eucalyptus ♡ 1993 words
writing competition entry (arli ○ poetry)

The door opened with a slight crackle, a raspy whisper in the quiet night.
Afraid of its own voice.
A tall figure–an older brother, not tall enough to be a parent–appeared in the doorway. The window was covered in the sky’s tears, frozen over, but I could still detect the silhouette without turning my head, and I could trust him.
I swept my pencil over a rebellious strand of hair in my newest drawing. (Another portrait that looked too much like Karli.)
(Since the day I’d left her house without hearing her cheery goodbye, I’d had a hard time capturing the swirling, caring warmth in her blue eyes. Last I'd seen her, they’d been more frigid than the window shuddering in the ruthless cold of what I thought was another November night.)
The figure hadn’t moved, still clutching the door’s handle. Finally, I turned.
“I’m pretending to be asleep while actually drawing. Can you play along?”
“We have to leave.”
A piercing jolt of lightning rose in my heart. Its thunder rolled through my head.
I sat up with a start, my sketchbook in my lap.
“What?” My voice quivered. “…Leave Delmonta?”
Seeing the tear-stained face in the weak moonlight sent more angry jolts through me. I’d expected Adrian, the soft-spoken brother, or Prescott, the oldest. But it was Carson, whose grip on the handle tightened as if it was his lifeline.
“Dad–he just received word from a neighbor–it’s–it’s time to evacuate. Officials–from Xenilla–they’ll be here to investigate and probably arrest us or something by dawn.”
I stood and slid towards my dresser. “What do we bring?”
“Everything you care about. The rest–” he stuttered “–they’re going to flood it, make it look like Delmonta’s in ruins. With the amount the government cares about us…” Carson’s gentle whispers turned to suppressed growls.
I found a black purse stashed in my drawer and searched for all the things I could think to bring. My sketchbook and pencils. The four best books I had ever read with their familiar, worn navy spines. Some photos of my family and me with Karli and the sugar-dipped tips of the Delmonta Peaks. And the tattered blue woven bracelet Karli had given me when we were five. (I hadn’t worn it in months.)
(It was a constant reminder of how I had broken the law.)
(I counted my family’s violations of Emberpeak’s strict laws to myself: My brothers not moving out alone after fifteen. Us living in Delmonta rather than Sumadra. Our various connections outside of home. I had only caused one of those things, in part, but a murky river had swirled into my heart, and the vulnerable crevices its water reached still stung with guilt.)
Carson stepped forward, one hand clenched in a fist.
“Ready?”
“Sure,” I replied, shaking like the window as I ripped myself from my familiar room. Like a perfect drawing, the best thing I could ever make, in two jagged, fraying pieces.
The trees–eucalyptus, the kind that were planted and slated to collapse to the snow or die within a few years, but these were the miracle trees that had been growing steadily with me as long as I could recall–waved me goodbye. The floors creaked with misery, spilled water dribbling down from the windows–the house’s tears mixing with ours.
And suddenly, we were in motion, grabbing our bags and boxes and marching out the door into a symphony of bangs and shrill shouts of the Delmonta code word–Eucalyptus.
I stole a glance at my trees, watching over me bravely.
They were born to fall someday.
Those words drifted through the air with the tiny morning snowflakes that I caught and shredded like my hopes. That this was some sick drill. That I’d wake up again and peer out the trembling window and see that my miracle trees were still standing. That Delmonta was still standing.
I scanned the flocks of neighbors and friends for one face, with icy eyes that had once been warm. And at last I asked Dad, “Has Karli’s family responded to the signal?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
A miserable electric thing happened to my heart that made it sizzle and crackle. That dread in Dad’s voice, the cracks in his broken green eyes, burned my head as I shuddered, grasping for a solution.
“Can I find her?”
He hesitated.
“Go ahead. But… be back before the boat comes down the river to take us to Sumadra. And stick by the neighborhood.”
Little liquid flowers of salty water blossomed under my eyelids as I turned down the Depis River, studying each shard of ice that reached up to the autumn stars. It hurt to imagine those same pieces swimming up and onto the street, slashing my miracle trees like vicious fighters. And when I pictured Karli’s terrified eyes scanning the water, I broke into a sprint.
I had never forgotten the way to her house, past three bends and then to the left of the leaning tree. (The ghosts of my forgotten footprints haunted me as wisps of dust and snow.)
I flew up the steps, facing the wooden door that had turned me away last time, nine months ago. Its peephole glared at me like a vicious eye having just recognized me, and I glared back, knocking on the door with a little too much force.
“Come in!” It was Karli’s voice, proud and courageous. “We’re not afraid of you!”
Glad you aren’t, I thought. I’m your best friend.
I swung open the creaky door.
When I opened my mouth, the searing dry of a Sumadra summer with no rain itched in my throat and parched my words to death.
“And don’t try to talk us out of staying here. You can flood us away if you want.”
Why would I even think to do that?
“If you want to just manipulate us into getting interrogated for things that shouldn’t be crimes, then you might as well just head on back to your lovely fields below Xenillus and ponder your–”
“Karli, it’s me.”
Words had finally survived the drought, soaking up the relief of knowing she hadn’t been speaking to me.
I heard a faint stay here, then footsteps down the hall, and finally Karli appeared from by the stairs, her eyes–
–still frozen cold.
“What do you want, Emma?”
“I want–”
Clouds hung over my head and smothered each explanation, until finally one was picked up by a ray and dragged from the mess. “I want you to get out of here.”
Her reply came back quick, like an arrow already in flight. “Didn’t think you cared that much.”
“I was afraid, Karli, when I told you I couldn’t keep coming back.” I twisted my fingers. “For the both of us.”
“Seems like a you problem to me.”
The drought persisted on, with swirling winds of dust, with crackling desert and scratching tumbleweeds.
“I–I’m afraid now. In a whole new way. If you don’t get out of here, you will be interrogated or arrested or flooded away to make it look like Delmonta is desolate.” And I saw a bolt of fear slash through her eyes, but her reply still came back sharp and cold like Delmonta’s wintriest winds.
“I’d rather die for what I believe in than be like you.”
The last word propelled through the air, slicing my heart and stinging my eyes.
I staggered into the pebbly wall behind me. Karli’s cracked, frozen lakes of eyes turned to blurs of ice blue. She seemed satisfied with her words, and turned to the window, just in time to calmly watch a canoe reach the banks of the Depis River.
Maybe she was searching for the fate that she would soon know too well. Her choice, but my choice too. Because nine months before I had told her I was afraid to keep throwing the law to the wind.
(The first sirens cried out.)
Because she thought I cared about a scroll more than her, that we hadn’t shared the slicing pain of a friendship sliced in two.
(A flash burned from the easternmost corner of the mountains.)
“Think your little boat ride just took off,” Karli finally spoke with icy calmness.
And the walls of the world closed in on me, thundering like violent storms ready to destroy each thing in their paths.
“Karli–” I gasped the words out. “You have to come.”
She walked through those walls, locked her fingers with mine, pulled me to the door, and opened it wide.
(The flares of the sirens were bright now, balls of lightning in all different colors.)
I stumbled out the door. It wasn’t my decision.
“Go.”
Her last word to me was colder than her eyes had ever been.
Then the peephole’s clear, lifeless eye was staring back into mine, and a sharp slap of a noise reached my heart.
Choking in a breath, I turned toward the Depis River–
–and the canoe was gone, taken away by the ice.
I had azure eyes like Karli’s, and streams came running out from the lakes, as the colors of the flares splashed through them.
I ran past the pine tree, along the three bends. I ran back to where I had turned away from my father and where my miracle trees stood high. I saw the stony little steps, the white bricks just beginning to glow in the faintest early morning light.
The brave ones who had stayed behind were holding buckets and tubs and filling then with the Depis River’s water, which had turned from black to grey.
I began to scale the steps to my house.
Then a hand grabbed my wrist, and I flinched. A scream nearly flew from my lips, but a soft and young voice whispered to me, and told me everything’s okay, I can help you. The woman turned me towards her–she was young, an adult but still young–and I saw the warmth in her eyes. The warmth I had once trusted in Karli’s, and my parents’ and brothers’.
“The river.” Her voice was shaking plenty, soft and young as it was. “It’s cold, yes, but it’s manageable. The current is flowing strongly towards Libria. Jump in the river and swim as fast as you can.”
“And what about the officials?”
“They are not going to find you there. The river is shallow, and it’s not deathly cold, and it will bring you to the safety of Libria.” Her voice shook on the last word, as if it had been pushed onto a ledge. “Go now, before they come.”
She released her grip on my wrist, and I gazed into the woman’s terrified chestnut eyes before turning and running towards the river. I could almost see the lights flaring on its rippling surface, before they reached me.
I fell into the biting cold.
My trees wavered and shuddered.
They were born to fall someday.
They had sprouted from the same merciless snow as I did.
I was born to fall someday.
Delmonta was born to fall someday–and that was the day it finally did. I had been clinging to a thread of hope that slipped from my hands that day, which I had not realized before. Delmonta and the miracle trees and I were one in the same.
So the trees will fall today.
A cold grimace crossed my face, and my tears stained my eyelids pink before mixing with the river. Images of spiky roots, lifeless leaves, and weeping icicles seeped into my mind, and I pushed myself deeper into the frigid water.
Yet the trees stood tall. They assured me that they would be strong, that I would be strong, that Delmonta was somehow still strong–and they stretched their branches proudly into the air. They didn’t fall, as far as I knew, and I saw them standing over me, as they always had, until I was whisked away.
Unless we’re all still standing.

Writing Comp Entry
Sapphire Sand
453 Words
Original Story by @blvberri-mlkshks
————————————————-
Sapphire Sand sat quietly on the beach, the water tentatively lapping at her bare ankles. Her long blue hair stood out in the darkness, looking like a droplet of crystallized sun in the dark sand. The white lace shawl over her bare shoulders stood out bright in the misty summernight. She looked over the foggy water, looking for some kind of sign, a sign of which telling her what she was doing was right. She remembered what happened with Maya all month. Maya was beautiful, elegant and perfect. Maya was everything Sapphire wasn’t. And then, Maya was there. Sitting next to Sapphire on the beach.
“Hey,” She said.
“Hi,” Sapphire muttered. Maya’s blond hair was shorter than it was the days before. It was to her chin now, not down her back.
“I thought about what you told me. About liking me,”
“Oh,” Sapphire said. It was all she could say. Sapphire put herself out there, saying she liked her. And all Maya said was, well nothing. Maya ran from her.
“And, well you see, I can’t really like anyone. It’s just knowing who I am. I don’t feel love, not for other people. Not romantic love” She said.
“Oh,” Sapphire said. That could happen? She had no idea. But Maya seemed like she knew it, she knew herself so well. SO she didn’t love her as much as Sapphire loved Maya. But that was a risk she took when she told her. Maya’s white tunic flowed in the wind.
“So, no love?” Sapphire asked. She was still a little confused about the matter. She loved a lot of people, one of them being Maya. But Maya didn’t love anyone.
“Not Romantically. It might change later on, but for now,” She picked up a speckled brown rock and tossed it into the water, the water rippling around its gentle plop “I don’t feel love,” Sapphire nodded. She understood it now, She understood that this was Maya. And how could she be the one to tell her differently? Sapphire had four sisters, and all of them were different. Why couldn’t Maya be different too?
“But you see, If I were to love anyone, it would be you,” Maya said, placing her hand tentatively on Sapphires.
“You don’t have to say that,” Sapphire quietly muttered, the tips of her ears turning red, unseeable to Maya because of the darkness that blanketed them.
“I know,” She said, smiling and squeezing Sapphire's hand, a little sign of everlasting friendship.
“But I wanted to,” And that was all Sapphire needed. She didn’t need Maya’s love, or her liking even. All she needed was to know that Maya would think of her. And then her life would be complete.

My writing comp entry.

Warning for some violence.

Me, Milani
Milani watches in something more than horror as the heavily-armoured man pulls his sword from her brother’s chest.
She tries to say “Michael” but it comes out as a choke. It’s obvious he’s already gone: body limp, so much blood seeping across the stones - she screams wordlessly and falls to her knees, attempting to struggle when someone grabs her arms, but finding she has no strength. She’s not sure whether or not she continues to try and break free from her captor’s grip, but she does know that she eventually gives in. Later, Milani finds herself in a heap on the floor of a prison cell. Light streams through a single window - the room is just below ground level.
Milani shudders involuntarily and pulls her legs to her chest. She thinks. Never again will I storm a castle. Never again will I risk loss. Never again will Milani keep hope near her heart…
… even though it’s what Michael always said to do.
Milani. She lets herself drift towards the safety of sleep.

“Where are the rest of your forces hiding?” the interrogator barks. She hasn’t answered their questions. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to. She wants to fall asleep, or better, black out. More questions are asked, and when Milani gives the man only silence, a hand slaps her across the face. She falls backward. She decides not to open her eyes.
“I think she blacked out.”
“Ugh. You shouldn’t have hit so hard.”
“You have to hit hard to let them know you’re serious.”
Milani speaks. “Serious people don’t kill.”
There’s quiet, then slow steps coming towards her. “Tell that to your murderous friends.”
But this man and his monarchy started the murder.
The last thing Milani knows is a heavy boot colliding with her head.

She doesn't want to wake up. Drifting in that blackness is so much better, but it won’t let her stay. She thinks she's muttering something, but she doesn’t have it in her to listen and see what it is.
Milani fights back the memories the interrogator brought back. Her family, her childhood life, what the death of her parents caused within her… but she still had Michael, Michael -
She puts her head between her knees. Milani doesn’t want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about anything, ever again.
And perhaps that'll be easy, once they realize she can’t tell them anything, and she can just lie in this cell forever.
And if her memories will go away.
If her brother will leave her.

She tries to drift in the darkness. It works a little. She's not sure how much time passes in between each time she opens her eyes. The interrogator comes less and less. He asks fewer questions. It’s less distraction from Milani’s thoughts but more time for drifting in the darkness.
One morning, when Milani’s only half there, there’s a clank that makes her look up. There’s a guard shoving a tray through the slot in the door. Milani sees a small loaf of bread, a piece of dried meat, and a tin of water. It feels important even though she doesn’t want nourishment. She doesn’t think as she moves forward to take the bread, and it takes Milani a while to notice the guard still there, watching her.
“You brought me food.” The words just come out. Maybe she - Milani - is trying to say thank you; she herself doesn't know.
“Just like every day,” the guard states, and Milani isn’t surprised she doesn't remember.
The guard shifts before speaking again. “I don’t understand why you do it. Why you rebel, and hurt people.”
It all flashes through Milani’s mind, everything this empire has done. She doesn’t want to answer the question, but the guard keeps looking at her with a blame-filled gaze,and she thinks - I feel… I need to speak.
“Your kingdom’s soldiers killed my parents, and now my brother.”
“Your brother killed others himself.”
“The few times he did it, it was for freedom.”
“This kingdom’s soldiers saved my entire family when I was a mere newborn. I am forever in their debt and on their side.”
The guard turns on her heel and walks away. Milani finds it harder to stop thinking again. Milani finds herself… feeling, again.
I don’t want to feel.

She doesn’t speak, as much as she’s able to. Speaking brings her back. But sometimes when the guard brings her food, she asks questions, about Milani’s motivations and things that no longer seem important. And sometimes Milani finds herself answering, saying the first thing that comes into her head while barely hearing it.
“I fight to make sure others don’t go through what I did.” “I’ve never wanted to hurt people. I want to try and stop them from ever hurting.”
The guard, Ellida, listens and believes her, but keeps a cold gaze and a blameful opinion. Milani doesn’t mind. She doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t want to care.

