July 5th Daily (424 words): {severe cringe alert i had to make this rly quickly}

It was a sunny winter Sunday when my neighbor moved in. I was so excited to meet them! Finally, when my mom said they were done with most of the moving, she decided to let me see!
I rang the doorbell. Nothing happened. Then, a few seconds later, a man was standing on the doorway, staring straight at me.
“Hello! I’m your neighbor, Sam!” I greeted cheerfully. “It is nice to meet you!”
After a few seconds, the man said, “It’s nice to meet you too Sam. I’m Mr. Parth.”
I looked around their house from the front door when I saw a boy around my age.
“Is that your son?” I asked, gesturing to the boy.
“He indeed is. If you would like, I could tell him to come over and greet you but be sure to note that he is autistic.”
“Okay!”
“Travis!” Mr. Parth called. “I have someone you would like to meet!”
Travis walked a little wobbly to the door. “H-hi.” He said shyly.
“Hello!” I smiled warmly.
It was a bit quiet for a minute. Then, my mom called from my front yard, “Sam! We need to go to class soon!”
“I got to go,” I told Mr. Parth and jogged to my house.

The next day at school, I saw Travis with Mr. Parth. I smiled and tried to wave, but they didn’t notice.
During recess, I saw Travis again. This time, I walked over and said hi again. I made some conversation, and realized he was really funny. When the bell rang, I rushed back to my classroom and began boring class again.
The next few days, I chatted with Travis when I could. One day, my classmates wanted to talk about a group project a little bit, and after that, I went finding Travis.
Travis was walking, looking a little confused. An older group of kids in my class were murmuring something while looking at his direction.
I leaned in and tried to eave-drop on the conversation, and they were giggling.
“Look how weirdly he walks!” a girl laughed. The rest followed.
“Cut it out!” I yelled at them.
“Oh, Sam, the protecty-pants.” the same girl chuckled.
I was irritated but didn’t really know what to do. So, I just went over to Travis.
“Hey, sorry I was late.” I told him.
“Do you agree with those people?” He asked shakily.
“Of course not!” I replied.
He looked into my eyes. Then hugged me.
“Thank you.” Travis said.
I just smiled. He deserved a good friend.

『 ↳✧･ﾟdaily five ;
(updated to fix the link)
358 words

back to dailies
back to journal

“There can always be too much of a good thing.”
It was a usual school day, when one of our teachers had an announcement.
“There’s a virus going around, so everyone please remember to wash your hands a lot to stay healthy.” A virus? I hadn’t heard of this virus before. That same teacher kept making announcements and telling us to wash our hands. At first I thought that teacher was just being paranoid. Though I was proved wrong a week later, on a Friday. We were all told we would be sent home for two weeks until the virus clears up. Woohoo! Two weeks of no school. It was like an earlier summer break! Before we left that Friday, I had this strange feeling I wouldn’t be seeing my desk in a while. So I took everything out of my desk and took it home..

I was right. I hadn’t gone to school in months. At first the idea of missing school had been seemed fun, but it had been so long since I had seen my friends and my teachers. We had just started using Zoom for online classes. The teachers and the students were struggling with how to use Zoom, and I had five different zoom classes every day. The schedule was very messy and chaotic, with some teachers changing the zoom link to their classes without any warning. Some teachers randomly decided to be in a different teacher’s zoom class, for whatever reason. I had a suspicion that quarantine had become so boring that they were trying to make the students confused.

It’s almost been a year, and I’m so tired of not seeing my friends. They all have their cameras off now and barely talk, unless they’re using the Zoom chat or they are answering a question from the teacher. A lot of kids were using the excuse “sorry, I didn’t hear what you said, my computer is lagging”, or something of the sort, when they hadn’t been paying attention and they had been called on. A lot of students opened separate tabs and played video games, watched videos, or did anything they want. I can’t claim I didn’t do that too, though.

･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･ july 5th daily ･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･

☆ 514 words || 700 points ☆

|| “ all good things must come to an end. ”

I sighed contentedly as I leaned against the branch of the great oak tree. Skylar and I had been there for hours, laughing and eating mini sandwiches I had made.

I gazed at Skylar. She held a ladybug on her finger, her dark curls bouncing as she giggled. “Alisha! It’s so cute!” She waved her finger at me, smirking as I instinctively backed away.

“Sky!!” I screamed, laughing, as she started following me around. “Leave that bug alone!”

Skylar watched as the ladybug flew away, nudging me with her elbow. “You’re just scared,” she teased. She was right, of course. I’d always had a strange fear of bugs.

Changing the subject, I rolled onto the grass, staring at the sunset. “Look at how pretty. Like you, Sky.”

Skylar snickered. “Alisha, you’re too cheesy!” She paused. “But you’re pretty like the sunset, too..”

…


My phone began to ring. Skylar’s favorite song. I hold the phone up to my ear. “Sky?”

Skylar’s voice sounded different somehow. “Alisha.. can you meet me? Right now? At the park, maybe?”

“O-okay, I’ll be there,” I stammer, surprised. We usually never made plans to meet on such a whim.. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door, pulling on my coat as I walked.


I ran to the park, breathing heavily as I looked around for Skylar. I spotted her by a bench. She looked oddly subdued. She spotted me and waved dully. Her eyes didn’t seem to shine.

I rushed to her, my breath visible in the cold October air. “Skylar! What- what’s going on?” My stomach turned as I saw the tears in her eyes.

“Ali-Alisha-” She sniffled, and I immediately put my arms around her. Skylar shudders, then hesitantly pulled away from my embrace.

“I’m.. I’m getting engaged.” The words seemed to be coming at me from miles away, and I looked at her, stunned, as she continued. “My parents set me up. I’m moving away, my flight is this afternoon, I’m so sorry..” My brain blocked out her words. I fell onto the park bench, my head landing in my hands.

“Sky..” I was too speechless to continue. Skylar’s hand interlocked with mine, and I gazed up, my vision suddenly blurry, as Skylar pulled me close.

“You- you can’t leave! What about your studies? What about me?”

“My marriage will be beneficial to both our families..” Skylar snarked angrily. My heart broke for her.

I wiped my face and held hers in my hands. I had to be strong for her. “Skylar.. don’t forget me, okay?”

“I- I’ll always remember you, Alisha,” she sighed. I held her for a few moments more, then she checked her watch.

“I have to go, my flight leaves soon..” She fidgeted with her thumbs, and I gave her one last hug. She smiled at me before leaving me alone in the park. I fell to my knees, memories flooding my mind.

After a few minutes I stood up, wiped my face, and walked slowly back home. She would always be with me, in my memories of her.

Daily 7/5

”A watched pot never boils.”

30 years ago

Ben stared into the pot. His own face gazed back up at him, reflected on the water’s still surface. “I’m supposed to watch this?”

The old man nodded solemnly. “You are the pot’s chosen protector. For the next five decades, your duty is to stand guard over the water inside until it has begun to boil. You may not under any circumstances neglect this task.” He fixed Ben with a grave stare.

Ben swallowed. “Surely it won’t take fifty years for the water to boil.”

The old man sighed. “There was a time when I thought that as well. I am wiser than that now.” He shook his head. “The prophecy foretold that one day a guardian would come for whom the pot would boil. Maybe that guardian will be you. It wasn’t me, evidently. Either way, to have been selected as a protector is a great honor. A great honor.”

Ben turned away from the pot. “It seems like a boring life. And a lonely one, sitting by yourself in this cave with no one but a pot for company.”

“Perhaps,” the old man said wearily. “It has been a long time since I saw the outside world. I had forgotten what it was like to talk with another. Still, once your fifty years of service are done, you are free to leave. Your successor will take over the watch.”

“Or until the water boils.”

“I suppose.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Do you think I am the guardian for whom the water will boil?”

“Who can tell, child? Who can tell?”

————

Ben leaned against the pot, eyes closed. Thirty years had passed since the day he had taken on the role of the protector, and the water inside had not even begun to simmer. Thirty years. That was enough time to know the answer to the question he had asked so long ago. ”Do you think I am the protector for whom the water will boil?” If he truly was the prophecy’s chosen guardian, he would not be here anymore. The water would have begun to boil a long time ago, he was certain of it.

He sighed and rose to his feet, gathering an armful of firewood from the stash kept just outside the cave. The fire beneath the pot must never go out, his predecessor had warned him. Otherwise the water wouldn’t even have a chance to boil. Ben shoved the logs beneath the pot, then stood back as the flames rose greedily to consume this new offering. Twenty more years, he thought wearily. Twenty more years, and I can go free. How could one feel so ancient, and yet barely have lived at all?

“Why do I do this?” Ben asked aloud, running a hand down the pot’s iron sides. It didn’t even feel warm, though after so many years above a fire the metal should be scalding hot. “Why do I stand here in this cave, watching you and begging you to boil? Why am I wasting my life waiting for something that will never happen?”

Why did he do this?

Ben stiffened, struck by the questions this simple thought raised. He was standing here because an old man had told him to. Because the village leaders had told him to. Because some prophecy long ago had commanded generations of protectors to devote their lives to some useless pot, waiting for the impossible to happen.

Why should he have to listen to any of them?

