Zai's Writing Post (stolen from Zura with permission)

i write and post things

Dailies

Daily 2:
(576 words)

(Question: Is mother alive? Answer: Very doubtful)



(Question: Is something bad about to happen? Answer: Concentrate and ask again)



(Question: Does somebody suddenly wake up? Answer: Without a doubt)



(Question: Plot twist? Answer: All signs point to yes)



(Wow okay don't know why that led to that ending but I wrote whatever my brain felt was right to write so uh yeah xD)

Daily 3:

(323 words)
A time I helped somebody, well uh… this is going to be awkward to write about– well, I guess I'll ramble about me programming spreadsheets for Non-fi and Mystery cabin this session because that counts as helping somebody! So one fateful day Faer walked up to me and was like “yo I need a spreadsheet man can I reuse the Dystopian spreadsheet from last session” and I was like “gurlll no way you ain't going to ruin my Dystopian spreadsheet like that I'm just going to make you a new spreadsheet!!!” and Faer was like “ok boomer sure do whatever i don't care” so yeah I made Faer her spreadsheet that auto added words, points, and auto sorted into groups, and it also auto ranked the groups so yeah and after I finished that I asked Faer for food and she was like “lol no you can starve” so i kind of cried afterwards so yeah that's my story about me helping Faer on her Mystery spreadsheet; for Non-fi I was collecting spreadsheets for backup sorting and I asked Addie for her spreadsheet and it was quite very sad seeing her spreadsheet so I asked her if she needed any help and she said “yeah man please help we're starving” so I programmed a spreadsheet for her to autoadd words and it worked fine and Addie was like “oh my gosh you don't know how many children this will feed” and I was like “oh my gosh that's great but i don't care you should feed me first” so Addie was like “ok man ill feed you now have some lasagna” and i was like “oh my gosh i love this lasagna thank you so much” and Addie was like “yeah now go away because I have children to feed you're scaring them shaking my head” and i was like “bruh you're the one who's scaring them but whatever” and yeah the end

Daily 4:

https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/612345/?page=16#post-6433826

Daily 5:

(inspiration from the proverb, “all's well that ends well”)

(321 words)


Daily 6:

(500 words)
The school hallways are filled with the usual chatter,
the usual side glances, the usual altercations, the usual matter,
but deep inside I can feel it, I know it, I know
that they're talking about me, they have to be, they're all here to go
drive me deeper into a well of misery, and I can swear
that they're laughing at me, I think they're laughing, I hear
everything,
but I say nothing.
I walk a little faster to the classroom because nobody's going to be here
to walk with me to make sure I get there,
nobody's going to tell me how to get over the noises,
all of the noise, the sounds, the screams, the voices,
I tell myself that it's just my anxiety,
but maybe anxiety's just watching out for me,
so maybe it's the truth,
maybe everyone is in cahoots,
maybe the entire world is actively working to make sure today
is going to be the worst day of my life, and then it'll be tomorrow, and then the next day,
and then I won't be able to handle it anymore,
and I'll be pushed down to the floor
and maybe one day I'll just decide never to get back up again,
because maybe it's better if I stop persisting and call it the end
now, instead of wasting all this time to accomplish nothing,
I haven't made any progress, I haven't done anything,
so it wouldn't have anything to lose.
The gossip around is loud, and I can choose
to rationalize and say that it's not about me, but what of the small chance
that they are talking about me? I understand
the impact of better safe than sorry, and I don't want to feel regret,
I don't want to mess up, I don't want to make mistakes, I can't forget,
sure everyone makes mistakes, but not me, not me, not me,
I'm not allowed to, every time I fall it's an entire catastrophe
in my mind,
even if it's fine
on the outside
it's not alright,
and it's good to think of all the worst-case scenarios constantly
because if you fall then you have an answer in the back of your brain if you need
it, and I need it, because I make mistakes,
but it's not about what mistake I made,
but how quick and clean I cover up the mess,
because if you don't see it, then it's perfect,
right? The lockers lining the hall are a hard place to get thrown to,
The concrete walls are a hard place to get thrown to,
the wooden doors are a hard place to get thrown to,
the floor is a hard place to get thrown to,
thinking is a hard place to get thrown to,
truth is a hard place to get thrown to–
I walk into the classroom and I take a seat,
in my usual spot. I take out my homework sheet,
and I pretend everything is fine.
Everything is fine.

Daily 8:

Translated lyrics:
He barely knew your name
The town was just a dirt road
But they never say anything
I have to get out of running
She was holding a diamond ring

(407 words)
The town isn't like I remember it. It doesn't seem right, but I can't put my finger on it. There are people here that I recognize, but… do they recognize me? I feel like a ghost wandering this town. Walking down the dirt road, I inspect the buildings for answers, but everything seems normal, almost… too normal. Something just isn't right here.

I can hear voices behind me. I look, but there's nobody following me. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm thinking. I keep taking a step forward, only to take another few steps to see if anything is behind me. There's nothing there. I tell myself there's nothing there…

I hear a loud crash. And then I hear a scream. Without thinking, I start running, running down the dirt road of this foreign town, running deeper into this village that doesn't remember me. A village that doesn't remember my name, a village that doesn't remember my face, a village that doesn't remember me at all…

I see familiar faces. I try approaching them, but they won't look at me. It's like I'm a stranger to all of them, an outcast that nobody wants to interact with. Sighing, I clench my hands, ready to give up hope. The diamond ring on my hand doesn't mean anything. He won't remember me either. Nobody will.

But still, I had to try, right? I knew where we lived… or where we used to live. Even if he didn't remember me, would he still love me? Would he still care about me? I could never forgive myself if I didn't even give it a shot.

With a heavy heart, I slowly approach the building that I knew he lived in. I approach the door. I knock.

The door opens. It's him. He looks at me, confused about what I want.

I try explaining who I am, and who I was to him. He doesn't seem to get it. I look past his shoulder, and my heart sinks. I see another woman in this apartment.

It's over. This city is a ghost town. Everywhere I look, it's filled with distant memories that apparently never existed. It's like I never existed in the first place. There's nowhere left for me to go. I'm all alone, and I don't know what to do anymore.

I can't depend on my hometown anymore. Everything stays the same, yet, everything still changed…

Daily 10:

(407 words - words were crane, sober, redub, berry, berth)
I crane my neck to see what is on the news today.
It's the same old reporter on the news, with the same old ways,
And it's just so easy to drink it all away,
I don't want to have to sober up in the world in disarray
So tell me to wake up later when things are better now,
Tell me to wake up later when I can redub the world as revived now,
Tell me when it's finally the time everybody stops caring about
Themselves and starts doing their part to be a better person now.
I like to eat berries while sitting on my bed
doing nothing but trying to live the world out in my head
and I could be outside or doing something productive right now but instead
I'm here trying to drown in my sorrows hoping that I was dead
Isn't it so much easier to be broken instead of alive?
Isn't it so much easier to listen to what others say, be part of a hive
mind instead of having autonomy over ourselves? Life
is hard enough, so why not give the controls over to somebody whose mind
is a bit more sane than mine? Isn't it fun to eat snacks
while pondering over the existence of the world, thinking back
on when life was better, when life wasn't all about the attacks
and defenses, when jokes didn't cause huge cracks
and rifts to form in communities and friendships
You never know how one single word can tip
somebody's ship to leave it's berth in a haste getaway, it's
hard to find meaning when everyone around you forgets
to check in once in a while to say hi or goodbye
or to ask you for what's on your mind
as we go on with our day not thinking about the consequences, the lives
that we are hurting, the hearts that we are breaking, it's time
that we forget about ourselves and look forward to a future that
does not exist yet, but could if we tried, and maybe if we look back
when we finally achieve something into the past
we may see our mistakes and remember that
now is not the past anymore and then maybe things will get better
if everybody works together
but it doesn't work out that way, the world never gets any better
and it'll continue to go down south, even if we work together

Daily 11:

(504 words)
I am walking into the pantry in order to look for food. My stomach rumbles and my eyes dart to see if there is any food left on the shelves.

The shelves are empty. Just like my stomach.

I pull down the shelves of the pantry to see if there's any food that was trapped behind the shelves. There's nothing but dust and dirt. The lights in the pantry flicker. I'm hungry, but this is normal to see.

I walk over to the fridge and see what's inside. There's nothing but sauces and condiments. No fruits, no vegetables… nothing. The fridge hasn't had power in a while. It was turned off when the electricity bill became too high.

I sit on the couch and wait out the hunger pangs. This piercing feeling in my stomach usually goes away if I don't pay any attention to it. I stare at the wall and count the number of stains that made their home on the wallpaper. I counted 17 on my first attempt. 21 on my second attempt. 26 on my third attempt. The number of stains appears to increase every time I count them.

Mommy and Daddy have not come home in two days. Daddy left two days ago. I saw him exiting the front door with a suitcase in hand. Mommy left the day after. She held her purse and two backpacks before exiting through the same door that Daddy left in. I wonder when they will come back for me.

I am thirsty. I go over to the sink and turn it on. None of the water comes out. Mommy must have forgotten to pay for the water bill this month. The water facility probably turned off the water supply coming to our tiny house because we stopped paying for it.

That's alright. I can wait until Mommy and Daddy come back. They'll bring food and water like they always do.

I watch as the lights in the ceiling start flickering again. This time, they do not turn back on. Oh, well. It's still daytime and there are windows. The natural sunlight can light up the rooms. I wonder how long it will take for the electricity to be turned back on again. Last week, it took four days for the electricity to turn back on.

My clothes haven't been washed in a month. I haven't taken a shower in a long time. I asked Mommy why I wasn't allowed to and she told me that we had to conserve water. Apparently, we barely have enough water to drink, so we could not be wasting our water on luxuries such as showering and doing the laundry,

Mommy is always right. She has never been wrong before. At least, that's what she tells me, but I believe her. She would never lie to me. She told me everything was going to be fine. That wasn't a lie, yet.

I feel a little sleepy. Maybe I'll take some time to rest and take a nap.

Daily 14:

(301 words)
So, I'm going to be writing about the characters in the novel I still haven't started yet, so that'll be fun xD Matthew is the type of character who sleeps whenever he has time to; if he's busy and has a lot to do, sure, he's going to miss out on a few hours of sleep until he gets what he needs to get done. Of course, he's also reasonable and knows what to prioritize and what tasks can be completed later, so his sleep habits aren't too bad. Even if he has a rough night, it honestly doesn't affect him that much mentally or emotionally; though, he may be a little drained physically. On the other hand, Zane is the kind of character who will stay up to do the most trivial things. Sure, if there's nothing for him to do he'll get his sleep, but if there's one thing he has to do, even if it's basically meaningless and could wait until the next month, he'll spend all night trying to get that done. While lack of sleep typically drains people, Zane's lack of sleep makes him more alert and hyperactive, and it causes him to overreact to everything to the point he's slightly insane. Fleur is the character who doesn't care about what needs to get done; she's going to get her sleep no matter what. This makes her somewhat undependable because when her friends need her to help, she's off sleeping while everyone else is working. Shayna is that friend who polices people to go to sleep yet doesn't go to sleep herself, typically for the same reason people are staying up for. She's quite a hypocrite, and when she doesn't get enough sleep, she tends to forget things and has poor coordination, making her very liable.

Daily 15:

(501 words)
The party is interesting, to say the least. The masquerade is filled with strangers that I don't know. Strangers I have never talked to. Strangers I will probably never see again after this night. But that's what strangers are, after all, right?

Every step in the ballroom is daunting. I feel like everyone is watching me, even though they're probably too worried about themselves to care about what I'm doing. I fidget with my mask made of black metal, laced with various silver diamonds. It's quite simple, but I hope it's enough to impress somebody in the crowd.

I make my way towards the table filled with food. I'm not sure if I should eat any of it; who knows if somebody walked by and put something into the food? Oh well, I honestly wouldn't really care. There's not much to be living for anyways.

I pick up a random pastry and put it in my mouth. It has a tangy taste. I think it might be passionfruit, but I'm not sure. Oh well, it doesn't matter anyway.

As I turn back to the ballroom, I bump into somebody. I look up at them.

He's wearing a rather bold mask, with various colors of gold, purple, and green. There are feathers around the side of the mask as well. I'm instantly intrigued. His hair is slicked way back.

“Sorry,” I mumble, and attempt to move past him, but he grabs my arm.

“Wait. Have I seen you before?” He asks me, and I can't help but laugh.

“I'm wearing a mask. You wouldn't be able to recognize me at all. Very fun,” I snort. His grip on my arm remains tense. He's not letting go.

“You look quite nice. Where'd you get your mask from? You look quite attractive in it,” he says, and I blush.

“I made it myself. What about your mask? It's quite charming as well,” I respond back. The man was quite stylish, with his multicolored suit and striped tie. I could feel my chest pounding a little harder.

“Well, I made it myself as well, isn't that a coincidence?”

“Will you let go of me now? I think you're cutting off the circulation to my brain. I'm starting to like you, and that's an issue,” I joke. He loosens his grip on my hand, and I can finally break free.

“Sorry, do you still like me now?” He asks. Wow, he's persistent. “Man, I like your suit. It fits you quite nicely.”

“Hmm, let me think about it; you gotta let a man have some time to think first,” I shoot back.

“Fine. But you can think while we dance, can you? I can show you some of my moves.”

“Your moves? Like how you're trying to make a move on me now? Whatever, you don't have any. Let me show you how to properly dance because clearly, you're not it.”

“Oh really, is that how we're playing it?”

“Yes. Now be quiet and let's dance.”

Daily 16:
(311 words)

“So, the other day, I was in the neighborhood, right?” The entire group is around Matt. Zane nods eagerly to hear his reaccount.

“Shayna and I, we approached this one door that seemed awfully suspicious to us— we could just feel something was wrong with it—“

Shayna butts in. “You know, when you have that gut intuition something is wrong? Well, we were feeling it, but with a door.”

“So yeah, anyway, me and Shayna, we didn’t want to get sabotaged at the front door, so we decided to look around the house to see if there was any other way we could break into the house—“

“Couldn’t you have just used your illusion skills to prevent any sabotage from happening when you opened the front door?” Zane questioned.

“Well, you see, that just takes the fun out of this little side adventure, doesn’t it? So yeah, we found a ladder in the garden and climbed up onto the second floor and broke a window. Yes, the alarm went off.”

“But!” Matt continued. “Illusion skills got it to turn off— or at least, the illusion of it being off anyways. So we made our way downstairs, and would you look at that, we found…”

“What did you find?” Fleur asked. Everyone was listening intently now, except Derek, who was shaking his head.

“Oh no, I know how this story ends…” he mumbled.

“So as we’re going downstairs, we smell smoke coming from the kitchen. Something is on fire. So we grabbed the fire extinguisher nearby and got the fire out and turned off the stove.” Matt said.

“Okay, cool, sure, but not very eventful. I was expecting something much bigger,” Amber said.

“But wait! There’s more!” Shayna replied.

“Guess who we found sleeping on the couch of the house the entire time? It was no other than our Derek over here.”

Daily 17:

(708 words)
I don't know.

The world is a gray space between right and wrong.

Wrong is right.

Right is wrong.

The gray space between right and wrong is bigger than I think.

Think bigger.

Bigger thinking.

Wrong is bigger than the small acts of kindness I encounter in the world.

The world is an encounter.

Encountering the world.

The small acts of kindness I encounter in the world bring a splash of color.

Color splashes in the world.

The world splashes color.

Bringing a splash of color is harder than it looks.

Looks are hard.

It's hard to look.

Color is harder than it looks when it's shining too bright in your face.

Your face is shining too bright.

It's too shining too bright on your face.

It's shining too bright in your face if you bring it too close to yourself.

You're bringing it too close to yourself.

It's too close to bring to you.

Bring it to close to yourself, and you risk getting hurt.

Hurt is a risk.

Risk is a hurt.

You risk getting hurt.

It's hard to figure myself out right now. The world keeps on changing, from monochrome to color, and then back to monochrome again. The people around me are faceless, but I feel like I know them. I think I know where I am, but everything is cliche, everything is a replica of some distant memory that I've never encountered before.

The day is gray today. I walk past the remnants of what people used to be. I see their shapes, but not who they are. I see their dull colors, but not what they represent. I can see, but I can't think. I can't draw a conclusion about what this all means to me right now.

There's meaning in the space somewhere, I just can't find it. I can't find the right words to describe it. It's always in the foresight of my thinking, but it's never at the tip of my tongue. I can never get it to form into sentences in my mind. It's a scattered piece of thought that I can't string back together again. It crumbles every time I try to think of it.

It crumbles every time I try to think about it.

Trying to think.

Thinking to try.

Every time I try to think about it, nothing seems to make any sense.

Sense seems to make nothing.

Nothing seems to make sense.

Nothing seems to make sense whenever I attempt to get it to work.

Working to get it.

Getting it to work.

I attempt to get it work, but it always crashes down on me at the last moment.

The last moment crashes.

The crash lasts for a moment.

It always crashes down on me at the last moment no matter what I do.

It doesn't matter what I do.

What I do doesn't matter.

No matter what I do, I end up where I started.

I start where I end up.

I end up where I start.

I end up where I started every time I try to think about it.

I try to think about it

The ideas that could work are endless, but every time I try to catch one, it slips out of my hands. I never have the chance to actually grasp the concept. I don't have the chance to actually understand it. I don't have a chance to get anything. There's never a chance to know what's going on. My arms move through the stream of consciousness in my mind, trying to hold onto anything that it can muster, but I retract empty-handed.

I retract empty-handed from the abyss left in my mind.

My mind leaves an abyss.

The abyss leaves my mind.

The abyss left in my mind devours anything that approaches.

The approach devours.

The devour approaches.

My mind devours anything that approaches, and all that is left behind are the crumbs of its victims.

The victims leave behind crumbs.

The crumbs are all that is left of the victims.

The crumbs of its victims are scattered in the pit of my mind.

My mind is a pit.

The pit is my mind.

Victims are scattered in the pit of my mind…

I don't know.

Daily 18:

(724 words)

“So, let's see what we have here, shall we…” Sini grabs a stack of papers from the writing competition box. There were so many entries Sini had to go through, and that made her really tired. She picks three random papers from the stack and laid them out right in front of her.

“Looks like all three of these are poems, let's read the first one…” Sini begins to read through the first poem, and it was quite… dull. It felt like she was reading some sad attempt at forming words together into multiple lines and then giving it the label of a poem. Sini was not impressed at all; she had written better poetry than this, and this was clearly the work of somebody who had put no thought into their writing whatsoever.

“Um… okay, this one is really underdeveloped. Next?” Sini grabs the next paper, and she does not know what in the world the words on the paper meant. It's in English, sure, but it uses overly complicated and flowery language to the point that the meaning is… very well disguised, to say the least. After attempting to read the first three lines, Sini could not take it anymore. She grabbed the entry, ripped it in half, and looked at the third entry.

“That second entry was too overly complicated. Whoever wrote it was trying too hard to impress us, and I am not going to sit down and read all of that nonsense,” Sini mumbled as she read over the third entry. Ah, this entry was very enthralling. It had the right amount of vocabulary, style, and emotion. This was something Sini could see placing in the top five.

“This poem is just right. Yay.” Sini places the paper in the “discuss later” box behind her. She grabs another three entries, and these are all non-fiction.

Looking at the first entry, Sini could already tell it wasn't good. “There's literally only… four sentences on here. Uh, there's not much I can judge here…' Sini quietly crumples the paper up and places it in the trash. Then, Sini grabs another essay and it appears that the paper… keeps on going.

”Didn't we say there was a 2000-word limit? This is like… a hundred pages filled with texts?“ Sini was not going to deal with this today. She threw the essay across the room. Looking at the third one, Sini could tell this one had followed the directions.

”Hm, that was an interesting essay. I'll discuss it later with the judges,“ she said, placing it in the box behind her.

”I'm going to read three more entries and then take a break,“ Sini declared. She grabbed three more entries, and this time they were all fiction entries.

