Daily #6! +800 points for Fairy Tales! 656 words, Alternative Prompt <33

Jenna woke up with a start. It was finally the day. The day for her first lesson! She leaped out of her bed and ran to the bathroom. She had to look good for her first day, of course. She squeezed a slab of toothpaste onto her toothbrush, and started to impatiently brush her teeth. Once she was finally done, she brushed through her brown hair so that her blonde highlights would show. She picked out a closed, light blue knotted cardigan with some jeans. It was a pretty cute outfit, to be honest. She yanked on her clothes, and ran downstairs to start eating.
“Good morning, Mom!” She greeted, quickly sitting down at the table and plating her food. She was obviously up way earlier than everyone else.
“Good morning, sweetie. You’re up early. What time did you go to sleep last night?”
Jenna paused. What time had she gone to sleep last night? Her mom seemed to notice the hesitation, for she let it slide.
“You know what, never mind. I know you’re excited for that new virtual lesson or something. But are you okay?”
Jenna stabbed a strawberry with her fork.
“Yes, Mom, I’m okay. It’s a math lesson with some old friends from 7:00 am to 10:30 am.”
Before she could leap upstairs to start her lesson, her mom put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Wow, Jens, I’ve never seen you this excited to start a math lesson. You sure you’re okay?”
Jenna nodded, her mouth full of syrupy pancake. She forced herself to swallow.
“Yes, Mom, I’m fine. Just really excited to learn something new and see some friends!” She said thickly, dashing up the stairs to her room.
Jenna’s mom shook her head.
“That girl…always doing something new.”
Little did anyone know, that math lesson that reunited Jenna’s friends was not actually a math lesson, and instead was a recruiting meeting for a team of superheroes.
Who would’ve imagined that?
Professor Gaunt, of course.
In a city isolated from the rest of the world called Nefty, a secret headquarters for The Seven was bustling with activity.
“Quickly, quickly! Professor Gaunt will be coming soon.” Workers rushed in and out of the kitchen and into the dining room, and back again, placing breakfast foods on platters and dishing meats on boards. Meanwhile, six teenagers sat, bored, around a dining table.
“I wish Kayla was here.” Lucinda, a curly headed girl said, slumping back in her seat.
There was silence for a moment.
“That’s why we’re doing the meeting today, so we can find a new Kayla.” Joshua, the oldest of the group said, crossing his arms.
“No, I wish Kayla was here.” Lucinda repeated.
No one responded to this, and therefore, it stayed silent except for the bustling to prepare breakfast.
Then, the professor walked in. Everything went silent. The teenagers sat up in their seats, and the workers who were outside the kitchen stiffened up and marched back in.
“Professor Gaunt.” They greeted, bowing their heads.
“Children.” The old and frail professor said, sitting down in his cushioned chair. He looked around to see an expected, but not welcome, empty space between Joseph and Linda, who somehow looked even more depressed than usual. The empty space of Kayla. Number Four.
He still could not bring himself to believe that she was dead. That she had sacrificed her life for the rest of them.
But she sure wasn’t alive, for she was resting six feet under in Rosemary Park Cemetery.
And even in their darkest moments, The Seven would always prevail over evil, and so today was the day that a new person to replace Kayla would be picked.
The professor could only hope this one was as good as Kayla Adelaide Rossbeld, the heir of the Gaunt legacy, the core to The Seven, the telekinesis queen, and the woman who would sacrifice anything for her loved ones.

Main cabin daily:

Young love is something to appreciate, because it always fades away. I thought he was my forever. I was wrong. It’s been one day since he’s gone away, and all I can think of is him. We would run away together, climb trees together, and dive into the old lake. He might not have had much, and my parents might not have liked him, but my heart was forever in the perfect place. That was the life I knew I always wanted to have, but sadly that effect didn’t stay. He was driven away by a crew of men and he needed to go out to sea. He told me someday he’d come back riding on a horse, and sweep me off my feet. I told him that I needed him, we had two girls, they were just babies. Two kids need their father, please do not go. He still rode off on horseback and left me alone. I know that he still loves me, and that he never wanted this to end, but I had a life, I couldn’t take to the sea. My children still needed me.
When I was little my dream was to be like a princess that had a prince sweep me off my feet. He’d love me and we would adventure the world. I always wanted to travel, but I knew my life was here with my children, Alice and Courtney. Courtney was the name of my lover's mom, and Alice the name of his grandmother. They were taken in battle away from his dad and they were never seen again. I was fortunate to grow up with my mother and father, but he was not. When we were teenagers falling in love, my parents despised his father and my father warned me to stay away from my true love. I didn’t listen. Who knew my father would be right. He would just break my heart again. I wasn’t even aware of why he had to go to sea. He just told me it was urgent, and I believed him. Though I didn’t want him to go, I eventually stopped arguing and told him he was to do what he needed to do, even if it broke my heart.
On June 12th I met him. He was delivering paper to our door. He looked directly into my eyes. I collapsed as he did. When I was young I had a fainting sickness. My father told me I should stay careful and only be with people he trusts, and I trust so that I would always be safe. He ran to my side and carried me to a bench. The boy was a bit late delivering papers. A normal paper boy would have been long gone. The boy had only just set me on the bench when my father stepped out to get the paper and saw me. He apologized many times to him, and explained what happened. When I woke up I was inside on a sofa and my father was yelling at my mother for letting me go outside to water the plants. He quickly scurried over to me as I woke.
“Livie, you are only to go outside if I or your mother are with you, otherwise you are to stay in your room, your study for school, or the dining area. This is for your safety. Stay away from that boy. I don’t trust him.” My father stood up and went to walk away.
“I called out from the sofa, “Father, but, but, I mustn't stay locked in my room.” I pleaded to him. “Father, I’m fifteen, let me live.”
“You heard me. You are to stay in your room. Understand.” Father looked at me with a deafening stare. “Do you understand!” He yelled at me.
“Yes father.” I mumbled feeling discouraged and disappointed. My childhood was ruined.

————————————-

Two days after I had been locked to the confined space of my room I heard a tap on the window. I peered down to find it was the paperboy, but he had no bike or papers. He had not come for that reason.
I opened the window to get him to stop throwing small stones at it. “You alright?” He asked. “Your dad yelled at me for helping you up, and I wanted to make sure he was being kind to you as well.” My cheeks blushed a rosy red. He was so sweet.
“I… I… well I… he means well. He loves me, he does, but he’s gone too far. Locked me in this little room for my protection.” I explained to him.
“Come down. He won’t know.” The boy told me. “We could go to the old stream.”
“But I don’t even know your name.” I explained. “My father told me that…” I didn’t want to finish. I wanted to hang out with this boy. He means well. I think I kind of even liked him.
“Your father told you what?” He asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I want to go to the stream. The only problem is, how do I get down there. I can’t go out the front door!” I told him.
He whipped out a large rope and threw it up to the window. “Here.” I attached the loop on the top of the rope to a knob on a dresser, and climbed down the slim rope.
“Let’s go!” I yelled out in joy! “Oops. Maybe I should be a bit quieter. Let’s go.” I changed my voice to a whisper. We ran out to the water and he took me in his arms and threw me in.
“Oh my gosh! I’m all wet! How could you!” I yelled at him. “Help me out!” He took my hand and we made eye contact. He had beautiful blue eyes. I was starstruck, I shook my head and stopped staring. I yanked his hand and pulled him into the water.
“You!” He screamed while laughing out as he gasped for air and his head bobbed.
“Can you swim?” I asked.
“Of course.” He swam over to me. “Now let me properly introduce myself. I’m Alex.” He told me.
“I’m Livie.” I said. My gaze locked with his.
“I think I’m in love.” He told me. He lifted me out of the water and kissed me. I loved the sensation of it. I was in love too.
“Me too.” I said. Then I kissed him again, and he dropped me back into the water laughing as I coughed out some water.

————————————-

Just as easy as that, he left. And every day he’s been gone, my heart wants him even more. Every day he is gone, his absence makes my heart grow fonder. I hope he still loves me as much as I do him. I know I said it wasn’t meant to be, but I hope I was wrong. I hope we can still be happy, like we were on June 12th, 1921.


Other unfinished attempt:

“Has he really been gone for two weeks?” Lily asked Fochs.
“I know. To some it feels as though he’s been gone for a couple of days, but to me it feels like he’s been gone for five years. Lily, I don’t like this. I know he was doing something important, though he wouldn’t tell me what, but I hoped that he would be back by now! Lily, I miss him.” Fochs sat down and put her head in her hands. She wasn’t about to cry, but she wanted to. Fochs didn’t cry. She hasn’t cried since she was twelve and her father passed from a disease. She wanted to be close to someone. She had no family, and she missed her husband terribly. Fochs was married to a handsome, tall, brown haired man from Washington. His name is

July 6th Daily (1187 Words)
TOC

SCORPIO PROMPT AYEE

NO BUT WHY DOES THE INTRO SOUND LIKE THE INTRO FOR MSA :SOB:

Hi, my name is Sofia and I'm in the 8th grade. People will go around saying that school is literal hell, but I personally don't think it's /that/ bad. I have a pretty decent sized friend group, my teachers aren't that strict either, but best of all our lunch is almost always edible. My friend Mia goes to school in another state and she's sent me the most horrifying pictures of her school's lunches and boy am I grateful we have something somewhat appetizing to eat most days.

One day I was minding my own business walking to my locker to get stuff for my next class when I heard some girls giggling. I'm a little self-conscious and I tried to speed past them in case they were laughing at my jeans. I didn't think there was anything wrong with them, but they were wrinkled a bit and who knows what could get a kid bullied these days, but the next thing that they said made me stop in my tracks.

“I can't believe that some kid vandalized the principal car! Apparently he wasn't able to get it clean or repair it. I heard it was a pretty expensive car too.” Grace whispered to her friends.
“Wait what, why isn't someone in trouble.”
“No one has confessed to doing it.

This whole situation sounded very interesting and I desperately wanted to ask more about what happened, but I also did my best to stay out of drama as much as possible. Besides, if someone really did vandalize the principles then she would probably hear of it again later. Then again she really did want to know more about this and Grace seemed to know quite a bit about this whole situation. I decided that asking for a little more information wouldn't hurt so I walked up to the girl and tapped her on the shoulder and said,
”Sorry for eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but hear what you guys were talking about and i'm intrigued. Would you mind telling me more.“
”Meh, it's not a big deal I guess, someone vandalized the principal's car last night and no none knows who it is yet They're like searching the cameras, but they said it might take a bit because they were having some problems with them. They should have the footage by tomorrow or something like that.“ she said shrugging. I wasn't completely sure why she was acting so chill about it all of a sudden, but I guess it didn't really matter.
”Anything I can do to help?“ I ask.
”No not really… actually yes there may be one thing.“
”What is it.“
”Well tomorrow morning before the first bell rings I'm going to got up to the office to talk about some suspicions I have about the whole ordeal and I'm kinda nervous. Could you like go up there with me.“ I wasn't sure why she needed someone to just stand there while she talked to people, but I shrugged.
”Sure I guess.“
”Great, meet me before school tomorrow in the library.“ I nodded and we parted ways.