Slowly, he backed away from the pot. “I’m going to go outside,” he whispered. “I’m going to go outside, and it’ll be for a long time. Maybe for an hour. Maybe three. Maybe I won’t come back for days.” His heart raced at the mere implications of what he was saying. For the first time in thirty years, he would be leaving this cave. Not to gather food and water. Not to snatch five minutes of fresh air. But to forget this pot and all the time he had wasted on it. To live.

He let out a whoop of joy and turned his back on the pot, rushing out into the open air. For the first time in thirty years, he was free.

He came back hours later, twigs in his hair and a grin on his face. That had been the best afternoon of his life. He had swum in the forest stream, climbed a tree just to admire the view, taken a peek at the village from the safety of a scrub bush. He even -

Ben froze, staring. He couldn’t believe it. No. He was dreaming, he was seeing things, he had to, the pot, the water, the water was -

Boiling.

Word count: 786

Date: July 5th
Points: 400
Main Cabin Daily
Word Count: 342
Prompt:
Proverbs 17:14
To start a conflict is to release a flood, so stop the dispute before it breaks out.

For the record, I’d like to point out that this was not my idea. Trekking through a deadly tundra doesn’t seem all that fun, but my queen demanded it.
I made my way through the brush with my fellows. Grung, Slakvia and Loran.
Loran complained, “It’s cold.”
I rolled my eyes. “Put on your fur, then.”
Loran huffed. “It’s in my pack.”
Slakvia grumbled from behind him. “Stop being lazy and grab it. It isn’t that hard to multitask.”
Grung grunted. “Yeah Loran. You can open a bag as well as you can swing a sword, we should hope.”
Loran mumbled, “Gosh, harsh much?”
I said, “Quite harsh, like the weather. All the more reasons to grab your Odin-forsaken fur!” Snow flew in my mouth after I said that.
Loran didn’t say anything else and I could hear him ruffling through his pack.
Good, he wouldn’t freeze to death.

“We go North!” Loran shouted, though I could barely hear him over the wind.
“Nah, we go east! The tribe is that way!” Slakvia pointed somewhere in the distance. Definitely not east.
“Grung, tell her that she’s wrong!” Loran whined.
“We go North.” He muttered. “Northwest.”
Loran cheered, and he trailed right behind Grung, who had started walking Northwest.

“That meeting was horrendous.” I said as we exited the tent.
Slakvia muttered, “No wonder.” As she gave a nasty look towards Loran.
Loran put his hands up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that being called a Norn was an insult!”
“You still messed up.” Slakvia hissed. “Now they’ll want to attack our nation. Take our children, kill our men and women. All because of you!” She drew her sword and pointed it at him. “I say we kill him and call him a spy from another enemy faction. Save face.”
Loran’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “No, no, no, no, no, no. No! I’m more valuable-“
“Dead!” Slakvia interjected.
Before Loran could say anything in his defense, the ground rumbled. The frozen lake we stood upon shook.
And the ice cracked.

daily 7/5/22 - 636 words

a watched pot never boils

“Now, to further in your studies of magic, you will be receiving your next task,” announced Teacher Mary. I leaned forward excitedly in my seat, wondering what the next task would be. I was practically dy1ng to become a professional magician, but first I had to complete all the tasks and earn my certificate of a good magician. Naturally, I tried to complete everything as fast as possible, which is why I'm the youngest one in my class - a twelve-year-old among eighteen-year-olds, in the class right before graduation. I could feel the nervous energy in the room as everyone wondered whether the task would be easy or hard. Last time we had ended up in a rainstorm in the woods for a month with no supplies. Unsurprisingly enough, that was everyone's least favourite task. “Just get to it already,” someone called from the back of the room. I glanced back nervously, knowing that speaking like that to a teacher was an offense that could get somebody sent back a grade. I'd seen it before. Multiple times. Teacher Mary was one of the nicer ones though, so I supposed we'd see what she did. She simply gave a stern glare at the student and said harshly, “Next time, keep your thoughts to yourself.” After that had been sorted out, she prepared herself to speak and I could almost feel the collective inhale as everyone readied themselves for the task. Instead of saying what it was though, she simply stood. “Follow me,” she instructed us, and all eighteen of us wandered out of the room behind her, unsure of where we were going. She finally stopped before a door that led into a dark room. “Now don't all go at once!” she cried sarcastically. Reluctantly, the people at the front of the line began to enter. I filed in after them, unsure of what we were doing here. Hopefully it would be a good task, or at least something easy enough. She led us each to our own cauldron. “Oooh, are we doing potions?” someone else asked excitedly, but Teacher Mary simply silenced them with a wave of her hand. “Now, if there are no more,” she paused for effect, “questions, then I'll begin explaining your task. Nobody? Good. Now, you all will have to watch these cauldrons, and get them to boil in any way you can. Understood?” Groans escaped the mouths of a few unlucky students. “I /said/, understood?” she repeated, “Good. Now I'll leave you all to it.” I watched as the students around me immediately rushed to their stations, trying all sorts of incantations to get their pots to boil. Something was nagging at the corners of my mind though, something I'd heard of ages ago. What was it though? Then I remembered the words of my mother, and all of her stories. A watched pot never boils. An interesting theory. I looked around at everyone's unsuccessful attempts, debating whether or not I wanted to take my chances. What's life without a little risk, though? I simply turned on the stove and left my cauldron to work its magic, observing everyone else's unique methods to solving the challenge. Soon enough, my cauldron began to bubble and froth. I knew it. Other students slowly caught sight of my cauldron, and I chuckled as they gawked and gaped at my completed challenge. Finally, Teacher Mary burst through the doors. She inspected everyone's cauldrons, then paused when she passed mine. “Good job. The task is over, and this student here was the only one who passed it. This was a lesson designed to teach patience, that sometimes the best thing to do is nothing, even if it may not seem like it. As this student clearly discovered, a watched pot never boils.”

Proverb: Ignorance is bliss

“Good morning everyone!” Lilith sang, jumping out of her sleeping bag. She found her box of matches and lit the lantern at her side, illuminating the entire room. She tiptoed around the others on the ground, careful not to trip over anybody. It was only a short way to the pantry, their temporary living space wasn’t that big, but it was fine. Everything is fine.

Lilith opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. Only one can of soup left. No one else would mind if I took it, right? Blake should be back with more food soon. She thought to herself while taking the soup can. She looked around for a can opener and cracked open, sitting in the far corner of the room. Lilith didn’t want anybody to see her eat it, she knew no one would mind but she still felt guilty about it. She ate the soup straight out of the can, Lilith hated the taste but Bela seemed to enjoy it and there weren’t many options nearby.

She threw it in the trash can that was almost overflowing. Nobody likes taking out the trash so they refuse to do it. No one has cracked yet, despite it taking up quite a bit of room, Lilith wasn’t going to be the first. Nobody had gotten up so she decided to try to draw. Lilith wasn’t the best, not even close but Rue was an amazing artist and always encouraged her to keep trying and Lilith was getting better, or at least now the others could tell what she was drawing, sometimes.

Lilith grabbed Rue’s sketchbook, a pencil and her own piece of paper. It was crumpled, a bit stained and had words on the back but she didn’t feel like looking for something else and even though Rue said it was fine, she would never draw in Rue’s sketchbook. She flipped to a random illustration and began trying to copy it. Lilith broke them into shapes, used her own body as a reference and tried to remember everything she was taught and it did come out decently. When she tried to draw from her own imagination it looked like a mess.

“I give up!” She groaned, slamming the pencil down, “I wonder where Blake left his cards?” Blake had taught her a few card games and he was really good at them. Every now and then Lilith would win a round but she knew it was only because he let her. I bet he’d love to play some games when he comes back. She thought and looked around for the deck. Careful not to step on anyone, she walked around the small space. She found Cain clutching the deck in his hands, he must’ve been practicing magic again, she thought, gently removing his fingers and taking the deck from him. Then she walked back to the far corner and set the cards down, shuffling them and arranging them the way Blake had taught her. Then she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Lilith yawned and decided to take a nap. Blake would wake her up when he came back so they could play together. She tiptoed towards her sleeping bag and put out the lantern, the light was probably a disturbance anyway. She tucked herself into bed and closed her eyes, “Goodnight everybody,” Lilith said sleepily, trying to ignore the rotting smell that was getting worse by the day. Trying to forget about the crimson pools Bela, Rue and Cain were lying in, still not yet dry.

daily 5 - proverbs
321 words


The world was dying. Anyone could tell that. Red and yellow eyes lurking within the rubble of fallen buildings, fires burning against the dark abyss, people scattered and forced to flee… nobody tried to do much, for what could they do? Things had simply fallen too far. The stakes were too high.
So people simply waited, living at the fringes of the world, in constant hiding, fear, and anger. Filled with rage at what their world had become, but too weak to do anything to change it. The sadness, anger, and desperation bubbling up inside everyone with no way to escape. Until for one, it finally burst.
Or maybe it just left. For this one person knew that it couldn't truly accomplish anything; staying inside everyone without using it would simply hurt them. New steps needed to be taken.
“You! Come with me! Quickly!” Whispered the hero several days later. They held out their hand, and the person at the end of the cave grabbed on. They pulled him out just as the whole tunnel imploded and a roar sounded. “Here, follow me. I know a safe place.” They led him through a ruined street and down a hidden stairway, into a dimly lit room. Inside it huddled about a dozen people, many with wounds and bandages. “Here, have a seat.” They gestured to an open chair and he sat down, taking a piece of food from the table. “This can be your home as long as you need.” Then they were off, out into the world once again.
It was not so much. The world would stay the same. The ruins would not rebuild themselves. Not everyone could be saved, in the end. But it was something. And the saving of those few people was better than nothing. Better than simply hiding in fear, sadness, and anger.
Better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness.