Looking at the first entry she grabbed, she realized that this person had removed all the spaces in their writing in order to deceive the word count limit. ”I am not reading this,“ Sini said, shaking her head. She folded the paper into a paper airplane and watched as it hit the overhead light. ”Next.“

Taking the second entry, Sini looked over it to realize that while the first few sentences looked alright, they weren't really sentences… this person had just stringed a bunch of words together with no punctuation or anything. It was just a series of random words stuffed together. ”I hate my job,“ Sini quietly mumbled. She placed the paper inside of the shredder and took the last entry.

”Ooo, this story's really interesting. I love the worldbuilding; I'll place it in the ‘discuss later’ box,“ Sini said. As she said this, Robin, Fi, and Starr walked into Sini's room.

”What's up with this mess?“ Starr screamed.

”Oh, just a bunch of bad entries,“ Sini responded back.

'Why is my homework crumpled into the trash? I need to submit it tomorrow–” Robin shouted, trying to salvage the entry in the trashcan. “And my English narrative! Sini, did you turn it into a paper airplane?”

'Why is my schoolwork shredded into pieces– Sini, did you do this?“ Fi was grabbing the shreds of paper that were left of their schoolwork, mourning their loss. ”And my essay! The pages are all scattered across the room!“

”Where's… where's my schoolwork?“ Starr quietly groaned.

Sini winced. ”Uh… I think yours are in the box behind me…“

Daily 19:
(408 words)
I take a step closer to him, and it is like the world around me no longer exists. I hold him tighter than I have ever held anyone before. I keep him closer than I have ever kept anyone before. I squeeze him harder than I have ever squeezed anyone before.

I stare into his eyes. They glisten back at me, and I wonder how many other people have stood here staring intensely at his glory for this long. I would like to think that I am the first, and the only.

I can feel his warmth wrap around me like a cozy blanket. He is all that I need to feel safe and protected. There is nothing I would not do to keep in this moment forever. Just me and him, embracing together. His hands cover my back, gently rubbing up and down to sooth me. It follows the rhythm of a gentle lullaby, and our heartbeats pulse along to this tempo.

The thumps of our hearts join the symphony of indiscernable sounds that surround us. Our quiet, ragged breathing mixes with the slight shuffling of clothes to create a musical masterpiece. If these sounds are a masterpiece, then he is the magnus opus of the world.

There is nothing I would not do to have this moment be frozen in time. He is all that I have ever wanted. He is all that I have wished for. He is perfect the way he is, no matter how many mistakes he continues to make in front of me. He is the most human of all the good things in this world. He is the embodiment of perfection. A picture might freeze the frame, but it will never be the same thing as an experience. I want this experience to last until my final breath.

He whispers sweet words into my ear, and they are the melody that rides along the orchestra of acoustics scattered in the moment. I can feel how close he is. I know that we will have to let go soon, but I do not want to give up on such a blessing he has offered. I will not be the one to let go first.

His skin is smooth, his lips are soft, and I can go on to describe everything, but they will never live up to the true beauty of his characteristics. I will just enjoy the moment while it lasts.

Daily 24 (100 words):

If the city knows how to speak, then the rain must be roaring. My footsteps through the downpour match the thunderclap metronome. Though I am soaked to the bone, I feel lighter as I take my first steps forward. The passersby now accumulating under the store overhangs become the audience whose eyes struggle to keep up with this live race. Who I am trying to outrun, I am not yet sure. The cigarette smoke and the sewage odor lingering in the air have vaporized. All I can focus on now is the submerged view of the world turned upside down.

Daily 25 (105 words):

The haunted house screams when you move. You scream when the haunted house moves.

You are in the attic. With the many levels in this mansion, how are you ever going to find your way out? You will have to find keys, meet the inhabitants of the mansion, discover hidden passageways and rooms, and uncover the lore behind this mysterious house.

With the help of your leaders, will you be able to traverse down all the floors of the Mystery Mansion? Or will you decide to stay trapped here forever… whether that’s by choice or not?

Watch where you step. It may be your last.

Daily 26 with Bakie’s setting (313 words):

Mommy says that the gas masks are my friends. You should never leave your friends behind.

“Mommy, I’m hungry.”

“The ceiling’s gone, sweetie. Everything has collapsed. It’ll be over soon.” Mommy fidgets with the mask on her face.

I see the faces of rocks everywhere I turn. They pile high up like endless skyscrapers. I can make out every single boulder that makes up a tower.

“Mommy, what happened to our tree?” I only see a pile of dust left behind. “And the other trees? Where’s Daddy?”

“Our tree has learned to move on. Soon, you’ll learn the importance of moving on to. Just like what Daddy did.” Mommy lies down on her side. She rests her against the damp grass of the swamp.

“Why did Daddy move on without me, Mommy?” I know Daddy was never the type to leave me behind. “Why didn’t he take us with him?”

“Daddy didn’t have any time to react when everything fell apart. Sweetie, let me check how much oxygen you have left.” I can’t see Mommy’s face, but I know she’s worried about me.

“You don’t have much left; here, switch with mine. It’ll be like trading friends for a day.” We swap our masks. Mommy sinks deeper into the marsh.

“Mommy, when I learn to move on, will we finally be able to plant our own tree? You promised we would in the future.”

“Yes, sweetie, but Mommy’s tired. She’ll… sleep for a… moment.”

“But Mommy, I’m still hungry!” Mommy stops responding to me. The marsh slowly swallows her whole.

“Mommy, please don’t move on without me…” I can feel the gravity of the underground tugging at my feet. I can fight the pressure, or I can give up.

I choose not to give up, but move on. I lay down, and I sleep beside Mommy. This time, we can move on together.

Daily 28 (396 words):

Horror’s cabin is the best, and here’s why. First off, what makes up a cabin is the people in the cabin, and guess who is in Horror? Lavish Lavender Lavatory Luna! Because Lavish Lavender Lavatory Luna is in Horror, that makes Horror the best cabin unless you think Luna is not the best, which in that case, you should reconsider your life choices. Objectively, Luna is the best. She was the first person to let me be an honorary in her cabin this session, therefore, she is the best. Luna also let me be an honorary in her cabin last session as well! As you can tell, Luna is a very nice person. Luna is very nice to the point she allows stupid polar bears to roam around her cabin. Luna is also just a nice person in general. Luna made me my cuddle buddies in Horror, so now I don’t have to sleep alone because I have hot men by my side! Luna is also really fun to talk to. This means that Horror is really nice and fun to talk to, as mentioned before, a cabin is its people, and Horror has Luna in it! Isn’t that amazing? Also Horror is one of the cabins I have previously led, which makes it slightly worse, but since Luna is leading it this session, that makes Horror so much better to the point it is the best cabin! I would not be surprised if Luna was secretly a host because she is that cool and everybody loves her. Luna is also not homophobic or racist as far as I’m aware and I think that’s a good thing! I am typing this while in the sun at the pool right now because that’s how much I think Horror deserves to be labeled the best cabin this session. Am I running out of things to say? Totally not. Luna is the best because I said so, and that makes Horror the best as well. My argument is sound unless you think Luna is not the best, and if so, you are just wrong. It is fact that Luna is the best, so if you don’t think Horror is the best, then you are just lying to yourself because the facts are right there. Please do not lie to yourself and accept the fact that Horror is the best.

Daily 29 (407 words)

i am walking in the streets of New York City to school. These streets are unfamiliar to me, but I hurry along the sidewalk anyway. Today is filled with bustling passengers and passersby and everything that can pass by. Soon enough, I bump into a random friend of mine. His name? I completely forgot. Maybe Jack, or Jake, or Jacob… it started with a J, I think.

”Hello, uh… what's your name again?“ This was embarrassing.

”Paul, you know my name is John, I've told you for the millionth time–“ John says. ”You never listen to whatever I tell you!“

”I just forgot, okay, maybe you should try being a little more memorable, you know that John is such a cliche name–“ I say.

”Oh, so it is my fault now? You are so forgetful, you can not remember anything,“ John says.

”And you are so impatient with me all the time, you are never patient, you always yell at me every time we talk,“ I say, grabbing a hold of a nearby brick.

”Oh, really? I am just sick and tired of you wasting my time every single day,“ John says. John begins to walk towards the street, not paying attention to the passing cars.

”Woah, woah, wait, John, you're running into the cars,“ I shout after him. A car is about to hit him, but I jump in front of the car to save him in time. I am dead now.

Well, I guess I do not have to deal with John anymore. He can be so annoying sometimes, at least I died knowing that I saved somebody, even if John is not a person I really wanted to save.

”Paul, why are you floating in the air,“ John says. John begins to freak out over the fact that I am somehow floating in the air.

”I think… I'm a ghost now. I can haunt you forever John, look what you did to me, this is all your fault, John…“ I scream at him.

”I am sorry, please don't haunt me,“ John says, crying hopelessly on the floor. A bunch of people being passing by us, seemingly unaware of the ghost floating in the middle of the streets.

”Don't worry, I have better people to haunt, such as the random teachers at our school…“ I say. ”But stay out of my way, you never know who is going to be watching you from the corner."

Daily 30:

https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6496725/

Weeklies

Weekly #1:

Part 1: Character Consistency

Character sheet for Gavin Reed (from video game, Detroit: Become Human)
Series continuing or ended?: Ended

Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: unknown
Species: human

Strengths: determined, driven, focused, committed, defensive
Weaknesses: impulsive, pushes people away, aggressive, doubtful

General view of life: neutral, mostly positive but does not like androids at all

Tendencies:
- Tends to be aggressive towards others, especially androids
- Improvement: improves in the fan-film Detroit: Evolution, but not much improvement in-game
- Asks lots of questions, very curious
- Improvement: none
- Instinctively gets physical with other people, starts fights
- Improvement: none

Situations:
Conversation with an android
- tends to be insulting, does not think about their feelings
- shows no sign of respect, the outcome is that he usually walks away from the situation

Communicating with others
- refuses to open up, very cold towards other people
- very mysterious, pushes people away, possibly due to unresolved trauma

During fights
- very sarcastic, annoying, is persistent that he's right even if he's not
- confrontational, not afraid to initiate, is wiling to reasonably back down however

Scenario writing (Gavin Reed running from home) (421 words):

The only sound Gavin can hear during this time of night is the sound of his own footsteps, the quick rhythmic tapping that, if he paid closer attention, would have matched the pulses of his heartbeat. He was getting further away from the apartment complex, yet the stinging pain on his face and the bruises on his body were not disappearing any time soon. There was nowhere for him to go.

Right now, nowhere was better than being back at home with his father.

When his father raised his hand, that was the last straw. Gavin couldn't take it anymore; without any time to retrieve his belongings, he run straight out the door, down the multiple flights of stairs, and away from what used to be his home.

People say that home is where the heart is. Gavin can't find either of them.

It's the dead of winter. The usual bustling of vehicles in Detroit has trickled down to a halt. Gavin shivers, trembling as he tries to remember where the Detroit Police Station is. Every step in front of him is matched with the wispy clouds that linger with every breath. The monochromatic backdrop reminds him of the old noir films his grandparents used to watch.

It also reminds him of prison.

The snow piling on the city's ground should be a safe place to rest. Gavin was tired; he could worry about this in the morning. Right now, all he wanted to do was collapse to the floor, curl up into a ball, and take a nice long nap…

His legs begin to buckle. His hands feel frozen. His toes are unmovable. The bruises tattooed across his chest no longer hurt. The area where his face used to burn with swelling is now smoldering with frostbite. His eyes flutter rapidly. The world's vigorous tango begins to slow into a gentle waltz…

“Sir? Sir– can you hear me?” An unknown voice calls out to him. It doesn't matter who it is though. Not anymore.

“Hank, we need to get him in the police station right now, he's unresponsive. We have a male outside of the police station, unresponsive, over. Appears to be in his twenties, over…” Hands begin to pick up Gavin's body off the frigid ground. The world is unclear through his eyes; the repetitive rocking motion as he is carried into the police station reminds Gavin of a distant memory… perhaps the waves of the ocean.

Or perhaps the swaying of a forgotten lullaby, coaxing him to sleep…

Part 2: Character voice:

(100 words)
Gavin Reed is a very aggressive and upfront detective at the Detroit Police Station. He is known to have a very intense hatred towards androids; this is most likely due to his fear that androids will surpass humanity and control humans. During confrontations, he can be sarcastic at times. He's also very impulsive and doesn't think before saying/doing something, which causes him to be a very regretful person. Even if he's wrong, he won't admit it and will hide his emotions, and it's very hard for him to build relationships with others. He also seems to be a cat person.

(101 words)
RK900 (also known as Nines) is a humanoid android who is known to be the most intelligent prototype created to help in detective investigations and various other missions. He is not confrontational and processes situations before reacting. Nines is obedient to the person he is assigned to work with and has an entire scanning database that can find out information about anyone very easily. Due to his obedience, he is usually very loyal and sticks with his partner no matter the circumstance. He is also stubborn at times and may be too trusting of people he does not know very well.

Scene from Gavin's perspective (389 words):

I was sitting at my desk when that plastic tin can walked into the police station. I didn't know what the heck he was doing here, but I surely did not like him, especially after the “Connor” shenanigans that gave androids their “equal rights.” Robots aren't even human, why do they need rights? Whatever, as long as he doesn't approach my way, he won't be heading back to CyberLife anytime soon.

I watch as the new plastic detective walks toward my desk and greets himself.

“Hello! I'm RK900. I'm the new prototype sent by CyberLife. I will be–” the tin can started, but I already had enough of this.

“Can you shut up? You're not working for me, I'm not going to have some piece of plastic telling me what to do. Go away,” I shouted, furious the higher-ups were making me work with this garbage machine.

“I'm sorry, Gavin, but I have been put under strict instructions to–” RK900 tried to ramble on about his protocols and whatnot, but why was it my responsibility to be caring?

“I told you to get the heck out of here, and that's an order! When a human tells you to do something, you do it, you understand?” This new tin can was getting on my nerves. I didn't want him here. I could take care of myself just fine. I've been fine for the past twenty or so years. Unless…

“Hey tin can, I'm talking to you. What model number did you say you were?” I had to admit, I was somewhat curious about what this robot had in store– no way was I warming up to him, but if I was going to be forced to work with him, I'd at least need to come up with a name for him.

“Hello! I'm RK900. I'm the new–”

“–prototype sent by the garbage facility, blah blah, I know, I heard you the first time. How does… Nines sound?”

“I'm not sure what you mean–”

“Oh, come on, you said you were the new prototype and you can't understand basic English? I'm. Going. To. Call. You. Nines. Okay. Comprehend?” This robot was making me both frustrated yet… excited somehow. Whatever. It wasn't going to turn into anything anytime soon.

“Nines… Nines. Yes. I would like that. It has a ring to it.”

Scene from Nine's perspective (442 words):

Traversing straight out of the fresh facility of CyberLife and into the rustic Detroit Police Station was quite the exhilarating experience, to say the least. The vivid environment, the colorful landscape– just being in the world was so much to handle. I had been given strict orders to enter the police station and to find the detective under the name “Gavin Reed.” He had apparently had trouble maintaining his anger compulsions, which caused the police department's captain to assign me to be his partner in order to aid him in his work.

Scanning the various faces in the police station, I walked by every cubicle until I finally found the Mr. Reed I was looking for.

“Hello! I'm RK900.” All of the RK models introduced themselves with the same two sentences CyberLife programmed us to say. Even though we received full autonomy over ourselves after Markus's revolution, I had no issue continuing with the tradition. “I'm the new prototype sent by CyberLife. I will be–”

“Can you shut up? You're not…” It was to be expected that most humans would not take the new transition of having androids in society lightly. I was well prepared for this response, and I was going to hold my ground until he finished talking.

“I'm sorry, Gavin, but I have been put under strict instruction to–”

“I told you to get the heck out of here, and that's an order! When…” If an android could sigh, it would be now. Well, perhaps I could sigh right now, but I had manners, unlike the individual I was talking to. I had been informed this particular individual would be… hard to handle.

Understanding that it would take time for him to accept this new reality, I turned around and began walking away from his desk. Surprisingly, he started shouting for me to come back.

“What model number did you say you were?”

Back to my traditional introduction. “Hello! I'm RK900. I'm the new–” Back to the traditional interruption, so unpredicted. Sarcasm, if you could not tell. Robots can be sarcastic, too.

“–prototype sent by the garbage facility… How does Nine sound?” Those two sentences did not match. The context was not making clear sense to me.

“I'm not sure what you mean–” Another interruption, surprise!

“Oh come on…” Blocking out all insults from this individual in front of me. Isn't being an android amazing? “I'm going to call you Nines, okay, comprehend?” That was interesting. A name. I wasn't assigned a name yet. The name “Nines” was… fitting. I would be willing to adopt it.

“Nines… Nines. Yes. I would like that. It has a ring to it.”

Part 3: Fan-fiction tropes

(tropes: enemies to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort)

(734 words)

Gavin and Nines are packing up from the police station. It's been a long day at work, and they have not made any progress on their detective case.

“Hey tin can, we're going to be working on the case back at my place,” Gavin announced, hefting a box filled with case files.

“I have never been to your place before. Are you sure you would like me to–” Nines started. but Gavin cut him off.

“Yes, yes, tin can, now get in the stupid car and let's get out of this wreck.” Gavin ushered Nines into the shotgun seat and started the ignition.

“Gavin, have you thought of getting a self-driving vehicle? I'm not sure why you would want to steer anymore.” Almost everyone was using self-driving cars these days; it was more reliable and safe, compared to manually driving.

“There's no control in those self-driving vehicles. I want to be in control.”

“I can tell.”

“Shut up.”

Sliding into the parking lot, Gavin parks the card in a random location and walks toward the apartment complex. As he enters, he takes the stairs, ignoring the convenient elevator.

“Gavin, the elevator is a much more safe–”

“I don't care what's safe right now, plastic detective! I can make my own choices.”

Gavin approaches the door to his apartment. He enters the key and steps into his living space. Nines follows shortly after.

“Your apartment is quite lovely, Gavin. It's spacious; I like the way you've decorated it, and–”

“Tin can, can you quit the nice talk? The apartment isn't that big, and it's because of you androids that nobody lives in houses anymore; jobs getting replaced and everything, we can only afford these dumps because you're taking over everything!” Gavin snapped, before realizing the impact of his statements. “Sorry, it's just… nevermind. Let's get back to working on our case.”

Crashing onto the couch, Gavin pulls out a tablet and begins to scroll through the online evidence files that were cataloged so far. “It's still not making any sense to me, I don't know how else we could make this tied together…”

Nines sits beside Gavin. “Let me take a look.”

“Slide in closer then.”

Nines shimmies closer to Gavin on the couch until their thighs touch. Leaning over his shoulder, Nines takes a glance at Gavin's tablet. “It's already midnight. You should go to sleep. We can pick back on this in the morning.”

“I don't need sleep Nines, what I need is to finish this dumb case so the captain doesn't keep ridiculing me about my poor performance!” Gavin is visibly frustrated and nearly throws the tablet across the room. “It's been rough. It's been very hard.”

“Why don't I look over the case for you and tell you what I find while you go to sleep?” Nines gently grabs the tablet away from Gavin. “Would you like me to get you some water?”

“I can't sleep, I… I get nightmares, I get scared– I swear, if you make fun if me, tin can, I'll melt you down for spare parts, you hear me?” Gavin attempts to push Nines, only for Nines to grab Gavin's hand and squeeze it.

“Let go of me–”

“You need to calm down first.” Gavin turns to look into Nines's eyes. Gavin sees a blank, robotic stare gaze back at him. Nines's sees a hurt, exhausted gaze stare back at him. “If you want, I'll sit by your bed while you sleep.”

“Fine, tin can, I'll go to bed, but I'm warning you, ir's not going to be a pleasant night.” Gavin retreats into his bedroom, puts on his pijamas, and tucks himself into sleep. “You better not stare at me you creep.”

As soon as he finished talking, Gavin was out cold. Soon enough, he began to snore, and Nines left the bedroom, not wanting to distract or accidentally wake Gavin up.

As Nines rummages through the various files in the living room, a sudden scream comes from the bedroom. Nines runs into the bedroom to see what's wrong.