Tomorrow I arrive about fifteen minutes before the bell. When I got to the library Grace was already there waiting. When she saw me she said,
”Oh your here, finally. I thought you had forgotten.“ I gave her a tight smile.
”Sorry traffic was rough on my way here.“
”Yeah, whatever. Come on I don't want to be late for class.“ We still had like ten minutes before the first bell and I was pretty sure that the office could just write her a pass, but I followed her to the office.

”I found out who vandalized the principal's car.“ I turned to her surprised. How did she mistake someone else for the principle? I watched Grace as she inhaled and said,
”It was Sofia.“
”WHAT“ I looked at Sofia.
”You didn't say you were gonna tell her-“ Grace interrupted me,
”SEE I TOLD YOU SHE DID IT!“
”NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT-“ The lady at the desk didn't look like she completely believed Grace, but my spirits sank and the principle walked into the room and it seemed he had everything.

”SOFIA, WHAT IN THE WORLD MADE YOU THINK THAT IT WOULD BE OKAY TO VANDALIZE YOUR OWN]PRINCIPLES CAR!?“
”It wasn't me sir I swea-“
”I'VE HAD ENOUGH.“ He sat down and put his head in his hands.
”You can leave now Grace.“ Grace smirked at me and skipped out of the office just as the bell rang. I moved to get up, but the principal shook his head.
”No young lady don't you even THINK about getting up and just going to class after what you just did.“ I groaned,
”I've already told you she's LYING I didn't do it.“ How could he be so STUPID. Sure, he must be mad that his car is ruined, but it's still a bit too far to believe Grace just like that. I mean first she says it's the principle and all of a sudden she says it's ME. I really let me curiosity get the best of me this time. Why did I have to butt in on Grace and her friends? If I hadn't I would be in class and NOT in the office missing class.

Suddenly someone walks into the principal's office.
”Sir we have the footage and we've found out who vandalized your car.“
”That won't be needed I have already found the person who did it.“
”But sir… I don't think that's the same person we saw on the cameras." I sigh with relief. They got the footage and now the principal would see who really vandalized. As the principal watched the footage his eyes widened and his face was of pure shock. He sent the guy who had shown him the footage to go get someone and he soon returned with a white faced Grace. My eyes widened. So it was her all along! No wonder she framed me! The principal turned to Grace with a look of disappointment on his face.
“Explain yourself.”

“I- I- I'm sorry” she sputtered.
“My grades have been really dropping and my mom said she would delete tiktok off of my phone if I didn't do better and I was just so angry.” she said and started to cry. “I panicked when I realized I had been caught on camera and I thought that if I made you think that Sofia had done it you wouldn't even bother to check!” The principal shook his head.
“That is not in any way acceptable. I'll think of a suitable punish for you later, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is your last day in these walls. Sofia you may leave now.” No apology? Whatever, at least I wasn't expelled. The lady at the front desk gave me a hall-pass and I started to head back to class. Grace wasn't the only one who had learned a lesson today. It's best to just stay away from drama because it really sucks when you get pulled into it.

July 6th Daily (511 words):

“Here,” my mom said as she gave me a necklace.
I stared at it and finally grasped it from her hands. It was a necklace with five gems on it. A ruby, a topaz, an emerald, a sapphire, and an amethyst. All of them were outlined with a thin border of diamonds. It seemed slightly worn and a tiny bit old, but mostly perfectly intact.
“What’s this?” I ask. I added in a chuckle, “and how much did this cost?”
“Well, this is the necklace of the sacred five gems,” my mom said. “And I’m not sure how much it costs.”
“Sacred five gems? Sounds like a fantasy story.”
“Oh it is. There is legend about this mysterious pendant. But it is true. Our ancestors have passed this necklace for thousands of years. Put it on.”
I hesitated slightly before putting the necklace over my head. They shined and glittered, and a wave of energy went through me.
“Our family are the guardians of this legendary item. Once given into the wrong hands, and who knows what can happen. When the child is at the age of twelve and a half years old, we pass it on.” My mom explained. And in a stern voice, “Do not take it off. Do not show anyone this. Do not say anything about it. Do not write anything about it. Do not do anything that would get people to know about it other than me. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“Good.” My mom stated and left it at that.
The next few days, I admired the gem. However, an urge kept on making me want to share it. It is also making me distracted, and my friends are getting concerned. My mom said to not share it, however, it is harder than I would have thought.
I lived with life, yet everything became harder by the mere second. I couldn’t even tell my annoying sister. “Why do I have to do this?” I thought. “Why can’t I just have my sister have it?”
Falling onto my bed, I thought very hard about the gems. They were beautiful, indeed. But they started to ruin my life. Then, a wave of energy went through me again. Focusing on the gems again, the same wave happened. Every time it waved, I felt better.
Still, a little bit of frustration was inside. “Why me?” I thought aloud. “Why do I have to do this?”
Then my mother came into my room. A loving smile spread across her face.
“Honey, it’s okay.” She spoke. “It is a family legacy. I can tell you are a super gifted kid. Use the gems. It is going to help you in the future. Wait and see.”
I focused on the gems again. This time, it made an orb of beautiful light, shining like the shine of the diamonds. It shocked me, while the smile on my mom’s voice grew even bigger. I looked down at the gems. And I smiled.
Whatever is up ahead, I’ll be ready. My adventure has just begun.

destiny - 382 words

note: i'm a poetry noob so awkward parts this is part of a word crawl i'm doing

a feeling of chaos beating at my tongue
viciously pounding at my heart
after the day's end, exhaustion burns the lungs
when we close our eyes we awaken to a start

of a new beginning we see with our eyes
where towers of gold enchanted from the grounds
sing incantations of where and what spirits lie
ancient spirits bar their teeth, awakening sounds

i hear the drum beating, skipping a beat
red and lively it breathes
fresh and livid, craving it's own feat
the mumbling of the ancient legend brings me at ease.

as i bite my tongue towards decisive victory
a part of me wonders:
what triumphs disguises, revealed as scrutiny
what can stop me from fearing the incoming thunder?

i heard our victories were all myths
lies scratched, carved in ancient stone
if we follow in a trail of illusions, who are we: siths?
yet i can't help feel god's beat in what we must atone.

i've wished so hard
wishing on rocks and moons
beaming in the falling stars
and the falling wind whispering its own tune.

what hides behind starlight is a symphony
a string of sounds revealing the secrets of eons
where sweet lullabies heal sick melodies.
the world we know of death and decay lies beyond.

is there an afterlife?
a place after death
burdens cleared, free of strife
or is it a barren land of nothing left?

sometimes i wonder too hard
staring up at two words and looking for the meaning
while i examine through all the shards
missing the pieces right in front of me- quite demeaning.

how do i keep up the rhyme scheme
and rhythm that does not ride along to?

the internal wanderings of a musician– the beat?
is there a beat, a melody
hanging in the air, slumping in its seat
another element to the piece, a harmony.

there is a destiny here
lingering in the air, waiting for me
was this a scripture, if so please pluck my ear
or a fate written in story books that was meant to be

viciously waiting for victory
a moment in the madness before a celebration.
if i could always wait for the accusatory,
rotten in caskets, thinned bone to bone: this is my revelation.

it's my time to take victory.

WEEKLY 1 - 2971 words total

PART I - 763 total words

621 word scenario + 142 character sheet answers in full sentences

– character sheet –

Celaena Sardothien - character sheet (book 1)
Series continuing or ended? : Continuing (I haven’t read the others yet so this is set after the first book)

Pronouns - she/her
Sexuality - straight
Species - presumably human, though it’s not entirely clear at this point in the series

Strengths: extremely talented and well trained assassin, quick thinking and clever, kind hearted, perceptive, cheerful, independant

Weaknesses: is very reluctant to talk about and reactant to people bringing up her past

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

Tendencies -

Tends to keep everyone else out of things she does, and sometimes pushes them away, especially when it comes to her personal life.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving slowly

Tends to rely on a very small group of people, and is often unwilling to be open to anyone but them.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving slowly

Tends act on impulse, for good or for bad.
Improving or staying the same? : Improving quickly

Situations -

One of her friends gets hurt:
fury, anger, guilt (feels like she’s responsible/should have prevented it)
little to no awareness of others
Celaena will often spend a lot of time thinking about them, and contemplating her own involvement in the situation, hoping that they’re okay. She also often seeks to avenge her friend’s pain, through whatever means possible.
She will end up feeling incredibly guilty, and feel as though she needs to do something, anything, to make it up, whether or not it was actually her fault.

Wyrdmarks :
Determination, curiosity, dread
She keeps it to herself, choosing to share with no one
She’ll start worrying, and spent a lot of time thinking and researching them
Nothing, aside from anticipation and frustration

An upcoming test:
anticipation, confidence, determination
Plenty of awareness of others, especially dorian, chaol, and her competition
training, waiting
Passes the test with ease

“Your character is stuck in a shattering glass castle with their friends and not everyone can escape.”

—

Celaena jerks into consciousness, awakened by a sickening crackling sound that she can’t quite place. It seems distant, like the echo of a far off scream, resonating through the halls of the castle. She yawns, stretching out her arms just as the noise quotes. Wondering if she was just dreaming, she gets to her feet, gently slipping on her slippers. Crossing into the billiards room, she settles down on the piano bench, rubbing her eyes. The crackling shatters the silence, this time its cause crystal clear. The sounds of breaking glass. Rifthold is rapidly splintering into a million pieces, with no hope of gluing the puzzle back together.

—

Cursing, she sprints for the Fleetfoot, gathering his tiny body into her arms before making a beeline for her door. The moment she opens it, the piercing sound of screams fills her ears, pumping adrenaline through her blood. Nehemia. Dorian. Cha-

“There you are!” a voice shouts, and she whips around, having never been so glad to see the Captain of the Guard in all her life. As he opens his mouth, she holds up a hand.

“Maybe now you’ll see the sense in refusing to step a foot in that d*** castle,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Where’s Dorian?” The second she uttered his name, the look on his face told her everything. Cursing, she pushed past him, racing through the hall. These idiots. All this time, they’d laughed and teased her for her complete refusal to take a step in the glass castle, and look at them now. The castle was falling, and she was not letting her friends go down with it.

Celaena sprints through the final doorway of the stone castle, finally getting a view of the shards raining down above. A bridge crumbles, finally giving in the weight of the sea of shards piling on top of it, sending a fresh waterfall of broken glass to the ground. Nehemia, she knew, had the sense and the resources to stay out of the glass castle, and she had no doubt her friend was smart and resourceful enough to find her way out and away from the castle. There was no point in looking for her now.

