July 2022 SWC Writing Megathread

Peach_Drawing

daily - july 20
my words: 543?
writing by the amazing @Dawn_Camps!

Okay, first off, I love the concept of this piece! I'm very interested in how Celia will interact with everyone else at the school and really want to read more xD I think this is a cool idea, and the details of Celia's behaviour are well-thought-out. Overall, I really enjoyed reading this excerpt. Below, I have some suggestions for you, though as the writer you can do with them what you wish.

Celia stared sullenly out the window of her – No, her parents’ – limousine, not her’s.
“Miss Celia-” Her chauffeur, Jameson began spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

I like the detail about how the limosine is actually her parents' instead of hers. Though her age isn't mentioned in the excerpt, I think this helps establish that she's young enough that she doesn't own a vehicle of her own, and the detail of it being a limousine instead of a car and having a chaffeur helps establish her high status. The “not hers” part is a bit redundant since it was already mentioned in the sentence earlier.
Since Jameson doesn't actually finish his sentence, I think began would be a better word to use here, though this might just be a personal preference.

“Don’t. Even. Start.” Celia hissed, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. Jameson James opened his mouth to say something more, but seeing Celia’s glare closed it again.
They rode together in silence for a few more minutes. Jameson focused focusing on driving – or pretended pretending to be focusing – while, Celia, watched watching the endless green pastures and fields go by.

Some of these sentences feel a bit cramped, so I would suggest adding a few commas to help it breathe easier. I also edited the “or pretending to be focusing” part so that it didn't feel too crunched together and changed the tenses of focused/pretended/watched to fit with the past tense of the excerpt, but I think it would also be fine after replacing the period after “a few more minutes” with a comma ^^ I'm not quite sure why Jameson would be pretending to be focusing, though, so a bit more elaboration on that would be helpful.
I like the description of the pastures and fields as endless; it evokes a clear image and I think it adds an interesting contrast between the limousine and the area around it.

The school, palace would have been a better word for it, suddenly loomed in front of them. It was a building that would have made most fairies, even princesses, gasp with awe. The crystal towers twirled up into the sky, seeming to glow a cotton candy pink in the sunlight. Silver gates surrounded the property, which was too large to see where the fence ended. There had to be 6 buildings visible from the front and at least a dozen more hidden from view. Fairies flitted around the campus, all dressed similarly but somehow each one looked looking unique at the same time.
But the sight didn’t impress Celia. To her, it just solidified her belief that this school was full of prissy lower classes.

I like the description of the school- it definitely seems like it would be better if it were called a palace xD During the description, I kind of forgot that Celia was in front of it, though. Maybe include more of her thoughts, such as “The school suddenly loomed in front of them- though Celia would choose the word palace instead of school-…” or “Silver gates surrounded the property, but it was so large that she couldn't see where the fences ended” if that makes sense. Since you've been using the word “the” for most of the paragraph, the change to “this” seems out of place.

Soon enough, their whispers reached her:
'Do you see her outfit?'
'Are you kidding? Look at all her luggage!'
'I hear she’s a princess!'
'She’s stuck up enough to be one.'
'Did you see how she turned her nose up at us?'
'What a snob.

It's a bit hard to differentiate the whispers from normal sentences and tell exactly who they're coming from, so just a few edits to make it clearer (though how to do this is more of a stylistic thing).

Celia reached the huge, oak, double doors and waited for someone to open them for her. No one moved.
“Jameson!” she shrieked.

Starting a new line for new dialogue.

Celia walked inside, not looking at Jameson. He followed, dragging the cart through the door.
“Oh, you must be Miss Celia Tupperboon!” A rotund woman exclaimed, appearing from behind a counter. She reached out to take Celia’s hand then withdrew it.

It would be more interesting if the inside of the school were described as much as the outside were since I can't visualize what the inside is aside from the counter. Maybe a bit more about what Celia thinks of Ms. Wattledorb and the inside as well?

“Well, you’re going to have to get used to it, young lady-” Ms. Wattledorb seemed to remember who she was talking to. “I’m mean, of course. I just thought you would be more comfortable in your rooms rather than standing out here.” She glanced around at all the students watching the exchange.
“Fine.” Celia could feel her cheeks heating up, but hoped no one else noticed.
She followed Ms. Wattledorb out of the registration building with Jameson trailing behind. They walked across the campus and approached an oak tree.
“Is this where I’ll be staying?” The disgust in Celia’s voice was obvious as she viewed the large tree.

I didn't realize this was the registration building since the description was a bit vague, and it doesn't feel like the building actually had people in it until it was mentioned when Ms. Wattledorb looked around. “Viewed” is a very lifeless word, so unless that's what you're going for I think it would be better to replace it with something like “looked at” or “observed”.

Last edited by Peach_Drawing (July 20, 2022 20:24:38)

ka26dhan

critique for this writing! - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6471867/ (@Deedee8)

I really like this writing, because when your characters are talking(thinking) you don't just keep using ‘said’ or ‘thought’ because people do that a lot! Your writing is really interesting, because you have a nice conversation going and you have minor details that help picture the scene! Your story never really gets boring. Some things to work on would be that the first few paragraphs after that line are a bit confusing to me, like who is ‘He’ from the sentence “He said they'd discovered it accidentally”? Making a few things clearer would also help make the story better! Also, not everyone is Jewish, so could you add what a “Magen David” is? Thank you! Last, I'm a bit confused about “I felt the ghost's hand tighten on mine.” because ghost hands go through other ghosts and objects! Overall, your writing is really nice and highly enjoyable, and I love it!

mossflower29

My writing comp entry :0 Also my leader app excerpt… I really like this one xDD

It was a warm day when the wind first came. Weaving through the town, it carefully ran its hands along each plank of the homes, through the freshly planted flower beds, across the colorful curtains. The townspeople didn't notice it at first—its voice was only a whisper then.
Then, the wind got courageous. As it grew, so did its effects on the land. It found joy in creating deep furrows in the ground and pushing tiles off roofs—sometimes directly down onto their occupants. Often the townspeople woke to their newly planted crops destroyed and their windows rattling with the wind's force.
As you can imagine, the townspeople quickly tired of the wind's games, and one night, they plotted to end its tricks.
“Why not banish it?” asked a plucky warrior. “It never had a home here; why can't we force it to leave?”
The town's leader shook her head, sighing deeply. “We have tried that already. Every time, the wind slips through our grasp, hides somewhere. It's impossible to stop.”
From the other side of the licking flames, huddled in a blanket, a girl spoke up. “What if we just asked the wind to leave?” she said in a small voice.
“Asked it?” the leader turned on her. “Are you mad? Whenever we try to speak to it, it carries our voices away on its invisible wings.”
Curling deeper into her blanket, the girl fell silent. She listened as the conversation twisted and turned before them, before finally falling into an uneasy silence.
***
The next morning, the girl woke to a tap on her shoulder. She pushed her eyes open to see the leader standing above her.
Scrambling backwards on the dirt, she asked, “What do you want?”
The leader sighed, reaching a hand to pull the girl up. “Your plan was the best we had. Are you willing to carry it out?'
The girl nodded quickly, her mind already filled with possibilities of how to tame the wind. She took the leader's hand and stood up.
Bidding the girl farewell, the leader left her to her task.
That afternoon, the girl began her plan. She had spent most of the early morning hidden between the crowded houses, and the sun had finally climbed to its highest point in the sky. Though the sun was hiding behind a cloud, fragments of its warmth still hovered in the air, comforting the girl.
She stared up at the tall oaks surrounding the homes, watching carefully until, suddenly, a leaf trembled. It drifted slowly towards the ground, the girl tracking it with her eyes. As she watched, it began to float up.
”There's the wind,“ she whispered, squinting at the leaf as it bounced in the breeze.
Stealthily, the girl pressed her back to the wall, scooting towards the trees.
Her foot crunched into a pile of leaves, and she flinched, body going perfectly still. Daring a glance upward, she saw the leaf, hovering directly above her head.
She gulped, quietly reaching her hand down into her pocket.
The leaf floated towards the ground, landing unsuspectingly at her feet.
Scanning the tree line, she realized that the wind could be anywhere.
There!
A rustle sounded from a bush, a single branch bending sideways.
The girl pulled a rope from next to her, hurling it over the bush. She gasped when it held, then rushed upwards, pulling tightly around the edges of the invisible force.
She held tight, digging her feet into the ground when the wind tried to escape her grasp.
The rope cut into her hands, but still she held on.
Suddenly, the wind began to spin. The rope wrapped tighter around it, then ripped out of the girl's hands as the wind rotated faster and faster, coiling itself into a frenzied spiral of floating leaves, flying dust, and furious air. The funnel rose upwards, its thin body easily squeezing out of the loosely knotted rope.
”How dare you…“ the spinning storm growled at the girl.
She took a step back, pressing herself to the wooden plank walls. ”I- I only wanted to talk.“
”Why have you done this?“ the wind screamed, buffeting the girl with its icy breath.
She winced. ”Hear me out. Please.“
The wind kept spinning angrily, but quieted down.
”You are destroying my village,“ she began. ”Just look around you. We put so much work into making this place a home, and then you blow it all away.“ She gestured around her, at the ripped-up plants, the barren trees, the toppled signposts. ”You need to stop.“
The wind whirled faster, as if considering. ”What are you to do in return?“
The girl had come prepared. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a long, straight piece of driftwood. Hanging from it were several shorter pieces, carefully tied on with string.
Curious, the wind faded back into its calmer form, blowing carefully towards the wood. The girl flinched when the frigid breeze hit her face but managed to hold still as the wind explored. When it hit the sticks, they knocked into each other, creating a cheerful clink. Muttering in pleasure, the wind circled the toy.
Gathering her courage, the girl quickly shoved the chimes back into her pocket. ”If you want these, you must calm down. You must stay away from our village, our people. I will hang the chimes from homes, but only if you promise to play with them instead of hurting us.“
The wind grumbled and groaned, lifting a thin layer of leaves off of the ground and letting them float gently back. ”Fine,“ it said curtly. ”I will agree. But if I cannot find my toys, I will turn my back on your village, I will spin away from you and take all you love with me.“
Carefully, the girl backed away, dipping her head to the wind. The agreement was made. The town would be safe.
***
That night, the girl spoke up at the fireside meeting.
”I talked to the wind,“ she began, barely holding back a shudder at the thought of the wind spiraling ever higher, bearing down on her with its frigid breath.
Murmurs echoed through the circle.
”We have an agreement,“ she continued, heart pounding as the entire town stared at her. ”The wind will stop tormenting us as long as we leave these out every night.“ She held up the chimes, showing them to her people.
The leader nodded sagely. ”Thank you for your service."
With a smile, the girl sat back, staring at the licking flames of the fire, listening to the soft clack of the wind playing with the chimes in the distance.
***
Though the chimes kept the wind busy for months, there came a day when the girl had to take them down for repairs. She thought that the wind would take no notice, but it did. Once again, it worked itself into a frenzy, sweeping across her village in search of its toys.
From then on, the village lived in constant fear of the storm's return, wishing that the sky could remain calm forever.

Last edited by mossflower29 (July 20, 2022 20:58:06)

-RoseBunni

Writing comp entry:

The Prevalence of Memories
a short story

Memories are like buried treasure. They perch, preserved in the depth of your mind, shunned and forgotten. Some are easy to dig up; all it takes is a single thought to evoke the complete recollection. Others come in pieces; fragments at a time come flooding back to you, ultimately congregating to form a seamless, vivid picture. The first time a memory is found—or rather, stumbled upon by accident—a new beginning dawns. Like evidence of the past, memories unlock the hidden parts of ourselves—ones we never knew existed.

—

March 2020:
The world is in shock. An international emergency has just been declared, panic sweeps across the globe. The culprit? A microscopic virus. Somehow, it seems that the world we once knew will never be the same.

Worse yet, the virus is airborne. No more can we find solace in friends and family, for socializing is frowned upon. Instead, a new alternative is presented: social distancing. Experts warn us to stay home, and to avoid close contact with people outside your household. In truth, we are scared—scared at how little is known of this virus. A silent thought troubles our minds, as we wonder, How does a miniscule virus manage to force its way into our lives? How does a microbe succeed in uprooting the entire world?

On March 13th, schools shut down, with plans of reopening in a week. “We’re just waiting for all of this to die down,” they reassure us, and we believe them. The prospect of a break from school thrills me. I leave school that Friday with a contented heart, and intentions of coming back. One week, I tell myself. It'll all be over in one week.

Oh, how I am wrong.

—

June 2020:
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

I awake to the sound of my ticking clock, the same pulse that has been tormenting me for months. My room—not so much a room anymore, but more so a prison—seems to be shrinking with the passing of time. Here I am trapped, alone in this insipid cave. Here I am sentenced to wait in this tragedy thrust upon us.

It has been raging for three months now, a brewing, perpetuating storm. Every day, it appears on the news, and every day sends the same bleak message. Cases are rising. People are dying.

When they said schools would be closed for one week, it was actually one month in disguise. One month turned to three months and just like that, the school year was over.

Now, summer inches forward, bringing blistering heat waves and the longest daylight of the year. Wildfire season taints the air in smoke, ashes, and haze. “The air quality is bad, so stay indoors,” experts instruct us, once again. As if we need another reason not to go outside.

I find myself staring longingly out the window, face pressed against the glass, hoping to catch a hint of that summer warmth. The sunshine seems to be taunting me. It basks everything in a sparkling, aureate light as if it knows I can’t be outside to enjoy it. Most days, I just sit by the windowsill and reminisce about the good times. Times when summer was carefree and unshackled by a contagious virus.

Today, I focus on one year ago. Specifically, last summer, when visiting friends and family was still an option. A memory lodges itself from the depths of my mind. Slowly, a picture comes into focus. It’s so vivid, it's almost real.

I’m squatting on a patch of dry sand, focused intently on constructing a sand castle. Around me, my cousins run into the sparkling ocean. Some beckon for me to join them in the water. Our faces light up as we frolic across the sand and dive into the lapping, blue waves. The ocean swirls around our knees, enveloping us in a soothing current.

Later, we lick ice cream off of crispy waffle cones. Cold, sweet cream drips down our hands. Unmasked faces smeared with sticky goodness.

After that…

I—

I can’t remember.

No! Closing my eyes, I rack my brain desperately for more of the memory—the last missing piece to complete the picture. But I can feel the memory fading away, departing as quickly as it came. Then it is lost again, leaving me with the plain, cold reality of life.

—

The rest of summer progresses with agonizingly slow speed. I dream of the days when school will open up again, yet there is still no word on whether we can return in the fall.

My hope is dwindling.