“You're safe Gavin, I'm here, what's wrong?” Nines said, rubbing Gavin's back to comfort him.

“I– I– I was back there– I was–” Gavin was stuttering and had a crazed look in his eyes. “It– It wasn't–”

Nines outsretches his arms, offering Gavin a hug. They embraced, and continued to hold on to each other for comfort.

Part 4: SWC FANFICTION OML IM DONE

SWC fan-fiction:

(1774 words)
This is the story of MBM. MBM is a very nice polar bear who is going to be one of the companions of a certain honorary in Myth.

MBM/s story begins in the Poetry Mountains, in a far distant cave by the Poetry Mountain Lodge. MBM's parents named the polar bear “Bop” because his nose made a “bop” sound whenever they pressed on it. However, this happy family was short-lived due to Poetry Mountain Lodge's desire for expansion– they were going to deforest the remaining trees and kill off all the wildlife in order to build new lodges in the area.

One day, hunters approached the cave Bop's family was living in. They were attacked; Bop's parents distracted the hunters enough for Bop to run away out of the cave. He waited for his parents to come out of the cave, but only the hunters came out. There were no signs of his parents.

Bop ran away as fast as he could into the nearby woods. He had found some sort of trail in the woods, potentially the remnants of one of Fairy Tales's boring pop-up centers. As Bop followed this trail, he was face to face with a pair of werewolves.

Now, these werewolves had actually escaped from the Real-fi restaurant a few hours prior. They had also found themselves following this Fairy Tale trail. The Real-fi restaurant had attempted to use these werewolves as their mascot as they were not doing so well in the main cabin standings. However, the werewolves escaped and attacked the leaders, then ran off. The injuries of the leaders caused business to be on an all-time low, so now real-fi was in dead last.

Bop was very young, and with no other choice, asked these werewolves for help. However, these werewolves were evil werewolves. They decided to take in Bop, but under one condition: he was to be used as bait for them to catch prey. Bop was very scared of this, and did not like the werewolves. However, he was occasionally fed by them, so he depended on these werewolves to stay alive. The werewolves renamed Bop into “Meat.”

Meat was not very happy being with the werewolves. One day, a witch (who happened to be a distant relative of the sorcerers in the Fantasy Coven) approached the wolves and turned them back into humans. Terrified, the humans ran away, leaving Meat behind to fend off the witch himself.

Seeing how sad Meat was, the witch decided to take in the polar bear. After hearing that the polar bear's name was “Meat,” she decided to rename the polar bear “Midas” after her favorite mythological story.

You see, the witch had a sad backstory, which led to “Midas” behind her favorite mythological story. Back in the time when the Fan-fiction Republic was using simulations to battle the Script cabin, the witch's village was stuck in the middle of the chaos. Determined to save her village, the witch began to brew as many potions as she could that would be effective at keeping the attackers away.

However, one day, the Dystopian Sky Castle was floating over her village. Today just so happened to be Dystopian's garbage removal day. How does a sky castle get rid of its garbage, you may ask? It's simple. They throw it off the island.

As the garbage was raining down onto her village, a piece of debris broke one of the witch's bottles. This caused a chain reaction of broken bottles, and before the witch knew it, chaos was forming in her village. Everything was in shambles, her village was ruined, and there was nothing she could do about it but watch as her friends all felt the effects of her potions. She couldn't save any of them, so she grabbed an invincibility potion, used it on herself, and ran away, tears streaming down her face.

This was the only bit of backstory Midas knew about the witch, as she refused to let him know anything else. Her backstory also explained why her witch hut was always so organized and clean; the witch had been traumatized by what had happened in her village.

The witch taught the polar bear how to read labels and instructed that he always read every label before doing anything. The witch had taught Midas many things, from identifying different herbs with his sense of smell to using his hearing to locate people around him.

However, all good things had to end. The Hi-fi Ren Faire had decided to set up right beside the witch's hut. A group of hundreds of tortoises had cosplayed as flamethrowers at this festival. With the flamethrowers attached to their back, these tortoises were able to send out fire projections to people. Upon later interview with the police, these tortoises say they were “pretending to be dragons.”

These tortoises had seen the witch's hut and were curious about what was inside. Sadly, things would not turn out as they planned, as the Sci-fi Hacking Ring had a grudge against Hi-fi and wanted to ruin their Ren Faire. They hacked into the tortoises' flamethrowers and set them off, hoping it would burn down the festival. However, due to bad timing, the tortoises were in the witch's hut instead, causing the hut to catch on fire.

Midas and the witch were also in the hut when this happened. Determined to protect Midas, the witch carefully let him out of the hut through a small window. The witch was not able to access any of her potions or fit through the window, so all Midas could do was look away as the hut burned down.

He knew that the witch was not going to come back from this incident, so with a heavy hurt, he lifted his snout and ran as fast as he could. As he was running, a group of humans picked him off from the ground.

Terrified, the polar bear spat at the humans. Surprisingly, the polar bear not only spat, but he spat fire! The humans were impressed by this, though a little upset as they had been burned by the polar bear's fire spit.

“Hey, I think we could use this bear for our traveling circus!” One of the humans said. The rest of the humans agreed.

Upon asking for the bear's name, the bear still didn't know what his name was; he was so used to adapting to whatever name his new owner would call him. After thinking for a few minutes, he settled on the name “Midas Bop Meat” – or, “MBM” for short.

MBM was placed into a cage and was only let out to set rings on fire for the traveling circus. This traveling circus was originally owned by the Thriller Rift, however, they had gone bankrupt and sold their circus to some sketchy people that weren't very nice. MBM was given daily rations by the sketchy people though, so as long as he was surviving, he would be fine.

However, the sketchy people were really mean and did not treat MBM so well. They would yell at MBM and never let him out of his cage except for the times when he had to light the rings on fire with his spit. One day, while he was eating his daily rations, he found something inside his food. Was it a… box?

Inside the box was a pride flag sequin outfit. The past few days, MBM was trying to grow scales, but to no avail. These sequins would work perfectly as scales! There was a note that came with the sequin outfit. The note said: “Keep away from lost dogs. - Neon Horror Arcade.” Neon Horror Arcade had been one of the locations the traveling circus performed at. They must've noticed MBM's attempts to grow scales and donated him a sequin outfit!

MBM donned the sequin outfit and saw that the words “MBM” were written on the side of it. This made him very happy, even though he was still not very happy about how the circus people were treating him.

One day, the traveling circus was invited to the Adventure Parks. The Adventure Parks had heard of the traveling circus from the Non-fi Press and wanted to bring the circus in to attract visitors to their park. They attracted thousands of visitors, causing the circus people to be too occupied to pay attention to MBM. Since MBM was alone in his cage, he could do nothing but wait…. and wait… and wait…

MBM sneezed, and all of a sudden purple snot came out of his nose. The snot landed on the bars of the cave and melted the metal away. MBM had just sneezed purple acid! MBM was learning so many new things about himself. First, he could fire-spit, and now he could acid-sneeze! Not letting this opportunity slip past him, he ran out of his cage and escaped from the circus people.

As he was running from the cage, he began to poop out multicolored chocolate pellets. One witness saw this happen and also caught a glimpse of the words “MBM” on his sequin outfit. However, this witness misread the words “MBM” as “M&M,” so when the witness took inspiration from these chocolate pellets to create a new type of candy, he named it “M&Ms.”

MBM ran into the Mystery Forest, hoping to find some form of solace in the woods. As he ran further into the woods, he saw a maze. He did not know whether he should enter the maze, but he could sense people chasing him. He looked behind him, and it was the traveling circus people trying to capture him again!

With no other choice, the polar bear ran into the maze. The traveling circus people did not dare follow the polar bear, as they knew nobody exited the maze alive.

The polar bear wandered the maze for a few days, lonely and scared. However, using the skills the witch had taught him, he picked up on the sound of a few voices in the maze. He had nothing else to lose, so he followed these voices and tracked them down.

These voices were no other than the Myth Cabin leaders! They introduced themselves as Moss, Re, and Robyno, and they gladly let MBM into their group. MBM was very scared of all these people in the group, but Moss assured to MBM that he was going to be assigned to a very nice person that finished their weekly.

Trusting what Moss had told him, MBM waited patiently for somebody to finish the weekly so that he could be assigned a new owner.

Weekly 2:

Part 1: Satire (807 words)

My parents always taught me never to accept anything from a stranger. Free candy? Drinks? Food? Always say no because it's laced with some sort of poison, and I'll get kidnapped and never return.
They also encourage me to eat the free samples from the old Korean ladies at the H-Mart, though. We'll be walking down one of the aisles, and while I'm trying to read the tiny English labels underneath the words written in some language I can't understand, we can hear those old ladies screaming from behind in, you guessed it, a language I don't understand.
And of course, when you hear somebody screaming in a language you don't understand, your first instinct is to walk towards them, right? If you hear a lunatic on the streets screaming in some foreign language, make sure to approach and see what types of food they're offering!
My mom will drag me to the counter, and she'll smile and nod along, pretending she understands what the Korean ladies are telling her. And then she stuffs her face with five plastic cups of noodles, places one of the noodle boxes into her cart to be polite, and places it back on a shelf when the workers are out of sight. She didn't even ask if it was laced with poison, she could've just died!
What other things do I not accept from strangers? Don't accept a ride from a stranger unless it's a taxi or some Uber driver or you're riding a bus or whatever. Don't touch any pets, question your authority, don't take money from strangers, blah, blah, blah.
Well, I take the last one back. My parents have also taught me that if an employee offers you a discount, you scream yes. Sure, accepting money from strangers is bad, but a discount… it's a discount! We love our 25% off coupons and buy-1-get-1-free snippets of paper! My mom won't even go shopping if she doesn't have an arsenal of coupons in her purse. Every person has something to protect herself in their purse; some have mace, some have alarms, and my mom? She has her coupons. I'm sure she received those coupons in the mail from, you guessed it, strangers (written in a language that she does understand this time, don't worry).
Whenever I tag along with my mom to go shopping (because I have no other choice), I get bored sometimes. So my mom offers me one of her coupons and tells me to read the fine print of all the items that the coupon will be valid for. I have learned not to tell her that I am bored anymore.
By the time she has her pile of clothes on the register, it'll take her an hour to rummage through her purse for all the coupons she can use. She lays them out on the counter like they're tarot cards or something and the cashier has to pick them up one at a time to read and scan them. You'd think she'd be done once all the coupon shenanigans are over, but she has one last trick in her bag! Some people have stun guns, some people have pocket knives, but my mom? She has her store membership card to get an additional discount on her purchases! And don't forget the awards you receive for purchasing a certain amount of items.
But hey, at least she can go bragging about the “You Saved: insert dollar amount here” section on her receipt to us in the car, and explain to us the importance of giving away your information in order to get memberships, mail-in coupons, and awards to save a couple of dollars.
One last thing: never accept help from a stranger. If you break one of your bones and the emergency people come, tell them to go away because they're strangers, and you can't accept their help. Are you drowning? Well, make sure to wake up before the lifeguard does CPR on you to tell him that you don't accept help from strangers before going back unconscious! Or at least, have multiple conversations with the lifeguard, perhaps go on a date with him (especially if he's hot!) for a few months, and then you go back to being unconscious so he can do his CPR. This applies to all emergency personnel as well!
And yes, let's ignore the fact that people you know can also do harmful things to you, not just strangers. Do you know Aunt Susie? Like, on your dad's side, you know, the side of the family that nobody knew about? Well, you finally met her! Let's get in her car, I'm sure it's completely safe and not a hoax at all! And don't worry, she's totally not a, you guessed it, stranger (who can speak in a language that you understand)!

Part 2: Music review (819 words)

Have you heard of Bastille's new album, “Give Me the Future”? As a die-hard Bastille fan who has listened to everything Bastille, this album was definitely a change in their usual music direction. “Give Me the Future” is a clear sign of Bastille moving closer to more mainstream music. I began listening to Bastille due to their alternative and indie style, and while traces of that genre are still there, “Give Me the Future” is a more mainstream approach to their music. Don't get me wrong, the EDM vibes of the new album are impeccable, but it wasn't the Bastille signature music I was looking for. However, I still drew some parallels between their traditional music and their new album!

First off, the various allusions and references to pop culture and other forms of media are still in their lyrics. That's one of the things about Bastille that I love so much; the imagery that they invoke in their music. I remember one of my favorite songs by them, called “Send Them Off!”, which contained various references to the Shakespearean play, “Othello.” While I have never read that play before, hearing these references gave me a sense of connection to the song, and it gave me something that I could relate to in real life. That's the thing about Bastille– they craft their songs in ways that are relatable, even if you've never experienced anything like the song in real life. Their song, “Back to the Future,” also contains multiple references, such as “we're living in 1984, if doublethink's no longer fiction” which refers to the book by George Orwell, “dream of Huxley's Island shores” refers to the book by Aldous Huxley, and “Can we just Blade Run-Run away?”, a reference to the sci-fi film, “Blade Runner.” These constant references to books and movies you have most likely at least heard about help you build a connection to the song and paint a picture in your head.

One thing I noticed about the “Give Me the Future” album is that its name breaks the trilogy of alliterations Bastille has been using for their previous three albums. Their first album, “Bad Blood,” is an alliteration with the letter “B.” Their second album, and my personal favorite, “Wild World,” is an alliteration with the letter “W.” Finally, their third album, “Doom Days”, is an alliteration with the letter “D.” All of these albums are alliterative, which makes “Give Me the Future” quite the black sheep when it comes to Bastille albums. “GMTF” is not an alliteration at all, and I think this represents an end of a Bastille era; the alliterative album names ended as a trilogy, and now is the beginning of a new era. Every album that Bastille does follows a certain theme; “Doom Days” had more of a dance-pop genre to it, while “Wild World” contains more of their classic indie/alternative genre songs. “Give Me the Future” turns all the rich and flavorful sounds of its predecessors and turns it upside down on its head with its EDM and electropop-styled music. Listening to “Skulls” from Bad Blood, “Two Evils” from Wild World, and “Hangin'” from Dooms Day, followed by one of their electropop songs on “Give Me the Future” demonstrates the sharp contrast in sounds that Bastille uses in their new album. While electropop is not my preferred style of music, I can appreciate the direction that Bastille was trying to take with their album.

Lastly, it would kill me if I didn't mention this one thing about the new album: it's a collaboration with the lead singer of OneRepublic, Ryan Tedder. If you know me, I've listened to OneRepublic way before I became a fan of Bastille, and I can rant to you about how much I love OneRepublic. So when I heard that the lead singer of one of my favorite bands was going to help produce the album of, again, one of my favorite bands, I was stoked! I could definitely hear the merging between Bastille's indie and unconventional style with OneRepublic's more mainstream and structural style, and it was a perfect combination. The lyrics were still the Bastille magic I was looking for, and the music was of course, phenomenal. Even though I didn't like the genre of music, I really enjoyed listening to the entire album, and I especially loved that they included a spoken word poem snippet called “Promises.” As a poet myself, hearing that poem was probably one of the highlights of the album for me because I love it when poetry is showcased in such a beautiful manner. The deluxe edition of “Give Me the Future,” however, was quite the disappointment, with only one “new song,” called “Real Life,” with everything else being songs they've released before. That's probably my biggest disappointment for the album, but other than that, I'd say that it's still decent, just not my favorite.

Part 3: Advice column (501 words)

Q: I am convinced there is a fourth wall but I can't break it. Please send help.
A: Hi Zura! Are you convinced that there's a fourth wall that you can't break? Maybe you're right. That's why I'm going to direct you to the Super Mega Round Soaker Determined To Break Through Fourth Walls And Other Obstacles! SMRSDTBTFWAOO is a state-of-the-art water soaker that will help you blast your way through any fourth walls that block your path. Make sure to order your own copy today! I have your copy of the Super Mega Round Soaker Determined To Break Through Fourth Walls And Other Obstacles will help solve your problem.

Q: I think my cat is plotting to kill me. What do I do?
A: Thank you Ava for sending in your concern. If your cat is plotting to kill you, it's about time you arm yourself with some of the knives in your kitchen. Remember, you should NOT go to sleep without a knife under your pillow; you never know what your cat will decide to attack you. If you're not too keen on stabbing your feline friend, you can also just return them to the store. Make sure that you drive to the opposite of the world and return it to a pet store called “slaughterhouse.” This way, you can guarantee to yourself that the cat won't come back to kill you once it escapes from the slaughter– I mean, pet store. I hope this helps!

Q: I accidentally robbed the supermarket of its entire supply of mangos. How can I frame it on my brother?
A: I'm glad I can try to be of assistance to you, Starry. First things first, if you have already eaten some of the mangoes and have mango peels lying around, make sure to put them in your brother's clothes. This way, all his clothes will smell like mangoes, and when the cops come, they'll find the peels in his room. If you have any leftover mangoes that have not been eaten yet, either eat them now and place the peels in your brother's room, or place them in a blender and pour mango juice all over your brother's room. Yes, it might be a waste of mangoes, but if you're caught, you won't be able to steal mangoes ever again! I hope this helps you in your framing journey, I hope your brother gets arrested and sent to jail.

Q: My drawing came to life what do i do about it?
A: Hi Val! First off, I don't see this as much of a concern. I only draw hot men, so if my drawings came to life, I'd be quite ecstatic, to say the least. I could be their friend, or maybe… well, never mind. Maybe you don't draw hot men (but if you do, let me know, I'll gladly solve this issue for you if that's the case). If that's the case, you can always drive to the nearest bridge and throw your drawings that have come to life into the waters below. Maybe they'll melt back to art supplies. Or you can also try to drop them off on the side of a road and immediately drive off. The possibilities are endless. There's also murder, I forgot to mention that as well. But yeah, I wouldn't have any advice on murder, why would I? I would never…

Part 4: Advertisement (319 words)

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Weekly 3
Part 1:
Brainstorm:
- All people must stay indoors*
- Poisonous gas outside*
- Food is delivered with drones
- Your status determines your priority*
- Limited supplies*
- Status can be traded for other commodities
- One building, multiple floors
- The outside makes you hallucinate
- Status is determined by your importance*
- wasteland/landfill*
- hazmat suits
- society trying to find cure
- some people have magical powers*
- windy
- black and white aesthetic*
- poisonous fog*
- mutated animals
- poison makes people lose all of their senses*
- outside preserves dead bodies
- trash continues to be dumped outside

Connections (215 words):
After a nuclear disaster, all people have been forced into shelters in secured buildings. While this sounds like a Dystopian story, this nuclear disaster was actually caused by the influx of magical powers used to make society more convenient, which in turn caused the world to be filled with trash and pollution. Everyone has a magical power, but some are more useful than others. Because of this, status is used to determine where rations go and how likely you are to continue to survive. Those who are not helpful are the first people to get thrown out of the building. These magical powers aren't the typical powers you'd expect; they're really trivial, such as bending metal with your mind, forming water drops at your fingertips, etc. The people with better magical powers typically have better statuses and are more likely to survive in the building. Their worth is determined by how much their magical power can be used to help the people in the building. Outside, there's a poisonous fog that makes people slowly lose all their senses. Because of this, they'll end up wandering aimlessly without their senses until they die from starvation or other natural causes. The building has a black and white aesthetic, and any bright colors are banned from the facility.

Narrative (418 words):
Today is day 674 on the fifth floor of the tower. I am not sure how many floors are in this building, as I am not important enough to traverse it. However, from the gossip that makes its way down to this floor, I believe there are at most ten floors on here. Seeing as there are multiple basement floors, I feel I am in a safe spot.

People on the higher floors can traverse to the lower floors if they want to, but I'm not sure why they would want to do that. After all, the lower floors get increasingly less lavish, so it's better that I stay up here.

You may be wondering, what power do I have? Everyone has a different power, and though they're typically not the most shocking power, if we all worked together, we can survive in this tower. My power is that I can transmit electricity with my mind. Shocking, I know. Though it only works once a day, I have to be holding on to the object for around an hour. It's a decent jolt of power to the building, but we depend on others with electricity powers to help keep the entire building running.