Once, in the middle of the night, she hears voices. It sounds as if two people are talking at the end of the prison hallway, and one of the voices is Ellida’s.
“This won’t work.”
“I want to be with you. I want to be allowed to love you.”
“Felix… I don’t see how it’s possible.”
“Please, can we just think about it - “
Ellida’s voice is sad as she replies. “I know your plans. But you have responsibilities. We can’t let the kingdom down just for us.”
There’s no more talking. Only the sound of someone walking away.

Ellida comes the next day, her face stony as always.
And today, Milani finds herself deciding to ask a question; I always asked questions.
“Do you think people should be allowed to love who they want?”
Ellida looks at her sharply and doesn’t speak yet.
“My parents…” Milani tries to get herself to speak, but it’s quiet. “My parents weren’t supposed to be together. That’s why your kingdom deserves to fall.”
The hard words and thoughts seem to pour from some rock in her heart, one that’s been broken into tiny pieces that want to break free.
“The kingdom has its strengths and its flaws, but it protects people.”
Ellida walks away as Milani eats her bread.

She hears more conversations in the night, some angry like the first, some nothing by quiet, secret, probably cherished exchanges of words. They get less and less frequent, though, and Milani thinks she should be glad.
I’m not glad.

One night someone appears outside her cell. He leans against the opposite wall, shivering. And crying. From his clothes, she can guess who he is.
“Heir.” Milani did not mean to say that.
But the young man responds. “Of an incredibly stupid kingdom.”
“Then leave it.”
“I want to. It would be my plan, if not for…”
She realizes it when he trails off, realizes who this voice belongs to. Words rush out, and perhaps… it could be because she wants them to. “Then convince her. You can come back and make things better. But you have to leave for a fresh start. I had to.”
“But you joined a band of killers.”
“I don’t think so. But whatever you believe, you can do what you want. Don’t join anyone, and then come back to make something of your own to join.”
He mutters “I don’t know why I’m talking to a prisoner,” before saying more loudly, “it all sounds so complicated.”
It does. It is. Can I really do this? She wants to - to stop this boy from going through what she did. She wishes she could go back to the darkness, away from the possibility of loss. But that darkness isn’t safe, she thinks. I don’t think it ever was.
“I can help you. Just let me travel with you until you’re out of the city. Please.”
The prince stares at her, Milani, looking like he’s trying to discern her motives. Then he dries his tears, and nods. I’ll bring Ellida. Tell her what you told me.” He pauses. “And I’ll tell her that I love her.”

Ellida frowns, an expression that’s not unusual on her face, seeming surprised at the number of words spilling from her prisoner’s mouth.
Finally, when Milani thinks Ellida will finally give an answer, the guard only slides to the floor and cries for a few minutes while Felix holds her.
“I’ll do it, I’m done, even though we’ll be outcasts. But if I don’t go you’ll go without me, and you need my protection. I guess it’s good I’m a guard and you’re a prince.” She says it all quickly, then smiles a bit through her tears.
Milani’s hands are clasped tightly in her lap.
My heart beats quickly.
Milani stands.
I, Milani, speak. I am myself again, and I speak. “Let’s do it tomorrow. I promise I’ll carry out my part of the plan.”
Felix meets my eyes. “And I promise I’ll carry out mine.”



btw, I made up the name Milani, but I don't know if it's actually a real name in another language or anything, and I didn't have time to check.

writing comp entry, wooo tws: mentions of deaths, depictions of grief

on inexplicable things and the nature of grief

every inch of this place scares you. somewhere off in the distance is a warbling opera tape, and birds dash in and out of broken windows. the birch tree in the backyard is swaying, and the leaves rasp against the walls. even though the sun is shining, you feel like a little kid again, scared of a thunderstorm. but this is your father's house. you have lived here as long as you can remember. you are stardust, like the blanket collecting in the attic and like your dead half-sister.
the stairs loom ahead of you. you haven't been here since you were a child, and atlanta is beckoning you back into the safety of the city. you remind yourself that to be a scientist, to be an astronomer, is to look up at the darkness and find the light. climbing the rungs, you finger for the light before grasping at the cord. light floods the attic, and you swear you can see spiders and such scatter into empty space.
each floorboard creaks so much that your bones – young yet old as the universe – ache in sympathy for the neglected house. no, not neglected. your sister had taken good care of the place, despite everyone knowing it was a lost cause. just driving in, you gathered so many looks of faux pity. sister dead, now another relative in the grave.
by now you have moved to the floor away from the entrance, allowing yourself to bask in the fluorescents. the box you rest on is your sister's old dolls, the one she had to beg for weeks to get. it doesn't look like she messed around with the attic, because everything is unorganized and strewn about like he used to keep it. photographs of the family cover the floor, some haphazardly taped onto support beams, others clearly tossed aside without care. you pick one of them up. it's you and your sister as children, smiling happily at the camera in front of the birch.
what had you even come in to look for? you put it back in its non-existent place with as much affection as your father had for it before racing down the stairs.
-
the kitchen is empty. of course: family members had come and picked the house clean. tomato soup is on the menu, you announce to the birds that continue to make residence in the roof. you quickly realize, however, that you should've chosen something faster to make, because now all you are stuck with is yourself. with the old adage about idle hands and whatnot in mind, you dash to find something to keep you busy. a grilled cheese sandwich is easy enough to make, and you pull bread out from cabinets, then search through what feels like a dozen more to find one with a pan. oil: recovered during your hunt. a drizzle suffices in absence of butter, and you plop the sandwich onto the bubbling pan. still the soup is not ready, and you run over to the sink to get a glass of water (you end up making three more, for the birds, and set the table for four).
the pests in the dining room have invited leaves, and you can't gather the energy to be mad. you do get enraged at the repetitive aria that the record player is blasting, and almost smash the thing to pieces before your senses return. as delicately as the feathers flying around the room, you pick the vinyl up and set it aside. you walk back to the kitchen and almost shriek when you see smoke.
you end up having to toss out the sandwich, and still the soup hasn't boiled yet. you slump down again, this time against the oven. two days away from home, and you've already managed to almost break an antique and could've burned the house down. you take deep breaths, telling yourself that you are special because you are stardust. then you remember that everyone is, so you make amends. you are special because you know who you are: a splintering of the universe passed down to you. your thoughts are interrupted by the howling of the kettle and the tomatoes boiling over.
-
nighttime comes. you've taken a trek back upstairs, to find a chest or wardrobe or whatever it was that contained that telescope of yours. now you're standing in the same place as you were in the photograph, except twenty years older and not smiling. you haul the telescope out so you can face the moon, and kneel down to zoom in. the swing on the tree groans in the wind, still kicking after ten p.m. the craters of the moon are lovely, and for a moment you think this is a better view than light-polluted atlanta. you blink. it's pathetic that even after her death, you still live vicariously through your sister. come to think of it, you never should have come here in the first place, because all it has done is remind you that you have always been second best. the birds don't come here because of any supernatural obligation, they come here because your sister was kind, and your father's genes are the one thing you two had in common. you have never been anything but a silhouette of her, and everyone knows it. you haven't lived in this house since you moved out at seventeen, and never communicated.
you need another lens. you unscrew the one that was already on and fish around for the other. there's something that feels like paper, the parchment type. no. but you grab the letter anyways, and let your sister come to life again.

weekly

part one: 359 / 419

Fish swimming in blue nyxtrees
Ground a flat, endless plane of blue grids
Winter is shown by crystallized cherry blossoms and leaves
There is no wind except what blows in from the grounded Tierra.
Kelpies live under the marshiest parts of the leaves
There are forts in the most brittle parts of the woods
Ruins of wells and clay can be found in the weakest sectors of both sides
There are different clans with varying levels of bloodshed.
Tierra lives largely in ignorance of the Veil
Veils can be broken by the most powerful of the people
Tierra is too loud and cities’ heartbeats are like a call to the fae
Winter is their shortest season, and so cherry blossoms are a delicacy in the Tudor Clan
The Helios Clan is the militaristic one made of avians, claiming land where it can.
Eye for an eye - murder is punishable by murder, theft requires payment of same amount in the Veil
Marriage is nothing more than an elaborate ritual of melding power and money rather than love
The forest is very homozygous, there is little plant diversity
Hunts on Tierra provide the majority of their resources
Avians, elves, druids, etc. live in the world under blanket of ‘fae’ (except for avians)
People worship the moon sun or nature, avians and druids are foes for this reason
Tierra’s mythologies are just versions of the things spotted on hunts throughout history
Druids know most languages that the species of the Veil speak, and know whatever language they spoke on Tierra before joining the Hunt

All the trees of the Veiled are a lovely shade of blue. Some are a rich red beneath the bark, and those are known as redwood. Others are called nyxtree, as they are dried and hollow and make eerie shadows at night. The nyxtrees often have fish occupying them. Mostly, they are koi-like with catfish whiskers. Water runs through the trees, like a mini waterfall. The water doesn’t seep into the ground below, nor does it make the nyxes seem any less dry. Only redwood has leaves, which fall onto the ground and don’t decompose. Instead, they cover up the floor, which is mostly flat. The Veiled is an endless plane covered in forest, and the land itself is blue with a grid of purple lines. With this, land claims are made easily. The Veil has many occupants, including avians, druids, pixies, and elves as sentient races, and kelpies also exist. The elves and avians have different clans, with small amounts of other races in each. The Helios and Tudor clans are the largest, majority avian and elf respectively, and each have forts made out of nyxwood. The Helios clan is based on the goal of expanding and trying to gain the most territory of the fertile redwood forests. They are very strict on societal expectations, and exile avians that cannot fly. A rule universal between all groups is their punishments. A murderer, if caught, is executed. A thief is required to pay back double of what was stolen, and so forth. Druids, elves, and pixies are all called fae by those on Tierra, the flip side of the world. The veil hides them, but seasons bleed through in a way. Winters in the Veiled are characterized by cherry blossoms, but when the winter and Tierra fall coincide, a thick fog settles over the forest. Sometimes the Veil can fail, and it’s often when the leader of a clan breaks the veil with their strength in numbers. Then, Tierra’s cities are ravaged by hunts: this is how mythology was formed, by the horrors of the Hunts. In the weakest spots, ruins are found on both sides of the Veil.

She takes a deep breath. She has done this before, of course, but last time she wasn’t as weak. Now, her crutch makes a noise against the fallen leaves with each step as she hobbles forward. She grazes a hand over the trees. Nyxtree, of course, so she has to be even more careful. The rumors back with the druids all said that the numbers of exiled avians had increased. It seemed the new leader of Helios was stricter. A shame, because she’s now sure she’s going to get caught. She slumps down against a tree, letting the walking stick crash into the leaves.
Water is flowing. Her eyes flick about, trying to catch the source. Then she spots the tree next to her, and she wonders if the Withered is where the druid myth of madness comes from. Legend has it that running water, a thing not common in the Veiled, would cause avians, scared of water, to go insane whilst exiled. She wonders if the red eyes of the Helios leader meant he had been exiled once. More importantly, would any avian she met be bloodthirsty? Refuse to hear reason?
She shouldn’t have jinxed it. The galloping of a kelpie gets closer, before a wing seems to overshadow the whole forest. She struggles to her feet and kneels, only proper for a druid to an avian, the arrogant plague of the Veiled.
The avian dismounts. “What is a lunatic doing so far from the communes?”
Customary respect aside, she will not tolerate slander against Selene. “What is an avian doing on four legs, or have you forgotten your upbringing?” she growls, immediately regretting it.
The avian gets closer. She prefers having names to faces, and he looks like a Luke. Luke gets all up in her face, his wings unfurling. “We are so far from the redwood, I wouldn’t antagonize your superior.”
One wing is bandaged. Bingo. “And you are so far from your clan. Helios, I’d bet? They don’t appreciate broken wings, and our peace treaty was doing so well, it would be a shame to break it.” The words are probably cruel and also a really bad idea, but-
“Come on.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s obvious you’re not it good enough shape to get to the Helios fort alive, and I wouldn’t want my secret getting out. I’ll take you back to the druids, so long as you heal this wing. Can you do that?” He asks. She nods, and that is that for this time.

part two: 923

Abilities of magic: Druid magic is mainly elemental, and is used via the moon or whatever nature the druid worships. It has to do with healing, plants, or elixirs, but only moon druids are able to make those potions. This is how druids, who need food, keep themselves alive. When pixies use magic, it’s to go invisible or small optical illusions. Elven magic is more unpredictable, and only comes out when they are so angry that they can do curses or blasts of energy.
Limitations: The limitations of magic is that constant use requires things from beyond the veil. Druids need ingredients such as herbs, and there is such little biodiversity that they have to travel to Tierra in order to gather things or find Tierra’s forests to worship there. Additionally, there is no moon in the Veiled, so moon druids have a limited amount of energy before having to ‘recharge’ at one of their Tierra counterpart’s shrines. Pixies have only small amounts of magic, and elven magic is too rare to be reliable.
How common is magic: Magic is common in the Veil, but less common on Tierra. Some humans acquire it on Hunts, on the rare occasion that they happen to survive. Others are descendants of fae, and so they get their magic from there. There’s also the fact that witches exist on Tierra, and though magic is not birthright, it can be developed. Also, not all humans captured on hunts become druids. Some, if suited to the Elven cause, are given necklaces to blend in. It’s impossible to not know if you have magic.
Folk tale: The raids on Tierra are heavily influenced by the Wild Hunt, a procession of the dead led by some sort of king. It is a canonical thing on Tierra, where the magical inhabitants know that that motif was just accounts of the elven raids. They are equally terrifying as the stories, and if you see one, you will most likely be killed, although occasionally you are benefitted. On Tierra, they are alerted of the hunts by sirens engineered in the second industrial revolution..
Education: Different states have different education systems. The Santana region is notably cut off from the knowledge of magic, and isn’t in the right climate to receive hunts, as most happen in temperate zones. Those in cities like St. Cera, St. Paul, or Atalanta do get taught about magic in upper education as a precaution. The kingdoms in the overseas Highlands are well-versed in magic, as they had the most oral records of various phenomena. Rural areas are simply told to pray to God, and that magic is wholly demonic.
Viewed: It’s viewed differently depending on where you live. Most of the northwestern world was afraid of magic for a very long time, until hunts began increasing. After, some cities like St. Cera began respecting their magical communities, because they are the primary defense against the hunts. St. Paul still lives in fear of magic, because their governments were able to strike a deal with the elves of the Helios clan and now are preoccupied with getting them out of there.
Sensations: Using magic is like having a second heartbeat. To be able to properly use it (exceptions include potions, elven magic), you have to be able to school the rhythm into your own heartbeat, because otherwise it is too loud to focus. Pixies often overexert themselves when going in visible, and they often bite down on their tongues to force concentration. Pixie blood tastes like cherries (they come out only during sakura season), so they taste that sometimes while practicing magic. Druids sometimes get flashes of whichever nature goddess they serve, and often focus on the feeling of their wooden staffs to ground themselves.
Government: Due to the perceived (but false) ability of magic to solve society’s problems, governments are not very happy about magic. They tend to repress magic as much as possible, and try to keep them from holding public office. Atalanta is an exception, and is considered the magical capital of the northwest. Additionally, interregional mail is checked under some circumstances. Despite outwards hatred of magic, governments often employ them in low, non-elected positions because of their knowledge of the Veil’s next moves.
Character Development: Magic must be learned like all other skills. Pixies go through an arduous trial of error just to be able to use it at all (hence their isolation). Born druids spend their childhoods studying under their parents and the rest of their family, and witches and made druids immerse themselves in rigorous learning to catch up. All of this makes them more perseverant and intelligent, if done properly. The most powerful of witches (druids try to keep away from hierarchies) have to prove their wits and magical prowess to keep their reputations on Tierra. Finally, humans have to figure out how to survive near-constant Hunts in St. Cera, and St. Paul eventually deals with war due to magic, so everyone in those areas has lots of character development opportunities.
Out of Control: Everything. There are power-hungry people everywhere, from the avians to elves to witches to humans. Avians and elves have clans in the Veil, adding to the hostility. There have been cases of enraged elves accidentally killing royals, making power vacuums, and the same goes for witches in olden days. Recent conflicts have been egged on by magic, and wars are made more destructive by simultaneous Hunts shredding the Veil using all the chaos. One witch accidentally made a bioweapon using botany, and others have made a mess of the Veil’s political landscape by making interdimensional alliances.