Days of isolation have taken its toll, leaving me restless, miserable, and desperate. Each day is a constant struggle to stay afloat, as the darkness threatens to pull me under. It’s close—I can feel it creeping towards the surface.

Desperate to preserve the last, somewhat-frayed remains of my sanity, I begin retreating to the past—recollections of a pre-quarantine life. Memories become my safe haven, a comforting nook I can withdraw to during these hard times. Perhaps, dwelling in the past is a way of protecting myself; it’s easier than having to face the brutal, unforgiving present.

As August rolls around the corner, it becomes evident that school will not be opening anytime soon. I’m not even surprised, perhaps because my inner-cynic has been expecting it all along. And yet, a mysterious emotion wells inside of me. Disappointment? Longing? Regret? Whatever it is, I don’t like it. The feeling is tearing a gaping hole in my heart, leaving me hollow and shriveled inside.

Once more, I turn to my memories for solace. The flashbacks have become more and more frequent over the past few months, as I cling to the margins of stability and madness. The recent discussion of online school sends a particular collection of reminiscences washing back to me. Like always, they come in waves.

It’s the first day of fifth grade. Anxiety and excitement is bubbling up inside of me, the way it always does on the first day of school. Amid the crowd of chattering students, I spot my friends. “I’m so glad we’re in the same class!” I tell them.

And we walk into the classroom, ready for a new year, a new teacher, a fresh start.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the remembrance that has become too painful to bear. Why do I torture myself with these bittersweet moments? Reflecting on a world of what-could-have-been?

Now, the beginning of another school year presents itself. This time, however, my friends, my teacher, my classroom, will appear only on a screen. In-person school is a long lost routine, existing only in my memories.

When I stare back at those moments, it’s like seeing an entirely different person—the me full of joy, youth, and blithe. This is not the melancholy me from the present, the one who’s forgotten how to laugh. smile. hope. The stark contrast is a painful reminder of the pandemic’s scars.

So, yes—in a way, reminiscence is torture. But I can’t find the willpower to pull away. Succumbing to the memories, I let them wash over me.

Fourth grade. My classmates and I are on a bus. It’s an all-day field trip, the biggest one of the year. I have been waiting for this moment for so long.

The class is split into groups, and to my delight, I am put in the same one as my friends.

That day involves a long string of funny, childhood adventures. Panning for fake gold in a stream. Eventually giving up to splash in the water instead. Smearing mud on our faces to create a natural sunscreen (it worked!). Performing skits using rainbow colored dust and weird, gibberish chanting.

My heart aches as I wonder when field trips will be possible again. Field trips—yet another thing to add to the list of pandemic-caused-losses.

As I dig deeper into the past, the memories begin to obfuscate, breaking down into mere fragments. Little bits and pieces swarm in my mind.

Third grade. Roaming around the book fair, carefully examining books. I finally decide on one: Charlotte’s Web.

Second grade. Performing a mini talent show in front of the class. The faint melody of Yankee Doodle on the piano.

First Grade. Celebrating the 100th day of school. Making a stuffed Santa out of paper bags. Eating popcorn and watching a movie.

Kindergarten…

Kindergarten is a distant haze. It's buried deep in the ground, out of reach and out of sight. Slowly, I can feel myself coming back to the present, left to face my harsh, bleak reality.

A pandemic’s clutches. The world, stopped in its tracks. This lonely, stifling prison.

—

It’s been over two years since the world went into isolation. Two years since the summer I almost lost my mind. Seeing friends and family for the first time in years, I almost cried. I remember going back to school after over a year of Zoom classes, welcoming the sprawling campus with open arms. Finally being able to travel, and thinking, Wow, I can’t believe I survived this.

I don’t think the world will ever fully return back to normal. I’m still trying to move forward—to pick up the broken pieces and carry on with life.

Have I succeeded?
Not quite.

Part of me will always be branded by the pandemic’s miseries. It has scarred and shaped me in ways that cannot be undone.

I don’t think I will ever be the same, eleven-year-old girl full of juvenile happiness and carefree innocence.

But, as I mend the pieces back together, slowly, I am learning how to live again.

+1595 words

Note:
Okay, so um….
That was my writing comp entry! This is definitely one of the most…interesting pieces I’ve written so far. If you couldn’t tell already, it takes place during the pandemic, and is somewhat reflective of my own pandemic experience. I went with a very pessimistic view of lockdown, though in reality, I did not spend my entire time locked up in my room. However, many parts of it were true, like the central theme of dwelling in the past and recalling good times. (The memories were also based on real experiences too). The whole part about schools shutting down for one week but never reopening was very much true as well. I definitely found myself looking back at my pre-pandemic experiences with nostalgia and a bit of sadness of all the things we couldn’t do.
I’m not sure how I feel about this one. I feel like I kind of lost focus towards the end and there's something missing… HOWEVER this piece is also very close to my heart, as it is based off of my personal experiences.
But anyways, regardless of what I think, I hope you enjoyed reading this

Last edited by -RoseBunni (July 21, 2022 16:56:34)

-SilverSunset-

Critique for @yishujia

Sweet dreams to all the people of the earth
May no nightmares haunt your sleep tonight
May your sleep be restful and of regenerating worth…

I bolt up in bed, drenched in sweat, having just been rudely awakened by a callous, hoarse cackle.

I would personally recommend rephrasing or reordering the second part a bit with a phrase that can add more to the creepy mood and tone! Such as, “a callous, hoarse cackle abruptly awakening me from my dreams.”

My breath comes in short, choked gasps. I try to calm my nerves by obsessively using both hands to rake my hair back, which has been glued to my damp forehead with sweat.

Here, another personal preference of style but I myself would change this to “My breaths come in short, strained gasps as I struggle to breathe, panic filling my brain as I cough, choking as cold air flows into my lungs. Obsessive attempts to rake my hair back, glued to my damp forehead with sweat, do nothing to calm my nerves and just make me more agitated instead.”

It's okay it's okay it's just a dream- just a stupid lullaby- it can't hurt you, can't hurt you- can it? no no no it can't- worry, stop worrying-

Again personal preference- but I recommend adding some more emotional description rather than action. I think that you can replace thoughts, or just cut them out completely because (with all due respect) I don’t think it does much to either push the plot forward, or establish character personality or provide exposition or setting. What I would do here instead, “Doubt and consternation overwhelmingly flow into my mind as I press my hands on my temples, my head throbbing from the downpour of fear and alarm.”

I bite down hard on my lip to stop the flood of familiar thoughts that usually come after my nightmares. I absently shift my tongue over the raw part of my lip. I taste blood. Tears prick the corners of my eyes-
stupid stupid- weak- you're weak, stop crying- why are you crying?

I feel like there’s too much of the same sentence structure here in which it’s all like I _____- I bite, I absently shift, I taste, etc. I would change the first sentence structure to “Familiar thoughts flood my brain, the ones I have endured only too many times in the past, every time because of the same heart-shattering nightmare. The taste of blood lands on my tongue as I absently shift it over the raw part of my lip, still stinging with pain. Before I know it, tears prick the corners of my eyes and I force them back, berating myself for being so weak and vulnerable.”

“Stop it!" I cry out in despair. My fingers, which have still been repeatedly brushing my hair back, stop in place and clench onto my scalp with a painful grip. I stare fearfully into the complete darkness.

A simile or metaphor to replace ‘the complete darkness’ would sound more (how do I say this?) advanced. An action to show how ‘fearfully’ you stare (which could be replaced with ‘gaze’ asw) would be better than just the word ‘fearfully’ too!

I hardly even notice that I had spoken out loud- and right now, I honestly could care less.

My blankets are twisted around my legs. I untangle myself and stumble through the dark bedroom to the bathroom. I switch the light on and close my eyes for a second to let them adjust to the abrupt contrast in lighting. I open my eyes and am face to face with the mirror. As usual, I look like a crazy mad woman with my under-eyes dark from lack of sleep, and my hair now a rake-ish mess thanks to my nervous, twitchy habits. Lovely. I find myself aggressively washing my face with ice cold water from the tap, trying to wake myself up. Salty tears mix in with the cool water running down my face.

There aren’t a lot of problems here- it’s overall very good- but I would recommend varying your sentence lengths by combining some sentences when they could <3 The problem with the same sentence structure appears here again- maybe try reordering some words around so it sounds more coherent

Wake up wake up wake up- I can hear the desperate side of my mind begging daybreak to arrive.

Please just be morning already! It's easier to bear in the light. Please, please…
I take a deep breath and try to calm my scrambled mind.

Again, personal preference but I think using actions through omniscient/narrator pov rather than first would help sound more coherent. Also, might just be myself but I see no connection between ‘wake up’ and ‘daybreak to arrive’?

I love the sunrises. The beautiful colors breaking through the darkness, painting the sky with bright strokes of pink and orange and yellow. I love it when the sun peeps up over the horizon, a warm, cheery ball of fire that touches everything that reaches out to it. The sun's presence tells me that I've survived another night and that I will have rest for a few more hours.

It’d be cool to add some exposition or backstory here, replacing it with ‘I love the sunrises’

I hate the sunsets. They mean that the sun is leaving me, abandoning me to the shadowy arms of darkness. As the sun is pulled behind the horizon by invisible strings, the sky mourns with blood red stripes and the yellow and pink follows after it reluctantly.

I love the way you used parallelism here, but they may sound a bit repetitive. I also think you could replace the first sentence or just omit it completely and add a bit of context in the second.

And the night. That horrid darkness- those voices that- you're not supposed to be thinking terrifying, sad thoughts! Think happy thoughts.

Who is the narrator addressing? Also, this way of speech may seem a bit unrealistic; it’d be great to expand on your hatred and loathing of the night and darkness.

What makes you happy. What makes me happy, what makes me happy…?

If this is the ending, I feel like this isn’t the best ending as it doesn’t make it sound like a finish. Instead, a sentence like, “But even as I search through my deepest memories for a hint of happiness, a ray of sun that could add just a small glow to the darkness, there is nothing and I am still lost in the pitch black, my eyes still obscured, left with nowhere to go.” Even if this isn’t the ending, I feel like a metaphor could make it sound cooler!!

i_like_kotlc

writing comp entry - 94 words (excluding the title)

Prisoner

I feel trapped inside a box,
Lost with no direction.
Unable to escape,
With nowhere else to go.

I feel trapped inside a box,
The prisoner of my mind.
Subject to its will,
And every little lie.

I feel trapped inside a box,
As the world spins around me.
Lives continue on,
But I just stand in place.

I feel trapped inside a box,
Neither here nor there.
With no way out,
And no way back in.

I feel trapped inside a box,
Unable to describe it,
But stuck nonetheless;
Imprisoned in my mind.

Last edited by i_like_kotlc (July 21, 2022 13:25:11)

pages-of-ink

Daily 7/20

Critique for @-WildClan-

“Yeah, everything goes away,” Raven agreed, his voice bittersweet, but his heart filled with happiness for Wander.

Okay, so two things: first, this is supposed to be a solemn moment, and the use of the word ‘yeah’ seems a little too casual. I would change it to “yes” or omit it entirely. Of course, if you are trying to establish character voice, than that is perfectly fine, and you should ignore everything I just said. Second, you might want to edit some of your phrasing. “…his voice bittersweet, but his heart filled with happiness,” uses the word “his” twice, which is redundant. I would change it to “his voice bittersweet, but filled with happiness for Wander,” or “his voice bittersweet, though he felt nothing but happiness for Wander.”

The two shazarxi shared a long moment

The word “moment” reads as a little vague here. I would change it to “silence” or a similar, more descriptive word. What kind of a moment did these two share?

Wander stood silently. Ash couldn’t read his expression.

You repeat Ash’s name three sentences in a row here. To make this less redundant, I suggest changing this sentence to “Wander stood silently, his expression unreadable,” or something similar.

Also, for this entire section, I would flesh out Ash and his feelings more. Why is he so upset that Wander is leaving? Can you give us more of his thought process and emotions? This could help the reader to better understand Ash as a character, and his inner turmoil.

The days that seemed so careless, so free, had flown far, far away, only echoing in memories, and even those were slowly fading.

This is a lovely sentence. The structure, figurative language and depiction of old memories is just so beautiful and expressive, and I love it.

Ember had seen as Raven stood at the edge of the canyon, looking back just once.

I would change the word “seen” to “watched.” It just reads better, at least in my opinion.

Ash had taken that one personally

Instead of “that one,” which is a very vague phrase, you might want to consider something more precise, like “his leaving” or “his departure.”

Ember slipped quietly into Ash’s den.

The transition here is too abrupt. Consider putting a paragraph break in between this sentence and the last. Also, when did Ember enter Ash’s den? What time of day was it? How long after the previous events did this interaction between them happen?

Yeah, everything goes away. But I’m going to be here as long as I can. As long as you need me. I promise.”

It isn’t entirely clear who says this: Ember or Raven. You might want to specify who this line of dialogue belongs to. Also, once again, “yeah” feels to casual. It breaks the somber mood of this scene, which is a shame because you had set it up really well.

This scene could also benefit from fleshing out the relationship between Ember and Ash more. What kind of past do they share? How does that impact their current relationship? How do they feel about each other, and what kind of a relationship do they have now? By answering these questions, you could make this entire exchange that much more meaningful to the reader.

The river rushed to his left

Can you describe what the river looks like in more detail? Especially when you take into consideration the next sentence, some richer visuals could definitely improve this part of the piece.

the distant ocean from which he had returned from

Delete that last ”from” so that you don’t sound redundant.

A dark shape came towards him, a larger, fluffy shape alongside it.

Is there a synonym you can use for “shape,” so that this word isn’t used in the same sentence twice?

Wander didn’t know that Ash.

Which Ash? How does Wander know about this new Ash, when he has been gone so long and his old friend has died? Be more specific. (I would change this to something like “Wander didn’t know this new Ash that Raven and Ember had told him of.”)

the loyal, determined ally

Maybe it’s just me, but the word “ally” as used here sounds so cold. Wander and Ash obviously had a deeper relationship than just “allies.” With a different word choice (maybe you can describe the Ash that Wander knew before leaving in more detail here?) you can illustrate that.

And yeah, that’s it! Honestly, I really enjoyed reading this piece - most of what I just wrote is really nitpick-y stuff. My biggest advice for you is to elaborate more on the characters, their relationships, and how they changed. A lot of holes are left for the reader to fill, which can get confusing. By fleshing out these details more, you can make your story, and its theme, that much more meaningful. Also, I want to add that everything stated here is just my opinion. You’re the writer, and you know what’s best. If something I said here doesn’t line up with your creative vision, feel free to ignore it! This is your story, not mine.