Tomorrow is closing day. It doesn't sound that bad, but they purposefully named it to sound less bad when in reality, it's the most feared day. Closing day is when we find the most useless people and kick them out into the poisonous fog outside. It sounds cruel, but it's the only way we can survive. People's powers get increasingly less potent the more we use them, so we have to get rid of the people who are less helpful. That typically starts with clearing one of the basement floors first.

I have a friend. Her name is Robin. Her power is that she can levitate if she stands up straight. She lives on the third floor, and sometimes I talk to her. Her mother, Luna, had a power too. She could telepathically communicate to those who were closely related to her.

As expected, Luna was one of the first to go during the first closing days a few years ago. That's how Robin knows the effects of the outside; it slowly takes away all of your senses, until you are a shell of a person. First, your eyesight goes, then your hearing, then your sense of smell, then your taste, and finally, your ability to touch.

I hope they don't take me away tomorrow.

Part 2:
What kind of magic is used in your world? (102 words)
The magic used in this world are superpowers, so they don't need any incantations or potions or anything. They're able to use their superpowers any time they want, however, there are some limitations of what their superpowers can do. There are multiple different kinds of superpowers, but they're all related in one way: they're super trivial, and there's not really anything practical you could do with your superpower just by yourself. However, if you combine your superpowers with others, your synergy can greatly increase the effectiveness of your superpower. It's important that you have a good superpower, or else nobody wants you.
How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities? (84 words)
Magic is used in the character's everyday life in order for them to survive. The world is falling apart, and they need their powers in order to keep on maintaining the location they are living in. There are many different abilities, mostly things related to electricity, materials, water, and food, but there are less common ones such as psychic powers, levitation, and strength. The most trivial of powers typically do not exist because they are disbanded from society, so they are not found anymore.
What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? (87 words)
The laws of the world aren't very set in stone, but mostly just unspoken rules. You need to be helpful in order to earn your place in society, and if you're not helping, then there's no point in keeping you alive. Those who do not follow the rules or are unhelpful will be exiled from the group and into the poisonous fog, where they will die a slow and painful death. Other than that, there are not any explicit rules in this world due to its setting.
What is the origin of your magic? (88 words)
The origin of the magic in this world is from the nuclear disaster that wreaked havoc to the entire planet. The people who did not die instantly from this nuclear fallout experienced many weird symptoms and that is how they received their powers. However, soon the poisonous gas started spreading everywhere and people began to die because of it, so societies were formed in various buildings that kept the gas out. While their powers came from the nuclear disaster, the world is unsafe for them to live in.
How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? (85 words)
Everyone single person in the plot has a magical power. There isn't any people who don't have a power, and while their powers might be super trivial, it's still considered a power so everyone has one. All characters are aware they possess some kind of power, however, not all of them know what exactly their powers are. There are also characters who think they know what powers they have, but will find out later that they have more powers than they thought they initially had.
What are the limitations of your world’s magic? (90 words)
There's always some sort of thing that holds back the powers of everyone in the plot. For example, their powers may have a time limit and they are unable to use their powers until the time limit is over. They may have to be in a certain position to use their powers, and they mave have to wait a certain period of time for their powers to actually function. They may also have to sacrifice something in order to use their powers, such as mental clarity or days left alive.
How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)? (84 words)
Magic is a regular part of society. Even though it's a regular part of society, it's still a fascination to many people due to the multiple varieties in what powers everybody can have. There is still a lot to discover about the magic in the society because it's still relatively new, they haven't had the magic in quite a while. However, the magic is slowly fading from people the more they use it, which is a major concern with the people in this world.
Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated? (86 words)
Well, the characters use their powers in order to survive and keep living. In our modern society, we don't really have to worry about, so that's the major concern. However, there's not much able to be compared here because the modern society we live in is much different from the society that the characters live in. While it is the same society, the magic came from an event that changed much of the world, which affects how the magic affects behavior in the magic incorporated world.
What happens when magic gets out of control in your world? (84 words)
When magic gets out of control in the world, it will have very bad consequences. Everyone depends on each other's magic to survive, so without that magic it will be very hard for the society to continue functioning properly. Since people will literally die out with the magic, if the magic gets out of control, it will be very bad. If the magic gets out of control, people are likely going to die and get hurt because of the lack of structure in society.
What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic? (80 words)
Well the obvious example is how the people managed to survive in the nuclear wasteland. Because of their magic, they were able to rebuild isolated societies in order to survive for a while. This is the main problem that the characters can solve with magic, such as getting a water source and receiving food and having electricity to survive. There are other examples that can be solved using magic, but it's mainly shortages in resources that these powers can solve.

Part 3:
Steampunk (412 words):

“Who in the world is that?” Jarvis questions.
“It’s Grimsby. He’s to co-pilot of the ship. Where’s the captain?” Axel says, taking out the retractable cane in his pocket.
“What are you going to do with that?” Jarvis points to the energy cannon is his hand. “This is long-ranged. Let me handle it.”
“Shut up. I’m good with a sword fight.” Axel pushes a button, and a blade extends from the tip of the cane.
Gunshots continue to ring out. The ballroom is in chaos.
“Somebody needs to fix the gears somehow,” Jarvis points out. “So, Mister Mechanic, is there a way you can make sure we can see each other another night?”
“Of course— there are backup paths the gears can take. I just need to open them,” Axel responds back. “I’ll go on my own.”
A bullet whizzes past. “I’m not leaving you alone. Let me come with you.” Jarvis points his energy cannon in the direction of the attacker and fires. “And it looks like Grimsby isn’t the only betrayer here.”
“Look— I will be fine. Now let me go so I can get this airship back work again.”
—
Axel uses a spare ladder of reach the compartments in the ceiling. Looking through a series of levers and pistons, he concentrates in remembering which lever opens which path. One wrong pull, and he could blow the entire ship up.
Finally finding the right lever, Axel is about to grab it when a voice comes from behind.
“Stop right there. Move, and I’ll shoot,” Grimsby booms. His pistol is aimed straight at Axel’s forehead.
“I’m not moving. Just thought I would look at the mechanics before we all died,” Axel says. He slowly backs closer to the lever. Grimsby let’s out a warning shot.
“I said—“ Grimsby is suddenly propelled backwards from a instant burst of light. Jarvis is seen behind him.
“Did somebody say they didn’t need me? Nobody messes with what’s mine,” Jarvis smirks.
“What are you looking at? Pull the lever already.”
“Right.” Axel pulls down on the lever, and the airship suddenly jerks back up. The sudden movement causes Axel to fall on top of Jarvis.
“You know, I’m not yours. You don’t own me,” Axel points out.
“We could own each other,” Jarvis responds, grinning. “And not in the way you’re thinking of.”
“Whatever. Doesn’t a dance end with a kiss?”
“No? That’s a date—“
“Then let’s call it a dance date, shall we?”

Urban Fantasy (356 words):

I wander into the nearest bar. With my posture slouching and my breathing shallow, I haul myself on the barstool, tapping the counter multiple times until a bartender approaches.
“Man, you look upset. What happened?” The bartender asks inquisitively.
“Boyfriend drama. Doesn’t listen to what I want, and I’m tired of it,” I fire back. “A shot of Shirley Temple, please.”
“Ah, that sucks.” The bartender pulls out a bunch of bottles and begins mixing. “You know, a Shirley Temple isn’t alcoholic. It doesn’t really come in shots either.”
“I don’t drink alcohol,” I respond. “I pretend I do by ordering them in shot glasses.”
As the bartender serves the glasses, I take a glance at the TV. It’s the same news of the Supernos decimating another city, or the breakthrough gossip posts on potential weaknesses the Supernos have.
“These aren’t expensive,” the bartender says, “so it’s on the house. Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” I say, instantly downing all the shots in a matter of seconds.
I feel tired. I don’t know why, but I’m tired of having to deal with all these problems that I shouldn’t even care about. People want me dead— I’m a Superno after all. No matter how much good I try to do, somebody’s bound to want to get rid of every single one of us.
“Matt? Matt, there you are, I checked every single store—“ Zane started, but I cut him off.
“Way to be a drama queen. I don’t even have to inspect your thoughts to know that you used my location tracker. Gosh, I hate that I installed that for all of us,” I mumbled.
“So you’re the boyfriend who doesn’t listen, I’m assuming?” The bartender says nonchalantly.
“You told him?” Zane groans.
“Why not? You still in the closet?” I groan.
“Well, no, but I’m just trying to talk some sense into you—“
“Zane, let’s not talk about this here. There’s people here. Like, actual people.” I close my eyes and plant a message into his thoughts.
If they knew we were Supernos, they’d capture and kill us in a heartbeat. So let’s deal with this back at base.

Dystopian Fantasy (388 words):

Today is Closing Day. I know there’s no chance for me to get exiled from the Society Building today, but I always worry during this time of year. Sooner or later, they’ll reach my floor and it’ll be my time to go. But I have plenty of years left right now, so it’s not a probably I have to deal with for now. That’s a future me issue.
Talking to Robin and learning about Luna’s fate really helps to calm me down. While that sounds weird, knowing exactly what’s going to occur helps me not fear what I’m scared of as much. After all, it’s the unknown that scares me more.
Robin worries that she might go soon. Her levitation powers are only used for changing broken lights and fixing things on the ceilings. I tell her there’s nothing to worry about, and as the Society Building evolves, the floors people live on change.
Today, me and Robin stay in her room. Robin can’t come to my room because she’s on a lower level than me, so I take all my favorite items and bring it down to her small living space. It’s not the worse, but mine is definitely better. Robin reminds me of how terrible Luna’s living space in the basement was, and that keeps me in my place and I don’t say anything about the things I don’t like about her room.
“So, do you ever feel bad about the people who are in the basement? They’re living in constant worry,” I say. Robin shrugs.
“You know, it’s been a few years of living like this, and I’ve grown numb to the feeling of death. I try my best not to make friends with people who are way below me. That way, it hurts less to see a stranger go,” Robin responds.
Suddenly, an intercom begins sounding. It tells us to check our room panels to find our new locations. After Closing Day, we shift rooms based on a discussion from The Council, since our Status rankings change yearly based on the needs of the Society.
“I have to go. We get less than a quarter hour to move everything,” I tell Robin. Robin stands in front of her panel, frozen in shock.
“What happened?” I ask her.
“I— they’re putting me in the basement.”

Weekly 4:



PATHS TAKEN: 3-3, 4-3, 2-3, 101-4, 6-3, 5-4, 81-3, 7-4, 9-3, 1-3 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 4- S;2- S;6- S;1- S;9- S;7- S;8- S;5- S;3- S | ENDING: best

Intro (103 words)

The room is dark. I'm shivering, and I'm scared. Everyone is huddled in the backrooms. It's only been a few minutes, but I can tell that something has gone terribly wrong. I don't know much, but I know that the plan out in space has failed horribly. Now, all the people on Earth have to pay for the consequences.

I've only heard snippets, but I know that there was some sort of plan to harness the energy from the sun. Now, everything is falling apart. Fast.

There's a loud bang heard from outside, and then… silence. We are all too stunned to speak.

Bulletin Board: 9 random words from Kenna, Robyno, and Moss (Submission Boxes) (mortuusequusphobia, encounter, fractional, remember, ex, butterfly, rainbow, death, cactus) (366 words)

We expected something to happen, but there was nothing. I thought something would be different, that we would ENCOUNTER something that would change our lives. I guess I was wrong.

“Well, I was just about to reveal to you guys about my MORTUUSEQUUSPHOBIA, the fear of ketchup, but looks like we're not dying,” Shayna tells me. We get up and walk out of the bar.

As soon as we're outside, all my relief becomes FRACTIONAL. The world as I REMEMBERED it is completely gone. The first thing I notice, and the only thing I notice, is the intense brightness.

“Is that… multiple suns? What happened–” Derek points out. The air is chilly, despite the fact there are so many suns in the sky right now. A queasy feeling forms in my stomach like BUTTERFLIES.

“Guess we can call our original sun an EX-sun now. It's gone. Or maybe it fractured into multiple pieces, and that's why we're not burning alive right now,” Shayna says. “Whatever. We can't expect the world to always be happy with RAINBOWS and sunshine all the time. CACTI and darkness exist too.”

“You say the weirdest things sometimes,” I mentioned. “It'd be funny if you didn't overuse it to DEATH.”

“I wonder if there's anything else wrong with the world right now. A bunch of extra suns doesn't seem so bad. I thought we were going to die, so I guess we couldn't expect much,” Derek told me. “So, Matt, do you feel any different? Do you feel extra gay today, maybe?”

“Derek, you're hot and all, but straight guys aren't my type,” I respond back. “Though, if you keep the tempting, I might call you up on your offer.”

“Quit the bromance. Let's look at the news,” Shayna mentions. “Or… not. Our phones don't have reception anymore. I hope they fix that soon. Or maybe this is the apocalypse– a world without phones! Oh no, the tragedy.”

“I'm sure it'll be fine. Do you think we can get somebody to drive us back to our place?” I ask. “Maybe we should crash at your house, Shayna. I don't have a good feeling about this situation. There might be more that unfolds.”

Boring Rooms: Rec Room, transport to another world (234 words)

“I don't recognize… this.” Derek points at nowhere in particular. “We did not come from here. I would know. There were many buildings when the Uber took us here. Now, we're surrounded in… desert?”

“Are we even on Earth anymore, at this point?” Shayna asks. “From all the weird stuff I've been seeing, I wouldn't be surprised that those backrooms we were stuck in transported us into an alternate dimension.”

“Seems like it still resembles Earth in some way, though…” I point out. “Maybe Shayna's house is still here. Shayna, do you think we could hijack one of the cars in the parking lot? Somebody's bound to have left their car behind.”

“No, Matt, I am not stealing if that's what you're asking me to do. I will ask politely instead, like the true lady I am.”

Shayna approaches a nearby gentleman. “Hi! My name is Shayna; I'm as surprised with everything as you are. What shoes are you wearing? They're quite nice.”

The man is taken aback. “Well, that's nice of you–”

“My friends and I, we took a Uber here, and our phones aren't working anymore. Could you drive us back to your place?”

“Sorry, I can't I have–”

“Please? I could pay you for your time–”

“I'm sorry. I have a family to go back home to.”

Shayna shoots us a death glare. “Give us your car right now.”

“Err– pardon?”

Throne room - Chekhov's Gun principle (honorary shrine) (305 words)

“I said, you are going to give us your stupid car or else I will rip it from you, and I will rip everything from you, and–”

The man appears to fall into some sort of trance. His eyes are glazed over, and he hands Shayna the car keys. “Yes. Yes. Yes. It's all yours. Yes.”

“What in the world did you do, Shayna–” I start, but Shayna hisses at me.

“You, stop always complaining and shut the–” she starts, but Derek steps in between us.

“Woah, woah, Shayna, watch it there, you're not normally like this. Are you okay?” Derek fetches into his backpack for a water bottle. “Here, drink this. You're probably still in shock.”

“What… happened?” Shayna clutches the water bottle. “I don't remember anything. Whose car keys are these?”

“They're from the man you just stole from. Well, stole might not be the best word. I guess you… charmed him?” I glance over at the man. His mouth is frothing, and he's laying on the floor, unconscious. “Shayna, what did you just do.”

“I… don't know.”

“Hey, we have our car keys,” Derek says, snatching the keys from Shayna. “This is our ticket out of here. I'll drive.”

“I'm the only one with a license here,” I point out. “Give me the keys. I'll drive, you can shoot directions.”

Derek jumps into the shotgun chair while Shayna sits in the back. Shayna finishes the entire bottle of water.

“Okay, I feel better now…” Shayna says. “I honestly don't remember what happened back there. Can somebody debrief me on what happened?”

“You kind of… intimidated the guy back there into giving you his keys. And he kind of looked like he was… hypnotized? I'm not sure. Maybe it's just some random thing in this strange world we're in right now,” I respond.

Basement, postscript- themes (writing room) (269 words)

“Do you need help getting to Shayna's house?” Derek asks me. “I could give you a hand.”

“I know my directions, thank you very much. I don't need any help.” I say.

“Are you sure? Because I think we're going the wrong way. We've been going the wrong way for quite a long time because this is definitely not the path to–” Derek starts, but I cut him off.

“Nothing around here looks familiar, okay? So let me drive, and keep your whining to yourself.”

“I'm just trying to make sure we make it to Shayna's on time! I don't want to stay out here any longer than we have to,” Derek says.

“Can you guys just quit your married couple whining and just pay attention to the task ahead of us? There's no use complaining all the time, it's going to get us nowhere, literally,” Shayna screams from the back of the car.

“Shayna, stop shipping me with the straight best friend, you've been reading too many fan-fiction tropes,” I tell her. “Derek here has a lot of issues to fix before he's husband material, and one of those issues is that he's straight.”

“Har, har, very funny. Now let's get back to my place before you waste gas on trying to get to some destination you don't know the location of.”

As soon as Shayna says this, the gas to the car cuts out. The car grinds to a halt in the middle of nowhere.

“Looks like we got nowhere! Isn't that great, you two spent all day long complaining and now we have nothing,” Shayna says.

Host room - five minutes of writing in dirty setting, broom closet (173 words)

I step out of the car, and all I see is disaster. Everything is messed up, and I don't know what to do.

“Derek, uh… you know the directions out of here, right?” I wince.

“No, sherlock, I don't. We're stuck and going to die a painful death now,” Derek mumbled, rolling his eyes.

I look around. This entire place is a wasteland. Trash is littered everywhere. I can't see anything. I could've sworn that more trash was piling up everywhere I look.

“Shayna, was that… there before? Those trash piles, they keep getting bigger and bigger,” I say. Soon, the trash piles have grown so large that they've almost engulfed the car.

“Do you like this, Matt? Are you enjoying the suffocation?” Derek says, staring straight into me.

“We're going to die, Matt. We're going to die, aren't you happy?” Shayna says in unison with Derek, who are both staring straight at me.

“This was your mistake. You're going to struggle a whole lot before we let you die,” they both say.

Other SWC Rooms - sense of belonging, sorting room (254 words)

I struggle to comprehend the scenario unfolding. Things were getting weird, fast.

“What's… happening? Why are you acting like this?” I begin to worry about my friends.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Shayna screeches. “We're all here with you to watch you die.”

“You're going to have a painful death,” Derek chimes in.

“Stop it! Stop, I don't want to deal with this, I just wanted to have a fun night out, I just wanted to… I just wanted to feel like I belonged for once! I just wanted to hang out with my friends properly, and…” I can't hold back my tears.

“We're not real,” Shayna says.

“Wake up,” Derek says.

“You are real, everything is real, I am not making anything up in my head, you guys are all here, I–” I can feel the wind around me picking up pace. Whatever is happening, it is unsettling.

“I want it to stop, make it stop,” I scream into the wind, and I close my eyes. I put my hands around my head and brace for whatever impact was approaching.

“Matt? Matt, come on, we're here, what's the matter–” Derek says, pulling on my hand.

“Wait– what? What just happened, please don't hurt me, Derek, I'll do anything–”

“What in the world? Derek is like our bodyguard of the group, he's not going to lay a finger on you,” Shayna says, confused. “Well, actually, maybe he'll lay some fingers on you, but in a… friendlier sense, if you get what I mean.”

Workshops - fanfic tropes, incorporate song lyrics, I did lyrics from Curse - Imagine Dragons (313 words)

“Oh, shut up, Shayna, didn't I tell you straight dudes aren't my type?” I look around to get my positioning right. “Where are we?”

“We're at Shayna's house. You kind of just ran out of the car and started panicking; we thought you were having some sort of emergency, you were really out of it,” Derek says. “You couldn't sit, you couldn't talk–”

“Well, I gotta leave this town behind,” I respond back. “But actually, what happened? I thought I was driving and we were in a desert, and before we were at the bar, and there were multiple suns and Shayna stole a car–”

“I did steal a car. And the suns are still up there. But there wasn't any desert, and you definitely weren't driving, no sir,” Shayna says. “You were running to us, screaming your head off. You dehydrated, or something?”

“Uh… maybe. I was probably just seeing things.” I accept a bottle of water from Derek, and take large gulps. “Probably just dehydration, yeah.”

