacher. But the next trimester I took tutorial (sports outside of school, so I got a study hall ^>^) for dance. In the second semester, I got one act play (YAYYY!!) and video production. (ALSO YAYYY!) Video production was new for me, and it's the class where I actually made a decision that I'm still figuring out if I regret. (insanely complicated) Basically it's where your class splits into two groups and each of them makes a film. When I entered the classroom for video production the first day of class, there were two sides. A side with all girls, and my friends, and a side with a bunch of 8th grade and 7th grade guys. (oh, yeah, that's right, 7th graders and 8th graders have electives together. Last year I was 7th grade) Naturally, I sat in the side with my friends. And all the super strong girlboss 8th grade leaders. Then it came the day to choose groups. The side I was in had an idea that was pretty darn cool, but the script was basically completed, and all the editing was going to be done by like the fifteen gazillion people in that group that wanted to write, and I wanted to write a lot as well as be an actor. I wanted to have a say. The other side of the room, however, had an amazing idea from an *amazing* person (which I realized later), but was completely disorganized and was in need of a writer. You see where this is going. At first, five other girls were in the other group with me. But then, four of them just left, leaving me with a 7th grade girl who I don't know that well. (she's nice most of the time) Yet I still stayed in that group. Okay, so this was really difficult for me, but it opened me up to so many new things. Also, i got to write the script. The main reason I joined the group. Even if the actors most of the time went off script and made the film… well… you know how guys have their ideas. -_- It was really fun, to get to the point. The director was a guy in 8th grade who had the idea for the film. I thought nobody would talk to me, and it would be a disaster. But… he actually talked to me, asked me for my ideas, and listened to me. I think you know how this story goes. -.- Then, in summer, I had a video production camp at that same place, and to spare you the details, somehow made it into his film group again even though there were 16 other like 5-7 people groups, one of which had literally all my good friends. (to be fair, they wanted to make a spooky film and honestly those creep me out, and the only person who wanted to make a funny film who I knew a little was in his group too ) Anyways, so yeah, we made a film, one of the guys in our group had a really cool drone (don't worry, he had permit and license and all legal things legal), it was amazing, blah blah blah. And it so happens that I'm going out of state to nationals for a latin convention in a few weeks, and the director i've been *so sparingly* talking about is also going. *coff coff* so I've obviously said too much about THAT whole situation. If you've actually read this far I'm proud of you. like really. okay far from depressing stuff, for that latin convention, I'm making a board game to be judged in artwork competitions (it's more of a classics competition than a latin one)! (i'm way too behind because of scratch stuff, but next week i have no camps so I'm hoping to spend 50hrs speedrunning. I have to have it done by the 21st of july) I'm not going to give away what it's about until after it's judged because it's a *surprise*, but it's looking pretty darn good so far. (except i started to color the board and the colors are all wacky, I'm hoping it'll fix after i color the whole thing :0 ) I will update this with like new *amazing* things about my life, which you can read or you can not read, I don't really care. Just don't tell anyone about this, because there are some things in here that are unknown to people in my real life. :0

Have a great day and SWC on!
(that doesn't have the same ring as PoP on tho)

Have a great day and write on!
(no…)

Have a great day and keep writing!
(therr we goo)

