I have no idea what I'm doing-I've never used the forums before lol))

July 11 Daily:

        No…

        NO!

        How could this happen to her? After everything she'd done, after every sacrifice she'd made, why in StarClan's name would Cedarspring ever choose Sunshadow over her? Over her, who had loved him enough to tell him of her past and show him her curse. Over her, who had let him get close to her and allowed him into her heart. Over her, who had trusted this tom enough to let him make her smile and laugh and find joy whenever she had no one else. Over her, who had given every shattered, broken piece of her heart to this tom. This tom who had just chosen her greatest enemy over her.

        Silvercrescent let out a sob, stepping away from the scene before her, closing her eyes against the sight of Cedarspring holding Sunshadow. Of him telling her he loved her. Of him loving a cruel, heartless, selfish monster.

        Was Sunshadow prettier? Stronger? More confident? The pale she-cat took a trembling step away, breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. She had already suffered so much in this life. Losing her family, being cursed by StarClan to save the Clans, and Birdkit.. Oh, sweet, adventurous Birdkit. She had no one left. She had lost the one tom she truly cared about, the one tom that she had tricked herself into believing had truly cared about her. But no one did, did they? No one cared about her, and why should they? She was different. She wasn't like all her friends, she was destined for something so much greater, and that separated her from all of them. No one could understand her, and why would they even try? No one should have to suffer through the things she already had.

        The pearly she-cat turned and padded away, ears flat and brain numb. She just didn't understand. What had she done wrong? She had been so perfect for Cedarspring, and she had thought that he felt the same.

        Didn't she deserve something good in her life after everything she had been through? After every sleepless night spent crying, after every nightmare flashing in her mind's eye, after every cruel taunt and snide remark Sunshadow had thrown her way, didn't she deserve this small shred of happiness? Didn't she deserve him?

        But, she didn't want to think about this. She didn't want to think, or feel. She didn't want to feel the sharp edges of her broken heart tearing her up inside. So, instead of thinking and feeling, she walked. She walked and walked and walked. She walked until her paw pads were sore and bleeding and then she walked some more. She walked past the rising dawn sun and straight into the afternoon and evening. Eventually the tears stopped rolling down her face, eventually her body shook with fatigue, and eventually she could go no further and fell.

        The sound of her head hitting the earth rang loudly in her ears and her vision swam before her eyes, twisting the magnificent golden sunset before her into flames and laughing amber eyes. She didn't want to feel anymore. She didn't want to think. It only seemed to bring her pain and anguish, so why should she even give others that chance to hurt her? Why should she let these cats who could never compare to her power hurt her as much as they did? She was made for things so much greater than they could ever even dream of, and so she wouldn't let them hurt her again.

        Or at least, that's what she told herself as she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her. It didn't stop her heart from crying any less.

Words: 630

july 11 daily - emotional narrative without dialogue or thoughts
512 words

The girl opens the door, running out and onto the bus, a small but confident smile on her face. It drives through the neighborhood streets, gradually accumulating more and more passengers until it turns onto a highway and heads towards the school building. The smile on the girl's face - who is sitting with one other person - gradually grows, until she exits the bus and walks into the school building beaming. She walks down the hallway and stops to look at some flyers stapled to the wall. She grabs one and runs off to show the person she sat with on the bus. They both nod, and then the girl puts the flyer back into her bag, takes out a few supplies, and walks into a classroom with a dozen other people.

A half hour later the girl walks out, clutching several new papers. Her smile is still there, but it seems a bit smaller and less confident. A few other people exit the same classroom she was in and she quickly walks off, heading to her next class. Before she goes in she takes out the flyer in her bag for a minute, looking it over, then puts it back in and enters the room.

After her second class is over the girl walks out of that classroom and into a hallway, holding another stack of papers. The smile, though still there with no noticable changes, has shrunk yet again. She takes out the flyer again, looking at it with a hint of melancholy in her eyes. The person from the bus came again and they started to talk, gesturing to the flyer and the rest of their papers. As the next bell rings the girl walks off again, still smiling. Her eyes, however, kept that same look they'd had when looking at the flyer.

Two classes later, the girl heads to the cafeteria for lunch. Her load of papers has doubled, and her smile that was once wide and beaming is now barely visible. She sits at an isolated table with the friend she had talked to earlier, and they talk again. The girl shows her friend the flyer, then the stack of papers, then looks over towards another table where a larger group is sitting and laughing. They eat the rest of their food in silence, and walk off with sad and uncertain eyes.

More classes pass. The girl gains more and more papers, and the smile does not show any signs of returning. As she leaves the building and gets on the bus, she sits by herself, staring at the flyer and then the other, much larger, stack of papers. As she exits the bus, she glances over at her friend one last time and shakes her head. She heads inside, not wasting any time, setting down the papers on a table and taking out a pouch of supplies. The flyer lays discarded on the other side of the table; the girl only gazes upon it one last time, and that is to pick it up and rip it.

July 11 Daily
504 words

In the chilly air, her pale face was strewn with tears. She kneeled onto the snow and put her numb hand on the cloud-colored fur of the motionless cat. Her breath came out in smoky gasps. She looked back up at me and shook her head.
She stayed next to the cat, never leaving its side. She sat there for many minutes, but time was meaningless. It could have been hours or a few seconds.
As she sat there, her head in the fur as tears rolled down her cheeks, the light sky turned gray. Low thunder rumbled in the sky. The temperature dropped many degrees. My lips started to turn the shade of blueberries left in the freezer. Nature was getting worse around this mournful scene, though everywhere else, nature was just fine.
She got up from the lifeless cat and brushed the snow off of her coat with her hands. She came forward, sniffed the sadness away, and held my stiff hand.
Both of us looked around in the distance. There was just endless snow from all sides. We were like ants on a giant, vast terrain.
We started to trudge through the snow. Our feet sank deeper into the mushy ice with every step.
The amount of time we were walking for could have been hours or a few minutes, but again, time was meaningless at these moments.
Once in a while she would sniff. The tears in her face were now gone. The tiniest bit of water was now frozen on her face, making it crisp and pale.
The wind was getting bitter. Our faces were more red and pale every time it blew a strong gust towards us, temporarily drowning out any noise and replacing it with the sound of strong wind.
We walked to the point where each step was slower than the previous. The footprints behind us became covered by the snow only a few seconds after we made it, so there was no trail back to where we came from. The cat was now forever lost.
The clouds overhead became darker. The blizzard became more thick and frigid. The snow came to our waists, making it almost impossible to move anywhere. My fingers started to turn into the same shade of my lips; frosty blue.
She collapsed onto the snow. First, her hands stopped her from falling all the way, her face only a few inches from the snow. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Then, barely after a few seconds, her whole body crumpled into the snow. Her lips and fingers were just as blue as mine. Frost had gathered on her nose and around her eyelids, which were now closing.
I crouched down next to her and put my numb hand on her heart, just as she did to the cat. I stayed next to her for a couple of minutes which could have been a couple of seconds, then got up and trudged away.
Just like the cat, she was now forever lost.

Weekly 2
Part one (807 words):
Crime report.
It was a Saturday, on the 9th of July, 2022, when a couple of chickens were stolen from Birdi, aged 15, at her residential home. She wasn’t clear on when the chickens were stolen, but she definitely saw that her precious little chickens were missing at around 4:00 in the afternoon, precisely when she was out for the day to go to a writing camp.
“I miss my little chickens,” Birdi replied miserably when questioned about the robbery. “They are one of the favourite things I own.”
When questioned about the writing camp, Birdi replied “I was at a writing camp called Scratch Writing Camp, or SWC for short. It’s a camp where you write your hands off to earn your cabin points through daily activities, weekly activities, and several other fun things, such as being warred to write. It was a Cabin Wars day, so I went to the camp to pin up the new cabin totals.”
Birdi was questioned about her length of duration at the camp site. “I was there from approximately 6am to 3pm, then I helped out on some stuff, and then I went back home at around 4.”
“What did you do next?” A reporter asked.
“I went around to the garden to feed my precious little chickens, when I realised they were gone! All that was left of the disaster were a few, light brown feathers,” Birdi said. “I didn’t see who did it. I would assume that I was out of the house when the chickens were stolen.”
“Were the chickens there in the morning?” A police investigator and crime specialist asked.
“Yes! They were! I counted each and every one of them in the morning before I left. I even counted the chicks! And now they’re all gone. All of them!” Birdi replied firmly.
Police investigators left Birdi’s house to go to the writing camp she was talking about - it was only a few streets away. They stopped at a rather clean campsite, with a campfire crackling and several other people hobbling about, talking and laughing.
One by one, the police investigators interrogated each person one by one with a lie detector. They asked about where they went throughout the day, who they were with, and what they were doing.
“I was at the writing camp for the whole day. I was with the other campers. I haven’t left, nor visited anyone’s house in the last couple of days,” a camper replied, their hand strapped to the lie detector tool. They were visibly shaking as they were giving the answers. Once the lie detector didn’t buzz nor flinch, the police investigators crossed the suspect off their list.
The police investigators decided to interrogate another person, who was eating mangoes with a joyful look on their faces.
“Where were you today?” a police investigator asked.
“I was at the writing camp the whole day,” the person said while their hand was being strapped to the lie detector. “I’m one of the hosts in the camp.”
“Who were you with?” he asked, writing down notes in his notebook.
“I was with the other hosts,” the person replied, chewing the mango. “Writing as per usual.”
“Did you go anywhere?” the investigator asked, looking up from his notebook.
The person paused, before saying “No, I’ve been at the writing camp for the whole day.”
Once they finished, the lie detector buzzed and beeped, glowing red.
“N - no! That lie detector is faulty! I did not go anywhere today!” the person yelped, trying to unbuckle themselves from the lie detector. “I promise you, I didn’t!”
Just then, a girl came running into the scene. “HI! I SAW SAWYER GO INTO BIRDI’S HOUSE AND STEAL THE CHICKENS!!”
“NO I DIDN’T,” Sawyer pleaded in protest. “I PROMISE YOU I DIDN’T!”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” the investigator announced.
The girl, whose name was Vee, said “No, I saw you walk straight into Birdi’s house! And out with the chickens!”
“NO -”
“Vee, do you know where Sawyer put the chickens?” the police investigator asked.
“Yes,” Vee replied.
Further investigation ensued, and it was found that Birdi’s chickens was stolen from her house by Sawyer, and placed in a cage in the place where Sawyer did their host-y business. The chickens were treated in extremely poor conditions. They were found to have their feathers ruffled and fear in their eyes.
Birdi was glad to see her chickens back in her garden. “I’m just furious that a fellow host betrayed me!” she said to the reporters. “We were supposed to work together!”
Meanwhile, Sawyer, aged 14, was charged with theft, animal cruelty, animal neglect, and for eating too many mangoes during the questioning, resulting in 100 hours of community service.
“What, now it’s illegal to eat mangoes?!” they demanded as they were forced to clean up the campsite.