Word count: 715

fari2

Here's the critique for @shes-a-lady :]] (@fari2)

Kou waved goodbye to Mitsuba, who just instead of just, you could use an adverb, such as “teasingly” or “spitefully” stuck his tongue out. The young exorcist hopped on his bike, before starting to ride solemnly down the sidewalk. Why did Mitsuba have to be tied to the school? Why couldn’t Kou just be tied to the school as well?
He made it home way quicker than he wanted to, locking his bike up to their picket fence. He opened the door, hearing its loud creak. Could use a connective or more of an introduction, such as "where he had found Teru, sitting at the table, etc Teru was sitting at the table, eating avocado toast as he looked through a newspaper, laughing at the stupid theories people had on supernaturals.
Kou was shocked by the question that lodged in his throat at that moment. And although Teru would absolutely flip, he wanted to ask it anyway. “Hey… Nii-san?”
Teru looked up from his newspaper, swallowing the last of his toast. “Oh! Kou, how did your extracurricular class go?”
Right. Kou had lied about joining an extracurricular class so that Teru would actually let him stay at school longer. “It went well. could put “He took an internal deep… etc” here I… I have a question.” He took an internal deep breath, composing himself.
“Yeah?” Teru picked up his plate to take it back to the kitchen.
Kou swallowed the lump in his throat. “How would you feel… If I became a supernatural?”
Teru dropped the plate, the sound of shattering ceramic echoing echo(ed), keep tense consistent through the dining room. Teru’s eyes were first wide with terror, then turned to slits as he glared at his younger brother. “Were you hanging out with No.7 again?”
Kou fiddled with his fingers, avoiding Teru’s gaze. He shook his head.
“Oh, is it because Yashiro’s in love with Hanako, that’s why?
He shook his head.
Teru let out an angry sigh, slamming his hands down on the table. “What happened to the Kou I knew?! The one who listened to our ancestors?! The one who listened to me?!”
Kou didn’t answer.
Teru took a deep breath, composing himself. Making sure to avoid the broken glass, he walked around the table and stood in front of Kou, before putting a hand on his shoulder. “Why do you want to become a supernatural?”
Kou swallowed the lump in his throat, you repeated that :0, could use “engulfed the swelling”, just, different wording would do looking up at his brother with desperate eyes. “Number… Number three of the seven m-mysteries,” He mumbled, fumbling over his own words.
Teru took his hand off Kou’s shoulder. “You’ve been hanging out with another school mystery?!” He screamed, slamming his hand down on the table.
Kou started to shake, scared out of his mind. “I-I knew him… When he was still alive…” Kou willed the tears to stop, but he could already feel them rolling down his cheeks.
Teru turned his back to Kou, huffing angrily. “That doesn’t make it any better! Why…? Why had my perfect little brother, always willing to follow the path our ancestors gave us… Now wants *wanted to be a supernatural?” Teru spun back around, looking Kou right in the eyes. “What’s so special about the new No.3?”
Kou was fed up with this whole ‘carry the family legacy’ thing. He slammed his hand down on the table as well, biting back his sobs. “I fell in love, Teru. I fell in love.”
Teru’s face fell, a look of disdain lining his features. He pointed at the stairs. “Go to your room. Right now. No Minamoto is falling in love with a supernatural- and if you speak to her ever again, I’ll have her exorcised.”
Kou let out a sob, feeling the tears stream down his face as he ran up to his room, slamming the door.
Tiara stood across the hallway, squeezing Minamoto fairy as she started to cry. What’s going on with Kou and Teru? She thought, swallowing the lump in her throat. aAA you did it aGaIn She walked down the hallway, descending the stairs. Teru was in the kitchen, throwing out the last of the broken glass.

overall, it was super good! super clear and super easy to follow, with a good plot and good verbs and good range of sentence types, it's so engaging I love it man; but I have to say, the pointers include: you need to minimise repetition, repetition for listing is fine, that brings a good effect into your writing, but repetition at odd intervals, you could change your wording; furthermore, don't fluctuate tense as often! There were some sentences there which switch from past to present and it doesn't line up as well, try keep tense consistent, at least, if needed, at least, keep the tense per paragraph, and if the storyline changes, change the tense with a paragraph (don't worry, this is my biggest writing struggle- I'm awful at maintaining tense aha I fluctuate more than you I think). The last thing is, instead of “as”, you should use “before”! I don't know man, I just prefer it more-
it's nothing towards you- it's just a personal preference:). Well! That's 800 points for script :D

Last edited by fari2 (July 20, 2022 22:12:15)

MysticScratcher101

weekly #3 woo (2959 words)

Part 1 (872 words)

Brainstorming
- World full of forest +
- Lots of lakes +
- Rare, expensive gems are scattered around the world +
- Mountains border the main part of the world +
- Water is on the other side of the mountains +
- Different provinces ruled by elected councils +
- Different groups of provinces overseen by three elected leaders +
- All groups are overseen by an all-ruling elected man and woman duo +
- Most people are quiet and stay low
- Most people live in a small hut
- Most people have a small family, rarely more than two children
- Seniors live separately
- Most people receive slightly more than enough for necessities
- Red and flames are represented with evil +
- Blue and rain are represented with good +
- Light pink and flowers as represented with peace +
- Uses soft magic
- Magic is rare
- People with magical power are treated harshly
- Prophecy drives people
- Destroying trees without governmental permission brings consequences, decided by the councils of the group

Connections (the ones with +’s)
Surrounded by a forever-going water, bordered by impossible-to-climb mountains, the unknown land of Amidol lies. The land is full of forest with blooming pink flowers, and bright blue lakes are densely scattered across. Different provinces defined by weather, geographical areas, and more are ruled by elected councils. Those provinces are further sorted into groups, overseen by three elected leaders. All the groups are supervised by a duo of a man and women, who are elected together. Each province has a governmental building, where the council works. One section of land in the middle of the whole land is reserved for the man and woman duo where the Grand Blue, and the other governmental figures sometimes visit. In each governmental building, rare, expensive stones, mainly blue and pink, called hadgenos are in some rooms, and in the reserved land for the duo, almost every room, showing the power. The walls are painted blue, which represents good, and almost everything has no red, which signifies evil. Sometimes there is pink, standing for peace. You can’t confuse red with pink – they are almost completely different. These colors are the main colors for the entire land. Slight tints little variations differ between every group and province.

Narrative
The prophecy of life, it is heard everywhere. This is ‘the meaning of life’, they say. It is heard all over Amidol. It goes like this:

The forest is us,
And we are the forest.
We seek the one who goes,
Beyond this limit.

They will bring prosperity,
Will bring us power.
Will bring us everyone wanting to be in this democracy,
Will bring this forever.

We will honor this person,
Make them our highest.
Put them behind the opening curtain,
Bow to them, the greatest.

Work hard to become,
Be forever good,
To be this one,
To be forever told.

The government says everyone needs a fair chance at being this one. And people with magic, they say they cheat. They can cheat with magic, so they treat them harshly, to say the least. As a magical, that’s what they call us, I must keep my identity hidden. Everyone thinks I’m a regular person, as I want them to think. I want magical equality. I will be that person. I would hide my identity, work hard, acting like a regular person. I would re-write all the textbooks, making magicals included. They would allow that, since I am that one… right?
A knock on the front door interrupted my thoughts. My mom quickly came to answer.
“Hello madam. I’m Trevor Sultim, a loyal governmental magical for the Himan province of Amidol. We are here for the yearly check.” The man behind the door said.
“Yes, go ahead.” My mom stepped out of the way.
I had to act quickly. If he is a magical, then he can tell who is magical, even if they are using their magic to try and hide their identity. And he is loyal to the Amidol code. If he, or even if his camera with live video on him sees me, then I’m a goner. I’ll be reported, and who knows what will happen. This year, I have heard, he would put cameras in our hut. Cameras that point out magicals. I can’t live in my house. So, I did what I had to do.
I quietly went through the house, avoided this Trevor guy, and slipped through the back door. I then ran. Ran as quickly as I could through the wet, dense forest of Himan. I don’t know where I am going, but I ran away.
I ran forever. I ran until I was exhausted. Since I am a magical, I had more stamina, but I still can run out. I sat down, about to take a nap, when I noticed the mountains. I was almost at the base of one. My house was already near the edge of Amidol, but still quite far. Somehow, I had run all the way here. I smiled. I was going to make the prophecy come true. If magicals are going to be accepted, this is what I must do.

Part 2 (987 words)

How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
If you have magic, you need to stay low. If not, you would get caught and treated harshly, to say the least. Each person with magical abilities can tell who is also one. If a loyal governmental magical, someone who has magical abilities and is loyal to the government, sees you, it would be bad. They would tell that you are a magical and report it. To survive, most need to act like a normal person, not using any magic. Magic is different for every magical. Each one has a broad category of something they can do, and they can do most things in that category.

What is the origin of your magic?
People with magic are born with it, and it isn’t usually passed down. The magic comes from a magic core inside them. It then quickly passes through the air to do the desired effect. The magic is barely visible – it looks like an almost-transparent wisp of air with a slight color that depends on the magic user. It moves swiftly, so most of the time, you can’t see it. Only the best cameras or people with great eyesight can see it.

How can your world’s magic aid character development?
For people with magical abilities, they would become aware of their surroundings and defensive since they are not allowed. To avoid their identity to be revealed, they stay on guard, stay low, and don’t communicate much. For regular people, it doesn’t affect them much. They must report a person with magical abilities if they suspect there is one, so they are a little more observant. For governmental figures, magic makes them more observant as well, but more than the regular people. They need to observe anything that signify having magical abilities.

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic is not common. It is usually slightly less than one percent of the population that has magic. It doesn’t pass down, so someone with one or more parents with magical abilities has the same chance of someone with parents with no magical abilities. Characters with magical abilities unlock the power when they are three years old. Then, somewhere in the back of their brain, it tells them how to use it and what it can do, even though they didn’t do it before.

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
People with magical abilities have a broad category for what they can do with magic. Some examples are magic related to sound, magic related to time, etc. Other than that, they can do almost anything in that category. Magic is really rare, and even the ones with magic have a low chance of being able to survive and be able to teach you. They might not even meet you. So, there isn’t someone to teach you how to use it well.

How is magic viewed in your world?
Magic is viewed as something people can use to cheat with, to cheat with life. They have a prophecy, the prophecy of life, which drives people. Someone with magic has an easier way of achieving that prophecy, since they could use their power to help them. It is rare and seen as a glitch that should ‘be taken care of.’ Normal is no magic, and people with magic are seen as a ‘threat’ and something that ‘can threaten our peace.’ However, there are some magic sympathizers, who would also be treated unforgivingly.

Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
People must be aware of anything that seems to lead to someone having magical abilities. Magic is illegal, so people must find anyone suspected of having magic. Some people are magic sympathizers, who would also need to be reported. Everyone needs to report any people with magical abilities and magic sympathizers. People should act normal, so they don’t get reported, if they are or are not someone that should be reported. Other than that, basically all things are the same.

Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
They would see a little wisp of colored air floating in the air, barely visible. It is colored, and the color depends on the user. They would feel some light breeze on their skin, made by the wisp. They would hear the little sound of a breeze, from the wisp as well. They would smell a little scent from the wisp of air, which depends on the user. They would also taste a little bitterness as they use their magic.

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
Almost everyone is homeschooled, but a small percent with lots of money can send their children to a small school. In homeschooling, the kid’s parents teach them basic necessities – simple math, basic reading and writing, why common things happen, and history of the world. They also teach them the prophecy that drives people and about people with magical abilities. In a small school, they teach more complex math, more elaborate reading and writing, more things are explained, and a deeper history of the world.

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
Yes, my world’s government is affected by magic. There is this prophecy that drives people to work hard and be good, and they think that people with magical abilities have an easier chance at doing it and may be not as good as someone without magical abilities. The government in my world says it is illegal to have magic because of that. The government treats any person with magical abilities poorly, and they make it impossible for them to complete the prophecy.

Part 3 (1100 words)

Dystopian Fantasy (341 words):

I go to the forest, dense with trees. I find the circle of the thin white trees, and then walk to the tree pointed north. I made sure that all the trees were blocking the camera before pressing a spot on the tree with a unique marking on it, and it clicked like a button. I immediately walked forward, since this would only hold for another five minutes.
I approach a little old hut. My five minutes were almost up, and I quickly entered it before it faded away. Inside the one-room cabin, I spin the old, little symbol of the secret rebellion one full turn before pushing it in.
Immediately, the ground below me slides open. Below, a ladder led to what seems like pure darkness. I descend downwards and close the hatch. A clicking sound happened, and I know that the trap door was hidden from view.
Once I reached ground, I took a breath. The room that this led to seemed like an empty space of only a couple square meters. But there was more. I stomped down on the ground with magic in my foot to fall onto a padded surface. The door closed above me, and I go greet my fellow rebellion friends.
“Finally, Lance is here. That’s all, right?” The head of the rebellion, Maranne, announced.
Everyone nodded their heads.
“Okay then. We would review our plan, and then start phase one. We must start today. We are already behind schedule, and even one more day and we have no chance at this working. It is already a long shot, but it is better than doing nothing. Understand?” Maranne told all of us. She got nods again. Then she explained our complex plan again, and we started executing it.
It was exactly noon, and I looked back at Maranne. I got a nod of approvement, and I climbed the ladder on the other side of the room. I came back to the old hut, and I swiftly ran out. We could not waste a second.

Hidden Worlds (398 words):

I was visiting my cousin’s, Matin, house. My dad drove me up to his garage, and we rang the doorbell.
“Hey! Welcome in! And my god, Sandy, you have grown so much since last time we have seen you!”
“That’s because that was two years ago,” I murmured quietly as my family entered.
“Martin, why don’t you show Sandy around? We would talk over some stuff with Uncle Henry and Aunt Daisy and then we could give them a tour ourselves.”
“Fine.” Martin replied. “Go to my room first, it is the one on the right of the upstairs hallway. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
I walked up the stairs, and as told, I went to the rightmost room. I entered and observed. Martin’s bed was on the lower left side of the room. A huge window was on the opposite side of the door, and his desk was beside the window. There was a little drawer with three cabinets, stacked on top of each other. It was on the right side of the room, just sitting there, lonely. There were two strange rocks on it, and I decided to check it out. I was just about to grab one before Martin barged in.
“Hey, sor- wait, don’t touch that!” he warned. Before he could prevent me though, I accidentally touched it slightly. I got dizzy, and I sat down and closed my eyes.
When I re-opened them, I was in a different environment. Behind me was a wall of rock and stone, and in front of me was a plain. I could make up towns far away, and I saw a city just beyond that.
“Intruder!” A man appeared and said, pointing to me. Suddenly, a group of people appeared. “Get her!”
Before they could take a hold of me, Martin appeared and grabbed my arm. He teleported the two of us away, hidden from view of the group.
“I told you not to touch that.” Martin sighed. “That was a teleportation stone. I forgot that you weren’t a part of here. Should’ve hidden it.”
I just stared at him as he took a rock out of his pocket, the second stone that I didn’t touch. He murmured something, and then we returned to Martin’s room.
“I’ve got so many questions.” I asked.
“Go ahead,” Martin said grudgingly. “Don’t want you bugging me all day.”