Daily 7/1/22

—

“Will pigs fly?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Good to know

—

”MARY MARY HALP!“
”WHAT. I'M KNITTING.“
”MAAAAAAAAAAARYYYYYYY!“
”FINE. WHAT DO YOU NEED.“
”SOMETHING DENTED OUR ROOF!!“
”WHAT.“
”I DUNNO!! COME HELP ME FIGURE IT OUT!!“
”NO.“
”WHY??“
”I'M KNITTING.“
”NOOOOOO. STOP KNITTING!“
”NO.“
”IT'S BREAKING THE ROOF!!“
”WHERE.“
”IN THE DINING ROOM!!“
”NEEDS REMODELING ANWAY.“
”MAAAAAAAAAAAAAARYYYYYYY!!!“
”FINE! I'M COMING.“
Mary threw her half-finished hat onto the table and stormed out of the office, where Joline was carrying a ladder from the garage.
”JOLINE WHAT ARE YOU DOING.“
”I'M CLIMBING UP!!“
”THAT'S RIDICULOUS.“
”WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!?“
The two girls climbed up to the roof, where there was a struggling pink thing near the chimney.
”WHAT IS THAT.“
”THAT'S WHAT FELL ONTO OUR ROOF!!“
”DUH.“
”IT'S A PIG!!! EWWW!!“
”AWW. CUTE.“
”NO! NOT CUTE!! DISGUSTING!! PUSH IT OFF THE ROOF, MARY!!“
”HOW DID IT GET UP HERE?“
”KNOCK IT OFF THE ROOF NOWWW I DON'T WANNA TOUCH ITT!!!“
”ARE THOSE WINGS?“
”MAAAAAAAAARYYYYYYYYYYYYY.“
”WHAT.“
”GET IT AWAYYYYYYY!!“
”IT'S A FLYING PIG!“
”HUH? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?“
”LOOK AT THE LITTLE WINGS.“
”UHHH…“
”WHAT?“
”I OWE A LOT OF PEOPLE A LOT OF THINGS. DO WE HAVE ANY 4000 YEAR OLD STAMPS?“
”I'M PRETTY SURE STAMPS DIDN'T EXIST BACK THEN…?“
”WELL PIGS ARE FLYING SO ANYTHING'S POSSIBLE!!!“
”JOLINE, BE CAREFUL. WE'RE STILL ON A ROOF-“
Joline bounced down to the small piglet and picked it up. It started squirming in her hands. She fidgeted with it's faint white wings.
”HOW DID THESE GET ON YOU?!“
”SQUEAK, SQUEAK!!!“
”JOLINE…“
”MARY HELP ME!! IT'S SLIMYYY!!“
Mary scooted down the roof and snatched the pig from Joline.
”THESE ARE REAL WINGS.“
”THEY MUST BE TAPED ON!!“
”STOP, YOU'RE HURTING IT!“
”WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THIS PIG??“
”LET'S START WITH GETTING IT OFF THE ROOF.“
”HEY, ONE OF ITS WINGS SNAPPED!“
”IT NEEDS A VET.“
”DON'T BE RIDICULOUS, MARY!! WE CAN'T TELL ANYONE!!“
”JOLINE…“
”WHAT?!?“
”WHERE'D THE LADDER GO?“
”…“
”WELL, NOW WE'RE STUCK.“
”WITH THE PIG!!“
”MAYBE IT CAN GRANT WISHES.“
”GOOD THINKING!!! PIG WITH WINGS, CAN I HAVE A SMOOTHIE PLEASE?!“
”I WAS BEING SARCASTIC.“
”OINK.“
”ISN'T IT KIND OF SMALL FOR A PIG???“
”IT'S A BABY PIG.“
”OH. NICE!! IT'S SO CUTE!!“
”I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS DISGUSTING- HEY- GIVE THAT BACK!!“
”NOOOOOOO!!!“
”YOU'RE GOING TO FALL OFF THE ROOF, JOLINE!“
”OIIIIIINK!!“
”SHUT UP MARY, YOU'RE UPSETTING THE PIG!!“
”I'M UPSETTING THE PIG?! YOU'RE CARRYING IT LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES!!“
”WELL YOU'RE CHASING IT LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES!!“
”IM CHASING YOU, NOT THE PIG, IDIOT!!“
”YOU'RE THE IDIOT!!“
”AM NOT!!“
”ARE TOO!!“
”JUST GIVE ME THE PIG, JOLINE!!“
”NOOOOOOO!!!"

