The Elves and the Shoemaker The SWC-ers and the Author

Once upon a time, there was an author by the name of Hans Christian Andersen. He worked extremely hard to create amazing stories. But his stories weren't actually that remarkable. He tried to sell them, even sold them for half of what he thought they were worth. But no one wanted them. He couldn't earn enough to live on and fell into poverty. He decided to write one last story before he starved. He went out and bought a few sheets of paper. He grabbed a pencil and sat down at his desk, ready to start writing. Poising the pencil above the precious sheets of paper, he lowered it and penned, “Once upon a time…” But there he stopped, he was all out of ideas.
Finally, when the light from his lamp was running low, he decided to go to bed. Maybe while he slept, an idea would come to him. In the morning, he said his prayers, broke his fast and headed down to start working. He sat down and couldn't believe his eyes!
He rubbed them, Maybe I'm still dreaming. He thought. But when he opened his eyes again, the papers were still lying there covered in neat rows of writing. He read through it, it was a story. And not just any story, an amazing story! The writing was neat, the grammar perfect and the plot was interesting.
I don't know who wrote this but it's amazing and it's here. I'll call it "The Princess and the Pea. He pulled on his coat and tightly held on to the precious papers. He reached the publisher's office and went in.
“Not you again!” The publisher groaned.
Hans asked the publisher to hear him out one last time. “I think you'll enjoy this one, sir.” He urged and handed the papers to the publisher. The publisher took them with a sigh and started to read through them, his eyelids hanging low. As he continued to read, his eyes opened wider and he sat up straighter.
“This is amazing!” He exclaimed. “I'll publish it!” He shook Hans's hand and grabbed a pouch out of a drawer.
“Here's a preliminary payment. Actually, take two!” He grabbed another pouch and handed both to Hans. “You'll get the rest after we start publishing.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Hans stammered, gawking at the pouches in his hand.
He went out and bought a huge stack of new paper with some of his pay. He sat down at his desk intending to write but after so many days of eating little to nothing, his stomach wasn't agreeing with the rich meal he had eaten earlier. So instead he went to bed earlier, intending to work on new stories in the morning.
But when he woke up, the job was already done for him! He brought those to the publisher who paid him handsomely for them.
And so it went on. Each night he would set out paper and pencil, and each morning he would wake up to see a new story lying on his desk.
One evening, sometime around Christmas, he was sitting around the fire. Thinking about the stories that seemed to magically appear on his desk every morning. He decided it was about time he found out who wrote the stories each night and decided to hide out and wait.
That night he kept a lamp burning and hid behind a curtain in wait.
When the clock struck midnight numerous little elves seemed to pop up out of mid-air. They climbed onto the desk and each picked up a pencil. They began to write, running across the page, scribbling at a furious pace. Hans lost track of how many pages they wrote, but he was sure it was more than 100, and all in less than an hour. Hans couldn't believe his eyes. It was humanly impossible to write that fast. But then, they weren't human. As soon as they finished, one snapped her fingers and they both disappeared.
The next morning, Hans dropped off the stories like normal and collected his payment. He couldn't get the little elves off his mind. He owed a great fortune to them. I should find a way to pay them back somehow. But how?
The answer hit him while he was buying more paper. Those pencils must be awfully heavy. They're twice as large as they are. And it must be exhausting running across the paper. So he spoke to the shopkeeper and he agreed to try and make small pencils. He looked at Hans quizzically but didn't question it.
The next day when Hans went to buy paper, the shopkeeper pulled him aside and handed him a bag filled to the brim with miniature pencils. Hans went home and cut his sheets of paper into smaller sheets, stacking them up.
That night, Hans laid the pencils and paper out on the desk, along with a few mangoes he had bought from a fruit seller, instead of the paper he normally laid there.
Then he hid once again behind the curtain. And once again, the elves appeared at midnight. They gasped in delight when they saw the pencils, papers, and mangoes lying there on the desk. They eagerly gobbled up the mangoes, then grabbed the pencils and paper. Then they were gone again.
Except for one lone elf. That one elf stayed behind and hurriedly scribbled something on a sheet of paper. Then followed the others to wherever they went.
Hans emerged from behind the curtain and picked up the tiny slip of paper. He read the neat, tiny writing out loud. “Thank you.”
He never saw the elves again but from that point on, everything went right, including his stories.

Daily for Sci-fi
Fairy tale: The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Word count: 507
Unnamed characters are not based off anyone!!
The name luna is a reference to myself
The Camper Who Cried Done
There was once a camper in SWC who, every day, went to the main cabin, in hopes of a fun, exciting daily or weekly to do, but the real thing always disappointed them. Oh, come on. thought the camper miserably. I came here to have fun, not write. Now, of course, this was ridiculous. SWC is fun for people who like writing, but the camper misunderstood the concept. Of course, they wanted to get points for their cabin. But the only way to do that was write! So they thought of a plan to amuse themselves… and cheat.
The host had told every camper, to, when they were done, tell them their cabin and give them their writing as proof. So, the camper did as told, and, handed in their writing. “ Good,” said the leader, checking the words. “ 500 words, as told. And it's the correct topic too.” she smiled, and updated the cabin's points. Later that day, the host came in to check in on the cabins. The lazy camper was not in their cabin, they were off hanging out with their friends. Then the host saw something on the table. “ What…?” she muttered, picking it up. “ This is Luna's writing…” she gasped. “ Did that camper copy Luna's story?” The host spun around to see the camper laughing at them. “Haha! Tricked you,” they teased. The host snatched up the rest of Luna's writing and headed back to the main cabin. She took away all the points the camper had earned, setting their cabin farther down the rankings.
The next day, the same camper came back. “ I did the daily!” they said triumphantly. “ Really? Alright.” said, a co-host this time. “ The host told me of your disappointing behavior,” she said. “ Where is she?” asked the camper. “ Still recovering from… last night,” said the co-host, raising an eyebrow. “ All the words.” she said. “ Come back later, after I make sure you didn't copy,” she said, sending away the camper.
Later, she called the camper back to the main cabin. “ Congratulations! You didn't fail this time,” ( The co-host was kinda negative.) she updated the points. But then, as they were all settling down, the co-host had a realization. “ I was so busy checking everything else, I didn't realize how off topic it was!” she marched back to the main cabin and took the points away.
The next day, the camper ran into the main cabin, waving a paper around. “ I did it! I did the whole weekly,” they said. “ No,” said the host. “ We cannot believe you, after all the lies you told.” The camper was shocked. All their hard work, rejected! Just then, a camper from a rival cabin came in, with a completed weekly. “ Done!” he said, and handed it in. They checked it over, and it met all the requirements. “ Great job!” they said, and the rival cabin passed the lazy camper's cabin with the extra points.
At the end of SWC, their cabin was the loosing cabin, all because of the camper telling lies.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–
This was the best I could think of xD
Don't lie
Also the thoughts are in the regular format b/c italic and bold don't work for me :'(

･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･ july 18th daily ･ ｡ﾟ : * . ☽ . * : ｡ﾟ･

☆ 604 words || 700 points ☆

|| the twelve dancing princesses, but it’s swc

Once upon a time there were fourteen princesses. They were sisters, and slept in twelve beds in the same room. The host of the writing kingdoms of Scratch Writing Land was a very overprotective host, who wished their princesses would always be safe and unharmed. Therefore, each night the queen securely locked the doors and windows to the princesses’ rooms so they could not run away.

However, soon a problem arose. Each morning, the fourteen princesses attended breakfast looking exhausted, their hands covered in blisters and their eyelids drooping. When it was time for the princesses to attend their lessons, all their writing pens were broken and their ink bottles emptied.

The host was rather perplexed. Each morning they asked their princesses to explain what was going on, but they refused to respond. Anguished, they turned to the kingdoms and promised that any writer who can discover the princesses’ midnight escapades until July 20th would be rewarded 50,000 points to their cabin, along with a truckload of mangoes.

After several citizens had failed, a young author began to travel through the mango forests to attempt to gain 50,000 points for his cabin. While he traveled, he ran into an old woman, a SWL ghost. The ghost gives the young author an enchanted writing grip that would turn him invisible so he could observe the princesses. The ghost also advised the author to not accept any treats from the princesses and to pretend to be asleep until they leave.

The author made his way to the main cabin and was welcomed with grand splendor by the host just like he had expected. When he made his way to the princesses’ chamber, they insisted that the author eat some of the delicious mango treats they had made so dearly. Taking the ghost’s advice, the author pretended to eat the treats but scraped them off his plate.

As soon as the author pretended to fall asleep, the princesses ripped off their ballgowns to reveal different colored uniforms: the outfits of different individual writing cabins. They opened one of their lavish closets, grabbing pens and ink bottles, and pushed their way into a trap door at the bottom of their closet.

The author smirked as he put on his magic writing glove and followed the princesses. The princesses unknowingly lead him along a passageway, which ended with groves of mango trees, filled with glittering mangoes of gold, silver, and diamonds. The author eagerly snapped off a mango of each type as evidence and a gift to himself.

They walked on until they reached the divergent point that lead away to the different cabins. The princesses turned to one another, murmuring words of good luck to one another.

“Good luck with cabin wars today!”

“You too, thank goodness my writing block has ended!”

The author chose a princess to follow as they all went their separate ways, and throughout the night the author watched as the princess began to lead her cabin throughout the night of cabin wars, not sleeping a wink as the cabin wrote through the night.

The author eagerly spilled the princesses’ secrets to the host, who fulfilled their promise of 50,000 cabin points and a truckload of mangoes. The princesses had no choice but to confess, but they were surprised when the host just laughed, saying they had known of the princesses’ adventures all along but just felt like going along with it.

The princesses were enraged at the young author, however, and when the second cabin wars rolled around they made sure to ally all of the cabins against the cabin of the author.

july 17th daily - 546 words

fairy tales for the win!

The Snow Queen


Skye walked into the Fairy Tales cabin, and climbed onto her top bunk, shivering. Xe just had to walk all the way through Myth's Maze and got lost multiple times. Xe looked down, leaning over the small fence preventing her from falling off the edge of xyr bed. “Viii,” she said in a sing-song voice, grinning at the faint outline of someone under the covers. “Vi!” Skye reached down further and poked the figure, only to find her finger sinking right in, causing xem to topple over and off her bed. Xyr two other cabin mates were out getting their new chapters registered.
Skye staggered to her feet and ripped the blanket off the bed, to reveal nothing but two pillows. “I really just thought Vi was just curled up in a ball, didn't I?” Xe mumbled. “Where is she?” Skye started to walk outside and she stood on the porch of her cabin, looking out into the darkness, only to find one of the camp hosts, Birdi, standing by the Thriller cabin door.
“Hey, Skye,” she smiled. “What's going on?”
“I can't find Vi,” Skye says, getting closer to the Thriller cabin. “Have you seen her?” Birdi shook her head, an eyebrow raised.
“I just closed Cabin Currency stalls…Hop should be coming soon, but Vi wasn't there. Come to think of it, neither was Chessa. From Adventure.” Skye blinked. Chessa must have been standing in for an Adventure leader, but xe wondered why. Chess was almost always there. “Maybe Vi's gone to the Mango Jungle?” Skye laughed, an image of the small grove of mango trees flashing through her mind.
“It's hardly a jungle, Birdi.” The Thriller leader smiled. “But thanks, I'll have a look around. Maybe I'll poke my head into the Adventure cabin, just in case, you know? We are enemies, after all. Speaking of…” Skye grinned mischieviously - “Fairy Tales is gonna crush Thriller!” She called, running away from Birdi who was yelling back objections.