Dorian. Her heart beat rose with the thought of him, knowing he resided in his own private tower, his living quarters at the very top. Scanning what remained of the castle, Celaena realized she had no idea which one was his. Cursing, she looked around, searching for someone who would know. A familiar figure ran towards her, and she cursed once more, wishing someone could have just an ounce of common sense.

“Nehemia!” she shouted, irritated as she was, happy to see the princess alive.

Her smile faded instantly as she saw the princess’s face. She was covered in blood, as if a hurricane of shards had rained down upon her, tearing into every bit of skin they could find. Failing to hide her pain, the princess half screamed, “Dorian’s still in the castle. Find him. Help him. I can only hope he’ll be a kind king someday.”

“No,” Celaena whispered, hoping she could trust her own words. “You need help. Chaol will find Dorian.”

Nehemia shook her head. “I love Eywelle, but my people will find a way to go on without me. You must save the crown prince.”

“No,” she repeated, her stubbornness rooting her to her spot. “Where are your guards?”

The look on Nehemia’s face was so heartbreaking, Celaena would have given anything to comfort her, if only they had time.

“Let’s go!” She screamed, just as a newly shattered wave of glass tumbled toward them, forcing them to run together, away from the castle, with only their prayers left behind to help Dorian.

PART II - 1068 words

412 character voice descriptions + 337 scence for kaz’s persceptive + 319 scene from cookie monster’s perspective

(I know we only needed two, but I wasn’t happy with the first two I made)

(103 words) Kaz is a manipulative, mysterious Barrel legend, known for his ruthless ways, his time and talent spent building up the Dregs, and his heist of the Ice Court. He carries an iconic crow cane everywhere he goes, and rarely gives a straight answer to a question. He is a notorious thief, lock picking master, and is confident in his abilities, as well as the abilities of his closest companions. He’s slow to trust, but trusts those closest to him with his life without hesitation. He says what he likes and does what he wishes, and has a notorious reputation for getting his way.

(106 words) Inej is a kind hearted Suli from a family of acrobats, and takes great care to do the right thing. She’s the one person Kaz always listens to, and the person he cares most for. She was brought to Ketterdam as a slave, and spent time enslaved in a pleasure house before being recruited by Kaz, giving her a strong hatred for pleasure houses. She’s gentle, quiet, thoughtful, and often reserved. Inej is insistent on her morals, and is not afraid to speak out when she feels something is wrong. She often refers to Suli proverbs, and while they are few, she values her friendships immensely.

(103 words) Nikolai is a too clever fox. He’s quick witted, and cunning, and away has a new trick up his sleeve. Born a younger son and * of the royal family of Ravka, Nikolai has constantly felt the need to prove himself. As Stumhound, he found freedom ruling the seas, and appears confident to others. He’s creative, and is coming up with new plans and ideas. He also feels a strong loyalty and responsibility to Ravka, and will do anything in his power to help his nation. He’s incredibly charming, not to mention manipulative, and has an enormous talent for appealing to other people.

(100 words) Cookie Monster is a kind hearted fuzzy blue monster that craves cookies endlessly. Despite his name, he’s incredibly friendly, though impulsive when within reach of cookies, particularly chocolate chip cookies. He’s very curious and inquisitive, and often asks questions about various topics. Cookie Monster will do anything for his friends, even give them one of his treasured cookies if it makes them happy. And of course, C is for Cookie, and that’s good enough for him. Cookie Monster finds a lot of joy in small things, in particular cookies, and is generally a very happy and extremely likable loving monster.

(319 words) Cookie Monster had been happily munching on his cookies, casually strolling around the Barrel, sharing cookies with anyone in need of pure joy when he had come across a magnificent place known as the Crow Club. He cheerfully wandered inside, wondering what he would find in a place practically buzzing with chaotic energy. As dozens of pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, Cookie Monster was oblivious to their confusion, simply calling out, “You want a Coo-kie?” When nobody answered, he frowned. Clearly these people, who were now staring at him in stunned silence, needed cookies. “Why so sad?” He asked, tilting his head to one side. Perhaps now was the time for a song, he had thought.

Taping his fuzzy blue foot on the ground to keep a beat, he began, “C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me! C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me! C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me! Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!” Smiling brightly, he looked around. “Why so sad?” he asked, wishing they would join him. “You there,” he said, waving to a dark haired teenager holding a crow topped cane, “come sing with me!”

To Cookie Monster’s great surprise, the entire Crow Club turned to face the boy, waiting to see what he would do. “I have cookies,” he added brightly, holding one out. At last the boy pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against with a glance at the teenage girl standing next to him. She smiled at him, and the dark haired teenager limped forward. Handing the poor guy the cookie, he smiled as his face shifted slightly, almost a smile. “Now what starts with the letter C?” he asked, tapping his foot once more.

The boy sighed, looked around, and shouted, “C is for Cookie!”

Cookie Monster cheered and smiled at the starring crowd. “Come on everyone!”

—

(337 words) Kaz looked up from dealing a game of cards just as the entire Crow Club had gone silent. Cursing, he had got to his feet, and wondered what all the commotion was about. Clearly something had gone wrong.

Each and every set of eyes in the gambling hall was staring at an innocent, oblivious looking fuzzy blue… creature. What in the world was this thing doing in his Crow Club?

“You want a cookie?” a voice called out, detaching each syllable from the others. So the monster talked, Kaz thought gruffly. And it was asking him, him specially, if he’d like a cookie. Was this some sort of elaborate prank? Silence echoed across the hall, as if the blue creature had taped their mouths shut. If only Kaz could do the same.

Then the infernal creature began tapping his foot, as if he was keeping a beat. And he started singing.

“C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me!”

Kaz tried not to cringe.

“C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me!”

What was this fuzzy blue ball of fur, and what was he doing here, of all places?

“C is for Cookie, that’s good enough for me!”

He grit his teeth, in attempt to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh, cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!” the thing concluded, at last.

Or so he had thought.

“Why so sad?” it asked, to Kaz’s great surprise and annoyance, to him. “You there! Come sing with me!” Each and every pair of eyeballs present turned to stare at him, watching for his reaction. If he did it, he was going to look like an idiot. And if he didn’t… he was going to look like an idiot.

“I have cookies!” the thing added brightly.

“I want a cookie,” Inej whispered to him before shoving him forwards. He sighed, and briefly shut his eyes as tightly as he could, hoping to block any memory of what was to follow, and stumbled forward. He refused to remember much more.

PART III - 720 words, excluding lyrics.

songfic (natural - imagine dragons), kidfic, hurt/comfort fic

–
Will you hold the line?
When every one of them has given up and given in, tell me
In this house of mine
Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me

Inej sighed. Nothing in her and Kaz’s household could ever be simple - between the Dregs, the barrel, and her fleet, their children’s lives could never be anything resembling normal. Barrel politics dictated that they were to be the heir’s of Kaz and the Dreg’s empire, yet no one would ever ask their children what they wanted. She admired Alaia’s charm and clever thinking immensely; despite being quiet, she was incredibly insightful, especially for her age. Kaz always said their daughter took after her, but Inej disagreed. Alaia took after her in certain ways, but she had Kaz’s calculating additude, and nothing would ever get past her watchful, perceptive eyes. She knew it all - the good, the bad, everything that came with who she was, and she went with it. Her ability to remain content was incredible, no matter what happened. She and Milo had been threatened hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, yet she’d always kept a clear head, choosing instead to comfort her brother. Milo, on the other hand, was precisely what she suspected what Kaz had been like in his youth. He was quite the chaotic child, always bouncing from one thing to another, no rhyme or reason to what he did. He was friendly, talkative, and cheerful, but often ruthless, and not afraid to push past anything in his path. She often wondered what his future held, as that boy had quite the talent for getting into trouble.

Will the stars align?
Will heaven step in will it save us from our sin, will it?
'Cause this house of mine stands strong

Kaz appeared in the doorway, forcing her to snap out of her thoughtful daze. “Hey Kaz,” she said, smiling and motioning for him to join her on their bed. As she saw the look on his face, her smile faded. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Looking completely exhausted was normal for Kaz, after all, he had a gang with the largest empire in the Barrel to run, but this was different. Inej had never seen Kaz cry, but he looked like he was about to.

“The kids,” he gasped breathlessly, “where are they?”

Frowning, she answered, “I just put them to sleep. Why?”

He just shook his head, looking at the floor. Cautiously, she reached for his arm, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. Even after all these years, he was often still hesitant to touch skin to skin, and by the look on his face, now was not the time to push him.

“Kaz,” she whispered softly. “What’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath, looking as if the very thought caused him more pain than she could ever know as he said, “They’re back.”

She frowned. “Who’s back?” she asked, as gently as possibly.

“Pekka Rollins. And his kid,” he whispered, shuddering.

Inej sighed, wondering what gave those two the audacity to come back. Surely Pekka still remembered the time she threatened to cut his heart out? Unless he didn’t realize that she was back in the Barrel after her years at sea. Or… no. She wasn’t going to go there quite yet.

That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey

Did Kaz know what she had done that night? She wondered if he would be proud or furious. In any case, now was not a good time to tell him. She could only hope her actions wouldn’t come back to bite them all.

“Hey,” she whispered, rubbing his back gently. “It’ll be okay.” Comforting Kaz was an art in its own right. He wasn't the sort to be easily upset, and certainly not one to show it often, but when he did, something was very, very wrong.

“The kids,” he whispered once more. “They’re safe?” When she nodded, he relaxed a little bit, and said, “We’ll pay Pekka a visit in the morning. Find out where his intentions lie. And make sure he stays far, far away from my family.”

When she raised her eyebrows, he added, “Better go to him than wait for him to come to us. It’s inevitable as it is.”

And you're standing on the edge face up
'Cause you're a natural

That was better. Kaz’s usual calculating self was returning, slowly but surely. He moved to get up, and she rubbed his back once more before letting him go. Looking back at her, in a rare gesture of affection, he whispered, “I love you, Inej.”

Poor Kaz, she thought. He’d built his life up from the ground, finally escaping the man he hated most, only to have him reappear in his life a decade later.

At least they had each other.

PART IV - 420 words, this one is atrocious

Moonlit jumped out of her favorite armchair in the Storyscape as some sort of alarm went off. It blared through her beloved library, stabbing her eardrums with a freshly sharpened knife. What was wrong? She’d never heard an alarm go off in the Rift before. In fact, she hadn’t even been aware that the Rift had alarms. Why would something not present in the physical world need one?