-449 words

Daily 7/3/22

–

It was a regular wednesday at video production camp. As an actor, I was going out to the soccer fields with the director of our group, an upcoming 9th grader, let's call him Alex, (Not his real name) to film some shots without the drone of my argument with another actress. I get to call her a freak >:] but only after she calls my bestie a freak >:0 it's complicated. Anyways, we're passing over the bridge that runs over the gated creek when these 4 or 5 year olds from a different camp walk up to us. “Our ball is in the creek. Can you get it for us?” They ask. Without a beat, alex jumps over the fence (like a freaking movie star adsddfghsdfg) and runs to the creek. “I don't see it.” He proclaims, after searching for little while. At this point, the cinematographer has come in, so I chuck the camera I had been carrying for him into his hands. Then I jump the fence, (not as heroically as alex but still heroically) and help him look. When he finds it, he slides down the creek. “I don't want to fall in.” He says. the ball is tucked near an unstable triangle of grass (couldn't tell if it was land or just tall grass if you know what I mean) and floating in the water. He climbs back up, about to apologize to the kids, but then I run and slide down the thorns to the edge of the creek, where there is a steep drop into the creek. I jump to a rock near the middle of the roof. “Careful, the rock's unstable,” Alex warns me. I grab the ball and toss it to him, and then Ieap onto the side of the creek slope, holding onto the thorns tightly as I climb up. The kids are so cute when they get their ball back! ^^

-323 words

Weekly 7/3/22

P1

So this is my part, but I'm assuming i still have to do it xD I'm going to use the character sheet I made in my workshop but create a new scenario fanfic on Sophie.

–character sheet–

Sophie Foster - character sheet (books 1-8.5)
Series continuing or ended? : Continuing

Pronouns - she.her
Sexuality - straight
Species - elf

Strengths: cares about her friends, strong power, really clever with ideas

Weaknesses: tries to do things by herself, doesn't think things through, leaves some of her friends out sometimes, keeps secrets from the people she cares about

General view on life (free, not hateful, hateful): not hateful

Tendencies -

Tends to go off on her own without telling anyone or thinking things through.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving slowly

Generally turns to one out of a few select friends for important things.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving quickly

Tends to keep secrets and things bothering her to herself, keeps her thoughts and emotions blocked.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving little

Situations - *optional but highly recommended*
(Choose 3+ common things)

One of her friends gets hurt :
Emotions: anger, vengeance, sadness
Awareness of others (beside the friend): little to none
Next step: something crazy to try and save them, generally involves almost dying and not thinking things through/ revenge on the Neverseen or whoever hurt her friend
Outcome: often gets hurt and another friend gets badly hurt as well, but something small is accomplished, parental figures are mad

The Neverseen sends her a message :
Emotions: determination, overconfidence (or sometimes underconfidence)
Awareness of others: some to little, mostly only the people who she is dragging into things
Next step: follows the note, and the more severe or related to her the note is the more likely she is to go alone without telling anyone, but there is growth in her communication
Outcome: if she goes alone and doesn't think things through, bad outcome. If she involves the black swan and thinks things through, okay to good outcome, some sacrifices made.

Romantic struggles :
Emotions: fear, overprotection, oblivion
Awareness of others: tunnelvisions to only the people she has opened her mind to like
Next step: absolutely fricking nothing
Outcome: waits for others to come to her, plays out however the other character(s) choose to act

—

Situation: Sophie, Keefe, and Fitz are thrown into a sudden investigation for alicorns