“Water breaks the curse, you're finally free!” Shayna says sarcastically. “Pay attention to how much water you drink next time.”

“I… will,” I respond. “Now, let's go into Shayna's house before I get a heat stroke out here.”

“It's literally evening. You can't possibly get a heat stroke if the sun isn't even out anymore,” Derek points up.

“Shut up and walk.”

We enter Shayna's house, and I immediately notice the rings lying around everywhere. “What are those rings for?” I notice Shayna holding a diamond ring in her hand. She places it back on a shelf.

“I collect rings. It's a hobby of mine.” Shayna says. “They're all fake, don't worry. I'm as broke as all of you.”

“Wow, that's interesting,” Derek says. “I collect nothing because it's a waste of time.”

“You can collect all the rejections Matt hands to you,” Shayna says.

Daily team - Zai, 15 minutes of new lining (281 words)

“They're not rejections if I was never
interested in him in the first place,' Derek says.
”Oh, really? I thought we were getting close,
not going to lie,“ I say.
”Really? I have a chance?“ Derek says.
:”No, I told you. Straight guys
aren't my type.“
”How do you know I'm still straight?“ Derek say.s.
”Because you use three-in-one body
wash, shampoo, and conditioner,“ I respond.
”Quit it. Let's crash here for the night.“ Shayna says.
”And no, none of you are getting my bedroom.
I'm nice, but not that nice.“
”I'll sleep on the couch, Derek
you can take the guest bedroom,“
I say, flopping onto the couch.
”Nah, you can take the guest bedroom,
I will sleep on the couch,“ I say.
”Oh my gosh, can you stop your
gentlemanliness and just decide on something?
Might as well share a bed at this point.“
Shayna rolls her eyes.
”Okay, fine, I will take the guest bedroom then,“
Derek says. ”But Matt better get the bedroom
tomorrow night or I will feel bad.“
As I crawl onto the couch, I grab a few
blankets from the nearby closet and rest my
head against the couch pillow. It is
somewhat uncomfortable, but it will have to do.
Based on what is happening outside, it is
too dangerous to be home alone. It is better to be
in numbers. I feel comfortable knowing that my
friends are with me. I slowly doze off, wondering if
anybody will care about how loud I snore, or if
anybody is even paying attention to me right now,
or if I can slowly daze off into a quiet, slow, nap
and forget about the outside world…

Rooftop - Candyland, amnesia

I wake up, and I can't remember anything. Where in the world am I?

”Where am I?“ I shout. ”I don't recognize this place.“

On further thought, I can't remember anything recent.

A man walks into the room. ”Woah, woah, Matt, is everything okay?“

”Who are you?“ I say, frantic. ”Why are you here? Where am I?“

”It's me, Derek– do you not recognize me?“ Derek waves his hand in front of my face. ”Matt, you got to be kidding me.“

”Is Matt my name? Who's Matt?“ I am genuinely confused and concerned. ”Where in the world am I?“ I say again.

”What's going on, Derek? Did you drug Matt in order to get with him or something?“ A girl walks into the room.

”No, Shayna, I think Matt doesn't remember anything for some reason, I don't know what happened,“ Derek responds.

I stand up and make my way into the door. ”If you don't explain everything to me right now, this very moment, I am going to walk out this door and never come back,“ I say. I don't know if I brought my things into this house, but I don't care anymore. This place was giving me the creeps.

”We're your friends, Derek and Shayna,“ Shayna says slowly. ”And you're at my house right now because earlier there was this disaster somewhere in space and now there are multiple suns in the sky and we were worried something was going to happen so that's why we all decided to come to my place for the night.“

”Now that I think about it, you were freaking out when we arrived at Shayna's house. You mentioned there was some sort of desert, and you thought you were driving…“ Derek starts. ”Did the nuclear disaster mess something up with your head? You've been hallucinating and now you lost your memory.“

”I don't know if you think this is funny, but you have to tell me the truth, right now,“ I say, taking a step out the door.

”It's unbelievable, I know, but we're telling the truth, Matt!“ Derek says. ”Please don't leave us.“

I look outside, and sure enough, there's a bunch of suns in the sky, and I feel my memories coming back to me. Soon, I've regained all my senses.

”That was… what in the world?“ I am so confused.

Dining Room - sci-fi element (215 words)

”You might want to see this,“ Shayna says, staring at the TV that she turned on some time ago. We all crowd around the television set to see what's going on.

”Instances of people known as ‘Supernos’ have been seen throughout the world ever since the nuclear disaster; these people have dangerous superpowers that are decimating entire cities and killing people,“ the TV broadcast says. ”We recommend everyone stay indoors as much as possible, stay away from crowded areas where a Superno attack is likely to occur, and find ways to protect yourselves.“

”What in the heck of the world of the stuff of everything–“ Derek screams, scanning the room at both of us. ”You both don't happen to be… Supernos, right?“

”It's probably not even true,“ I say, but Shayna switches the channel and we see a Superno attack against a random city. ”Breaking news just now, a Superno known as the Deathbringer has been seen in Europe destroying many country capitals…“

”Oh… well,“ I start, but Derek cuts me off.

”You two are Supernos, right?“ Derek begins. ”That's how Shayna stole the car. She has mind control. And you… you're an illusionist. That's why you were having all those weird visions and forgetting everything, it's because you were making illusions in your head…“

Ending - 9/9 successes, end any way I choose (568 words)

”That would… make sense,“ I say, slowly backing away from Derek and Shayna. ”I don't know how to control it though, it just comes out of nowhere…“

”You're not going to go all betrayal on me and… hurt me, right?“ Derek says, slowing backing away from me and approaching a nearby lamp.

”Yes, Derek, I'm going to kidnap you and tie you up and use you as my own–“ I start, but Shayna cuts me off.

”Woah, there, Matt, you're getting a little too excited right now, calm down,“ Shayna says. ”Take this as a no. We are perfectly fine, I am not sure what's going on with those other ‘Supernos’ out there, though…“

”I mean, once somebody has the power over other people, that leads to a whole lot of terrible things…“ I point out.

”Why did you two get powers, but not me? I'm feeling a little left out right now,“ Derek says, sitting down on the couch.

”It's because your not special like us,“ I say, rolling my eyes. ”Maybe if you weren't straight you would have gotten a superpower.“

”Okay, so can I turn gay for you yet?“ Derek says.

”Oh my gosh, can you quit it with this bromance and focus right now? The world is doomed at this point, have you seen the news? All these Supernos, they're terrorizing the planet…“ Shayna mentions.

”They haven't touched the area that we lived yet. That's good right, we can wait and procrastinate like we always do,“ I say, yawning and stepping back inside of the house.

”And besides, if a Superno comes to kill us, I'm sure you guys will protect me. Or at least, I know my lovely Matt over here will,“ Derek smirks.

”I don't get how men function sometimes, both straight and gay ones,“ Shayna sighs. ”Fine. You guys can just wait until death comes running after you all, but I am going to try to find a way to–“

”Um, Shayna, look outside, I think we're in big trouble…“ I say. Out in the distant, the sky seems to darken a little like a storm is approaching. But there aren't clouds, just… a dark mist.

”What in the world is that…“ Derek says, approaching closer to see what I was making a fuss about.

”It's… probably nothing right?“ Shayna says. ”Maybe it's God coming to punish you two for being gay and everything, you know how–“

”No, look–“ I say, pointing out the dark tendrils that seem to move on their own. ”It's like it's alive…“

”Is that a person in the middle of the fog? What in the–“ Derek says, taking a few steps backward. ”It's approaching, we should–“

Out of nowhere, a black tentacle shoots out from the mist, approaching quickly towards the area we are standing. Derek pulls me and Shayna into the house and shuts the door shut, in time for a loud bang to be heard at the door.

”Oh my gosh, Derek, you just saved my life,“ I screamed. ”I don't know what in the world is out there.“

”Save your kisses and sucking up for later,“ Derek says. ”We can share a guest bedroom if we survive through this.“

”Oh. My. Gosh. You can not be saying this stuff when we're about to die,“ Shayna screams. ”There's a murderer outside?"

The door breaks open. I watch as the tendrils slither into the room.

Other Writing

Luna's Mystery wheel!!!

Set of words: river, flood, counter, dilute, filter, vegetation, count, sickness, ball, economic (I'm using all 10!)

(483 words)


Thank you notes:

Hi Lyn! I'm sending you this message because I want to tell you how grateful I am that you're in our cabin; you're one of our most active campers, and the sci-fi team truly appreciates everything that you do for our cabin <33 your dedication does not go unnoticed, and we sincerely value everything that you do four our cabin. I'm so glad that you were sorted into our cabin, you're an amazing camper, and I hope to get to know you a lot more! Keep being the amazing person you are, we've seen how many dailies you do and it's astounding to see how much effort you put every day towards our cabin <33 We hope that you keep up that amazing work and that you also keep being the wonderful, phenomenal person you are! Don't let anybody tell you that you're not enough, because the sci-fi team has no words to describe how much you mean to us ^^ You're truly one of a kind, and again, thank you so much for your contributions to our cabin! <33

Hi Celes! You're in my word count group, and you're amazing, the end just kidding, there's more ahaha xD You've literally done all the dailies and even the weekly, and that's something you should be proud of! Not all of the sci-fi campers are active, and here you are bulldozing through every single activity that the main cabin throws at you– you even do word wars, and even I don't have time to do those! Not only do you do so many main cabin activities, but I see how much of a role model you are to the campers; you constantly motivate them, respond to them when they post their dailies in the main cabin, and it's truly heart-warming to see how much you care about our cabin ^^ your dedication is unmatched, and it surely does not go unnoticed by the sci-fi leaders! You make wonderful contributions to our cabin, and I hope you keep up the great work ^^ I'm so glad to have you in the sci-fi cabin, and I hope you continue to be the wonderful, inspiring person you are

Hi Writi! I am writing this to inform you how amazing you are, but I'm sure already realize that ^^ You're an awesome person, and I love seeing you around our cabin! I know that we can always depend on you to make sure that the dailies are done by at least one camper, and it's amazing that you've done the weekly for us as well! Your dedication does not go unnoticed by the sci-fi members, as we genuinely appreciate all the contributions you give to our cabin <3 You're a valuable member of the sci-fi cabin, and we hope that you keep up your great work, it's fun to see all the enthusiasm that you put into our cabin you have a special place in all of the sci-fi members' hearts, so always remember that we're here for you and that we see everything that you do for us <33 If you ever need any motivation or encouragement, the sci-fi team is always here to help! Thank you so so much for the effort you put into our cabin; you've completed so many dailies it's insane <33

Hi Val! You're an amazing sci-fi camper, thank you so much for being so active! I've seen that you've done so many dailies and also the weeklies, which is extremely helpful for our cabin <33 I'm so grateful that you were sorted into our cabin, I see how active you are in the main cabin and that always cheers up all the sci-fi leaders You've written plenty of words too, so keep up the phenomenal work! You're truly an inspiration and a role model, thank you for putting in so much dedication to our cabin, we don't deserve you <33 I hope you continue the phenomenal work that you do, and that you keep being the awesome person you are! All of the contributions you do for our cabin do not go unnoticed, so I hope you continue to work on the future dailies and weeklies, and I hope to get to know you better as well! You were also the first person in our cabin to the first cabin war we were sent, so mad props to you, thank you so much for your activity!

Hi Gela! I'm so glad that you were sorted into my cabin, you're an amazing camper! You've done so much for our cabin, and I appreciate how many dailies you have done, and especially that you even managed to do the weekly! Phenomenal work, the sci-fi leaders truly value the dedication that you put into our cabin, and your hard work does not go unnoticed by us ^^ You're an amazing camper, so keep up the hard work and keep on being the awesome, inspiring person you are <33 I understand that you won't be active the next week, but we still appreciated all the work you did at the beginning of camp, and we hope to see you back later once whatever's going on gets resolved, though if you need more time, please prioritize yourself! You are a valuable member of our cabin who has made so many valuable contributions <33 Thank you so much for your activity, you've written so many words as well, and it's been awesome seeing you add words to my word count studio Stay awesome, Gela! <3

Hi Astra! You are literally so active, I can't tell you how much we appreciate your contributions to our cabin, your dedication to the sci-fi cabin is insane and we sincerely appreciate everything that you have done for our cabin <33 You have earned so many points for our cabins, do so many dailies, even did the weekly, and also written so many words! You're doing an awesome job, Astra, so keep it up, you're a fantastic addition to our cabin and I'm so grateful that you're in the sci-fi cabin <33 Your dedication and diligence do not go unnoticed by the sci-fi leaders, every time we see you completing the main activities it brings a smile to our faces You're one of our most active campers, and your activity helps sci-fi so much, I don't know what our cabin would do without you <33 Keep on grinding those main cabin activities, and keep on being the amazing, phenomenal camper you are! Everything you do is so much appreciated <33

H Avali! I remember you from my cabin last session, you were really active and you're also really active now Thank you so much for doing the main cabin activities, the sci-fi leaders can always depend on you to complete the dailies and do the weekly, you're awesome Your dedication and hard work do not go unnoticed by the sci-fi leaders, we truly appreciate all the work that you put into our cabin and we can not say thank you enough <33 You're a wonderful addition to our cabin, and I'm so glad that you were placed into our cabin, you're an awesome person and a talented writer as well ^^ Keep up the phenomenal work, it's very hard to do the dailies and the weekly, but you manage to do it so effortlessly, we sincerely appreciate how much you're committed to our cabin <33 Keep being the wonderful, astonishing person you are and don't forget to smile every day because you are a truly epic person and unique individual Thanks so much, and keep grinding those dailies and weeklies

Hi Bailey! So sorry for sending this to you late, I haven't had much this this week xD You're an amazing camper and I'm so glad that you're in our cabin You are so active and you write so many words, I don't know what our cabin would do without you <33 You're an amazing SWC veteran too, your dedication to both SWC and sci-fi is unmatched, the sci-fi leaders really appreciate the dedication and commitment that you put towards SWC as a whole and our cabin ^^ your contributions mean a lot to us and they do not go unnoticed! You're an awesome person and we hope that you do more dailies and weeklies for our cabin D Everything that you do is astounding and your writing is amazing– you're also so active, we only have a few active campers in our cabin and you're one of them You're a role model to everybody so keep being the wonderful person you are, and keep u the hard work You're such an inspiration, keep being the role model you are

Hi Ryna! Thank you so much for the dedication and hard work that you put into our cabin, seeing your contributions to our cabin really brightens our day and I'm so glad that you're in my cabin <33 Your hard work does not go by unnoticed by us and we truly appreciate all the effort you put in! You're a valuable member of our cabin and I'd like to thank you so much for your diligence and dedication <33 You have helped our cabin so much, and you're an amazing and epic person D We value everything that you do for our cabin, so keep on grinding those main cabin dailies and weeklies, we really appreciate it You're such a role model to our other campers and we hope that you know that the sci-fi leaders are always here for you if you need any help! Keep being the wonderful person you are, and keep up the hard work It's fantastic seeing you around in our cabin putting in so much effort and dedication, it gives us leaders purpose seeing how active you are <33

Hi Dove! Thank you so much for completing so many dailies and weeklies for our cabin, it's genuinely appreciated by the sci-fi leaders and we hope that you continue to keep up the hard work <33 We enjoy seeing all the contributions that you make to our cabin, and I don't what our cabin would do without you – you're a valuable member to our cabin and we sincerely appreciate all the dedication and effort that you put in! I've seen how active you are for our cabin and that always makes us leaders happy I hope you continue to keep up the hard work and continue to be the amazing, wonderful person you are ^^ The sci-fi leaders are going through some rough personal stuff right now, and seeing your activity always brightens our day Campers like you give us purpose and motivation, so thank you so much for being such a role model and inspiration to the sci-fi leaders and to your fellow campers as well! I'm so glad you were sorted into my cabin, you're amazing <33

Word Wars

LUNA'S BIRTHDAY NOTE:
HI LUNA I AM SPEEDRUNNING THIS NOTE FOR YOU I AM SO SORRY </33 I would spend a lot more time on this but alas schoolwork has gotten the best of me, so let's see how much I can write for you in ten minutes; I'm sure it will be very easy to ramble about how amazing you are because there are so many words that I can use to describe how epic of a person you are, so many phrases I could combine from the English dictionary of whateverness and still would not be able to fully describe the pure authenticity of amazingness of coolness you are B)) yes that was a bunch of big words I stole from my Language Arts essay because flowery language is the best kind of language <33 Anyways back on topic about the SHOWSTOPPING LAVISH LAVENDER LAVATORY LUNAA … or landfill I forgot what we have established because I am panicking while writing this gosh this is scarier than writing a Language Arts assignment … anyways WHERE DO WE BEGIN so the story starts when it was hot and it was summer and … wait no you aren't as big of a Tay Swiftie fan as me unfortunately /hj – BUT in reality the story does start when it was summer of JulY 2021 remember that nudge nudge because I surely don't LOL but from the rumors I have heard and from stalking the files of my past memories backuped in some random hard drive I can conclude that I was in fact an honorary of Finley's cabin, and apparently you were well aware of this revelation B)) and that's apparently where you first met me but unfortunately as a very busy polar bear I had not had the time to properly get to know you B)) … and then fast forward to November 2021 you were cool in Thriller of Soki's cabin I knew that you existed … and I think that was pretty much it . and yeah that's it the end of our story, it's been great so far I love the pure details and wonderful memories from those three months … JK because March 2022 exists and boy was that … betterish LOL you let me be an honorary in your cabin and that made me really happy and I think you were the only cabin that allowed me to be an honorary? I'm not sure I am very forgetful but I do believe you were the only one generous enough to allow the polar bear to invade your cabin so see this proves just how kind and charitable AND AMAZING YOU ARE LUNA!! anyways I believe this is FINALLY where this story ends right, it ends in the pitch-black of a lasagna-eating polar-bear-dwelling cave right?? oh wait NO LOL because that was just like first three chapters of the story and like the remaining forty-three chapters consist of July 2022 and onwards because JULY 2022 WAS A REAL DOOZY WASN'T IT oh my gosh so uh where to start … I honestly don't know how it started i kind of forgot LOL i think it started with me giving compliments to people during cabin wars of march 2022 ? and i sent an oh my gosh luna so dope man comment (well it wasn't that StrAIghT-forward but you get what i mean right… please appreciate my pun that i came up with on the spot it is hard to think when you have like three minutes or so left to write but anyway) and then we started talking more on July 2022 did some shared trauma stuff and whatnot oh wait i think we clearly skipped over the marvel hot men argument in march 2022 which will become VERY important in july 2022 with the development of the well-known infamous system called cuddle buddies LOL don't you remember that that was a slay moment i am looking forward to the reinactment of that system in November 2022 somehow … but LOL the late nights of planning we put into that thing was so fun and unfortunately we do not have any new people to add to the list… unless we're counting irl people but i don't think you would let me add HIM on the list… you know who i am talking about LOL but yeah thanks a lot for sitting through all my long rants about HIM and yes i understand he is bad so maybe as a birthday present i will be less obsessive over him B)) but anyways back to the STar Of tHE shOw LuNa luna luna yes or more accurately the moon of the show but that doesn't have a nice ring to it L anyways A LOT OF STUFF HAPPENED IN JULY RIGHT and so much stuff happened that i can not remember all the details but yeah … lots of lATE niGHt tALking ~~not a harry styles reference i am not a harry styles fan … and no luna don't get any ideas of adding any of the one direction members on the CB system LOL~~ BUT I think a very important thing is… the fact I REKT YOUR HORROR CABIN IN-CABIN POINTS LOLOLOL get rekt LLLLLLL – anyways i screamed at my dad to give me five more minutes to write this so i gotta be fast because i have like two minutes left– but anyways horror was so much fun lol i dominated that in-cabin system and i think this reveals the power of the CB system giggle giggle hehehe but anyways please let me wreck your cabin again – oh wait new honorary rules RIP lol … but we could always do it on some spreadsheet with all the same cabin activities but im just not in the description B)) that reminds me SPREADSHEETS did i tell you hoW MUCH OF A SPREADSHEET GENIUS YOU ARE OH MY GOSh you don't know how many months of spreadsheets usage until i began using some of the functions you manage to grasp in like a week LIKE HOW YOU'RE SO COOL OH MY GOSH and now i am on my school laptop that i hid in my room typing this because it is officially my bed time and my dad told me to get off my laptop </33 but I WILL FINISH THIS STORY FOR YOUR SAKE BECAUSE YOU DESERVE AN AMAZING BIRTHDAY NOTE LUNA because luna is so fabalous and wonderful and i will continue to ramble until this gets to around 1500 words or something and grammarly is telling me i have a lot of issues with my writing but honestly i do not care because luna will understand me regardless which brinGS uP the next point OF HOW UNDERSTANDING LUNA IS !!! luna is so understanding and that makes her an even awesomer friend and you do not know how many times luna has saved me from awkward convos LOL anyway lets give a round of applause to luna for being an epic person and i am trying to type as softly as possible as to not alarm my dad that i have a laptop in my room L but i still got time so (look if luna ain't a tay swiftie fan we all know that every dedicated swcer is an albabababa fan so hehehehe) ANYWAYS I REALLY NEED TO WRAP THIS UP LUNA I AM SO SORRY I COULD NOT WRITE MORE in your birthday note but i will end this off with hOW FUN BOARD GAMES ARE !!! oh my gosh playing board games with Luna is so fun giggles while it's awesome decimating Luna 90% of the time (for birthday happiness reasons, this is a joke… kind of) IT IS also fun to play those collaborative games too ahem that ocean game that we KEEP FORGETTING THE OTHER TASKS WE HAVE LOL anyways did i mention i was going to end on board games – nah fam we are actually going to end on the fact how luna ran away from me as soon as she saw the opportunity B)) i mean what no i meanT WE ARE going to end on how fun those faux chats on spreadsheets were LOL all those colors you went through and the different symbols we went through before you settled on the genius idea of USING THE SPACE CHARACTER LIKE IF THAT DOESN'T PROVE LUNA'S GENIUS I DONT KNOW WHAT DOES … but yeah rip homework pact you will be missed chat-that-i-can-use-in-class (( i will be forever alone in china rip DID I MENTION THAT I WAS GOING TO END ON FAUX CHATS nope we are not we are ending with how COOL LUNA'S TASTE IN MUSIC IS B)) imagine dragons is dope you are dope too and luna also listened to the entire discography of bastille (…once… even though I've listened to it like a hundred times on repeat … but HEY AT LEAST LUNA SUFFERED THROUGH IT ALL B))) so yeah we must all appreciate luna's dedication AND PURE GRIT AND DETERMINATION AND TOLERANCE to sit through five hours of british alternative music, bastille is kind of like alba but if alba was a all white boy band LLL with a lot more songs and a lot more albums LLLL anyways it's getting really late and i have an essay and a midterm and a test … sigh the things i do to try to write a decent birthday note to Lavatory luna but I WILL END WITH WISHING YOU THE MERRIEST OF CHRISTMASES AND the spookiest of HALLOWEENS!!! oh wait wrong holidays oops WISHING YOU THE HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS HOPE U EAT MORE arsonized cakes and don't burn the house down (ajr reference giggles hehehe) when you're lighting your candles B)) and when you blow them out lets hope for some smoke and mirrors (imagine dragons reference !!! giggles) … or maybe you won't remember and it'll all be a blur (another imagine dragons reference !!! giggle giggle) but nonetheless iTS tiME (another ref LOL) for you to come hang out (ajr!!) during your birthday party (ajr!! again B)) anyways you're dope man L