Science Fantasy (361 words):

“How are you, Adalyn?” Poppy, Adalyn’s AI, asked.
“Bored.” Adalyn said, slumping on her floating chair.
“Would you like to play a game of chess?”
“You always beat me.”
“Hmm. How about we go on the flying train to Trath to train? According to my data, Trath is the best place for training. They have great training shops with cheap prices.”
“But the flying train is so expensive…”
“The final old-time speed train would take a full three days to get to Trath. The flying train would only take ten minutes. And the flying train is a better deal. You have the money; you are a sorcerer! You also need training. If you are going to be a high sorcerer, you need training.”
“Fine, fine.”
Adalyn made Poppy into a more portable state, a little disk as she went to the flying train. She bought a ticket, and soon they arrived at Trath.
Adalyn made Poppy her original state again and asked, “Where should we go?”
“Just over there.” Poppy gestured to a big store.
“Kelly’s Training Pods. Interesting.” Adalyn remarked as she entered. A young woman soon came up towards her.
“Hello there! I’m Penny Hollows. Do you want to order a pod? We have plenty of each pod open.”
Adalyn looked at each type. There was basic, advanced, and sorcerer’s training. “I’ll get a sorcerer’s training pod.”
“Okay! I’ll lead you right there.” Penny led them to a giant room with a steel door, which she opened it. “Have fun training!”
Adalyn and Poppy entered and shut the door tight.
“Hello there, I’m Harper. I’ll be your trainer today. Any watchers can be seated in the magic-proof see-through room on the left. We’ll start with a warm-up, Huthan Beast.”
As Poppy went to the room that Harper explained, Adalyn defeated the beast with ease.
“Good job! Select an opponent.” Harper explained.
There were three choices. Adalyn chose Manstie Beast. She defeated it quickly.
This went on for a long time. Adalyn was enjoying it. When she had finished one hour and left, they returned to Adalyn’s apartment.
“Told you Trath wasn’t a waste.” Poppy remarked.
“Yeah, yeah.” Adalyn smiled.

MoonlitSeas

320 words

“I take a deep breath, then rush down the passageway.”
I’m no grammar expert, but I believe there should be an ‘and’ instead of the comma, or alternatively, you could get rid of the comma and replace ‘then rush’ with ‘before rushing’.

“The crescent moon is circled by the end of the hall like a target.”

Wait, what? I’m a little confused. Is this a literal crescent moon, or a drawing, or something else entirely?

“I near it, putting on speed as I get closer and closer, until finally I burst out the other end.”

While it may be for the effect, I personally dislike the way this sentence is worded. In my opinion, it’s a bit repetitive, and the final comma is unnecessary.

“For a moment, though, there was silence.”

Though is unnecessary, unless you are using it for the effect of the pause from the commas.

“The world was still, despite the city churning on around me.”

While it works, in my opinion there could perhaps be a better word to use here than “churned”. While it is well within the realms of possibility that this is entirely an issue that merely plagues me, a true speck of dust in the grand scheme of time and space, the first and foremost image that the simple word of the American English dialect known as “churned”, otherwise known ed as the past tense of another word hailing from the American English dialect, “churn”, just so happens, by the humble combination of mere chance and my unique and varying past encounters with the word “churned”, is a stick of butter, or in other words, cream and oftentimes salt in its “churned” form.

“I sigh, turning back to the hall, the point of staying outside, risking everything, gone.”

In a similar style as my former complaint, while the word “point” does so happen to work in this particular intricate context, it often brings to mind the wrong image when one has a, with the humblest of possible connotations, rather vivid and arguably overactive imagination. In place of this pencil summoning prose, I might instead suggest an alternative, if I may. You could perhaps seek to employ another word, perhaps that known as none of then the fine “intention”, or the prosperous “thought”.

Otherwise, excellent job! I was beyond picky in my suggestions, and overall, I very much enjoyed reading this piece!

xXFierroOrFalafelXx

PaigeTurnerE wrote:
July 1┊
July 20┊Writing for critiques┊I should’ve left a note.
As I stare at my bedroom ceiling that is the only thought circling my mind. I should’ve left a note. I had the time, the counsellors said I could take as much time as I needed. I had the pen and paper in my bag. A simple, ‘hey I am getting sent home because of heat illnesses enjoy the rest of camp’ would’ve done the job. The girls are most likely getting ready for bed right now. KC must be wondering why I am not there (we shared a room). I don’t know what Harley and Nevaeh know but they probably have noticed my absence. The other four girls in our family group may have been told too, I hope not since I am hoping to come back tomorrow. I like the hook at the beginning of this. However I have some questions, if the character is in their bedroom, and thinking of writing a note now? Why can’t they? Is it because their bag is already outside by whatever vehicle is taking them home? All in all it’s interesting, but I am confused about where the main character is.

Alright, I’m gonna back-pedal a bit since I am guessing I make no sense. Just a few mere hours ago I was at camp having the time of my life. Aside from the blaring heat wave sweeping across the midwest, hampering all outdoor activities. I don’t do well in heat, I get dizzy even if I am drinking a couple gallons of water a day. I wasn’t the only one who was like this, it got so out of hand to the point that there was a sickbay. We were in un-air conditioned dorms. The basement was the only place where it wasn’t boiling hot. while the transition of alright let me take a step back or whatever slightly different way somebody may say that is definitely used a lot, that doesn’t make it bad and I think it really works for this story. Just starting in the middle and then taking a step back so you aren’t too confused. In the first paragraph, I am already getting the sense that this isn’t just some little sickness, but rather something dire. That’s probably just me though lol.

On Wednesday, I remember placing my water bottle under my bed. KC turned off the lights. I closed my eyes but I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. My mouth was a mini desert. I reached down for my water bottle but before I could even grip my saving grace, a pang of dizziness took over me.
“KC! I- I’m dizzy, and my mouth is dry!” The head counsellors told us to wake up our roommate if we started to feel woozy. Nevaeh had already gone down to the ‘sickbay’ since her eyes looked bloodshot–when I say that, I mean like pinkeye bloodshot–and I had a feeling she needed help. This is definitely raising more questions of what the heck is going on? Is it something more dire? I am getting a tiny bit reminded of the book Wilder Girls right now. When the main character talks I wonder if there is a way to make them sound more dizzy and thirsty? Coming back to this bit about nevaeh needing help i don’t think it was ever mentioned again which give me a bit of a plot hole sense, I don’t know. Like obviously there were obstacles, but maybe find a way to bring this back up.

“You are?!” KC shot up out of bed. “C’mon, let’s go get someone.”
I quickly grabbed my wash cloth and dumped water on it. KC helped me walk out of the room while I was shaking with every step.
“Are you guys alright?” Thankfully there was a counsellor outside our door.
“She’s feeling a bit dizzy.” KC spoke for me, probably aware that I was afraid that sand would cascade out of my mouth if I were to say something. Is this metaphorical or is that something that is like actually likely to happen? Is there a disease going around this camp that could cause that?

“Let’s get you downstairs.” The counsellor ushered me to the elevator…the sketchy elevator that could only be used for moving in and out. “We are allowed to use this for emergencies.” I am a little confused by this chunk

“O-ok.” I took a long sip from my water bottle, I snatched it before KC and I left. Snatched what? The water bottle? When did they put it down after sipping from it to snatch it back up?

I gripped onto the elevator railing like a child clinging on to their mother’s hand. The elevator started to rumble. I felt it start to inch down to the basement level.I’ve noticed you using grip a lot. At least I think I have. There’s a good amount of spacing between each use of course, but you may want to consider a synonym.

“I don’t feel terrible, I know that you guys want us downstairs even at the slightest sign of heat sickness,” I said.
“I guess you were really paying attention.” The counsellor laughed.
“I try.”
The elevator thudded to a stop. The doors opened and a wave of cold air hit me.
“Wow, it’s way cooler down here,” I remarked.
“That it is.”
The basement looked like it hadn’t been remodelled since this structure was built. Cobwebs lined every corner. The floors were dirty and faded. Although upstairs was nicer, I would’ve taken down there just because of the temperature. There seem to be some grammar mistakes in the last sentence so it’s a little confusing for me to read. Okay, I think technically it is grammatically correct, but I think it would be easier to read if you worded it differently. Something like: I would have taken the basement over upstairs just because of the temperature. Some more physical descriptions of the place (in general not just this scene) would be nice, but you could also choose to just leave it up to the reader.

The counsellor led me to a glass door. I shivered as she opened it. It was even colder than it was outside this room! Consider switching to it was even colder than the rest of the basement.

After a few hours of hanging out in that freezing room, I went upstairs to my room. Thoughts raced through my mind as I drifted off to sleep.
The next day was a disaster. During my last class (Survival Skills), we left one of our classmates behind on accident. Yeesh. So is this like just your every day summer camp survival skills with like maybe girl scouts or something? Or, and I ask it once again, is there something more ominous that they are practising surviving? Basically I guess I’m curious about how seriously people take this class and what the world is like. I went back into the room before dinner but I managed to go eat. After dinner, we had to move from the un-air conditioned dorms to the air conditioned dorms, imagine carrying a 20 pound bag a few hundred feet, up and down stairs, during a record-breaking heat wave. Not fun. I was put back down into the room since I was feeling exasperated and dizzy (yet again). After a few long hours of being there, I got the news. I was being sent home since my faint, barely noticeable dizziness wouldn’t completely stop. The world seemed to turn upside down. I first thought I was dreaming. I pinched myself. So most of my theories about this being some dark ominous disease are gone now, but I do still feel like there is stuff about this camp and “heat sickness” that both the readers and the characters don’t know. All in all, the way it’s told has definitely intrigued me. And you have a way of making something that may not seem very serious seem serious in this story. But now I am wondering, is the world upside down cause the character is dizzy or is it something else?
┊791 words

Last edited by xXFierroOrFalafelXx (July 20, 2022 23:34:24)

Deedee8

-faerylights wrote:
Daily ⋆ 2

Will my character remember their past? - My sources say no.

⋆

The white stains the walls, bitter and unfeeling. The sheets, clean, yet abrasive to my blistering skin. Clipped protests escape the machines beside my bed. Yet a haze falls where there should be a past, beyond this insulated world, nothing exists. No memories care to grace themselves my presence.

The “Yet a haze…” part seems sudden and kind of lost in the middle of the paragraph. I would indent it and change the comma after past to a period. I love how descriptive everything is.

-faerylights wrote:
Nurses, doctors perhaps, move throughout my limited consciences, of the world from which I see so far, has nothing to recommend it.

Today they have told me of the past, or at least partly, though to me, the words fall dully and without recognition. I am not who I was.
Perhaps I had thought that when I learnt of what was before, the wall that separates what was, and what is, would crumble. Yet, it did not. Where there first was haze, memories floating among forgotten past just beyond the veil, now, when I reach, I find only a solid wall, no cracks to see beyond.

I don't think you need the comma after “though to me” in the first sentence. In the second sentence, I would change “learnt of what was before” to “learned what was before” or “learned what happened.” I don't think you need a comma between “what was and what is.” I don't think you need a comma after “Yet” in the next sentence. The last sentence seems a little long and has a lot of commas, I would probably change it to "There first was haze, memories floating among the forgotten past just beyond the veil. Now when I reach, I find only solid wall. There are no cracks to see beyond. I'm really excited to see what happens next!

-faerylights wrote:
With time, they tell me, that memories will resurface, the wall will erode – slowly. Should I choose to trust, I might believe the sentiment, though I do not know the ones who tell me so, and thus far, the wall has only strengthened.

This is really interesting! I would change “that memories” in the first sentence to “the memories.” When you add a lot of things separated by commas in one sentence, it can make it hard to follow. I would change the comma after “sentimint” to a period to help with that.

-faerylights wrote:
They will discharge me today – though recollections evade me, and knowledge beyond my grasp – I have healed, or so I am told. The thin material of the nightgown I wear does little to ward off the cold, nor does the little hair that remains on my head, running against the puckered scar that remains. I am guided through the halls, tilled in white, brightly lit, clinical, much the same as my own room. A changeless, endless cycle of life resides in these halls, perhaps one which I will never fully leave.

I would make “I have healed, or so I'm told” It's own sentance to give it more emphasis. Adding a few sentences to elaborate on leaving the hospital would help here. Does your character want to leave? Are they afraid? Nervous? Relieved? How do they feel about the hospital releasing them when they aren't healed? How do they feel about the doctors and nurses saying they are when they know they aren't?

I'd indent “The thin material…” as it feels like it's own topic.

It seems to me like your character is disconnected from reality. I don't know if that's what you wanted or if it was on purpose or not, but it might be something to play. I think it makes your story really interesting.

-faerylights wrote:
Home – perhaps, or perhaps not. I am told it is, yet nothing marks it as mine. The red peeling paint on the walls, the yellowing drapes, the buckled windows, are all foreign. It stands alongside others, the same make, same colours, all aging, forgotten, set aside to face ruins alone.
The fate has been laid out, the show has started, the stage set. I will resign to what has been left for me, forsake what is now gone. For all I am is the present, no past hinders me, nothing tethers me to the world I have chanced upon. Perhaps, it is truly freedom that I have been granted.

This is amazing! It feels really in character.

theniqhtsfall

Morning by morning, night by night

It might be better to use more simple terminology here. Morning + night = day (as a unit of time, not day as in the opposite to night), so you could say “day by/after day.”

Birds that fly over are greeted with dried weeds in a barren ground. When the wind blows, the ground stays still, as the weeds stay.

I wouldn't use the word greeted here, unless you want to generalize it out from birds to any passerby in general. Also, I think weeds would still rustle in the wind, it doesn't change the fact that they're devoid of life. Overall, I find this to be very effective description, just a few minor changes here and there.

A place that doesn't breathe is chronically dead

chronically dead? I'd sure hope most things are chronically dead. I also don't want to quote, but in the next sentence you continue your streak of misspelling…streak.

For a few years, they grabbed plants from the ground, eventually learning which species to avoid.

It's very realistic that you're bringing up the concept of people from a foreign land with no predisposed knowledge to have to blindly guess at what is toxic and what isn't. However, you use relatively technical terminology — someone in this scenario would not think to themselves, “this species of *insert fancy Latin name here* is toxic because it caused convulsions for 3-7 days.” In concept, this is incredibly interesting, the wording just portrays a slightly different tone then the one I think you're going for.