i totally did not choose a random proverb from the wikipedia list-
also why is my writing always like this it seems cringe-

July 5 daily
309 words

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. That’s what they say. Well, I’d really like some lemonade, but I didn’t have any lemons to make it with. So I decided to ask for some.
“HEY LIFE!” I yelled. “COULD I PLEASE HAVE SOME LEMONS? I NEED THEM TO MAKE LEMONADE.”
Nothing happened. I waited a moment.
“LIFE?” I yelled again. “DID YOU HEAR ME?”
I waited a bit more. Still nothing. I tapped my foot impatiently.
Then, some green, lemon-shaped fruits started raining down on me from the sky. Limes. If you’ve never had lots limes fall on you, let me tell you, it’s not pleasant.
“What am I supposed to do with limes?” I complained. The lime shower had already ended. I glared up at the sky. “LIFE? DID YOU DO THIS?”
Life didn’t answer.
“I ASKED FOR LEMONS. THESE-” I picked up one of the fruits from the ground, and waved it in the air- “THESE ARE NOT LEMONS. LEMONS ARE YELLOW, NOT GREEN. THESE ARE LIMES.”
Again, nothing happened.
I threw the lime back up at the sky. “TAKE THAT, LIFE!” The lime fell back down. Ugh, gravity.
“LIFE! JUST TAKE YOUR LIMES BACK ALREADY! I DON’T WANT THEM! I ASKED YOU FOR LEMONS!”
Still no response.
“AND THESE ARE NOT LEMONS. THESE ARE NOT WHAT I ASKED FOR. I DEMAND A REFUND.”
Life kept ignoring me.
“THAT’S IT. I QUIT. STUPID LIFE.” I stomped off.
Then I stopped, and looked back at the lime-covered patch of ground. I turned around, walked back, and picked up an armful of limes. Then I headed back home.
In my kitchen, I cut the limes in half and juiced them. Then I mixed the lime juice with plenty of water and sugar. And then I poured myself a glass, and drank. Mmm.
When life gives you limes, make limeade.

Daily for Fairy Tales, 4th of July // Words - 458

Intricate carvings of fairies and blossoms attempt to steal my concentration from the glass splintering out of the mirror frame. Blood trickles down my wrists, inching onto my fingers stretching out towards the mirror. Adrenaline pulsing through my veins amplifies every emotion I’m feeling - Rage. Stress. Excitement.
I grunt forcefully, hope flickering inside my chest like a broken light. The west tower was locked, but I didn’t know how much longer it would stay like that. There was no doubt that guards would soon notice that their precious mirror was missing. What I could do with it-
Hearing a soft groan, I spin my head around, willing my concentration to stay on the curse flowing from my fingertips. One of the multiple bodies laying on the floor was getting up. A large cut stands out on the victim’s cheek, and I wonder how long it would take for her to comprehend the conversation. She staggers to her feet, but stumbles back down. “You can’t do this-” Her voice is hoarse and gravelly. I slowly realise who she is. Her pale pink gown is torn and covered in splatters of blood, but I could recognise that perfectly made up face under a full layer of ashes any day. Laughing, I shake my head.
“But, Princess, I most definitely can,” I inch towards her, and she shrinks away, terror gleaming in her eyes. “Nothing is stopping me.” I breathe heavily, blowing a strand of my hair up from my forehead, which is covered in sweat. It may be draining me, but doing this was worth it.
The mirror started to crack.
“The guards will come-” She coughs, trembling uncontrollably. “You won’t succeed.” I say nothing, knowing I need to focus more than ever. “You may be my guardian, but the guards will not stand for this.” Standing up, she tries to regain her posture. “You won’t win.”
The glass shatters.
Millions of fragments burst outwards, and I collapse. My chest rises and falls violently, and I hope that it will soon calm. The princess stands above me, hauling a large sword behind her, blood dripping from every small cut given to her by the glass. She thinks she can kill me.
“Go ahead,” I snicker, “you won’t do it.” Her intentions aren’t good, but she won’t go through with it. I know her more than anyone, and her heart was pure. She would never hurt a fly.
“I will.” Her voice cracks, “I will do it. You’ve turned into a monster. Taking over the realms isn’t going to give you enough power to satisfy yourself. You’ll just be the most terrorising villain. The most evil and cruel villain,” she said.
“Oh, but Aurora,” I sneer, “that’s exactly what I want.”

——

❛ skye ❜
fairy tales for the win!

Weekly 1

Part 1:

Natasha Romanoff (mcu) character sheet
Series: continuing but not with her

Medium to dark bright red, deep green, and a pale sort of royal blue

pronouns: she/her
sexuality: unconfirmed, straight coded
species: human

Strengths: high determination, great solving problems unconventionally, very loyal, selfless, high stamina, deceptive, perceptive

Weaknesses: Reckless, impulsive, tends to jump into things quickly, closed off, slow to trust.

Relationships:
romantic interest: Bruce Banner (former)
friends (the avengers): Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes, Wanda Maximoff, Vision
family: Alexei Shostakov (adoptive father) Melina Vostokoff (adoptive mother), Yelena Belova (adoptive sister)

General view on life: mostly negative but not hateful

Tendencies-

Tends to jump into situations without much thought
improved somewhat

Tends to shield herself (no pun intended) from others
improved greatly

Tends to care more about the people she's close to than herself or the world at large
stayed mostly the same

Situations:

One of her friends gets hurt

Emotions: anger, worry, vengeance, protectiveness
Awareness of others: ‘nobody matters right now except the person who got hurt’
Next step: get help for the injured person.

Some of her friends are in conflict

Emotions: annoyance, (insert whatever emotion comes with making an attempt that might fail)
Awareness of others: highly observant
Next step: try to mediate or find a solution

She learns valuable information that's difficult to accept

Emotions: shock, anger, irritableness, resolve
Awareness of others: minimal, semi lost in her mind
Next step: figure out what to do with the information
(248)

Natasha approaches the park, the agreed upon meeting place. She pulls the hood of her sweater up over her fiery red hair and sits on a park bench, intentionally taking up as little room as possible.
She doesn't recognize her sister immediately, because something's changed about her appearance. Natasha can't pinpoint exactly what it is until Yelena sits right beside her on the park bench. Her hair. It's chopped short, and part of it's blue. It looks good.
Natasha says nothing, and they both sit in silence for a while.
Yelena finally speaks, taking a deep breath, not looking at her sister. “How are you doing?”
Natasha knows what she's referring to. The answer is not good. “I'd rather not think about it.”
“Please, Natasha.”
She doesn't respond except to whisper, “You, at least, came back.”
A stray tear slips out. Yelena puts her arm around Natasha's shoulders, causing Natasha to tense up for a second before relaxing into the hug. “I missed you,” Yelena whispers, a sad smile crossing her face for a second.
Natasha pulls away, her stress suddenly pouring out, refusing to be bottled up any longer now that Yelena is here. “I'm so sorry, sestra. I tried. We tried. But we couldn't stop him.”
“It's okay,” Yelena promises. “You fixed it. My amazing sister saved the world again.”
“But what about the people I couldn't save?” Natasha asks, trusting Yelena to know what she means.
She does. “You did your best, and he knew what he was doing.”
Natasha nods. “It still hurts though.”
“I know. I'm sorry. But it is not your fault.”
“What was like?” Natasha asks. “You know, being… gone?”
“There isn't much to it,” Yelena explains quietly. “I was there, and then I wasn't, and I came back five years later. What was it like being here?”
Natasha sighed. “Hard. It felt like there was no point anymore. But I had to keep going. You know how it is.”
Yelena gave a sly smile. “You mean I know how you are. Most people would've given up. Many did.”
“I know that,” Natasha says. Anger seeps into her voice that she didn't mean to let through. It's not Clint she's angry at. It's herself.
She should not be the one standing here. It was not supposed to be this way. Clint had a family, he had children. He had the ability to put his mistakes behind him, and he had a reason to. All Natasha had was Yelena, the fractured Avengers, and regrets. Pages and pages of regrets.
It was supposed to be her. It should have been her. And yet it wasn't. (440)

Part 2:

Natasha is very assertive, and determined, and this shows through a lot in how she speaks. She acts confident, like exactly what she wants to say comes naturally and she is exactly who she wants to be. However she's deceptive as well, playing many roles with different expectations, and managing to make each one seem effortless. She knows what she's going to say before she starts speaking and what she's going to do before she starts doing when she's playing a role. Natasha's character voice is good because across all her roles and when she's acting as herself she maintains determination, focus, and a strong sense of what's right. Once she knows she can trust someone, she trusts them with her life and makes sure they'd be right to do the same. She is very protective of those she cares about. Her upbringing shapes how she looks at life in that she has built a shield around her, so she's reluctant to trust people until she knows their true intentions, and in that she's always trying to be the best she can be and do the best she can do despite, or maybe because of, everything life throws at her.