Intro (written by Birdi)

Hey there everybody! The second weekly has arrived

This week, we'll be focusing mainly on spoken forms of writing. It is our hope that through the amazing workshops written to educate you on these topics, you'll learn quite a bit about various types of spoken writing, such as songwriting, spoken word poetry, transcripts, and speeches/monologues.

Once more, to those who created these workshops, we can't thank you enough for sharing your expertise and research with us <3 And once more, thank you to the daily team for developing the idea of this weekly and making it a reality.

WEEKLY STARTS AT: 12:01 a.m. November 9th, 2022. Wait until then to start writing.

So, without further ado, let's get into it!

Part 1: Transcripts (written by Starr)

Let's start off with a bang - the first weekly activity we'll be doing is … writing a transcript!

Check out Sein's wonderful workshop on how to write one . Then, let’s apply that knowledge to make your own Here’s how it’ll play out:

First, grab a partner! Ask a friend to work with you, or find another interested SWC participant . After you’ve established that neither of you are sky monster invaders (or, in fact, that you are) interview each other in the comments.

You’ll be doing two interviews - one as the interviewee (being interviewed) and the other as the interviewer (asking the questions). During the one where you’re the interviewer, transcribe the exchange as if you were interviewing your partner in real life.

Here are some example topics you could talk about!
- Your experiences in SWC and writing
- A sport, hobby or activity
- Media (books, music, art)
- Opinions on pineapple pizza
- Anything that interests you

As it’s an interview, keep your tone a bit formal, but also conversational. Feel free to develop a persona for this activity - we’re working on writing skills, not specifically accuracy ^^

You must write a minimum of 200 words (a total of 400 between both of you). Best of luck, and have fun transcribing!

Part 2: Monologues/Speeches (written by Daisy)

The second part of the weekly is about monologues and speeches, and an incredible workshop has been delivered to you by the incredible Fae here! (Insert link to workshop)

Once you’ve read the workshop, find a partner in the main cabin and work together to write a collaborative monologue. Make sure to write 300 words individually, but keep the whole monologue under 750 words. Include a basic context structure and a topic of your choice.

Good luck and have fun writing!

Part 3: Spoken Word Poetry (written by Finch)

Let's learn about spoken word poetry! In fact, the best way to learn would be to visit (this) workshop about just that (many thanks to Sun for providing it to us).

Assuming you've read the lovely workshop, it's time to begin the third activity. As you may have guessed, you will be creating your own spoken poem. Please write about something that is actually important to you (after all, poetry has more power when it is about a meaningful topic). The final poem should be 3 minutes long.

Once you have it written, it's time to incorporate the whole “spoken” aspect of it. Try performing it to a mirror by yourself See what words you want to emphasize, how you want to deliver your lines, how you want to move your body. If you feel comfortable enough to do so, record it and listen to the playback. If you really don't want to say it out loud, try to at least imagine how you would say it.

Alright, it's writing time. Good luck, future poets!

Part 4: Songwriting (written by Alba)

The final Spoken Form we’re going to be exploring this week is *technically* not spoken at all - it’s sung. That’s right, this section is going to be is all about Songwriting!

This workshop was written by the esteemed @-Alocasia – aka me! – and you will be able to access it (here). Once you’ve read it through, hopefully, you’ll feel well-prepared to approach our very last activity: doing some songwriting of your own.

Return to the (Language of Flowers project) and pick just ONE flower. That flower’s name is now your song title, and its Victorian meaning is the theme – but the rest is up to you! Use what you have learned in the workshop to write and share a set of lyrics. For this exercise, your set of lyrics should:

- Include two verses or more
- Include a chorus that repeats twice or more
- Include a bridge
- Be at least 250 words long.

Some resources for approaching this activity are available (here*) if you wish to use them. Good luck and happy songwriting!

Example Chorus:
Flower: Foxglove
Meaning: treachery
Chorus:
And I will paint this marble floor in all the colours you outcast me for
I’ll take this victory between my teeth, and I’ll grin all the more
You thought you’d seen the last of me? So dastardly, you barred the doors
I’m sorry, I still hold the key; my foxgloves nimbler than yours.

Conclusion (written by Zaine)

To earn 2500 points for your cabin, you must comment in the Main Cabin with proof of:
- 400 words from an interview transcript with a partner, with at least 200 words written by you
- a monologue written with a partner, with at least 300 words written by you
- a spoken word poem, minimum of 3 minutes long
- a song based on Alba's flower project with at least two verses, a chorus repeated at least twice, a bridge, and at least 250 words long

Comment in the Main Cabin by November 15th, 11:59 PM UTC to earn points! We will not count late weeklies.

Good luck and have fun!

Special thanks to Luna for helping plan this weekly, Zaine for compiling and organizing this weekly, and all of the above-mentioned writers and workshop creators for their hard work in delivering this weekly!

Daily for July 2nd

Word count: 511

My question was: Is this wise? My answer: Better not tell you now…

“I don't think this is wise…” Amara's voice trailed off as I shushed her.
“Quiet! This will work, just watch.” I held the magic 8 ball up and asked my question.
“Is it wise to-” I'm suddenly cut off by my sister, Alisha's shrill voice.
“Emery! I know you're up there with your friend. You are not getting out of chores by hiding in your room! I'm not doing the dishes, that's your chore!” Alisha's yelling was followed by pounding on my door. “Be down in 5 minutes or I'm telling mom about Jason!!” I cringed at the mention of my secret boyfriend's name. By secret, I mean mom doesn't know about him. With my luck, mom would have heard Alisha all the way from the grocery store.
Alisha's outburst had startled me, causing me to drop the magic 8 ball. “Did you see where it went?” I asked Amara, frantically searching. I needed that answer!
“Over there somewhere.” Amara made a vague gesture towards my four-poster bed.
I fell to my knees, ignoring the pain that shot up my knee as it landed on a stray lego block, probably my brother's. I ripped the flowered quilt off my bed, not even noticing where it landed. There! I reached under and my hands closed on the cool plastic of the ball and I held it up over my head triumphantly.
“Now, what's the answer?” I turned the ball to view the answer and… “Better not tell you now!” I was so disappointed, I really need that answer!
“I told you it was a bunch of baloney.” Amara frowned at me. “What are you going to do now?”
“Well,” I thought for a moment. “Better not tell you now doesn't sound very promising…” I trailed off. “I guess the answer is no.” I sighed. “I guess I won't join.”
“I'm telling you now, you're making the wrong decision…”

A month later

It was a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. I was walking to the cafeteria when a poster caught my eye. One time only!! A poster for the drama club! I scanned it, then read it again. I stood there blinking back tears. The drama club was heading to Europe for a tour. They were going to see all sorts of famous plays and actors. Travelling to Europe was my dream! My mind flashed back to the day in my room with the magic 8 ball. The questions I had asked, Is it wise to join the drama club? and the answer I had gotten, Better not tell you now. That answer had convinced me it was better to not join the drama club. That decision led to me missing out on my dream trip. I remembered Amara's advice. I should have listened to her, not the magic 8 ball. I realize now that the magic 8 ball is just an inanimate object that has no thoughts. It's just a toy. It can't tell the future or give advice. I'll always remember that in the future.

“Should the character go to the moon?”
“Yes.”
Here’s the daily the July 2! (505 words)

Once there was a girl named Jessica Jackson. Jessica didn’t like her life. She didn’t like her school, she didn’t like her house, and she really didn’t like her classmates. Every day, two kids would come up to her and bully her. Their names were James and Eliza. They always told her about how ugly she was, and how she was a nerd since she loved science. Jessica had already tried to tell an adult about James and Eliza, but they would always find a way to get out of trouble.

One day, Jessica was walking to her locker when James and Eliza blocked her path. She tried to go around them, but they didn’t let her go. “Still in the nerd club? Maybe you should try another club since you’re probably the only one in that club,” Eliza sneered. James pushed her to the ground, and her books flew out of her backpack and fell on the ground. James and Eliza kept insulting her as she picked up her books. Soon, a group of people were around her, calling her names and insulting her.

“She’s so short, I can’t believe she’s in third grade!”
“What a nerd. She looks so weird.”
“I wonder how many friends she has… zero?”

All of the words echoed in Jessica’s mind. They swirled around, taunting and teasing her. Then someone said something that gave her an idea.

“Why don’t you fly over to the moon and never come back?”

Those words hurt like all of the other words did. But they had an opportunity. An idea. As the idea started to grow in her mind, the bell rang and everyone ran to their classes. During class, Jessica was hard at work. Instead of drawing diagrams of a plant, she drew diagrams of a rocket. Instead of reading a book the class was reading, she read a book about space. Instead of studying about animals, she studied the moon.

After many years of studying, drawing, building, and testing, Jessica, who was now 19, set up a moonbase and created a rocket to fly to the moon (with the help of NASA.) She was finally with some friends (and a cat). It was a very large rocket, with everything they needed. Jessica would never have to worry about getting bullied.

It was finally the day of the launch. Jessica and her friends went into the rocket and the countdown began.
“5…”
Jessica took a deep breath.
“4…”
She smiled and asked everyone else if they were feeling okay.
“3…”
She imagined what it would be like in space.
“2…”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“1!”
The rocket zoomed into the clear blue sky.

After a while, they landed on the moon and went inside the moonbase. Jessica saw Earth. The blue and green sphere had white swirls all around it. It was truly beautiful.

Jessica took a photo.
She felt happier than she ever had been.

CJ's Writing Log

Word Count 468.
Daily 2:

Will I visit Atlantis?
Very doubtful.

It all felt like a distant memory. The crash of the waves. The burning in my chest. The water rushing in my ears. Then it all faded away until there was nothing to be heard but silence and nothing to be seen but the black darkness of my empty mind.

I woke up to the sound of bubbles. Bubbles? My eyes twitched open. My eyes widened as I slowly took in my surroundings. Tall spires the height of skyscrapers. The windows of seaglass glimmered as the seaweed seemed to dance back and forth to the beat of the waves. I felt a graininess beneath my feet and looked down to see sand between my toes. Paths of smooth rock weaved in between buildings, glimmering in the light of the day. Colorful fish swam in groups and dolphins played happily among each other. Crustaceans, small animals, and plants ruled the sandy floor. Crabs hid behind shells, starfish soaked up sun on rocks, and algae grew wild overtaking entire stretches of land. But the strangest thing of all was there seemed to be people. No that wasn’t the right word to describe them. They had the top half of people, but they had tails of fish. Their scales were a wonderful array of colors and they glinted in the light making something that could only be described as a rainbow sparkles everywhere.

I wondered, could this be Atlantis. The lost city? Surely not. But as I looked around, I realized that it must be. Everything added up. The only thing I didn’t get was that nobody seemed to see me. Twice now people had walked by me without even noticing me. Was I invisible to them? Examining my surroundings again I realized that I seemed to be in some sort of bubble. I touched my hair. It was dry, not a trace of wetness. I touched my clothes; they were dry as well. I tentatively poked the bubble. It rippled but then rebounded back to its original state. Well, I thought, if I’m going to be stuck down here, I might as well have some fun. I spied the nearest food looking restaurant and zoomed away.

Three hours later I was thoroughly full and couldn’t eat another bite. Mmmm I thought that was the best fish burger I’ve had in my entire life. Oooh and that pearl dessert. The crunchy pearls really added texture. I should probably think about going home I thought drowsily as the world began to blur.

2 hours later.

I was awake in my bed with a full stomach and a chewed apart pillow. Alas it was just a dream. Strangely my mouth tasted dry like I had drunk a gallon of sea water. But perhaps that was just the feathers and fabric I had consumed.

Note: If anyone every wants to critique my writing I'm totally open to that

Main cabin daily:
((Magic eight ball.))
Question: “Is Luce's life going to be changed by the medallion?” “Signs point to yes”

For the part of her life that she did remember, Luce has always been carrying the weight of the mysterious amulet she was found with and whatever curses it carried. According to the people who lived in Sulit it carried some kind of curse and that was bad enough. The only people who even spoke to her and didn't throw a holy text at her whenever she walked by were the people who took her in (Anna and Lukas) as well as Blaine. Blaine was the only person in Sulit who seemed to be ok in the head and did not believe in local supersticions. Though personally Luce didn't even blame the residents of Sulit for being confused and unsettled about a random girl washing ashore with only a strange medallion and a fancy dress. She'd be concerned as well if she were those people. But she didn't let any curses or supersticions get into her head until one day, she did. It started out as any other normal day would. The roosters would wake everyone up with the sun and everyone would get straight to work whatever that meant for each person. For Luce it meant collecting the eggs from Anna and Lukas' chickens and then as the day progressed there would be more jobs for her depending on what was needed. During lunch everything went well until Lukas who happened to be reading the newspaper gasped. Anna and Luce were obviously concerned.
“What is it?” Anna asked.
“I think-” Lukas put his words together, “I think our girl is-”
“What? What's up with Luce? Especially in the newspaper!” said Anna
“She's the daughter of the dark mage Prosperro”
“How do you know that? That can't be true! Even if she was why is it now that whatever is happening, happening?” Anna carried on in shock
“It says that Prosperro is giving a reward to anyone who brings her to him and is going on a rampage in the south to find his daughter,” explained Lukas, “and how he wants to recognize her is by a medallion. Just like the one Luce has.”
“But, that can't be,” exclaimed Luce, “or- can it?”
What they didn't know was that Luce was full of some kind of magic, be it dark or light. She couldn't imagine what horrors or dreams awaited her if Prosperro actually found her out. It was most likely nothing good.

403 words

Second daily <3
7/2/2022
547 words!

Q: Is my main character evil?
A: It is certain.

I typically don’t do this, but today I take special care to smile brightly at everyone as I walk past them down the street. There’s no sense in drawing negative attention to myself. Besides, once the news is out after I finish what I plan to do today, witnesses will recognize me as ‘the lady who smiled on the street’ and automatically deviate from suspecting me of doing anything. They can’t help it – it’s a subconscious reaction.

These are the things I’ve learned through a life of crime. They seem quite minor, don’t they? But I’ve found that sometimes they can make all the difference. Others might call me evil, vile, malicious, but I prefer to think of myself as a vigilante. Or perhaps an entertainer. The stunts I pull are like nothing else anyone has ever seen. A genuine smirk breaks through to the surface. I provide people entertainment every time I’m on the news. That’s one way to think of it.

I inhale. Exhale. Time my breaths with my steps. Thunder is rumbling in my mind, despite it being a nice sunny day. I wish there wasn’t such a cheerful atmosphere. It conflicts with my motivations, and I’m really not in the mood to keep up a persistent smile like this. But I do anyway. Many other strangers smile back, and I think to myself, when they go home today and watch the news, they’ll realize they may have met a legend. A star.

Swiftly, I turn into a clothing store. My fingertips prickle with anticipation. I remind myself to smile at the store owner and then disappear into a clothing rack. I reappear dressed in a dark bodysuit and a mask from my sack, and I melt into the shadows as I quietly exit the store. My gaze strays to the store owner – he hasn’t even spared me a glance.

I decide to make myself visible a short distance away, and now I’m drawing glances. People are starting to pull out their phones and discreetly take videos of me. I’m very photogenic, and I soak it up. These videos are what will appear on the news tonight, and I want to look my best.

I kneel down to a little girl. “Honey, if you don’t want to cause a commotion, tell your mother to give me her wallet.”

The little girl starts to cry and I sigh. I guess I’ll just have to take it, then.

So I snatch her mother’s whole purse and I start running. People are shouting now, pursuing me. This is going great. I feel the energy starting to course through me, and then it happens. Time flashes before me.

I focus intently on where I want to be one second from now, and then a crack opens in space and time, I’m sucked in, and a moment later I’m standing on a rooftop above the street and the wallets of everyone on the street are in my sack. I rummage through them, pluck out some cash, and make a show of scattering the remaining wallets over the street. That should keep everyone busy, I think, and with that I vault over a few more rooftops and melt away again.

daily 2
question: is there a corrupt government?
answer: without a doubt.