Curiously, they had discovered a small sliver of light– fire. If they could harness the power this magical aura brought, they could eventually unlock hidden secrets.

I really like how fire is portrayed here. Just a small tweak, add a possessive before hidden secrets.

The next decades were comprised of hunting and gathering animals, under the gleaming fire. It would be a powerful force to harness.

“under the gleaming fire” is a bit strange, I guess you could say the civilization's livelihood is being protected/guarded by fire? Also, the verb tense in “would be” make the timeline for this a little confusing. It implies they don't actually know how to use fire.

They had lived peacefully, starting families and eventually spreading their traditions from generation to generation. The civilization was successful. It could always remain successful, if it had lived in harmony.

Given you specify in the sentence before that this is over the course of decades, it's really weird that you frame this almost like a thriving civilization that's been around for centuries. Also, if they never went past wood cabins (which they might've!), it paints a very different mental image than that of a harmonious, successful civilization.

People's opinions of each other were flipped on their tails

Heads? If it's tails, you might want to do some more explaining as to why these people have tails, since it's an expression. Explaining the conflict up until this point is incredibly interesting, and you use the fire metaphor proficiently.

In the process, when they fought and burned other members in violence, they had ruined the thing they vowed to protect: peace.

In the first paragraph, you specify if they can live peacefully, their civilization would be a success, but you don't outline that preserving peace is important to the people of this civilization. That's an important distinction to make, and it makes this notion come seemingly out of nowhere.

Fires, crackling, large booms would populate the night, leaving no room for silence.

Are the crackling, large booms describing fire? I wouldn't think so, I would add a pair of emdashes if they are and the word “and” between “fires” and “crackling” if they aren't.

This phenomenon crept up to them, steadily spreading.

I have some issues with a reduced population somehow depleting all their resources when a much larger group was able to live sustainably off the land for a long time, but the bigger problem is that you frame this as a phenomena. Your point, I assume, is that war tore them apart, and led this civilization to doom. By using the word “phenomena,” you convey that this is something mysterious and out of the people's control, when it isn't.

None of the descendants remain in this barren land. None will ever see the lifeless state their ancestors once lived on.

Wait, so are there descendants? Are they somewhere else, or are they all dead? Because I was pretty sure they were dead, but the word “remain” implies that they're alive, just elsewhere.

Towards the end, you use the phrase “barren lands” quite a bit. Perhaps it's meant to be repetition, but it doesn't seem like you're using the phrase for a rhetorical purpose, but simply because you have nothing else to describe the place as. You could make up a name for it, or describe it using other terms, such as a “wasteland.” (And you spelled streaks wrong again)

Overall, it's written very well, and I enjoyed the rather neutral and formal tone that implies this is some sort of news publication or unbiased reporting. I'm a sucker for that. The description is intriguing and piques my interest, there are just some small things I would tweak.

SophIIsa

~ daily #20 - july 20th, 2022 (for the dystopian cabin) ~
click/tap to go back to page 1 of scroll

Critique For @AestheticallyDucci

P.S. Gotta do this quick! Few minutes until I am posting this and the daily ends. TvT

Hi! I loved your writing. I love the conflict you chose in the story - the fairy that can't fly and the village that is being destroyed / is in chaos. The cliffhanger was so… I wanted to read more immediately, hehe. I was like, is Tart an enemy or really trying to help? Your story is very interesting and fun to read. I think you can really work on (I know it's super hard) just the formatting because parts like dialogue was kind of confusing to read. I wasn't very sure who was speaking. I know that text formatting like paragraphs and indents are super hard to do in the Scratch Vector editor but I think that if you just separated the dialogue with the enter/return key your story would be much clearer. I really liked all your details, though, such as describing the setting and Ally's thoughts! I liked where you wrote about how Ally was thinking about the conflicts going on in her village, and her own conflicts - how she can't fly. Ally is a very interesting character. But when thinking about the story itself, details about other characters besides Ally and Tart can also be covered, like more detail about Ally's parents.

~ 207 words ~

smalltoe

Weekly #3

Part 1

Brainstorming
189 words

A society based on bees / a hive
Living underground
Desert setting with regular dust storms
Conflict between differents cities or towns
People have horns / animal ears
Magic sold on the black market - transforming weapons, disguises, etc.
Magic is always a very deep blue-black
Hard magic system
Only rulers are legally allowed to use magic
Magic often associated with criminals
Magic involves sacrificing bugs / life?
Society rejects “wanderers” and people without a set home or town
All warm colours
Cold colours associated with death
Red sand
Warm colours on top of the planet, dig deeper for cold colours (a layer of ice underneath the surface, maybe?)
All water is underground
Black-coloured river which is very polluted
Society destroying their own world but so stubborn they don’t care
Live in an already-destroyed world
Society focuses on success and is very much against failure
Very strict rules
Diet of artificial plants produced by cloning DNA
Bees as a symbol of hard work and success
Bugs are good luck
Vultures / birds are bad luck, or evil
Metal / chains as a symbol of failure and burden
Big buildings with exteriors like beetle/bug shells

Connections
381 words

The Red City is a very inhospitable, barren desert-like place. And although it’s named ‘the Red City’, it’s actually not a city at all but a collection of many small towns. These towns are made up of a few large buildings with exteriors like beetle shells that protect against the regular dust storms. Food isn’t able to be grown, so humans have a diet of artificial plants produced by cloning DNA. The technology used to make this is one of the very few pieces of tech that remain from when the world was “destroyed”. All water is beneath the surface of the desert, and requires burrowing under sand and sometimes rock to get to it. With all the orangey sand and clay-red rock, the water is also tinged slightly red.
With practically only warm colours making up the scenery, cold colours are associated with death.
In the Red City, temperatures are so high that it’s only possible to go outside at dawn or dusk, when the sun hasn't yet completely risen but still provides a little warmth. At night, the temperatures are so low that frost coats the sand, making a strange type of crystal with slight magic properties by morning. Natural magic used to be in abundance in the past but is now almost completely wiped out, most magic being forcibly taken from bugs - the only life form that seems to actually thrive here. But bugs are a symbol of good luck and success and are greatly revered by the people, which makes the people that kill them for their magic frowned upon and shunned by society. Birds, usually vultures, are the opposites of bugs, and represent bad luck and evil omens.
Magic has also come to be associated with criminals and wanderers (the people that wander the desert and don’t have a fixed home, who are often poor traders and are looked down on by wealthier people). Although many people disrespect magic and the people that command it, it’s worth a whole lot on the black market, as things such as cloaks that block the daytime heat and nighttime cold are very valuable. Transforming weapons also fetch a good price.
The society always focuses on success and is against failure, as everyone has to work incredibly hard to survive.

Narrative
427 words

How do you survive in a place like this?
It’s the question I ask myself every single day. I don’t get how people can actually like it here, actually have hope for the future. Dang, I’ve only been here fifteen years and I’m already so sick of it.
Sometimes I wonder if there’s somewhere else out there. Somewhere where you don’t have to fight for every single day you live. Somewhere you can actually go outside without being burned to a crisp or frozen to an icicle.
I finger the red-yellow-orange swirled agate, the last valuable thing my family has left. All the rest was sold for the artificial-tasting mush they try to call food. It was what I was named after. Agate. A rock. Pretty, but useless. That’s not who I am. And as much as this place values success, there’s nothing I can do here, as guess what? I don’t have enough reputation to be of use.
But I guess I deserve it. I’ve made some pretty shady choices, and to be honest, I don’t even care. That red cloak I’m always wearing? Magic-infused. Told my brother and he said the idea of wearing something covered in dead beetles made his skin crawl. I don’t get why you all worship those bugs. Better for them to be dead and useful, I say.
But of course, I can’t actually say. I’d be no better than a wanderer in the glaring eyes of society. The only person I feel I can really talk to is my little brother. His name’s Jezero, and although he’s just like all the others, he’s not as pathetic as they are.
Don’t know how he does it. He’s always so bright, cheerful. He doesn’t care how broken our word is, he’s just glad to be alive.
I don’t care either. Greed is a sin. I don’t want more than I got.
…but I do. I always have.
I’ve always wanted to see the world as it was before. Always wanted to actually use the magic everyone forbids. Always wanted to escape this horrible place where the few survivors cower in their beetle-shell houses and tell themselves everything will be fine if we keep digging for water, if we keep cloning nature and trying to replicate all that we destroyed, if we keep trying too hard to fix the world that our ancestors broke, but we can’t even go outside and I don’t see how we can heal these scars in our pitiful land.
How do you survive in a place like this?

Part 2
1055 words, not including questions

What kind of magic is used in your world?
A hard magic system with rules/laws - however, there are many different variants of magic, and each has a slightly different system. The main two types of magic are Natural and Unnatural -Natural is when nature creates its own magic, and humans can use this magic, but not add to it or change it. It can be combined with other things / other magics, but its properties will still stay the same, and humans can’t make more of this magic. An example of this is the magical crystals that can sometimes form when frost touches sand. Unnatural magic, such as metal magic and magic forcibly taken from nature (eg. beetle or bug magic) can be commanded, warped and changed by humans. However, this type of magic tends to be “darker” and often can’t be used for positive purposes such as healing, as it leaves the user feeling drained and tired. Too much of this can lead to sickness / Magic Poisoning.
What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
Magic is outlawed in this world, due to the danger of using too much and the toll Unnatural magic takes on the already-destroyed world, as well as the fear of depleting nature’s resources even more with Natural magic. Despite this, however, magic is still fairly common, especially with wanderers and the black market. And although the authorities threaten punishments for magic-use, the users will often claim they didn’t know it had magic and they can never trace the magical items back to the original seller, so nothing is ever actually enforced. But the fact that society shuns magic (especially bug magic) is a punishment in itself.
What is an important symbol of your world?
Bugs are a symbol of success and survival, as they seem to thrive in the harsh desert environment. They’re believed to be good luck, and are basically worshipped by the people. There are bug charms, bug paintings… Even the houses are based on the shells of some types of bugs. Anything to do with hurting or killing bugs is very much frowned upon by society - such as magic, as killing beetles is one of the most common ways of harvesting Unnatural magic. The hate of bug magic eventually spread to the hate of all magic.
How is magic viewed in your world?
As a terrible burden upon the people that command it, and that it should never be used. That it is a dangerous, destructive practice and that it is cruel to any animal killed for its purpose. Although it could be very helpful, most refuse to use it, and those that do decide to take advantage of it are viewed as criminals. Even Natural magic is hated, as many suspect an overuse of nature’s magic was what caused the world to become this way (not true). There’s a similar view on technology, although it's mainly viewed as a slightly safer counterpart to magic.
What are some noteworthy examples of problems that characters solved with magic?
The most important one would be the magic cloaks that protect from both the searing heat of the sun and the freezing cold of the night. One of the most common magical objects, many have such cloaks - mostly wanderers and traders. It’s very hard to notice that a cloak is magic-infused, so normal people could wear them around their homes and no-one would know. There is one town, on the very edge of the city, in which citizens rebelled against their government using magic weapons. Healing with magic sandfrost crystals is also something that could really help the world if people just agreed to use it.
What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
Let’s use an example scenario, and say a city was destroyed by Unnatural magic that got out of control, which would be very easy to do. There would first be a lot of rumours flying around and the government desperately trying to cover up that it was magic, but people would soon find out. There would be much public grumbling, the government would pretend that they have no means to find the culprit and leave it at that while the people would try to find the culprit themselves. Everyone would be evacuated, the town burned down if the government had enough resources to do so, and then just left there, contaminated with poisonous magic. They wouldn’t try to fix it.
What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
“Beetleblood” is a common one, usually used by people in opposition to magic.
“I can’t believe she’s spent all her money on beetleblood. Disgusting.”
“That cloak there’s probably made of beetleblood, I know it when I see it.”
A similar one is “beetleblood-wanderer”, used to refer to a wanderer who sells or trades any type of magic. A rude thing to call someone.
“Good-for-nothing beetleblood-wanderers.”
“Wanderer.” A person with no home or town that wander the deserts. Frowned upon by society because of their association with magic.
“I saw a wanderer out the window, filthy and poor as usual.”
How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn?
Not much. There’s no school after primary/elementary, older kids and teens are sent out to work. Education isn’t really viewed as important. Stories are spoken instead of read, and many people can only read simple sentences. The only people that have more than a basic understanding of math would be beetleblood-wanderers. Children are taught that magic is a horrible thing and they should never ever use it or accept an offer of it. Some are taught to recognise it, if the schools can be bothered.
Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic?
A very slight tingling. Natural magic feels cold and smooth, almost like water running over your skin. Unnatural magic feels more like fire, or being poked with needles, although it is very mild. But you can get something called Magic Sickness or Magic Poisoning for using Unnatural magic too much - usually only if you’ve been making it, although if you’ve been touching a surface with a lot of concentrated magic on it you can get it from that as well. Magic Poisoning is very serious and painful, and can kill you if you go into a poisoned coma.
What are the limitations of your world's magic?
Magic can do just about anything if you find the right type- but sometimes the right type can be very hard to find. You can only heal from Natural ice magic, for example. All other types of magics that possess some healing ability, such as the now-extinct tree magic, can only numb pain and you have to wait to actually heal. But although ice magic is common, it melts fast, and although water magic is nice, and can soothe the mind, it can’t heal.

Part 3

Hidden worlds
588 words

It was after curfew.
The moon was a red sliver in the sky, illuminating the dark city beneath with an eerie glow. Nothing moved, the silence almost suffocating, coiling between the houses. Impatient. Hungry.
The monsters were out hunting.
Prowling the dreams of unsuspecting Overworld Children, watching, waiting. Stalking the shadows, the darkness, ashen fingers reaching, morphing into claws, grasping, pouncing, slashing-
But you mustn’t blame these monsters. It's in their nature, after all. Predators and prey. That’s all it is. An intricate dance with evil, the steps learned by instinct, dark and twisted, but beautiful all the same. A ballroom filled with monsters.
But Ophelia couldn’t dance.
A normal girl in every other way. Horns as black as night, teeth sharp as needles. A terrifying sight, if she tried.
But this monster was a vegetarian.
Not by choice. She simply couldn’t Dreamcatch. Her prey did not dream at all. The child she was destined to hunt was impossible to be hunted.
What a dilemma indeed.
She pretended not to care. She pretended she knew, deep down, that she was just like all the others. Predators and prey was all it was, and she was always meant to be the predator. So the predator she would be, an ideal monster, the model child.
Even if it wasn’t in her nature. Even if she couldn’t join the hunt.
She would watch from the sidelines, and that suited her just fine.
Well, sort of.
Tonight was different. Tonight, she had decided, she would fight back against her fate. She would find her prey.