part three: 355 (urban fantasy, tw mention of deaths) / 302 (steampunk, tw death) / 305 (dystopian)

St. Paul has just woken up, but Valencia Garcia has been awake for hours. She’s made calls to each of her employees, from Saira to Anna to Adam. None responded. It’s been one month since the first culling, and the screams are still ringing in her ears. Saira in particular had been tasked with the investigation, and they were meant to meet this morning at 4am, but no one was to be found. She sips some coffee, her third cup today. There are dangerous avians on the loose, and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Still, a part of her is nervous. Yesterday, the governor said that the sirens were a malfunction, but that might not have been true. And a murderer is on the loose, and she had asked Karl to work on that.
She stares out into the city. Someone is trying to hail a taxi, and someone else with vaguely elfish features is unlocking a bodega. A group of men begin hauling trash into garbage trucks as a curious child watches. This is her city, or at least her specific neighborhood group, so she’ll continue to do her duty to it. Valencia picks up the telephone and once more dials Anna.
“Hey Val, what’d you need?”
She tries, she really does, to not breathe a sigh of relief. Anna, the artistic little punk whom she’d assigned to photograph crime scenes, the girl who’s in a group picture on the wall, is alive. “Where have you been?”
“Well, Saira wrote to me yesterday about something weird in the papers. They’re reporting about that mass murder down on South 27th, but-” There’s a pause, presumably the ruffling of a newspaper. “Witnesses are swearing that some woman was killed, but the photographs of the event show the same girl, perfectly healthy, exiting the building. She just thought, y’know, supernatural public figure might be a lead-”
The headache’s back again. “Look, Anna, it’s great knowing you’re alive, but I need to leave. Report back this afternoon, okay?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, slamming the phone back down. Valencia hopes the next culling never comes.

No one has ever questioned Villegas’s unexplored sea before. The beach is hospitable, for the most part, but some days the ripples of the waves are just too unnatural. Something clearly splits the sea, but what? The government had placed signs saying that deep diving wasn’t allowed due to the lack of knowledge about it, but people began getting curious about the ocean, including Victor Reyes. He was an eccentric fellow, but so were many others in Villegas. Would anyone think twice about a submarine amidst trains tracing the sky?
Step one was to find blueprints. There were so many inventors in the town, so Victor was relying on a design already existing somewhere in the library. And he was correct: a combination of three types worked.
Step two: build the thing. That was easy enough, though, as it was his specialty. It only took two weeks before Victor had a working prototype. But by then, there wasn’t time for anything else. A freak storm was closing in, and scientists were predicting it would last months. Victor had to know if there was anything that might wash up in the storm that his coastside house had to worry about. And so, step three.
At midnight, he lugged the copper colored submarine into the sea, ignoring the cold of the water. The propellers made no noise because of the floating factories further out, and he wasn’t worried about getting caught. The ship slipped below the surface quietly.
It turns out that the depths like their privacy. It turns out that the ocean will spit out technology, because even the inventions of man that thrive on land cannot yet best the riptides. And who better to guard the sea but a serpent, delivering a message of gnarled metal and crunched bones to the shore?

Naomi has never liked hiding. It is cowardly, and that is something she isn’t. She does it anyway, uncomplaining (at least that’s what her parents think). She lives on the outer ring of the land, and so society shuns her. But what is on her side is the sky, clouds conveniently covering her escapes into the north to the upper ring. She is met by her council, children as young as ten looking to her as a voice of reason. All she can provide is stolen bread.
The family next to their hiding spot is bitter, but Naomi allows their child to come with her the second he turns ten. The younger members of the resistance are happy to have a new friend, and the group runs off to the abandoned park, the only reminder that the upper ring is not perfect. With them out of the way, Naomi can bring her plan on the table (or, pine needles with a blanket on top).
It is risky, but all agree. They simply cannot go on like this, and decide to take positions the next day. Naomi meets her second-in-command’s eyes, when the time is right, and suddenly children flood the streets of the bourgeoisie. For a moment, they are glorious, and feast on yams and loaves of bread that they manage to take from street carts.
The next, the screaming of the rich fades as police are sent in. But the resistance is ready for that, too, and begins to race for the bridge. Right now, they are still bathed in glory, and some shout in support while others jeer. Naomi is last in the procession, but runs to catch up. Just as the bridge begins to rise, she makes the jump to safety. No rings will stop them now as they face the desert.

daily for 7/26, 306 words :)

setting by @equestrian5810: Surrounded by fields of rolling hills, there is a vibrant castle. Despite its isolation, the life goes beyond what is within the stone walls. The designer had taken advantage of the power of human hands, changing the course of the river to circle his masterpiece. Stained glass windows in almost every hall and stairwell face both the outside, and the courtyard in the middle. Along the edge of the courtyard is the stables in which horses are kept. While the courtyard is a nice place for taking a walk by or having a picnic under a tree, horses must be taken outside to ride. There is a back gate smaller and a bit less grand than the front gate that a rider can take their horse through. On the outside there are indoor and outdoor arenas for riders to train horses in dressage, jumping, and other disciplines.
Remix: It takes two centuries for war to reach the castle. Any traveler passing by would wonder at the ruins, clearly man-made by some disaster or another. Horses roam freely around the glade, long since having made the journey across the river. Glass occasionally falls out of its frames and crashes to the floor, eventually being ground into iridescent sand. Moss and ivy shroud the courtyard from the outside world, but there is little left. Any iron horseshoes or furniture have been pillaged by raiders, and only one tree is left: a bonsai tree, not pruned in years but still carrying regality. Inside the castle, cobwebs cover every corner and carpets are torn up by wild creatures from the northern forests. One stone tower has caved in, crushing an old piano that has long since gone out of tune. Outside is no better. The sand pits where soldiers once trained are now ever-muddy puddles. Once a queen had loved her garden, but without her tender care it’s overgrown. However, the river runs clearer than ever before, and its previous disruption of wildlife has had time to heal itself. Fish flood the banks every spring, and bears from the woods feast like new kings. Wildflowers grow in the cracks of the castle, and each mild snow is left pristine instead of marred by footfalls and horses. Then one day, a lone traveler comes in through the hillside and through the rusted gates. He has a horse with him, but neither seem in good condition. They don’t stay there, though the pile of ash they leave is new. Even when exhausted, the traveler has swept the piles of cinder and glass to the corners, where the spiders will one day know it as home, and the sun will continue to shine on the corridor until the end of time.
My setting: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31668456/comments/#comments-191276889

weekly four (and final </3) 3,135 words

The hall is busy, people chattering about schedules and homework and the state of the world. It's Maria's freshman year, and she's excited to blend into the background for the next few months. There are still new people here, lots of them, but her friends shroud her from the rest and she is content in this corner of the school. Then Xavier appears from the crowd, walking her way. Her small smile disappears, and Maria prepares herself for whatever will happen next.
“Long time no see, Xavier.”
“We've seen each other every day, Mari.”
“Correction: long time you've been ignoring me.” (101)

Gods, it'd been months since the two had talked.
Spanish class had just let out. One more hour and they were free, except it was science class of all things. Maria was glaring ahead at her locker, putting away all her books. Turning, she almost shrieked when she saw Xavier grinning at her like the Cheshire cat. “Hello, Maria.”
She narrows her eyes. She has never trusted the guy completely, but conflict of interest appears to be a greater and greater problem. “Xavier, hi. Why are you here and not halfway across the school like you always are?”
“Look, run down to the Walgreen's with me? I'll even buy you ice crea-”
She scoffs, cutting him off. “I'm not going to watch your boys fist fight each other, and if I were, it wouldn't be behind a dumpster and it wouldn't be with you.”
He looks at her with contempt, but Maria is used to this. “Tough crowd today. Stop being a coward, we're almost highschoolers.”
“Not a coward, Xavier,” she spits out, grabbing the rest of her things. Pencil case, journal, and the back-up deck of cards. “Just not willing to screw over my reputation so close to graduation.”
“Oh please, reputation? You know how to pick locks, there's not goody-two-shoes left in that.” He's angry. An angry Xavier is almost as bad as a scheming one, but not quite, so Maria stays firm, sifting through the deck with one hand. What would truly surprise him?
“No. And if you'll excuse me, I need to get to class, and I happen to know that you'll be failed if you're late one more time, so hurry along, oh wise one.” With that, she slams the locker and races into 8th period just before the door shuts. A singular card is left behind, an ace of hearts. (307)
(ate breakfast for five min. of eating/drinking, fixed sabotage )

“Well, you looked particularly beautiful today,” he offers. Maria continues to stare, unimpressed. “And also I heard you'd lost a bit of that good-girl mantra,” Xavier rushes to add.
“Didn't change much, k'now. I have never forgotten a slight.”
Her friends are straining to hear their conversation, she can see them. They bring their voices to a whisper. “A little bit of spite could do you good, sweetheart. Plus I know you're itching to bring that reputation a little badder.”
“Don't call me that, and that's not a word. And how would you know that? I keep all my cards close to my chest, always have.”
He grins, once again Cheshire-like and unnerving. “Remember this?” he says, flicking a literal ace out of his sleeve. “You're been gambling, I've seen it. You wouldn't have dared five months ago. What changed, Maria?”
Her gaze hardens. “What changed is that little thing you call spite, I call resentment. Who knows, maybe I'll be as bitter and cold as you claim to be. Give me your preposition, and I'll see if it brings Arthur's friends-” she jerks her head over to a group of boys in the corner of the hall - “any closer to the grave. They'll pay, one way or another.”
Xavier sucks in a breath. “Fair enough.” Maria can't help but feel a little proud, managing to shock such a guy. (230, practiced drawing, fixed)

Maria had been walking through the hallway, once again feeling alienated from her friends. Every day she lied to them, and didn't feel an ounce of regret. She didn't go to the library to study, she wandered the corridors and scavenged them for all they were worth. Today the fashion classroom was unlocked, and the teacher was gone. Perfect; they always had the coolest little knick-knacks for her to take. Last time she'd gotten an button, and now-
Why. Maria could hear sniffling coming from the classroom one door over. Chances were they were older than her; everyone was. Still, she has to make sure they're okay.
She shuffles awkwardly over to the door, feeling like Anna in Frozen. “Uh, you alright in there?”
More sobbing. “Erm. The door is locked, but if you'd like to open it?” The door handle jerks. She takes that as a yes, and lets herself in. It's a nine-year-old. Maria can already think of a thousand things that could have happened, and only hopes it wasn't too bad.
“The- there were tall boys who called me names.” The kid wipes their eyes. “One had a green gap on?”
With every passing day, Maria finds more reasons to hate the popular kids. What's the point of picking on the runts of the litter? “Whatever they said was- it wasn't true, okay? Here's a tissue. Maybe we'll hang here for a bit, then I'll get you to your class, hm?” (244, prompt by @Laureldrop, “you're crying, then someone next door peers through the window.” fixed)
“So what brings you here, my dear? Was it beauty that got you bewitched or was it something else you wished?” she says casually. He nervously laughs, but doesn't answer.
“Tell me, oh dear prince, who did you set out to convince? Me of excusing all your treachery or you that I'll be your complementary? Why're you still in my sight, unless, of course, you'll speak and rid yourself of that fright.” (72, fixed)
-
The first time Chloe shows her the Veil, Maria is terrified. It was without warning: one second they were playing cards at a table, the next she was in a maze of dead trees. At least, that's what she assumed this was. The trees still had leaves with foliage thick enough to hinder her sight, but if the sky is pink and tinged with wildfire, Maria can't be sure if she's dreaming or not.
The crash took out her knees, and she might be bleeding on all the thorns she's sitting on. Gingerly, Maria stands up. Yep, she can't use her right leg today. She grits her teeth and reaches over for a knife from her bag, which helpfully teleported with her. With it, she manages to hack out a relatively smooth branch from the maze. Walking hurts, but it's manageable and that's enough.
The sky is frighteningly quick to fade into navy, even when no sun or moon or even stars are to be seen. Maria can hear something, sees a flicker of fabric around the bend. Forgetting the pain, she hobbles quickly forward, still not catching voices. She's quite like Alice in Wonderland, she thinks. Perhaps that's a rabbit in a waistcoat-
Evie is staring emotionlessly at her, bookshelves lining the background. (204. list: winning , learning merry-go-round of life, getting a 100% on all but one of summer school quizzes, the junior writing comp win in my first session. failed)

“So, are you ready?” she asks expectantly.
Maria winces, not only from the phantom pain - is it really gone so quickly? “There's no way I'll be able to win over the independents. Each wants a different thing, and Olivia will only cede five minutes-”
Evie sighs, cutting her off. “Maria, you just survived five minutes in literal h-e double hockey sticks. Weren't you the one to tell us that in quick speeches, emotional appeal is more important than actual rhetoric?”
She blinks. “Yeah, but-”
“Shut!” Evie interrupts. “You're going to show up there under threat of losing this stupid journal.” She dangles Maria’s book, filled with sketches of plants and dreamscapes. “You will turn them against Olivia, make them take you seriously, and then you will give more funding to the fine-arts brats, okay?”
Maria, still disoriented, can do nothing but agree. “One question. Do you think band or orchestra is better?” she offers, trying to regain her senses. Chloe just leaves at that. Okay, deep breaths. She can do this.
Tip number one for public speaking: get your audience’s attention. A couple of wise cracks towards Olivia, not the most popular in the student council, does the trick. Maria steels herself, and waltzes - literally, she wore a dress for the occasion - to the podium. Her fellow politicians-in-training are arranged on the steps of the arts center, fitting for her point. “Ladies, gents, in-between and elsewhere, I begin my motion on the expansion of the fine-arts donations budget,” she drones.
“A lot of you are bored, so let’s cut to the chase. Your plays, the cafe, the music inbetween your passing periods and the very stage we sit on are all because of the fine-arts clubs, lobbying the school board for better areas. Some of you participated, others don’t want to be here. Regardless…”
Yeah, she knows what she’s doing. (310, failed)

It's sophomore year, and the three meet again. Maria is properly scary now, her reputation cemented in the fact that she says every word biting. Evie has opted to stay in the shadows, only keeping alliances momentarily. She's always been a transactional type of person, anyways. And Xavier? He's slipped into those older than them, and he managed to become protégé of a now-graduated student. He builds his empire day by day, branching off from his old crew. Olivia still hates the whole lot, but Adelina has promised them protection, so it's probably fine.
One revenge complete, their sophomore year will be focused on consolidating power for their suddenly strengthened group. A three-way shaking of hands / seals the deal, and the meeting is officially over.
Ha. They stay there, joking and playing and enjoying the early-morning loneliness together. Xavier breaks out a deck of cards, and they start playing blackjack and a short round of garbage. Low-stakes, fun games. Evie wins most of the games, but Maria doesn't care (Xavier does). Next they prowl the library shelves (“It'll be fun!” exclaims Maria, who's dragging Xavier along while Evie scans books for funny last names.) (194, aristotle and dante…, fixed)

Xavier walks up behind her out of nowhere. “I think I figured it out.”
Maria jumps. Everyone always finds it funny when she does that, and he laughs. They’re on the rooftop of the school, except he’s not allowed to be there and she’s not doing her job. “Figured out what?” she manages, still recovering from the shock.
“Why we’re all so different. You’re an opportunist, which is why you adore the fall. I don’t wait around, so I don’t care about the seasons, and Evie just like to watch the world burn, so she can take the summer.”
Maria goes to the other side of the garden. She picks up a watering can and starts to reply. “Oh, but the winter’s as full of energy as fall bursts with potential- why are there hummingbirds here?”
“What?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious for once.
“Yeah, look,” she points to the southeast. “Over there, they’re by the hibiscus plants that everyone thought would die.”
“This deep into fall? You’re tripping, where- oh.”
She grins. “See, I told you fall was the best. At least there’s one good thing about the summers getting longer.” (192, thanked the people, fixed).