Characters: (new, same): same
Storyline: (in the middle of the storyline, resolved): resolved
World: (changed, same, issue resolved): resolved
^^basically this means they're the same characters in the same world, but all the previous issues are non-existent/resolved^^

oo

“Keefe, I don't see why you have to come,” Fitz said again.
“If Foster's going, then I'm going,” Keefe declared.
Fitz narrowed his eyes and draped his arm over Sophie's shoulder.
“Plus, I'm great at connecting with alicorns. Glitter but loves me! Isn't that right, Foster?”
Sophie slid out from under Fitz's arm. “Yeah.” Ever since Oralie had left the council and Sophie had registered for a match, Fitz had been spending more time with her. It was absurd. She was tempted to melt into his arms and forgive him for what he had said, but something inside restrained her.
She kept walking. “Come on, there was a rumor of an alicorn sighting somewhere near this forest…”
The two boys exchanged a glance as Sophie trudged ahead of them.
“Hurry up,” Sophie snapped, rubbing her temples. As exciting as finding an alicorn might be, she really wasn't in the mood to be searching the whole day. Edaline had woken her up at 5:15 in the morning with no warning whatsoever the day before.
“It could leave by the afternoon!” Edaline had explained. “You have to start searching now!”
Edaline had managed to drag both Keefe and Fitz to Havenfield, who arrived looking perfect and ready to jump into action, while Sophie stood there with her messy hair and lazy, probably mismatched outfit.
So she was not in the mood to mess around.
“Sophie, why all the anger?” Keefe asked.
“Yeah, you've been kind of snappy lately,” Fitz agreed.
“I've been snappy?” Sophie exclaimed, whirling around. “Well, I'm sorry for being exhausted at 6am in the morning!”
“Not just today. You've been kind of… distant,” Fitz said.
“Kind of distant?” Sophie echoed.
“Uh-oh,” Keefe mumbled. “Wrong choice of words, Fitz.”
“The day after I registered for the match lists you started paying attention to me again. Before, it was like you hardly knew me. Now you're acting like nothing happened, just because I signed up for some stupid matchmaking thing?”
“Look, Sophie, I'm willing to forgive you-”
Sophie laughed. “Forgive me?”
Fitz nodded. “For not registering earlier.”
Sophie paused, dumbfounded. “I'm not the one who needs to apologize.”
Keefe fanned the air. “Feeling like a third wheel here,” he said.
“Shut up, Keefe,” Fitz growled.
“Leave Keefe out of this,” Sophie snapped. “Not registering for the match was MY choice. If I had registered, Oralie would have been kicked off the council, and we wouldn't have been able to use the council to save Keefe from the whole legacy thing, and without Keefe we wouldn't have been able to defeat the Neverseen.”
“True,” Keefe butted in.
“And my dad,” she continued, still unwilling to say his name, “Well, let's just say things would not have gone well for him.”
Fitz looked down.
“Are you going to apologize?” Sophie demanded.
“But you registered for the match anyway,” Fitz protested, ignoring the question. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?” Keefe echoed, seeming genuinely curious.
“Because I thought it would be interesting, just to see who the Lost cities think I should be with. And if I did ever fall in love… well I want to have them, just in case.”
Fitz laughed. “I don't believe that.”
Sophie glared. “Fine. Believe what you will. But we have an alicorn to look for.”

-545 words


–

P2

Random: wings of fire
Two characters:
Sundew
Mandrake
Relationship: previously betrothed
Situation: them being told that they are betrothed.

Sundew : sundew is a strong, powerful dragon. She talks confidently and powerfully, and is always aggressive with her words and actions. She likes to make people feel like they are lesser than her, but she's never overly aggressive, even though she acts like it with her loud, boisterous voice. When talking to her father or her mother, she still acts powerful, but they treat her like she's less powerful than them. She doesn't take the time to contemplate her actions, and generally takes the fighting path. She lets her voice be heard by everyone, even the people who don't want to hear it. Her words are funny because they're rarely ever thought through and most of the time led by revenge or fun. She thinks her beliefs are the only ones that exist, but this is changing in the storyline.