Skye walked closer to the collection of tents surrounding a main, cliche log cabin. Xe were lucky that there were small wooden boards hung on the top of every tent, labeling who ran what tent. She opened a tent just to find a camper sitting there, alert and awake. "Sabotage!“ They screamed, sending the whole Adventure cabin into a frenzy. The sound of zips opening could be heard everywhere.
”Woah! Calm down, please,“ Skye kept her hands out cautiously. ”I just want to know where Chessa is.“ Everyone froze.
”We don't know- We saw them leaving with another leader when Camp Currency stalls closed,“ an Adventure leader said. ”Don't know who, though. Now go on, you scared the heck out of us." Tents zipped shut and Skye was left in the dark.

Skye walked towards the dining hall, where lights were flickering wildly. It was either wiring issues that needed fixing - again - or something weird was going on. Something to do with Vi. She flung the door open to see glass shattered on the floor, and Vi crumpled on the floor, her chest heaving. Her eyes were a ghostly ice colour, gleaming with rage and hate. Standing over her was Chessa, a cracked mirror in their hands.
The Snow Queen was back

——-

SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER <333 JUST ADDED IN THE NAMES

Daily
7/18/2022
883 words

Camperlina and the Four Hosts (A Parody of Goldilocks and the Three Bears)

Once upon a time, there was a young child called Camperlina. She had gone for a walk in the forest behind the SWC main cabin, scrolling on her phone. She was very upset that the wi-fi didn’t work well in the forest and kept tapping the icon, hoping that it would magically work, when a new wi-fi system called “Amazing Wi-Fi” came up.

She grinned and tapped on it, being the unsuspecting child she was, but a password was required to use it and she had no idea what that password was. However, as she looked up from her phone, she found an old, creepy shed in the middle of the woods. This would be the perfect place to rest and write for some time, she decided. She knocked on the door and when no one answered, she found that it was unlocked, opened it and strode in without another thought.

The first room Camperlina walked into was a small kitchen. The shed seemed pretty large, actually, for it was big enough to have multiple rooms, or perhaps that was just a magical effect of the SWC woods. Camperlina was excited to explore regardless, and she found that she was a bit hungry, so she decided to see what was set on the table. Sure enough, there were four bowls of fruit.

She tasted the apples in the first bowl and spit them back out. “These apples are so hard!” she said disapprovingly.

Upon her disappointment with the first bowl, she tried the oranges in the second one and made an odd expression. “These oranges are too stringy.”

She then tried the bananas in the third bowl and stuck her tongue out. “These bananas are too mushy!”

Finally, she proceeded to the fourth bowl and tasted one of the mangoes. “Ahhhh, these mangoes are just right.” she said and ate them all, savoring every last bite.

After Camperlina had eaten her breakfast of mangoes she felt quite tired, so she walked into the next room. There was a table, presumably for discussion, and four chairs were around it. She sat in the first chair to give her weary legs a rest.

“This chair is too hard.” she decided, then proceeded to the next.

“This chair is too soft.” she complained, and she got out of it.

“This chair is too… stationary.” she said, realizing she couldn’t rotate it like the others.

She got into the final chair and spun around as fast as she could. “This chair is just right.” she declared. However, she was spinning it so hard and fast that it lost a wheel and she went tumbling to the floor. “Oops.”

She went into the final room, in which there were four desks for writing. Camperlina was so excited to start writing and thought this would be a lovely place to do so. She noticed there were already stories and pencils at each of the desks. She then had a great idea — she could continue one!

She sat at the first desk and read over the story so far. “This story is too sappy.” she said, deciding not to continue it.

Then she sat at the second desk. “This story is too angsty.” she said, refusing to continue it.

Camperlina sat at the third desk and read the story. “This story is too sad.” she declared, hoping the next one would be what she was looking for.

She went to the final desk and read over the last story. She was enthralled. It was an epic about mangoes, arson, and SWC. She couldn’t think of a better story to continue, and she had an amazing idea about how to end it. She got to writing as fast as possible.

As she was writing, the four hosts returned to their host shed in the middle of the woods.

“Someone has been eating my apples.” Birdi noticed.

“Someone has been eating my oranges.” Robin pointed out.

“Someone has been eating my bananas.” Honey complained.

“Someone has been eating my mangoes, and they ate every last one!” Bakie wailed.

They proceeded to the next room, where they inspected their chairs with suspicion.

“Someone has been sitting in my chair.” Birdi said curiously.

“Someone has been sitting in my chair.” Robin noted.

“Someone has been sitting in my chair.” Honey observed.

“Someone has been sitting in my chair and they broke the wheel!” Bakie said disapprovingly.

Finally, they made their way into their writing room and were instantly confused by the ruffled, disorganized papers.

“Someone has been reading my story.” Birdi accused.

“Someone has been reading my story.” Robin growled.

“Someone has been reading my story.” Honey snapped.

“Someone has been reading and writing my story and they’re still here…” Bakie said confusedly, pointing at Camperlina.

At that moment, Camperlina looked up from the story she had been so engrossed in and screamed, for the shed she had been exploring belonged to none other than the four fearsome hosts, all staring at her with equal expressions of shock and confusion. She dropped the story and fled from the room, all the way back to the main cabin.

What a shame that she wouldn’t be able to count the words she wrote.

daily 7/18 (fairy tale is the golden key, this is unfinished) 520 words

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alba, who lived in a fairy land. Her mother had been killed years ago by a bear, and her father was rarely home. She was a strong and wise lass, but lonely, and longed for contact with others.
One night, Alba shivered. How long had it been since her father left for drinks with his friends? An hour? The entire night? She couldn’t tell. It was dark, though, and she was alone. She hated being alone, or at least, she used to — now she was used to it.
She rose to get a blanket. It was decades old, so no matter how she tried to care for it, it would develop and grow holes simply by it sitting there. But it was the only thing her father would give her for warmth, so she learned to appreciate it.
Suddenly, she heard a tapping from outside. She ignored it. Once in a while neighborhood boys would throw rocks and pebbles at the walls, thinking it was somehow humorous to taunt an innocent, lonely girl. It hurt her, but she was used to it now, and she would not let it scare her. Until—
Roars emerged. They growled, animalistic and primal, and they grew louder and louder. Alba knows exactly what they are — after all, they’re what mauled her mother. She fought her urge to scream and ran out the other door into the woods.
The woods were magical, Alba knew, but she did not know in what way — so she was surprised when a branch rose in front of her, blocking her way, and then when more came from a nearby tree and grabbed her. She screamed as the tree held her from moving, as the tree drew her closer and closer to itself, as she became nearer and nearer to being trapped inside a tree…
Suddenly, a chicken? no, a flying fish with feathers — emerged from the dark and used some sort of magic to make the tree retreat. Alba watched with wonder as the branches uncoiled from her and as the fish swam through the air in a certain direction. Did it intend for her to follow it? Well, she might as well, she thought. Couldn’t go back to the house, especially when there were bears there.
After a while of walking, the girl saw a cottage in the woods. The door opened by itself, and inside she saw a bubbling cauldron (into which the flying fish jumped) and a lady (a witch? Alba thought). The lady smiles.
“Hello, darling, what’s your name?”
Alba, being a wise lass, decided not to say her real name. She searched for one and— “Oh! Oh, my name is Tangle, ma’am. Or at least that’s what the other girls called me. On account of my hair, ma’am.”
“Oh, you poor dear. Your tangles were not you responsibility, if they had taken care of them the right way it would not be like that. Never mind that — Tangle is a pretty name. I am named Sini, and I am called the Grandmother of these woods.”

Piper's Writing Competition Entry
Music in Classrooms
742 Words
This is a persuasive essay that I wrote for my High School English class

A study conducted by the Kaiser family Foundation poll found that 87% of middle and high school students believe that listening to music helps them to concentrate, and that they choose to listen to music while working at home because they believe it helps them to focus. However, in the traditional classroom setting, this is often not an option for students even though several studies have shown that playing soft music in the background while students are studying or taking a test can be beneficial because music increases your focus, your ability to retain new information and recall old information, and it can put you in a better mood to make studying or taking a test more enjoyable for students.
Playing music in the background of a classroom while students are studying or taking a test can help them to focus more on the task they are currently working on. Playing music may also help students be less distracted while they are working. If students are listening to music through headphones, or even through a speaker somewhere in the classroom, then they will not be as distracted by outside noise and distractions. This helps the students focus on the task at hand, instead of the distractions going on around them. In addition to eliminating distractions, listening to a type of classical music that students enjoy can put the students in a better mood and make them feel happier, this in turn makes the task at hand feel more enjoyable therefore they will be more focused on whatever it is they are working on. All this combined is just one of many clear ways that music in the classroom is beneficial to students learning and focus.
Music has been shown to boost levels of dopamine, which is a hormone known to increase the pleasure of whatever task people are doing during an influx of dopamine. In fact, a study conducted at McGill University in Montreal found that levels of dopamine in their volunteers were up to 9% higher when the volunteers were listening to music. Therefore, playing music in the background while students work will boost levels of dopamine in the brain, this in turn will make the task students are working on seem more fun and enjoyable. If something is enjoyable, then the majority of students are more likely to be motivated to do it, so students will be more motivated to complete their schoolwork and work harder on it. Dopamine also increases the amount of information that a person's brain can retain in a single sitting, this means that students will be able to retain more of their lessons if music is playing in the background while they work.
Music has also been proven to improve people’s ability to recall information they may have learned in the past, as well as retain new information that they learn while listening to music. This has been proven by two separate studies that both concluded the same results. The first of these studies was conducted at a university in the United States and found that their participants who were listening to music performed better when completing memory based tasks than their participants who were working in silence. Another study conducted in Japan concluded the same results, though the two studies were not linked in any way. With this in mind, it makes sense that if students listen to music while they are learning new information or reviewing it independently, they will be able to retain more of that information. In addition, if students listen to music while taking a test, they will be able to remember information on the topic that they learned in the past. All of that together forms a solid argument to allow students to listen to music while they work, either as a class or individually.
Allowing students to listen to music in the classroom while they are working, whether it is through a speaker for the whole class or through headphones for individual students, will help improve their education by helping them understand and remember the information that they are learning during class, as well as remember past lessons related to the subject at hand. Music can also help students become more motivated to complete their schoolwork and to do it well. If more schools would allow their students to listen to music in the classrooms, it could make school just a little easier for a lot of students.