It was perhaps too late for that question, she realized. Smoke was starting to fill the enormous round room, and while she doubted her dreamself could be physically harmed, she wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Someone had had the audacity to commit arson. And they hadn’t just decided to burn anywhere, they were trying to burn her library down. Well, not today they weren’t. She was a Bearer, as much of a master of anyone could be of the Rift. The Rift was far too mysterious to ever truly understand, but there were plenty of patterns that helped define the puzzle, and she had learned quite a few tricks during her time spent exploring. She stomped her foot, so hard that had the Storyscape been a traditional library, she would have undoubtedly been scolded by the nearest librarian, and the flames vanished, not a speck of ash remaining to hint at their former presence. Her library was safe; that was a start. Now to catch whichever foolish arsonist had the ignorance to do such a thing.

Clearly they knew their way around the Rift if they’d managed to find the Storyscape, or perhaps they simply weren’t afraid to jump off a few of the Rift’s thousands, if not millions of cliffs until they found the right place. Either way, they were going to have the time of their life trying to find the way back out of the Rift. In all her time as a bearer, the fastest anyone had ever managed was a little over two weeks with little to no sleep or rest. No one already in the Rift would dare attempt to burn down the Rift - at least she hoped. She trusted her campers, and her fellow Bearers were bound by oath to protect the treasures of the Rift with their lives. That meant no arson within the Rift. As she poked her end out the door, she sighed. Apparently someone had just been roasting marshmallows, and a Rift wind up carried the fire a bit too close to her library. All that commotion for nothing.

July 6th Daily
Horoscope: Pisces
Word Count: 510

Friends Ashlyn and Charity were walking side by side along the sidewalk, ponytails swinging, on their way to the library. Ashlyn, normally bubbly and talkative, was oddly quiet, as she had been rather often lately. She had a lot on her mind these days, and sometimes it felt like she was trying to hold the weight of everyone else’s problems on her own shoulders in much the same way Atlas had held up the sky.
The figurative sky was growing very, very, very heavy.
Ashlyn looked over at Charity, hesitating. She really wanted to talk to her about everything, but she also didn’t want to if it could mean Charity would have to carry the same weight she was.
“Charity, can I vent to you?” She finally asked, making up her mind.
“Well yeah, you know you don’t have to ask,” Charity answered.
“Just checking. Thanks.”
And then Ashlyn poured her heart into a long rant. She told Charity about how she felt like she had to help everyone else, but she didn’t know if she could anymore. How she’d put all her energy into supporting someone, just to be brushed aside. How frustrating it was to have her advice completely ignored. How all she wanted to do was help, and people clearly expected that from her, but they just wouldn’t accept the kind of help the was able to give.
“Ashlyn, this really isn’t healthy,” Charity told her friend when she finished, shaking her head. “First I’m just going to go ahead and say that I’m honestly kind of mad at your friends right now. I’d like to have a good, long talk with them someday. But. Anyway. I know you care a lot about your friends; and don’t get me wrong, that’s a good quality and I admire that about you. But you need to find a balance.”
“I know, but I just… I have to help everyone. I have to hold everyone together.”
“You can’t do that if you let it completely drain you.”
“I’m trying to learn that. But it’s hard.” Ashlyn looked up at Charity.
“I know. The important thing is that you realize that.”
“Yeah. Thanks again, I’m sorry for bothering you with all this- again-“
“Shush. You’re not bothering me, you know that.”
Ashlyn just smiled, feeling some of the weight fall from her shoulders. It was far from gone, but it was better.
Deep down, she knew the only way she’d be able to help her friends was by finding a way to do so that didn’t completely drain her in turn, but it was so hard. Especially considering the fact that the problems in her life seemed so minor compared to theirs.
She also knew that she couldn’t make anyone take her advice; she could give it, she could support the person, but in the end their choices were up to them. She couldn’t control everything.
She knew all this, but it was hard to accept. But she was slowly learning, slowly improving.
Talking to Charity had helped.
It always did.

DAILY JULY 6

SIGN- LIBRA (This is the worst story everr don't bother reading)

(500 words)

This morning I woke up with a sudden feeling of restlessness. Great. A start to a terrible day. I tried to ignore these signs and decided to act like normal, but it just wasn't happening! I groaned and banged my head against the wall.
“WHY ME?” I screamed. “And why TODAY of all days?”
Today was the day I thought was going to the best. It was a Sunday, and it was absolutely great to get to lounge around. But oh, yes, the homework. It had bothered me all night, and even though I tried doing it till late night like other people, at 2 am I was drooling all over my homework.
Fate had turned on its fan. And I was being whirled here and there, like I was paper.
Maybe people would call it psychotic powers, but I would call it a lack of luck.
And just like I was being whirled, so was my homework. I don't know who turned the fan, but whoever it was, that person sent my homework whirling everywhere, and when I tried to switch off the fan, I realised it had stopped responding to the switch.
Like, WHAT!?
I tried to rescue my homework the best I could, but in the end I could do nothing. So I called the electricity department. But they couldn't do anything too.
Wow.
So much for the best day ever.
So much for lounging around.
In the end, I moved to another room and restarted my homework.
And then my tv stopped working, my phone wasn't getting any internet, and anything electric refused to respond to me.
I groaned in annoyance and lamented at my Sad Sunday. It had become crazy by this point.
I decided to call my best friend. Maybe she would help in solving my problem. I waited for a long while till she came. “Why are you so late?” I exclaimed at her, annoyed.
“Ah, ah,” She smiled. “Calm down, Lia, and tell me what's going on.”
I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “My fan isn't responding to the switch, my homework kinda sucks, I'm tired and MY ELECTRIC DEVICES AREN'T RESPONDING!”
She shook her head. “Oh, Lia, stop screaming. Deep breathe in, breathe out.” She smiled. “Well, I see your problem. What is wrong with your fan? What do you mean that it isn't responding?”
“IT ISN'T SWITCHING OFF-”
She looked like she wanted to slap me.
“I mean, it isn't switching off.”
“Well, did you call the electric department?”
I nodded. “And my phone, my tv or anything else isn't switching on.”
She thought about it for a minute. “Did you pay the electric bill?”
I realised then that I hadn't, and slapped my forehead.
“So thats it- the electric bill hasn't been paid.” She and I laughed.
I paid it as soon as I could. Everything was fine then.
Although…the fan still isn't switching off. I guess I'll just have to deal with my psychotic fan.

rift challenge, door ll

day 1 // 110 words

On the first day, I got a total of 9 tally marks. It was pretty hard to meditate since it was pretty noisy and I had just come back from sport (not sure if that was the reason though). The meditation I was doing was guided, but as I mentioned before, it was hard to focus. I had most of my thoughts in the first few minutes but after a while, I was really getting the hang of clearing any thoughts that came into my mind. I also tried focusing on my breath and it worked well, except for the fact that I'm bad at blocking out noise while meditating.

day 2 // 206 words

On the second day, I had a total of 8 tally marks. It started off the same except for the fact that it was a lot quieter. I was glad of that, but the silence also meant that I - being me - was going to fill my head up. In case you don't know me, I like to have something, in general, to think about so my brain is usually thinking about something which means I'm not good at clearing out my head. I tried to get in tune with the music, but I guess I wasn't feeling up to it today so it didn't work. Like the first day, most of my first thoughts were thought in the first few minutes. I slowly began to get into a rhythm of calming my thoughts and my mood. Focusing on my breathing was helpful too. My mood didn't change a lot during this process, though I did get a bit angry at myself while trying to focus. Occasionally my thoughts would escape and run to something random and I also didn't quite manage to calm all my tense muscles. My methods didn't change a lot, probably because I haven't done that much meditation in my life.

Daily - July 6th 2022

Sign - Cancer ♋️

—words :>

I sat in the congested physics classroom, my clammy hands shivering above todays worksheet. The AC was on, and so was the huge fan attached to the ceiling, but I couldn’t seem to control the amount of sweat that trickled down my face. My head felt like a chickens coop, all cluttered and tight as I stared at the swarming numbers before me. I just couldn’t seem to get any of the formulas, nor the common sense in the math I was staring at. I could only vaguely remember some mantra my teacher had taught us back in sixth grade- newtons laws of physics? I shook my head, frustrated. I so very desperately needed help to solve all of the questions before class ended, but something was constantly stopping me from asking help. I couldn’t seem to understand what it was. Was it the ball in my throat from the way I tried to control my tears? Or perhaps it was just that annoying rubber band in my brain the shaped my introverted self. Whatever it was, today it couldn’t even seem to give me the courage to ask the class teacher for help. i was ashamed- ashamed because we had gone over this whole lesson last week, yet I was too dumb to understand it- and I still am.

“Ooh, I see smarty pants finally met her competition,” a familiar, yet infuriating voice remarked behind me.

I groaned loudly, burying my face in my hands. Really? REALLY!? Did this have to be the moment when my worst academic rival had to comment about my clueless behavior? I unwillingly turned my head to face Jonathan, a boy in my class that I’ve always hated since the first grade.

“Wowww Jonathan, great timing..” I murmured sarcastically, wishing so badly that he’d just insult me and go back to work.

“Hey, don’t be a pig- you looked like you were going to barf a second ago, kinda looked like a pig-pufferfish cross hybridization.” He joked.

“Ugh, like I would need your sympathy, and I AM NOT a PIG!”

“You are though..”

“I’m not!”

“Are too!”

“Can you just shut up!”

“Keep dreaming princess, that’s never gonna happen.”

“It’s Siri. Not pig, not princess, not anything else!” I snapped at him.

“Geez, alright- I was just gonna ask If you needed a hand on those questions- seemed like you were having a hard time.”

I froze. So that’s what he went through fifty minutes of insulting me for! Although weirdly flattering, I couldn’t ask for help. Not from him anyways.

“I wouldn’t need help from an imbecile like you..” I stated coldly, even though part of my wanted to scream ‘YES YES YES PLEASE I’M GOING TO D!E SOON IF YOU DON’T HELP ME-‘

Jonathan shrugged, a twinge of disappointment flicking through his face. “Eh, your call,” He muttered, slumping back in his chair, already finished with all five pages of the worksheet.

I turned back, feeling guilty for not accepting his help. If an academic rival like him was offering to help her with academic problems, maybe it had good intentions…?

Mustering up all the courage and shame that was left of me, I turned back, and staring at the floor, whispered- “C-can you help me with number four?”

At first I heard nothing, just the chitter-chatter of the other students in the room. Then came a snort, then a laugh. I tried not to laugh myself- partly from shame, but a small smile escaped my lips as well. Looking up at Jonathan, my smile ironically widened. He grinned back at me, then snatched my worksheet from my desk.

“Alright smarty pants, I guess I won the physics race of 10th grade!” Jonathan commented, then looked at me seriously. “Look, I know we’re not ‘friends’ or anything, but although we race academically, you don’t need to be afraid to ask help.”