Yelena is similar to her sister as far as determination and focus, but she's less polished, and a lot more prone to conflict. She also doesn't care as much what people think of her, seemingly in spite of her upbringing. She moves through life with a certain ferocity, and a ‘mess with me and you’ll regret it fast' attitude. And of course she is fully capable of upholding that. In contrast with her sister, she is usually very genuine, although not in an expressive way. Her confidence in her abilities and power is real, unless it collapses. Which is a challenge for her, but she has the strength to build it back up again. She becomes very attached to things, whether they're people, items, or even ideas. And if something takes these away from her or causes her to reconsider her attachments, it's hard for her to get through that. She has a lot of built up anger and sadness inside, which contributes to her appearance as cold and hard-hearted. However if she lets her emotions out, all that melts away, and you're left with a girl with firm resolve and a high capacity for kindness. (396)

Natasha:
I had no choice. I never really did. Everything that could be decided for me was. If not, it probably wasn't a situation with a lot of options. But I always made the best of it. All I cared about when I got sent to America as a child spy was that a girl even younger than me was there too. I was going to protect her with all I had. I failed. Toward the end, everything started to feel more real. I thought maybe, I hoped maybe, we'd been forgotten. It was wishful thinking. And it was brief.
I never worried about the impact it had on me. It was all about Yelena to me, right until the end. I didn't think that I was twelve years old and aiming a gun at highly trained operatives. All I cared about was Yelena. They couldn't take Yelena. They did. They took her from a safe life, relatively, and they took her from me.
I wasn't angry for long. Soon I agreed with it. Everything I did, I wanted to do. Everything that had happened, I was grateful for. That's the hardest part. Not that it happened, but that I wanted it to. I've always thought I was working for the good guys, that I was on the right side. Now I don't know if I ever was. But especially not then. I killed little girls. My age, or Yelena's, or younger. I knew they had dreams and loved ones like I did, but that didn't stop me. My dreams and loved ones never mattered, maybe that's why theirs didn't. I could assemble and use gun before I could do long division. I know more ways to kill people than to cook something. And I'm only just realizing how twisted that is. (301)

Yelena:
I was too young to know what was happening. All I knew is that I loved my sister and I liked listening to the radio. I missed those things most after it was over. That and flexibility. Rules weren't ever my style. I would say it felt real to me, except I don't know what real actually is. I thought it was normal, which it definitely wasn't. I… don't know what to do with that. I don't remember the day it ended that much, except for fear. Everyone was afraid and I didn't know why. It's my earliest memory of bullets, although I'm sure I saw them before that. That day was really hard for me. I remember not speaking for a long time after it happened, which got me in a lot of trouble. It would have been worse, but you can easily kill people without speaking, and it meant I talked back less and asked less questions. So they let me live. It was… so messed up. I didn't even know how messed up it was until I escaped. People get called heroes and people get called villains, but the difference between them is very small. I have been called both, but I am not one or the other. I'm just a woman with a difficult past and an uncertain future. And I've made mistakes, just like anyone. I mean, sure my mistakes are bigger than most, I know that, but that still doesn't make me evil.
I want to fix them. I want to do something that will erase my mistakes but there isn't anything that can do that. So I just… try to be better. So far that hasn't gone very well. I've been fighting my whole life, I don't know how to get out of that. (301)

In case anybody cares they're both talking to Clint.

Part 3:
(next generation, alternate universe, friends to lovers (eventually at least), OC, sorta fix-it I guess, canon divergent)
Raindrops.
An important memory of mine, one that'e either been forgotten or erased, has to do with rain. I don't know how I know that. It's just true. Just like I love falling asleep to the sound of rain hitting my window, I know rain was in an important memory that used to be mine. That's the best I can do. Everyone is constantly telling me that that's enough. But I want to do more. I want to do better.
Up until I was six or seven, I was part of an experiment people tell me was cruel. I was the subject and I didn't want to be. So I suppose that's true, it was cruel.
They rewired my brain. Literally. And it wasn't just for control, or even enhancement. The only benefit that came with it was scientific observation. They dismantled me. Took me apart and rebuilt me, piece by piece, from the ground up. An attempt to erase who I was born as and build an entirely new being. A perfect being.
It failed. I was unstable. I could barely communicate or be communicated with. I lashed out in sadness and frustration seemingly at random. I barely ate, barely slept, barely survived. I was prone to forget things, but that didn't matter. Anything I managed to hold on to was almost sure to be wiped from me anyway.
That's when my family found me. They aren't my biological family, but don't you dare ever say they aren't my real family. They're real to me, they're everything to me. You've probably heard of them, they're quite famous. People call them world changers. That doesn't matter to me. I see them as parents and siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins. And I love them very much. They were able to help me, to pull me out of the darkness I had lived in for so long and put me back in control of things. Quite a few of them are extraordinary, you know.
Still, I wonder sometimes. A lot of times actually. Whether the me I am now is the me I was born as or the me I was made to be by the people who experimented on me, and which one I was destined to be.
Destiny is a concept I think about a lot. I think I like it. It helps me make some sense of what happened to me.
One of my family members doesn't care for that idea though. I call him my uncle, even though it's more like he's half way between my brother and my father. Chances are he's someone's uncle though. He had similar experiences to mine, and he says destiny is trying to justify the terrible things that happened to us when they should not be justified. I get his point, but I;m not trying to make it okay, what happened. I just have to believe there's a reason people would experiment cruelly on a little orphan girl like me, and a reason that, despite all the work my big sister did and continues to do for me, I still sometimes lapse out and become uncontrollable and uncontactable again, and hurt people when I do. There has to be a reason.
Destiny is more than that too. Destiny is I was always meant to be. I want to believe that more than anything.
I'm called Jenna. That isn't my actual name, but it's a name people who aren't my mother and her sister, or the uncle and sister I mentioned already can manage to pronounce. And it's close enough to my actual name that it still feels like me.
Sometimes it's one of the only things that feels like me. The original version is a gift from my real mother, the only thing I have from her. And the English version is a gift from my adoptive mom. I'm not saying who my family is because I want you to think I'm normal. If I tell everyone everything, no one would be my friend. And I like my friends.
Especially Skylar. We met in the third grade, which was three years ago now. That feels like a really long time ago. We've been inseparable ever since.
I love her (707)

part 4:
theblackwid0w
+472 words for the daily!

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w can i read it? i have like zero ideas help meeee! (also good job go comic )

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Sure, it's in my most recent project.

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w thanks so much!

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w wowie! that was sooooo good!

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Oh. Thanks

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w will you help me with mine?

theblackwid0w
@-macaronii Sure. What do you have so far?

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w …nothing yet

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii You have to write a character profile based on a fruit. What's your favourite fruit?

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w i don't care. all fruit is good.

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Then write about all fruit. Fruit in general.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w is that allowed???

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Does it say anywhere that it isn't?

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w um, no?

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii So?

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w okay i'll do it

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w thanks!


-macaroniii
comic is in fifth! let's do this, people!

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii We're actually in fourth now.

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w well that's even better.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w did you the weekly?

-macaronii
@theblackwid0w did you do the weekly?

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w oops repost, sorry!

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii No problem. I just finished it.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w good job!!


theblackwid0w

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theblackwid0w
Thanks for following me!

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@theblackwid0w ofc! you deserve it all the way


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theblackwid0w

messages: 2

-macaroniii commented on your project Writing Competition Entry – Scrapes
ah i love this song!

-macaroniii loved your project Writing Competition Entry – Scrapes


-macaroniii
ah i love this song!

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii I do too.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w why did you choose it?

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii It just seemed to fit.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w oh it does!

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w this is rlly good by the way

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Thank you!

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theblackwid0w commented on your profile
Only 43 followers? Crime.


theblackwid0w
Only 43 followers? Crime.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w it's 44 now

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Which isn't much of an improvement

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w it's something


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-macaroniii shared the project this can't be love • writing comp entry


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messages: 3

theblackwid0w favourited your project this can't be love • writing comp entry

theblackwid0w loved your project this can't be love • writing comp entry

theblackwid0w commented on your project this can't be love • writing comp entry
This is amazing. I'm confident you'll win something.


theblackwid0w
This is amazing. I'm confident you'll win something.

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w /gen?

theblackwid0w
@-macaroniii Yes.


theblackwid0w
Congratulations to @-macaroniii for winning Best Style in the Writing Competition! Good job, Lena <3

-macaroniii
@theblackwid0w and to ro (@theblackwid0w) for best voice!!


theblackwid0w
Scratcher | Joined 1 year, 4 months ago
United States

About me

Zero or Ro <3 she/her

I do ballet.