July 18th daily || 601 words || Inspiration from the Ugly Duckling || No insults to my cabin, Mystery, keep going! This is just the first thing that came to my mind
—–
Ellie awoke, ready to write. It was nearing the end of July, the end of SWC. She belonged to the cabin, Mystery, who may have been behind by a lot most of the month. She looked at the scoreboard, seeing her cabin near the bottom. She sighed. When was her cabin even halfway to the top? She looked at the top of the scoreboard. Ellie grunted seeing the top cabin over a hundred thousand points above hers. She felt defeated. There was no way her team could catch up with that! Especially when she didn't really do her part. She no longer felt inspired to write as she walked away from the pity of a position her cabin was in.
Ellie then looked at the daily and noticed that it was a fair amount of points for a decent prompt. She wrote, but took the longest she ever took for writing a short story. She finally finished and walked to the main cabin to yell out that she had completed the daily challenge.
“700 points for mystery!” she exclaimed, showing off her writing in hopes that a host would notice. They didn't take notice right away, so Ellie patiently waited. As she sat, a person came up to her, most likely a camper.
“You're from mystery?” asked the person. They then laughed. “You- you're so behind right now!” they continued, laughing harder and harder and then walked away. Ellie was fuming mad from that. She was sick of being noticed as a camper of a cabin that was incredibly far behind. It was almost as if she were running in a physical race. She felt bad being noticed as a number of points rather than being noticed as someone with interesting writing. And the worst part was, no one did anything about it.

Ellie scrapped her daily. She was too mad to earn any points for her team. She didn't care anymore. If anything, she wanted her cabin to go to the very bottom of the scoreboard. And surely, it did get closer and closer the less she wrote.

The next day, she awoke in her cabin, miserable. She didn't pull out her notebook or documents on her device because she just didn't want to write. Ellie walked to the scoreboard, seeing a fellow camper of hers there.
“Oh my, we've sunken so low…” the camper cried out. “I've definitely got to write more!” suddenly, they stood up and sprinted away, which Ellie assumed was they were going to write a ton. She scoffed, watching the running camper. She felt discouraged and didn't want to be put out of her misery. But, there was a part of her, just a little part of her that felt suddenly confident. A motivation to write. She had an urge to grab her laptop and just type away until her fingers went numb. That's exactly what she did. People looked at her as if she were crazy. They were muttering, saying how she wouldn't impact anything.
Sadly, they were right. She couldn't help the place on her own. And if she tried, she would be so exhausted. She had to put sleep over writing. Some people were surprised by her feats though. She accomplished as much as she could, even if it didn't help that much. Her team may be near the bottom, but it's not points that matter. It's about inspiring writers, having fun writing, and learning how to write. And she thinks she may have taught everyone that it's not the scoreboard that counts, but how you feel in the camp that counts.
—–
Sorry, I kinda forget how the Ugly Duckling goes, so, this may be pretty far off…

this is a really rushed she-ra fanfic I made where I changed the ending to something else. I wrote more of the fanfic, but it was to long so I used this bit. (In the fanfic I wrote shadow weaver was still working for the horde so that's why she's mentioned.)

Catra grinned as Adora backed farther and farther away from her,getting closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. Catra then leapt at Adora. Surprised, Adora dropped her sword and fell back. Luckily, she managed to grab on to the edge of the cliff with one hand. Adora couldn't have been more grateful to have upper body strengh at that moment. Catra smiled. This was perfect, Adora was hanging off the edge of a cliff meaning couldn't run anywhere! She picked up Adora's sword and bent down near the edge of the cliff. ”Hey Adora. You really did pick the perfect direction to back into.“ she laughed, fingering Adora's sword.
”Please Catra don't do this.“ Adora pleaded.
”Why shouldn't I. Why shouldn't I finish you off right here and now. I can tell shadow weaver that you toppled off the edge and that I couldn't save you. Then you'd be out of my way… forever.
“That isn't what you really want.”
“How would you know what I want.”
“Your right Catra I don't… but I do know what I want.” Something about the soft tone in Adora's voice peaked Catra's interest.
“What do you want Adora?”
“Look… I- it doesn't matter okay now that you've…” Adora sighed. “Listen what makes you think we'd be happy back at the fright zone working under Shadow Weaver's command?”
“We'd have each other Adora. That's all we need.”
“But is that really how you want things to be. We'll never be able to take time to relax… to truly be happy together. I love you Catra and I don't want to fight you anymore. I won't fight you anymore.”
“You… you love me?” Catra said her eyes widening.
“Yes I always have.”
“I- I love you too.” Catra looked down at Adora. “It- it doesn't matter as much as I want us to have a happily ever after it won't work out. Your friends won't want me. Bright Moon accepted you because you were She-Ra. I'm… I'm nothing.”
“No your not Catra. Your everything. At least to me.”
“You really mean that?”
“Yes!” Catra looked down at Adora. The girl that had made her life miserable, but at the same time was the only good thing that had ever happened to her. The girl that had left her for bright moon the moment she found out how awful the horde was without a second thought. The only person in the world that she cared about. The only person in the world who knew and loved the real Catra.
wip

Weekly 3

Part One

Brainstorming

• The great mango tree
  
• Lots of magic used
  
• “Perfect” world
  
• dreams can become reality
  
• Portal system to travel with
  
• Lots of government experiments and labs
  
• Futuristic world
  
• Cats as a sign of good
  
• The moon as a sign of evil
  
• Two nations/families who are enemies
  
• Spirit animals
  
• some people don’t believe in fortunes, or anything related to destiny
  
• People ride dragons
  
• they don’t live in earth, but on the moon and mars. Earth is currently a dead world, unsafe for humans.
  
• Farmers are very respected
  
• People have evolved to three different types of human
  
• Humans now rely heavily on technology for survival.
  
• People think sleep isn’t important
  
• Copper is considered the best ore, since it has magical properties and is used more for machines, jewelry, etc.
  
• No one goes into the woods/the outside, since there’s a “witch”
  

Connections (using the bold ideas)

The year is 2164. Humanity has moved on from Earth. They have made civilizations on Mars and the moon. Everyone believes there are still people on Earth, but that’s a lie. The only things there are robots mining for copper. No one knows this, since the government wants people to believe their world is perfect, with no problems. Both Mars and the Moon have been modified and terraformed so humans can live there, but they still need to rely on technology to survive, since their homes are hard to grow food or breathe in. On the Moon, there is one mysterious tree people call the Great Mango Tree. It is the only plant known to survive the harsh climate and low oxygen level of the Moon. It does not produce seeds, and is immune to disease. Most people are either farmers or magicians, sometimes both. Farmers are respected since they grow the food needed to help the humans stay alive. Magicians are common, but their power depends on how good they are at magic. The least powerful are the students learning magic, and the best are special people who have trained hard and have unique genetics. Magic is used quite often, but it doesn’t affect the community much since most of it is harmless. One of the many new technologies in this futuristic world is the portal system. People can use portals to travel wherever they want, whenever they want. There are two families, the Posies and the Rileys. They are rivals, each family having their own strengths and weaknesses. The Posies rely more on magic and spiritual things, while the Rileys rely on tactics and cleverness.

Narrative (taking place on the Moon)

Harry Riley leaped around the greenhouse, looking for any tomatoes that were ripe. He was lucky the building had a high ceiling, since he wouldn’t be able to leap so high without hitting his head. As he jumped around in the low gravity, he saw a bright spot of red. “Yes!” He spied another tomato to take for the citizens to eat. He gracefully leaped to the tomato and plucked it. He then put it into the box of tomatoes and carried the box outside. “Dad? I got the tomatoes ready!”

A dark-haired man who looked just like Harry poked his head out from another room nearby. “Great! Just put them in the truck for delivery.” He sees the box and his eyes widen. “Wow! That’s a lot more than usual!” He grins and says, “Once you finish that, we’ll be done for the month. You can go explore, if you want. Don’t forget to bring your Smartband and your protector bot!”

“Okay! Bye!” Harry goes to the market first and finds a few things to buy. He had a good reputation since he was a farmer, and he would help people often. He made sure to stay away from Posies, since his father and his relatives told him he should stay away from them. Harry picks a few items that might be handy when he is in a bad situation.

Once he buys everything he wants, he swiftly runs back to the house to get his backpack. He dashes through his bedroom door and grabs his backpack. He unzips the zipper and runs around the house, getting all of the essentials he needs. He packs food, water, rope, clothes, money, and a lot of other gear.

He then gets his spacesuit and goes outside. He walks for a few minutes, and then he arrives at his destination, the Great Mango Tree. He finds a ripe mango and takes it. He uses a pocket knife to cut the mango and eat it, and then puts the seeds in a bag. He walks back to his house and goes up to his room to open his portal.

He excitedly walks toward a copper frame on his wall. He presses a button on it and the frame flickers to life. He goes through and the world changes around him. He’s soon in a world with lots of frames similar to his, some more detailed and some less. He looks around for one he hasn’t gone into yet. This was his hobby, going through random portals and seeing where he ends up. He sometimes plants mango seeds to see if they can grow there.

It took him longer than usual before finding a door that seemed interesting. He wrote it down in his notebook so he would know before he visited the same place again. He put his notebook and pen back before jumping inside. He closes his eyes and braces himself for anything that might happen.

—+—

He opens his eyes to find himself in a wasteland. “Huh?” This was not the Moon. Or Mars. Or any other planet he had read about. One of the many lights on a band on his wrist lit up. A warning label appeared. It read, “Warning! Low oxygen levels! Toxic gas!” Harry panicked and rummaged inside his backpack. He didn’t want to leave so soon. He wanted to explore this strange place.

He found a gas mask he bought earlier. He put it on and it seemed to work. He looked around in the greenish fog and found a city. It looked much worse than the perfect landscape of the Moon. He found stores and houses, but everything was abandoned and broken. He saw something approach him. Two glowing lights came closer to him. He tried to get rid of the fog, but it was useless. He decided to walk toward it. The figure became clearer and clearer until Harry finally saw what it was.

It was a shiny robot, with two lights that looked like eyes. On it was some writing printed on it with black ink.

Earth excavator number 649

Harry gasped.

Was this Earth?

Part Two

1. How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?

Most of it is used for farming and survival. There are a few abilities that humanity has mastered, like growth, portal, and shield. Growth is used for growing crops for survival. This can be used for any living thing, including animals and humans. Portal is the main way of transportation. People use a copper frame (like a mirror frame) or doorway and press a button on it. This was the first ability found, which is why people have made a gadget (the doorway) to make using it easier. Shield is a recently discovered ability, and even the best magicians can only hold their shield for a few minutes. No one knows much about it Scientists are looking for more ways to amplify the effects of magic and discover more abilities. They have found an ability that can radiate heat and/or coldness, but it’s still being studied.

2. Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.

They can see the magic object or object magic is being used on glowing. The color can be any color. Scientists are still trying to find what affects the color. They usually smell something pleasant, like flowers. They feel nothing, sometimes a bit of heat near wherever the magic is coming from if the magic is powerful. If someone is trying magic for the first time, they may experience dizziness after using a spell. They don’t hear anything, including anything surrounding them, people, etc. when they use magic, mainly because people have to focus to use magic. They don’t taste anything either, even if food/drink is in their mouth. The cause is the same reason as why people can’t hear things when using magic: because they are focusing a lot.