Daily for Fairy Tales // Words - 252

There she stood, her hands bound by thick, silver handcuffs amongst people unlike her. Her pale blue nightgown stood out against the bleakness. “Ella Tremaine?” She flinched as her name was called and stepped forward. Her guard stepped forward with her tentatively.
The scanner who called her name pulled out a small silver device radiating a bright green light. She watched, motionless, as he moved it up and down around her body. It made Ella uncomfortable, but she had to deal with it. Struggling would make the whole situation worse.
Three days ago, Ella had tried to kill her husband, Prince Kit. She was charged with murder and stripped of her royal title, then thrown in the dungeons. Kit spared her a death sentence, but something worse was given to her as punishment.
Every year, all the new fairy tale characters were sorted into their factions. There were four - Royalty, Villains, Merchants and Disposables. When Ella was born, she was placed in the Merchants faction for most of her life, but soon made her way up to Royalty, with Kit. Her stepmother and stepsisters were thrown into the Villains faction, leaving Ella safe and sound with her new love.
The Royalty faction was said to be a dream, but Ella soon realised not everything was perfect there as well. The Royals lived in constant fear of being demoted to a Merchant, a Villain, or a Disposable. Kit was always wanting Ella to be perfect, and it would get too much for her.



❛ skye ❜
fairy tales for the win!
(this is a work in progress <333)

༺═─── daily 6 ───═༻

scorpio :cowboy:
“there is little sympathy from others,”

༺═── word count; 581 ──═༻

When Liam was six, he asked his parents for a scorpion. It was only to be expected that they denied his request, but he took is with a heavy heart, curling up on his bed and crying for a solid hour.
When Liam was seven, he went outside to find a multitude of bugs on the porch. He named them all, (Jester, Jack, King, Queen, Club, Diamond, Heart, Spade and quite a couple more) and they entertained him for the entire day with their little antics, scurrying back and forth with crumbs Liam had scattered for them. He decided that he preferred bugs to people.
When Liam was ten, he threw a tantrum when his parents invested in bug repellent. He sought to isolate himself from his parents.
When Liam was twelve, he found the first human that he liked, but she hurt him. He always was hurt.
When Liam was twenty-two, he was a villain.

It didn't come as much of a shock, but he moved out of his house, robbed a bank, (thus starting his career in villainy), and bought a nice suburban home where he could live contently with his friends, the bugs, bees and beetles. He decorated the walls with ant farms and bug hotels, smiling all the while, and then decided that he himself could train his bug-friends to help him get back at those who had hurt him in the past. The bugs didn't object – they couldn't.

When Liam decided that he would get back at his parents, he did not hesitate. He sent termites to destroy their house and then showed up at their front doorstep, leaving a single letter on green paper, "It's funny now, ain't it?“ (It wasn't).
When Liam decided that he would get back at his first friend, he did not hesitate. He wandered on the streets of the city she lived in until he found her address, and showed up at her door, laughing, and pinned a letter on the grey, ”You're hurt, now, aren't you?" The notes were made with newspaper cuttings and a smile on his face.
When Liam monitored that girl and found that she was not at all bothered, he sent the bugs to her apartment and told them to make her life miserable. He found that she liked bugs, and gave them their own nook to live in. Perhaps that was why he had liked her?
When Liam discovered that he had encountered a significant loss in the numbers of his bugs, he was angered to find that they had betrayed sides. He sent her a can of bug repellent with the sign, “They're traitors.”

But the rest of the bugs left soon, too.
When Liam got the courage to go and speak to her, she had a pleasant smile – Liam always noticed the smile – and didn't remember him. She did not mention a colony of bugs, ants, beetles and bees plaguing her apartment. There was no signs at all in her apartment. When he asked her, she said, “Bugs are nice, but they belong outside. I brought them there.”
When Liam doesn't know what she means, he doesn't bother with villainy. He sells off his house and opens a shop.
When Liam and her stop talking, he finds no sympathy in glaring blue light or the demands from his parents.
When Liam decides to leave the city, there is nothing stopping him.
No one had sympathy for his bug friends.

Day #6

I used the Aquarius prompt.
Disclaimer - I went pretty far off topic, which happens a lot when I use vague prompts.

“Well? What do you think?” they ask.
I hesitate. Honesty is not always the best policy, but now I feel worried.
I stare at the contraption, wires sprouting everywhere, metal plates barely held together by Ray’s arms, and try not to sigh. I doubt it will even last the journey.
“Maybe I should take a look at it?” I offer, trying to sound more helpful and less worried.
“No!” Ray says with surprising intensity. They have always been quiet and soft-spoken, for as long as I have known them.
“I just want to make doubly sure,” I say slowly, “You can never be too careful.”
There is doubt in his eyes, and I see that they don’t believe me. They hug the machine closer to them.
The truth is, I’m almost certain the machine won’t work. None of Ray’s do. I indulge them, because they’re always so enthusiastic with helping me in the workshop, and because I taught them everything they know. But this time is different. This time our survival could depend on their machine. Which probably won’t work.
“Come on,” I wheedle, “I’m only cross checking.”
“Fine,” hesitantly, they release the machine and take a step back, “But don’t change anything, ok Dia?”
“Uh-huh,” I say absently, squinting at the machine. It’s even worse than I thought. Sure, it might survive the journey and it might send a signal to earth or the station, but then it would probably blow up in our faces. It’s not just a failure, it’s a liability.
But I’m not sure I have the heart to tell Ray that.
“Look-” I start.
Then we were plunged into darkness.
Back on earth, power-cuts were nothing. A mere annoyance. But out here, on a remote colony on a red dust-ball planet, they could mean the difference between life and death.
Instinctively, I reach out for Ray’s hand.
“Solar flare?” they ask.
“Maybe.”
We sit there, in absolute darkness.
Then the emergency lights come on. Ray’s face looks old and gaunt illuminated by the red glow. I jump as their radio crackles to life.
“Ray? You receiving me?” the person on the other side of the radio asks.
“Loud and clear. I’m on B-deck,” they respond.
“Get to the Control Center, now! Is the comm finished?”
“Yes,” they say, avoiding my eyes, “I’ll be right there,”
Before they can move to pick up the machine, I start my own radio.
“This is Dia,” I see Ray’s surprise out of the corner of my eye, “What’s the emergency?”
“Just tell Ray to get to the Control Center! We need that machine.”
“But-” I swallow, “How much time do we have to contact earth?”
“No chance of earth. We need assistance within the next hour.”
“So we contact the space station and ask for assistance.”
“Affirmative. Now get the comm.”
I force myself to look Ray in the eye. I wanted their invention to be a success, and I know that they deserve the credit. I’ve spent my whole life telling them that they would be great someday, while showing up and doing everything they do better.
But I don’t think Ray’s machine will work.
And it has to.
So for once in my life I’m going to be honest with them.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth in their direction, “It won’t work,”
Then to the comm, “Ray’s machine is a bust. I’m on my way to come up with something else.”
“Roger. Please hurry.”
I turn away, and leave, and I don’t look at their face again.

July 6th, 2022 - MC Daily

My horoscope (aquarius):
You're at a dramatic climax in your monthly emotional cycle today, Aquarius. It's possible you'll erupt like a volcano. Don't be ashamed of these emotions. Your feminine and masculine natures are quite connected and they're working harmoniously in order to express themselves to the fullest. Open the gates of communication, and let the stampede charge through.

“Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm.” I muttered rapidly as I stood in place.
I scrunched my face up, which somehow helps when I'm about to explode. All year, Jackie had bullied me. I had read my horoscope today, out of curiosity. It warned me of strong emotions, and told me to let them fly. I knew better, though. I'm not about to turn around and scream in her face. Not only would that be inappropriate, it would also be exactly what she was looking for, as huge reaction. Instead, I turned my frown into a smile, and walked off all peppily. I'd like to say that was how it ended, but Jackie wasn't done. It had started out innocently, Jackie becoming friends with my friend, Jenny. Then Jenny insisted we let her into the friend group. I'd always had my doubts, I knew Jackie was mean, but my other friends were in on it, and Jackie was present. I didn't want to sound mean, or dramatic, or even lose my friends! Looking back, I should've just declined, because soon after that, she was telling us what to do, what to hate, who to hate. I went along, knowing what she could do to me. But eventually I'd had it, I was tired of hating nice people just because Jackie told me to. I hung out with her enemies, I would hum songs she didn't like, and I would ignore when she said we had to go play basketball. She got mad, really mad. She ordered Jenny and our other friends to stay away from me, they weren't allowed to talk to me. And just like that, my life at school fell apart. I tried to make other friends, but nothing gave me what my old friendship once had. So there I was, with no close friends to back me up while I'm being bullied like this.
“What are you smiling for? You have nothing, isn't your life crashing down? You can't run from this, or pretend it's not happening.” Jackie snorted. “Besides, it's not like Jenny and our friends ever made you purposeful anyway. They probably never cared for you.”
“OUR friends?” I thought.
“They were your friends before they were MINE. You and Jenny aren't ‘our’ and you never were, because since when do you have friends? Since when did you care for anyone? You've always pretended that you liked people just to get them to do what you wanted.”
The look on Jackie's face was priceless, I smiled in my head. Then I realized that I had actually said that aloud, and not in my head like I had planned. Jackie stormed off, and I felt suddenly relieved, not burdened like I thought I would.
“I'm really sorry,” she mumbled. “I was just afraid- I would've stood up for you but I. . . . I don't know what I was thinking. I hope you'll forgive me”
Even after all that Jackie had done, and how little Olive had done about it, I forgave her. What else could I do? Who wouldn't be scared? And who else would apologize for that? I told my teachers about Jackie, and watched things change. My life, which had been a fallen castle, was being re-built by my real friends and family, and there's nothing more beautiful than that.

The End

Author's note: So, this might seem unrealistic, but it was heavily inspired by my own bullying experiences (as the victim). I tried to change the names slightly, and keep the narrator's identity secret. Also, I know I kind of drifted away from the prompt, but it was a bit loose anyway, and the character's rant was supposed to be the explosion.

+560 words

Daily 7-6

(540 words, could have written more but i was lazy lmao)

I clutched the letter to my chest as my eyes slowly blurred and tears began to run down my face, leaving marks that I didn’t bother to wipe away. I broke down into silent, uncontrollable sobs that I was careful to hide, burying my head into the blankets to muffle the sniffles. I couldn’t let them know my vulnerability, let them know that their mother, the only person they still had left, the only person who could still keep them standing, was crying. Like a loser.

It would break them. It would break us all.

“Ma?” I heard a voice quietly whisper. Scrambling to hide my tears, I peered up in the dark to spot a small silhouette standing in the doorway, barefoot, her dress shining with a pale white sheen from the moonlight that shone through the window. Putting on a smile, I hid the letter under the blankets and rose from the bed.

“Yes, honey?”

“I’m scared.”