➻

What I'm working on

I'm camping in Comic Cabin for SWC

Scratch sister: @-macaroniii


-macaroniii
Scratcher | Joined 3 months ago
Location not given

About me

ೃ⁀➷ hey it's lena!

she/her ✿ teen

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

What I'm working on

: ̗̀➛ short stories ⊳ aesthetic content ⊳ original songs

˚ ༘♡ ⋆scratch sister = @theblackwid0w｡˚ ❀

❤

(529 words)

total: 2922

Janice sighed as the carriage bounced, and hit a rock. “Now darling, be sure to be on your best behavior.” her mother preached. “You’re lucky to have such a fine young man as your husband. All you have to say is ‘I do.’ Be sure to be polite. Heaven knows what your father brushed off on you.” Janice was 21 years old. Her mother demanded she get married to a man named Matthias, a dastardly man in her opinion. “I’d wish to be with my father any day.” she muttered. Her mother must have heard her, but she didn’t say anything. She blocked her mother ‘teaching’ and focused on the carriage window. She thought about her father, and longed to be with him. Her father let her be free as bird, while her mother acted like Janice was a slave, and she was an empress. Ever since her mother left Father, she had commanded her like one too. She knew her mother simply wanted the Matthias's family fortune, even though they were already rich, and didn't care one ounce about her, or her life. She shifted her focus to the new plan. When her mother couldn’t find any private tutors, she relented into sending her to Dartmouth College, one of the greatest colleges. Most of the students muttered about how unfairly rich kids can easily get into colleges, and that they were probably much smarter than her. But there was one boy who made a difference. A lot of the boys flirted with her, but one boy, Waylen, was by far the best of them all. He respected her, one thing that she greatly appreciated about him. Plenty of people thought she was one of those perfect rich girls, who are so delicate and fragile. She wasn’t one of those people. She was a respectable woman, though no one could see that except Waylen. She wanted to be with him. She knew running off was probably not the right choice, but if she didn’t, her life would break. She had encouraged her mother to bring as many gifts as she could, and would take them with her to Waylen. Of course, not everything can stay a secret. Her favorite maiden had found out. Her name was Beverly, and insisted on coming along. Slowly, the plan fell into place. Beverly would replace the goods with stones, in which she would carry to give to Matthias. She would hand the real goods to Waylen, who said he had a place to store them. And then, a part which Waylen came up with, which she was feeling bad about doing, she would set a shrub on fire. It would be close enough so that people would see it, but far enough that no one would get hurt. She planned to set it near the side of the crowd, far away from the water source. Once it was done, she and Beverly would sneak away through the chaos. She knew her mother would not think once about her, and simply exit the area. “Come Darling. It’s time to go.”
Beverly had been in a different carriage, and no one noticed her stuffing the boxes into a bag, replacing them, and quickly stashing the bag behind a bush, before returning to greet her mother.
“Ms. Wystone.” she said with a curtsy. “I do hope you enjoy such a special occasion.” she said, winking at Janice when she wasn’t looking. Her mother ignored her, and walked down the path. Janice gently placed a hand inside her purse, and felt the matches. She excused herself, saying she would look for Matthias. As soon as she was out of her mothers sight, she entered the forest. “Waylen?” she called.
“Over here.” She saw a shadow, and ran towards it. “You ready?” he asked, as she approached.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
==================================================================
30 minutes later, the fated hour came. She escaped from Matthias with a few excuses, and went to the far side, where the podium stood. She gazed at it. This was where she was supposed to marry Matthias. ‘Well I’m not!’ she thought. And lit a match, dropping it onto the curtain. She lit another one, and soon, the whole thing lit on fire. She ran back to the main courtyard through the forest so no one would see her. Soon, she heard screaming. She fake screamed as well, and soon, the whole place was in chaos. Her and Beverly ran into the forest, only to be stopped by a voice. “Going for a stroll, huh?” she whirled around to find Matthias standing there. Beverly stepped between them.
“We can just go. He can’t do anything.” She knew he was right
“But how will he ever know the truth?” she asked softly. She stepped forward lifting her chin. “You think I would ever marry someone like you?” she asked incredulously.
“I belong with someone else, not with you. I belong with him!” She heard Waylen approaching. “She’s right. Now leave, coward.” They all saw Matthias’s legs shaking. His face red with shame, he turned and ran. She collapsed into Waylen arms, where she belonged.

Moral - The only limitations you have are the ones you put on yourself.

Aspen’s thread!

July 5th

My proverb: an apple a day keeps the doctor away 332

It all started on May fifteenth this year. It was a routine checkup, nothing out of the ordinary. Or so I thought. I arrived at the clinic ten minutes early, the air smelled as what you would think the air of a clinic would smell like: rubber gloves and clorox wipes. There were wooden benches and comfortable looking navy chairs dotting the room, as well as two fish tanks with sad looking goldfish. I walked up to the counter, smiling at a grim grey-haired woman frowning down at me through a pair of crimson colored cat-eye reading glasses with a chain of faded colored beads connecting the frames together. “Hello, welcome to Sunshine Clinic, how may I assist you on this dazzling sunny day?” She asked in a monotone, uninspiring voice. “I’m here for a checkup,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light and approachable, despite her lack of interest in anything I might have to say. “And what is your name?” She inquires, clicking keys slowly. “John Smith,” I reply, stopping to admire my complex and interesting name. “John Smith..,” She says as she types on her keyboard. “Phone number?” She asks dully. “It’s 12-34-567,” I respond cheerfully, basking in the glory of my unique phone number. She types more, even her typing looks uninterested. She bends down, grabbing an unopened water bottle from by her feet. She twists it open with ease and takes a sip. I wait for any response as she takes her sweet time sipping the water like a chipmunk. I don’t notice it at first, but her face has started to melt and bubble, almost as if she has just drank a polyjuice potion. She transforms slowly into what appears to be a hideous green bigfoot-esque figure. “Brains…,” She mutters in a raspy gravelly voice, reaching two arms out at me. I dash back, picking up an apple from a bowl on a table and throwing it square at heer head, she falls back: unconcious.

First Weekly:

Part 1:
Character reference sheet for Chistopher Rowe (books 1-5, The Blackthorn Key)
Series continuing or ended?: continuing

Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: straight
Species: human

Strengths: intelligent, loyal, kind, and selfless
Weaknesses: a little reckless, and he doesn’t react to things right away.

Relationships:
- romantic interest: Sally Deschamps
- friends: Tom Bailey, Issac the bookseller,
- other friends: The King (More like allies thought)
- family: Benedict Blackthorn (Christopher’s Master, he’s a fatherlike figure to him though)

Tendencies:
- Tends to blow things up quite often
- Impresses many people with his code solving abilities
- Tends to follow danger wherever he goes

Situations:
Loss of a friend:
-would always remember them
-he would maybe talk to them in his mind (with his imagination of course)
-he’d feel very upset
-he’d wish they were still here

Romantic struggles:
- would wish to talk but probably wouldn’t
- would wait for the other to make the first move


Helping others:
- finds himself helping others often
- would do anything to benefit others


Senario: your character survived a deadly fire.

My eyes burned in the harsh heat. What happened?
My mind went numb with confusion. I was just sitting in the lobby talking with Sally and Tom a few minutes ago. The next thing that had happened was a loud boom. Then fire demolished the walls around me.

I sat there dumbly trying to process what to do. A firm grip dragged me from shock and dragged me outside, through the burning mess around me. I stumbled to keep up.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Tom said once we had gotten out. Alive.

My face burned hot with shame.

“One day you’re going to get yourself killed and I won’t be there to help you!” Tom said lightly.

I know he was only joking but he was right. Time and time again Tom has saved me when I had just stood there. If I was going to help the king I needed to get my act together.

“Where’s Sally?” I asked, nervous for the girl.

“Over here!” I turned to see Sally helping some other people find safety.

I walked over to join her.

We went around checking out the damage.

The building showed no evidence of the old inn that it was. By the looks of it some fire had spread to the entire building and caused the rest of it to crumble under the damage.

After the fire was put away with the help of the other shops and houses on the street, I heard the clattering of horses coming near.

Lord Ashcombe had arrived with a small group of the King’s Men. He climbed down and walked over to me and Tom.

Lord Ashcombe looked at the rubble and glared at me, “What must I do to you!? First you set a carriage ablaze and now an entire building! Really Christopher, you give me a headache.”

My face grew hot, “This time it was not me! I was just inside in the lobby when the fire started…”

Lord Ashcombe looked at Tom.

“For once it wasn’t Christopher.” Tom added.

The Marquess of Chillingham looked reluctant then looked as if he wasn’t going to punish us for this sin, “Tell me what happened.”

Tom started telling the story while I let my thoughts wander.

Fire was not very common in London- when it did happen it wasn’t on such a big scale as this one. A cold feeling spread throughout my body. What if this was done on purpose?

I saw something on the floor of the mess.

I moved towards it. In good condition- was a letter. I looked around.

It lay on the once wooden floor that was now charred.

In familiar handwriting, were the letters:

C.R.
The letter was addressed to ME.

I stood there frozen in place.

Open it, Master Benedict's voice said in my head.

I swallowed the bile in my throat and took out the parchment inside.

I hope you enjoyed my gift

Signed,
The Raven

Total words: 495

Part 2:

Character Voices: Mira and Cole from 5 Kingdoms: Sky Raiders by: Brandon Mull

Mira or also known as Miracle Pemberton seems to be the type of person to have a voice that is somewhat soft and gentle but also strong. She doesn’t wish to harm the people she cares about so she sort of keeps her feelings inside- so her voice is more passive. She does stand up for what she thinks is right, causing her to be a great leader. She doesn’t give up easily and dedicates herself to reaching her goal. She has faced many things causing her to be a strong individual which I think would add on to her ‘voice’.