3. What is the origin of your magic?

The origin of the magic is usually explained by a folktale that the people of Mars and the Moon tell to their children. It does leave parts out about the destruction of Earth, humans starting climate change, etc. So here’s a version that does NOT have any parts missing. It started when the Earth was getting unsafe. A boy found an angel while taking a walk in the woods. The angel told him that she would grant him power to save humanity. She told him that he had a kind heart, and that if any greed or evil was to overtake him, all of the power would disappear. The boy received the magic and promised the angel that he would do good with this newfound power.

4. What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?

This is quite rare, since there’s not a lot of magic you can use, and not a lot of people are that powerful. Once, a scholar got in a fight with a friend. He discovered a way to use the magical, shields as a weapon. When his friend disappeared, he realized how much power he had. He attempted to take over the Moon, and failed when multiple powerful magicians managed to imprison him in a cage made of copper and silver. He is still alive today, a symbol of hate and resentment. Some say he is planning a devious plan to escape and rule the Moon.

5. Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?

Magic is very useful, so people who can use magic well are more likely to be elected as president. There are many leaders that used to be farmers. There are other jobs that are well respected, like engineers, scientists, and architects. There is rumored to be a group of elite magicians, scientists, and engineers who work with the president to make high-tech gadgets to use magic in ways that could change people’s lives. The president denied associating with any secret groups of organizations.

6. How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?

Magic is very common in this world. Almost everyone has it. People are always aware they have magic since the portal system wouldn't work for them if they didn’t have magic. There are a few people with genetic mutations who are either extremely good at magic or doesn’t have any magic at all. If someone doesn’t have magic, they usually get their magic later in their lives. Most people start using magic at the age of 5 or 6. People whose magic come later in their lives start using it from ages 10 to 15.

7. What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic?

One very notable example is how the humans escaped Earth. They didn’t have time to build a lot of rockets and get resources, so the first person with magic helped them. He opened the first portal to a moonbase (already set up by NASA and other organizations in previous years for space experiments) and everyone went through it. They soon colonized the whole Moon and in a few decades, ruled Mars.

8. What is an important symbol of your world?

One important symbol is a mango. It’s a sign of growth and goodness. The reason for this is because of the Great Mango Tree, a magical tree that produces lots of mangoes and grows on the Moon. It’s one of the main food sources for humanity, and without it, people wouldn’t have survived. Another important symbol is the dog. The dog is a sign of courage and strength. When humans moved to the Moon, they brought some animals. They worried that the animals might go extinct, but they somehow survived. The dog was the first one to start becoming more active on the moon, and has helped with numerous scientific experiments.

9. What are the limitations of your world’s magic?

The limitations for growth is that it takes up a lot of energy. If you use it too much, you’ll be exhausted for a few days. Portal can only be used if you have the copper frame. You can only go to places with similar copper frames. There is one portal to Earth, which is the one humans used to escape to the Moon. Shield is extremely hard to control and uses a lot of energy. Shields can be broken with other shields, and they can sometimes be really weak.

10. How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?

Usually, people start using magic around the age of 5. After that, they take classes at schools. School on the Moon is quite similar to school we have now, but they teach magic. Most magic lessons are about the history of magic and the science behind it. A few classes actually let the student practice magic. Most schools for the incredibly smart (and the incredibly rich) teach both the history of magic and the science behind it, and let their students practice magic.

Part Three

Science Fantasy

Eliot hops out of the dimension machine and looks around. “Hey, this isn’t 4123–“ His sentence gets interrupted by a loud roar. A strange glowing creature opens its mouth to reveal large, sharp teeth. Another person pops out of the Time Machine. “Eli? You okay? What was that, your stomach?” Eliot screamed. “ANNA GET BACK IN! This isn’t 4123! HURRY!” The girl runs to the machine and turns it on. She goes inside and leaves the door open for Eliot. Eliot dashes in and his eyes widen. “Only 1/3 of a tank left? We’re gonna run out of void essence!”

One of the creatures put the machine in its mouth, attempting to crush it with its powerful jaws. The glass cracked, and the machine made a few snapping sounds. More roars were heard outside, and Eliot looked through the dimension machine’s window to see that more creatures were there, and they were trying to eat the machine. Luckily, they started to fight over who would get to eat it, giving the two of them more time to escape.

Anna furiously typed on a keyboard. She shouts, “How did we even get here? I thought you typed the dimension number right!” Eliot snapped back, “Well, I did! Maybe you messed up the launch! Now let’s get out of here.” Anna hit a big red button on the wall. “Done.” The scene outside morphed from a dark forest to a strange whirl of light. Minutes passed, and Eliot checked the screens on the wall. One of them read, “35 percent left”. Another read, “1/6 hours until you reach your destination”.

—+—

After some more minutes of waiting, the machine stopped and they opened the door. They looked around, and sighed in relief when they saw the familiar green roof of their house. Hey raced to the door and went through, saying hello to their parents.

Inside the machine, a screen appeared with something written on it.

“Error! Sent to dimension 3123! Try again to go to dimension 4123!”

Hidden Worlds

“Where are we..?” Alicia looked around. This was nothing like the strange altar in the woods. “Alicia! RUN!” Alicia turned around to see her friend Rachel running from a group of people armed with some strange-looking weapons. They had sharp edges and seemed to have electricity running through it. One of the people shouted, “Stop right there! We’ll just erase your memory, we won’t harm you!”

Alicia gasped. Erasing her memory? She took Rachel’s hand and ran as fast as she could. The people ran after them, trying to tell them that the city was harmless. Both girls were scared out of their minds, and they didn’t stop running.

Alicia and Rachel ran through the alleys of the city, looking back to check if their pursuers were still chasing them. Rachel shouted, “Over there!” She pointed towards a ladder which they climbed. They ran and ran, the pursuers still coming after them, shouting at them to give up. They ran inside a house, getting a few strange looks and screams. They climbed some stairs found an attic with a window, which they broke and went through.

They ran on the roofs of the building, being careful not to slip and fall. Their pursuers were catching up to them. They jumped from roof to roof, finally finding an orange portal. Rachel smiled. “There! Let’s hurry!” Then, the worst thing happened. Alicia tripped and fell down to the streets of the city.

Rachel immediately found a ladder to go down, and picked up Alicia and carried her on her back. Alicia woke up. “My leg…” She winced as the pursuers ran towards them. Rachel ran towards the portal, but it was too late. They were cornered.

One of the pursuers pointed their weapon at Rachel. “Put the girl down and come with us. We just want our city to be safe.” The tone of her voice made it obvious that it wouldn’t be just a memory taken out of them. Then, Alicia stood up. Rachel worriedly gazed at her leg. “Alicia, you don’t have to stand up. I can carry you. We’ll be fine.” Alicia smiled at Rachel. She then suddenly pushed one of the pursuers and took their weapon. She dodged an attack and stood in front of Rachel.

“Rachel, I want you to leave me here and go through the portal. I’m sorry I fell and got us in a situation like this.” Rachel’s heart sank. “Alicia! But you-“ Alicia gave Rachel a piercing stare. “Go. I’ll be fine.” Rachel wouldn’t go without her friend. “I can’t leave you like this, we’re friends!” Alicia shouted, “JUST GO!” She pushed Rachel through the portal.

“No!”

—+—

Rachel woke up alone in the woods. The birds were singing their song, their voices in perfect harmony. Her head hurt. What was she doing here? She couldn’t remember anything. She closed her eyes and searched her mind for a clue. She remembered a light. A cold light surrounding her. And a voice. Who was it?

She looked around once again. Nothing was out of place. She walked a a few minutes until she found the path to her home. Unanswered questions filled her head. The forest was just as she remembered. Why was she feeling so strange?

It felt like something was missing. What could it be? Rachel couldn’t remember.

Then, her mind finally remembered something. A word. A name.

Alicia.

Dystopian Fantasy

I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock and stretch. I make my bed and go upstairs for breakfast. There, I see my mother cooking some eggs on a pan. “Why hello there, Elisha. I’m almost done with breakfast, so you can wait at the table.” I go to the table nearby and sit down. My older brother Camden is already there. He smiles and greets me. My little sister Greta comes down the stairs, yawning. She goes to the table and sits down.

We wait for Mother to finish making breakfast. The scent of bacon and eggs is intoxicating, and I smile as I see Mother take out a couple mangoes for us to eat later at work. She finishes cooking and puts everything evenly on 4 plates. She smiles as she hands us our food and says, “Here’s your breakfast, kids. Make sure to eat it while it’s warm.” I stare at the food, lost in my thoughts. My mother was probably the best chef in the world. Her food was never burnt or undercooked. It was always perfect. If only our world was like that too.

I was snapped back to reality when the sound of knocking echoed through the thin walls of our home. A voice outside says, “Mrs. Pearson?” My mother runs to the door and opens it. She smiles and says, “Patrick! It’s lovely to see you again. Would you like anything to drink?” The man’s face stays the same as he says, “No thank you. Some others are coming so we can escape.” My mother’s cheerful smile falters, her eyes losing the shine they had moments ago. “Patrick, I keep telling you this. I don’t want to go.”

I sigh and finish my breakfast. This happens every day. Patrick is a member of a small society who want to save people from Sympas. Sympas is where most people live, including my family. At first glance, it’s a place where people can be happy. Its beautiful cityscapes and It almost is, if they didn’t ban magic. After multiple incidents where magicians got framed, people started to despise magic. People in the government were jealous of magicians and their powers. They spread propaganda and executed magicians. The magicians didn’t retaliate. They wanted to be peaceful. Thanks to that decision, magicians were killed and disappeared from Sympas.

Patrick was one of the people in a place they called the Village. They are a group of magicians who rescue magicians from Sympas and train them. They’re not discovered by anyone yet, and they’re peaceful. The only reason my mother doesn’t want to go is because she doesn’t want me and my siblings to be in danger. We have to go outside Sympas and outside. It’s dangerous out there, with powerful monsters and harsh conditions. I watch as my mother tells Patrick that we’re not going to the Village. He leaves and we go back to our daily life.

—+—

I couldn’t sleep that night. I read a book, drink some water, but nothing helps. I have a dreadful feeling and it won’t go away. But then I hear something. I quietly sneak downstairs to see Patrick and my older brother. I say, “Camden? What are you doing?” He says, “I’m going to the Village. I can’t stand watching magicians being discriminated. I want to be with my people.” I gasp. Camden? Going to the Village? Desperate, I say, “Take me with you. Please.” Patrick sighs. “Elisha, I’m sorry, but we only planned to take your brother. We’ll come again some day.” Tears fill my eyes. “Promise?” Patrick smiles. “I promise.”