Mandrake : nervous, polite, with weak leafspeak. Almost the opposite of sundew. He is different than most leafwings, by the fact that he's quiet and doesn't shout. He's passive with his words and tends to listen to others around him. If he has many opinions, he doesn't make them apparent, he mostly tags onto other dragon's opinions. When it comes to other dragon's, he treats them like they are better than him, and he has low expectations for himself. He wishes he were stronger, and he tries, but he is too passive to make much of a difference. He is careful and clever with his actions.

oo

Sundew :

“Sundew, we have something to tell you. Meet us at the circle when the sun is mid-sky,” Belladonna announced, poking her head into Sundew's sleeping room.
“Huh?” Sundew grumbled, rolling off the bed and landing on the ground with a thump.
“Don't come out until you've cleaned your scales.”
“Huh?” Sundew said again, shaking her head and jumping to her feet. “What's going on?” She asked.
“Nothing, sundew,” Belladonna mumbled. “Just something very important. Please hurry.”
“Is it about the hive wings?!” Sundew squeaked.
“No,” Belladonna sighed, and Sundew's wings drooped. “It's just as exciting and important, though.”
“Really?!” Sundew exclaimed.
“Yes, so go wash your scales before everyone leaves about it before you,” Belladonna ordered.
Sundew growled. “I'll be the first there, I know it!” Then she trotted off to the stream to wash her scales.

Sundew and Belladonna were there far too early, so Belladonna let sundew but a few carnivorous plants from the forum.
Finally, when the sun had just tipped in the sky, dragons started to appear. Belladonna dragged sundew onto the platform in the center and scanned the crowd. Hemlock was leading Mandrake and his father through the crowd.
What are they doing here? Sundew thought as they were brought onto the platform next to her.
Mandrake caught her eyes, surprised.
“Mother, what's he doing here?” Sundew demanded.
“You'll see,” Belladonna replied.
Hemlock cleared his throat to get the crowd's attention.
“Hello fellow leaf wings. As you know, mandrake and sundew here are our two most powerful leafspeakers. Sundew especially.”
Sundew tilted her head at Mandrake. Powerful?
“We are here to unite them so that one day there will be someone even more powerful than them who can help us defeat the hive wings!”
The crowd cheered.
“What is he saying?” Sundew whispered to Belladonna, fearing the worst.
“Once they come of age, these two will be married!” Hemlock announced.
Sundew gasped in shock. “You wouldn't!”
“I'm sorry, but it's already been decided,” Belladonna said.
Sundew leaped off the stage and flew back to her hut.

oo

Mandrake :

“Mandrake! There's an important announcement today! Stop writing in your journal and get ready!” Mandrake's mother shouted from another room.
Mandrake frowned. “All their announcements are stupid. I'm not going.”
“Yes you are, mandrake. You're part of the announcement!”
Mandrake's head shot up. “What? Me? What did I do?”
“Nothing! Oh, I'm so proud of you… hurry up!!”
“Yes, mother, I'm coming.” Mandrake's thoughts began to race. Were they going to disown him in front of all the leafwings? Tell him that he wasn't practicing his leafspeak enough?
Curious, he hurried out of his sleeping room where his father was waiting.
His father led him to the center, where a crowd was waiting and gathering. Up on the platform… was Sundew? She was standing up on the platform, strong. As always. She caught his eyes and he almost stepped back. Why was she here if this was about him? He started asking more questions in his head. He was about to stop, but Hemlock led them onto the platform.
“What's he doing here?” Sundew whispered. She tried to stay quiet, but being Sundew, that was difficult for her, so Mandrake heard it loud and clear. So she doesn't know what's going on either? Mandrake wondered, squinting at Sundew.
“Hello fellow leaf wings. As you know, mandrake and sundew here are our two most powerful leafspeakers,” Hemlock announced, stepping into the stage and silencing the crowd with his first word. The only mutters were the sounds of the jungle creeping behind everyone's backs. “Sundew especially.”
Of course ‘sundew especially’, Mandrake thought. My leafspeak isn't even half of half of her power.
Sundew tilted her head at Mandrake, and he looked down. She had never acknowledged him before.
“We are here to unite them so that one day there will be someone even more powerful than them who can help us defeat the hive wings!”
Mandrake's snout turned bright red as the crowd roared with cheers, and he almost stepped back. Was he saying that…
“Once they come of age, these two will be married!” Hemlock announced.
Sundew hissed at Belladonna.
“I'm sorry, but it's already been decided,” Belladonna whispered, so quiet Mandrake could barely hear her. Then Sundew turned and flew off.