“Are the others asleep?” I asked, patting her head, pulling away locks of black hair away from her neck, now drenched in sweat.

She looked up at me, her crystal eyes searching my face. “Yes.”

“Okay.” I hesitated, thinking of the letter buried in the blankets. “Come sleep with me.”

She smiled tentatively, her small hand giving mine a squeeze. “I want to go to the bathroom.”

“Go ahead.”

She let go of my hand and headed for the bathroom, leaving me temporarily alone. I stuffed the letter into the closet, underneath stacks of clothes to make sure my daughter wouldn’t be able to find it. After faltering for a second, I took it out again, placing it inside an old encyclopedia, one of the only books we still had at home that hadn’t been able to be sold off.

I settled into bed, facing the wall as I wiped off my remaining tears and took deep breaths as I placed my hands over my eyes, trying to help the swelling and stop the tears that still leaked out of my eyes uncontrollably. Feeling small hands circle around my waist, I turned around and swept my daughter into an embrace, stroking her hair and closing my eyes, feeling tears pool again involuntarily.

“Ma?”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

I hesitated for a moment, opening my eyes again, looking into the darkness. Everything seemed to be mocking me, even the shadows as they stood still, unmoving, silent. Everything seemed to be calling me useless.

Powerless.

Weak.

Coward.

“I know,” I whispered hoarsely, my eyes shining with new tears that threatened to spill out.

“I love you too.”

I held her hand in mine, patting her back with the other as her breathing slowed down into slow, steady breaths.

After a while, “Ma?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

I had no response to that. My lips were trembling, trying to hold my tears in, afraid that at the first sound, everything would break loose and I would cry like a little child in front of my six year old daughter, now behaving more like a mother than me. So I stayed silent, forcing myself to swallow the tears, clenching the blankets tight so that they wrinkled into a little ball.

“Also…”

“It’s okay to cry.”

Swc daily July 6h

The slow clinking of metal, monotonic music playing and the almost silent, muffled stomping of feet. I slipped through a maze of metal walls, quiet as a mouse. I inched through long hallways, hacked into safes and passed through a multitude of bullets, all that, but I was caught. Chained to the wall, with two guards, heavily armed, both circling around me. Examining my movements. I was too smart to openly pull my hand out, to even attempt it. It was impossible for me to do that, no. They would shoot me if I tried. I simply hung there, motionless. I dozed off soon. I slept for long, with no intention to wake up. Till I was dropped to the ground, one hand still in the chain, I opened my eyes to see a blonde man in a blue bodysuit fiddling with the chain. He looked down at me as my second hand dropped down.
“I’m Eric”.
I had nothing to do with this ‘eric’.
“Thank you” I whispered, till I left with my head high. To continue, only to be pursued further by that guy.
“You cant proceed further, it’s impossible, i’ve waited so long for a companion, and you came.”
“I have no intention to join you”
He shook his head and walked in front me, leading the way. I didn’t want to, but was forced to follow him. He was definitely going the right path, he had after all just knocked out two armed guards. He continued without a word, I did not attempt to talk to him again. At a fork, he said
“I’ve been living on this side, it’s an empty spot. You can go the other side, bit of exploration for you. If you’re strong, you’ll be able to advance into the next floor”
Without another word, he left. I walked my own way, I didn’t need help. I was a trained agent that was completely capable of working by myself, but a tiny voice in my head kept whispering
“You’ve been caught, take his help. He can save you in a pinch”
No, I wouldn’t listen to the voice. I would continue on my own path.
In front of me, I saw a marvellous sight, lasers arranged neatly, in a way that hardly anyone could pass, if they did, there was another equally hard shooting range. With robots shooting guns at you from every direction. I walked to the lasers. Hoping to complete them, but I fell. The alarm triggered, and I felt a hand grab me and pull me to the other side.
“Eric!”
Shh, there’s a shortcut to the robot army you’re trying to destroy.
“And you’re telling me that NOW?” I roared. “and how do you know about my job?”
“I got your phone, here.” He said as he handed it to me. We were still running, after what seemed like days of it, we reached a door.
“Behind this” he said.
“Bye Eric, Pleasure working with you”
I actually needed help, it’s true. I cant do everything alone

The ordering for this is as follows:
Dailies (from newest to oldest)
Weeklies (from newest to oldest)

Dailies

July 10th Daily | Wordle | 424 words
Words: Ghost; Later; Brand; Berth;

Oh jeez now I'm writing cheesy ghost romances

They called him the ghostwalker. It was said that at a time before dusk, he could be seen moving without walking and speaking without making a sound.
They branded her the firesinger. In life, she was a wonderful musical artist, bidding the elements to obey her whim. In death, a wanderer cursed to forever roam, trapped in a colorless world.

Mama's voice softly whispered the enchanting tale of two spirits lost in life and bound in death. Her voice weaved in and out of reality, creating a picture of a living story in our heads. She made it so that the least imaginative person could understand, could create an interpretation and feel the story illustrate in their head and beat in their heart.

The two were the best of friends in life, never leaving each other's side. Despite all the limitations imposed on them in society, they maintained a strong friendship which remained until the day they died. Through all their troubles early in life, him being a poorly-paid soldier and her being an impoverished musician's daughter, they later learned to support each other as needed, to trust the other to do the same.

I stifled a yawn as Mama's face shone in the gentle light. Lucy was already asleep, her brown bangs sticking like glue to her forehead. I gave her a wide berth on our bed. She insisted on sleeping in a bed with me, every night for fear of the dark and the monsters who stalk dreams.

When he was on his first mission, a guarding assignment to protect a foreign ambassador, hope seemed to enter their lives. He was rewarded handsomely for saving the visitor during a bandit raid. He could, for the first time, provide for his starving sister and best of friends. The three of them, as close as any people could be, lived a happy life yet, for years to come.

Lucy threw off the blankets with a kick. Sweat streaked down her forehead, leaving her rosy cheeks gently glowing by the lamp. Mama gently covered her, continuing her tale.

Tragedy struck one night, in a midnight raid on their cottage. Bandits distantly associated with the robbers he had vanquished earlier sought revenge, and they had it. Three graves were made that night, and two ghosts cursed to roam. The two's unspoken love was never spoken of, never fully realized. To this day, they still haunt the town, awaiting the time that their beloved might once again be found.

July 8th Daily | Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi | 441 words
Languages: French; German; Italian; English;

Jimmy walked off the plane with a smug smile on his face. I followed, more tentatively. Grinning broadly and opening his arms to the world, he let out a hearty chuckle. His enthusiasm and narcissism were hard to swallow. After a full two minutes of laughter, he finally turned towards me.
“I've decided your name for this time,” he announced, and I winced. I had been hoping to choose my own. “You will be Rebecca, after a dear friend of mine,” he yelled with glee.
“Hey, Jimmy? Maybe you should pipe down… there are other people listening,” I whispered, nervously glancing around.
“WHAT?” He yelled, then stormed off to the nearest bystander and clutched her arm. “And who do you think you are, to be watching others' private business? You are a disgrace to mankind, and-” I pulled him away. The child fell to the ground and ran away, crying hysterically.
It is the same, only the names will change

We finally made it to the hotel. Along the way, Jimmy had to stop to grab a burger, go on a quick shopping spree, and look at zoo animals. I was running out of patience, but he was so enthusiastic. Once there, I slept and he watched old sitcoms on TV until 4 am. It took him until nearly noon to wake up, and by that time it was too late to do any experiments. I, of course, was angry, but Jimmy was enthusiastic about being able to watch more television.
Every day it seems we are wasting

The faces surrounding us were bleak and angry. Sure, there were shows of false politeness, but even I wouldn't be polite to us if I were them. A man in a blue suit finally pried Jimmy off of the vending machine that he had tried to steal from. I thanked him, then drove Jimmy off to the car. The GPS read that we would arrive at 3 in the morning. Wonderful, I thought. At that point I would have insisted Jimmy drive, but he doesn't know how to.
Another place where the faces are so cold that I drove all night just to go home

I stepped on the gas. Jimmy had finally gotten us into some large-scale trouble. The man he had attacked lay on the ground, groaning. All it took was an argument about putting pickles on cheeseburgers, and I was now some kind of getaway driver. I glared at Jimmy, but he was too busy pulling pickles off of his burger.
I am a cowboy, on a steel horse on which I ride, I am searched alive or dead

“It's time,” I glared. Jimmy kind of half-heartedly nodded. I didn't want to wait a moment longer, so I slipped out the door and arrived on the roof. Our spaceship, silver and gleaming sat like an eagle surveying his domain. I stepped into the cockpit, and Jimmy finally followed.
Wanted alive or dead

July 6th Daily | Cancer | 503 words

It was hard going for the first half of the game. The other team, the infuriating Canines, were leading by 3 points, and we were still stuck at rock bottom. It really wasn't my fault. I used what Gwen called ‘the secret weapon’, and it backfired horribly and cost us ten seconds, but how was I to know she hadn't finished it? And then Gwen and Jack kept ordering me to give them the controls. Who do they think they are? I'm easily the best pilot in the team. Susan, our school's robotics coach, had said it herself. I was the only one who could bring the team to victory. I kept driving the robot, but it kept clunking and slowing down and speeding up. My driving code was wrong, but I had seen Jack tinker with it. He must have broken it. He didn't even know what he was doing! I finally managed to fling a ball into the net, at the same time a Canine driver got two. I glared at the kid, looking intently at the robot and moving it with flying fingers. He never even broke his concentration. Just above his head, the clock started to tick down. 70… 69… 68… With a minute left on the clock, we were irreparably behind. My fingers were getting sore from the controller. My legs tired from standing up for the 5-minute match. And my brain tired from the constant staring of my useless teammates.
“Fine!” I snapped. “Have it your way. You pilot the robot.” I stormed off to the concession stand with my last dollar bills. As I turned the corner, I saw Jack and Gwen looking at me in confusion.
“Tied for first place are The Canines… and The Gear-Cheeked Conures!” an announcer bellowed, stopping with confusion at our team name. I picked it myself… with no help from Gwen or Jack. Proving me less right, they had managed to bring us up to a tie during the last minute, which was really an extraordinary feat. They were okay at driving, and Gwen did finally get her secret weapon to work. Jack also fixed the coding that it turns out I broke. They had just… confused me when I tried my hand at coding.
“I'm… sorry. I shouldn't have tried to single-handedly lead us.” I muttered, staring at my shoes. And theirs. Gwen actually has some pretty cool ones, but I never noticed. I was always the domineering, self-appointed leader of the team. I actually never noticed anything about either of them, but they were pretty cool people once you got to know them.
It was hard going for the first half of the game. The other team, the infuriating Apes, were leading by 3 points, and we were still stuck at rock bottom. It was time for a driver change. I had been driving too long. It pained me to do so, but I finally handed the controller to Gwen with a smile and an encouraging word.