Part two (804 words):
Review of the movie Minions: The Rise of Gru
When thinking of a family friendly movie, you would often first think of PG rated movies - such as Frozen, Coco, Up, and all those Pixar and Disney classics. You might also think of those old Disney movies as well, such as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty, and even Pinocchio. If those don’t spring to mind, then I don’t believe you - either, you’re lying, or you lived under a rock. Although, there have been some releases which were hits for a while, then completely forgotten about, such as Ferdinand (a movie about a kind bull), and Ice Age (a movie about animals in the ice age with multiple sequels). One of these many few movies which have been swept under the rug, forgotten, for the past few years, are the Despicable Me movies and spinoffs. Illumination’s new release: Minions: The Rise of Gru is a movie that perfectly captures the childlike dreams of a child, as well as adding some cute things into it as well (such as Bob!) There are multiple parts which are pretty well made, and the animation’s pretty good. The movie seems like definitely a filler, though, but it’s a good movie for if you want to sit down with your kids and siblings and watch a happy, not violent, and funny movie. Overall, it’s a nice movie.
If you’re interested in a movie with bright graphics, really, really nice animation, and with a touch of cute, this movie is right for you. The animation in this movie - from the walking to the driving to the talking and lip syncing, is pretty much almost flawless. So, props to the animators for this. The graphics are really nice - they’re not too dark, nor not too bright. They are not the warm sort of tones, either. They are the perfect graphics for a movie for families. It’s also quite cute as well - especially when the minions do the puppy eyes as a sign for pleading. In fact, when I was watching it live in the movies some grownups laughed at several scenes. The movie captures the family friendly humour perfectly in some ways or another.
Now, it’s time for the plot. If you are someone who loves seeing people fight, have watched Kung Fu Panda, and alongside some villainy, then this movie is also for you. The whole plot of the movie is basically a young, 12 (or 11, I think) year old Gru who lives with his minions (with the iconic trio, Bob, Kevin and Stuart) in his house with his mother, who doesn’t like the minions. He wants to be a villain, like the Vicious Six, an openingly vicious villain group. One day, he gets a letter informing him that he has been accepted to audition to be a part of the group. Gru goes to then audition - in which he is then rejected because of his age. The actual storyline rolls on from there.
Don’t get me wrong - the story is fantastic. A villain as the main character, along with some Chinese aspects and Kung Fu, it’s an amazing storyline for someone who loves a twist on the classic, good character as the main character. The pacing was rather well done, and the character development was quite good. However, I just thought that the big fight scene was rather anticlimactic - with the build up to the final fight, it seemed like the conflict would have you on the edge of your seat. Unfortunately, this is not the case - it was just a few mere moments of fighting, and then the villains turn into small animals (just like how Maleficent went in Descendants) and then it’s alright also. Also, there’s the part where someone supposedly dies but then it was just an act to cover up what was going to happen next to the world. Again, not my type of ending. At least it wasn’t those stereotypical “it was all a dream” movies, which is good. The movie was quite short though, which is a bit of a bummer. If they had lengthened the movie a bit we would’ve seen quite a bit more action.
Overall, it is a pretty good movie to have some fun and to laugh for a bit. It’s a quick and decent film, just for children who are small and innocent, as well as those older ones looking for a good movie to watch while hanging out with friends. It’s family friendly, has a bit of humour, and it is overall a nice movie. It also has nice graphics,and smooth animation. It was quite the pleasure to watch, especially with popcorn, drinks, and with friends. I would give it a 4.5 out of 5 star rating based on the criteria I mentioned above. A decent film - I would highly recommend it.

Part three (509 words):
I’m doing Gossip.
The latest news on Michelle Kimberly, labelled as “the town’s most beautiful girl”..
Back in 2014, Michelle won the 2014 Junior Beauty Award, awarded at the annual Beauty festival at the tender age of 7.
“She was blessed with the most beautiful doll-like eyes, the most crystal clear skin, and the most golden hair I’ve ever seen,” her mother gushed after the Award ceremony, with her proud husband right next to her.
“I’ve never seen anyone like it,” her father remarked to the reporters of 8Go. “It’s a miracle. And we raised this girl, you know.” he nodded to his wife. He was as equally as beautiful as his wife, although Michelle was clearly more beautiful than him.
Michelle Kimberly, now 15, is attending the Fine Institute for Young Girls, located West of the North Shire Shopping Centre. She’s the most popular girl at school, and is named one of the most academically gifted girls in the school.
“She’s often surrounded by many friends,” her mother doted, her large eyes poring into the camera screen. “We have at least a dozen come into our house a day. It’s not surprising, to say the least - she’s one of the most popular girls at school - no, even in town, for goodness’ sake!”
“It’s quite loud here, but that’s when we know they’re having fun,” the husband said, looking at his wife adoringly. “That’s the time we’re allowed to relax and spend time together as husband and wife.”
When questioned about what their daughter does with her friends, they attempted to dodge the question.
“Well… we, as her parents, believe that we shouldn’t be interfering with her personal and her social life,” her mother said. Her husband nodded solemnly.
“We believe that everyone has their privacy, and we have to respect that, especially as parents,” her father said. His wife nodded.

However, recent images on several social media apps have leaked, revealing that Michelle Kimberly is apparently in a romantic relationship with Michael Trean, a rather handsome young fellow from the nearby school - The Fine Institution for Young Men, located East of the North Shire Shopping Centre.
Michelle has just recently refused to answer when questioned by the journalists that stormed her house.
“She’s very busy - I can’t imagine her having a boyfriend,” her father sighed.
“Yeah. If she had a boyfriend she would’ve told us about it,” her mother said insistently. “I doubt those claims are true.”
Her so-called love interest, Michael, is unable to be interviewed.
“We would really appreciate it if you stayed out of his love life,” his mother said curtly, slamming the door in front of the reporters’ faces.

It is out of the question whether Michael would be able to be interviewed further, though the principal of Fine Institute for Young Girls, had been called in for questioning.
“We always put our girls’ best interests at heart,” the principal said. “We will never interfere with the other school unless necessary.”
It is safe to say that Michelle’s love life will soon progress as time goes on.

Part four (252 words):
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total word count: 2372.

The girl glared across the classroom at the boy who’d ruined her day. Her gaze was sharp, piercing, as if she looked not just at his face, but into his soul. The boy didn’t notice, though, doodling and writing on his paper as the teacher droned on.
Pencil and paper untouched, the girl continued to stare angrily. Her hair was dark and straight, but messy. Her hands were clenched into fists.
The boy had already finished the math assignment and continued drawing. His hand, too, was clenched, but around his pencil. In fact, he was pressing with such determination and focus that the graphite snapped.
With a sigh, the boy sat back in his chair, tossing the now useless pencil onto the desk.
Only then did he notice the girl, who had not stopped the intense one sided staring contest.
His eyes widened. He glanced behind him to check if she might be looking at someone else. But he’d sat in the back, just like normal. No, this girl was glaring at him.
Instead of returning his gaze to his paper, the staring contest became two-way as the boy struggled to comprehend what the girl was thinking.
He hadn’t spoken to this girl before. But he hadn’t spoken to any of the girls.
His eyes drifted to her backpack. Something poked out, blocking it from being zipped up all the way. Something colorful, but broken.
As he remembered, his eyes grew even wider.
The girl, shouting. In tears. Holding a broken action figure.
Profuse apologizing. Hurrying away to make it in time for class. Putting the motor he had been dissecting away and watching his step more carefully.
Then, the boy hunched over his paper again, a small smile spreading across his face.
He took the motor out of his backpack.
The girl huffed and turned her face away. Her hand drifted to her backpack. The boy couldn’t see her crying.
After school, the boy took out a toy from his closet. Red, white, and blue assailed him.
This shield wasn’t cracked. The face smiled, ink unblemished. The boy rubbed the dust off, smiling at the figure.
Soon, though, it would be even better.
Running into the kitchen, the boy fetched a couple magnets off the fridge. No one asked him what he was doing. No one was home.
He rushed back to his room and dumped what he’d collected onto his work desk. Half dedicated to homework. (Already finished). Half dedicated to this.
Picking up the figure, he set to work.

The next day, the boy went to school, again walking quickly to class. This time, though, he wasn’t staring at his hands. His chin was held high and he scanned the halls.
His hands were sweaty, his eyes flicking nervously over the people.
Then, he saw her. Saw the toy, still poking out of her backpack despondently.
Without a word, he walked up to her.
Again, she stared at him. This time, though, it was a confused stare.
He smiled.
She looked even more confused.
He set his backpack on the ground.
She shouldered hers, tightening her grip on the straps.
He unzipped it, bringing out the toy.
Her jaw dropped.
An even bigger smile on his face, the boy offered it.
She stared, then reached out. Taking the new, better toy than the one he’d stepped on.
And then she smiled.

+ 564 words

On cold December nights we would huddle by the fire with good books, hot cocoa, and laughter to keep us company. On gray March mornings we would walk down to the park and try to guess when the rain would begin to fall. Father would laugh and shake his head as he tucked his glasses into his pocket. They were covered in droplets of water, yet he never seemed to remember to take them off until it came time to put them away. On the September evenings we would walk through the same park, this time with the colors of fire spread along the path before us. It was the warm summer afternoons that were remembered best, though, when we would pack a picnic dinner and drive down to the beach. The waves were crashing against the sandy shore, and father would stay further up the beach where it turned rocky. The big, red umbrella that we never got rid of, though it was torn, because it was full of memories and offered precious, though imperfect, shade. Grains of sand were embedded in our hair, skin, clothes.
These were the memories the woman, huddled in a dark raincoat in the corner of a rickety train, clung to. Memories of a time that was lost but never forgotten. Others might see the occasions as unimportant, trivial.
She did not. In fact, she hung on to them so tightly, with a fondness that verged on obsession, that her face, even now, was twisted in one of concentration as she fought to remember the scent of rain, the sound of leaves crunching under boots, the taste of the popsicle her father gave her with a smile.
The lights in the last caboose of the southbound train flickered slightly.
The woman’s mousy brown hair—pulled back in a bun that was now, towards the end of the day, wispy and indistinct with strands that had fallen out—appeared almost black for a moment. Her pale hands grasped her elbows through the wet raincoat, as though holding her together, and seemed to disappear for a split second in the darkness. Her piercing blue eyes shone out, though, the gleam in them unquenchable. A fire inside her, like the autumn leaves against the well-walked paths.
The slump of her shoulders spoke of hopelessness, the dark circles under her eyes and premature strands of gray in her hair told of a life full of stress, and the shabby clothes under the raincoat said she was poor, or perhaps just didn’t care.
But that gleam in her eyes contradicted these things, if you cared to look.
A passion, a hope, a joy, lived inside of this shabby, ordinary woman.
Memories held her together, tenuous strands of long-ago December nights. A mug of hot chocolate by a blazing fire. Raindrops dotting glasses. Wisps of cloud turning gray. Leaves underfoot. Foam kissing the edges of sand. The same sand in hair, skin, clothes. The sweet taste of a popsicle. A loving smile.