—+—

The next day, I tell my mother what happened. Before I can tell her that we should go too, a knock on the door distracts Mother. She goes to the door and opens it. “Why hello there, Patr—“ “Ma’am, you’re coming with us.” The man at the door wasn’t Patrick, but someone with a suit with the symbol of Sympas. My mother fidgets with her hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is happening. Can you explain?” The man just says, “Ma’am. Into the car.” She obeys and goes into the car. I watch from my bedroom window as they go somewhere far away.

I collapse onto my bed. What was I going to do? How would I explain this to my little sister? I start to cry. Then, I remember the promise I made with Patrick. They would come to save me and my sister. They might even save mom. They had magic. They could do it.

I sat and waited for them to come all day. After a few days, I lost hope.

Nothing happened for weeks. I tried to explain to my sister that mom wasn’t coming back. I tried to make things as peaceful as I could, but it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst. Everything was now a monotone life. Nothing could bring any emotion to my heart except for sadness or fear.

Until one day, someone knocked on my door.

༺═─── daily 18 ───═༻

swc fanfic but little red riding hood <3

༺═── word count; 612 ──═༻

One day, in a old cottage settled at the edge of a forest that looked as if it was from a fairytale: (spoiler alert, it was) lived three beings. Their names were Script, Hi-Fi and Poetry, and they existed alongside each other in unity for the extent of their early life. They each had an individual desk for writing; Script pored over plays written through the ages, Poetry exhibiting grace and elegance through verses and stanzas, and Hi-Fi excellent in describing the past and thoughts of the future. They bantered and laughed through the younger stages of their lives, and it was only a couple of years after that that the trio began to split apart from the inside. Eventually, they grew so different that their frequented haunts were so far away that they barely crossed paths with the other two of their siblings.

One day, a foreign cabin stopped by. Known as ‘Mythology’, they quickly convinced Script to venture through the forest to deliver a bundle filled with words to a cabin settled on the other side. Without considering how worried their siblings would be, Script quickly agreed – what could possibly go wrong? So, during a foggy night, Script slipped out of their window and bid goodbye to the grounds that they had grown so used to throughout the last couple of years. Then, they trailed down the pathway, waving goodbye to the flowers blooming in a soil of in-cabin points.

Myth was waiting at the end of the garden for them, and held out the picnic basket filled with words and bowed. “Good luck with your quest, and safe passage!” They told Script, before departing quickly, as if they knew how uncertain Script was feeling about the whole situation. Gulping and glancing up at the silhouettes of the trees in the forest before them, the cabin stepped into the shadows without too much hesitation.

The woods were as dark as they'd presumed them to be, with dangers lurking around every corner and the shadows of unknown creatures lurking behind bushes and next to trees. Script tried to keep going forward without looking too scared, but their posture slumped, and, as if it was a signal, a great beast bounded out of the forest and on the path in front of them.

“What do I see here?” Cabin Wars growled, pointing a claw at Script's soft red cape, which was pulled over their head in a makeshift hood.
“I'm Script, and I'm on a mission to deliver these words to Fairy Tales, who lives on the other side of the forest.” They slipped the cover off the basket so as to give Cabin Wars a glimpse of the treasures inside.
Grinning, the monster let Script pass and began plotting a way of stealing those words for its hoard.

Soon after, Script arrived at Fairy Tales' home. Although it seemed deserted, they shrugged and pushed open the door, which swung back and forth with a couple of alarming creaks. The cabin stepped inside the cottage with a glance around the surroundings, which withheld nothing of interest except a trail of words on the ground leading to the bedroom door. They quickly pieced them together.

Fairy Tales, what a big computer you have!
All the better to word-war with, Script.
Fairy Tales, what a big house you have!
All the better to plot in, Script.
Fairy Tales, what a wonderful amount of words you have!

Script reached the bedroom door and picked up the final sentence, just as the door swung open.
“All the better to steal from you, Script.” Cabin Wars smirked, lunging forward to tackle the cabin.
Everything went black.

Rani, Paige, and Aqua pound through the forest after Aqua and Rani's dog. The poor dog had never run away before and they'd had him longer than Rani had been alive. And Mama isn't home from work yet so they have to handle this alone. Rani and Aqua, and their neighbour Paige. Rani can hear the dog barking somewhere off in the distance, that is, until suddenly it stops.
“That can't be good,” Aqua points out, slowing to a stop at the front of the group. Paige and Rani slow up behind him.
“No,” Rani agrees, “Definitely not. What now?”
“We should follow the in direction where the barks were, maybe Fort will still be around there,” Paige reasons. “ And if not, there may be tracks we can follow.”
Rani raises an eyebrow in surprise. “You know how to do that?”
“Track? Yeah. We're wasting time, let's go.”
The three friends set off in the direction of the runaway dog once more.
The barks start up again a few minutes later, just as the kids approach the cabin in the woods where three witches are rumoured to live. And the barking, it's coming from inside the cabin.
“Fort…?” Aqua calls out, uncertainty layered thick on her voice.
As they stand there watching, the door to the cabin swings open and one of the rumoured witches steps out. She has blue hair reaching to her shoulders in waves, and it blows in the autumn breeze as she exits the cabin.
“Hello, children!” She calls out, although she obviously is right around the same age as the dog search party, even possibly younger than one or two of them.
“Um, hello?” Aqua responds, reigning in their wits before either of her companions.
The witch steps forward.”People call me Mrs. Whatsit, in case you were wondering. But I'd rather you call me Stingray.”
“Stingray,” Aqua says.
“Come in, come in!”
Rani glances at Paige for her opinion, but Aqua is already heading into the cabin after Mrs. Whatsit, or rather, after Stingray. They both disappear into the shadows of
“I'll go in if you go,” Rani says. Of all the people to say that to, of course it had to be Paige. There was no way Paige was going into a witch's house unless Rani did too.
Paige takes a deep breath before giving Rani a curt nod and stepping into the building before her mind can convince her otherwise.
Rani follows behind. The inside of the cabin is nothing like how she would've imagined a witches' house to look like. It's warm and cozy, one room serving as a kitchen, with a wood stove and fireplace in the back, a tea kettle currently hanging over the flames, a bedroom, three mattresses sit on the floor in one corner, draped with various sheets and quilts, and a living room, where a small low table surrounded by five stools is adorned with na built-in chess set, currently being used by Stingray and Aqua, who's somehow made himself right at home in what for all intents and purposes could be a haunted castle, Rani worries, as she realizes the quaint homeyness could all be nothing but an illusion. Suddenly two other women are there, the other two witches. Rani swears they weren't here a second ago, and her thoughts are confirmed when she hears Paige gasp beside her. “Where did you come from?”
Both new arrivals also can't be more than a few years different in age than Rani, Paige, and Aqua. Rani had never considered that the witches rumoured to live in the woods could be nothing but a bunch of teenagers. Frankly, because it didn't make any sense. It still didn't. They both had pieces of colour in their hair, just like Stingray. One had a bob with blue stripes making a crown around her face, the other had longer hair, the longest of the three, and magenta highlights in her dark hair.
“There's no place like home,” the one with blue stripes mutters under her breath, quietly but loud enough that Rani catches it.
“Isn't that from the Wizard of Oz?” Aqua asks, looking up from their chess game with Stingray and glancing at the witch who just spoke.
“Probably,” Stingray offers. “That's Soki. Or Mrs. Who as you've probably heard. She sometimes finds it difficult to verbalize her own words, so you'll often find her speaking in quotes.”
“And the other one?” Rani asks.
The ‘other one’ in question steps forward. “I'm Mrs. Which, but-”
“Witch?” Aqua interrupts in surprise, “so the tales are true!”
“W-H-I-C-H,” Stingray corrects.
“Ohh.”
Mrs. Which continues, “but please, call me Luna.
“Latin for moon,” Soki adds quietly.
Luna speaks in an interesting way, slowly, drawn out, and, something else… and Rani's first thought is that English isn't her first language and she maybe still isn't used to it. But that isn't quite right. It sounds almost like she isn't used to speaking, to making use of her vocal cords. Which, for someone who looks around fourteen, seems really odd to Rani.
“What is this place?” Aqua asks. “and where's Fort?”
“Fort?” Stingray clarifies.
“The dog.”
“There's no dog…”
“Yes there is!” Paige jumps in. “My friends here, they lost their dog, it's important we find him.”
“Things happen for a reason,” Soki starts saying, “and in their own time.”
Luna sits on a stool next to Aqua. “You're here for a reason, like Soki says. We've been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for us?” Rani asks.
“Yes. We're here to take you to SWC.” (929 because I'm an overachiever today lol)

WEEKLY II - 2923 words total

PART I - 960 words

1a - 105 words
Water filled, scarce land
Lots of fish
Once a well balanced world before most of it sank
Magic is widely used for small whims
Two monarchies, fighting for a crown
Very advanced technology
Talking pets
Crumbling economics
Resource monopolies
Pirates
Kind nobles are honored, harsh nobles are feared and disputed
Children are brought up to be rivals with historical enemies
Few give a second thought when someone vanishes
Various dialects of the same core language are spoken
Guilds
Honesty is valued
Underground network of criminals
Lost history
Longing for what used to be in their world
Tradition is valued
First priority for everyone is surviving

1b - 439 words

Litarium was once a prospering planet, filled to the brim with people, shops, empires, nobles, resources, and everything in between. That was before the Great Sinking occurred. Few people realize what their world used to be, and the few that do rarely care. The planet’s history was mostly lost to the unexplainable disaster that wiped out most of the planet, leaving only a scarce piece of land, and by an unfathomable miracle, tracing of magic. Magic isn’t widely used, but for those that possess it, it’s more of an obligation than a privilege. Magic wielders often hold positions of power, and their talents are best used helping others. After the Great Sinking, two monarchies were left standing, with most of their inner circles and nobilities intact. Quickly realizing that their kingdom was left to almost nothing, they opted to split the land geographically between them. Despite their original peaceful state, they’ve slowly crept towards outright war since, each family longing for their ancestral empire and seeking total control. As most of the world was sent to the bottom of the ocean, many of the world wide resources went with it, leading to a crumbling economy in the new world. A handful of individuals hold a monopoly on the majority of the resources still accessible, though magic is also capable of creating material items, though it takes a tremendous amount of energy to create large amounts. Over time, many explorers have taken up the task of digging resources, mainly metal, out of the ocean, metal that was later warped to create a system of underground/underwater habitable tunnels, rooms, houses, business offices, and anything in between. Among the dark alleyways of these tunnels rose an infamous network of criminals. When not provoked, they are often passive, but easily bribed to do others' bidding. Along with the seafaring expedition rose the pirates, a seafaring fleet of thieves. Despite their reputation, they are admired from afar by thousands of dreaming children, many of whom long for the open space of the sea. Because many parts of the world are only accessible by magic or boat, their once common core language has slowly split apart into smaller dialects, which while recognizable and somewhat understandable, are not related enough to be considered one language anymore. Among the common people, nobles are simply rich men with power. Kind nobles are well loved and received, often receiving the gifts and loyalty of the local people for their generosity, while harsh and selfish nobles are rejected, their power slowly eroding with each new generation. Among these people, honesty and generosity are valued immensely, no matter what happens.