Weeklies

Weekly No. 2 (part one) | Main Article: Fake Current Events | ___ words

HEADLINE WHOOoooOOOooo
By John Sparrow
Skipping this for now

Restaurant Review: Laurent's Pies and Cakes
By Jack Keats

Weekly no. 1 (part one) | LotR | Scenario is 409 words

Sam Gamgee (books 1-3)
Series continuing or ended: Ended

Pronouns - he/him
Sexuality - straight
Species - hobbit

Strengths: loyal to his friends; encouraging; never gives up; mentally and physically strong;
Weaknesses: wary of all strangers; follows others and doesn't really get a chance to do something for himself;
General view on life (free, not hateful, hateful): free

Tendencies:
Tends to get very attached to some people
Improving or staying the same? : Small improvements

Tends to eavesdrop and help when his help isn't expected or particularly wanted
Improving or staying the same? : Improving

Sam woke in the middle of the night. The sky was as black as a pool of ink, stretched across the sky. As he awoke from a dream, a strange one, he rubbed his head with such confusion as not to rival his own when Frodo left. His closest friend and master. The one who saved the world and left it, along with dearest Bilbo and the amazing elves. Perhaps the only good come of it, he thought, is my Rosie. He smiled gently and the golden locks of his wife, then with quiet amusement at their daughter. She lay in a fitful sleep, trashing and groaning. She must have sneaked in, with the quiet dexterity of hobbits. It took him little effort to get out of bed, but quite a bit to keep from receiving bruises from the girl. Just as soon as he quietly set her back to sleep with her other brothers and sisters, he turned to the kitchen. A warm yellow glow came from within.

Two hobbits sat at the Gamgee's small dining table. They chuckled and joked with each other over a small cake, which very quickly became a few small crumbs.
“Merry! Pippin!” Sam cried, walking towards the two with a grin on his face. Pippin stood first, proclaiming “Sam Gamgee, good evening to you and a fine cake you had there.”
Merry was slightly more regretful. He seemed to have matured from his playful disposition during their adventures with the Ring. He nodded with a polite greeting. Sam, all the while, looked on in mild confusion.
“Good evening to you sirs, but what brings you here? At this time, no less?” he queried, looking Merry and Pippin directly in the eye. Merry started into his unblinkingly, but Pippin smiled awkwardly and looked to the ground.
“Things are not faring all too well over the Brandywine,” Merry finally murmured. He glanced at the window, looking into the black, endless night.

They remained talking for a while, Rosie later noted. From her spot at the doorway, which she stood at for hours, she saw Sam's face grow dark, then pale, and finally resolved. After a few moment's silence, when Merry and Pippin rose to leave, Rosie returned to the bedroom. Partially buried under the covers, she pretended to be asleep. Sam returned a few minutes later, shaking her gently to wake her up.
“Rosie,” he said, “Merry and Pippin need our help.”

Weekly no. 1 (part two) | Land of Stories |

Alex is a shy person. She doesn't have many friends, but is very close to her mother, twin brother, and now-deceased father. She often teases her brother about not being as academically inclined as her, but is accidentally indifferent to his feelings. She pushes herself to be better, but unknowingly pushes others along with her. She enjoys her studies at school and doesn't realize that her brother isn't a fan of school and has his own way of expressing himself. She likes to show her intelligence and sometimes uses two words where one will do. In general, she is very cheerful and optimistic, but is occasionally indifferent and a bit too ambitious. As the story progresses, she learns to get a little better at reading people and to occasionally just let go. (132 words)

Conner is generally a good soul. He's well-meaning, but often doesn't think before he speaks and gets himself in trouble. Unlike his sister, he has many friends and expresses his grief through jokes and stories. He doesn't do very well in school, and occasionally falls asleep in class. He talks like a normal person, but has a tendency to be funny when it's not expected. Upon entering The Land of Stories, he's mainly searching for a way out but learns to love it later in the book series. Beneath his usually lighthearted, cheerful exterior, he's pretty clever. He's very close to his family, and while close to his father also tries to cheer up and support his mother and sister. As the story progresses, he starts developing a knack for writing and earns the approval of teacher-turned-principal Mrs. Peters. He learns to be more responsible but doesn't lose the bond with his family. (153 words)

Introduction (124 words)
The sun slowly set over New York. Alex Bailey sat on a rooftop, mournfully looking over the destruction she caused. Moving slowly, not to startle her, Conner sat beside her. Alex glanced at him with a sad smile, and took a deep breath.
“I can't believe I did this. It's so out of character and I should have been able to resist. I should have been stronger. I should have-” Conner awkwardly patted her on the back. Alex sobbed into the palm of her hand, shuddering breaths shaking her body.
“Alex, nobody could've stopped the curse,” Conner answered. He gazed into the distance. “Well… dad did. He broke the curse, eh?”
Alex truly smiled for the first time that day. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

Alex's perspective (326 words)
As Conner pulled me into the beam of light, I felt the anger inside me fizzle then fade. The anger for not being able to protect Mom or Bob or Conner. The anger and the worry that they were probably at the mercy of the Literary army. The anger that I simply wasn't good enough, not powerful enough, not strong enough to save the Land of Stories from destruction. The anger that I wasn't able to protect Grandma. Or Dad. I finally got to let go of all those worries and frustrations.
“I… I… I feel normal,” I said, ecstatic. “Conner, you broke the curse! How did you make it go away?” I looked around in a daze, elated beyond relief just to be free.
Conner shook his head and my hopes fell into my stomach. “Unfortunately, it's not over yet. You're still cursed–it just can't affect you in this story. I wrote about a world where curses don't exist.”
“It's nice to have a clear head again, even if it's only temporary,” I replied. Secretly, that ball of worry and anger was still there, but it was suppressed. Not gone, but in hiding for now. “If we don't find a way to break the curse, I should just stay here.” At least here it's safe. I can't hurt anybody. “What kind of story is this?” I asked, curious about the world I might be resigned to stay in. Conner hesitated for a few seconds.
“It's sort of a speculation piece. I wrote a story about what our lives might be like if… well, if we'd never had a reason to move out of our old house.” My eyes grew wide. It couldn't be. There's no way he could bring people back… but maybe Grandma's potion could.
“You mean…” I asked, bewildered. I couldn't finish my sentence, too excited and nervous to know if he really could do it.
“Maybe. Let's go inside and find out.”

Conner's perspective (357 words; grammatical errors, spelling inconsistencies, and high word density cases are intentional to fit the character)
A wind wrapped around me and Alex. My story was short, but to the point. Sure enough, Alex's eyes stopped glowing and her hair stopped flowing. She started looking around her. All I thought was that she has to be okay. If this doesn't break the curse, then I have to do her request and… and… and stop her. And help her return to magic and stay with grandma and dad and meet grandpa and all the other people and look down at me while Mom and me are grieving. She doesn't know how hard it would be for us. It's stupid to accuse her of being selfish, but that's what she's doing. She's sacrificing herself but offering us as side sacrifices.
“I… I… I feel normal,” she said. She still sounded daze-y but definitely looked better. At least she wasn't trying to blast me past Mars. “Conner, you broke the curse! How did you make it go away?”
I snorted and shook my head. “Unfortunately, it's not over yet. You're still cursed–it just can't affect you in this story. I wrote about a world where curses don't exist.” That was the best explanation for what I wrote. At least, until she realized the real purpose of this whole story.
“It's nice to have a clear head again–even if it's only temporary,” she said. She didn't fool me. She was disappointed, but I tried not to show that I knew. I mean, she's the smart and insightful one, right?
“If we don't find a way to break the curse, I should just stay here. What kind of story is this?” she asked, and I paused. She couldn't stay here! When the story ended, she would get erased with the story. That couldn't happen.
“It's sort of a speculation piece.” I sort of muttered. “I wrote a story about what our lives might be like if… well, if we'd never had a reason to move out of our old house.”
This time it was Alex that paused. She glanced at me, tears in her eyes, and muttered “You mean…” very un-Alex-like.
“Maybe. Let's go inside and find out.”

Weekly no. 1 (part three) | Shadow and Bone | 724 words

Tropes: Backstory fiction; Soulmate (feeling a kinship); Canon compliant;

I wake up a few minutes before dawn. A cool breeze blows in from my window, gently chilling my face with the morning dew. In my stuffy room, it's the least the world can do to at least provide a small wind. Gently twisting my wrist, I manipulate the breeze to blow a little harder, a little cooler. These calm minutes before the hustle of the Little Palace are what I live for, what I stay here for. The minutes before the Darkling uses me, before the Queen demands anything imaginable, before those gossiping ‘best friends’ of mine start whispering juicy, and exaggerated, secrets.
My calm is interrupted by Nadia barging in. The door opens with a bang and slams into the wall. With a smug smile on her face, she stares at me.
"What are you doing, Zoya?“ she demands, shoving a lantern in my face. Still groggy, I glared as expected.
”Didn't you hear? The tsarevich is visiting all of us at the palace!“ Nadia gushes, feigning excitement and wonder. We aren't even all that close, and she is still completely transparent. Her emotions show plainly in her body language. I roll out of bed, also pretending. Life in the Palace is all fake while everyone pretends they are genuine. That is the Game, and I am the master.
”Wonderful,“ I answer blandly. Nadia circles me like a hawk, feigning and fawning. The calm is broken, and the Game continues.

”The mobs on the streets are overwhelming," Marie remarks. I briskly nod in agreement, then lean forwards as the tsarevich's carriage rushes forth. The boy inside, just a year or two older than me, stares forwards with a haunted expression. For the first time since arriving at the Little Palace, I feel sorry for someone other than myself. Someone who actually deserved sympathy. I have heard whispers through the Palace that he was illegitimate, not a part of the Lantsov bloodline. A pretender. A procession of royal assistants and other people follows. They wear pasted smiles with cheerful waves and sorrowful eyes are hidden behind a mask of kindness and goodwill. More fakes, more pretenders. More players of the Game.

Dinner is followed by performers playing instruments and dancers weaving through the crowds. The loud chatter of all the dinner guests is significantly muffled from outside, where the cool night air dances between the stars. I sit on a stone bench, carved in an intricate pattern. The Lantsov banners hang from each of the ten windows, and I make them flutter regally in the wind with a small arm movement. Almost as soon as I release the squaller, I feel rejuvenated. Ready to stomach the crowd of partygoers and Game players. I'm reaching to open the side doors to slip back in when they burst open. I jump back, bewildered, but pause and bow briskly when the tsarevich strides onto the balcony. Not glancing any way but forwards, he leans on the railing. I've seen the view of the town below many times, but I find a new appreciation for it in the dark, with lanterns shimmering in the dark and banners fluttering and festivities. The boy standing at the railing is not a prince any more, but a normal person. A tired, young person with an unseen world on his shoulders. He mutters a few reminders, likely small mannerisms in the face of the court. He's a player of the Game, not for status or respect but for the love of his family, for the approval of his father. And a good player as well. I returned to the party, leaving the tsarevich behind.