Susan sat down heavily. She swallowed. She glanced at her watch. She was impatient, but she continued to wait, for the person who she was waiting to meet could be of utmost importance to her future. Susan snapped her fingers to the beat of the cheap, cheesy jazz waiting room music. She liked to call it ‘elevator music’, or, when she was a child, she called it ‘cheap jacuzzi music’. Honestly, it still kind of sounded like that.
Susan's head snapped up as a tall man in a dark suit entered the airport waiting room. He was carrying a large briefcase. It looked secure, and it had multiple padlocks dotted around the opening. It looked as if something valuable was being transported in the briefcase… perhaps it was the money that Susan had been promised. Perhaps her money was here, to be delivered?
Susan sighed as the man walked past her. If he was indeed carrying her promised money in his shiny plastic briefcase, he would have noticed her. She was sitting on the centermost plush red bench in the airport lounge, in full view of anyone who walked through the tall, grimy glass door. Also, the person who carried Susan's money would recognize her, as she had provided her description in the rendezvous email- short, blonde with curly hair, small brown eyes. Susan looked around anxiously for the person who would give her her money, but she didn't know who to look for. The person hadn't disclosed their appearance. There was nobody in particular to look for, other than somebody wielding a briefcase. Susan pursed her lips. The person who had her money was now over half an hour late. Perhaps he had gotten something wrong? The day, or time, or terminal?
Susan closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. It was just a small mishap. Her money would come to her soon. She just had to be patient.
Over the next hour or so, people entered and left the lounge, but nobody approached Susan. More and more wrinkles appeared on her smooth, foundation-plastered forehead. If her watch were a person, it would be weary from being checked so much. Eventually Susan reached into her suitcase and pulled out her laptop. She located the email where in which the person had offered her twenty thousand dollars in exchange for five. It was a great deal, and Susan had agreed eagerly. So now here she was, late for her holiday because she had waited for two hours for a scammer to give her money, and rid of five thousand dollars of her savings.
As the realization took hold of Susan- the realization that she had just given a scammer five thousand dollars of the meager amount of money that she had saved up. Tears began to well up in her eyes. Susan tried to stop them, but the reality of what had happened to her overwhelmed her. Tears were running down her face, smudging her mascara, and people were glancing at her, some in sympathy, some in frustration on annoyance. A loud sob escaped her lips as she shoved her laptop back in her suitcase and rushed out the door blindly, paying no heed to where she was going.

538 words!

July 11th Daily -

The girl fell to her knees on the cold, tile floor, wrapping her arms around herself, holding herself tightly as she could. Hot tears started to fall down her face as she began to sob, completely ignoring everybody around her, even though many of those people were trying to help her. She kept crying, unable to do anything else. She curled in on herself slightly. Her hands were clenched into tight fists so hard that it was slightly painful, her fingernails digging into her hands as she tried to direct herself to the physical pain instead of the mental pain.
The boy was sitting on his bed reading when he heard her crying from the other room where he had been and he walked out slowly to see what was going on. He saw the girl on the ground, her arms around herself as she was sobbing on the ground. He made his way through the crowd of adults who were gathered around her and he knelt beside her, trying to force her to look at him.
The girl felt the boy trying to make her look up but she didn’t, she curled in even more on herself, tears still running down her face. It almost felt like she was gasping for air as she cried. She began to shake slightly.
The boy sighed and he gingerly placed his hand onto her chin and gently forced her to look up at him. When she did he tried to give her a reassuring smile, which she didn’t return. She continued to sob, and all he could do for a moment was watch the tears streaming down her face and falling onto both of their hands.
The girl looked into the boy's eyes, in which she saw immense concern for her. She fell into the boy's arm and held onto him tightly, starting to cry harder as he started to comfort her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, her arms clamped tightly around the boy’s shoulders.
As she threw her arms around him, the boy just followed suit, hugging her tightly and beginning to try and comfort her, his fingers running through her hair and down her back as he tried his best to calm her down.
Even after they had been there for quite some time, even as the boy continuously tried to make her feel better, the girl wasn’t feeling any better and she just held onto him, still shaking. As they sat on the ground together, she felt some of the adults try to pry the two apart but she refused, her arms tightening around the boy whenever they tried to separate them.
The boy sighed as she tightened her arms around him. He looked up at the adults that surrounded the two teenagers, obviously trying to pry them apart so they could check on the girl. The girl wasn’t having any of it though and so he also stopped them whenever they tried to force them apart. He kept holding her tightly and comforting her, refusing to let them be separated.

(517 Words)

SWC DAILY #11, 800 points for Fairy Tales, 584 words.

Everyone. Everyone was staring at Annabelle, waiting for her to answer. Would she stay with her bloodline, or would she pave a new journey for future rebels? She looked to her left. Her family was standing there, along with the rest of the Loyalists, looking at her expectantly.
“What are you waiting for?” Her father mouthed, tapping his foot impatiently.
She looked to her left. There was the Rebels, standing tall as ever now that they had new recruits. They glanced at each other when Annabelle looked at them, and then flashed welcoming smiles.
“Whatever you want, sweetie.” An old one standing near the front mouthed, standing on her tip-toes.
Annabelle felt her lips quirk up into a small smile. She looked back at her family. Her mother was crossing her arms and squeezing her black blouse. She looked quite irritated.
Annabelle looked in front of her. There was the door. Her eyebrows rose up as she glanced at the two careless looking guards standing at either end of the door. One tapped his watch, seemingly finding something on it entertaining, and showed his comrade, who also chuckled.
“Hurry up, hun, we don’t have all day!” The sorter for the year said.
Annabelle nodded. She put up her hand to her chin as if she were thinking, and then she made a run for it. She kneed the two guards where the sun did not shine, then ran out the door of the sorter’s council.
“Catch her!” The shrill voice of the sorter echoed through the misty night air. Annabelle heard frantic footsteps behind her. She took a fleeting peek behind her to see two new guards chasing after her with a bright flashlight. If she looked really far, she could see her parents fuming in the doorway.
“Escapee #1378, on the run.” One said into her walkie-talkie.
Annabelle panted frantically as she looked around, wondering in which direction she should run. She took a sharp left and ran behind a building. The guards quickly caught up. There was a left alleyway and a right alleyway. She then took a right into a dark and abandoned alleyway with a dead end. There was trash cans and garbage bags at the end, so she quickly ducked behind one.
“Which way? Oh, I think I see footprints! Let’s go, Jerry!” Annabelle heard a female guard order. She mentally prepared herself to be caught but…nothing. She heard their footsteps and voices go farther and farther away.
Annabelle pumped her fist, and looked around. She was still next to all the dumpsters. She crinkled her nose and crawled away. She sat down, facing the dead end, and thought about what she had done.
She hadn’t chosen the Loyalists, where her family was originated from, or the Rebels. Seeing her behavior tonight, everyone would’ve definitely thought she was a Rebel. But now she was without a team, without a family, without anything. She was what they called,
“Team-Less.”
She hadn’t chose a team, so she would have to live her life hiding from the sorters and authorities and rummaging through junk for supplies. That was what her parents had told her anyways.
She picked up a thin twig from next to her and started to draw on the soot covered pavement. She drew her family on the left side, and the Rebels on the other. She then drew her, sad, in the middle. As soon as she was about to finish, she heard footsteps behind her and then-
“Gotcha.”

Daily #11 7/11/2022

Word count: 558

Two figures dart into the closet and the door closes slowly. A creak comes from the hinge and a low gasp comes from the inside. Keeping the door open a crack, the hands on the door duck inside. A little girl, six years at most, grasps a worn, pink bunny in her hands. Her lips are closed tightly, but wavering. An older boy looks at her with a saddened look. He wipes a tear from her eye and quickly turns away to wipe his. Sounds of footsteps echo outside of the closet. The boy presses a finger to his lips, signaling silence from the girl. The steps come closer to the closet and no other sound is heard than the creaks from the wooden floor. The light from the opening of the closet disappears and a large hand is put on the doorknob. The young girl shuts her eyes, though a shattering crash from elsewhere caused her to open them again. The faint light flows back into the closet and footsteps start up again, getting fainter each time.
Breaths are released from the pair and they allow themselves to relax. The elder of the two keeps an eye out, looking through the crack every couple of minutes. A distant meow sounds through the mostly empty building. A grunt follows and footsteps descend the stairs. The brother spots a flick of a tail and a gray body. The surrounding area is unoccupied and the boy flicks his hand toward him. The girl gets up, a questioning look on her face. She starts to open her mouth when a finger is pressed to them. The little girl follows her brother deeper into the closet. The older boy stands on his tip-toes and pulls down a rope. Slowly, a door opens up from above. A rope ladder tumbles down, landing with a soft thud. The duo doesn't do anything for the next minute, two, three. Finally, the boy starts heading up, going up 2 rungs at a time.
As he nears the top, he motions for his sister to follow. Noises from below cause her to quickly scramble up after him. The elder pulls up the rope ladder, doing so quickly, but making sure to not make any alarming noises. He lowers the door with a soft creak. A sneeze comes behind him and he freezes. A soft sniffle comes from behind him and he rushes to comfort his sister. Loud footsteps echo and the siblings keep each other in an embrace. Loud grunts get nearer and the door underneath them is flung open. The siblings stay still and silent, neither of them daring to make a sound. A tear silently drops onto the ground. A cry rings from below and a raspberry is blown. Raging, angry footsteps clamor through the building, echoing off the barren walls. A door is shut with a loud slam.
The siblings embrace each other once more and make their way down the ladder. They walk together through the empty house and spend time in each room. They approach their parents' room, holding hands. As they peer in, the sister is overwhelmed with emotions. The joy that has been replaced with emptiness makes her sob. Putting her hands on her face, she trembles. The room that was once filled with family and laughter is no more.

･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･ july 11th daily ･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･

☆ 576 words || 800 points ☆

Rebecca flopped onto her new bed, exhausted from the move. All day she had unpacked box after box, and moving got difficult when you were as clumsy as Becca. She had nearly broken her back twice throughout the whole moving process, but was too proud to ask the movers for help.

Rebecca let herself breathe in the scent of her new blankets for a few moments, then heaved herself up. She had to complete the rest of her cleaning.

She picked up the last box, a small thing labeled FRAGILE. Rebecca set the box on her new kitchen countertop and left it, going back to her other silverware.

For the next few days, Rebecca forgot about the box on her countertop. She forgot all about it until her most recent disaster- cooking for herself.

As she finished cleaning the kitchen after her mess, she noticed the box again. Intrigued, she lifted it up, peeling off the packaging tape. Rebecca didn’t ever pack something in a box this small: she always shoved many things into larger boxes.

Rebecca read the label closely on the box, and she realized she hadn’t packed this at all. It had been mailed to her, from an unknown address..

Rebecca ripped open the box, eager to discover who could have known her new address so early on. Inside she found a leather-bound diary, filled with yellowing pages.

She flipped the diary to its front, tracing the crest embroidered on its cover. The crest seemed familiar to her, but she just couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.

Opening the book to its first page, Rebecca wrinkled her nose. The book had the sharp scent of the sea, a place Rebecca had run away from all of her life. The sea salt tang.. the familiar crest.. Suddenly, Rebecca’s mind connected the dots.

The diary was from Rebecca’s father.

Rebecca instantly chucked the book across the room, watching it land onto the stove. Thankfully, Rebecca had been smart enough to leave the stove off, although part of her wished it were on.

She was too enraged to be thinking straight. Anger made her blind, and the only thoughts that ran through her mind as she opened the door for the mail were of betrayal. The betrayal that ran through her father’s blood was not to be easily forgiven.

Rebecca opened the door, hearing it bang against the wall. Another package. Angrily she sliced it open, gasping as there was, once again, her father’s crest, this time on a vase.

She threw the vase against a wall, watching it shatter into pieces. Turning to close the door, Rebecca watched a mailman drop off three new packages. This time, all three bore the crest next to the FRAGILE notice.

Rebecca picked up each package, not bothering to open them as she slammed them against the floor. Kicking them around helped her feel better, until a slab of the wall fell to the floor.