1c - 416 Words

Adali sighed, gazing out at the sea just beyond reach, held at bay by mere millimeters of glass. From afar, the sea looked like such a free place, filled with open space, peace and quiet, far from the responsibilities that drowned her. She was a child of magic, perhaps, the daughter of the most powerful mage in the world, but deep down, no matter how deeply she hid it when her father was near, she knew she would never belong. Her magic was different, perhaps, but that wasn’t the problem. She didn’t want to be a mage. She knew she was being selfish, but… what if she just wanted to be normal? Like any other kid? What if she dreamed of being a pirate, just like the hundreds of children that came to admire her and her father’s party tricks every day? Was it really such a crime to wish she could hand her talents to someone else and walk away?

She stretched out her hand, feeling for the particles that made up the glass, the crystal clear panes of melted sand that separated her and the freedom she wished she could have. It would be so easy to simply unravel the bonds that held the pieces together, letting them shatter into a million pieces on the floor. But she could never. It was like a silent sense of responsibility held her hand in place, like a puppet, controlled by invisible strings. Taking one last, longing glance at the infinite blue mass pulsing with energy in front of her, she slowly forced herself to move towards the door, away from the invisible wall that trapped her.

The moment she stepped through the doorway, her father appeared at her side, already in mid sentence. “…coming for a visit, he wants to discuss the plans for the new royal fleet,” he said, seeming distracted. He looked at her, as if he’d just realized who he was talking to and what he was trying to say to her, and added, “I’d like you to be there.”

Adali turned her face away from her father, trying to hide her surprise and delight. She might deny it, asked later, but she’d been hoping to meet His Majesty in person for years, ever since she was a child and first learned his name. His generosity was legendary, and he, His Majesty Naniellus IV, that she would some day serve with great honor, whether or not she wished to run away at times.

PART II - 950 words

What kind of magic is used in your world? (90 words)

Mages have access to a tremendous arsenal of power, with their abilities ranging from talking to animals to splitting their own consciousness into multiple pieces in order to be in multiple places at once. For the most part, many of them focus their talents on creating materials, from wood, to copper, to sea shells. Despite their often limited use of their powers, some speculate that the most powerful of the mages could do just about anything they set their minds to, if only they had enough energy to do so.

How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities? (142 words)

For many, magic is an ability that a handful of people have and use to help create materials needed to help rebuild their world. They aren’t particularly involved with it, though they admire it from afar. Children often admire the mages’ magical abilities, and often enjoy shows filled with party tricks, though few of them have any idea what magic is truly capable of. Friends of the mages often hold more curiosity and awe for their strange powers, often encouraging them to pursue the possibilities, and helping them out where possible. The mages themselves are accustomed to using magic for everyday whims, from summoning their toothbrushes to teleporting themselves to the chair on the other side of the room, and are constantly immersed in its power and possibilities. Magic can do just about anything when the mages set their minds to it.

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? (89 words)

Generally speaking, magic is run on an honor system. Litarium is a place where honesty is held with great esteem, regardless of what it brings, and given mages power and responsibilities, they are largely trusted to act with responsibility and with honor. However, they are still watched by higher authorities, mostly with admiration for their work. Should a mage act in such a way that endangers others, there would be consequences, but for the most part, mages are trusted to use their own judgment and do the right thing.

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? (100 words)

To many, magic appears to be a rare gift possessed by a few lucky individuals. However, far more people have the ability to use magic lying inside them, unaware that they possess it. Magic is a tricky thing, appearing where it likes and laying dormant in other people, but should someone, or perhaps something, push the greater population to discover their hidden talents, magic would be far, far more common than it appears at the moment. Few people are aware of this, and those who know seem to have chosen to keep it a well guarded secret for time being.

What are the limitations of your world’s magic? (87 words)

The magic of the mages knows very few limitations, aside from the mages’ own energy. All power comes with a price, and the more the mages attempt to use their magic for, the more tiring it becomes. On occasion, mages will band together and pool their energy in order to create large amounts of material, as well as other similar tasks. Using copious amounts of magic at once can leave mages exhausting, occasionally even knocking them out, but the grow to know their own limits with experience.

How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)? (80 words)

At the moment, magic is viewed as a rare blessing a handful of individuals hold and use to help society. Many admire their abilities, in particular children, while some simply neither have nor want anything to do with it, while still a handful of others resent it, jealous of the mages powers. Most, regardless of their opinions on it, find it fascinating, some wishing the mages would explore their powers more, while others are happy with what they do now.

Describe the popular infrastructure in your world. (83 words)

Much of Litarium’s buildings are made out of metal, favored over wood because of its nature. Metal is stronger, sturdier, more resistant to water, and much easier for mages to create than other materials, such as bricks and wood. Many of the people’s favorite buildings are made of carefully, artistically placed metal, complete with dozens of windows and more often than not, lights of some sort. Most buildings are tall, as there is limited space to build outwards, they must instead stretch upwards.

What happens when magic gets out of control in your world? (96 words)

While no one is sure of exactly what happened the night the world sank, some have speculated that it was the result of uncontrollable magic. Whether it was a person attempting to harness an absurd amount of magic or simply raw magic acting of its own will remains unclear, but the colossal flood that night wiped out millions of buildings, destroyed billions of acres of land, and took billions of innocent lives. If it truly was the fault of magic and the people found out, the world would never look at mages the same way again.

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how? (88 words)

Both reigning monarchies in Litarium are heavily reliant on magic wielders, often called mages, for resources, often asking them to create large quantities of rare materials, such as bricks, or more often, metal, such as steel, for various projects they are working on. Mages themselves often hold positions of power in the monarchies, varying from Royal Advisors, to Dukes, to Barons, to everything in between. Mages are often voices of logicality in the government, often pointing out flaws in others' plans, and offering innovative solutions to various problems.

What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic? (95 words)

Many of the mages of Litarium have devoted much of their time and energy to creating materials, some of which were lost entirely in the Great Sinking, and many of which remain scarce throughout the world. While it does take a tremendous amount of effort on their part, mages have been known to band together to create enough raw material to build entire cities at a time, allowing for reconstruction of their once grand world to move quickly. Despite this, much still remains to be done, and mages remain at the core of the reconstruction.

PART III - 1013 words

Dystopian Fantasy - 350 words

Azari looks up to the sky, admiring the beauty of the night sky. She wishes could stay like this, just her and the stars, lying peacefully on the grass, not a government drone, soldier, or camera in sight. It felt like it had been months, maybe years since she had last been alone like this, since she had last had a chance to, well, breathe without constantly looking over her shoulder, without constantly running from the government, without constantly hiding her power. If they knew what she could do… it would be the end of her. They would strap her to a million poking and prodding machines, searching for the core of her power, searching for what made her who she was. They would torture her, tear her apart limb by limb, search every cell in her body, but they would never find it. Magic wasn’t a physical thing, bound to her by a machine, a contraption of sorts. It was a gift she was born with, perhaps from a God watching over her from above. Magic was something she could never understand, but could hope to someday harness. Someday she would show them all. Someday she would be free. Someday she would tear apart the government that bound them all in chains of laws. And that was why she was here, she thought, rolling to her feet and taking one last longing look at the stars.

Standing, she glanced around. She was alone. Good. She could never be too careful in this world, a shattered wreck of the beautiful stained glass it once was. She closed her eyes, opening her senses to the energy of the night around her. The grass was pulsing with life, the bugs humming with excitement around her. She slowly let her own energy wrap around it all, careful to hold some back for herself. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

“Open your eyes, child,” a voice whispered gently as the entire field seemed to burst with energy.

She did as the voice commanded, gasping as eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

Hidden World Fantasy - 332 words

Jax gazed longingly at his sister through the shimmering glass, just out of his reach. It had been three years since he’d last talked to her; three years since he’d accepted his offer to become a peacekeeper, a person who secretly wields magic to prevent conflict and repair damage around the world. In time, he would learn to cast illusions, create force fields, even heal the wounded and bring the dead back to life. But…

“She can never know,” a voice said from behind him, making Jax jump. “You knew this when you said goodbye to her, you knew she could never see you again.” Jax spins around, nearly falling out of his chair when he sees the headmaster gazing at him with curious eyes. He waved his hand, and Jax’s mirror returned to its normal, reflective state. Smiling sadly, the headmaster adds, “I once had a sister too, you know.”

Jax raises his eyebrows, prompting his teacher to continue.

“Lilian…” he said, his voice trailing off. “We were twins, actually. But I never got to say goodbye…”
He smiles sadly, tears slowly fighting their way into the corners of his eyes. His heartbreak, his longing, his grief, they’re all written in every fold, every crevice of his face, held there plainly, almost shamelessly. “She was thoughtful, and always looking out for others. No matter what happened, she would always look for the best in other people. She would have made a fantastic peacekeeper, even a headmistress, far better than I will ever be, even at 12, as she was that night.”

“Would you have done it anyways?” Jax asked, the words left unspoken written clearly on his face.

“I’ll never know,” he replied. “But we do this to keep people like them, people we care about, safe. Even if it means letting go.”

Letting go. Letting go of the past; letting go of grief; letting go of longing. The price they paid, Jax thought, a sense of duty coursing through him.

Urban Fantasy - 331 words

Daria closed her eyes, breathing in the night air, the bustling energy of the city almost tangible in the air. The city itself seemed to have a mind of its own, constantly shifting its paths, like the labyrinth it was. Tonight she had her path all marked out, but she wasn’t afraid to deviate from it if the city had other plans. Whatever made this place alive; whatever gave the city a life of its own, it was not to be anticipated or tampered with. She would expect the unpredictable in tonight’s heist, and would be rewarded well for it.

She glanced at the ceiling, the hunk of cement limiting her vibes of the city to the one way windows on the other side of her hotel room. She rarely stayed in one place for too long, as constantly being on the run was a bit of a hazard of being Zetarium’s most famous, or perhaps, infamous, thief. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, concentrating on the humming energy of the particles that made up the room’s ceiling before snapping her fingers.

Opening her eyes, she smiled. She was finally getting the hang of this whole passing through matter thing. She looked out at the city like a hawk surveying its prey, attentive to every shift, every detail. If so much as an ant moved, she would know. Rumbling sound swept the entire city, quite possibly the entire world, she thought, as a booming rumbling echoed off every wall, every crack in the sidewalk, anything it could squeeze itself into and bounce off out. She opened her senses, hoping to find the source of the noise.

A waste of time.

Right before her eyes, entire city blocks were rotating, shifting life gears of a machine, controlled by the city itself. Clearly nothing was going to go according to plan tonight, but hey, it’s always an adventure, she thought, casually hopping off the room and reappearing on the street below.

Daily 513 words


Cabin Wars, and the Three Campers

Narrator: Once upon a time, there were three campers, who lived inside the Adventure Cabin. One day, they went out to sleep and do IRL things, and were away from there cabin for a long time.