Cole is determinedly a strong character. His voice probably includes something of an assertive voice. He is loyal to his friends and cares about them deeply, and he would do a lot of things to help. Cole is really brave and gives a lot of things to others. His courage reflects in the person he is. His friends can easily confide in him because they can trust Cole easily. He can be pretty smart when he puts his mind to it, especially when his good friends are in danger. He takes a little while to process change and always comes to accept it.

I’m doing the scene in the first book where they meet Carnag!

!Warning: There are some spoilers ahead!

Mira’s Perspective:


As they rode down to the ruined town I glanced around. So many people are risking their life to help me. Jace, Cole, and even Twitch. I was grateful for each and everyone of them. This was my mission and yet throughout the entire time these three had stayed by my side.

“It’s not too late to turn back.” I said to the others. “If you want you guys can just stop here and I’ll face Carnag.”

“Uh No. Not going to happen.” Jace said, determined.

“It’s kind of a bit too late now.” Twitch said nervously.

Cole took a little bit more time, “I’m here anyways, I’ll help you.” I was surprised at this, his quest to find his friends was his top priority and yet the entire time he had helped them and saved them countless times. I was extremely grateful for him. Without him, they all would have died back a long time ago, even before that they wouldn’t have even escaped the Sky Raiders!

I focused my gaze ahead where more destruction laid ahead. We were getting closer as the destruction looked recent. I swallowed all my worries down. I had to reclaim my powers. For the friends that are sacrificing their lives for me and for the kingdom that is being led through my father’s harsh rule.

Finally we had eyes on the raging monster. The beast was a hideous sight.

As I rode closer I could feel the power that had once belonged to me. I felt almost- complete. For years I had felt empty- lost and powerless. But as my father weakened and my stolen power returned I could feel something that I had been missing.

I heard a few shouts coming from inside the monster. Then I saw the cage. Hidden in between the monster was a giant cage, Harboring hundreds of people.

With a sickening realization I realized that these were the people that lived in the village. The people that Carnag had held captive.

I immediately felt guilt. Carnag was just a manifestation of my stolen power. In a way it was my fault these poor people were being held captive.

This made me more determined. If this was my power- I had to fix it. I would defeat Carnag, take my power back, and free the people.

Cole’s Perspective:

I could feel the fear. We were about to face Carnag- the terrifying beast that was haunting Sambria. I knew I had the option to turn back- but something made me stay.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I should just turn back now and go find Dalton and Jenna by myself. It was definitely safer than to face Carnag and die right away. Mira was even okay with me going! She said we all could turn back now. So what harm could it do?

Except Mira had been a good friend to me the entire time I had known her. I had a good feeling that siding and sticking with Mira was the best possible chance of survival.

Either way, I had already told Mira that I would help her defeat Carnag and take back her stolen power- I wasn’t going to back on what I told her already.

I had to think positive- if we survive maybe Mira would offer her services and contacts to help me in my search? I knew the High Shaper’s daughter would have some influences- especially on the rebellion. They could help me search for my friends. This seemed like the only reasonable and best way to go.

As I was busy negotiating my options we saw Carnag. The monster was busy rampaging the entire village.

I glanced at Mira and immediately realized she was blaming herself for this. In the little time I knew her, I had found her easy to read.


I brought my horse closer to her, till I was right next to her.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” I said.

She nodded, “Thanks for staying Cole.”

“Well I thought it was better than wandering around in the unknown lands of the Outskirts.” I said, trying to cheer her up.

She smiled and we began descending closer.



Part 3!:

Tropes chosen: Magic AU, Alternate Universe AU, and Canon Compliant

My fanfiction is going to be Dalton’s experience on entering the Outskirts (Five Kingdoms: Sky Raiders by Brandon Mull)

Have you ever had that feeling where your stomach gets this weird tingling feeling and the back of your throat starts feeling scratched out and dry whenever you're scared? I felt both of these when the strange man offered a better score than what we had just experienced.
A group of kids including me and my best friend, Cole went to this haunted house on Halloween. We were unsatisfied with the scare we got, now the owner of the house is persuading us to go into the basement of his house for a better scare.
This was not a good idea. No one we know in this neighborhood has a basement- why would this guy have it? Something was clearly off, but everyone was eager to see what the man had in store for us. Even Cole seemed to agree. That’s probably because his crush, Jenna, wanted to go.
I didn’t want to end up looking like a wimp- so I decided no harm could be done right?
The man led us to the basement door- as we started down the wooden steps I heard a click.
“Guys, the door just got locked behind us.” I said, scared.
Cole was quiet, so were the other kids.
“It’s probably part of the act.” Cole assured him.
We all crowded into the tiny room at the bottom of the stairs. Big red curtains covered the perimeter- probably for the show, I said to myself.
Then without any warning- the red curtains dropped revealing dozens of men, each of them grabbed a child. I strained against the grip of the man holding me.
One by one we were brought into a cage.
Somehow I had lost track of the scarecrow that Cole was dressed as.
Are they kidnapping us? I thought fearfully?
No, they couldn’t! There were too many kids for them to escape with let alone get away with it. One way or another someone would notice and immediately call the police at the sights of the large group of kids.
I took a look at my surroundings. There were cages surrounding us packed with kids in all sorts of Halloween costumes. My sad clown was just added to the collection.
Pretty soon the men started guiding us down this sewer-like area. We climbed down the metal ladder one by one, until finally my feet didn’t hit the next wring and I went falling down the hole.
I kept falling and falling expecting to die from the impact at the end- I had given up hope until he was standing on both feet again. What had happened?
He glanced around to find them on a hilly area. The sun was shining down on them.
A lady that I had noticed ran up to him. She grabbed his hands and examined them. She started murmuring things that I couldn’t catch. Then she took out a needle and started drawing a weird mark on my hand.
I winced at the interaction the needle made with my skin.
My skin burned as she brought me over to a wagon along with many. This one was near the front of the line. I was forced onto the wagon and she closed the door leaving me with the other kids.
After what seemed to be like forever we started moving and then settled again in a shaded area before the sun set.
I saw a figure move in the shadows, “Cole?”
Cole leaned in the shadows- a finger to his lips.
Cole leaned further in, “I came here on my own, I’m here to rescue you. Is the wagon locked?” He asked.
I nodded, “The guy that led us down here has the key.”
Cole darted out of sight. Could we escape?
Then I heard a voice call out, “Intruder! This guy is trying to escape!”
The voice belonged to a red headed girl a few wagons back.
Immediately the men seized Cole. My hopes dropped.
He was later brought towards a man with a sickle hand and the woman who had drawn that strange mark on me.
I could hear their entire conversation- but I heard bits and pieces.
“You’re in the Outskirts boy- with no chance of escaping.” The sickle man told Cole.
I watched them in confusion. The Outskirts? What’s that? From my geology knowledge there wasn’t a place on Earth called the Outskirts.
They started talking quieter now to the point where I couldn’t hear them.
Then the man pointed to my wagon he was also speaking louder, “You see that wagon- those yeer slaves with highest quality of shaping ability will go to the High Shaper.”
Slaves? We were going to become slaves? I started to panic.
The man pointed to the end of the wagon line, “You will be going there- you decided to try and escape AND you have no shaping ability. Pitiful.”
Shaping? The Outskirts was a confusing place.
The next morning we started off again. I sort of lost track of time, sometime that day Cole was sold off. I kept remembering his promise to rescue us. I had to believe it.
Off I went to get sold to the High Shaper- whoever that was.

Part 4:

I decided to make my SWC fanfic based around the idea that SWC is an actual writing camp and it’s my first day there!

I was so excited! Today was going to be my first day at Scratch Writing Camp! This wasn’t my first time joining the camp, I did it last session- but this time it’s summer and my parents are allowing me to stay full day! (The last session was during the school year, my parents only allowed me to go in the afternoon.)
I was moving my stuff to the Myth Cabin admiring the location. The 15 cabins that represented different genres were located in a circular shape in this grassy clearing. Each cabin’s architecture represented different aspects in the cabin's storyline.
For example, Myth's cabin was made out of a dark wood. Engraved in the cabin were intricate designs forming a maze-like pattern. Vines emerged from the back of the cabin slowly creeping towards the front. This design represented the Myth Maze- the storyline for this session.
I entered the magical cabin. The front double doors were grand and stood 7 feet tall. I heaved to push the door.
Inside the cabin people of all ages and genders were waltzing in and out. On the far back wall was a large bulletin board, used for announcements, posting the daily challenges and lots of other information about the cabin.
Spread out across the floor were tons of sleeping bags. To set the mood and to follow the storyline we were going to sleep in sleeping bags for the rest of the month. I didn’t really like the idea of sleeping on the floor when I could have been sleeping on the bed but I didn’t argue.
Next to each sleeping bag was a desk and a charging port. This was going to be used as a writing desk. To work on the weekly, dailies, and storyline!
I was busy watching the busy cabin when I didn’t see a girl approaching me.
“Hi! I’m Moss! One of your cabin leaders!” She smiled.
She pointed to multiple empty desks, “Feel free to find an empty desk and set up your sleeping bag there.”
I smiled back, “Thanks so much!”
She waved and went on her way.
I found a vacant desk near the back.
On my right was a girl who was sitting on her sleeping bag unpacking her things.
She turned to look at me, “Hi! My name’s Iris!”
I smiled, “Hello! My name’s Ayid!”
I placed down my things and checked to see who was to my left.
It was another girl sitting on her desk this time.
I walked over to her to introduce myself, “Hi there! My name’s Ayid, what’s yours?”
She looked up at me and gave me a big smile, “The name’s Quinn! Are you excited for camp?”
“You bet!”
I settled down my things- ready for my first day at camp to start.