Ophelia stirred amidst the shadows, rippling the silence. Sending furtive glances over her shoulder, she slipped into the open, slinking between the streets, watching and waiting and hunting. To the portal she crept, her ashen fingers tearing open the void, gazing into the darkness that awaited her.
And still, she found nothing.
Until nothing turned into something. And something turned into a picture which turned into a window which turned into a dream.
Except it wasn’t a dream.
Poor Ophelia.

It was late at night in New York.
A girl was walking, sending furtive glances over her shoulder, keeping away from the other late-night pedestrians.
Evangeline was pretty sure she was a monster.
A normal girl in every other way. Hair as black as night, plastic nails sharp as needles. A pretty sight, if she tried.
But she had never dreamed. Not once.
And she had this strange hunger inside her. A hunger that, the longer she kept hidden, grew and grew until it grew teeth.
What a dilemma indeed.
And her dilemma turned into an even worse dilemma, when a monster appeared in front of her.
“Hello.” Said the monster. “I’m Ophelia. I’m going to eat you.”
“No you’re not.” Evangeline wasn’t scared. “I’m a monster too. I don’t belong here.”
“Well I don’t belong either.” says Ophelia. “And I’m going to make myself belong.”
“Why would you do that?” Evangeline asked.
Ophelia blinked. “Because I should. Why not?”
And in her grasping, poucing, slashing claws, she snatched Evangeline away, back into the world of monsters.

They landed in a ballroom.
A monstrous ballroom. Dark and twisted, yet beautiful all the same.
“I like it here,” said Evangeline.
“I don’t,” said Ophelia.
“Oh well,” said Evangeline. “We can dance anyway.”
And so they did.
Whirling around and around, faster and faster, predator and prey, prey and predator, until they blurred together and no-one could tell which was which anymore.

And they finally felt like they belonged.

Urban Fantasy
438 words

It was midnight when I found them.
I was walking home from a late shift, the cold city air burning my lungs, hastily slipping between the buildings that hemmed me in. I’m never comfortable alone at night, but the company has a massive staff shortage, and I was the only person available that could help. I was tired from a long day at work, on edge as I scanned the dark neighbourhood for anyone I should try steer clear of. At that point, I just wanted to get home.
And then I fell over a body.
At first glance, it looked dead, unmoving, limbs splayed in all directions. When I looked closer, however, I could see the faint rise and fall of the person’s chest.
I tried to tell myself there was nothing I could do. But they would freeze out here, all alone. I couldn’t let someone die like that.
I kneeled down beside them, touching them lightly on the shoulder. “Wake up.”
The rhythm of their breaths stuttered. “Wake up.”
Their eyelids fluttered. “WAKE UP!”
And they jerked upright, as I jerked back, terrified. Only one thought echoed around my sleep-deprived head, gaining momentum until it burst out of my throat in the form of words.
“You’re not human.”
“What?” Their voice scraped as if it hadn’t been used in a long, long time.
“Y-your eyes. You’re not human.” I backed away, fingering the keys in my pocket. I could use these as a weapon if it tried to attack-
“What’s wrong with my eyes?” They sounded genuinely puzzled. Genuinely human. “Who are you, anyway? Why’d you have to wake me up?”
“Wow, I saved your life and I don’t even get a thank-you.” Threads of annoyance weaved their way between my words.
“I wouldn’t say you saved it. I would’ve been fiiiiine.” Coughing, the thing stood up.
I stood up, too. “Yeah, right.”
“The name’s Ash.” They stuck out their hand for me to shake. I declined.
“Why were you lying in the middle of the street like that? You could’ve got run over by a car or something!’
“Eh, well, it’s pretty deserted here. I doubt it.” They brushed the dust off their jacket. “I have to go now anyway.” They started to turn around, but I grabbed their arm and pulled them back.
“You don’t get to almost die in the middle of the street, have eyes like that, and then just leave. What are you?”
They didn’t answer.
“What are you?”
“Everyone asks that.” They sounded almost sad.
And then, slowly, they faded away, and I was left holding cold, empty air.

Steampunk
455 words

“Jinx? Where’s the last box?”
“I have no idea, ask Copper!”
“Me, what? I don’t know either!”
The airship was a riot of voices and people, boxes and newspaper, wind from the hatch blowing stray papers across the hold, the clockwork ceiling spluttering and jamming as things flew into it left and right, buffeted by the storm outside. From a swinging trapdoor in the middle of the floor, the workers could see the outline of a Victorian city far below them, shrouded with dark clouds.
In the midst of the chaos, a boy with messy dark hair and goggles jammed tightly onto his face was frantically opening one of the many cardboard boxes scattering the room. “Where is it, I thought it was-” A sudden gust of wind blew him backwards into the wall. “Atlas! Copper! A little help here!”
Two more boys ran over to him, one with a handful of bent letters and the other with a strange contraption strapped to his back, clogged with snow. A squall of driving rain swept inside, drenching all three of them as they desperately ripped open the waterlogged cardboard.
To see absolutely nothing.
“Stolen! Again!” Copper threw a rock he was holding, clattering against the floor with a ringing clunk of stone hitting metal. “They’ll get so mad at us if we don’t deliver the next shipment by tomorrow’s round!”
Blowing his thick blonde hair out of his eyes, Atlas tried to yell something back, but his voice was drowned out by the howling of the wind and rain. Groaning, Jinx pulled the others to the thick rust-stained door at the edge of the room. With a puff of steam and a turning of cogs, it slid aside, and the three friends fell inside to the dry interior of the airship.
“We have to do something.” Jinx whispered, edging away from the corridor where the passengers' rooms were.
“But what?” Copper looked uneasy. “Are you sure we should be in here, because-”
With a sudden yelp, he fell over, the brass contraption on his back spreading wide into two metal wings.
“Put those away!” Jinx hissed, hastily trying to shove his friend out of sight from the many doors littering the hallway.
Atlas hadn’t seemed to notice. “We could make it ourselves-”
“M-make our own magic?” Copper stuttered, trying to shove his wing machine back into place. “W-we c-can’t! I-I make clockwork and you deliver the post!”
“Does it matter, though?” Jinx asked, his eyes suddenly alight. “I say we try.”
“Try what, exactly?”
Groaning, the three boys looked up, to see a shadowed figure looming above them.
“Dad, we promise we’ll-” Copper started, but was suddenly cut off.
“Hold on.” Atlas gulped. “You’re not Dad.”

scratch_warrior_cat

Critique for @shadow-of-a-kitten

Main Cabin Daily, July 20th: What’s the best way to improve, if not by getting feedback from others? We have such a great community of amazing writers here, so let’s use this opportunity to grow our own writing! Comment a piece of your own writing, an excerpt or short story no more than 800 words that you want critique on. Respond to someone else’s writing with at least 200 words of feedback for 400 points.

761 words

I critiqued this writing piece by @shadow-of-a-kitten

First of all, before getting into any details, I’d like to applaud you for the overall excellent quality of this piece! The pacing is great, and you do a very good job of establishing your character’s voice and personality. I also love the way that you incorporate the time on the watch to emphasize the timespan of the story, as well as the continuous internal dialogue that makes it very clear what the protagonist is thinking at every given moment. I don’t think there’s much to improve in the way of storyline, but there are a couple of parts that could be rephrased slightly to help the passage flow better.

Please note that none of this is to be taken harshly. This is a beautiful piece, and everyone has their own unique style of writing. What works for me might not work for you, so please don’t feel bad if I make a lot of suggestions. I know that some of my critiques don’t necessarily apply to your overall skills as a writer, since this piece may have been rushed and its short size does not make it a representative sample of everything that you are capable of. :)

Now, while I go through the story, I’ll provide an excerpt of each part and include my feedback below. Let’s begin…

I glance at my watch: 6:28. The Authorities will be here soon. I attempt to correct my posture further, pulling my back and shoulders up straight, and lifting my chin slightly.

I like the way you go straight into the action, and you do an excellent job of piquing the reader’s interest about who the ‘Authorities’ are and what exactly is happening. I can see that the protagonist is nervous, and that their environment and upbringing seem to be pretty strict. The only thing I would note is that the second sentence is a little awkward. Rephrasing it to something like ‘I pull my back and shoulders up even straighter and lift my chin slightly.’ might help the sentence flow better.

Out of the corner of my eyes I can see the rows of dozens of other people standing shoulder to shoulder, just like I am. I wonder how they feel, because I know I feel absolutely terrified.

Moving on, you do a great job of establishing the setting while continuing the protagonist’s internal monologue. I suggest placing a comma after “Out of the corner of my eyes,” and perhaps rephrasing the second sentence. Because you are transitioning between the protagonist’s assumption of others’ feelings and their own feelings, you can put these in two separate sentences. Also, when you write “they feel… I feel,” it’s a bit repetitive. I suggest replacing “I feel” with “I am,” since it evokes more certainty.

It’s silent in the huge hall, no one daring to even whisper a word. I can hear my heartbeat in my head, loud, fast and unsteady. I’m almost worried it’s so loud everyone else can hear, but I know that this is irrational thinking. I swallow. There is a chance so thin that I’m chosen above all these other people, but something inside me is still fighting, still grasping onto that tiny hope that it could be me.

As your story continues, the way that pressure slowly builds is excellent, and it really pulls the readers in. In the first sentence, I suggest omitting “a word.” The sentence conveys the same meaning without it, and it helps things feel less repetitive and flow better. From then on, the description of the protagonist’s nervousness is amazing, and you can really step into the character’s shoes and feel exactly what they’re feeling. The phrase “a chance so thin” is a little awkward, so I suggest replacing it with something like “only a thin chance” or “only the thinnest of chances.” Other than that, the rest of the sentence is spectacular. :)

It’s 6:29. One minute left.
I’ve spent my whole life training. I was born for this. This is the moment my whole life has been leading up to, where I am either chosen, or I am rejected like everyone else. I know everyone else in this room feels the same way though. Only one person will have their whole life changed with this opportunity, and for the rest of us? Back to school, back to being an average person who failed the only chance they had to change everything for their family - for the world even.

No changes for this passage! The first line gives a tone of finality that really has my heart hopping into my throat, and throughout it all, I can feel the tension rising and rising, and I know that the thing that the main character is waiting for is just around the corner. Amazing work!

I risk a glance at my wrist. 6:30. The door at the end of the hall opens. I swallow - a difficult action when my mouth feels like it’s full of sand and my stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies. The adults in neat navy coloured uniforms enter the room, lining up before us. The man at the front, with an expression of absolute confidence, clears his throat as though to get our attention, despite every person in the room already standing at attention. We all collectively hold our breath. Any second now, he will call the name of the person who was selected.
Time seems to freeze - and then… “Hannah.”

The pressure keeps building and building, and I held my own breath as I read the final sentences of this passage. Your pacing is spectacular, and you do a great job of showing the main characters’ emotions, as well as including the visual elements of the scene. The only thing I have to note is that you use the word “attention” twice in the same sentence, which is a bit repetitive. I suggest modifying the second part of that sentence so that you show the same image without using the word again, such as writing something like “standing as stiff as planks of wood, utterly focused.”

My heart skips a beat. I step forward, fully aware of every other person in the room losing their composure and turning towards me. It’s suddenly so loud, everyone shouting my name. It takes me a moment to realise they are cheering - cheering for me.

There’s an epic “record-screech” moment as I realize that Hannah is the main character, and I fully experience the same swell of triumph that you describe in the story. I have no further comments, and would like to let you know that I really enjoyed reading and critiquing your work!

You’re a great writer, and your skill clearly shines in this story. It’s hard to pack so much emotion and pacing into a short work such as this, but you pull it off flawlessly! You definitely have a promising future in writing, and best of luck for the future endeavors where you put your skills to use!

Last edited by scratch_warrior_cat (July 21, 2022 00:08:00)

Peach_Drawing

ic daily - july 20
words: 865
continued: @fluffyjujunicorn's story
note: i finished everything at the date it was posted. the only edits made afterwards were for formatting and links /gen

The campers who had gathered were quiet for a moment.
“How do you think we can wake them up?” Berri finally asked, breaking the silence.
“I don't know,” Vi began.
“You don't know?” Soki asked skeptically. "You lead Fairy Tales.“
”I don't know, but I have an idea,“ Vi told her. ”It might work, might not. But we don't have enough time to implement it.“
”What is it?“ Gee asked. ”We might as well hear what it is and give it a shot.“
”First, we need to find everyone else who's awake,“ Vi said with a sigh. ”Which would be impossible- after all, we don't know what happens to the people who get fed to the Sci-Fi vortex, and there are people who are missing in some cabins. I don't know how we'd be able to figure out what's up with that.“
”I was the only one awake in the Wilderness,“ Berri said. ”If that helps.“
”The Wilderness is-“ JC began, but Vi interrupted her.
”It's fine, you don't have to explain what it is,“ Vi said. She paused and looked around the group of campers, then at the leaders. ”Soki, can you lead the adventure to find everyone who's awake?“
Soki rolled their eyes at Vi's pun and nodded. ”Yeah. Any volunteers to join me?“
Four hands shot up- Cali, a camper from Non-fi, a camper wearing a Fantasy robe, and a camper wearing robes that JC recognized as that of Hi-fi's Japanese Guild.
”Alright. Can you introduce yourselves?“
Cali nodded. ”I'm Cali, from House Emerson of Script.“
”Rynn from Non-fi,“ Rynn said. ”I work in the Printing Press.“
”Twi, Fantasy,“ Twi chimed in. ”I'm a sorcerer, by the way.“
”Kat, Japanese Guild, Script.“ Kat muttered.
”In the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale, she is awoken by true love,“ Vi continued while Soki began directing the search. ”and the effect of the spell also wakes up the others. But Maleficent said it herself, she cast the spell on everyone. We have two options: wake everyone up individually, or wake everyone up all at once.“
”How would we wake everyone up at once?“ Berri asked. ”That doesn't seem possible since everyone's attracted to different people or none at all.“
”I don't know,“ Vi sighed, ”but we have a ticking clock. When the month ends, we have to have woken up everyone, or else they'll be trapped in the July 2022 version of SWC forever.“
JC shuddered. ”Yikes…“
”So the stakes are the future of SWC?“ Peachi asked. ”That is a lot of pressure… Are you sure that I can't just- swap places with somebody? I mean, not that I'm up for helping keep SWC afloat, but- what if we can't do it in time?“
”We won't,“ Gee said. ”The power of arson, mangoes, goats, and writing will keep us from failing. I know it.“
”Arson, mangoes, goats, and writing,“ JC repeated.
”Uh, yeah?“ Gee asked. ”Did I miss something in the list?“
”The Duck Deity,“ Peachi replied. ”Although, granted, you're not in Fan-fi, but-“
”Arson, mangoes, goats, and writing!“ Vi and JC shouted in unison.
”That's it!“ JC exclaimed happily. ”That's how we're going to do it!“
”Am I missing something?“ Peachi asked.
Gee's eyes lit up and they grinned. ”That's genius!“
”What-“ Berri began.
”We can save SWC through the power of writing!“ Vi exclaimed. ”The true love of everyone who comes to SWC!“
Peachi gasped. ”That is the best idea ever!“
”It's the main thing that SWC has an abundance of,“ Berri added. ”We're going to be able to do this!“
”What did I miss?“ Soki asked when they returned from directing the search party.
”We figured out a way to save SWC!“ JC grinned. ”Arson, writing, goats, and mangoes!“
”Nice!“ Soki nodded. ”That could actually work. But we need magic to be able to pull that off because of the arson. Also, I'm not sure if the goats are awake, but I think mango juice and lots of writing will be the first thing we should go find.“
”Awesome,“ JC grinned. ”So, how much do we need to write?“
”Well, we should probably write a total of one thousand words per each camper that's asleep, as well as get enough mangoes so that everyone has twenty-four,“ Vi mused. ”We're going to need more people than we have, though. SWC has a lot of campers…“
Just then, Rynn ran back, followed by Cali, Twi, and Kat.
”Guys! We found two more people who were awake! Sky and Starry can help do things,“ Rynn exclaimed.
”It's a deus ex machina,“ Peachi joked. ”Clearly, the writers are low on time.“

It was a normal day in SWC- well, not quite. It was the penultimate day, and the writers were done with the amount of words they had to write. Everyone who was awake gathered in a circle and began to cast the spell, surrounded witht he computers on which they had written their thousands of words and the center of the circle filled with mangoes.
”O great deities of arson, goats, mangoes, and writing,“ Vi chanted, ”let this spell awaken everyone!"
There was a great flash of light, and everyone was awake- just in time, too.