As I lay in bed that night, I think. About the world beyond just us, of having to earn the approval of a parent. Having to keep up the Game from day to day, constantly being watched by vultures waiting for a slip up. Having to go beyond expectations and to excel, only to be told that it's not enough. Nadia and Marie only want to learn, to get good enough at the Game that they can succeed as well. The boy, so that he can earn the approval of his father and the tsarevich so he can earn the approval of his people. The Game determines all their fates.

Weekly no. 1 (part four) | SWC | 410 words

The Zoom logo sticks on the screen a little longer than it should. After a full two minutes of waiting, a few people's voices start to crackle into my earbuds. By the time I finish loading in, Google Slides is flashing on the screen. Robin is explaining what the online writing club is all about, and we wait through the usual rules of ‘be kind’ and ‘don’t cheat'. A few latecomers join, prolonging the introduction more than it should take. Finally, Robin closes the meeting with a cheerful “get writing!”.

I tap my fingers on my keyboard, wondering what to write. The first prompt is to introduce yourself from a story, but sometimes those are hard. Most people end up bragging about their accomplishments or insulting their failures and it's hard to find a balance. Besides, you have to put it in story format which is always awkward. Of course, the prompt is optional. I can just go off and write a wild west cowboy story or a murder mystery novel. A dramatic play or a lighthearted musical. A fantasy world where the plants are orange and yellow unicorns dominate the Earth. I could even write an essay on the eating habits of whales and great white sharks.

I start typing random sentences as fast as I can, trying to find a story in these meaningless words. It's like a needle in a haystack. Words without any life, any heart poured into them. Empty words that aren't fully realized. I lean back in my chair with a resigned sigh. I again struggle with the question of following the prompt. I need to get writing, or my peers in the OW club will count me as a failure. Mrs. Lawrence has an English assignment for us, but my paper is still at school. I could write that novel I've been on-and-off working on, but the main character has gotten bland and it feels like a chore. I could rewrite it, but it's really old.

What to write?

My eyes light on the unfinished book series lying on my bedside table. Some new dystopian books by a writer who previously wrote historical fiction. They're actually pretty good, but really unfinished. The writer gave me a cliffhanger, and I swore my revenge.

But…

A cliffhanger doesn't have to remain a cliffhanger. The entire fanfiction genre exists for a reason. I stretch and open a new doc.

What not to write?

Sixth main cabin daily
Words: 548
Prompt: Pisces

There was so much pain.
So much pain.
You can't help them all.
But she had to try.
She could feel the pain, feel the agony so many others were feeling, and it broke her heart.
She had to try.
Her own life-force was strong, she could do this.
She had to try.
Kneeling, she rested her hands on a nearby man. He twitched and shuddered as a spark of her life-force entered his heart.
But he was only one person, and there were thousands still crying out, needing her help.
She wasn't strong enough to do it this way, and it would take too much time.
She needed a different way, a new way.
Remember, young one. You can only help so many before you yourself die.
Wiping away the crystal tears that splashed down her cheeks, she straightened.
This man, at least, would be safe.
She had to try.
Raising her head, she looked over the field.
Doubt crept over her.
How could she save so many lives, on her own?
She pushed the thought away.
The other healers hadn't showed up yet, and she worried about that. She desperately needed help out here.
But she couldn't wait.
There wasn't time.
Everybody has to die some time. You can't keep them alive forever.
Slowly, her hands clenched into a fist.
She would try.
She had to.
She drew out more of her life-force than ever before, and it surrounded her in a swirling cone of golden light. Her feet floated a few inches off the ground.
Never use more of your life-force than a few sparks.
Gathering the golden wave, she took a deep breath.
Then she released it.
It spilled over the field, washed over those who needed it so badly.
Those who needed to live more than she did.
But the first wave wasn't enough.
Not every life was safe.
She sent out another wave, and another.
And it wasn't until she knew that everyone would live, every single one, that she stopped.
There was only a flickering ember of life-force left in her now.
She had released too much.
No, she thought fiercely. It was never too much.
It was always worth it.
Always.

The news came later that the team of healers sent to help had been ambushed by the enemy.
Without the lone healer, every single person on the field would have died.
No one knew the name of the quiet little healer.
No one knew where she came from, or how old she was.
But they knew what she had done.
She had done something that saved them all.
Perhaps the soldiers, the captains that led them to brave victories would be told of more often, the stories with happy endings. The princes and princesses who fought for their kingdoms, the general who fought an entire battle by himself and won.
But there was one story told in the darkest places, the places without hope. The places where no fire burned, and sorrow was heavy in the air.
The story of one little healer who gave her life to save thousands.
The story of a small spark that burned like the sun.
It was never too much.
Ever.

Daily 7/6 (Sagittarius)
——
My house was a chaotic mess that day.
My parents fighting, my little sister crying, things slamming, glass shattering.
No matter what I said or did, I couldn't fix any of these problems. I felt helpless, like they were all slipping ever so slightly out of my grasp, to a place where I can no longer reach them. I spent the entire day locked in my bedroom, crying, crying, crying.
But as I glanced outside my window, I realized maybe what I needed was some fresh air, instead of being cooped up in my bedroom all day.
“Where are you going?” my little sister, Aqua, asked me. Her face was red-streaked from tears, and I bent down to her level to stroke the tears off of her face.
“Just outside to get some fresh air. You're welcome to come with me, sis.” I said, wiping a tear off her cheek.
Aqua paused for a moment, bit her bottom lip, and glanced over at the next room where our parents were yelling and throwing things. Then, she nodded.
“Come on, let's go.” I told her, holding her hand and leading her outside.
Once we were outside, I stopped to take a deep breath. The wind blew around me like a forcefield, pulling me in all different directions. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind–really listened.
Calm, it whispered. Always try to stay calm, and follow your heart, not your head.
I opened my eyes again, the wind causing my dark brown hair to cover my face. I swiftly brushed it aside and took another deep breath. I knew what we had to do, and it was far from ideal.
But…it was the right thing to do. Both for me, and Aqua.
So I pulled out my iPhone–which Mom and Dad bought for me last year, to make up for the fact that they missed my seventh-grade graduation–and decided to call my best friend, Crystal.
“Hey Crystal.” I said once she picked up the call.
“Oh hi Elissa. Is everything alright?” she asked.
I glanced at Aqua, then our house, then back at Aqua before I explained to Crystal everything. And I mean, everything.
After I was done explaining, I could hear Crystal suck in a breath on the other end of the line. “Honestly, I think you should do whatever you feel is right. For both of you guys. But if you're asking my opinion…I'd say you guys come crashing at my place for a while, at least until your own situation calms down.”
A small smile tugged across my lips–my first real smile in a really long time. “Oh my gosh, you- you wouldn't mind?”
“No, of course not! You and your sister are like family to us, Elissa, you're more than welcome any time.” Crystal promised.
Tears formed in my eyes, making them slightly misty. “I…I don't even know what to say. Thank you so much! Uh…let me just talk to my sister real quick, and I'll text you back in a minute.” I replied, then hung up.
I turned to face Aqua, the tears now slipping down my face. “How would you like to go live with Crystal for a while?” I asked.
“Away from Mom and Dad?” Aqua asked me, a hopeful look in her icy blue eyes.
“Yes. Away from them, at least until things get better.” I explained.
Instantly, Aqua nodded her head vigorously. “I'm in.”
I squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for such an amazing sister. “Me too, sis. Me too.”

July 6 Main Cabin Daily

I stared at my computer screen, wondering what to write. I've never been the person who cares about horoscopes– after all, it's not logical whatsoever and my parents don't like them either. My thoughts were drifting away from the prompt, to the comic I've been working on… mostly character backstories were running through my head. I looked at my prompt again– “Gemini.” Even though the idea of a horoscope never really intrigued me, I liked my sign. Gemini– the Twins. My sister's birthday is the day after mine, although she's two years younger than me, and when we were little we would sometimes share our birthday party– like twins would. I tried to think of a way that my mind was “buzzing like a bee”. Was there a project I was working on, something that was taking up all my thoughts? Well, I was working on redecorating my room, but I was close to finishing and I only had a few things left to do– the heavy lifting was already done. And my comic– the second chapter was almost done, too. This was probably the one of the slowest summers I've ever had. I laughed to myself again, reading the prompt. I had already done the “research”, and I had already “pulled out my wallet”. I wondered vaguely if I should work on my comic some more, then changed my mind. I had gotten a message earlier in the morning, reminding me to do the daily. I didn't want to let my cabin down! I continued the same way I had, simply typing out the words I was thinking. Suddenly, I had an idea– there was one thing that had my mind buzzing like a bee. It wasn't much, but still it was something. Me and two of my sisters were going through our annual bored-at-home Lego phase, and I had invented a new kind of Lego starfighter. I had to take apart my old ship to build it, which was sad, but the new and improved version was much better. I called it the AD-LIB– that's Advanced Lightspeed Interceptor and Bomber– and I was pretty proud of it. I even built one for my sister. After I had built it, I started to work on the pilot. I already had a flight suit and helmet, but I needed a face and hair. Finally, I found a suitable face– a girl's, from one of my brother's Jurassic Park sets– and after a while, I selected a hairpiece– bright red, with short hair that swooped gracefully near her eyes. Next step– name! This is always my favorite part of making a character– I held her up in front of me and waited for her name to pop up in my head. I focused on various parts of the minifigure– the wild hair, the kind smile, the blue flight suit… a name floated to the top of my brain. It was only the first name, but it was still perfect. “Zara,” I said aloud. It was a name I remembered from an article I read; one about how George Lucas wrote Star Wars. At some point in the middle of writing the story, he spontaneously decided to change everyone's name. He renamed “Annikin Starkiller” (the main character at the time) “Justin Valor”, “Wookiees”, quite hilariously, were renamed “Jawas”, and Leia gained the name “Zara”. The perfect name! The last name could wait– I felt I deserved a break for my hard work. I smiled at the minifigure, not minding that my sister was probably judging me silently.

July 6 In-cabin daily

My favorite genre to read? Ooh, that's a hard one… there's so many good choices! I do really love fantasy, though. It keeps me on the edge of my seat. Books like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, where anything is possible. Although– and you'll probably call me a nerd for this– another favorite book of mine is Star Wars. Not a spin-off story, the screenplay by George Lucas– and the other two Original Trilogy movies. I wouldn't call it sci-fi, because it's technically a ‘space fantasy’. Again, you're probably thinking I'm the nerdiest kid around, and you're kind of right. Still though, I would say fantasy is my favorite genre to read.