Weekly total word count: 2731 words!

July 6th Daily

Word Count: 1,306

Alt prompt: Write 500 words about a character with one of these psychic superpowers: psychometry, intuition, premonition, telekinesis, astral projection, or telepathy.

When the rude laughter erupted around me, I had to remind myself to stay calm. Oh, how it was so tempting to just- But no, I couldn't. If they found out it would only encourage their teasing. They would call me a freak. A weirdo. Someone who doesn't fit in. Not that they didn't already think that but, you know, if they found out about my secret that I've painstakingly tried to hide, it would only intensify their teasing. Who knows, I might even end up in a zoo or a lab! Arghh, but it was so, so tempting to just extend my hand and- Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand shot out, a chair moving along with it. The chair slid and fell right in front of Mikayla and her clique's feet. They noticed but it was already too late, they fell, arms flailing around awkwardly, searching for something to latch onto. I stifled my laughter, then, horrified, realized what I'd done. I withdrew my hand and hurried out of the cafeteria, hoping no one had spotted me. Hopefully, they all just thought the chair had tipped on its own. Yeah, that was unlikely.
The safest place for me to hide would probably be outside, near the edge of the campus there are some trees. I could hide there until after lunch. I ran across the field, not stopping until I reached the grove. Once there, I released my breath and flopped down on the grass and stared up at the clouds passing by.
My heart rate had finally slowed when a face appeared above me and asked, “How did you do that?” I shrieked and bolted upright. My forehead colliding with his nose in the process.
“Ow!” We said in unison, I rubbing my forehead and him holding his nose. After the pain in my head subsided a little, I examined him closer. He had shaggy dark brown hair with green eyes that sparkled, even though he was probably in a great deal of pain. He was kind of cute. I immediately shoved that last thought away.
“You have a hard head.” He said, half smiling.
“Well, it's kind of your fault for scaring me.” I retorted.
“It's my fault you have a hard head?” He was smirking now.
“That's not what I meant.” I huffed out.
Suddenly, I remembered what he had said before we collided. “Umm, you should go get your nose checked by the nurse.” It was a lame excuse to get him to leave but hopefully, he would take it.
“I think it's fine.” He lifted his hands away and gingerly touched his nose. “I saw what you did back there.”
I froze. Okay, so he wasn't going to leave me be. “What?” My voice came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What do you mean?”
He stopped touching his face. “You know, your…” He shoved his hand out, miming what I'd done in the cafeteria. “…Your telekinesis.”
“And what makes you think I have telekinesis?” I tried to make my voice and expression joking.
“Look…” He lowered his voice. “I saw you. It wasn't a coincidence that you stuck your hand out and the chair moved. Nor was it a coincidence that you bolted out of the cafeteria right after.”
He leaned closer. “Besides, you don't need to say it for me to know.”
“What?” I gasped.
“That's right, I'm a telepath.”
I searched his face for a sign he was joking but he looked dead serious. “You're kidding me, right?”
“I'm not.” His smile returned. “Want me to prove it by telling you what you're thinking right now?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“No!” I purposefully thought about shoes. Shoes were a safe topic. I wouldn't think about my telekinesis or how soothing his deep voice was. “Get out of my head!” I shouted at him.
“Sorry. I can't exactly block your thoughts.” He smirked. Or can I?
I scrambled backwards as his voice seemed to pop up inside my head. But that was impossible, right? I mean, a lot of people thought telekinesis was impossible too. But here I am. Oops, I was thinking about telekinesis again.
“I knew it!” He grinned triumphantly. “You do have telekinesis!”
“Shh!” I hissed at him, putting my finger to my lips.
“Oops,” He looked sheepish and lowered his voice. “Sorry.”
Running his hand through his hair he sat down next to me and leaned back. “I'm just so excited to meet someone with a power like mine! All my life, I thought I was the only one who was unique, had a secret talent. But now I met you!” Her emerald green eyes met mine.
“Man, this is great! Now I have someone I can talk to about this stuff!” His voice softened.
“I'm sure you've wished you had someone who knew. Someone who understood the struggle.”
“Yeah,” I said, not meeting his eyes. I flopped back down on the grass and stared up at the clouds. The boy -I realized now I didn't know his name- lay down next to me and I suddenly became aware of close we were lying. Raising my hand up, I scooted him a couple of inches away from me, bad idea. I should have just scooted away myself.
“Wow! That's so cool! It felt like a wall suddenly appeared and shoved me.” His grin was so wide now, that I didn't even think it was physically possible.
I sighed and rolled my eyes, standing up. “I should be going now. I don't want to be late for my next class.” Truthfully, I just wanted to get away from him.
“Wait!” He sat up and grabbed my arm. “I don't even know your name.”
“Well, it's not Cinderella.”
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “If I tell you mine will you tell me yours?”
“Fine.” The sooner I told him, the sooner I could leave. “My name is Ava.”
“Ava,” He said as if trying it out. “That suits you. I'm Philip.”
“Nice to meet you, Philip but I really should be going-” The end of my sentence was cut off by the bell signalling the end of the lunch period.
“Bye,” I called flatly and started to jog back.
“Bye! Same time tomorrow?” I heard him call after me but I ignored him.
I barely reached my class on time and got a warning from Mr. Adams. I apologized and said it wouldn't happen again but my mind was elsewhere.
By the end of the day, I had been scolded numerous times by my teachers for not paying attention, one teacher had even threatened to send me to the principal. I didn't care though. For some reason I couldn't -wouldn't- explain, I wanted to see Philip again. I even looked forward to seeing him again tomorrow. That is if he were serious. I seriously doubt he was though.
Oh, I was being completely serious.
I jumped, scaring a nearby cat. I can't believe it! How long have you been listening? I thought, hoping he could hear.
Oh, long enough to hear how you really feel about me. I could practically feel him grinning.
Well stop. It feels like you're invading my privacy.
Fine. Somehow he transmitted his sigh. Bye, Ava! See you tomorrow.
Bye. I knew when he cut the connection, my mind felt cold and empty. For a second I stopped, wishing I could ask him to come back.
Then I remembered who I was. I didn't fawn over boys. I certainly didn't want one reading my mind. Besides, I would see him tomorrow. I shrugged and continued my walk home, vowing not to think of Philip for the rest of the day.

july 6 daily

I think I mainly used the first part of my prompt, haha. I used the sagittarius one, and the characters' names are taken from the zodiac signs (:

540/500 words
—
“Tari! Have you got it?” called Ari.
“Yes, yes, one second,” her sister replied, twisting her arm around the main halyard and pulling. With a whoosh, the mainsail rose up to the top of the mast and caught the wind, whipping back and forth carelessly.
“All that wind…” Grumbling, Ol’ Tau came up above decks, squinting in that way he always did when emerging from his captains’ lair.
“Tau-Tau, it’s the only way to get the sail up!” Ari reminded him.
“Yeah, well I don’ have to like it!” he retorted, hobbling back down the steep steps into the depths of the sailboat.
Sighing, Tari quickly cleated the line and tilted her gaze to the horizon. “It seems like tomorrow may bring good weather! Finally! The winds were too strong yesterday, barely picked up today, but they’re pickin’ up now and the clouds seem to be movin’ on out!”
“Awesome,” Ari said. She scooted out from her place crouched in some small corner where she’d been tinkering away on something, and headed after Tau belowdecks.
“Is dinner ready soon?” Tari asked after her sister.
“I believe Tau made some kinda soup with the stuff he caught this morning, yeah,” Ari tossed over her shoulder.
“Great. I hope we don’t get sick for 3 weeks again eating his ‘mystery soup’,” Tari said.
Ari smirked and swung the hatch closed behind her.
Tari glanced over at the horizon, noting the setting sun and its relative angle to the nearest landmark—a small island in the distance. Hopefully tomorrow, they’d be setting sail for it.
After a quick meal (whose soup thankfully didn’t seem to have any mysterious crunchy bits), Tari, Ari, and Tau bid goodnight to one another and scattered to their respective cabins for the night.
Curled up in her hammock, Tari closed her eyes and let the swaying of the boat rock her slowly to sleep.
—
Early in the morning, she awoke to the sound of seagulls calling across the bay. Rubbing her eyes with sleep, Tari trudged her way to the small kitchen and fixed herself a ham sandwich.
“Morning,” Ari said, wandering in.
“Hey. Can you talk to the ships that came in the night, see how the currents were in the passes for ‘em?” Tau said, coming up behind.
“Right. I’ll be back, then.” Ari snatched a piece of Tari’s sandwich and headed up.
Tau turned to Tari. “Gonna be a long day on the water today; somethin’ tells me you’ll have to keep good watch. And I’m feelin’ sick so… it’s all up to you and your sister to keep things going, right?”
“You’re sick? What was in that soup, anyway?” Tari exclaimed, alarmed.
Tau waved his hand. “Bah, don’t worry about that. I’ll be better soon. Just can’t commit to stayin’ up all day, y’know. I’m just worried…”
His gray eyes focused on the wall behind Tari.
“Yeah?” she asked softly.
“It’s nothing.” Tau waved his hand again, though he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than her. “Just be nice to your sister, okay? And, do me one more favour, could you make me up another sandwich? My joints don’t seem to be workin’ the way they used to, right.”
“Yeah, okay.”