Hastily picking up the chunks of paint, Rebecca froze in her tracks as she gazed at her bare wall. Her father’s crest seemed to imprint itself into her mind as she glared at it, sitting innocently on her wall.

Rebecca began to scream and yell, grabbing any sharp object available and causing severe damage to her home. She dug around for something blindly and grabbed a matchbox.

Lighting the match, Rebecca felt nothing as she burned her tainted house to the ground.

The line was a river of grayscale, winding its way through gray banks of buildings, looming over the tiny, insignificant people standing beneath them. Waiting. Always waiting.
The line did not jostle. No-one pushed, or shoved, or tried to get to the front. A perfect line, really. A perfect line for all the perfect people standing in it, perfect plastic smiles plastered all over their perfect gray-hued faces. This was the Elysian. A city prized for its flawlessness, it's perfection. It’s perfectly happy citizens. They all lined up, all day, to be Purified. There was nothing else to do, really. Just line up to get their thoughts erased so they could line up all over again. A perfect life, with nothing in it. After all, if there was nothing at all, there could be no imperfection, could there?
The masked, gray-clothed people at the front stamped each person with their Mark before they went inside the building that looked like all the others. The Marked would then come out again, a dazed look in their eye, a plastic smile dripping down their face, an even more washed-out shade of gray than they were before. And they would join the back of the line, and by the time they got to the front, their Mark would have faded and they would do it all again. The new-age circle of life.
This was how it had alway been. How it would always be. The citizens didn’t know how to live in any different way. And even if they knew the “truth”, they wouldn’t try to fix their grayscale world. So scared to lose what they thought was perfection. So scared to deny the lies poured down their throat every day they were Marked.
And the longer they thought this, the more colours leaked out of the world, and slowly they forgot that there were ever any colours at all.
But did it even matter? Did anything matter? Who would want anything apart from Perfection and Purity and Paradise?
One person. One person did. And he was the Dysfunction.
They tried. They tried to cover it up, deny it, forget it. But he could not be covered up. Or denied. Or forgotten.
Because there was one blemish in their perfect society. One citizen whose memories of the World Before could not be erased. He could not be Marked.
He remembered the Forbidden Colours.
But Dysfunctions are funny little things, aren’t they? So desperate to be free of this monotonous life. So hungry for more, for the things they remember. But they never do. Never step out of the line. None have even tried, over the years. And the Dysfunctions slowly died out, their traitorous species crushed beneath the grayscale heel of Perfection.
Except for this one. Except for Him.
He calls himself Red, even though he is completely grey. He wants to be a painter. He wants to paint the sun.
He wants to escape perfection, as he knows he is imperfect, and he revels in it. Just by being alive, he is rebelling. And he vows - his spirit will never be crushed.

Rebekka strode through the tree-lined path, squinting from the sunlight coming through the trees, and also from the tears pooling in her eyes. She kept walking, along a path that led away from town and towards what was considered by all to be the unknown. Her hands trembled and twitched, dancing like spiders at her sides. Soon, purple light began to wash over her fingers, and more tears fell from her eyes.
Yesterday, Rebekka had faced her sister, who had finally revealed the truth about the mysterious situation and occurrences surrounding their mother’s death. And that she wasn’t actually dead, and that her sister despised magic.
Now, Rebekka was left to wander with the knowledge that her mom was trapped in a magical prison, a shard of a crystal, for she had nowhere left to go.
Little did she know that problems lay ahead. She gazed into the trees as she walked, and wasn’t watching the path ahead well enough to notice the person coming towards her. In an instant, he’d grabbed her bag - full of all her possessions in the world - and ran away. She chased after him for merely a second before slowing to a helpless stop.
She stood like that for many minutes, face emotionless. As she finally turned her head, a chipmunk approached. Its eyes were wide, and perhaps worried, somehow. She stared at it for a long moment. Then light pooled in her palms. She brought her hands together, and with a blinding flash of light, the world flashed out of sight. When it returned, nothing remained of the chipmunk but a pile of dust.
Next came a sparrow, then a young deer, then a bear.
Tree, after tree, after tree.
Rebekka destroyed her world’s most ancient monuments in a heartbeat, and there was no one there to stop her. It was reminiscent of what her sister had said, about how a girl like her should not be allowed to roam free.
Soon she had razed the entire forest. It had been a small forest, perhaps only a forest to the villagers who lived in the nearby town.
Rebekka continued walking. For many days, she traveled on, stopping to sleep a few hours each night, abandoning the attempt to fall back asleep after continuously waking up after only three hours of rest every night. This went on for many months, her talking to no one, not even the occasional shopkeeper, for she stole and scavenged for supplies in the night.
It all took a toll, a huge one, on this girl with no plan whatsoever. But she continued on, while, far away, her sister took charge of the town, eradicating any trace of Rebekka’s existence, any trace of her magic.
After nearly a year, after destroying an entire den of bears, cubs included, Rebekka sat down in the dirt. And she cried, until her cheeks and neck and shirt were soaked, and she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
Far away, her sister cried at night, mumbling in her sleep, not showing her true self to the people she led.

Tears are like memories, in a way. They pile up over time, stacking higher and higher, like a delicate Jenga tower. But they always fall eventually, drifting away into an endless sea, a river of time, just beyond our reach, too far to snatch back. Each tear shed holds a story, a thought, an emotion, a hope and dream, a recollection of the past. Even as we try to hold them in, they eventually spill out like microscoping grains of sand, slipping through our hands, raining down around us.

–

Talia sat on the edge of the pier, feeting dangling down, as if they yearned for nothing more than to touch the furious waters below. Each wave seemed to carry a furious sense of determination, as if every ounce of its willpower was concentrated on the sole task of reaching the shore. Thousands of feet above the sea, clouds begin to gather ominous, waiting to watch the storm that would undoubtedly follow.

Though her face wore an unmistakable look of denial, tears too were slowly gathering, coating her eyes, like raindrops ready to fall. They sparkled like miniscule bits of glitter shining in the sun, clinging to her eyelids like morning dew drops to a leaf. Talia looked to the sky, its stormy presence reflected in her eyes, and she stared off into the distance, looking at something unseen to all others.

A single tear fell down into her lap.

Ten year old Talia, clinging to a boy- her brother, perhaps? He was dressed in military green camo, as if he were about to leave. Possibly forever. Talia’s tears fell at his feet as she held him in her tiny arms, her face twisted with emotion. She looked up at him and pulled her message clear. Don’t go.
It twinkled as it fell, like a piece of gold from a child’s pocket, a treasured possession, a memory never to be lost, something to be held dearly forever. Yet another fell, this time gripping her cheek before giving in to the overwhelming pull of gravity, the never ending river of time.

Twelve year old Talia. She held an unreadable tear soaked paper in her shaking hands, the envelope torn to shreds on the floor. As she tilted the paper upwards, the word became clearly visible. Failure. She had failed- and her face said it all. Her hopes, her dreams, all crashing to the floor, like a piece of shattered glass, a puzzle scattered beyond all hopes of piecing together ever again.

And a third, the time unresisting, as if it knew what its fate was to be. There was no hope in resisting the inevitable as the tear fell with a single sob into the ocean, a speck of dust in the vast sea of the universe.

Fourteen year old Talia, sobbing, once again. She stood over a stone marker, unmistakable a grave. Someone had died, someone very dear to her. Her face was blurred with sadness, her eyes swollen from tears. Whoever they were, they could never, ever be replaced.

516 Words, 2,875 Charecters. HORROR CABIN FOR THE W!!!

Janet stood there, under the bus stop, breathing, in and out, trying to calm herself. He had said he would be here twenty minutes ago, he must have just been running a little late. Janet slowly started to punch her thigh, a habit she had accustomed to with being stressed.

“It's fine Janet, he'll be here soon enough” she told herself, tapping her foot impatiently. She groaned and punched her fist.

“If he isn't coming, I'll go myself” she told the bus stop wall she had been talking to for the past couple minutes. Grabbing her bags with anger, she ran out through the little shelter she had against the harsh winds and strong rain. She had walked a couple meters when she began regretting her stupid decision of leaving the only light and shelter she had. Janet reached inside her purse for her phone only to find it dead, no battery. She had brought a charger, but without an outlet it would be of no help. She had finished the sandwich she packed for herself a while back and now soaked, cold, hungry and without a cell she began hating herself and her decision even more as well as her brother who promised to pick her up. What an idiot she had been to believe him, after all, he was a sibling. He was a sibling, someone she considered trustworthy, a figure she looked up to after her parent's sorrow death. She knew it wasn't the time to break down, but she couldn't help herself. It was then when she realized she was lost. Spiritually. Physically. Her legs felt sore, as if as she was walking away, she was carrying all of these problems with her.

“Pull yourself together, Janet, pull yourself together.” She said to herself. Tears falling from her eyes, unnoticeable in the rain, just like her place in the world, unnoticed… Finally, after what seemed as though hours and hours of walking in a straight line she saw her brother, SHE SAW HER BROTHER!? Just as she was going to talk to him, she fell, her vision got blurry, her chest felt heavy, and she fell. Down. Down. Down, just like her life's problems, all crashing down behind her.

. . .
“Hey sis, wake up, wake up!!”Janet woke up to the familiar sound of her brother. She wanted to punch him so badly in the face, yet hug him so hard at the same time. A candle had been lit, the flames bouncing up and down reminded her of her emotions, hatred, anger, happiness…

“I hate you so much Josh” She said, “You promised to pick me up, now look what happened to me” Janet's voice rose, like the candle's flames next to her, and suddenly, as she swung her arm, the candle fell, it landed on the cotton pillows next to it, it touched the carpet, flames erupted, burning like the anger in Janet's heart. And as she laid down on the couch, soon to be set to flames, in her last moments all she could think about was hatred.

weekly - july 10-16
This issue of the Update contains a total of 2334 article words