Last edited by Peach_Drawing (July 21, 2022 00:06:46)

violent-measures

Part 1: High Fantasy and Worldbuilding

Social:
People take turns doing jobs / education
Education highly regarded
Ignorance frowned upon
Rigid rules
Elders very respected
Obedience prized
Outliers (disabled or unconforming people) disliked—Ostracized?
Physical beauty/appearance unimportant
Punctuality and productivity highly prized
No religion
Mean boy scouts—Always be prepared
Drafted soldiers, everyone must serve
Money doesn’t have much bearing on your situation in life

Government:
Run by parliament
Votes for officers mandatory
Somewhat socialist

Geographical/etc:
Desert/rocky terrain, simple, utilitarian, no natural green
Floating cities/gardens
Privileged vs. poor — perhaps some live lower down

Origin:
Sect of some religion
Survivors from a society which destroyed itself through laziness

INICIO comes from the Old-Speak word for inspire, or beginning. The prosperous, utilitarian city-state of Inicio grew from a small faction of families who split off from a dying country which collapsed, spread out, and the remainder lived in anarchy due to a lack of structure and a desire of the people to participate. Those families who later formed the basis of the city state of Inicio called this simply “laziness” and as a result Inicio is very structured, rigid, and focused on education and participation from all. Votes for members of the Parliament which runs the state are mandatory, and they have several somewhat socialist policies, causing there to be fewer disparities between rich and poor. Everyone is expected to contribute to the intellectual furthering of the state, as well as participate in the military for at least three cycles (that is, three years). All adults are allowed to continue their education or else are required to pass along their knowledge in some manner, and their time is split between education of themselves or others and some sort of occupation. Inicio is split into the upper and lower levels; those which float above are dedicated to agriculture as below has little sunlight and is mostly rocky, desert terrain which poorly lends itself to growth of plants in general. Food is strictly rationed and everyone gets an equal amount. Things such as food and outward appearances of beauty are not appreciated. Magic used to exist widely but has long since been forgotten as it was seen to induce laziness or merely cheaply bought productivity. Magic can be used by simple thought in those born with it, but it is easier when harnessed by some form of physical or verbal structure—art of any sort is the easiest way to use it. There are few things that cannot be done with magic and the boundaries are mostly of the mind or the person’s strength. Magic is like a muscle that must be regularly used in order to have its proper strength. If one is too drained by use of it, you can die. Magic can also be “sprained” and if too extraneous a task is attempted without proper warmup or muscle strength, you will be blocked from using magic for some time.
+380/200 words

Dark buildings rushed away as the train hurtled along its track. Gray shadows covered the pink sky. A little sunlight drifted down into the city on the ground.
The metal pole on which I steadied myself was cool against my fingers. People wearing the usual dark, simple clothes of Inicio huddled over devices which offered diffused blue light, some source of color in the barren, grayscale city. They were probably catching up on work, or perhaps school, before they got home.
I had no energy to spare for such tasks. The only movement my physical body made was the rhythmic tapping of my heavily booted foot against the metal train floor.
It was my mental energy I was trying to excite and awake. The drumbeat of my nervous energy was an anchor, allowing me to focus in order to expel the power gathered in my mind.
One- two- three- four.
My harried breathing fell in time with the beat.
My eyesight blurred as my focus was taken away from the physical world, into the brightly colored, but now equally indistinct world of magic that waited at my fingertips. I needed to find him. He had no idea what he was, and in my mind’s eye I saw the dark shapes of officials come to take him away. Stretching my mental energy further, holding on tightly to the beat that told me of the physical world, reminding me that this bright, beautiful realm in my mind was not real, I searched for a particularly bright spark.
There—there he was. A splatter of mental energy that was bright and colorful, like paint.
Not even noticing that my black hair was falling into my eyes, I continued to tap my foot, now distantly forcing my finger to join in. The pole was hollow and made a particularly interesting sound as I tapped against it with my pointer finger.
With the last vestiges of my failing energy, I sent a message: They are coming. Run. And an image of my face.
I only hoped it would be enough.

Far across town, in the Military district, Aaron Chevez was painting. Darkness seemed to close in as his focus was entirely controlled by the portrait. Tunnel vision.
Suddenly a splitting headache attacked him. Aaron almost dropped his paintbrush.
A voice, part yell, part whisper, hissed, shouted, at him: They are coming. Run.
Then he saw a picture of a girl with curtains of dark hair surrounding her heart-shaped face. Stumbling back, Aaron fumbled for safety against the table which held his paints. The headache suddenly disappeared, and Aaron could finally focus again on the portrait he had almost finished.
A girl, with curtains of dark hair framing her heart-shaped face.
454/400 words

Part 2: Magical Realism

What kind of magic is used in your world?
The magic in Inicio can be used for a variety of things, but currently is not supported by the government, so it doesn’t contribute much to their functioning as a society. Things like telepathy (transmission of messages and location of other magicians or threats; telepathy does not give one the ability to read another’s mind) and telekinesis are often used by most magicians, and certain people are more skilled in one area or another. Magic is a muscle that must be practiced in order to be strengthened, and creative expression can help anchor one to the world or harness magic as it is attempted. It is more difficult to simply use magic by thinking, but it is possible. (118/80 words)

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
The government does not recognize magicians as regular members of society, considering magic to inhibit the productivity and mental stability of a person. Magicians are widely ignored, as there is no way to track them without another magician, unless they do something to disrupt other citizens. If discovered doing so, magicians will be apprehended and are usually imprisoned or exiled in order that they will no longer bother the productivity of their fellow citizens. All people know magicians exist, however, their society is not tolerant of outliers or people who do not contribute. Some few magicians are allowed to continue their lives somewhat normally, though they are given a mark to warn others that they are potentially dangerous and disruptive.
(120/80 words)

What is an important symbol of your world?
A “black cross” is a small plus- sign tattooed on the right cheek of those with magic, if they desire to go out and live “normally,” as a warning to those they encounter to take care around them. However, it has become a symbol for anyone or anything that doesn’t fit in or contribute. People with the black cross are often avoided altogether, and it is almost impossible for them to get a job, home, or friends, although education is available for all and they can freely go to school, at least according to law. In practice, however, it can be a little more complicated.
(105/80 words)

How can your world’s magic aid character development?
Magic can take a lot of determination and resolution to master. If one isn’t naturally creative, it can also be a struggle to properly harness it. As well, not only is the creativity which helps with magic frowned upon, it is basically illegal to be a magician and certainly is to use your magic on anyone or anything. The threat of exile or imprisonment can lead characters to think about what they would leave behind, who they value in their lives, and to potentially be more self-sufficient. It can also cause them to think about what they think is right. It’s much harder to think of something as “wrong” when it doesn’t really affect you. When you or those you love are on the receiving end of oppression, it’s easier to notice, and much harder to turn a blind eye on.
(141/80 words)

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic is not particularly common, and besides the fact that those whose family members are known to have magic are more likely to be magicians themselves, there is no real way to predict who will have magic and who won’t. Apart from other magicians or those branded with the black cross, no one can tell who is a magician and who isn’t. Most magicians are aware that something is different about them, but this is not always the case, and usually they aren’t fully aware or don’t wish to accept that they are magic, but this varies from person to person.
(101/80 words)

How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalized part of your world?
Magic is real and recognized in Inicio; it is merely not accepted. With this fact, it may present some difficulties of making magic seem “normalized.” However, no one is going to doubt that a magician is in their midst once they hear words spoken inside their head or see a giant rock floating in the air. People will recognize magic when they see it, and yes, some will be disgusted and fearful, but others will be in awe. Regardless, people know what magic is, and, to an extent, what it can do.
(92/80 words)

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
Magic is limited by ability but also by imagination. Even someone who is very experienced in using their magic can be beaten in a task by someone with a strong creative anchor, or a more creative solution to the problem. Magic is a muscle that must be stretched, even warmed up. If a spell proves too much, one can die or “sprain” their magic, resulting in an inability to use it for some time depending on the size of the spell.
(81/80 words)

Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
Sight: if fully immersed in the realm of magic, something which happens particularly when attempting to send a message or locate threats or other magicians, a person will see indistinct blurs of light and color, a mockery of the real world, but a beautiful one.
Smell: if pushing your metal energy far, into a different house or area of town, etc. a magician can sometimes catch slight smells of the surroundings or the people they are attempting to message or locate.
Taste: a slightly sweet taste can coat a magician’s tongue when they use their magic, sometimes turning acrid as a warning that they are overexerting themselves
Touch: most of the time, all physical feelings are distorted and blurred by the focus on magic. Mentally, it feels like stretching your mind forward, almost like an arm. If stretched too far it can start to hurt.
Hearing: a slight hum can distort sounds happening in the real world, or for those who use music to harness their magic, the music will overtake all other noises. Sometimes magicians can also eavesdrop on conversations by focusing on them specifically, honing in on one conversation in a crowd. Other magicians can sense this, however.
(200/80 words)

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
Magic is not included in the educational system, for obvious reasons. However, education has an incredibly important place in Inicio’s culture. Adults are required to take part in some form of education, either in furthering their own or teaching others. Ignorance is basically the worst vice, besides laziness. Education is funded by the government entirely because of its uniquely pivotal role in their society. Once people are eighteen, they will split their time equally between work and education, unless they wish to be a full time teacher, librarian, author, or go into some other occupation which by nature is educational.
(100/80 words)

What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
A black cross is a derogatory term either for a magician specifically or just for something or someone who does not conform to social norms or is lazy.
Magicians often use the term “reaching” when searching for the mental energy of another magician or attempting to pin down a threat, because of the slightly stretched feeling of their mental energy “reaching” out.
Magician is sometimes shortened to “mage” and magic will sometimes be called an “other art” or “black art.”
(80/80 words)

Part 3: Joint Workshop

Dystopian fantasy
Aaron had always wondered why others felt it so easy to conform to the rules that seemed strict to him, adhere to deadlines or schedules that grated on him, or endlessly stuff their brains with knowledge that never quite stuck in his.
It was in his first cycle of mandatory military training that he got his answer, through a voice speaking into his mind.
Magic.
Though he’d always known magic existed, the government controlled it so strictly he never really thought he’d encounter it, except in the mages who wore the black cross and sat in an otherwise empty row on the public train. Aaron wasn’t afraid of it, exactly. It was a part of life, it seemed both natural and strange, and above all, distant. Wholly unconnected with him. As a child, sure, he’d thought it might be cool to have telekinesis. Certainly useful! Perhaps, once or twice, he’d convinced himself that the reason he was so strange was because he was secretly a mage. But a quick test to see if his paint palette would lift of its own accord seemingly disproved that theory.
When the voice told him to Run, he didn’t quite know what to do. That was nothing, though, in comparison to his shock when the image of a girl which had been branded in his mind turned out to be the same girl he’d been painting for the past week.
Aaron’s fairly normal world turned upside down.
Magic. It had to be. If not his, the girl’s. The one that spoke in his mind, that he had unknowingly painted. And, though he knew his mother, neighbors, and fellow soldiers would call him deranged for even thinking about associating with magic or mages, he felt an insatiable tug of curiosity, a need to find out more. More about magic, but also more about this mysterious girl, and why long before her voice spoke to him he had translated her onto his canvas.
The sudden darkness jerked him out of his thoughts. Looking around, though, he saw no change. Why had the room suddenly gone cold, then? Why had he been so sure, seconds ago, that black shadows closed in on him?
It was only when the men in dark uniforms entered his dorm that he remembered what else the girl had said: They are coming.
(390/300 words)

Steampunk fantasy
Smoke billowed in heavy, familiar clouds around the room filled equally with the raucous sounds of shouting and metal banging against metal. Viv sighed as she shook her grimy, dark hair from her face, glaring into the metal chamber. It was hard to see, even with the familiar goggles protecting her eyes from the smoke. Reaching in, she stoked the flames. The coals glowed, powering the gigantic steam engine which kept the upper levels of Inicio afloat.
The workshop had a steady rhythm as the pistons pumped and the cogs turned. Viv liked that. She also liked how intense it was. Everything happening at once, it seemed. Everyone working, together but separately. Like the cogs in the machines they took care of.
Brushing her hand over her forehead, Viv glanced behind her. June and Alexis were busy at work, cleaning and oiling the brass gears of the altitude monitor.
It was close to four, and Viv was ready to go home. Her arms burned from tiredness, though they faced the same exertions daily. Her eyes were sore from being open so long, and despite the cloth draped across her nose, her lungs felt choked with smoke.
Finally, finally, the dial clock which hung on the wall, constantly so smoke covered it was near-impossible to make out the time, read four, and Viv’s shift was over.
Sighing with relief, Viv rushed out of the dark, dirty, smoke-wreathed workroom.
Pulling the kerchief down around her neck, Viv took a deep breath of the sharp, clean afternoon air. In the high levels, the air always felt more jagged in her lungs, but just then she didn’t mind.
Heading home, in the same direction of the setting sun, her shadow cast far behind her, Viv looked out at the pink sky, the only colorful thing in the dull world of bronze and gray.
(309/300 words)