She sighs. “When you two approached me that summer, I thought it would end badly. But I’m here now, getting everything I wanted.” Maria extends her hand out to the ivy growing on a trellis. Slowly, it creeps further up, weaving in and out of the wooden crosses. She smiles softly at it. “My magic is growing, and most are none the wiser.”
The hummingbirds fly away when Xavier steps closer. Maria sadly watches them go, bittersweetly thinking that they’ll be back next fall. She continues, “I got a job that doesn’t care if I sometimes need a cane, and I get to live like this for a whole other year.”
“What’re you going to do after? Maria, you know you won’t be able to go back.”
She gets a determined look in her eye. “I’m already saving up for an apartment. CVS first, then a secretary of some sort while building a garden in an alleyway.”
“Functional, too?” he asks, rather pointlessly, as Maria gives him a look of ‘duh’. “Well, let me know when you stop dreaming of Eden and remember that Babylon is dead.” With that, he turns and struts - the audacity - back downstairs. Ivy replaces him, staring after him.
“What’s up with him?” she asks, pushing her hair out of her face.
Maria laughs humorlessly. “Pessimist, as always.” She drags a coat rack farther into the shade, her own little experiment. There are aprons there, for the freshmen that forget, and also hanging pots which she grows from hardly germinated to geraniums. “I’ll make my own hanging garden one day.”
“Sure you will, sis.” Ivy gets to work, pulling on gloves and digging at the soil like it’s wronged her. “When are you going to tell the rest of the club that you could divert the landscaping funds to our treasury?”
The brunette grabs her cane and begins to walk down the steps to the greenhouse. She’s fashioned the brittlewood stick into something nicer since she learned how to get this thing under control, and it’s now comfortable in her callused hands. “When I learn how to keep grass even, Ivy!” (355, binnieb, failed)

Oh, this is probably the bad ending, she thinks. It’s the 26th of November, and the fateful day that would decide the trio’s futures. There was an obvious rift, she thinks, and she should’ve known Chloe would never stick to the plan.
Maria had almost stabbed Olivia. She will never try to deny it, not with dozens of witnesses. Her breaking point, her finest moment, came with her reflexes. Her bad knee was cooperating, and so millimeters away from Olivia’s neck, she bent down and rested the knife on the floor. The school police officer had been screaming, the cleaning ladies were confused and trying to talk her down, and the students were terrified.
She had slowly backed away. One step, two, four, until she was raising her hands in mock surrender. She had had to keep her audience captive, looking into each one of their eyes until she was certain they were on her.
It only took one flick of the eyes to Xavier, standing casually next to the fire alarm, for everything to fall apart. And then it took minutes for Evie, the arsonist next door over, to join her at the top of their burning world. November, still with hints of summer, burning hotter than July.
Except Evie’s divide and conquer strategy of gasoline is working too well. The building is collapsing beneath them, and Maria knows she won’t get down in time. She doesn’t want to join the rest of the dead, but the song she’s been singing doesn’t end well. “I knew we should’ve gone with New World Symphony,” she shouts over the chaos and that stupid alarm. With that, she lets the fire flicker at her arms and body. “It’s a cold and it’s a broken-” She belts out the final chorus (verse? she’s sung it so many times it’s all harmony now) to the sounds of screams. After that, the pain is too much to whisper the final Hallelujah.

-
Xavier’s not a patient man. He’s pacing the halls of the church, letting moonlight filter through the colored glass art. Now past midnight, he can’t help but internally complain about Evie’s lack of punctuality. Each pew is old, somehow covered by spiderwebs despite having been full just hours ago for evening mass. The floor feels like it’s fracturing infinitely before retreating into the shadows, which are getting longer and longer. Oh, but he knows what this is. Xavier isn’t a fool, and climbs the stairs to the bell tower.
Evie is waiting there for him, looking stunningly macabre. The moon makes her paler, somehow, and colder (just as dead as Maria in the grave, his mind supplies). She looks up when he walks in, and smiles. “Did you know they haven’t rung this bell in a hundred years? Last time they needed it was the war.”
“Not the time for games, Evelyn. What did you have to show me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Why’d you have to lose all your chill after the fire? Let’s relax a bit. I brought bread and butter.”
“The backbone of civilization,” he drawls. “Cut to the chase, witch.”
She pouts, as if testing him. Evie is a really annoying person without a neutralizing party, he’s begun to notice. Not as if he’s had much time, though; each have done their own thing the past five months. “I found this hidden lantern in the woods. There’s a really sad-looking fort there, too, and there are lots of people living there.”
Xavier recoils. “People-people, or vaguely humanoid-”
“People-people, at least mostly. Want a hit?” She offers a cigarette to him.
“What are the odds that you stole this from me?”
She only laughs. “Oh, Xavier, you’re funny. Anyways. I’ve managed to convince them that I’ll help them find a better place to settle, and use my magic to grant them a wish.” The word ‘magic’ is accompanied with a little twirl of the wrists, which twists the bell ever-so slightly off its secure spot.
He takes a sip of lemonade, which he brought. “In exchange for?”
Evie’s answer is so nonchalant that he almost doesn’t take it for what it is. “I’ll rob them of their weaker magic and use some of Adelina’s texts to bring Maria back to life.” She takes Xavier’s cup before he can take another drink, and turns it to wine, chugging the whole thing in one go. “I’m going to assume you’re doubting me, so I’ll just say this. I obviously would prefer her dead, but this alliance is stronger with three and I need her plant thingy to grow my empire, so.”
Xavier finds his voice again. He could comment on the impossibility of everything mentioned in the past three minutes, or he could make quips. “What empire? A convenience store you once robbed?”
“Nay, my friend. The forest next to the highway, just a few minutes away. It’s where I’ve moved her ashes, actually. Necromancy is easier that way.”

PATHS TAKEN: 2-2, 5-1, 3-1, 1-1, 4-3, 101-1, 7-2, 6-2, 82-2, 9-4 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 3- S;4- F, 6- S;1- S;2- F, 7- S;9- F, 8- S;5- S | ENDING: neutral
will include link to photo in edit

https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/718240772/

Hydra boy - Writing comp entry - 826 words
The boy’s eyes went dim with fear, sending cold, hard shivers down his back. He looked up at his dad.
His dad who intended to kill him.
The boy clutched his pants, bringing his shoulders forward, fear clamping him down. His dad looked down at him and purred, like a cat, in his old raspy and gravely way, making every move the boy made seem to creak.
“Sam… it’s okay,” his father rasped, drawing his hand to Sam’s cheek. The boy, Sam, flinched at his father’s touch, but stayed still. He looked back at his dad, and then to the limp head at his side, Griffin. Who was bloodily still, and dead.
“Actually no, it really isn’t,” his father chuckled, drawing Sam closer, but the boy jumped back, squeaking like a mouse. His father spat and began chuckling.
“You don’t have to run. Because I’ve already caught you. I’ve already caught the monster in my house, I’ve already caught the boy who killed my son,” Sam was sure his dad was talking about Griffin. He looked away and whispered,
“I… I didn’t want to, he… he just… died,” Sam squeaked again, but this time his father grabbed him by the shirt collar and snapped,
“You were the one to kill him, didn’t you? You killed my son, my only son.”
“I’m your son too.”
Sam instantly regretted saying those words.
His dad moaned, eyes deep with grief. A deep grief. Of burning pain, and anger. his father let out the deep animal inside him. Shrilling with bone chilling sounds, his father seemed to… change. Springing out of his sides were huge, ugly, lithe arms. Three on each side. Sprouting gross, huge, round eyes. Each goopy and sloppy.
“Oh, boy. You never were. You were never special, not loved, nor cared about.”
And that hit Sam.
More than it should’ve.
He drew a gasp, clutching his pants. He cried. He cried until he couldn’t breathe.
Of course, Sam’s father really didn’t feel like a crying party. He yanked Sam closer, making the horrified boy stare into his eyes. His father examined him and let out another cocky groan.
“… look at the murderer. Look at the… world’s glorious new savior… you know, I always find it strange, how the world loves the sinners… but nothing of the saints… oh well. Not like we deserve anything.” His father rasped, slowly lifting Sam up higher, though he paid no attention to Sam, but the limp head. The head of Sam’s brother, Griffin. The two brothers had once been best friends, knowing not a moment without each other.
“Why… why… Why do you hate me..? What did Griffin have that I don’t?” He squeaked, before getting flung to the ground. He let out a small squeal when his father wrapped his arms around Sam. Just to do it again.
“Don’t speak like that. Boy, you were nothing. You never were to me. You were
the pitiful abyss of this world. You were a burden, and you- you killed my son because you lived. Boy… Griffin had everything that you didn’t have. You don’t have anything special. You’re just a child. A naughty child who needs to be punished… correctly.” His father purred, walking closer to Sam. It was silent. Other than the quiet muffled shuffling of his father’s feet. Sam backed himself away, hands out in front of him.
“Please, please- please! Don’t- please, don’t… kill me.” He stuttered, looking back to see he was really stuffing himself between a tree, and his dad. His father didn’t listen, though. He seemed to /really/ want to kill Sam. Then, Sam did something he’d regret for the rest of his life.
He chucked it.
He chucked a sprinkle of… he didn’t know what. Salt, perhaps..? At the monster in front of him, and then he closed his eyes. Tight. Until he heard a shrill. And he opened his eyes again. He regretted that too. He saw the rotting pieces of the monster disappear. He heard the shriek that begged Sam to stop. That’s what made Sam close his eyes tighter and plug his ears, but he still heard it.
“BOY- BOY… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!” That was all Sam could hear. When he managed to peek, he saw his father’s head and chest still on the ground. Without arms or legs, and that scared Sam. He looked into the lifeless, dull eyes, fear clamping him closer, and he saw. He saw things he hated. Blood was pooling out of the monster’s torso, it was shriveled up towards the end, and his head was limp, just like Griffin’s.
“Good job, amazing! Outstanding, ten out of ten.” Sam gasped at this, going stiff with fear. He looked around, who had seen him… do… the thing? He looked around, eyes darting here and there.
And then they landed at a very. Very. dead Griffin.
Or at least, he should have been.
“W-what the heck?! W-who are you?!” He squeaked, fear shining brightly in his voice. He didn’t think that Griffin would do anything, but he responded,
“Oh, brother. You should know that. I’m Griffin. Your very, very, /very/ dead brother.”

vita et mors

thank you so much to @lyricalb, @Cherrie_Tree, and @Violet– for critiquing and reading over my entry! and thank you to @mossflower29 for attempting to critique but failing.

Nusquam

Shadows weave unremittingly. Wisps of ebony-coloured clouds linger, hovering.
In a cloak unfolding stands a black-hooded figure wielding a scythe. The hood is turned - drooping, almost - towards the right.
With a pale glow another figure drifts, veiled by the slightly, lighter grey sheet of clothing with a shimmering, silver lining. His fingers are warped around a small, glowing orb.
The figure faces the other.
“What is it this time, Life?”
The black-hooded figure turns his hood around, his slim hands wrapped around the scythe with an unsettling grasp.
“You know you’re not supposed to be here.”
“I… know,” the pale-hooded figure replies. “But I have a Life to offer.” He raises it higher and speaks in a slow, monotonous whisper. “Steven Miper, aged 47, a grocery cashier, father of two.”
The black-hooded figure peers at the orb, but yet is unmoved.

Somewhere

The bumpy road is littered with cars swerving restlessly, puffing out grey gas and producing a pungent smell of exhaust fumes. A few cars are manoeuvring through the reckless cars to avoid the chaos.
Driving one of those cars is a middle-aged man with strands of silvery hair and square-rimmed glasses with thick lenses perched tightly on his nose bridge. His fingers are tapping on the wheel to the rhythm of the song played through the static of the radio.
For a moment, he glances towards his right.
Perhaps he’s trying to look through the rear window, or to glance at the car beside him.
Whatever he is trying to do, it won’t clear him of his inevitable fate.
The blood-red car draws near in slow motion. The road seems to shrink under the car’s domineering tyres.
Unfortunately, the man doesn’t see the car coming.
First, there’s a bang as the two vehicles collide. The red car skirts and swerves onto its side, while the man’s car doubles back from the forces.
Then, a fire sputters and erupts between the onslaught as a hoard of witnesses crowd in around the destruction.
Ambulance sirens and firetruck services engulf the area as paramedics pore out of their respective vehicles.
As for the man, the world has long gone black.

Nusquam

The black-hooded raises an arm, and reaches for the orb with his slender fingers. His hand barely comes in contact with the glow before Life instinctively withdraws the glimmering spherule hastily.
“Death! You know what happens when you touch this!” Life says, almost in horror.
“Ah… yes. I’ve forgotten,” Death replies, an apology resting on his words.
He crouches, clutching his scythe near. His hood is illuminated by the pearly glow of the orb. “And… what has happened, this time?”
Life surveys the orb, his lissom fingertips stroking the sleek surface of the sphere with immense concentration.
“It appears that Steven, aged 47, is in the hospital…” Life begins, lowering his veil. “Due to a car accident that occured on the main highway in Eastern Creek.”
“Is his time near?” Death asks.
The clouds penetrate his translucent figure where he stands, gripping his scythe, waiting for the answer that will ultimately define Steven’s fate.
“I’m… not sure,” Life says finally.

Somewhere

“It was a near-death experience.”
Nurses are bustling in from every corner, wearing latex gloves and white coats while occasionally rearranging the IV fluids and checking the heart rate monitor. They talk in hushed voices and murmuring sighs.
“We are hopeful that Steven will survive,” A nurse consoles a woman of about Steven’s age. She continues to pat the woman’s shoulder, speaking in words coated with a false promise. “There is nothing to worry about.”
“His time surely isn’t near yet?” The woman asks shakily, her face turning the starkly white that adorned the walls. “He still has hope to live… right?”
The nurse pauses for a moment as she stands, lifting her hand from the woman’s shoulder, who awaits for the reassurance she will never receive.
“Yes, yes he will.”

Nusquam

“Life.”
Death drifts in melodious circles, in which only the swift swirl of the robes can be heard. He lowers his scythe, and turns to the figure opposite.
“Why do you want to give him away?”
The faint figure of Life is still, holding the orb that will ultimately cost a Life, if not cared for.
“Do you actually want to give that Life away?”
Life appears unperturbed by the question, glancing closely at the moving figures in the globe. Miniature characters scuttle about the room, readjusting the picturesque paintings that hung on the walls and tending to the patients.
Life exhales, steaming out a wisp of smoke.
“No.”
“Then why—”
“I…”
Life lifts his pale hood, doubt weighing in on his thoughts.
Death sighs. “You know I really hate doing this.”