WEATHER OUTLET BECOMES TIRED OF WEATHER; BREAKS LAWS AND TALKS ABOUT CRIMES INSTEAD
Written by Sunny Watcher (824 words)
It’s hard being a weather outlet in a city covered by an eternal storm, but StormWatchers got by… Until it didn’t. For every day up until July 10th, the weather forecasting program StormWatchers would try to predict what activities listeners should do that day based on what was coming down from the storm clouds up above. On a day with rain, listeners were told it was safe to go outside, and on days when lighting appeared listeners were advised to stay inside.
But on July 10th, there was an unexpected change in programming that left many listeners baffled. Instead of the repeats of the day’s weather-determined advice, in an illegal turn of events the StormWatchers program suddenly started talking about crimes commited in the week earlier. While the everyday listener might not understand the magnitude of this crime, one experienced radio host quickly realized what was wrong with the broadcast and called the police.
Triple award-winning host of the radio show Lawful Good Explanations Jonathan Listener had just come out of a recording session when he heard the sudden turn of subject from an unnamed panelist’s radio. Listener, being a well-known show host, was taken aback, but when the panelist confirmed that a minute earlier they had been listening to StormWatchers, decided to report the show’s conduct to the local authorities.
The authorities quickly shut down the StormWatchers broadcast and arrested all of the StormWatchers members involved with the illegal change for breaking the law that a radio show may only talk about the subject the show members had chosen as their legal subject. Jennifer Jones and Gary Peters, the longtime StormWatchers hosts, are set to be put on trial on July 17th.
According to an interview with Jonathan Listener, he had just been talking about how the new ruling overturning the law that radio shows could only have one registered host in its history was a significant step towards more freedom for people working on broadcast stations.
“I was so confused, because whatever the show listening to, it was most decidedly not StormWatchers,” Listener, who had been born just after the radio subject law had been passed, said. “In all of the twenty-seven years I’ve listened to the program, StormWatchers had never talked about bakery robberies, because bakery robberies don’t have anything to do with weather. But I asked them, and it was StormWatchers.
“I had known Jennifer and Gary growing up,” he continued. “They were family friends- they knew the laws and followed them; their criminal record was as clean as a fresh sheet of paper. I couldn’t believe that they would actually do something so out of character. And throughout the whole incident, I was just… I couldn’t believe it was actually them. I thought it had to be an impersonator, but it wasn’t.”
The police questioned several of StormWatchers’s weather reporters, but only one of those four responded to our request for an interview with them: Jennifer Jenkins, known affectionately by her colleagues at StormWatchers as Jennifer the Second.
“It was another typical day,” Jenkins told us. “We were talking about the weather, and joking about that one scene in the newest movie where the protagonist drops his umbrella and it gets blown away by the wind, and then Jennifer went ‘And on other news today,’ and I was so confused. We’d already gone over the weather, so what other news was there to talk about?
“And then they just started talking about bakery robberies, and I started pinching myself and whispering to to hit me because there was no way it was reality. But I pinched myself and it hurt, and poked me and it hurt, so it had to be. There was no other answer, but I still didn’t believe it.”
The bakery robbery that became the turn of conversation was, for those who need a refresher or don’t listen to StormWatchers, when the bakery Delightful Sweet Treats was robbed by the infamous Cake Maker thieves in the seventeenth robbery commited by them this year.
The popular radio activism program RadioActivist would not respond to questions about whether or not this would change its stance on the law Jones and Peters broke, but released a public statement later that day saying that they were “of the firm belief that if you want to change the subject of your show, you must first inform your listeners and panelists as well as go through the considerably streamlined process to change your show’s subject.”
When asked for comment, Jones and Peters replied through a spokesperson, saying that the incident was “a mistake that get sorted out” and that “Jones and Peters had filled out the paperwork for the subject change and had their proposal accepted, but got the date mixed up due to the unfamiliar formatting of the response from the government”.

REVIEWING THE FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST ADAPTATIONS: HUMAN TRANSMUTATION OR EQUIVALENT EXCHANGE?
Written by Anonymous under the pen name “Midnight Writing” (800 words)
Fullmetal Alchemist is a popular manga that was adapted twice: once as Fullmetal Alchemist in 2003, and again as Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood in 2009. For the purposes of this article (to make things simpler), the 2009 adaptation will be known as FMAB, the 2003 adaptation as ‘03 FMA, and the original manga as just FMA. This article will contain spoilers, so this is your warning to scroll or flip past this section and head on to whatever article comes next. (Note or ignore that there is also a live-action movie that I will not mention further than this sentence, though one certain homunculus was the GOAT of the movie.)
With that out of the way, let’s go through a quick summary. Both adaptations center around the journey of the two brothers Edward and Alphonse Elric. As is quickly revealed in the beginning of each, Edward has a metal arm and leg and Alphonse is actually a soul bound to a hollow suit of armor. They can use FMA’s magic system, known as alchemy, to turn things into other things made from the same material. Of course, there are limits to this power: the brothers lost their limbs and body, respectively, by trying to resurrect a human when they were young children, and the resurrection failed.
The main differences between ‘03 FMA and FMAB are the endings. In 2003, the FMA manga hadn’t yet been finished when the project began, meaning that around the midpoint they ran out of content to adapt. On the other hand, FMAB began when FMA was finished, so it more closely follows the manga’s storyline.
An important difference that I think the adaptations are good examples of are the differences between a “good” standalone anime and a “good” adaptation of an anime. ‘03 FMA makes a “good” standalone anime (but not an adaptation) because of the canon divergences, while FMAB is what would be a “good” adaptation because it follows the events of the manga.
Of course, both have their own pros and cons, some of which I have listed below. (Note that all statements are my opinion, and you may disagree.)
‘03 FMA’s pros are that…

• Certain elements of the world get more development and details (how homunculi are created, how the homunculi act, the Ishvalan refugee communities, etcetera)
  
• The Ishvalan war has more of a visible impact on the '03 FMA storyline and characters, and we get to see more from the perspective of other people
  
• It explores the greyer side of different story elements
  
• Hughes and other characters that would likely be described as minor appear more often in the series and get a larger role

‘03 FMA’s cons are that…

• Several people (notably Winry) receive diminished character arcs and/or lose parts of what they do in the story
  
• The characters from Xing/Xerxes/Briggs that were introduced later in the manga on don’t end up in ‘03 FMA due to their appearances being made later than the point when ‘03 FMA started diverging
  
• Towards the end, it starts to get less consistent with how things like alchemy and automail can be used. Frank Archer is a very good example of this.
  
• Hughes appears more times before his mvrder

FMAB’s pros are that…

• Some of the characters and locations (those from Xing, Xerxes, and Briggs especially) get more development and/or appear in the story
  
• Some elements of the storyline are more consistent with the manga and also more consistent with the rules of how alchemy/automail can be used
  
• It has more of a feel-good/hopeful ending and general feeling than a deeper/dark one (still deep, though, just happier and also a bit deep at the same time)

FMAB’s cons are that…
The first and second episodes consist of exposition crammed into two episodes and are tedious to watch but unfortunately necessary if you’re starting with FMAB

• The first episode is entirely made-up (with an original character who immediately gets k1lled off) and serves no purpose other than revealing things that would have otherwise been revealed later
  
• It eliminates most of the Youswell section of the story, instead choosing to show the events that were influenced by Edward and Alphonse through the perspective of Yoki as a flashback and removing May Chang’s arrival at Youswell. Due to this, when May Chang comes back to Youswell to head back to Xing the viewer has no clue why everyone in Youswell is being so nice to her
  
• It has an unneeded filler/flashback episode towards the middle that focuses on Van Hohenheim remembering past events and seems to be just used to fill in some sort of gap.
  
• In general, the events towards the beginning of the series are more sped through instead of focused on like they are in ‘03 FMA

HELPFUL SOLUTIONS TO EVERYDAY PROBLEMS: YOUR QUESTIONS, ANSWERED
Written by Dais Replier (not counting questions, 504 words)
Question submitted by @Fantastical_Words: “Why are there three calculators on my desk where there used to be only one?”
Well, there are several common possibilities for this, but they mainly depend on what size the calculators are. It could be that, using magic, somebody split the one calculator into three smaller ones, or duplicated it. Alternatively, somebody bought (or somehow acquired) two other calculators and put them next to the one. (Unless the calculators are sentient, which is a whole ‘nother shelf of squid.)
If the mysterious other person got two other calculators and put them next to your original one or duplicated your original one, then the original will likely have been unmoved. The main difference is that in my experience duplication spells will consistently put the two duplicates with one on each side, leaving the original in the middle, while hand-placed objects will be placed in the most stable places.
As for what you can do with your newly-available other two calculators, you should first check to see if anyone in your family or a friend of yours is missing or needs a calculator. If this is the case, you can give them one of the spare calculators, or if not you can keep them or sell them to people who are interested in getting a calculator.
Please write back with feedback or an update on what happened, and definitely send me another question if the calculators are sentient and you can’t find any more answers on your own.
Question submitted by @-rosybliss-: “What should I do if my grandmother's old childhood doll starts having a conversation about this world being an illusion and that nothing is truly real?”
Your first step should be to pinch yourself and see if you’re dreaming. If you’re not dreaming, you should definitely listen to what your grandmother’s doll has to say- and, if nothing else, at least try to figure out what name the doll goes by or how the doll is talking to you. Maybe it will have some interesting opinions, but try to take what it has to say with a grain of salt and see what proof it has to back up its claims.
As for other next steps, if (for example) the doll is haunted by a spirit, your next step should be to figure out who the spirit was in life: a person who is from your family, a family friend, or a random person who just ended up haunting the doll. I find that the books with family trees that are locked with several dozen different keys are the most comprehensive and detailed, though your family’s might be different.
If the doll is actually a robot that is programmed to enact conversation, you should probably try to figure out who made the robot-doll, when it was made (if it really is your grandmother’s childhood doll), and/or if you can talk to its creator. Some tools you can use to aid you in your search include your country’s group that keeps track of how much money is spent on which things by which people or the old metal detector every family has for some odd reason.
In any case, your grandmother’s doll seems interesting. Please send me some updates on how the situation develops from here on out.

SPONSOR MESSAGE: MOTIVATIONAL MANGOES
(206 words)
Have you ever needed inspiration and a snack at the same time? What about hitting writer’s block on an empty stomach? Or, have you ever tried to procrastinate by eating a meal for longer than you need to be?
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Edited by Persimmon Aelyx Dare
Published by Apocalypse Watch Studios
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7/12 weekly
part one: fake crime (805 words)

MANGO THIEF CAUGHT DAYS AFTER HEINOUS BANK BREAK-IN
Sunrise Town, July 12th– Notorious mango thief Finn Zparkly was apprehended just an hour ago by local mango-protection agents days after a high-profile break-in. He was discovered hiding in an abandoned fruit warehouse several miles out of town, and quickly surrendered himself to mango-protection soon after being surrounded. After investigation, around half of the stolen mangoes were also found in the warehouse, while there was no trace of the other half. Our reporter on the scene, crime analyst Eevee AmazaEevee, says, “He didn’t look remorseful at all. In fact, he looked rather serene — much like he had done his task and he was prepared for whatever consequences were to come.”
Indeed, footage taken by our photographer corroborates this. Dressed in nothing but a simple white shirt and loose pants, Finn looks to be almost smiling as he is taken into a mango-car to be driven to fruit-jail. He looks nothing like what one would expect someone who commits terrible crimes to look like. Just goes to show — mango thieves can look like anyone, so keep a close eye on your neighborhood to keep our mangos safe.
The crime occured on July 9th in the Historical Fiction District, where Finn was born and raised. Friends and Family who knew Finn when he was young say that he was an intrepid yet normal child, interested in sports and typology — strange interests for a young child, but unalarming nonetheless. Despite this, our records show that he started thievery from a young age. According to these records, Finn started off with small thefts from local mango nurseries, for which he was caught and let off with a light punishment. However, after several months of no activity, during which it is rumoured he trained with legendary mango thief Moss Flower (who has been on the run for years), he resumed his life of crime, stealing mangoes from the various districts of our town. This increasingly daring spree of heists, conducted over almost a week during which 8 banks were heisted, culminated in the robbery of the largest mango bank in town, the Sunshine Sini Institute, which is located in the residential Non-fiction District.
The heist went undetected by both staff and residents alike, until the following morning, when renowned watermelon lover Lily (who preferred not to share her last name due to fear of retribution) saw that the lights were uncharacteristically off during her 6-a.m. walk. Lily says that she has a habit of taking an early walk every morning, and that “when things aren’t the same, I notice”. She reported this discrepancy to the mango-protection agency, who immediately locked down the area and started searching for the thief. They discovered that almost all the mangoes kept securely within the bank (numbering some 800 fruits) had been taken. Said the bank manager, Brave Heart: “Nothing like this has ever happened. This is a terrible incident.” She vowed to increase mango defenses in order to prevent a similar theft to happen again and to restore the public’s trust.
After days of careful investigation, detectives tracked Finn down to an area out of town, thanks in part to a tip from Dawn Camps, noted tangerine activist. In her statement, she said, “My support and condolences go to anyone who was affected by this terrible crime. Know that all of us, including my fellow tangerines, are with you in this difficult time.” She said that she had seen someone who fit the description of Finn on a run-down mango-car driving out to the country, and promptly alerted the mango-protectors. “I’m very glad to have done my part,” she told us.
Speaking to the public in a hastily-put-together press conference mere minutes after the arrest, mango-protector leader Sage Flower spoke about the results. “Although we were able to catch the perpetrator, who will face proper rehabilitation and reintegration into society, we mourn the loss of the 398 mangoes we have not been able to find. We are still holding out a slim bit of hope that we will be able to find them somewhere, but as of now we are considering them gone.” She also spoke about the mangoes that they had found, saying that “The 418 mangoes that we were able to find are physically unharmed, but we will be providing therapy and emotional support for them and their families to make sure they’re okay.” Notably, she declined to speak about the specifics of what Finn would face, but we here hope that it is fair and not unduly harsh.
This is a very scary story, but it is all in part to our societally-minded SWCzens that it has been resolved. We encourage all of us to remain vigilant yet kind in our daily lives. Reporting for the Piscine Times, Tau Sixpoint out.

part two: sports opinion (806 words)

Opinion: The Angels Make Me Sad

Ahhh, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, first-worst team in the great Southern California area, the home of the top-two best players in the entire league — what are we going to do with you?