Narrator #2: Meanwhile, a daily had changed. Cabin Wars had came to the cabins, and battle had been fierce with challenges. And, the three campers, since they were away, couldn’t do anything about it. In fact, they forgot cabin wars was one that day, cause they never kept the schedule of cabin wars in their heads.

Narrator #3: During this time, when cabin wars went around the road to the cabin, life was tough for the campers and leaders. They got attacked whenever their shield was down, and they couldn’t deal with most wars. You see, most wars required a lot of people, and since these three campers were gone… it was still a bigger impact. And, these campers, they wrote fast. But without them, the cabin was losing more and more points and going down the rankings.

Narrator #3: And, let’s take a look at what the three campers were doing, first.

Camper #1: Skipping down the hill and exploring nature! Hmmmmm this flower smells nice!

Camper #2: At a shop with my family. I think something important was happening today… but I can’t figure it out. What was the daily for SWC again? I forget, honestly. Couldn’t be that important though, I bet it’s a no point daily.

Camper #3: Sleep. Sleeping in. It’s summer time. Sleep. Sleeping in. Wake up, brush teeth, go to breakfast. Do arts and crafts, write words, count them in the word count studio(s), go back to sleep, forget everything else that was happening and forget to do the daily, which so happens to be Cabin Wars.

Narrator #1: And now, let’s take a look back at what was happening inside their cabin.

Campers from another cabin: ATTaCk! YOu mUsT WRITe a TRiLlION WORdS IN ThE neXt hOUR Go!

Narrator #1: Well, not really like that. But that’s what it felt like to the campers and leaders of the cabins who had worked extremely hard.

Campers and leaders from the three campers’ cabin: AHhHh +200 words from a fan fiction! +400 words from a draft of an epic novel. +100 words from ranting. +459 words from character bios. New total: 1159/1,000,000,000,000 or something.

Narrator #2: Meanwhile, in another cabin…

Cabin: No wars, come on!

Campers from the three campers’ cabin: WAR!!!!!!!

Narrator #3: And meanwhile, the three campers…

Camper #1: Nature, quite beautiful, I think I’ll come inside now, I haven’t check online on scratch yet. I wonder what’s on todays daily mango menu!

Camper #2 Shopping still! We got some fresh apples, we baked a pie for a ceremony, I feel like I’m forgetting something…that may do nothing with this, but rather, hmmm… SWC! Wait, todays daily should be… (stunned eyes) cabin wars…

Camper #3: Hmmmmm I’ll just go upstairs now and sleep for more.

My table of contents™


Dailies:

July 16: Not completed
July 17 Linh Song's short story
July 18 Snow White teleports to SWC
…
July 24 A descriptive poem using the five senses (though I only used four)


Weeklies:

Other stuff:
Why Zinnea is awesome!


—————————————-
Anastasia/Stacey ✎ Writer ✎ Bookworm ✎ She/her
#Adventureftw!

Awesomesauceabby on how souls work in Disney/Pixar

When I was in eighth grade, I often entertained myself by watching Pixar fan theory videos, and I always remember one of these which seemed a bit… far-flung. The video explained one person’s theory as to whether or not the toys in the Toy Story films have souls. In short, the maker of the video said that only Woody had a soul, because he saw beyond the other toys’ only goal, which was, of course, to be played with. However, to say this would be to undermine the very definition of a soul. In this essay, I will explain how I perceive the functions of different Pixar characters’ souls, as well as explaining the nature of a soul itself.
It is near impossible to talk about souls without bringing up religion. Therefore, I’ll be straight with you– I’m a Catholic and everything that I’m about to say, while founded in solid logic, is based on what I have learned about souls from a Catholic standpoint. Therefore I ask that if you are not Catholic or Christian that you do not feel offended by the beliefs expressed in this essay, and to keep in mind that I’m only theorizing about animated characters.
To begin, I’m going to start with the character Joe Gardner from Pixar’s Soul (what better way to start talking about souls than with the movie that deals with them most directly?). In the film, it is suggested that a body and a soul can be separated– this is quite false. A body and a soul are joined from the moment of conception, and cannot be separated except by death– in fact, death itself is the separation of a soul from its body. My theory is that Joe’s soul was never separated from his body in the first place, maintaining a connection throughout the whole movie. You’ll notice that when Joe is on the way to the ‘Great Beyond’, he’s the only one who does not seem to have accepted his fate, even though there are several souls with him and a few of them appear younger than Joe is. Joe was still alive, and therefore was given the instinct to run away from the Great Beyond and return to his body. This, of course, is quite a stretch from reality, but it’s the best I can think of given the amount of creative license used in the movie.
The next characters I will look at are the rats in Ratatouille and the fish in Finding Nemo and Finding Dory. In this case, I will first explain the types of souls. There are three types, and each one has more functions than the last. The simplest soul is the vegetative soul. It is the sort of soul that a plant has. It gives the plant the ability to nourish itself and reproduce. The second is the sensitive soul. This soul is the kind you would find in an animal. It has the powers of the vegetative soul, but it also lets the animal interact with its environment by moving around and making use of the five senses. The third and most complex type of soul is the rational soul. This type of soul is the kind that a human has. It has the same powers as the vegetative and sensitive soul, but also gifts the person with intellect and free will. Clearly, Remy and Nemo have an intellect and a free will, despite the fact that they are animals and not humans. The explanation for this is simple: Pixar depicts these animals as though they had rational souls. The movies would be quite boring if Remy behaved like a normal rat, or if Nemo behaved like a normal fish.
Third, I will look at Cars and Wall-E. Now this is where it starts to get interesting– in real life, cars and robots are not living things. However, it is suggested that in the Cars movies, cars are living, breathing creatures. As to how these cars nourish themselves and reproduce, this is long disputed and I’m not going to go into it in this essay. I will simply say that the cars in Cars are alive. In this sense, we can safely assume that they also have rational souls, as they clearly have an intellect and free will. In the movie Wall-E, Wall-E and Eve are robots. While it would be endearing to say that they too have rational souls, this would be false. They are robots, albeit very advanced robots, and robots do not have souls, however creative they appear.
Lastly, I will look at the most puzzling set of characters in Pixar’s franchise, the characters who inspired me to write this essay in the first place: the toys in the Toy Story films. They clearly have intellects and free wills, and they move around their environment freely and enjoy the use of the five senses, yet as toys they have no need or ability to nourish themselves or reproduce. In other words, they have the powers of the rational and sensitive souls, but lack those of the vegetative. The type of soul that the toys have simply does not exist in real life.
In conclusion, many of Pixar’s beloved characters are surprisingly complex as to how their souls work. This creativity is what makes Pixar’s films so exciting and intriguing. In my opinion, understanding the souls of characters gives more insight into the characters themselves and what makes them so special. Whether it’s an animal with the soul of a human, a robot who imitates human behavior, or a human soul who travels beyond his body, the souls of Pixar characters show us in extraordinary ways how life might be if the seemingly small details of existence were changed.

Main Cabin Daily 7/17
734 words

“I miss you,” she says. Her voice is tinged with static. It’s the bittersweet smile that lets tears prick at the corner of my eyes against my will. Her lips, reddened in the California heat, are blurred and pixelated. It’s yet another reminder of how far apart we are, no matter how much we try to pretend we’re in the same room together again.
I grin. I’ve gotten pretty good at making myself look genuinely happy, at least over a FaceTime call. “I miss you too. Hey, I’m counting down the days. I can’t wait for you to come back home.”
“Love you too. Just a couple more months and I’ll be back in New Jersey again.”
She holds her hand up to the camera, and I do it too. I’m always confused about why we do it— it’s not like we can feel each other through a computer screen, as much as I wish we could— but I suppose it’s more about the symbolism. We can hold hands nearly from three thousand miles away and pretend that we’re close again, in the living room huddled together under a blanket fort binging our favorite shows over and over.
Sometimes it’s nice to pretend.
-
At first after the transfer, we called every day. It was nearly normal, if you could excuse the moments that the screen froze and we sat there, waiting to hear a voice again. There didn’t used to be any silence between our words. When we were together, you could say there was never a dull moment. If we weren’t talking, we were laughing. Or we were making wild gestures toward each other, at the very least. But never silent; never as still as the thirty seconds I stared at the light emanating from the computer screen waiting for my girlfriend to move. It was almost like she was dead; like we were in a movie. One of those movies where the couple loves each other more than anything. Then one of them dies and the other just sits there, waiting, unwilling to believe that everything that happened had come down to this.
Yeah. That seems like a good metaphor for us.
-
With every phone call, I could feel us diverging onto our separate paths. And each time a day went by without hearing her voice, it tore another wound in my soul. Her schedule got busier and busier. And eventually, she was too busy for me.
I wonder if she was living in ignorance. Did she think that we would be okay? Maybe she thought we could weather this storm. Maybe she always thought that the first drops of rain, no matter how violently they stabbed the ground, no matter how high they flooded the streets, were a sign of spring. And spring means life, right? So maybe she didn’t want to weather the storm at all.
Maybe she forgot that spring means rebirth. And maybe she forgot that rebirth is about starting anew.
Or maybe she remembered.
-
In a way, I lived in ignorance too. I kept up the facade that our relationship was perfect. With every call I smiled, told her I missed her and that I loved her, and then we put our hands on the screen.
The screen was colder than usual.
-
When the phone stopped ringing and the excuse-dotted texts stopped coming, I knew that we were over. She knew it too. We held out a week of nothing before we finally said it aloud. I bid her good luck and goodbye. “Read: 5:08pm.” Then nothing.
-
Funny, really, the way I got moved out to California seven months later. To the day. I heard from a friend that she hadn’t come back from California after all after her time was up. I was the only thing rooting her here, I suppose. I didn’t expect to see her when I went; I packed up my bags, taped all my boxes, and drove. I arrived in the middle of the night, heaving everything toward my temporary apartment.
-
I drop a bag and turn around to grab it.
“Need help?” comes a voice from behind me. I turn back.
We gasp almost in sync. “I didn’t know you were here,” she whispers. It’s been so long since I’ve heard her voice for real. And seen her, too.
“No,” I reply, almost coldly.
Pause.
“I miss you,” she says.

Writing Competition Entry - Willow by the Water

Last night.
The thought went around and around in Willow's mind, like a mantra, or a song stuck into her head: the kind that, no matter how hard you try, you can't erase from your head. Willow tossed and turned, the thought filling her mind.
Last night.
Willow groaned - inwardly, outwardly (was that even a word?), she couldn't tell. But she had to get away, get away from those words, before they took her over.
Last night.
Willow shifted further back in her bed. If she was as far back as possible, her head touching the wall, she could just barely hear the roar of the waterfall in the distance. Maybe that would be enough?
Last night.
It wasn't. She climbed out of bed and turned on the lamp, wincing as light filled the room. As quietly as possible, she tiptoed across her room and slipped out the door.
Creaking down the stairs and through the hallway, she didn't feel safe until she had opened the front door and she felt the cool night air on her skin. The waterfall was louder now.
Last night.
She focused her mind on the feel of the polished stone on her bare feet. The thought vanished, and she continued on.
Willow had traveled this pathway hundreds of times. She was used to the night. It was her friend, in a way, helping her along. She crept along the stones until it opened into a lake.
The lake was a kind of sapphire-silvery-blue under the moonlight, glittering and gleaming. Every so often a silver fish would pop out, making Willow giggle. The lake lapped at Willow's toes, filling her with calm and peace.
If the lake was beautiful, the waterfall was beyond description. The silver spray glinted off the stones that glittered at the bottom. The water rushed into the lake, never-ending, always moving.
It was a long time before she left the lake. It filled her with a kind of peace and made her never want to leave.