Somewhere

“Mary.”
The nurse shivers slightly as she grasps the edge of the hospital bed, the sudden touch of cold, sending chills down her spine. She turns her head towards the man who rests on the bed.
“Don’t give up hope.”
Mary’s face drains of the remaining colour left. Her lower lip trembles as she tries to open her mouth. She clutches the bedside railing in a trance.
“Your husband will still be alright.”
Mary opens her mouth to speak, but hastily closes it after a second thought. She doesn’t stop holding the bedside railing, though - she tightens her grip, her knuckles turning a ghostly white.
After a moment of thought, the nurse straightens up.
“I’ll leave you here to watch over your husband. Make sure to contact a nurse or a doctor if anything happens.”
“I…”
Mary raises her head. She seems lost for words.
The nurse sighs.

Nusquam

“I just thought that his time was near,” Life explains wearily. “And you haven’t culled an orb for so long…”
“It hasn’t been that long,” Death says simply. “And every Life is precious, Life.”
“Then why do you take some Lives?”
Death hesitates. “For reasons I cannot tell you. Sometimes, it’s really their time.”
“Ah… yes,” Life replies.
“I hate slashing the orbs. You know that, Life,” Death continues, shifting an inch back. His hand shakes slightly while holding the scythe.
“Oh yes.”
Death sighs. “Are you sure about this?”
The clouds cut through the figures of Life and Death.
Life pauses for a moment. He thinks about what Death said. “No, I guess.”
He lowers his hood, which droops above the orb.
“Great,” Death replies. “Then I shall decline your offer.”
“But then… what do I do with the orb?”
Death points the scythe to the other side. “You leave.”
“I… see.”
The pale figure begins to drift away slowly, clutching the orb which shines ever so brightly. The pellucid clouds continue to float over Death. The black-hooded figure loiters, and releases his tight grip on his faded scythe.
“I hope I don’t have to take another Life,” Death murmurs.

The inky smog overcoats Death once more.

Somewhere

“Oh my gosh.”
“He’s regaining consciousness!”
“Hurry, send the doctor!”
The blinding, white lights blind Steven as he opens his eyes. Everything comes into clear focus - the glistening white walls, the IV fluid, his wife standing near him. His mind takes three seconds to process everything.
“Steven!”
Mary squeezes his hand, tears leaking out of her eyes. “Don’t say anything, okay? You’re going to make a full recovery.”
Steven nods, dazed.
“I’m… going to fetch the nurse, okay? You wait here until I go find her…” Mary hurries off, leaving Steven alone, lying in his bed.
Steven exhales, closing his eyes in peace. He listens to the rumble of cars driving in the highway, the chirping of the birds, the nurses walking around and talking in hushed voices.

He silently thanks Death for sparing his Life.

Author's Note
Just to confirm any confusion:
“nusquam” is nowhere, in Latin. It's basically where Life and Death communicate. We don't know where, and just… nowhere.
The two sections are basically happening at the same time. What Life and Death are saying and doing, it's dictating what is happening in “somewhere”.
I'm fully aware that Life and Death can be gender-neutral, but I put them both using male pronouns because they are often portrayed like that.
And yes, that's about it! I'm also aware it isn't necessarily medically accurate.
And everything that's happening is fiction - none of it is real, as far as I'm intending it.
That's about it! I hope you enjoyed reading!
Also, “vita et mors” is life and death in latin!

Cacklegordon, Crawfordbroom, and the Time Travel Machine
1997 words
Note - this is an excerpt because I ran out of words

“I’m going to get lunch.” Cacklegordon shut his laptop and pushed his chair back. “Want anything?”
Crawfordbroom shook her head. “I’m so close to figuring this out.”
Cacklegordon laughed. Crawfordbroom had been fiddling around with the same few bones for several hours. “Alright then!” He threw a bag over his shoulder and headed for the door of the shared office. As he put his hand on the doorknob, the door swung open.
Harilda stood in the doorway. They were a tall engineer who worked at the same science institute as the two paleontologists. “Good afternoon!” they said with a grin.
“Afternoon?” Crawfordbroom called from the desk. “I could’ve sworn I’d only been here for an hour.”
“It does feel like that sometimes, doesn’t it?” Harilda agreed. “But I wouldn’t have been able to finish this” — they pulled a metallic walkie talkie out of their pocket — “if it was only 10 am!”
Cacklegordon gasped. “Is that for the time machine?”
Harilda nodded quickly. “It’s finished!”
Crawfordbroom stood up and grabbed her backpack. She threw it over her back and then, barely a second after, she put it down on the chair and dug through it.
“Notebooks, pencils, camera, clay…” she muttered. She turned to Cacklegordon. “Is that everything?” she asked.
Cacklegordon furrowed his brow. “I think so. But we don’t need to leave right now, do we? I still need lunch!”
“Oh that’s it —we need food!” Crawfordbroom zipped up the backpack and put it on her back. “Well, let’s stop at the cafeteria and get plenty of food for the trip. Then we can get going!”
—
At the cafeteria, they filled a few tupperwares with various soups and salads. Cacklegordon grabbed a plate, but Crawfordbroom stopped him.
“We don’t have time for lunch now!” she said. “We have to get to the time travel machine to see the dinosaurs!”
Cacklegordon shook his head. He couldn’t see the rush, but he put back the plate. “Fine, let’s get going then.”
They put the containers into a grocery bag and rushed upstairs to Hiralda’s office.
—
The time machine was a giant metal box that almost reached the ceiling. The door was open, and the two paleontologists peered in.
It was dark at first, but Hiralda reached in and flipped a lightswitch. Crawfordbroom started adjusting the dials and Hirlada handed the walkie talkie to Cacklegordon, who shoved it into his pocket.
“And you’ve tested this?” Cacklegordon asked Hiralda.
Crawfordbroom raised her eyebrows at him. “Of course they have! Come on, we’ve got no time to waste.”
She shut the door before Hiralda could say anything. They sat down in chairs that resembled those you’d see at an amusement park.
“Okay, so,” Cacklegordon said, looking around, but before he could finish, Crawfordbroom hit a large red button between the two seats.
They were plunged into pitch black before colored spots popped up and disappeared in their vision. When the lights came back on, their hair was frazzled and standing up.
They sat there recovering from nausea for a few minutes before standing up. Cacklegordon stood up first. He took a few deep breaths and then opened the door.
A man wearing a tall blue hat with stars and flowing blue robes sat in a golden throne. Boiling cauldrons sat on either side of him, and in his lap he held a crystal ball. He stared into the it intently.
Cacklegordon stood just outside the time machine, hardly breathing. The man didn’t seem to have noticed him and he was sure that he would be upset when he noticed a giant metal box in his… what was this place? Cacklegordon looked up. Staircases wrapped around the edges of the room until they reached a stained glass dome. There were no rails and goosebumps popped up on Cacklegordon’s arms as he imagined climbing it.
Just then, the man threw his head back. He let out an unintelligible yelp that echoed around the room. As he leaned back in his throne, he squeezed his eyes shut. Cacklegordon edged backwards into the time machine. As he stepped inside, his foot hit the metal floor and clanged loudly.
The man looked up. “It did work!” he whispered just loudly enough that Cacklegordon could hear it. “It worked, it worked!”
Cacklegordon turned around and shut the door. Crawfordbroom was still sitting in her chair looking nauseous.
“What’s that?” she murmured slowly.
“We’re in some sort of tower, I think,” Cacklegordon said, “and there’s someone out there dressed like a wizard or something.”
Cacklegordon furrowed her eyebrows. “What about the dinosaurs?”
“I think the time machine malfunctioned — hold on, I’ll tell Harilda.” He pulled the walkie talkie out of his pocket and held down on the talk button. “Harilda? I think it malfunctioned. We’re in a tower… I think. And there’s a guy with a crystal ball.” He waited for a moment, but there was no response. “The walkie talkie must be broken too,” he said to Crawfordbroom.
“Let’s go see who the wizard guy is,” Crawfordbroom said. She pushed herself up out of her chair.
The wizard was still sitting in his throne when they opened the door, gazing into his crystal ball again. He looked up when the door scraped against the concrete floor.
“There you are!” he exclaimed. “I can’t wait to tell Professor Oliver. He’ll be surprised of course.” He leaned forward. “Back when I was in school, he always told me this was impossible! ‘All the spells have been discovered,’ he said. ‘It’s no use trying,’ he said. ‘Don’t waste your time,’ he said! But it wasn’t a waste of time! I’ll have to send him a letter… Let me find my quill and parchment.”
He looked in the pockets of his robe. “Not here… not here…” he said. He stood up and walked over to a desk. “I can imagine his response: ‘Oh Charlie, I never doubted you! Of course you were the one to discover a new spell,’ he’ll think when he reads my letter! He was never the type to admit when he was wrong. But now that I’ve invented a teleporation spell, he’ll have to!”
Cacklegordon and Crawfordbroom watched him as he sat down at the desk and began to write. They couldn’t quite tell if he was talking to them or to himself. When he stopped speaking, they turned to each other. Crawfordbroom pointed to the door and raised her eyebrows like she was asking a question. Cacklegordon nodded and they crept towards it.
But it only took a few seconds for the wizard — Charlie, had he said his name was? — to notice. “Oh, how rude of me!” he said, spinning around in his chair. “I’m Charlie, and you are?”
“Crawfordbroom,” Crawfordbroom said with a sigh.
“And Cacklegordon. We’re paleontologists,” added Cacklegordon.
“Ah, Crawfordbroom and Cacklegordon!” Charlie said. “How nice it is to meet you. You know, it’s quite a relief to see you! I’ve always worried that when I finally managed this spell, I’d accidentally bring a dragon or something to my tower!”
Cacklegordon nodded slowly and laughed. “That would be bad,” he agreed, “but I think our time machine just malfunctioned and brought us here.”
Charlie tilted his head. “No, no, it couldn’t be! My spell was so close to working last time I tried it, there’s no way it didn’t work. Although maybe…” He trailed off. “What if your machine was the last component needed for my spell to work! You wouldn’t mind leaving it here with me, would you?”
“We need it to get back!” Crawfordbroom said. She turned to Cacklegordon. “Come on, let’s just go.”
“Wait a moment,” Charlie said. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, and the door to the time machine closed. “I need to show my old professor that I am a capable wizard and prove him wrong! He always told me that there was no… did I already tell you this? Yes, I did, didn’t I? Well then, you see how important it is that I keep it. And you two seem to be from a different dimension, based off of the minerals it’s made of, is that correct?”
“Dimension?” Crawfordbroom said.
“Oh yes, you must be if you haven’t heard of dimensions before!” Charlie said. “So you’ll need my help to get back anyway.”
“How long do you need the time machine for?” Crawfordbroom asked. “Maybe you can use it for your spell, and then we can go back!”
“I suppose I’d need to keep it forever for my spell to keep working,” Charlie said after a pause. “So you two wouldn’t be able to to go home at all.”
Crawfordbroom turned to Cacklegordon. “Come on, we can figure out how to make it work on our own.” She pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Can’t we just go back temporarily?” Cacklegordon asked Charlie. “No one will know what happened to us!”
Charlie rested his head in his palm. “How about this? Professor Oliver told me that he’d give me his crystal ball if I ever made a teleporation spell, so if you deliver my letter and bring me back the crystal ball, you can go home permanently.”
Cacklegordon shrugged. “Fine. Where is the professor?”
Charlie led them to a door. “You see that school?” He pointed to a few towers made of blue bricks that stood just over the horizon. “You’ll find him on the third floor of the second tower. Now, I’ll just go finish my letter and you two can leave!” He walked back to his desk.
Cacklegordon and Crawfordbroom stayed by the door, since it seemed to be as far as they could get from him in the tower.
“Do you have a plan?” Crawfordbroom whispered.
“I figure we can just deliver the letter, bring back the crystal ball, and be done with it,” Cacklegordon said with a shrug. “What else could we do?”
“I can’t tell if he’s actually going to help us get back after that though,” Crawfordbroom pointed out. “What’s he getting out of letting us go home?”
Cacklegordon nodded. “It’s better than no plan though, right?”
They sat in silence while they waited for Charlie. He finally returned holding two rolled up pieces of parchment.
“Here you go!” he said with a grin. “Now, the academy is a bit far. You can take my magic carpet! I’ll go get it.”
He walked around the back of his throne and came back dragging a purple and magenta carpet behind him. “Its name is Matt,” he said. “You can just tell it what to do and it’ll work!”
Crawfordbroom and Cacklegordon laid it down outside the door and sat down with their legs crossed.
“Rise!” Crawfordbroom said. When nothing happened, she said, “Fly!” a bit louder.
Matt remained on the ground.
“Matt?” Cacklegordon said. Matt hovered a few inches off the ground, and Cacklegordon grinned. “Thank you! Can you take us to the academy?”
Matt rose up and then shot forward. The threads felt surprisingly sturdy, so Crawfordbroom leaned over the edge. They were flying over a huge lake. She suddenly felt nauseous and moved to be facing forward. She stared at the academy for the rest of the flight.
When they approached an archway, Matt lowered itself gently onto the ground in front of a row of four towers. Crawfordbroom rolled it up and the paleontologists walked into the second one.
Like Charlie’s tower, staircases without rails ran along the walls and Cacklegordon shivered.
“Maybe we can fly up to the third floor?” he suggested.
They spread out the carpet again and this time, Crawfordbroom said, “Matt, can you take us to the third floor?”
Matt flew up in circles and Crawfordbroom had to close her eyes to keep from getting dizzy. Finally, they landed on the third floor in what looked to be a classroom. A man with a long white beard and a pointy hat sat at a desk looking at a crystal ball.

Hi there! Here's the critique as you requested ! Instead of critique-ing every single line, I made a couple of edits and then wrote my opinion ^^

March 29, 2047 3:14 N.A.S.A Space Center
I drove into inside (of) (The word “of” is optional - The sentence can work with/without it) the space center parking lot, super excited. (maybe you can try writing something like “I drove inside (of) the space centre parking lot, my body filled with/of excitement,”
I haved always wanted to be an astronaut, ever since I was a litte child. whether the main character is a bit of girl, you can write "ever since I was a young ___ (gender)
I went into military as soon as I was the day after my 18th birthday, knowing that it might just would increase my chances to of being selected. I had to be better than the best of the best, so that when the time came for me to apply, I would be selected. Because Due of to all of my hard work, I was soon asked offered to join. (never start a sentence with the conjunctions “but,” “and”, as well as “because” .

Next came the 2 years it took to complete of non-stop training. I went through all sorts of tests, excersised exercised and stuck to a very strict diet.
Finally, during the next month, I and some other astronauts would begin on the our 9 month trip to mars. (in this sentence, it's okay to write “me and some other astronauts” or “some other astronauts and myself”)

May 31, 2047 9:07 N.A.S.A Space Center
Today was finally the day, I and my friends The day finally came, and a few friends (and I) would embark on our journey to Mars.
“Hey Soph.” Tom, one a of the fellow astronauts who would be going to mars with us, said. “Are you excited?”
"You know it, that I am quite worried. I've heard plenty of the stories of failed missions,“ I replied.
”Well, it'll be ok. There have already been space crafts sent to Mars before, and besides you'll always have me and the medic to take care of everything," Tom said assured, smiling sweetly.
Then the door opened, "Do not forget about me your Captain. I'm going to be the one going aroungd making sure that our ship does not eplode,“ Marie, our technician joked.
The word ”captain" sent a shiver down my spine,. That's right, Sophie. You're captain, you have to be strong for your team.
Ivan walked into the room. He was our lead scientist. He's actually Russian, but you can't tell, because he has lived here in the U.S. for so long.
“Hey Ivan, you ready?' I asked giving him a pat on the shoulder.
”Yep pretty much," He replied. There was not wasn't any a bunch of emotion in his voice, but I could tell he was hyped.