—

P3

Tropes: high school au, modern au, crossover
Fandoms: kotlc and the entire riordanverse

Sophie Foster took a careful step into the classroom. People were beginning to get situated, and she didn't spot a single one of her friends from middle school. All of her close friends had classrooms on the other side of the school, too.
A boy with handsome dark hair and pale skin spotted her standing near the doorway. He walked up to Sophie.
“Hey, I'm Nico,” he said.
“I'm Sophie,” Sophie replied quickly. “And I already have a boyfriend.”
Nico raised an eyebrow. “So do I.”
Sophie's cheeks flushed, embarrassed.
“Hey, who are you?” A boy with gorgeous blond hair and tan skin asked, walking up beside Nico and throwing his arm around him.
“I'm Sophie.”
“I'm Will. This is my boyfriend Nico,” Will replied.
“We've already met,” Sophie mumbled, ducking past them to find a seat.
A girl with wavy blonde hair was grumbling angrily to herself, staring out the window with her journal open on her desk.
“Hey,” said Sophie, startling the girl. “Can I sit next to you?” It was the only seat left.
“Sorry, I didn't see you there! Uh- sure! Go ahead. I'm Annabeth.”
“I'm Sophie. Nice to meet you- uh, are you alright?”
Annabeth had started balling up the paper in her notebook. “Sorry- I'm fine. It's just, Percy was put on the other side of the school even though we SPECIFICALLY requested to be in the same advisory. Ugh!”
“Your boyfriend?” Sophie asked.
“Yes,” Annabeth mumbled.
Sophie sighed and slid into the seat next to her. “I feel you. All my friends were put on the other side of the school. Even my boyfriend.”
“Aww, that sucks,” Annabeth sympathized. “I’m new to school. I’ve been homeschooled since forever, but this year, since it’s high school, they decided they should send me. Percy’s my neighbor, so I’ve known him forever. I mean, I know some of his friends, like Will, Nico, and Piper over there, but not as well as I know Percy.”
“That must be hard,” Sophie said, turning over to Piper, who she hadn’t talked to yet. Piper was sitting in the corner behind a book, but Sophie could see her long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders. Piper looked up, and immediately some of the guys near the back of the room snapped to attention. Sophie couldn’t blame them.
She waved, and Sophie waved back.
“So, who’s your boyfriend?” Annabeth asked.
“Um, his name is Keefe,” Sophie sighed.
“Interesting name…” Annabeth mumbled.
“And what about Percy?” Sophie replied.
Annabeth laughed. “Fair enough.”
“I used to be dating this guy named Fitz, but he got annoyed when he realized that being with me would ruin his reputation, because I’m adopted and not very rich and he lives with a perfect family in a perfect palace,” Sophie snapped bitterly.
“What a jerk,” Annabeth said. “Guys can be stupid sometimes. Percy can be stupid sometimes, but in a really cute way, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
As soon as the teacher walked in, the class went silent.
“Welcome to L.O. High school.”