“Time to get up!”
Willow groaned and rolled over. Her head painfully bonked the alarm clock. “Ow!” she yelped, sitting up.
“I said, time to get up.” Willow's mother appeared in her room. “It's the first day of school!”
The next hour was a blur. Get dressed, eat breakfast, brush your teeth, put your shoes on, grab your backpack, take pictures, get on the bus. It wasn't until Willow was nearly at school that reality was knocked into her.
She was about to begin the first day of middle school. An entirely new school, new hallways, new classrooms, new students. The bright red doors looked taunting from far away . . . waiting for her to fail. She gritted her teeth and tried not to scream.
The bus pulled into the parking lot. Kids chattered as they pushed and shoved to get into the narrow aisle.
“6th grade! I can't believe it!”
“Ohnoohnoi'mtotallygonnafailAAHHH!”
“Wow . . . this school is crazy . . .”
“When do you think I'm gonna be able to sign up for theater club?”
“Oh, I totally should have worn my yellow dress . . .”
“YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON GRAYSON?!?!”
That last comment made Willow wince. This was exactly what she had hoped middle school wouldn't be . . . a popularity contest, every girl in the school comparing outfits and crushes, with no respect for anyone else.
Yup. Totally the protagonist of the average middle school story. She'd read plenty of those over the previous summer, in preparation. And they were all the same: girl arrives at middle school, discovers that she is an outcast and gets bullied, finds a friend group, and is totally fine. Willow wasn't sure about the “totally fine” part, though. Would it ever really be over, even if she did find friends? She'd been an outcast all her life, and she didn't see that changing anytime soon.
After thanking the bus driver, she entered the school.


The next few hours were absolute chaos.
Not the classes. The classes were fine - the teacher spent the entire time going over rules and grading systems. It was lunch that was chaos.
Willow got in the lunch line and was handed a slice of pizza. She grabbed a chocolate milk and headed to a table. Not a single person sat next to her.
The air was filled with the roar of cafeteria noise. People talked and talked and talked for what seemed like hours. There wasn't a single moment of respite - no oasis.
This never happened in elementary school, she thought. She just wanted a moment of quiet and peace, like the waterfall gave her. The moment lunch was over, she was out of the cafeteria.
After two more classes, Willow finally found herself on the bus home. She looked out the window and thought of her waterfall. She left the open doors of the bus running faster than she had ever run before, soaring through the yard as she dashed to the waterfall, tears flying back from her face.
The blue waterfall sparkled in the sunlight, glittering with a thousand colors Willow had never seen at night. She fell down beside it, crying, and listened to the water.
That night she was still at the waterfall, watching the water roar. She couldn't do this again. She had to do something about the fear that was inside her when she was at the school, the fear of never making friends, of never being seen.
No. She could do this - that was what she was here for, wasn't it?
Tomorrow, think about the waterfall, she realized. Think about how it rushes on, in a thousand shades of beauty, overcoming every obstacle. Think about the lake, and bury your feelings deep inside.
Then stop thinking about these words before you seem like an adult.
She stood up, looking back at the waterfall for a second before she left the clearing.


After that day, she didn't visit the waterfall every day anymore. Once, she went there in the afternoon, accompanied by two girls. They oohed and aahed at its beauty. The girls went with her almost every time after that.
Once, when Willow went alone, several years older, she spoke to the waterfall and the lake.
“I know I should feel silly right now,” she said out loud, running her hand through the water of the lake. “Speaking to a waterfall - but you hold such a place in my heart I can't feel that you aren't a living thing. And I don't really care what other people think of me anymore.” She paused, moving her hands steadily, back and forth. “And it's because of you that I am who I am now. I don't care what others think anymore. You helped me with my courage, my strength. And for that . . . I thank you.”
The waterfall roared louder, as if it understood.
“I can't go back here anymore. I'm moving. I wish I weren't. And I'll have to make new friends. But when I do, I'll remember you.” She stood up and turned around, casting one longing look at the waterfall she loved before disappearing into the trees. A few moments later, a whispered thank you echoed around the waterfall and the lake, before it was swallowed up by the water.
Willow never went there again. But she always remembered it, when she told the story to her college friends, and her children, and grandchildren, and she remembered it when she was too old to walk, and in her final moments. It was one thing she never forgot.

Daily 18:

505 WORDS

Inspiration from Goldilocks and the three bears:

Goldilocks wondered in the woods. She had fled home and didn't know where to go. There was dirt everywhere and it was getting all over her fancy new dress. Then, after walking at least forty-five minutes, she came across a small, really old, rickety, cottage. She decided to go inside, like all fairy tale characters decide to do. She walked in, and then, the door locked as she quickly walked in. There was nobody in the cottage, and three bowls of porridge. She ran to the porridge, as she hasn't ate lunch. When she ate the mother and fathers porridge they were both too hot and too cold, so they weren't right for her. She then walked toward the couch and looked at the paintings. There was one of a journal that looked pretty similar to one that she had seen before. She touched the painting and ran her hands across the canvas. The canvas magically shook and the painting seemed as if it were different than the others. She was slightly confused, but she touched it again and it teleported her to the wilderness. Again. She saw a place full of campers and different cabins. Goldilocks didn't have the slightest clue about where she was. She was lost. Then, a person came up to her and said, “Hello! Welcome to the place of SWC!” Then Goldilocks asked, “What is SWC?” The child said that SWC was writing camp and that she could go check in with the leader Birdi at the Main Cabin, office, or anywhere that was open to new campers. She was very confused about why she was teleported here. Then she signed up with Birdi, she went to her cabin and met the other campers. She wasn't supposed to end up in SWC but she was glad she did after meeting new people and talking to others. It was time to go to bed and get some rest so she went inside her cabin. Goldilocks was assigned to the Poetry Cabin. She was so excited to start writing, later when she woke up she felt great. Then she got ready she brushed her teeth and went to go get breakfast! She sat down at a table full of campers hoping that she'd make a lot more friends. Later in the afternoon, she saw some numbers on the library computer. She didn't notice she would get messages from people. It showed that she had fifteen followers and that she was invited to SWC studios. She never knew how to use technology she had to ask someone to send her the cabin guide. Goldilocks understood everything, but the worst thing was she didn't know how to type a story. One friend came over to help her so she could start off with a nice sentence. After writing at least five-hundred words she sent a message to one of the leaders for help. They came over and told her how to submit and how to count her words. Then she lived happily ever after.

Daily 18:755 words


The White Rabbit had been so stressed lately today. All from the sunrise to the sun peak, he has been hopping around the lovely Wonderland, disturbing everyone from their duties.

“I'm late! I'm late!” he panicked even more than usual.
The Cheshire Cat had been watching him stress so much. he is so entertaining when he is this stressed.
“Oh, dearie, whatever's the matter?” They grinned, revealing all of their minty fresh teeth.
“NO TIME TO LOSE!!” The White Rabbit yelled. “I NEED this weekly done otherwise it's the end of the world!! My watch is steadily counting down to 11.59 pm UTC!!”
“Oh, that does seem so hurried!” The Chesire cat smirked. “11.59 pm is so close, I mean, two hours is just not enough time!”
“That's ALSO on top of dailies, my writing competition entry, Word Wars, ad not to mention in-cabin activities!!” The White Rabbit sobbed.
“Dailies? They're not all that bad.”
“Other than when it's CABIN WARS!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The White Rabbit pulled a rusting typewriter out of his waistcoat pocket and started to type at light speed, his watch ticking menacingly. Now, what potion made him type so fast? Unless he had too much pepperminty coffee.

Just then, Alice, the girl who had followed him into this place, had wandered over him, wondering what he was doing.
“Oh my, was the Queen of Hearts going to chop your head off again?” The Cheshire Cat sneered.
“Fortunately, no.” Alice simply said. “Dear, it looks like White Rabbit had pulled himself an all-nighter over the weekly!”
“I DID NOT PULL AN ALL-NIGHTER!!!”
The White Rabbit looked around at Alice, the dark bags under his eyes showing now more than ever.

Alice looked up at the sky. The sun had now lowered down to the west, and the bells had chimed for brillig. The White Rabbit sobbed in relief.
“Oh, oh thank her highness the Queen of Hearts our shield comes up at brillig!!” he wailed.
“Ah, I had vaguely forgotten it was Cabin Wars today.” Alice chirped.

The White Rabbit sighed and mopped his furry brow. “I'm a mess, I am.” he sighed. “How I ache so much, but no, must… do… weekly.” He resumed o tapping away on his typewriter, his typing much, much slower than before.

Alice watched him sadly as she bit into a tuna melt the Cheshire Cat made for them. Except the White Rabbit didn't pick up his, and instead typed away defiantly.
The sun lowered even more down until it melted into the wonky horizon, Alice decided that enough was enough.
“White Rabbit!” she pleaded. “Look, I don't think all of this writing sat once is good for you. You need sleep, and the Tuna Melt for tea, and you wouldn't be able to write as well without those!”
“And about everything else,” added Cheshire Cat.
The White Rabbit sighed for what seemed like the millionth time today and said. “You're right. Alice. Cheshire Cat. I think we should visit the Queen of hearts and hope she doesn't chop our heads off.”
“That's the spirit I'm looking for!” Alice exclaimed. “No, let's hop off into the palace, eh? Shall we use your rabbit holes?”
“I might as well,” replied the White Rabbit.
“See you there!” The Cheshire Cat grinned. And with that, they vanished, leaving only their grin.

They had finally arrived at the Queen of Hearts' royal palace, which was adorned with hearts in all the different shades of red and pink, and they were everywhere. Their royal guards stood as still as statues guarding against any dangers, and immediately surrounded Alice and the White Rabbit.
“Excuse me, but we would just like a word about the SWC weekly with her Royal Highness.” Alice curtseyed. The guards stepped outside and allowed the entrance to open up into the gleaming castle.

“OH NO!!!!!” Shrieked the Queen of Hearts. “You pulled an all-nighter for the weekly? And you didn’t have any tea? White Rabbit, you should know this by now!!”
“Know what?” The White Rabbit asked.
“That sleep is over SWC!! Is it not already clear?”
“Oh, I suppose not, your highness.” He bowed low.
“Oh, don’t blame it on you. And call me Robin. But really, do take breaks if it means that you will not sleep because use of some weekly!”
“That makes sense.”

Alice, the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat returned to their shady spot in the magical forest. And, as soo as the sat down, the White Rabbit rpflopped down and fell fast asleep.