(I like the conversation between the character, Tom, Marie, and Ivan, but there are a lot of repeated words, such as “said” or “replied”. Instead, use synonyms like “stated, answered, etc.”

May 31, 2047 11:55 Spaceport
"Captain, are you ready?“ The dispatcher asked.
”Yes sir we are ready for dispatch.“
”10, 9, 8, 7, 6, In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. blastoff!"
I stayed laying down, calmly waiting for us to break out of the earths atmosphere. uUntill then, the ride would be bumpy.
I and mMy peers and I had trained for this. Now the moment of truth; whether the rocket would blow up during one of the stages.
And fFinally, weightlessness was reached, and it was safe to say that we had survived. I almost yelped for in joy.
Sophie remember this is nothing, do not be so quick to celebrate.
I took off my harness, and saw that my friends had done the same.
I floated around the space ship in my blue overalls, smiling to myself.
I went to communications room to message the scientists on earth telling them we had landed.

June 25, 2047 5:38 Space Ship
A lot had happened over the past days. We had multiple appliances breaks. Which is weird, because most of the stuff we never used.
It definetly definitely kept Marie busy, though.
Ivan spent most of his time in the telescope room.
Tom and I were the only oones with nothing to do. I soon found myself enjoying being with him a lot.
After a while, I decided to start helping mMarie around the ship.
i I floated into the shower, where I last saw Marie, and I came arrived at the perfectly time in to see her floating around, unconscious. There was a green ooze all around her.
I franticaly called Tom, and he came rigtht away. Ivan got a sample of the ooze in a bottle, and soon the shower was off limits.
I walked into the medicas lab, where Tom had some bad news for me.
“Soph, Marie is in a coma.”

writing contest entry speedrun

There had been a large forest that occupied most of the space next to the road. Next to the cracked pavement sat a quaint little house. Its bright red roof covered the second storey of the house, while white, painted walls enclosed the area.

On the upper floor, one window was left ajar. The sun filtered through the nearby trees and beamed down upon a young girl, playing eagerly with a couple plushies. She tapped them together, giggling as she voiced them.

“Wow! I hate you, elephant! You took my cookie!”

In turn, the elephant responded. “I hate you too, giraffe! You stole my blanket!”

Aderyn was easily distracted by a familiar chirp. A blue jay, head tilted, had landed on her exposed windowsill. She smiled brightly at the bird, easily reaching an open hand toward the bird.

“Good morning, Ceru!” She stroked their blue feathers gently, grinning. The bird chirped again, hopping forward and dropping a pebble onto her hand. She beamed at the bird, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the pebble.

She walked slowly to a corner of the room, dropping the pebble into her collection of gifts from the blue jay. At this point, it was common that the bird would land on her windowsill, so she always insisted it stayed open.

She turned again, waving towards the bird as it hopped backwards, chirped at her, and took off. It always charmed her, especially since she was sure that the bird didn't bring anyone else gifts. She was pretty sure her friends envied her, but she didn't mind. At times, she felt like a princess-hero with her animal sidekick.

Aderyn smiled idly to herself, returning to her plushies. The bird that had become a common presence in her life reassured her, providing a sense of constant assurance.



She stared numbly at the ground. “We can't leave the window open, you fool! Someone will walk in and kidnap her, or take our stuff!” She winced. Yeah maybe, but what about Ceru? She thought bitterly. Her parents, of course, knew nothing of the little blue bird that visited her nearly daily.

“This argument is useless. Ada, go close your window. And keep it that way.” Her mom turned her scathing gaze towards the child, who faltered.

“Samantha.” Her father held her arm angrily. “There's nothing wrong with keeping a window open. The fresh air is good for her!” Her mother whirled towards him again. “The fresh air is good for her? Well the open window increases the chance of someone snatching something from our house, or worse, her, without us knowing!”

Aderyn wished she didn't have to make a choice, but she hated to hear her parents arguing about her. “Okay, okay, it's fine! I'll close my window!” She huffed out loudly, turning away. If there were tears in her eyes as she stomped up the stairs, no one needed to know, right?

Hesitantly, she poked her head out of the window, looking for Ceru. She had to tell them – she didn't want to just shut them off with no reason. She sighed, gingerly bringing her head back in after no sign of her feathered friend. Her hands shook terribly as she shut the window, and she threw herself onto the bed. It felt as if she'd just done something horrifying.

Ada threw her blanket over herself and curled into a ball. No use dwelling, right? She laughed sadly as she shoved her face into her pillow and fell asleep.

Not too long later, she awoke to an irritatingly loud tapping noise. With a groan, she rolled out of bed and went to go find the source. Oddly enough, she noticed it was coming from the window. She rubbed at her tired eyes, trying to peer beyond the glass and spotted the vague form of a bird.

“Ceru?” She mumbled, instinctively striding over and opening the window – well, trying. She blinked in surprise. The window was taped shut. “What?” Ada stared in disbelief at the silver tape that kept the window closed. Since when had that been there?

She frowned, a moment of realization as she winced again at her mother's words. What a stupid excuse to close the window. She huffed annoyedly, tugging harshly at the tape. Even after a couple minutes of working at it, only a bit of it came off. She crossed her arms angrily, at no one in particular. Was this a house or a prison? Who tapes a window shut anyways?

Half an hour later and she'd made considerably more progress. The 3 lengths of tape, haphazardly stuck onto the window, were nearly off. Although the tapping had stopped, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered whether Ceru had given up. She shook herself from her thoughts. Not the time, Ada.

With a final grunt of effort, the tape was off. She threw open the window and peeked out. All she was met with was a flurry of feathers, scrambling to get away.

“Wait! Ceru!” She called out, resisting the urge to throw herself out of the window after the bird.

And the blue bird never appeared again.

—————-

Although the city is beautiful, Aderyn can’t help herself from feeling frustrated and tired. The exciting excursion out of her apartment and away from her university work is no more. The text from Thalia is apologetic, but Ada feels the irritation creeping into her mind. She taps out a quick reassurance anyways and stands up.

Her roommate is supposed to be picking her up in the afternoon, and she’d hate to disrupt his plans by asking him to give her a lift now. In addition, her irresponsibility has finally caught up to her; the card she uses for the bus is still in her dorm and she, unfortunately, is on the other side of the city.

Aderyn looks around for anything to kill time. The buildings that surround her are pretty, but are definitely not places she wants to hang out for the day. Oh, joy, a museum about the history of bricks. How fun!!! Oh my, the bank! Her search for an activity drags on and on. After thirty minutes, she finds her saving grace; an art gallery that opened only a few days ago. Aderyn wouldn’t say she’s crazy about art or that she has the money to buy anything, but she can definitely appreciate the air conditioning for a few hours.

The building is almost entirely empty when Aderyn walks in. The girl at the door hands her a brochure and Ada smiles at her. Do they have wifi here? She hopes so. Aderyn figures that a quick peek at the art won’t hurt since she has hours to spare. The art is interesting enough, of course; there are abstract shapes, flowers, fruit, the usual, but as she turns the corner, her eye catches a flash of blue and grey.

The art is astounding, to say the least. There’s an eerie feeling of loss that she can’t quite place, but the collection of slate grey rocks, soft violet flowers, pearly bones and scratched buttons speak to her. Her focus on the piece means she doesn’t notice when someone walks up to her.

“Hey,” the person says; Ada whirls around, almost like she’s been caught doing something wrong. The stranger laughs. “Sorry- sorry. I just saw you were looking at that piece there. It’s one of my personal favourites,” he explains. Ada can feel her face flush with embarrassment.
“Um, yeah. It’s really… cool. There’s something about it- I’m sorry, I must sound a bit crazy.”

“My name is Julian,” he says, still smiling at her. “That’s one of my latest pieces, so I’m glad you like it. It was really experimental, if I’m being honest, so I’d love to hear your thoughts on it? Do you have some time?”

“Oh!” Ada gasps, looking between the artist and the art. His name is written on the sign next to the piece; Julian Whitman. “Well, I do have a few hours to spare, but I’m not sure I have really interesting thoughts,” she responds, still feeling a bit self-conscious. “I do have a few questions about, um, how you made it?” He nods and gestures towards the door.

“I could buy you a drink for your time - a coffee or something of the sort, and I’d be very happy to answer any questions. We could even alternate question-asking for fairness!” Julian proposes; Aderyn considers it for a minute before she accepts. There’s no harm in it, especially since they’ll be in the area.

They step out of the gallery and Julian directs her to a cute cafe across the street. It’s hot outside, so he buys two smoothies for them to drink while they sit down at a table.

“So, first question! Why that piece in particular?” He asks before taking a sip of his brightly coloured drink.

“Well,” Ada mumbles, “it just caught my eye. You know, the blue rocks and the white - something about it just seems so… connected? I’m not sure how to describe it - although they’re just random stuff, it’s like they’re meant to be together. Now my question! What inspired you to use those objects in your work?” Julian grins.

“I wish I had a better answer, but it was just objects I found lying around my home when I was cleaning up. My friend sometimes brings over junk, and it was interesting enough to incorporate into the piece. I’m glad you found it alluring.” Aderyn’s mind inadvertently jumps to her childhood and the bird that had been her best friend.

“Why does your friend give you junk?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, it’s still my turn to ask you a question!” Julian exclaims in mock anger. “Do you like birds?”

“Well… Yeah. I did.“ She trailed off, staring into space for a brief moment. ”Why does your friend give you junk?“ She asked again. He shrugged. ”I've got no clue. I've never asked either, so maybe that's why." Aderyn is disappointed in the answer, but keeps a slight smile on her face.

The conversation lasted longer than Aderyn had expected. At the end they'd exchanged phone numbers, and eventually began to hang out more and more. She felt some odd attachment to the man she'd met in an art gallery, of all places, but his recent pieces drew her in like never before.

ranting about stranger things B))

Okay, first off while I was watching the show I would ship mike and will and then not ship them etc. I now completely ship them and will forever ship them unless mike like seriously betrays will. I'll stand by will for legit ever because the poor boy needs a hug and therapy and he's literally so sweet alskdhfl. Also is it just me or is his haircut not actually that bad bro like it doesn't look half bad at all it looks fine to me. I honestly like his hair more than I like mikes lmao-

Also, the scene when mike says they should be best friends again BRO oh my gosh. Like bro, will had been waiting for that moment his entire freaking life. He was just like sure friends yeah (I'm kidding sorta.) Will definitely deserves someone though like even if it's not mike especially since mike has a lot of making it up to will to do. Bro like I was legit crying to hard when will started crying after telling mike that el would always need him like BRO- Also I know a lot of people say that mike isn't gay, but bro that definitely changed when he was talking with will about being besties again. Like bro he was definitely looking if ya know what I mean.

Bro and like when will is staring at him and mike looks up to look at will and then realizes will was already staring at him bro- The homies don't look at each other like that :sob: Also unrelated but sassy will is the best tho. I totally ship byler right now and also when they were looking at each other on the thing oh my freaking gosh bro- I know it probably won't happen especially since they've been building up mike and el's relationship with each other this long, but come on I prefer mike and el as friends. Let a girl dream could ya?

Okay but also like can we talk about robin oh my gosh. I love her so much bro. She's actually so fine and like actually so freakin funny. If I don't find someone like robin then I'm done. Like can we talk about her coming out scene? Like people are talking about how disappointed and sad steve must have been that robin didn't like him back and like sure it must have sucked but that's not what the scene was about. Imagine how freaking scary it would be to come out back then like she must have been so freakin scared to tell steve that she was lesbian like bro- I saw someone say that steve wasn't even that supportive, but like bro yes he was. Especially back in the 90's when being gay was freakin illegal like be the fact that he was still friends with her and just made her laugh like bro we love him for that.

ranting about the owl house:

time to rant about random ships! Okay so first of course is lumity. I adore lumity so so much and I think that heir so freaking cute and I love absolutely everything about them. I love the enemies-to-lovers trope especially since it reminds me of catradora. I love how much effort amity puts into their relationship like she even started learning Spanish while the freaking world was on the verge of possibly ending. Like there amity was learning Spanish for her girlfriend, like bro I don't even think I'd do that without the whole world ending (I mean maybe if I could have luz as my girlfriend but shh-) I know Luz doesn't put as much effort into their relationship, but that doesn't mean she loves amity any less and also like she's dealing with a freaking lot so like I'm surprised she can put a much effort into things as she even did.

My favorite ship actually isn't lumity it's raeda I love, but eda and raine and they are so freaking perfect for each other bro like that episode (thems the breaks kid or something like that) might have actually been my favorite episode of the whole entire series like bro. I loved seeing Raine and Eda as kids and how they met and safhld bro that dance. Also, can we talk about raine though like their actually so fine (and so I eda bro like what.) I love them both so much and if they don't get married or at least confess their never-ending love for each other in the last three 44-minute episodes (why disney) then I'm so done with life.

Also huntlow bro I know a lot of people don't ship them, (and a lot of people do too) but I honestly think they'd be really cute together (I also ship hunter and edric, but I feel like that's not gonna happen lmao) Like the fact that willow made him realize how much fun he could have hanging out with other witches his age and that he didn't have to just serve belos his whole like bro like all my freaking gosh how- Also I so ship matt and gus. Like I didn't really ship them that much ,(I mean I shipped them a little bit especially since gus has no one to be shipped with lmao) but then I saw this edit and wow, I mean that like actually changed everything. Also, can we talk about the bestie big bother vibes hunter gives towards gus wow man. Also, luz and hunter give off such sibling vibes, like if eda doesn't adopt him and get him into some therapy as well I swear to god.

ranting about amphibia:

First of all I'm so freaking sad that it's over bro, but I will say that I'm satisfied with how it ended. The only thing that I'm unhappy about is the fat that people think the owl house will end the same way and bro just no. Im fine with the main characters all leaving behind some frogs, I mean yeah it was sad, but there is no freakin way that luz is leaving her freaking girlfriend behind and like eda and everyone else bro nO. What if Luz can just take her mom to the demon realm and they can just all live there together huh? Eda and her mom can help take care of hunter and luz and king and everything will be perfect.

Anyways since I'm supposed to be ranting about amphibia can we pLeAsE talk about sasha bro like what. I absolutely love her bro ahhh (also shes bi what yesss) When I saw the sticker on her mirror bro what- oh my gosh please I love that for her. Also the glow up over the seasons whattt. I mean she looked good in the ponytail in the first season and then when she let her hair and then BRO when she's an adult don't even get me started she's so pretty oh my godsss.

Also marcy looks good too (I accidentally typed marxy that would be a cute username lol.) I do think she's missing the shine she had when she was younger though. I was someone edit her as an adult with the shine on tik0k and it's perfect what- I love that the three of them are still friends even if they sort of grew apart. Also anne ahh I love what she's doing with her life now and like I wonder if she's gonna do that thing when she's like 80 whatever it was called lol.

ranting about she-ra:

Okay so first of all I am somewhat disappointed that we didn't get another series or a movie or something, but at least we got a solid ending ya know? Anywayas here my opinion on catradora because yes: Okay so first of all a lot of people say that the ship is toxic because of everything adora did to catra and vice versa and them trying to kill each other all the time, but honestly that wasn't their fault lmao. I mean come on the horde messed them up and Catra just so confused and the fact that she's being so much better to adora now and that they've realized how much they needed and loved each other come on.