The town of Idem couldn’t be, as the locals say, as perfect as it was. The citizens lived peacefully within the depths of the town, with everything they could’ve imagined - food, water, and nourishment. There was love everywhere they went, from family to neighbourhoods to communities. It was a town where even the most dangerous of illnesses could be cured. Everyone was rest assured that they would live prosperous lives the day that they were born.
The government made sure that there were no crimes or violence that would happen in the lovely, quiet town of Idem. To ensure this, the government would frequently appear in the radios, speaking about how bad morals are not accepted in the town. Posters and campaign signs were clear enough for Idemians, signifying how they were to behave at all times.
Posters of the town’s government were displayed all around the town - from town centres to parks, and sometimes even on the houses at the inhabitant’s discretion. The posters were all commemorating all the good deeds the government has done in order for the town to be like it was now. Slogans like “Poverty is no longer your property!” and “Nice deeds are for happy needs” were the most frequently used.
Everyone was assigned a title. From birth, everyone’s title would be “Supporter”.
The people who break the rules are labelled as “Rebels” and are stripped of the basic privileges a “Supporter” has. This included the nutritious food, luxurious housing, and free medical insurance the government provides. The Rebels were deported off to a nearby island which the government owns. They were deprived of their basic necessities for a healthy living. They were also separated from their family members. They lived there until the government’s approval, which then would deem them “fit for society”. However, their title would not be changed back to “Supporter” - instead, their title would change to “Revolter”.
The Supporters lived great lives; first being a child - going to school, maturing - then an adult - working, providing for family - then dying of natural causes. They will pass away with a smile on their faces, the government stated. You all will pass away with memories of a good life, as long as you are what a good Supporter is supposed to be.

“Happy Lives!” the head of the government, President Imperium spoke into the microphone at the town centre. “Remember to be grateful for your Happy Lives!” The crowd cheered at his voice.

“I would like to thank all of you for providing the town with good morals. Without you all, we wouldn’t be here. And if we weren’t here, then you - citizens of Idem, wouldn’t have the privilege of experiencing all your happiness! Thank President Idem!”
“Thank you, President Idem!” the crowd chorused.

“May you all live an Idemian life.” And with that, he ended his speech. It was the government slogan. The crowd cheered before dispersing.

“Woohoo!” Jodie cheered, clapping her hands. “Go Idem!” her dark curls flew about her.

“Come on,” an exact, perhaps taller, doppelgänger of Jodie said, grasping her hand. “I need to cook dinner.”

“Oh, alright!” Jodie smiled, before being pulled away by her mother. She waved goodbye at the now crouching President Idem, who didn’t wave back.

“Aww why didn’t President Ideam wave back?” Jodie said, sadness tinging her voice as she walked with her mother down the street.

“Don’t worry, he’s really busy. You know that, honey.” her mother smiled at her. “Come on, let’s go make pancakes together!”

“Hooray! Pancakes for dinner!” Jodie grinned.

Back at the government house, President Imperium had just arrived, his suitcases filled to the brim with various papers, flyers, and writings. He had lost his professional demeanour - his hair was ruffled by the wind, and his tie was crooked.

“What’s up?” his assistant, Adiutor, asked, pulling out a chair from the desk. President didn’t say a word as he sat down.

“Food shortages from Beryllium,” he muttered, dragging his suitcases towards him. “They’ve run out of stock for most meats. The town will notice.”
“What do we do now, then?” Adiutor asked, pulling papers from the desk drawer behind them. “Should we call another town meeting tomorrow?”

“No, too much work.” Imperium sighed. “We need to distract them somehow.”

Adiutor was about to speak before Nuntius, Imperium’s messenger and one of his trusted friends, burst into the room.

“Imperium!”

“What is it?” Imperium asked, sinking into his chair. He massaged his eyes.

“A Rebel is nowhere to be found!”

“What?!”

Imperium stood up and shook Nuntius. “Where is the Rebel?”

“That’s what the authorities are asking as they search the island. He wasn’t there for the morning meeting.” Nuntius shook his head. “How will we cover this up? We can’t let the town know.”

“We will broadcast a live podcast on everyone’s radios,” Imperium declared. “I will distract them and remind them what a good Supporter is.”

“And the Rebel?”

“Keep looking for him. We can’t have any escapees. We absolutely cannot.”

The next day, the radio in Jodie’s living room gave off a static noise.

“Ooh another podcast, I presume!” Another replica of Jodie bustled in the room, except they had shorter hair and a strong build. Jodie and her father sat near the radio.

“Good morning, citizens of Idem.” President Imperium’s voice spoke. “This is a friendly podcast to remind each and every one of you about the virtues a Supporter must have, joined with me by Adiutor, my assistant. Isn’t that right, Adiutor?”

“Yes,” a female voice replaced him. “Adiutor I am. Everyone knows the three virtues a Supporter must have - dignity, integrity and respect. The DIRs. Everyone, repeat after me! ‘Each Support must have the three DIRs - dignity, integrity, and respect!’”

“Each supporter must have the three DIRs - dignity, integrity, and respect!” Jodie and her father repeated loudly with proudness.

The podcast continued for about an hour. For that hour, Nuntius ran back and forth, reporting to Imperium that the Rebel had not been sighted.

A man dressed in black rags and grey shorts walked on the outskirts of the island, barefoot. He sung a sorrowful song:

When will they realise
The world they live in?
The sea touches my feet
And I see the town beneath
Down in the depths of blindness
Soon they will steep in sadness
As for President Imperium
Although you have a crowd in a stadium
You will not defeat
The ones who try to retreat

word count: 1076

Daily 07/02/2022 - Magic 8 Ball
404 words
I asked “Is my character going to die?” and the 8 ball said “Ask again later.”

A box! The man wearing gloves is setting me down in it. I look up at him and meow. The box is cold and smells metallic. I put my paws on the edge to climb out, but the man nudges me back in.
“Now, now, Fishbait,” he says. “I can’t have you running off now.”
It’s only then that I notice the small crowd of people gathered behind him. They’re watching me in silence. I don’t know how long they’ve been there.
That’s weird. Normally I’m aware of everything.
I try to wander over to them before the man notices, but the second I’m out of the box he scoops me up. I meow loudly. He puts me back in the box. Oh well. At least I have a box. I sit down in the box. The harsh scent surrounds me. I stand up again and walk in a few tight circles, trying to figure out how to lie down. The box barely fits me and I have to tuck my tail around my body in order to not brush the cold metal.
There’s a small metal device on the side of the box! I stop my circling and tap it with my paw. It doesn’t budge. I rub my cheek along it. I may as well make this MY box if I’m here.
I was going to take a nap, I remember briefly. But what is this device!
The device’s smell is even stranger than the rest of the box. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything like it before.
As I sniff the box, the room gets darker. I look up. A lid is being lowered over my head. The box becomes pitch black, except for a small green light on the device. I lie down and stare at it. The light is entrancing.
I hear the man speak. “Now, we wait.” His voice is slightly muffled by the metal walls.
There is a faint ticking sound coming from outside the box, I think.
Other than that, it is silent. I can barely hear the crowd breathe.
I meow loudly. I think the crowd chuckles, so I meow some more.
“Well, it’s certainly not dead yet,” a voice remarks. It’s not the man who put me in the box. I wish I could picture the face of the speaker.
Wait, am I going to die?
Maybe I’ll take a nap after all.

427 words
“Use the magic 8-ball for a plot question”

“Is life a simulation?”
“Yes, definitely”
“Hello,” a calm voice pierced the silence, dragging me back to consciousness. It takes me a moment to realize my eyes are closed, and I tenderly open them. A blue hologram flickers in front of me. My eyes flick to the ground, a hazy blue structure of 1s and 0s. I try to reach out my hands, only to realize they are bound to the arms of the chair on which I sit. I struggled for a few moments, before giving up, accepting the fact that I was bound. My attention moved back to the hologram, which was regarding me closely.
“Who are you?” I asked, demanding in my voice.
“I am many things, none of which you will understand. But to you, my identity is most similar to an extraterrestrial intelligence”
I took a moment to absorb that, before asking another question.
“And why have you brought me here?”
“To reveal to you the truth,” the identity said. “You are in a simulation, and your soul, as you call it, is simulated.”
The fact hit me like a rock. A sudden surge of fury flew through me, and I tried to pull myself free of the ropes that confined me, but to no avail.
“Let me go!” I growled, “And why are you doing this?!”
The hologram regarded me with no concern “To gather information,”
“What?”
“To investigate the reaction humans have to situations,” they paused, “And how to react to the truth.”
I tensed, letting silence wrap itself around the room.
“You're lying,” I finally said, “This is just a dream.”
“No,”
However much i tried to deny this, I knew it was true. This wasn't a dream
I took a few breaths before responding “Untie me.” I said softly. The ontriants on my hands fell off, and I stood up. I walked to the wall of the room. Streams of code-like structure flew like a waterfall, and I gently touched my hand in it. It was beautiful.
“Why were you upset?”
I turned around, to see the hologram standing now too
“What caused you to be upset?”
“Because..My entire world, and everything I knew was ripped apart!” I blurted.
I stood there in silence.
“Who am I, really?” I whispered
Immediately the hologram responded “You are number F3596, and the 13,758,316,009th soul created.”
I turned back to the hologram “So what now?”
“You will return back to Earth, without any memory of this incident.” they paused, “Right now.”
And then it faded to black

Daily II - "Remember when you used to ask questions to a Magic 8 Ball? Here’s a project in which you can do that! https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/710721692/ Today, ask the ball a plot-related question, which will be related to your prompt. The outcome will then influence what happens in the story. For example, I could ask “Will I meet aliens?” and the answer could be “Most likely”, and then I could write a scene about meeting aliens. For 500 points, write at least 400 words with this prompt, and 100 extra points if you provide proof of your writing!“

Moonlit - ”Will there be arson?“
Magic 8 Ball - ”Cannot predict now“

written in second person - you are me (moonlit)
405 words

You wander through the Rift, unsure of precisely where you are going, but confident in your ability to navigate the twists and turns that undoubtedly lay in your path. The Rift is a tricky place - not easily manipulated, but that doesn't mean you haven't learned to find it's rhythm; the endless cycle of emotion, memories, thoughtful, impulses, and so much more that drives it is not without its patterns. With practice, you've mastered the fine art of reading that drive, that endless heartbeat that keeps the new creations flowing, giving this mysterious place a life of its own.

Stumbling, you glance down, only to realize that you nearly just walked off a sudden cliff. Light purple clouds materialize under your foot and gently lift you back on to the jagged edge, safely beyond reach of the danger of falling. For now at least. ”Thank you,“ you whisper, before asking, ”So why did you bring me here?"

To another, it might look as if you are talking to yourself, but the Rift seemingly has a mind of its own. A gently scraping sound rings out, and you look down once more to find a newly engraved image resting in the jet black rock. A roughly drawn girl holds a fire in her hands, as if she and the flame were of one mind, with only one purpose. To burn. Arson, perhaps, but why arson? You sigh, wondering what the Rift is trying to tell you.

You resist the urge to smile as more purple clouds shimmer into view around you, forming an unrecognizable shadow of a person. Its expression is far too grim to be anything but serious, and as it offers you a hand, you can’t help but hesitate. What exactly are you getting yourself into? Feeling the familiar weight of responsibility on your shoulders, you take the misty persona’s hand.

Together, you walk forward towards the daunting edge of the cliff. You square your shoulders as you peer over the edge, only to find endless purple clouds stretching in every direction. Torn between disappointment and relief, you realize the shadow person has stopped as well. It gestures to you, and it takes you a moment to understand its meaning. Jump, and face the arson. Join them, stop them, grab some popcorn and watch, it’s up to you. Or stay safely on the clifftop, just out of reach of the fire.

The choice is yours.

july 2 daily, magic 8 ball prompt, 511 words

It was a warm summer evening. I was sitting on the deck, gazing at the beautiful sunset and listening to the chirping of the crickets. A warm breeze swept past my face. I sighed. It was a perfect moment. My ginger cat, Sunset, was sleeping next to me with her bushy tail over her head. She snuffled as I stroked her back and batted my hand away.
“Indigo! Come in, it's time for dinner!” I heard my mother shout.
“Coming…” I got up shakily and gently nudged Sunset. She looked at me angrily for disturbing her sleep before going inside. I swear her look said, “That's it. Because you disturbed my sleep, I'm going to disturb yours. And it's not going to be fun for you.” It was an unsettling feeling, but I shook it off and followed her inside.
After dinner, I crawled into bed. Sunset came in, hopped on my bed and instantly reminded me of the look she gave me earlier.
“It's probably nothing,” I murmured to myself. Soon I drifted to sleep.

“Meow”
“Meow”
I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again. A blinding, yellow light was flashing in front of me, making it impossible not to shield my eyes. I blinked hard, my hands covering my face. And there it was again.
“Meow”
“What the…” was my first thought. Was I dreaming? The blinding light suddenly faded and reduced to nothing but a small, soft glow, like a firefly. I wearily pulled my hands away. Sunset stood in front of me, writhing in pain, as some… something, the glowing thing, grew just above her front legs. I rushed forward.
“Sunset! Are you alright?” I heard my voice say.
“Meow”
That… was not right. Sunset never meowed.
Suddenly the glowing thing fluttered. She stopped shaking and looked at me and fluttered the glowing thing.
Wait… it was a pair of wings.
I couldn't believe my eyes.
Beautiful, gold, shimmery wings. Sunset smiled at me and flapped her wings. She slowly rose off my bed and started swooping around. She was making quite a racket.
“Sunset, be quiet!”
“Meow”
She looked at me sadly before flying to my open window and soaring away. I rushed out of bed and tried to grab her back, but she was off.
“Meow!”
I somehow knew that she said, “I'm coming back.”
I watched the glow of her wings as she flew away. Soon they were nothing but a small dot in the sky. I climbed back into bed and started sobbing.

I woke up dazed. Was that… a bad dream? But as I climbed out of bed, I heard, “Indigo, where's Sunset? Have you seen her?”
“No…” I replied.
“If you see her, please tell me!”
I walked over to my mirror and looked at my tear-stained cheek. Somehow, I didn't feel like crying anymore. I knew Sunset was gone.
But one day, I knew she would come back. For now, she was out in the world with her new wings, hopefully flying along with other winged cats.

The end.

Hestia ran, her legs almost invisible from how fast she was going. Sweat beaded down her forehead, breathing fast, she couldn’t stop though, not yet. She rounded the street corner and into someone’s house, practically busting down the door, she yelled a quick greeting and bolted up the stairs. She grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.

“AERIS! Are you okay? What happened? What should I-,” She paused, looking slowly across the room and then the ground. Aeris, her best friend, was on the ground, snot nosed, red and giggling like a child. “What the heck is this!” she screamed.

“Hestiaaaaaa, you’re finally here! I think I can finally leave this world satisfied,” Aeris said dazedly, then he jumped up, wrapping his arms around Hestia causing them both to tumble to the ground. After a few seconds, that felt like years of yelling and trying to push him off she finally surrendered. She took a deep breath and felt his forehead, he was burning up.

“Hestia, I’m cold. Am I dying?”

“Get off me and maybe I can get you a blanket! Or do you want me to knock you cold?” Aeris groaned rolling off of her and under his bed. He’s usually air headed and kind of stupid, but how does a cold make him act like this? Hestia looked around his room for a blanket, but for some reason, it was nowhere to be seen. She stared at Aeris, under his bed like he was looking for monsters, and groaned. When he said he needed help, I never thought it’d be this, she thought. She took a step outside the bedroom and said, “I’m going to ask your mom for a blanket, I’ll be back!”

“WAIT NOOOOO! Don’t leave meeeee, mom isn’t here, I don’t wanna be alone!” Aeris whined. She froze, somehow he teleported right behind Hestia, grabbing her by the ankles. She kicked his hands off and turned around, looking down at him. Then she walked over to his bed and sat down, hoping she wasn’t going to catch the flu because of this. “Yay,” he slurred excitedly, getting on his bed, squeezing Hestia in the process. She hoped Aeris couldn’t see how red she was.

“So why didn’t you call Atlas? You scared the * out of me! He lives way closer, plus you’re kinda childhood friends!” She said, struggling to get out words as her face was squished against the bed and Aeris’s chest.

“I did and he was being so mean! He said something like, ‘Like hell I’m dealing with that again! Call up Hestia or something,’ So I did, he was probably on a date with Nori, that traitor, I’m happy I called you though,” he said, holding her tighter. Hestia did agree with him on something though, Atlas, that traitor why me of all people? Aeris shivered against her, quickly turning his head to sneeze. Hestia pushed him off with a lot more effort and whining than she wanted. Earlier, she noticed chicken noodle soup on his bedside table with traces of steam still coming from it.

“If you won’t let me get blankets, at least eat the soup, I don’t think anyone wants to deal with you sick.” She said, picking it up and stirring it before holding it out to him. He turned away, pouting.

“I don’t wanna! It tastes bad,” He said, before breaking into a fit of coughs. She tried several more times, but no matter how many times she debated, argued and threatened he wouldn’t even touch the bowl. Hestia did everything but beg, she wasn't going to beg. An idea popped into her mind, she immediately tried to swat it away. She wasn’t going to. She’ll just leave, just leave, just leave.


She sighed and pulled up a chair, sitting next to the bed. Hestia scooped a spoonful of soup. “Hey, Aeris, look at me,” He turned over to her, about to ask a dumb question, she shoved the spoon in his mouth.

He swallowed, sputtering and coughing from the sudden action. His face became red, even more than before, must be from his flu, Hestia thought. “Are you going to have the rest or do I have to shove this all down your throat?” she said finally, he just nodded, most silent he’s been since she arrived. So she kept feeding him, both of them too embarrassed to speak. After a few days, the flu was completely gone

Neither Aeris nor Hestia spoke of the incident afterwards.

Daily 2/7/2022

*this does not make sense at all cries in pain


“Will the main character die?” 8-ball: “Yes definitely”

People say that I’m too kind.
Sometimes, it’s meant as a compliment.
Sometimes, it’s meant as an insult.
I remember when I was younger, I would always try to stretch out a helping hand. Animals, children, adults, they all come to me soon after to ask me for help. Whether it’s giving a hand in carrying their grandparents’ heavy bags or asking for advice in their homework, I was the perfect role model for asking.
I remember when I grew older, my parents became more and more concern about my being. They said that being kind wasn’t a bad thing, but I was certainly taking that to another level. I was quiet, but always willing. I never seemed to see the bad side in anyone even if they hurt me, mentally or physically, I would always forgive them and move on. Start thinking about your own safety and your own feelings, they had said, please stop being so naïve and so oblivious.
And I remember the time when their eyes grew dull, their scream had echoed in the air like a battle cry. Arms stretched open to protect me, to shelter from the monster that had committed such a crime. Now that I thought about it, their scream was not one that contained fear, but one that carried bravery and defiance to defend, to object.
At that time I knew that my parents were gone, and I would never see them ever again.
We would never laugh or play in swathes of grass and run in meadows of flowers.
But I still forgave the monster, the person who did it.
‘But why,’ I had questioned myself, ‘why does my heart hurt?’
Now as the scene flashes before my eyes, a sword ready to hurt the person I was meant to hunt down, I knew what to do.
Rolling over, I flung my arms wide in front of the murderer and waited for the blow.
And it came.
And it hurt.
So bad.
So badly.
I screamed out, the same sound that my parents made rung inside my ears, my face contracted with pain as I clutched my stomach, the warm blood running through my fingers and the metallic smell reeking the air. I heard a choked gasp behind me, and I closed my eyes as I let the pain eat me away inside.
The person I was meant to arrest was just a seventeen year old boy, but a powerful villain that had destroyed cities and towns under the wrath of his father, the person who I had just protected. I stared into the very eyes of the killer who took away my parents’ life and the person who had tried stabbing his own son, the icy blue color was like the coldest frost in winter. There was no pity, no horror at what he has done, just plain surprise and amusement.
I crumpled onto the ground, breaking away eye contact as I fell. Hands caught me from behind, clasping me as they shook. My head was placed onto the boy’s lap as his eyes glistened.
“Why?” He whispered.
I could feel his hurt, and the pain in his eyes was clear as glass. I wanted to wipe them away, comfort him, but even lifting my hand was painful for me, pricking my skin and searing my wound like a blazing fire.
“You’re good,” I whispered softly, my voice trembling. “And you will be.”
“What do you mean?” He said, tears pricking at the edge of his eyes as he stared at me with horror and hurt. I smiled, hoping that it can bring him comfort.
“Everyone has a good side,” I breathed out, “and I hope that you do too.”
He held my hand tightly, and I could feel his heavy breathing. One, two, three. I breathed in, and breathed out. One, two, three.
My vision was already starting to darken, but I still struggled to keep my consciousness, wanting to say more.
“I believe,” I choked out, “that you have what it takes to defy your father, and what it takes to protect instead of hurt. So please, prove to me that I made the right choice.”
The boy trembled more, tears falling from his eyes like small drops of pearls. I never liked seeing people cry, but now I could understand why. It’s normal and natural to be hurt, and to feel guilt. I could never have prevented everyone from feeling unhappy, and I could never help everyone with such little power I have.
But this boy can.
And I hope that he will.
Footsteps drummed the ground, and I heard my team yelling out my name, the click of chains as the boy’s father was arrested, a manic laugh as he was lead away. My friend knelt beside me, ignoring the boy who I had protected.
“Why?” She asked.
I looked at her, to see tears falling from her eyes as well. “Give him a chance,” I breathed out.
‘Kindness will be the death of you,’ my parents had yelled with tears in their eyes.
“I suppose it is,” I said.