The year started with such promise — such hope, such optimism for the near future. In the offseason were several high-profile acquisitions, including two new rotation arms (Thor in SoCal!) and a couple steady bullpen flingers. Pitching is always the Angels’ weakness (no hitting needs with Trout and Ohtani on the team, right?) so this was a hopeful sign of investment. Angels fans waited for the season to begin with excitement — eagerly awaited the beautiful date of June 7th.

And at first, the Angels delivered! A winning record, joining the Dodgers (a perennial winner) in leading their divisions, an early complete no-hitter by a previously-shaky rookie, a breakout hitter in Taylor Ward, and the Fish Prince hitting like he always has. Sure, Ohtani was a bit below last year’s MVP performance, but he was still decent. Andrew Velasquez may not be a great hitter, but he’s a phenomenal defender, so… The future looked bright.

Then things started to go wrong. Relievers who had been reliable on other teams suddenly crumbled in Anaheim. The newer pitchers were (as always) shaky at best, terrible at worst (of course with the exception of Ohtani, but even he had his bad days). Players started jumping in and out of the injured list. A series of unfortunate events led to a spirit-breaking FOURTEEN-GAME LOSING STREAK. The Angels suddenly stopped winning until they plummeted to fourth in the AL West and a dismal 38-to-49 record. What had initially seemed like a plausible contender slowly showed its true form — a ritualistically underperforming and underwhelming team, one resigned to the butt of jokes instead of analysis on daily talk shows. Sure, pretty often Trout or Ohtani does some wonderful feat — new record of RBIs! New strikeout record! Something no one has done since “Tungsten Arm” O’Doyle in 1921! — but this somehow still leads to what feels like an inevitable Angels outcome: a loss.

Which brings me to the bulk of this article: why do I remain a fan of the Angels despite their perenial tendency to make me incredibly, incredibly morose? Why do I still support them even when just opening mlb.com makes me sad? Why do I continue to pour my limited time and emotions into them despite them constantly not delivering?

Quite honestly, I do not know. For a Los Angeles team there is a much more successful and popular fanbase in the Dodgers (my Dodger friends frequently rub in how good they are), and for an AL West losing team there’s the Mariners. Really, the thing that the Angels are best at is dissappointing, and that’s not something one really wants in a team, right?

But still. I suppose it might have something to do with sunk costs — I’ve already dedicated so much time and energy into learning about this team that defecting would seem like a loss.

Still, it hurts.

In order to make up for the pain I will now judge various other MLB teams in order to make myself feel better about the unending mediocrity of my chosen team.

Welcome to… Pi roasts their least favorite MLB teams!! (all of this is /lh)

The NY Yankees may be good at baseball, but that comes at a loss of likeability. It also serves as proof that there’s nothing money can’t buy

Toronto as a team is not good anymore after that selling offseason, so fans need to overcompensate in All-Star voting

It took Cleveland until when to change their name?

White Sox have a losing record

Seattle you are my favorite!! I love you Seattle keep winning

Braves you may be a good baseball team but you gave up Freddie Freeman and some of your fans think that engaging in harmful stereotypes is okay

Washington has done nothing but lose since 2016 (me coping cos Angels haven’t won since 2002)

Pittsburgh good for you that you’re third in the NL central, but with that -125 run differential you’re just lucky

I bet half of Cubs fans have left you after Rizzo and Bryant were traded away

Cincinnati, you started the season with like 3 wins for 20 losses and you haven’t improved much since

Rockies, you traded away Trevor Story to get… a worse Trevor Story.

Wow, we can really see that last Giants season was a fluke

Hopefully San Diego doesn’t crash and burn like last season

I Hate The Los Angeles Dodgers

Now, you may be wondering, “Pi, why did you just say those horrible things?” It’s because they’re tame compared to what I can say about the Angels.

God, the Angels make me so sad.

part three: travel (543 words)

Guide to Summer Dressing in Japan (or, what to wear to seem like a native)

If you’re in the middle of the big Japanese cities in summer, you might be wondering, what should I be wearing to feel comfortable and confident? You might be scared about not fitting in, or about making your experience in a foreign place more uncomfortable than it already is. If you’re curious at all, you’ve come to the right place.
Summer clothing in Japan is mostly formulated around one main factor: heat. Clothing should be practical and comfortable, and most people dress as such. Before you bring anything, make sure that it guards against this main category.

Summers in Japan are HOT. Not only are they sweat-inducing, they’re incredibly humid, meaning all that sweat you just oozed out stays on your skin and swelters. This means that most anything skin-tight will be soaked through, and not only is this really gross-looking, it feels really, really uncomfortable. Instead, go for airier, oversized clothes, which will give your skin at least some room to breathe and gives your skin some hope of relief. This goes for both tops and bottoms — oversized t-shirts; big, long skirts; and wide loose pants are all essential in hot Japan summers. (A bonus is that many of these clothing articles are quite androgynous, so if that’s something you want, great!)
Another thing to consider is the sun. Having your skin exposed to the sun’s rays has a huge impact on how hot you’ll feel, so consider airy long sleeves that block the sun but still give air circulation. This also goes for bottoms — it probably has less of an impact, but consider foregoing your shorts for a nice long pair of loose pants. (This is especially true for skirts!)
Lastly, think about color. The darker a color is, the more heat it will absorb, and it makes a bigger difference than you’d think. It’s difficult if your style is mostly based on darker colors like black or brown, but try wearing lighter colors like white or light grey.
Examples of anti-heat clothes include:
— oversized white tees tucked into flowing maxi skirts
— loose flowing maxi dresses
— oversized tees untucked with loose tapering pants

Here’s a list of clothes uncommonly seen on Japanese people:
— tube tops, crop tops, and other “revealing” clothes
— miniskirts (midi skirts and maxi skirts are much more common)
— anything particularly skin-tight
— cutouts exposing skin

Keep in mind that all of these aren’t definite rules — individual style or what you feel comfortable in trump any of these. There’s a lot of people in Japan who don’t wear clothes that fit these — for example, a lot of younger people dress for the respective subcultures that they’re in. There’s also a large culture of modesty in Japan, but if that’s not your cup of tea, rock your style! In addition to personally-decided ways of dress, there are many people who wear formal business clothes for work, from a white-collared shirt and dress pants to a full three-piece suit. (If, for whatever reason, you want to look boringly respectable, you might want to wear a collared shirt for your entire stay.)
But if fashion isn’t really something you’re interested in…. maybe consider bringing a big white tee?

part four: horoscopes (242 words)

capricorn: beware, for something unfortunate will happen to you soon, and you will have to be prepared.

aquarius: you’re anxious about something that’s happening in the near future. don’t worry — you’ll perfectly fine.

pisces: people flock to you because you give wise insights. just remember to stay humble — no human knows everything.

aries: you’ll become stubborn this week, but that’s not a bad thing. stick to your beliefs and things will turn out okay!

taurus: most of the time you bring up great points, but once in a while you should listen to others’ advice. wisdom is knowing when those times are.

gemini: some people will pretend to be like you to gain your favor, but those who truly want to be your friend will not. choose wisely.

cancer: some who seek to bring you down will verbally degrade you. do not heed them, for you know internally what is right.

leo: you’re used to controlling your own future, but sometimes it’s better to let fate guide you through your options.

virgo: some great joy is nearing in your future, from a source you don’t expect.

libra: keep your friends close, but your enemies much, much closer.

scorpio: outside circumstances will make it difficult for you to be kind, but try to help others nonetheless — it is one of your strongest traits.

sagittarius: stay in touch with a wide variety of people. you benefit from a lot of social stimulation.

total words: 2396!

weekly #2 (mango-themed) - 5265 words

part 1 - 1111 words (I know I'm so cool XD)
It was late on a Thursday night when the most unthinkable of crimes occurred. After the fact, no one knew what to do. All of SWC entered a time of mourning as all of the campers, co-leaders, leaders, co-hosts, and hosts tried to remember what life had been like before this horrible incident. No one could, though. After all, how could anyone in SWC operate without daily meals of mango? Rynn, a camper in SWC, admitted that "this was the hardest moment of life. had never imagined that there could be life without mangoes, yet here .“ Everyone wondered who could have been so cruel as to even come up with the idea of burning down all the mango trees in existence, permanently wiping the most delicious fruit ever out of all grocery stores. Other campers, though, seemed almost… unbothered by the lack of mangoes. Could they be the culprits. One SWC'er named Lily, unafraid of sharing her opinions with the world, stated that, ” didn't actually mind the disappearance of mangoes. Personally, never really liked the fruit and found everyone's obsession with mangoes to be weird and actually even a little bit annoying at times.“ However, not many campers share Lily's dislike for mangoes. The entire camp has had a centuries-old obsession with this delicious tropical fruit, and there are only a few exceptions, like Lily, to this. JoJo mentioned in an interview that she ”just get people who dislike mangoes. How can someone not like them when they are such a delicious and likeable fruit. Of course all of SWC is obsessed with them - they're amazing!“ Although clearly not everyone agrees with JoJo. After all, someone had to have burnt down all of the mango crops. Could it have been Lily, who doesn't like mangoes. Or maybe it was an impostor, pretending to like mangoes but secretly plotting their downfall. We may never know, if no one finds the culprit. Hopefully, for the sake of everyone's sanity and happiness, the mysterious arsonists will be found, or at least someone will find a way to start re-growing the mango plants.
On Thursday, around 1:30 AM, some SWC'ers decided to take a midnight hike from the SWC main cabin. They ended up accidentally walking halfway around the Earth, by means of a hidden and unknown teleportation device. When the portal finally delivered them at its intended location, they looked up to discover a mango field. Elated, they sprinted towards the trees, anticipating getting to eat the amazing fruit. However, one of them, Rea, noticed a strange glowing light in the distance and halted cautiously. ”Something just felt wrong,“ she said after the fact, ”I didn't know what, but it definitely didn't feel like the kind of place that I would run into with no information. I certainly wasn't expecting /that/ though.“ Don't worry Rea, I don't think anyone was. Except for the criminals, that is. I know I certainly wasn't expecting this to happen at around 3 A.M. The other SWC'ers paused when they noticed that Rea had stopped, urging her to follow them. Then, slowly, one by one, they began to notice the glowing light. Dizzy, a specialist in all things fire and arson, had noticed the telltale signs and smells of a fire. She screamed loudly and instructed everyone to run as quickly as they possibly could. Once a safe distance away from the fire, they stopped, and the shock sank in. The mango fields were burning! They quickly picked up a phone and called the police - not only was this a devastating occurrence; it could also be incredibly dangerous for everyone nearby! The police responded almost immediately, although apparently the person answering the phone seemed extremely tired - understandable, considering that it was around three in the morning. However, they went on full alert after hearing about the fire and immediately sent a team of firefighters. While no one was hurt or injured, the mangoes were sadly never recovered. The reporters, like myself, were informed soon after. However, while on our way over to this mango field, we received hundreds of alerts relating to burning mango fields, from all over the world! It seemed as though we had a full-on crisis in our hands. As a reporter for SWC news, I knew that all of SWC would be in ruins as campers mourned over their lost mangoes. There would be no more days of joyous mango-sharing, no more days of definitely-not-poisoned mangoes. SWC'ers could no longer use mangoes for motivation, or simply for enjoying. They were gone, permanently. Many campers who had used poisoned mangoes began to regret their decision - after all, they had wasted perfectly good mangoes. Dizzy, the fire specialist, added that she ”had resorted to eating packaged, dried mangoes. This was the saddest event of life.“ We may never know how the fire started or who would ever want to destroy nature's most amazing fruit in this way.