Science Fantasy
Orion ran from the dark shadow, ran from the aroused memories of his parents, ran from the only thing that could invade his innermost sanctuary: his mind. He ran, not even caring about the officials or bosses calling after him, not even caring about the tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision, not even caring that his telescope banged against his back painfully with every step.
Finally, after leaving the government building far, far behind, Orion slipped into an alleyway and collapsed, hands over his face.
The slight cinnamon scent of the air should have calmed him, but his heart was racing too hard, too fast, for him to even really notice.
The shadow had been watching him. It knew him.
It was probably still inside him. Orion would have clawed at his skull if it would drive the presence from his mind.
Breaths came in harried exhales and inhales of sweet cinnamon mixed with the harsh perfume of hover car exhaust. Orion pressed his face into his knees, the slight twinge of pain feeling good, grounding him. His hands gripped the metal of his telescope tightly, and he realized he’d taken it out just for the familiar, comforting feel of it. Sighing deeply, he pressed the cool metal against his forehead in an attempt to calm his nerves. He still felt like ants were crawling through his brain, like someone was watching him, like he wanted to scream and shout and cry or just curl up in a ball and ignore the world. But he did feel marginally—marginally calmer.
Sighing, Orion looked around. The alley was slightly grimy, but much cleaner than those back on Earth. He’d noticed that trash cans all automatically combusted any refuse, and no dumpsters or junk crowded the thin area. It wasn’t as elegant or simple as the brick alleys back home, but it was crisp and clean-cut.
Focusing on that . . . helped.
Glancing up, Orion looked at the violet sky, in places tinted white with clouds.
If he stretched his imagination, just slightly, he could almost fool himself into believing he saw stars, twinkling in the twilight colored sky between the clouds.
(359/300 words)

TOTAL: 3,030 words

Peach_Drawing

word war - july 21
words: 230
warred: @cb2jkl
status: lost

The shoebox held a lot of different things: a pen with a leak that left the inside of the box stained a dark black, a pencil that was shorter than an inch and only barely useable (on its last legs, according to my sister), a paintbrush with a small mini kit of paints that didn’t really look like they were big enough to use properly, a big red pen like the type teachers used to grade homework, and a piece of paper that was half stained with the pen’s ink.
But I wasn’t expecting the new addition: a bright blue highlighter, with a happy face written in black Sharpie on the side. That was unexpected, since nobody had really added any new objects to the shoebox in a while. It had originaly been started to make a log of the objects that people liked to use but couldn’t anymore, and then promptly forgotten after the first few objects and left in the corner fot the classroom for a while.
For some unknown reason, there had been somebody who had gone and put a new object in the box. I wasn’t really sure who it was, but there was really only one person who hadn’t forgotten about the shoebox and might have found it one day: Sarah.
Sarah was new to the school, and since this was her first year she

Last edited by Peach_Drawing (July 21, 2022 02:01:16)

puffyfish

weekly #3 - fantasy
2650 words
note: italics i used on the original doc won't show because i copied and pasted it directly and don't want to go through and edit them all in right now, hopefully it will still sound good/flow well :p

part 1
brainstorming
92 words

Forest and plain setting
Near constant rain
Loosely ruled by empire
One protected capital
Small farming villages
Hard magic system
Magic highly protected
Omens based on weather
Walled mountain city
Animals highly valued
Bright colors as signs of hope
Villages mostly isolated
Farmers are important but looked down upon
Surrounded by high mountains
Animal farmers are rare but highly valued
Very few wealthy people (outside of royals)
Familial and territorial dispute within empire forbidden
Traveling people who entertain, trade, and collect taxes
Little to no connection between other nations
Rich in minerals

connections
233 words

Far in the West, cut off from all other nations by towering mountain ranges and dangerous seas, is a small yet strong empire known as Moelle. Shrouded in eternal rain, it is ruled over by a strong emperor from a small, walled capital high in the mountains. Around the capital lie small villages, some of which are so isolated they barely know their own kingdom, in which many crop farmers reside, farming this nation’s strange crops from its rich soil.
Because of the harsh and isolated conditions, there are very few animals that can be used for work, battle, or farming, so those that can are highly valued, and owned by a trusted group of people in the capital. Another phenomenon that has come of the weather and isolation is that the people and the royals look towards their weather to find omens to guide them. For example: an unusually hard rain is usually a sign to reinforce power or to go out and collect taxes from the farmers, and the rare event of a clear, sunny sky tells that there will be hard times ahead.
Probably the greatest boon of this nation is the minerals which can be found in the mountains around it. Although they are not as plentiful as farmers, many miners live in villages along the borders and will search through the stone to find precious gems and metals.

narrative
413 words
When the rain began to pour, I knew we were getting close. I looked down at my army, who had not yet made it to the peaks like me, and I grinned with satisfaction. Almost never in the history of the world had an army successfully invaded the cut-off nation of Moelle, yet here I was, staring down over it. I could see the capital, with its strong walls and stone buildings, and below it, the plains, with the occasional village as well. Once my soldiers had caught up to me, I gave them the next set of instructions.
“We head to to the capital!” I yell, pointing to the city in the distance. “Take that path, and if you see any smaller cities on the way, make sure to go through them as well!” They all began to charge, me running along with them, running through the mountains. I was sure we could take their city, but after we’d had to abandon our horses and supplies to get above the mountains, and now with this rough terrain, I did feel a bit worried. Maybe I should have listened to those legends. Prepared better, or even not gone at all.
But now, it was too late, and I hoped we’d made the right decision. With the capital now clearly in sight, and the armies of Moelle beginning to gather, there was no turning back. I watched from a safe vantage point as my generals gave orders to the troops, who soon after shot their first volley of arrows at the enemy below. We had the high ground, and the battle seemed to be going in our favor - our foes were slowly retreating and we were closing in on them, gradually approaching the capital.
Something about this battle, however, seemed off, and I saw my generals noticing that too. It was almost - no, definitely, too easy. There was some catch we were missing, and the soldiers, too caught up in their victory, did not realize. Not until it was too late.
The second rank of enemy soldiers, who had previously been shrouded by the rocks and rain, ran up from behind us, arrows raining down from hidden archers. I felt myself being pushed to the ground, and when I looked up I saw I was being held at swordpoint by an ordinary Moellan soldier.
I really should have listened to the legends, was the last thing I thought before the blade came down.

part 2
world used is not world made in first part
Questions

What kind of magic is used in your world?
90 words
The ‘magic ‘used in my world is known as Shaping and Vanishing, and as the names suggest they involve creating and disappearing objects. Shapers have the ability to, to some extent, create certain objects out of thin air or grow and expand already existing objects. Vanishers can do the opposite, being able to make parts of objects disappear. There is also a third, unrelated kind of ‘magic’ where the users can manipulate certain elements, but it is largely unknown, and there have been no recorded users in over three millennia.

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
99 words
In many countries, specifically Rengrall and Tairfel, magic is highly valued, and measures are taken to ensure it is used. People known as Seekers are sent around the nations to collect and train young Shapers and Vanishers. In a few other nations, it is looked a bit more down upon, such as in Omanak, where it is viewed more as dangerous and all users are guarded carefully. In most nations, however, it is seen as a good thing and aside from training and documenting not minded so much.

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
81 words
Magic is fairly rare in most cases - it will a lot of the time manifest in random people with no particular pattern, but is also known to be passed down genetically, especially as proven with many royal lineages. Most people born with it are not aware they possess it until either they are found by a Seeker - who uses a special device to locate users - or randomly use it on their own (either intentionally or unintentionally), which is a bit rarer.

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
91 words
If taken seriously and mastered, Shaping and Vanishing do not have much limits. Many of the most powerful users have been able to create and unmake almost anything on a very large scale. The only main limiting factors are simply skill and energy - it is very hard to learn and master it, and when used can be very tiring. There are also two unique metals - aluminum and platinum - which cannot be Shaped or Vanished, can protect other objects, and can even be used to diminish the abilities of Shapers and Vanishers.

How is magic viewed in the world? (ie. as a boring normal, fascinating, etc.)
97 words
In most of my world, magic is simply viewed as a normal part of life, deemed just as extraordinary as any strange laws of science. This does not mean it is not interesting to many people, or that it is always taken for granted, but to most it is generally just another part of the world. There are, however, people who believe it is a lot more of a blessing and incorporate it into their religions on a large scale, and even the very few who view it as a bad thing that needs to be contained.

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
92 words
In most parts of my world, the education system is fairly well-built, with people ideally being educated throughout most of their childhood in several different subjects. What they are taught will highly vary depending on the institution, but students are generally expected to have a basic knowledge of grammar/language, mathematics, history, and some of the sciences. Some more advanced places will also teach extra things such as a different language or basic knowledge of Shaping and Vanishing, and there are also institutions of higher learning for more advanced people later on.

What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
84 words
When magic gets out of control or is used in bad ways, which can happen frequently, many different consequences may follow depending on what was done. For example, many disputes or wars have been started over a conflict relating to Shaping and Vanishing. Even on a smaller scale, a lot of chaos and havoc can take place. When this has happened, things can be done to bring it back into control, like using aluminum or platinum to stop a person from using it altogether.

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
82 words
Throughout most of my world, Shaping and Vanishing affect the different governments in major ways. In Rengrall, for example, the way their king is chosen is the closest to the old king who has Shaping abilities. In Tairfel, the way they choose many officials is through a similar process, along with in many other nations. In Omanak, almost all people in the government are specifically not supposed to have those abilities, except for a few who are chosen specifically for having them.

How is the magic in your world used in your characters’ everyday lives?
82 words
Magic is used in my characters’ everyday lives in a variety of different ways, and without it common life would be much different. For example, skilled Shapers are used to create things like furniture and weapons, and, on a larger scale, most houses. Most of the houses my characters live in and the things inside them were made by Shapers and Vanishers. Some of my characters, who are Shapers and Vanishers themselves, use their own abilities on a daily basis as well.

What are some noteworthy examples of problems in your world that characters solved with magic?
100 words
There have been many major problems and disputes that were solved with magic throughout the history of my world. For one, different wars have been ended with help from magic, sometimes peacefully - like Shaping a gift to the other side - and sometimes not - like Vanishing all the other side’s resources and weapons. Many of the conflicts that happened more recently in my world were also solved that way: the most recent war to happen in my world was when an important artifact was Vanished and stolen, and it took a group of Shapers to find it and bring it back.

part 3

dystopian fantasy
361 words
A cacophony of bells and alarms rings throughout the town, and my eyes jerk open as I force myself out of bed. By the time the second set of alarms rings, I am already standing by my door, clothes and bands on, ready for whatever could happen. This is the day, the day I’ve been waiting for for the past sixteen years. Or, maybe, dreading. As I step out of my house and onto the dreary streets, I see most of the other people already walking, including my friends. If not for the shadows watching every street and the tracking bands on my arms, I’d run to join them, but now I only keep walking forwards, the ruined desert behind me and the city ahead of me.
We arrive at the center of the city, filing into a line leading towards the towering Spire. It is ten times taller than any other building in the city and is made out of a strange, smooth white marble, a sharp contrast to the dull brown and gray that could be found anywhere else. The Spire is the only remnant of what the world once had been, and now it held strange properties that those in charge put to use.
As I come even closer to the Spire, I find myself getting strangely nervous. I’ve always looked forward to this day, known I’d be safe, that I wouldn’t have the… thing. But now, as the shadows lead me towards the center of the marble tower and strap me onto a long metal slab, I wonder if maybe I could have… it.
The slab starts to vibrate, shaking until I can barely breathe, as it lifts me higher, up to a dome at the top of the Spire where a million small tendrils of electricity shoot at me and the slab. This isn’t how anyone older described it… anyone who made it out, I realize with a shock. With this new realization, I start struggling as much as I can, trying to escape the bonds and the Spire and the whole city, as the alien tendrils come closer and the shadows laugh in the distance…

hidden worlds
314 words
As I walked along a wide, busy street, I felt the hidden band under my watch beep - a shrill, rapid sound with a blue flash. There was a dragon nearby, and not just any dragon, a nesting one. And the rapid vibrations, those meant it was in danger of being seen. I quickly dodged into an alley and looked at the band to find more detailed instructions, and saw that its nest was on a windowsill of a tall tower, by an apartment that was not yet occupied but would be soon. So it was urgent.
I ran through the alleys and streets until I was at the base of the building. I could see the nest from where I was standing - to anyone who didn’t know it would simply look like a bird’s nest, but I could see the difference. Wanting to waste no time at all, I ran inside the building and got into the elevator, directing it to the floor I’d estimated the nest to be on. It was mostly deserted, luckily, and I used one of the tools hidden in my band to unlock the door and get inside, ready to quickly remove the nest, until I saw the figure standing there and stopped in my tracks.
Oh, come on! I thought to myself, I thought this would actually be easy! I took out another small tool and aimed it at the bystander before they could move out of the way, temporarily knocking them out. When they woke up, they would hopefully not remember what had just happened, and if they did, well, that wasn’t my job to deal with. All I had to do now was quickly, quietly, remove the nest, and I had just the tool for that inside my band. After that I would simply bring it back to the Haven and make sure I wasn’t seen.

science fantasy
339 words
“Alright, so we’ve been assigned Anomaly #334,” my partner said, explaining our task. She tapped a button on her device and a hologram appeared, showing a large, griffin-like animal. The year written was 2026. “Come on.” She tapped another button and a small blue portal appeared, strange blue sand showing on the other side. I clicked the same button on my own device and the portal grew bigger until it was wide enough for both of us to step through.
Reaching through the portal and feeling the sand to make sure it was headed in the right place, I stepped through, my partner right behind me, ready to travel back hundreds of years.
The sands rushed by us as we drifted through, watching time speed up and then rewind. When it looked like we had reached our year, we each pressed a button that slowed down the sands until the date was exact and we exited.
We emerged in an alley leading into what seemed to be a big street, careful not to be seen. Being noticed had strange consequences, and could cause things even worse than the anomalies we were there to fix. “Do we know where the anomaly is?” I asked my partner, still crouching behind a box in the alley. “Or how to deal with it once we find it?”
“Not really,” she admitted, “but we can always count on some of our more… magical friends to help us out. They have members scattered all throughout the timeline!”
“Only if we need to,” I replied, still remembering the last time I had encountered one of those people. He had seemed friendly at first, and offered to help with my mission, but they all had these strange powers and abilities, and it didn’t help that they claimed they felt connected with the anomalies I was supposed to hunt. Every time I’d even refer to them as anomalies he’d act as if it was a personal offense.
“Whatever,” I mutter reluctantly, “I guess we can go contact them.”

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