Also gliimer and bow ahhh I can't remember their ship name right now lol (is it like glimbow or something?) but ahh their so sweet bro oh my freaking gosh I love them. Also the fact that she-ra includes both straight and gay characters and normalized both of them is so precious to me.

Cabin Wars #2 Post

War 1 - From Wari (2 chars extra challenge) - 1010 words :)

“You like dogs?” It started as a simple question that deepended our friendship.

I took her hand in mine and nodded. “Of course I like dogs, let’s skip!” OUr youthful voices traveled in a high pitched manor, making every silence bearable.

I smile as I watch her smile with me too. Playing on the slides is so fun, as you feel the rush of adrenaline going down your body just to get that rush of it.

That hang, that thrill that you get when you slide off the monkey bars. I swing back and forth, before jumping into the ladder that hung above me. I love the thrill– the sweet saccachine that came with these thrills, wanting more, more more. Because that’s all that mattered.

Me with you, You and me, us two. We exist together not in a vacuum but we stay and let our words communicate. Our words flow, because they don’t chop like thick bricks that break up sentences and once again, I want to feel that rush of friendship.

“Hey Maya,” she grinned. Us two, hanging perfectly as we softly kicked the gravel (against our will, I suppose.)

We can’t have too much fun though, time must alas end because the world if unforgiving, cruel to children. At last, our playful world will come to an end and we will not savor the same saccarhhine from the adrenaline.

I sweat intensely, as I watch you run away– you must be infuriated with things, right? I stare over at the corners of the bed and watch thaat blanket ripple and fold against the pillows, as a reminder of us playing together and pillow fighting.

I do miss you so much. Your voice enters my ear sometimes, and I guess I really long to hear that once again.

Because those nosiese aren’t just noises, they’re beauty. I’d love to hear you crack jokes with me once again.

I think I hear a knocking on the door, and yet I don’t reach it because I’m afraid– What happens if I open the door to disappointment?

I slide my hand on the doorknob and breathe. I can look you in the eye because I’m not afraid to break into tears.

And I do, as I take a breath and pop the door open.

“Hi Maya,” your soft voice paces against my ear, and i finally break into ugly tears, from the sight of you..

Sometimes I wish we could have stayed throughout childhood
Never growing up,
Always staying in our kingdom of molch
That we steadily built-up.
No one else but us
A small bond, enclosed and warm
Something that tugs at me,
The thought spinning in alarm.

Do wishes ever bother me like this?
I don’t know– maybe they do,
But I look at the person at the doorknob
To not find the same Kalya I once flew,

Over the grass by the morning dew,
Does anything go away as i miss you,
I don’t know, I don’t know,
And I can only write on our dotted pages as our page must come to an end, through and through.

Sometimes hoping isn’t a bad thing. And you are proof of that, and I look at you in a stunning admiration, because that’s how much you meant to me as a friend.

I don’t want to hold you but feel a sensation eeper- a connection that stretches beyond oceans, carving the seas.

I want the world to be our legacy, as we travel together as friends.

-

Dear Maya, I’m sorry I’m not the same Kalya you knew and grow to know.

I’m sorry we had to separate from our daycare, spread apart like two sets of a dollhouse shipped and packaged somewhere else.

And I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you– to laugh with you, to cry for you. SOmetimes the pain of missing you hurts so much, because friendships. No one talks about them, but they hurt. Missing people like you hurt– those who stood by my side.

The playground erupts in a loud noise, as I am taken away from you, forcibly. The loud whispers surround me– they spit and zoom in on me, and then attack me.

There is no way to escape those words, no way there was any. A tone darker is a weight darker in their hearts. I do want to travel the seas with you, but rushing through the caphonious noise, I don’t understand how or why.

And how or why, I alas struggle to understand. TOo many things go in understanding— we try to understand how to understand each other while missing what to understand actually means.

And this is the knot that twists in my heart. But that’s not what happens, and I can’t be resentful, though every part of my body and muscle shakes and shivers in anger, when I think about the people who yelled at me at school.

Who shouted, who acted, who kept quiet. You screamed, but for me, and I usppose that’s why I remember you most of all.

I always love you as your long lost friend,

Kalya.

-

Tears well up in my eyes. Only a shout is what I remember– what I did not know was the shouting, the bullying she recieved behind the scenes, and with the notion that yes, I truly am useless, I weep.

She’s not the person at my door– it’s not even Kalya that I once knew. I don’t recognize you at all, you’re coated with makeup and dressed in high-heels. You do look gorgeous, despite what they said to you and that’s what you should remember.

“It’s been so long,” you grin, as I read your letter. “Look at you, emotional over me, just an old friend. How adorable.”

Her tone is always teasing like it always was, with a warm flavor mixed in, and I suppose that’s why I liked you so much. Always a shoulder to lean on– always a shoulder to cry on.

And I feel the warmth as I rest on your shoulder.

War 2 - From Daisy (no and/or/the) - 1014 words (this was agony)


So, Tides of Yue. This began as a school writing competition entry that I did not finish, because I did not have motivation to power through writing every word. It was a long process– I wanted descriptions to be pretty, as well as actually have some image. In hindsight I am very honored for Best Mood, because I put a lot of work into writing Tides of Yue.

Sadly, I did not do much worldbuilding before Tides Of Yue actually began, because I was nearing SWC’s deadline for a magnificent Writing Competition! However, Tides Of Yue refers to a girl named Yue, which means Moon in Chinese, who is royalty (as specified with her addressing that she would be dead if not royalty. First this line is because commoners hold much respect towards high authority. Second because there’s hypocrisy in Yue’s world (she addresses an infuriating double standard of how certain people are treated poorer than others) ). She runs out of time, as a result of trying to save her people, as well as making bad decisions (addressed with description with her stomach knotting (in discomfort), also making sure those endless amounts of regret are related).

This story feels very centric on events that happened in past years (but were never expanded upon due to planning this without any planning!) But, essentially Yue sacrificed a lot for her kingdom (like arranging a coup on her father, who was a dictator), but while trying to arrange a coup, she traded some of her time alive. Because of some elites that supported Yue’s father, her brother had died from an assination (with poison). This was staged so she was framed by somewhat royal elites. Yue still feels resentful about this.

Now about trading! Basically, an old woman, which is a dealer, (who is a sole dealer in this story but far more dealers exist, through backdoors of a royale empire). In Tides of Yue, she takes Yue’s name, which goes down into a spiral where Yue,, well, essentially loses her self-identity, because she has attached her self worth to a kingdom that didn’t care for her! A name is interesting— it’s a first impression someone has about you, in which that carries so much weight.

She also has changed a lot because she used to not be a type of person to use horrible measures, if it was someone she hated, but now she will. From her resentment of her kingdom, she stopped caring. That resulted in her starting to trade random items she found, as well as things she just disliked in general. She was ultimately quite impulsive (also in a super detrimental state).

All of this really started from an image of someone being petrified with stillness (that image does look beautiful, with a decorated coating of marble). I remembered there was a story I learned in Chinese class about a story which portrayed an idea that time was more valuable than money. You hear phrases like ‘you can’t buy time with money’, but what if you actually could? How desperate would someone be for time? Random related kingdom drama was actually inspired by this manga called Atsuki No Yona; I just loved an image of a fearless princess (with assassinations yay!)

So, what would people do if they knew they were nearing their death, as well as wanted to try again? This is a curious question to keep in mind.

An important part of Tides of Yue is a part her mother plays in this story. Yue is shown to adore her mother as well as reflect on her a lot (for good reason)! Her mother is a big influence that shaped her character, where Yue cared about people, trying to put a stop to injustice. Her mother told her to be strong-willed, as well as standing up for her people– it’s a nice balance. Parental figures play a huge role in our lives, also shaping which people we grow into in future years. Her mother is a person who knows Yue best, knowing Yue wouldn’t have killed for betrayal, but only for ending injustice. Yue’s mother also upholds high moral standards, when she contrasts Yue to her past self. Pointing out how Yue has been corrupted (as parents do point out our mistakes in our development), is important. Throughout, her mother is family Yue misses most.

I think nearing ending, where images of her accepting her death is what should be conveyed. At some point, we have to accept a hard truth– we’re going to die. She accepts that she should have lived better as well as not regret things you never did for yourself in order to serve someone else. Stars, as Yue stares at in amazement, are beautiful, but they don’t last (despite having a lifespan of around millions through billions of years?). That long time feels like an eternity. Connecting to this, our lives, like stars, are each beautiful in their own ways, but they don’t last forever. That’s why we need to enjoy moments of our lives, rather than waiting, perhaps living for someone else. Somewhere down future years, we must accept we will die at some point, as well as need to do things we truly want. It isn’t really Yue’s fault her life got cut short, as she wanted to protect others (but was betrayed). Protecting others was a value from her mother she learned to value; Yue valued it.

At Tide of Yue’s ending, when she describes a world she sees in front of her as ‘tattered yet delicate’, she is addressing how she is finally living (brink of her death), while also accepting a value as well as beauty of life she has, without needing to trade anything, as well as compromising. As of why I named her Yue, I don’t know, Moon is a poetic name that can have so many significant meanings entangled within. Exploring these possibilities of stories is beyond exciting.

Finally, may your memories be immortalized in stone, because your impact, despite miniscule, will still exist through people you’ve met.

War 3 - From Wari (description extra challenge BLEHH) - 505 words :)


The city is quiet, only the breeze that wavers back and forth. Small grasses that extend from the ground and shoot, up up up, until the roots grow stories tall, waver back and forth. The noise, coming from grey pockets of air, swirl back and forth, and under the city breeze, no one is moving, breathless with motion.

A playground, tall and free-standing, is polished: red ladders connecting to a blue wide slide. It is large and stands still with a placid motion that allows it to be grounded. The monkey bars, to the right, are blue and sticked with heavy paint, metal shining through and through. Though sometimes, when heat comes, it burns heavily– a distaste to any fingers that come in contact.

Brown mulch fills the floor of playgrounds– several wooden blocks that stack on top of each other and rest. They don’t slide on each other, because they cooperate to be a surface – a ground to be stepped on. When the sun sets, the mulch is obscured.

By the playground is a wide forest that densely fills each space occupied. They sway and turn in circular motions, forming a whirlwind. The gentle breeze is calming, as it merges with the city’s breath. A heartbeat, a steady motion that speaks.

The city’s trade center, wide and large, stands tall on its two feet. Bustling and crowded, it boasts attractions from all around the world – an eye-catching building that radiates holographic lighting. Each day, this trade center captures cameras and wins the hearts of tourists. Inside, the large walls of cerulean water, which reflect the life and energy inside the grey-finned dolphins. For a second, life is possible, existing, amongst the immense traffic that blares outside.

To the left, strategic-minded business people bundle up and loud chatter can be heard echoing from the walls. To the right, pairs of wooden chairs scatter, unowned by any but about to be placed on show. The brilliant warmth that clasps within the city lights, shining dimly with a pale yellow glow. Each piece, perpetually moving, is the heart that stitches the individual pieces of the city together.

Upstairs, urban infrastructure spreads across the grey air-conditioning. The warm air rises then rests throughout the floor, plants with tinted leaves blooming and flourishing. They suck in the daily activity, before finally going to rest their eyes after a bustling, long day. Hanging on the ceilings are shining grey orbs, extended below in the air.

The dome that arches and stretches long and wide holds this building together. Sucking in the voices, it bounces them around echoing so they have a place to fly free. To the outside world, this is a place of mystery, but to those who feel the culture and air flow to them, a sense of joy shines over their lively faces.

The sunset that eventually turns to dark blends in the elements of the city: the chilliness and warmth, and colors that buzz and blaze. The owl hoots when night comes, which fades to darkness.

weekly 3 for hi fi! okay this was super fun and right now i want to do some intense world building that is even better than this

Weekly 3

Part 1: brainstorming:

-Tropical setting
-archipelago
-Must go through painful trials to be considered an adult
-Boat homes
- Small villages all ruled by chiefs who are elected by the elders
-All the chief’s must answer to the theocracy that is in charge of the whole land
-Known for intricately beaded clothing
-Daughters are the best treated children
-Tattoos are very important and symbolic
-Aloe is a symbol of peace
-Monkeys are symbols of childishness
-Parrots are a symbol of fools who think they are smart
-Conquer nearby lands to bring their faith to them
-They also conquer nearby lands to take their resources
-Funerals are a long and complicated business as they must make sure the soul goes to the right afterlife
-children learn to handle a small boat by themself by the time they are around eight years old
-only chiefs, elders and the theocracy can have beards but anyone can have a moustache
-there are fantastic creatures in the ocean around them. Most are peaceful, but not all
-a palm tree that gives prophecies marks the centre of the archipelago
-they love to dance and have fun
-the high priest has magic and when a child is born with magic they must train under the high priest for a few years
-children with magic are treated as gods and it can cause their development to be pretty wonky
-pretty much everyone wears protective charms. Anyone can make them but they work much better if made by people with magic
-song magic is rare and revered for it is believed that the world came into being because of a song. It is also feared for they believe that one day a Singer will destroy this world and take them into the new one.
-due to this, the only songs allowed are prayers and sea shanties which are really prayers for their voyage to go well and praise of the ocean
-magic is like a storm inside people, some people let it take over them and they become creatures known as The Wanderers so it is vital that someone train them how to use it
-no one really knows what makes children magical but there are many speculations and women try many things while pr*gnant to make their future child magical
-Mermaid-like creatures called sea guardians

wc: 387 words

Connecting ideas:
A thickly jungled archipelago on the Forgotten Sea makes up the country known as Swoarhiel. There are sixteen main islands and thirty-five smaller islands (though this is debated due to disputes), but the size of an island does not always contribute to its importance. For example, among the smaller islands, there is the island of Ablijanu which is the home of the Grand Temple. The Grand Temple is the home of the Ethero or High Priest who communicates with the gods to guide Swoarhiel. Not only does the Ethero have a special connection with the gods, but he also has been blessed with magical powers since childhood, and he must have magic because it helps him to lead his country well. Magic is a wonderful tool and if used well but it can turn people into horrible monsters if not properly handled. Nobody knows exactly what causes magic, not even the Ethero, but there is always at least one child born a year who has magic. But if the magic is not properly cultivated it will act as a malevolent parasite in the child’s mind and soul and turn them into a horrible creature known as a Wanderer. So once magic is discovered in a child they are sent to be trained by the Ethero and his acolytes. Some may go on to become acolytes themself, or they may serve their community in a different way.
A common way for people to support their community whether or not they are magical is fishing. Living on an archipelago, babies are introduced to water almost from birth and in fact a large number of the people on Swoarhiel live in boat houses on the many rivers on the archipelago. By the time children are eight years old or sometimes even younger, most of them can operate small boats alone and fish for their families. One food that people love to catch for feasts is turtles.
Feasts and festivals are always fun and lively full of dancing and music (but there are many limitations about singing, so the only musical sounds from a human mouth are vocalising along with the instruments but most of the time the dancing is too fast for anyone to have the breath for that.
Now what could be a cause for the feast? Well, one could be conquering another island. The people of Swoarhiel like to view themselves as being kind and generous, but they also view any outsiders as blasphemous heathens. Because of this, the Ethero commonly sends crusaders to nearby lands so they can spread the faith and “the proper way to practice it” and they also commonly take resources. A favourite insult for soldiers to send to their enemies is parrot feathers because to the people of Swoarhiel, they represent fools. Sometimes the countries realise that war is not a good idea, and the people of Swoarhiel view the aloe plant as a symbol of peace and truce.
What do the people of Swoarhiel wear? Most of their clothes are made of coconut husks and decorated with shells, colourful and intricate beading, and little crab claws. Pretty much everyone over the age of 14 (which is when you are considered an adult if you pass a series of painful trials) has at least one tattoo and no one lower than a chief can give you permission for one. Even then it is usually discussed by a council of elders first and then brought to your village chief, and they will decide if you are worthy of receiving this tattoo and if you will carry out its honour well. Facial hair is also regulated. Though it is rare, some boys will get facial hair before age 14, and they are not allowed to keep it. Once they are considered men by their community, they may start wearing a moustache if they desire, but beards are forbidden. The only people who can have beards are village chiefs, village elders, The Ethero, and his acolytes and there are different ways they need to style their beards depending on what their job is and the time of year. Also pretty much everyone wears protective charms as they believe in many demons.