BREAKING NEWS - this just in, the culprits of the mango arson have been DISCOVERED! It turns out that no one actually intended to start the fire and destroy the mangoes; it was simply an accident. The true culprits were, in fact, the SWC'ers who had discovered the mango fires in the first place! While in the forest, they had decided to experiment with some arson, since arson is legal only in that forest. When they did, portals were secretly hidden throughout the forest to all the different mango fields in the world. They didn't know it at the time, but the fire they started spread into the portals and destroyed the mangoes. A sobbing Rea mentioned that, ” would never have done it if had known the damage that it would cause. honestly didn't know that were destroying the mangoes - that would be unthinkable!" It looks like no one is to blame here after all. I hope you all have a wonderful yet devastating day, this is SWC News, reporting your biggest stories live.

BREAKING NEWS - It seems as though one mango field has survived! No one in the whole entire world knew of the existence of this mango field, other than its owners, some campers in SWC. Located on a hidden island not on any maps, this field contains thousands of mango trees! It looks like this event may not have been as big of a crisis as it originally seemed. While, of course, it is still terrible that so many mangoes were lost, at least there are still more in the world. This is SWC News, reporting your biggest stories live.

part 2 - 812 words

Today, I decided to review the store and restaurant Mangoes and More. First, to get there, I followed reviews of the store on Yelp to find the entrance. The instructions led me to the base of a small cliff. Upon arrival there, I assumed that I must have been sent to the wrong address, but I checked it again on multiple websites and found the same instructions. I started up the wall, using the helpful handholds that had been added there for customers to climb up there cliff like rock climbers. I will say, the difficult climb and hard-to-find entrance are the main reasons why this review was only four stars instead of five. It would have at least helped if there had been stairs, an elevator, or some other, easier method of getting to the top of the cliff. When I finally emerged at the top, completely drenched in sweat, I looked around, unsure of where the store was supposed to be. I saw absolutely nothing except for a tiny sign reading Mangoes and More. Most people probably would have given up at that point, but, being the stubborn mango-lover that I am, I decided to persevere. I continued walking along until I bumped into something that felt rather like a wall. I feel around, feeling a bit strange waving my hand through the air seemingly randomly. I finally found what I was looking for, though. A door handle. I pushed the door open, not entirely sure what I was even expecting. I definitely hadn’t expected something quite so breathtaking. It was truly an amazing place for any true mango-lover to visit. Customers happily browsed some of the hundreds of aisles for their favourite mango products. I saw rows of packaged mangoes, of mango candies, mango juices, mango soaps and shampoos, fresh mangoes, and every other mango-themed item imaginable. I wandered around the entirely orange room, browsing all of the products, for a while. I could see how someone could easily have spent hours, maybe even days, in the store, just looks through the aisles. However, I was on a tight schedule, so unfortunately I eventually had to leave that area. I walked briskly through the mini museum of mangoes, an exhibit with posters providing all sorts of facts about mangoes. The museum even had an audio guide and complimentary guided tours every hour! While I didn’t have the time to listen to the audio guide, I have heard that it is wonderful and offers an adequate description of the exhibit in every language! Next, I walked past the mango-themed play place, which had slides and roller coasters that were all orange and mango-themed and scented. Finally, I pushed through a set of double doors with mango-shaped handles to arrive at the Mango Cafe. I scanned the menu briefly, shocked by the wide variety of mango-themed foods. They had mango pizzas, mango-rubbed fish or chicken, mango salads, mango sushi, and more! And that wasn’t even mentioning their desserts. This cafe truly earned the title of Mangoes and More. I decided to order a mango and spinach salad with a mango vinaigrette dressing. It had both fresh and dried mangoes in it, and had some crunchy mango bread croutons on top. I also ordered a mango smoothie. Before my food came, I was served a basket of bread with some mango butter and mango jam, which tasted absolutely delicious on the bread. While the service was a bit slow, I was still content because of the good food and pleasant, mango-filled environment. Additionally, a server apologized and informed me that service usually wasn’t that slow; they were just short-staffed because there was a mango-themed birthday party going on at the moment. However, as I waited, I tasted my mango smoothie. It was truly delicious, and I was really able to taste the mango flavour in it. When my salad finally arrived, I realized that it was definitely worth the wait. The mangoes in it tasted so fresh and delicious, I almost could not believe it! When I commented on how amazing the food was, I was informed that it was usually even better, but their main chefs were helping with the birthday party. I was shocked. I didn’t think I could imagine anything tasting better than what I had just eaten! Although I was incredibly full, I decided to order dessert to complete the experience. I got a delicious mango tart with a scoop of mango sorbet on top! All the food was amazing! I would truly recommend this place to anyone who truly has a love for mangoes. While it is definitely a hassle to get to and can leave you feeling a bit tired of mangoes at the end, (although of course I’m not sure that that’s ever entirely possible) the amazing food and experience makes it worth the trouble.

part 3 - 3126 words

I need mangoes but the ones at the store are not good enough and the seeds are horrible. How do i get good mangoes? - MysticScratcher101

Dear MysticScratcher101,
It seems like you might be having some trouble finding the right mangoes! Never fear, for I have arrived, and I am more than happy to help you find the perfect mangoes to enjoy! I can offer you multiple alternatives to the ones sold at your local grocery store so that you can decide which method is best for you. My first tip is to never go to your local grocery store. The mangoes there are always fake and taste terrible. There are many better ways to find good mangoes. The first option would be to go to the store and restaurant that helps to sponsor this newspaper, Mangoes and More. Naturally, since they sponsor SWC news, I had to mention them first, but their store truly is wonderful. They have store locations in almost every city in the universe, so you should be able to find yours quite easily! However, these stores are all invisible from the outside, which makes them more difficult to access. Once inside though, you can see everything perfectly well, it's just the entrance that is hard to find. The stores also tend to be at the top of tall, rocky cliffs, but it is definitely worth the climb and effort! Inside, these stores carry everything mango-related - from mango ice cream and candy to real mangoes, and everything in between! I would personally recommend their fresh mangoes - they have every type of mango grown in this universe - and their fresh-squeezed mango juice. It is so much better than the bottled mango juice that can be bought at any store, since it has an authentic flavour to it, which can really add to your experience. While you're there, it is also definitely worth checking out their mango café, which carries every mango-flavoured item imaginable on its menu. My next suggestion to find the perfect mango would be to visit the mango fields of Thailand. While it can be a difficult and expensive trip to take just for a few mangoes, the mangoes there are excellent if you enjoy sweet mangoes. It can be a hassle to fly there every time you want mangoes, though, especially if you like mangoes as much as the rest of SWC. Fruits also are not allowed through customs, so you would have to try to find a way around that if you want to try to take home these sweet mangoes. Personally, I prefer the sour mangoes, so Thailand isn't my favorite mango-gathering location, but it seems that many people prefer the sweet ones so I decided to suggest Thailand. While you're there, you could take the time to do some sightseeing, since the country has some very interesting places to visit. The mango fields there are quite easy to visit and buy mangoes from, but if traveling that far away isn't really your thing, there are, of course, many more options. You could start your own mango farm, using seeds bought from mangoesarethebest.com. This is the website I would recommend for buying all of your mango plants and/or seeds, since they use only the best seeds from the freshest mango trees. While growing and keeping a mango tree in your garden can be a lot of work, the effort can definitely pay off when you have a beautiful tree that grows delicious mangoes. Plus, then you can have unlimited free mangoes whenever you want them, and you can even give or sell some of them to your friends and family members! However, with this option, there is always the risk that your mango tree won't grow right, and then you will end up sad and with no mangoes, which is definitely a situation that you would probably want to try to avoid. Alternatively, you could buy one of the website's pre-grown mango trees and plant it in your garden. Then, you could hire a mango cultivator from that same website. This cultivator would come to your house to water and care for your mango plant as much as necessary. Then you would be pretty much guaranteed to have your very own, wonderful mango tree. Unfortunately, these mango cultivators are incredibly hard to find, and they are also very expensive to hire. Usually, hiring a mango cultivator for a month should cost around $20,000, or 15,000 mangoes, and hiring one for a year should typically cost around $200,000, or 150,000 mangoes. You can always bargain with the mango cultivators a bit though, but the price probably won't change much. However, I would recommend not hiring one for much more money than that, since the mango cultivators would certainly be ripping you off, which would be annoying since that is a lot of money. If you don't have a particularly green thumb and don't want to pay all that money (or mangoes) for a mango cultivator, there is always the final option of finding the mangoes yourself. Wild mango-foraging has been declared an official sport multiple times, but there are only ever a few people who partake in it. You could be one of them, though! First, you must find a forest near you. I find that Google Maps tends to be a good source for this, unless you already know of one by where you live. Your next step is to drive or walk to this forest, and then enter it. Once you have safely entered the forest, check around you to make sure there appear to be no black widow spiders, poisonous snakes, lions, tigers, or other harmful or terrifying animals. Next, check for plants, such as poison ivy and poison oak. Once you have checked the area to make sure it is a safe spot for your wild mango-foraging, you can begin. First, you must do a handstand (there are many amazing videos online to learn how to do this if you don't know how). Once in your handstand, spin around three times, then stand back up. Shout, as loudly and bravely as you can, “I am a wild mango-forager, and I am here to forage wild mangoes!” Once you have done that, a portal should have opened on the ground in front of you. If not, try it again, repeating the process until you successfully open the portal. After the portal opens, jump through it, without fear - that part is essential - the portal can sense your fear, so if you are afraid, then it won't work. When you emerge on the other side, there should be a room completely full of happily growing mangoes. Take as many as you want, but be sure to leave enough for everybody else to enjoy this special treat too! Those are all the mango-finding suggestions I have at the moment, but if you need more, you can always find them on www.howtofindmangoes.org/mango-finding/. I hope these suggestions helped!
Have an amazing day,
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Mango-Finder