Daily 6 (811 words)
Journalists filed in from every corner of the factory, hurrying to write down the articles and print out the newspapers. Aleia, who was the head of the printing press, was overloaded with flying pages and broken ink bottles. Her hands were a whirl and a blur as she loaded the newspapers to each hurrying worker.
“Addie!” Aleia shouted over the rumbles of the printers. “What on earth are you doing?”
Addie was standing near the entrance, peering through the door. Her hands were loaded with handwritten notes and books. She looked quite worried.
“What?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes. “I’m just looking out the door to see the cabins!!”
“Help me, will you?” Aleia asked, scrambling to reach for a piece of paper that had flown out of her hand. “It’s just the two of us here - ah!”
Her foot had accidentally trodden on a puddle of wet ink. “Addie!”
“Okay, okay,” Addie ran forward, collecting pages and answering the many questions that followed. “No, no, yes, you can do that - I don’t know what place we’re in!”
“Oh, no!” Addie looked over to see a huddle of Journalists waiting for her to inspect their articles. “I’m sorry, Aleia - I’ll be right back!” she ran over to them and began flipping through the contents. “Why - is - this - so - hard?!”
“Probably because there are only the two of you!” A Journalist chirped, handing Addie a folder full of old paper with coffee stains. Addie accepted it with a sigh.
“Probably…” she murmured, reading through the file thoroughly, shuffling the pages with a grimace. “Hey, there’s a spelling error here… yeah, right here. It’s spelt ‘cowboy’, not the actual emoji… yeah I know it’s not an actual spelling error, but it’s still the same thing.”
“Addie!” Aleia’s piercing call bounced from the walls of the factory and echoed throughout the building. “Check the rankings!”
“It’s not time yet!” Addie yelled back, passing the folders one by one as quickly as she could. “It’s not midnight - argh!” A folder dropped on the floor, spilling out its contents. “Ah! Sorry.” she apologised to the Journalist. “I’ll pick it up for you.” she reached down to save the remaining pages still intact.
“Addie! It’s 11:50 - we should go down soon!” Aleia called over the chatter. “Then we can sleep!”
“Sleep, ah yes, sleep,” Addie had not gotten her healthy dose of eight hours that night. “I need sleep - next! No shoving in the line!”
The clock was ticking. Addie was trying to get through everyone’s submissions before midnight so they could work on the daily. Aleia was trying to get everything printed before the new daily arrives so that they could sleep peacefully afterwards.
11:55. Addie and Aleia could hear the hoard of campers already arriving early.
“Hurry up!” she called the remaining Journalists, who were chatting away. “We need to get this sorted before midnight!”
“Oh yeah, the new daily!” The Journalists' voices were suddenly high. “New daily, everyone!”
“I still need to do the weekly!” One other Journalist piped up.
“Well, you can do the daily first then the weekly,” Addie replied, sounding tired.
11:58. The clock was ticking.
“I’m done, I’m done!!” Aleia cheered, hopping from the printer. “That printer!”
“I’m almost done! Just two left to go - hurry up!” Addie called, skimming through the pages. “Alright here you go - last one!”
The last Journalist handed in their folders. Addie opened it, and went through the lot.
“Hurry up, Addie!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying!”
11:59.
“Done!” Addie erupted from out of the blue, dropping the folders and making the mess on the floor, much to the Journalist’s annoyance. “Oops, sorry. We can clear that up later. Off to the main cabin we go!” she sped down the doors and down the hill, towards where a huddle of campers were already standing.
The new daily was already pinned on the board. And so were the rankings.
“Aww,” groaned a Journalist. “We’ve bumped down a rank. We’re now behind Sci-Fi.”
“We need people to do the daily!” Addie yelled to her campers.
“We need sleep, first!” Aleia yelled back. “Off to the factory we go, campers! Sleep is your top priority at this minute.”
The Journalists ran back up the hill; some slouching and walking slowly. They were evidently tired. Addie went up the hill and through the doors.
“I know someone who can do the daily right now,” Addie announced. “Aleia, hand me the megaphone.”
Aleia, obviously confused, ran up the factory floors. Minutes later, she was down with the megaphone connected to a speaker.
“Here you go,” she said slowly.
“Thank you, Aleia,” Addie accepted the megaphone gratefully. She lifted it up, turned to the entrance, and shouted so loud into it that surely the other SWC-ers who were sleeping could jerk awake.
“RYNN, GO DO THE DAILY!”

Fan-Fi Daily 7
376 words

As a rebel hacker, I wake up early every day and barely spend any time getting ready before I'm out the door. In the morning fog, no one notices me walking the mile or so to the forests on the outskirts of the city, where the tech department is hiding. I reach the run-down warehouse, constantly stealing glances over my shoulders. Stepping carefully so as not to trigger any hidden alarms, I type in the entrance code on a hidden keypad. A silent trapdoor slides open, revealing a spiraling staircase leading down into the darkness of a bunker.
The cramped tech department is a sharp contrast to the eerie stillness of the forest above. Fingers tap on keyboards, computers and servers beep, and a stream of chatter hums in the background. A door off to the side opens into a Simulation room, where we've put all the anomalies that we found. They've been appearing more and more frequently, and now we usually find two or three just by walking to work.
I find my computer and begin typing lines of code. I've recently been perfecting a password bot that tests every possible combination of letters and numbers until it finds the password that works. It can currently test about a hundred combinations per second, and I'm trying to increase it to around a thousand. That's still annoyingly slow, but it's better than us typing everything manually. I work quickly; we need this bot soon to access the Government's information.
Another one of my projects is trying to figure out where those anomalies are coming from. They each contain a small amount of data, and we think that data can be used to program a simulation. However, we don't have enough anomalies to create a whole simulation, so my current job is to collect more.
Once in a while I get a break. The break room has a mini fridge, a coffee machine, a water cooler, and some comfy chairs. I have a quick snack and soon get back to work.
At night, I walk alone back to my city apartment. The leaving times are staggered to avert suspicion. I collapse on my bed as soon as I get home, eager to relax after a busy day.

Leo
- wurds fur dayle >=3
WIP

DAILY FOR JULY 6TH

Aquarius

IDK WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT SO WE'RE JUST GOING TO GO WITH THE FLOW.

“AACK!” I slammed my head on my bed. Gods, why is trying to complete a weekly in two days so hard??? Well I guess it's my fault for waiting until the last two days two do it. I mostly didn't have time to do it because Mom signed me up for a tutor to improve my poor grades. I wasn't really focusing on school lately and kept getting multiple D's in almost all subjects. The almost is because I am basically failing science. The tutor was clearly not helping but Mom wouldn't take the hint. If anything that tutor was just stressing out my schedule with all the extra work.

I decided to stop moping and finally get to work on the weekly that was assigned from this Mandatory writing camp, called SWC, or Scratch Writing Camp, my writing teacher, Ms. Comfy Couch, had assigned to me. This was in hopes of improving my writing grade. I don't think it was working. Similar explanation for the tutor I had.

I pulled out my old laptop I have had for over 5 years. I logged on and pulled up a google doc I kept all my writing for SWC. The next thirty minutes of my life was spent on me writing something that immediately deleting all of it. I EVENTUALLY realized that the stress was getting me and finally decided to take a well deserved break.

As I lay there on my bed, rethinking my life decisions, my thoughts wandered to my ex-best friend who betrayed me brutally. My best friend, named Window, had betrayed me by betraying my precious secret. That my real name was Autumn! No one is supposed to know about that. I'm registered and I've been telling everyone to call me Light Bulb. Autumn is such an embarrassing name! I was so angry and sad at Window. I felt I was about to blow! I was going to get my revenge against Window very soon.

The worst thing is, I have no one to talk to. My mom is way too busy to handle me with my baby sister, Flower Pot. We barely see my dad because of his work. My two brothers, Speaker and Water Bottle won't help me- all they would do is just annoy me or tease me.

Speaking of my annoying older brothers, which I wish they never existed, Both Water Bottle and Speaker entered my room, Diary in hand.

“Dear Diary, Today I had the WORST day at school.” My eldest brother, Speaker said in his worst imitation of my voice.

I jumped out of my bed, “Give that back!” I snatched the diary out of his head.

Water Bottle looked at me, “Don't you want to tell you big brothers what happened?!” He said in a baby voice.

I have had it.

I screamed and told everything that had happened in the past day, “Do YOU know how it feels to have your best friend betray for some other ‘cooler’ friends.?! Have YOU have to struggle on maintaining your grades?! I bet YOU don't have to put up with annoying brothers everyday!”

I heaved. Wow. That felt… Good.

Then both my brothers did the most surprising thing ever. They hugged me.



oksothatwasmyterribledailyweshallneverspeakofthisterriblestoryeveryagain.tankyouforyourcooperation.goodbye.