–

During lunch, Sophie searched for Keefe, and finally found him, sitting at a table with the rest of her friends.
Keefe had placed his lunch tray on the chair next to him, and when Sophie walked up, he absentmindedly picked the tray up and continued eating.
“Hey, Sophie!” Biana exclaimed.
Sophie set her tray down and sighed. “Hey, guys. I didn’t have any morning classes with any of you!” she protested.
“Don’t sweat,” Keefe said. “We have math together.”
“Math?” Sophie complained. “Boring… Save me another seat.”
Keefe nodded.
“Marella, how come you never blow on your soup?” Linh demanded. “It’s always so hot! How do you deal?”
“Tastes fine to me,” Marella grumbled.
Linh leaned over and spooned some of Marella’s tomato soup.
“OW! This is SO HOT! How could you-?” Linh coughed.
“Okay, Ms. I-never-get-a-brain-freeze,” Marella snapped.
“The gelato wasn’t even that cold!” Linh exclaimed.
“Ah-! Linh, you got tomato soup on my phone!” Dex exclaimed.
“Sorry,” Linh said, clearly not sorry. “But your phone is in my tray space!”
“No, it’s not,” Dex protested.
“Yes, it is!”
“Hey, calm down! You’re giving me a headache,” Stina grumbled from across the table.
“Dex, get your phone out of Linh’s tray space,” Tam mumbled.
“Okay,” Dex said, and moved his phone to the other side of him. “Sorry.”
“So, Sophie, how were your classes besides not having any of us in them?” Biana asked, eating a single piece of lettuce out of her salad.
“Fine,” Sophie mumbled. “I guess English was okay. The teacher seems nice.”
“Ms. Brenson?” Linh asked.
“Yep.”
“Do you want to come over to my house after school?” Biana asked.
Sophie hesitated. Biana and Fitz were siblings, and they lived in the same house. But it was a huge palace with tons of space, so… “Sure. Don’t see why not!”
“Great!” Biana exclaimed. “See you then.”

–

P4

Co-leader’s Log :

The session really begins 2 months before it really begins. With leader applications. The studio is always busy, with people swarming with presentations, skits, artworks, folders, files, and more. One person even had to order a truck to carry everything she had made. She didn’t get in. She was replaced by the girl who burned paper and turned it into her application questions. It’s all about creativity, aesthetics, writing, and personality. In my opinion, anyway. This year, I was bringing my cat with me to do some tricks, and the cat would run through the course I would set up in the studio beforehand, and as the cat did tricks it would unlock new prompt answers. My cat, Floofles, did perfectly and I was very confident. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a leader role, but the non-fiction leader accepted me to be a co-leader, which was almost as amazing. ^.^ A girl named Bianca got accepted as co with me. Her performance was a re-interpretation of giselle in modern dance, and after each mini-dance was a prompt. It was really creative!
The next day, we immediately got to work on planning out our cabin. We met up in a secret cafe buried in London.
“So, I’ve bought a printing press,” I declared.
“Really?” Bianca asked. “Nice.”
“I think that’s a great idea for our cabin, Alyssa. Does it have bunks?” Amy, the leader, asked me.
“Yep! It’s actually the first and second floor of a 3-story apartment. There are about 12 rooms, and each can hold 3 or 4 people.”
“That’s more than enough,” Amy sighed, relieved.
“I agree.”
We met up every day to discuss activities, the newspaper, the show and tell studio, and exciting other things for our cabin.
One day, we met up at the cafe, and Bianca wasn’t there.
“Hm. She’s probably busy,” Amy explained.
But then the next day, she wasn’t there either. Or the next. We went to visit her apartment in New York a few weeks later, but it had been sold to a couple from Boston.
“Was she kicked out? Or did she just… leave?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“I guess we’re short a co,” Amy sighed.
We could do this on our own. And we would.
Then it was time for when the session really started.
I was holding my broom, sweeping the corners, when suddenly the doors burst open. Campers trickled in, taking photographs and knocking over printing presses. I let Amy wrangle them while I went to my typewriter.
Suddenly there was competition everywhere! People from other cabins waltzed in, laughing and talking and mingling with the campers. One camper noticed the empty frame on the wall where Bianca should’ve been. We assured them that everything would be fine. Because it would! What could possibly go wrong?
A day later, we found ink spilled on an unused printing press. We asked everyone in the cabin but nobody had been there. They all had an alibi. I joked that the ghost of Bianca was haunting us, but Amy didn’t like that. It unsettled me as well. What had happened to Bianca? Would she come back?

–528 words


FINISHED HA!