I accidentally robbed the supermarket of its entire supply of mangos. How can I frame it on my brother? - TwirlStar

Dear TwirlStar,
Firstly, while having the desire to steal all of the supermarket's mangoes is completely understandable and relatable, it perhaps wasn't the best choice to rob it, and it especially would not be a good idea to frame it on your brother, at least in my opinion. If you are looking for a way to get lots of mangoes, you can also see my above response for various methods of acquiring mangoes. However, if you truly wish to keep the mangoes, there are multiple options. While you could choose to frame your brother, you could also frame the mysterious mango thief, who is a notorious criminal well-known in the mango industry. This thief often enters stores in the middle of the night and steals all of their mangoes, but nothing else. Stores have begun to take protective measures against the criminal, but so far, nothing seems to have worked. You could also just wait and see if the store notices, and try not framing anyone. They would be unlikely to find you, so you would probably be safe with your mangoes. If you truly want to frame your brother though, here are some ways you could do it. Your first option would be to cast a spell on your brother using a spell book bought on www.magicalspellbooksandmore.com/curses-and-spells/. This method is fairly foolproof, assuming you have training in spell-casting. However, this spell could prove quite dangerous to a beginner spell-caster, so I would not recommend it to you if you have never cast a spell before in your life. If you have a bit of time before needing to frame your brother, you could always complete their online spell-casting course, but that takes around fifty hours to do. However, this spell would cause him to show up on the stores security cameras as he sneaks in and robs them of their mangoes. Your next option would be to tell your brother the truth and ask him to take the blame for you. This would likely work if you have a very kind brother who wouldn't mind this, but judging by the fact that you chose to frame him for this, this method could backfire on you very easily. He could decide to call the police on you, or he might decide not to be framed for the crime. The final option would be to go to the police and told them that you saw your brother steal them. Personally, I would say that this is the best method, assuming you have no prior experience in spell-casting, because it is the least likely to backfire. However, if your brother is generally a believable person and you are not, then that could also easily backfire if he denies stealing the mangoes, particularly if he knew that you were the one who stole them. All in all, each one of these methods has some pros and some cons, so, in the future, I would try to refrain from accidentally stealing all the mangoes in your grocery store when possible.
Have a mango-riffic day,
Just Another Mango Not-Thief

I accidentally killed my best friend of 20 years, Mango, after I got too hungry and inhaled it as a last resort. Now Mango's ghost is haunting me in my sleep and threatening to feed me to the great mango king and use my skin as a new fashion line. What can I do to escape this horrible fate? - ButterPopcorn8

Dear ButterPopcorn8,
Wow, that seems like quite the predicament you've managed to get yourself into! Before I start giving you advice, I would just like to mention that it is probably not the best idea to consume your friends - it tends to make them very mad at you. But, of course, that is just my personal opinion. While I have no idea who the great mango king is, that definitely seems like someone you would not want to be eaten by. There are multiple ways that you could try to go about solving this problem. The first one would be to learn some form of martial art or self-defense. Some good examples would include jiu-jitsu, karate, judo, boxing, and archery. This way, if and when you encounter the great mango king, you will be prepared to defend yourself. However, if you are not prepared enough in your self-defense training, you might succeed in only making the great mango king angrier. The next way you could solve this problem would be to learn how to spell-cast. I have an amazing resource located in the advice column above, where I helped TwirlStar, which may help you learn the magical arts. This way, you could learn to defend yourself and also how to perform spells that could banish the ghost of your friend Mango. However, with spells like these, especially when performed by an inexperienced spellcaster, there is always a chance that they can backfire. This could cause an unexpected outcome, which is never a great thing. If you still want to proceed with spell-casting though, just know that you have been warned. My final suggestion is one a bit simpler, although it, of course, would depend on Mango's personality. You may have already tried this, but I thought that I would suggest it just in case you haven't. This would probably be the best way to solve the problem - just apologize to Mango. Tell Mango your reasons for inhaling it, and tell it you are very sorry and would not have done it if you had not needed to. You could even try to mention the fact that you can still be friends, even if Mango is a ghost. If none of these methods solve the problem, then I am sorry to say that you are most likely doomed.
Have a great time talking to Mango,
A Very Concerned and Confused Advice-Giver

My parents won't let me have mangoes :( Can you give me tips to smuggle them into the house? - Peach_Drawing

Dear Peach_Drawing,
That sounds like a sad, sad situation indeed! To smuggle them into the house, you first need to find somewhere to get your mangoes from! There are a few different methods to do this that are explained in detail in my first piece in the advice section, but I can go over each one briefly here. Obviously, if you don’t want your parents to see, you can’t grow a mango plant or hire a mango cultivator. However, you could still become a wild mango-forager! This is a very entertaining and rewarding way to find your mangoes. You could also get mangoes from the mango forests in Thailand or from the incredible store Mangoes and More. After you have acquired your mangoes, there are also multiple ways to smuggle them into your house. The first, most obvious one, would be to hire a smuggler. Of course, this could go wrong in many ways and also scare your parents, so I don't know if I would particularly recommend this method, but if you want to do that, then by all means, go ahead. Otherwise, you could wait for a time when neither of your parents are home and then smuggle them in then. This could backfire, though, if your house has cameras or if your parents decide to or have to come home early for some unexpected reason. Your third option would be to use sorcery to conceal your bag of mangoes. This would make it invisible to everyone, including yourself, so you would have to be absolutely sure that you are holding your mangoes. There is a good book of spells listed above that I would highly recommend if doing any spell-casting. However, this spell is mainly intended for advanced spell-casters, and if someone who is too inexperienced attempts it, they may end up accidentally turning themselves invisible, permanently. So, overall, the book of spells may not be your best option unless you are already a talented spell-caster. You could also always try talking to your parents and trying to convince them to allow you to consume mangoes, since they are truly a delicious fruit. Have you ever tried asking them why you are not allowed to eat mangoes? My final suggestion for you would be to simply try placing them in an inconspicuous bag, like your school backpack, if you have one. Then your parents would not wonder why you are coming home from school with a full backpack, and you will be able to bring the mangoes safely into your house to enjoy whenever you want! After you successfully bring your mangoes into your house, I would recommend waiting to eat them until you are sure that your parents (or your siblings, if you have any who might tattle on you) will not find you eating them. Again, good times would be when at home alone, or when in your room. I hope you figure out your mango smuggling situation alright!
Have an mango-mazing day,
Another Mango Smuggler


People look weirdly at me because I wear a mango costume everywhere. Should I stop doing it? - RLove10

Dear RLove10,
Wow, this question is a bit more straightforward and easy to answer than the other ones I have answered today, so thank you for that! The simple answer would be no! Mango costumes are amazing and super cool, and you should absolutely not stop wearing yours. You might even start a fashion trend! You certainly will not if you stop wearing your costume around, though. You need to show the whole world of your love for mangoes, because they truly are one of the best fruits to ever have existed. Plus, you might make someone else try a mango after they see your costume, and then they could realize that mangoes are actually their favourite fruit! (Of course this would happen, because everyone's favorite fruit should be a mango) Moreover, maybe if my neighbors see it, they will realize that maybe mangoes are not as bad as they had previously thought they were. In addition, you should never let anyone judge you for wearing what you want to wear, as long as it is appropriate to wear out in public, of course. My advice would be to never give into peer pressure and the opinions of others, since you are yourself, and everything that might make people think that you are strange is actually what makes you your own unique and cool self! Anyone who looks at you weirdly when you are just being yourself is wrong, and you should remember that they are probably just jealous. Plus, I am sure a lot of people think that your costume is amazing! I know that certainly almost everyone in Scratch Writing Camp would see that if they saw you walking down the street. What you think is people looking at you weirdly could actually just be them in awe of your amazingly cool mango costume. Out of curiosity, where did you buy your mango costume? I would love to own a mango costume, myself, but I, unfortunately, have never seen one in any store. Perhaps it is a limited edition item.
Farewell for now, and keep wearing your awesome mango costume,
A SWC News Reporter With A Strange Mango Obsession

it's not mango season here where I live and I really want to eat mangoes. what should I do? - _kittykay_

Dear _kittykay_,
That seems like a most unfortunate situation! There are a few ways to combat this very sad predicament. Firstly, you could always pop over to the store and restaurant Mangoes and More, where mangoes are always in season and you can always buy them. However, this store can be a bit difficult to access, despite having locations in every town in the universe. You could also go to the SWC main cabin and ask around for some mangoes - I'm sure that someone would be more than happy to give them to you! My third suggestion would be to conjure up some mangoes using magic spells. The only downside to this one would be that these spells are very difficult to cast and can often go wrong. Your final option would be to walk around looking for a time machine (or build one yourself) and go backwards or forwards in time to the next mango season and back again every time you need mangoes. While this can get a bit tedious, I personally think that it would be quite cool to have an excuse to travel through time.
Have fun eating your mangoes,
A Mango-Loving Reporter

part 4 - 216 words
Come to Mangoes and More today! It is guaranteed that the nearest location will be no more than a thirty minute drive from your house or you will get fifteen percent of your money back! Here at Mangoes and More, you can shop the aisles of our mango-themed store, learn inside of our mini mango museum, play inside of our mango play place for kids, or dine at our mango café! Everything in our store is guaranteed to be mango-themed in some way, shape or form. If you find something non-mango themed, please let us know and we will fix it as soon as we possibly can. At Mangoes and More, you can buy gifts for friends and family or for yourself! We have mango-flavoured candies, cakes, cookies, ice cream, jam, bread, and more! Some of the items in our store are even mango-scented! Every newspaper that has ever reviewed us has given us excellent reviews, including the famous SWC News! Our location is guaranteed to be secluded and away from the bustling crowds of the city. Located in an invisible building on the top of the cliff, our customers only ever include the biggest mango fans in the world. So come and visit us and Mangoes and More - we can't wait to see you!

Word war proof - 173 words

Once upon a time there was a very small town and in this town there was a store and its adjoining restaurant called mangoes and more. this restaurant sold everything mango related which was super cool. however the store was really hard to get to since it was located on the very top of a very very steep cliff which was very annoying to climb up. the doors were also invisible and so was the whole entire rest of the outside of the building, so as to deter everyone except for the true mango lovers, but it was really annoying because it often took forever to find the door, which customers did not really like about the store, but the store’s inside made up for all the bad parts on the outside. the entire inside was scented like a mango and everything was orange and mango themed which was really cool. there was also a mango museum and a mango play place both of which were amazing for immersing yourself in the mangoes

Word War Proof

word war with script.

Flying. Like gliding, but you never touch the ground.

I wish I could fly.

Instead, here I am. Gliding. I will one day touch the ground.

Actually, less than a day. An hour at most.

I’m currently in America, gliding in the Rockies.

It’s very different from the urban setting I’m used to.

I wonder if it would be more fun if I had better cold resistance. Mine is awful.

If I wore less clothes, could I glide farther? Probably, but it wouldn’t help much.

I can see mountains. Snowy mountains.

The peaks are covered in white.

I wonder if anyone’s hiking there. Or living there. Probably not.

lolll i wish i could finish this