(855 words)

uhhh daily #2 ig:
//Info: I asked the magic 8 ball “will i sleep tonight” and it said “very doubtful” so that's my prompt :')//
//word number: _ _ _ _//

I pushed back my covers and climbed into bed. I knew I wouldn't be sleeping for long, so I didn't bother taking off my slippers. My siblings said a brief goodnight to each other, which I returned. I waited for around 20 minutes, when my Mother walked in to check we were sleeping before going to bed herself. The sound of her leaving the room and walking upstairs echoed through the house. I waited another moment for her to close her bedroom door, then silently tip-toed out of bed and slipped through the unlocked front door. The deep snow glowed under the moonlight, and it felt cold as it seeped through my thin nightgown. //UNFINISHED//

july 15th main cabin daily, 532 words
“Giving away a globe puzzle that might be lacking some pieces”

Thunk.
The old, worn down puzzle box hit the table as the girl placed it down. It sounded extremely heavy, and the old paint was peeling off of the box and as a result there was no title or anything to signify what was inside.
The girl took a deep breath and began to open it.
“Wait.” Another voice said, rather urgently.
She jumped slightly but then sighed in relief when she recognized the other girl’s face.
“God that scared me. What are you even doing here?”
“Looking for you. What are you doing here?”
 “I think I’ve found the answer. The answer to everything. Everything we’ve been searching for. We might… we might be able to save everyone.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not. I read a note, dated 1944. This puzzle, once solved, will tell us everything.”
“How do you know it was really dated 1944? Someone could have tricked us.”
The girl paused for a moment, considering this possibility.
“I don’t. But at this point, we might as well try.”
The other girl also paused for a moment. Did they truly have time to divert from their original plans to solve some… puzzle? But the first girl was right. With how their other plans had been going, trying something new would not hurt.
“Fine. Let’s open it, then.”
The first girl lifted the lid off and her eyes widened at the contents.
What must have been thousands of puzzle pieces decorated the inside of the box. Both of them couldn’t quite tell what was on each one as they were all so small.
Without speaking they both silently began to try to solve the puzzle. They were doing this very quickly because there was an unspoken mutual agreement that they were running out of time. Neither of them knew how long they had. It could be a few days. Maybe a few hours. But they knew they needed to act quickly.
The pieces started to form together and soon it was clear that it was some sort of map.
A few hundred more pieces revealed that it was a map of the world.
They had half of Australia. Mexico. Part of Asia.
They continued putting the puzzle together until there were only three pieces left.
But there were four open spots.
The two girls stood there, not knowing what to do.
“No way we just spent three very precious hours doing this puzzle for it to be incomplete.” The second girl said in disbelief and anger.
“No, no, wait… look at the arrows.”
“Arrows?”
The first girl nodded, placing the other three pieces into place.
There was one missing spot in Europe. Both of the girls knew that it was where Castres, France was supposed to be, as they had both traveled there on occasion before the world had begun to end.
Sure enough, when the second girl squinted she could see four very thin, very small arrows pointing to the missing piece.
Then it clicked. That was the missing piece.
“We need to go to Castres-“ The first girl began to say when suddenly the ground began to shake vigorously.
The second girl shook her head.
“We’re too late.”




July 2nd Daily
magic 8 ball prompt “has my entire life been a dream?” “reply hazy, try again” 440 words

My shoes are slapping against the pavement as I race through the neighborhood. Something was chasing me but I couldn’t quite remember what- only that I needed to run, and I needed to run fast. However, my legs were not exactly cooperating. It seemed as if I were running in place, even though I was desperately trying to run in at least somewhat of a forward direction.
Finally, my legs somehow started working with my brain again and I stumbled through a rough patch of thorn bushes, finally sprawling onto the ground after running for what seemed like years. My arms and legs were now scraped, but oddly enough I did not feel anything. I lie on the rough rocks for quite some time… wait, that’s strange. I remember falling onto grass, not rocks. Huh. I frowned, but brushed it off, standing up in the middle of the… classroom? What? I could have sworn I was outside, not inside a school… my head was spinning and I felt like I was losing my mind. Oh, but the teacher was asking me a question, something about square roots, about pi… I answer correctly and she nods. Then it’s time for lunch. I am faintly aware that we are not walking into a lunchroom but instead we are walking into a chocolate fountain. I could tell that something was not right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. So I stepped into the chocolate fountain. And got absolutely drenched in strawberry syrup.
At this point, I knew something very very wrong. You don’t just step into a huge chocolate fountain and get strawberry syrup-covered. But thinking back, as long as I could remember, this was what had been happening to me, all my life. Just strange things, happening over and over again, warping into other weird things. I couldn’t remember a time when these events had not occurred.
I tried to think back even further. When was I born? I didn’t know. How old was I? I thought for awhile, and counted a few times but kept counting the numbers out of order. I glanced down at my hands to perhaps use my fingers to keep my place as I counted, but when I looked down I noticed I only had three fingers on my left hand and fourteen on my right. I felt hopelessly lost and like someone had trapped me in some sort of simulation. Or… a dream. Yes, a dream, that felt right… had my entire life been a dream?
Suddenly, I forgot my entire train of thought and was once again running from the monster.

Daily for June 2


Analise turned around to find herself in another place, possibly another world. It wasn’t a place she recognized— but then again, almost every place she went had a lot of stuffed animals, plushies, food, blankets, stuff like that, so what were the chances of her knowing that she was in her own house? But this definitely wasn’t her house, because when she wasn’t in school, she was always there. Plus, her house definitely did NOT have a lot of trees that were three times her size. The ground was covered with leaves, making it impossible to walk.

She sighed.

Was she in one of those escape rooms? Were you supposed to just wait for people to rescue you? Were you supposed to search every spot to see if there was a door or lock? Then where was the key? Was she really supposed to be just wondering to herself how to escape?

In short, Analise.Did. Not. Know. A. Thing. About. The. Place.

Analise wanted popcorn. It helped her rant. And currently, she wanted to rant, because who wouldn’t?

She did not want to be stuck there forever. She dug out a piece of bread. It may have been up to date, not expired, but to her, it was sour, stale possibly.

“WHY IN THE WORLD—,”

She heaved a breath.

“Why in the world am I here? Why not someone else? There’s more than 700 billion people in the world, and out of that, me? Why? I don’t think I did anything to deserve this. I’m innocent. If you want another person to prey on, I’m not the right person! Maybe I look like the person you want revenge on, but I don’t have anything to do with it! If one of my family members did something to anger or disappoint you, and you hold me as hostage to make them regret what they did, please just let me go! I’ll do almost anything! I’ll hide and you can pretend I escaped, or I fainted or something! Hello? Hello? HELLO? Let me go before I go crazy! PLEASE! I’m counting to ten and if you don’t let me go before I count to 1, then I’m going to go crazy. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. I AM OFFICIALLY CRAZY! CRAZY! NOW WHERE ARE MY MANGOES? MY MANGOES! MY MANGOES! WHERE ARE MY MANGOES? I HAVE NOT HAD MY MANGOES IN TWO DAYS! I CANNOT SURVIVE WITHOUT MANGOES!”

“Huh.”


Analise turned around.

“Uh, hi?”

“Is my character haunted by a ghost?” “Without a doubt.”

When I was younger, about 6 years old, I thought that I just had an imaginary friend. I was very content with this until I was around 10. That was when I woke up in the parking lot of a Walmart at almost 2:00 a.m. and saw my “imaginary friend” float out of my body and start laughing.

“Wasn't that just amazing?!”, it exclaimed.

And, no, it was not amazing, it was actually a very traumatic memory of mine which resulted in 40 hours of community service and the revelation that this wasn't a friend.

It was a ghost.

Today, I turn 17 years old and the ghost gets to possess me until midnight. It turns out that making a bet with a ghost that can almost do anything isn't a smart move. I relinquish my body to the mischievous spirit and fall into the depths of my mind. The specter chuckles. “Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? About 7 years, I think. Are you ready?”, it teases. Yeah, you've been bugging me for the past 7 years to make up for it though, I think. I scoff and decide to take a nap inside my mindscape, hoping nothing bad will happen.

I wake up back in my body, in my bed, at midnight, just as planned. But it's calm, too calm. “What did you do?”, I
whisper-speak angrily. Sadly, I'm not prepared for the answer.

“Kay, uh, don't be mad, but you have a girlfriend now,” the apparition replies.

“W-what? Why would you-oh my god, it better not be Mi-”

“It's Mica and I've been shipping you two this whole time so pretty please don't break up with her,” the ghost blurts with an uncharacteristic hint of nervousness.

“What the heck?! Wait, this is actually great. I'm dating my crush! I can't believe I'm saying this, but thanks,” I sigh.

The ghost smiles (wholesomely?) and dissolves. I slightly hope that it's gone forever but you never know when it comes to the paranormal. I look around my room one last time before I fall asleep. There's books scattered across the floor and two of the drawers of my dresser are open and emptied, their contents probably somewhere hidden in my room. These are remnants of the adventure that will change my life." Unfortunately, I couldn't partake in it.

Daily 2 - Magic 8 Ball

Question: “Will there be an ice age?” (based off a writing prompt from another website)
Answer: You may rely on it

487 words

Note: I didn’t get to finish this, so the ice age part didn’t really come into it, but basically the water people win (which was decided by the 8 ball)


The sea was calm tonight.
From Anneke’s vantage point on the cliff, she had a perfect view of the currents swirling beneath the water’s surface, a spiralled blue-green mosaic. Hundreds of different hues danced on the tips of each wave, each wave blending together to form a perfect tide, ebbing and flowing and rippling and circling, and finally coming in to rest, lapping the shore of the small bay she called home. The beautiful scene was almost perfect. Almost.
Soon, she knew, it would be different. Soon her father’s huge warships would be sailing in by the hundreds, stirring the tranquil water until it looked as if the ocean itself was foaming at the mouth, whirling and surging and seething and churning until everything crowded into the too-small bay that was Anneke's home.
Then the fighting would start, red spilled on sand in a white-hot rush, swirling tendrils through stained water, the battlefield ebbing and flowing and seething and churning until there was no blood left to bleed and no tears left to cry and what was left of the survivors would stumble onto the beach Anneke didn’t want them to call home. And people would kill and people would die, and it wouldn’t really be worth it in the end, because it would only cause more killing and more crying and more red, red, red, seeping into the sea like billowing flames.
But Anneke’s father thought this would be important. And Anneke had learned not to argue with her father. So she did not.



The volcano was active tonight.
Piren could see the warm glow of heat pulse beneath the rocks he stood on, could feel it tingle up the soles of his feet. The lava was bubbling underneath all that rock, boiling and stewing and steaming and gurgling. And although he knew it would give his mother’s warriors, arriving by the hundreds in their balloons and airships, a major advantage in the battle tonight, he still couldn’t help thinking about all this fiery energy, scorching and searing and blazing and blistering, being released in a white-hot rush on the cliff, the red running and dripping and falling all the way to the beach. And people would kill and people would die, and it wouldn’t really be worth it in the end, because it would just keep on going, an endless cycle of revenge, of killing and crying and winning and dying. And what did it matter anyway? The Scorchlands were just a barren wasteland. The Wavelands were just a wide expanse of ocean. Why keep fighting over them? It’s not like the Scorchers could live in the Wavelands, where there was no fire. And the Wavers couldn’t live in Scorchlands, where there was no water. What was the point to all this war?
But Piren’s mother thought this would be important. And Piren had learned not to argue with his mother. So he did not.

July 2nd Daily
Crow Diorite, Immortal

I asked the magic eight ball “Will the main character give up their immortality” and got “You may rely on it.”
Word Count: 1,514
I know the character development/relationships may seem rushed. Please note there are events that take place between some of the scenes, which is why.
☆⌒★⌒☆
Prologue
A figure stands at the top of a hill, looking down at the valley below where a small, far from prosperous town sits, almost hidden from the rest of the world. And essentially so, for the inhabitants of this place have proven they have no place with the rest of society. The figure scoffs, still staring at the town.
“How pathetic,” they mutter. “Those fools with their mortal lives. Tossing everything away for others. Can’t they see the most valuable thing they have are their own lives?”
“To think, that I used to be one of them.” The figure shakes their head. “But never again. Mortals waste their short lives on others. But I… I’ll never die.”
A gust of wind blows blows through, ruffling the figure’s purple hair. The wind seems to echo that one word.
Never.

☆⌒★⌒☆

For all of Crow Diorite’s young life, she felt like an outcast. Which was saying something, considering her entire community was populated by society’s outcasts. Maybe that was why, though. With everyone around her holding a similar mindset, having a different one from them made her feel like no one would ever understand her.
Even among the few friends she’d managed to make, she never truly felt like she fit in. One wrong move, she’d think, the second you let them into your mind, or worse, your heart, they’ll leave you. Either that, or they’ll use you.
This mindset may have seemed baseless, but Crow had her reasoning. She could never let anyone see inside. Never let anyone know she wasn’t like them.
Not being like everyone else was what got her community into this situation, who’s to say it couldn’t happen to her?
What situation was that, you might ask? Well, as mentioned above, everyone in the town of Crossing was outcasted for having opinions that differed from the norm. They were considered dangerous, and in turn, life was dangerous for them.
Crow had grown up watching citizen after citizen give everything they had to keep their town safe. Their homes, their possessions, their lives.
Death became her worst fear.

☆⌒★⌒☆

“I don’t think I even know who you are,” a teenage girl said, staring at another girl, looking appalled. It was obvious they were in the middle of a fight.
The other girl took an involuntary step back, as if she’d been slapped. Then her face hardened. “Maybe you don’t. Maybe you were wrong about me. And maybe I was wrong about you.”
Then, before the first girl could say anything, and more importantly, before the hurt, angry tears could spill from her eyes, the girl spun on her heal and stalked away.
The girl -who, as you may have guessed, was Crow- kept her head held high until she made it to a secluded alley. Then, and only then, did she allow herself to collapse, tears burning her eyes against her will.
That fight was quite possibly the worst one she’d ever had. And it could only mean one thing.
Her last friend. The one she thought would be forever.
Gone.
“So what?” Crow muttered, allowing her lingering anger to bury her hurt. “Who needs others anyway?”
“You don’t.”
“Who the heck-“ She jerked her head up. Her face immediately started burning red, mortified someone had found her in such a state.
In front of her stood an elegant woman with pearlescent blonde hair and a flowing, almost ethereal dress. She certainly wasn’t from around here.
Crow’s face reddened further as she rushed to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes.
“Don’t worry, child,” The women said. “I’m not here to make fun of you. I’m only confirming, you don’t need anyone else.”
“What do you want?” Crow snapped, knowing better. No one around here ever talked to anyone unless they needed something. Woman like this definitely didn’t talk to girls like her.
The woman chuckled. “Cutting straight to the point, are we? Very well. I’m offering you a unique opportunity. For one who feels like they don’t need anyone but themself, and fears death above all else, there’s only one logical solution.”
Crow stared, uneasy. How did this woman know so much about her fears?
“And what’s that?”
“Why, becoming immortal, of course.”
The girl scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? That’s impossible.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” The woman asked. Crow looked her up and down. Indeed, she didn’t look like a mere mortal. But…
“Are you saying I can become immortal?”
“I am. And I’m willing to it. I can give you freedom from everything, but there will be consequences-“
Crow didn’t even let her finish. “Do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”

☆⌒★⌒☆

It has been five years since Crow accepted immortality from the ethereal woman she met in the alley. Five years spent in almost complete solitude. This was partly because, of course, Crow felt like the only person she needed was herself. But it was also because she feared becoming mortal once more.
She ran a few fingers through her short, choppy purple hair, using her hand as a makeshift brush. She glanced at the cracked mirror hanging on her wall, her eyes -which had been a shimmering mother-of-pearl ever since she’d become immortal- almost seemed to glow in this light.
Her mind wondered, landing on the warning the woman gave her after she’d granted her immortality.
“I’m assuming you’ve heard the tales of true love’s first kiss ending a fateful curse?” The woman had asked.
“Of course,” Crow replied, nodding.
“Well, the same is true for this gift. True love’s kiss will return you back to mortality.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Maybe, but I am.”

☆⌒★⌒☆

“Who are you?” Crow demanded, glaring at the stranger who’d dared set foot on her doorstep.
“Erica. Erica Spinner.”
“Well, Erica, what brings you to my humble abode?” Crow looked the stranger up and down. She had wavy brown hair and was wearing bronze colored armor. To most people, she would have been a rather imposing figure. And kind of pretty, Crow supposed. But that was obviously irrelevant.
“Turns out there’s a traitor in Crossing,” Erica said, meeting Crow’s gaze. “And the loner living past the edge of town is obviously the biggest suspect.”
“That would be you,” she added, as if it weren’t obvious.

☆⌒★⌒☆

Thanks to the traitor -who was not Crow- Erica managed to drag the other girl back to town, presumably for questioning.
They arrived to find a the town in panic, apparently preparing for battle. Which could only mean one thing.
Invaders had found Crossing.
Darn that traitor.

☆⌒★⌒☆

Erica looked at Crow, eyes cold, battle raging all around them. “Stay here. I have to help.”
“But-“
“I said stay here! I’ll be back, I just have to-“
Someone bumped into them and they got pushed away before she could finish.

☆⌒★⌒☆

“Erica!?” Crow looked around frantically. Dust was flying through her eyes, burning her eyes and making it hard to see through the chaos. She began running, still yelling. “Where’s Erica? Has anyone seen Erica?”
“Young lady, stop! You can’t go over there!” A man shouted. “It’s too dangerous! You could be killed!”
Crow stopped and looked at him. If only he knew how untrue that was…
“I won’t be.” And then, before he could stop her, she ran in to the battle. She had to get Erica out of there. Could it be she’d found something harder to lose then her own immortality?

☆⌒★⌒☆

Somehow, Crossing won the battle, but many homes were destroyed in the process. One of which was Erica’s…
“What am I going to do?” Erica, normally so calm, seemed pretty stressed out. “My home is in ruins. I have no where to go.”
“You can stay with me. You know… until we find you somewhere else,” Crow surprised herself with this offer.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“I- thank you.” Erica offered a rare smile, and Crow returned it with an even rarer one of her own.

☆⌒★⌒☆

It had been about a week since Crow had allowed Erica to move in with her, and they’d settled into a comfortable routine. Now, they were sitting outside in contented silence as the setting sun washed the surroundings with a golden light. Erica was looking at Crow, an unreadable look on her face.
“What is it?”
“…Nothing.”
“Seriously?” Crow shook her head. “After all we’ve been through, and you won’t even tell me what’s up?”
“When you put it that way…” Erica took a deep breath. “I…I think I love you.”
Crow starred at Erica. She almost didn’t dare breath, as if doing even the smallest thing might break this spell. They were so close, Crow could have sworn she could have counted every lash framing the other girl’s eyes. Normally she would have hated such a lack of personal space, but she surprised herself by leaning closer.
If you go through with this, a voice in Crow’s head said. You’ll lose your immortality forever.
I know that, she thought. But I’ve found something even better.
And then she kissed Erica.