wc: 704

Narrative:

My family always said I was a little peculiar. I was the youngest of three children. Our father repaired boats for our village which was in a protected little valley right by the coast of Nokas. Our mother had injured her legs back when I was too little to remember, so she couldn’t fight and fish like she used to, but she still gave back to the community by making beautiful beadwork. My oldest sister Paeo was 14 and preparing for the trials that would lead her into adulthood. She only had a small understanding of what they would be. My next oldest sibling was my only brother Zyraqqeos. Because boys are viewed as lesser than girls in our country, Paeo and I got authority over him. Or well, okay that wasn’t exactly true, but we got stuff before he did. If father went out and bought us mango candy, Paeo and I got the first pieces. But father would always remind us, “Now Zyraqqeos you eat last today for the earth belongs to your sisters, but when you depart into the afterlife you and other boys and men will take on a much more important role. You just must be patient.”
I shivered a little at the idea of the afterlife. I knew of course that it was a beautiful paradise but the journey there was very difficult. Zyraqqeos did not shiver at all, he would just grin proudly. Zyraqqeos was 10 years old and he had just started training to be a Priest of Death. I was 8 years old and according to my family I was attached to my little kayak. Actually it was pretty much true. As soon as my morning chores were over I would take my kayak down to the water and paddle around, but I wasn’t looking for fish like the other kids around my age were doing in their kayaks. I wasn’t getting into splash fights like some of them, I was looking for the fantastic creatures that roamed the Forgotten Sea. I’d heard some crusaders at a feast once (before I’d been sent to bed way too early) talk about lovely women with scales instead of skin and fins instead of hands, fishy tails instead of legs, and spots of glowing colour that ran along their sides. That was something that I wanted to see. But I was eight years old and I could never get past the patrol of adults who made sure that no children ever went too far out. I hated them for that. I could kayak just fine.
I woke up one day and the first thing I realised was that I was underwater. The second was that I was breathing. Still, I was scared and confused and I swam to the surface, hardly noticing how much easier it was for me to swim. I resurfaced and gasped for air, but it was like inhaling smoke and sand. Everything hurt. I looked around in a panic. “Paeo!! Dad!!” I screamed those a few times before I realised I wasn’t saying those but I was making a sound like a seal barking.
“Come follow us,” said a woman with a voice that well reminded me of a seal barking. Well, I thought she was a woman. Then I saw that she was much more fish-like. “You’re one of them!” I gasped, my throat still hurting but I didn’t know why.
She laughed and it sounded like waves crashing on shore. “I prefer Sea Guardian, but yes, and so are you if you accept it.”
“What?”
“Follow me, your new form is not designed to breathe air for too long.”
I followed her back underwater and swam alongside her. “Every 100 years, a young girl is chosen from among the lands of The Forgotten Sea and if she accepts she is declared the guardian of the sea.


(maybe continuing later)

wc: 652 words

overall word count of part 1: 1,743


Part 2:

-What is an important symbol of your world?

An important symbol in Swoarhiel, and really pretty much all of the nations in the Forgotten Sea is the Aloe Plant. Aloe is used to soothe burns and wounds so it makes sense that it is a symbol of healing. It is also a symbol of peace, truce, and forgiveness. So if enemies decide to stop fighting they will gift each other with an aloe plant. If someone forgives someone who has wronged them it is customary to give them an aloe leaf. When they enter the new year and wish to resolve themselves of last year's sins and prepare themselves for the new year, a sweet dessert is made from the aloe and eaten. A small portion is sacrificed to Arkhioth goddess of the new year

-What is the origin of your magic?

Back when the world was lawless and shapes and time were only loose guidelines the oceans churned for thousands of years. Well, who can really say how long it was for? Then a different sound joined the crashing of the waves. A song. The first of its kind and no other song was quite like it. The song brought time and order to the world and it formed a single creature out of mud from the ocean floor. The creature was given the knowledge that it was her job to create the world. And after that song had been played, the world to be lay just in waiting, ready to be coaxed out. And so she woke the world up and it was glorious and good. And she created more life on the many islands including the great gods that we now worship and then when that was done she lay down and d*ed. And behold as her body d*cayed at the centre of the world a beautiful palm tree began to sprout and in time it would have a voice and impart knowledge upon those who would listen. And the magic that lingered from that song went along and found some of the creatures to bless. And a hundred years passed and the people were mistreating the sea and so a little girl went out to sea and dr*wned but then she woke again and she was a combination between a fish and a human and she became the guardian of the sea for the magic here was much purer and innocent and the humans must not damage it. And every quarter of a century after that a new guardian of the sea replaced the old and she alone contains more magic than most humans could ever begin to fathom and she is highly revered. Perhaps it is she who blesses some of the little children with magic in their souls. It seems quite likely
Well at least that’s what the scriptures say. Who can say what really happened? We weren’t there

- How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalized part of your world?
I can have people commonly asking a mage for help with a problem they’;ve been having, and while I can have a character be intrigued by how it works, and of course present some mysteries, but at the end of the day I have to remember that this is something still fairly normal to them. It is the same way a human in our world might hire a technician and some people might be a little fascinated by it, but they understand that there is a science behind it and it’s just something some people can do


- How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? also What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?

Everyone knows someone with magic unless they are a hermit and even then they have almost definitely seen a magical creature. Most of the time if a human is magical it is revealed by age 10 and small signs might appear when they are younger. But typically mages start hearing a song that no one else can hear at age 10 and begin displaying magical powers. After a few weeks they will feel something inside them clawing and begging to get out. Magic is a feisty little creature that does not wish to be contained and anyone who thinks that magic is kind and gentle must be corrected. Magic can be used for these purposes but the children must be trained how to keep the beast known as magic on its leash. It is not recommended anyone try to hide their magic because if they do the magic will take over and they will become like demons. Children are strongly educated on the subject so they will not think they are going crazy when they start hearing the song. That has caused many tragedies in the past as one might imagine. There once was an Ethero who did experiments on children with magic and letting them become monsters. He thought that perhaps this was simply the next step for humans and that they were to stop enslaving magic. This made the people very angry and they revolted against him, declared a new Ethero, and removed almost every trace of him from their history books

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


Magic is viewed as a dangerous but useful tool bestowed on people who are usually not ready for it. It has horrifying side effects but used properly it is seen as a blessing to the people. They have made many wonderful things with magic. It is rather like fire. Used improperly it will burn down the world, but how far could we have come without fire? Not far at all. Really the main difference is that anyone can handle fire, only some people can handle magic.

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


On the archipelago of Swoarhiel, there are of course differences in education based on social status, but for the most part they believe the best way to learn is by doing. Typically in a village an elder is selected to assure that the children get a balanced education, and then other members of the village pitch in and take turns teaching the kids lessons. If the children need to learn about the food that sustains them they will help gather that food and often get told a lesson or a story while they do that and they will learn how to tell if a coconut is good or not. History and mythology which are very tightly woven for them are something that are told as stories but it’s very common for children to act out stories from these lessons. All their life they are taught to respect and revere magic and the gods. Learning is very important to them, but a child who is cooped up in a classroom for too long just learns how to recite facts and cannot become the person they are meant to be. At age 10 children leave this school system and take on an apprenticeship in their village. Both boys and girls do this and it is expected that the person they are apprenticed to will teach them every skill that they happen to know whether or not it is related to the job.



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


Magic does affect the government of Swoarhiel because only someone with magic is able to be the Ethero or high priest who rules over all of Swoarhiel. However, every village is ruled by a chief and a council of elders and they do not need to have magic. Also regular priests do not need to be born with magic because it is believed that through their rigorous training they will form a spiritual bond with the gods or in most cases just the one god that they serve. The Ethero is believed to be someone who has reached the highest pinnacle of magic and divinely chosen by the gods to rule, but now because of Ethero Azol who performed dastardly and cruel experiments on children with magic, there are some laws in place which basically say: although the Ethero is the divine mouthpiece of the gods and in most cases should be trusted without a doubt, the words of the gods may be lost in translation from time to time and thus your trust should be placed first in foremost in the gods.

-What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?

Laws about magic: If a parent senses that a child has magic the child must be tested by a priest as soon as they get a chance. Failure to do so within a month except under very specific conditions such as the village and surrounding villages having no priest that is easily accessible or can easily come to the child in the condition that travel is difficult for the parent or child may result in public flogging of the parent as well as the chance of the child being taken out of their custody.

If a parent does bring their child to the priest and the priest finds that the child does have magic but the priest does not report them to the Ethero, the priest is stripped of their title and honour. However, they may train again to become a priest after a time of repentance.

If someone is caught singing a song with words that are not a prayer or a sea shanty (a common example of this is serenading a loved one) they are to have a rag tied around their mouth for the rest of the day because they are blaspheming against the holiness of music and the song which created all magic. The only people who have an exception are Singers though those are very rare, and the Ethero on certain holidays


-What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic?
A hero of Swoarhielian history is an old fisherwoman named Lizotl. Lizotl had magic but she lived a fairly normal life, using her seemingly simple gift of flower growing to help the young people express their love to each other. It always gave her a nice sense of joy to do that. But one Dry Season a wicked mage named Jeki rose spirits from the dead to attack the village where Lizotl happened to live. The warriors could do nothing against the undead and it seemed all was lost, but then in the middle of the dry season when all but the toughest plants should have been able to grow, Lizotl was able to make a huge garden burst to life around the undead and because some of these people were actually ones that she had helped the flowers reminded them of that and they refused to harm her or the village and the flowers brought back other memories to the other ghosts and they all went back to the land of the dead. And after that all the dead were buried with flowers so they could hold onto a beautiful memory of the world of the living but understand that they no longer belonged there.

wordcount: 1767

part 3:

Urban fantasy: I’m packed into the subway with a bunch of other people and we’re all on our way to work. My headphones are broken so I have to listen to the chatter around me. Everyone is talking about the recent news articles about monsters in Witherberg and the unexpected arrival of Leila Forrester, a scientist who should seemingly have nothing to do with our little city. It’s really hot in the subway and my nose is overwhelmed by the smell of sweat and other stuff I’d rather not think about. Everyone is talking at once and so I am only just able to hear the conductor over the intercom. “Attention passengers, we seem to be experiencing a slight delay and we are working on fixing it.”
Everyone started to complain but they hardly had any time. Suddenly the subway began shaking violently and everyone began screaming and panicking.
I swear I’m going crazy because I hear a voice that seems almost like a woman, but dare I say demonic? “Hello my little puppets, we’re going to have such fun.” It seems like everyone’s heard it now, because we’re all clambering to get out of the now stopped subway and crashing into each other. But all of a sudden everything has gone completely dark.
I wake up in a hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and Ivs. I’m feeling pretty groggy, but I swear I’m not imagining the fact my skin is now made of rock. I mean, I have to be imagining it, but it feels so real.
A nurse comes in, and immediately I ask him what happened. “You don’t remember? There was… a gas leak in the subway and you passed out.” He’s lying, I can tell instantly. The voice from the subway fills my mind again and I punch a hole in the wall which surprises me. “Tell me what happened!”
The nurse yelps. “M-maybe Professor Forrester can explain it better, but right now I need to check your vitals.”
“Fine,” I grumble in annoyance. “But she comes in here right after you’re done.”
Once the nurse has checked my vitals, not making any comments about my stone skin, he leaves and a beautiful woman I recognize from the news walks in.
“Hello Miss Rhodes.”
“Oh, call me Cecelia. So apparently you can tell me what happened on the subway.”
Professor Forrester sighed. “There’s no point in beating around the bush. I came to Witherberg because I had heard rumours about gates to H*ll. The subway you were in went over a gate to H*ll and because of that everyone in it has suddenly been given demonic powers. Most were dragged off by demons to serve them, but we managed to save you and a few others.”

(oooh I kinda like this premise. Might continue one day
470 words


Hidden World fantasy

“Moommmm! It’s too slimy!” Tate whined, wrinkling his nose and trying to squirm away as his mom rubbed sunblock onto his face.
“I know Tate, but you don’t want a sunburn, do you?”
Tate sighed. “No.” He stayed as still as he could while his mom finished rubbing the sunblock in. Then he grabbed a shovel and pail and ran down to the edge of the lake to get some wet sand. He filled the pail all the way and had to use both hands to carry it. “I’m gonna build the best sandcastle ever,” he said determinedly as he began carrying it over to where his mom was sitting with his baby sister Avery.
“No you aren’t,” said an old man, which startled Tate. The beach was far from crowded and he hadn’t remembered seeing any old men. It also startled him because even now he couldn’t hear who was speaking.
Tate looked around, wildly. “Who said that?”
“Down here, giant!” The old man sounded grumpy now.
Confused Tate looked down and saw a tiny little old man with loose flowy robes and a tall pointed hat. “What do you think you’re doing here?” He asked, arms crossed and scowling at Tate.
Tate’s eyes widened and he stumbled back dropping the pail of sand and most of it spilled out. “Wh- what? You’re a gnome!” Tate was at an interesting age. The age where the world was trying to teach him that magic didn’t exist and he found himself growing to believe that, but not being one hundred percent sure. Even then, seeing a gnome was still a huge surprise.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m a sand gnome and the only sandcastles on this beach are made by sand gnomes. So you take your silly human sand castle and you put it somewhere else.” He shuddered. “I’d hate to see what would happen if some dumb kids thought your sandcastle actually met our building codes and went in. There’d be bl**d on your hands, giant.”
Tate wasn’t sure what that expression meant, but he’d heard it before and he knew it was bad. “What no, I don’t want that!”
“Then get off this beach. I don’t know how a human got here. Those sentinels really are doing a lousy job. This beach is supposed to only be open to magic-kind,” he grumbled.
“This is a magic beach!?”
“That’s right,” the gnome said proudly. “And you don’t belong here.”
“Could you just show me around a little? Pleeaaseeeee?” Tate begged, using puppy eyes which had an odd effect because he was three feet taller than the gnome.
Suddenly a gnome ran to them from a nearby sandcastle. “You found the saviour!?” Before Tate had a chance to speak, the second gnome was bowing low. “After many years the prophecy has come true. Thank you for coming to save us.”
479 words

Dystopian fantasy:
Coriander Thornshire had to stand on her tiptoes to catch even a glimpse of the dancers on stage. The people in front of her watching the performance were dressed only slightly better than her, with her torn, undyed linen dress. To an outsider the difference would have been very small, but anyone from Kyrvo knew that kids like her weren’t meant to watch such festivities. Next to the stage on either side stood six knights in their helmets designed to look like snarling wolves. They too were watching the dancers. Coriander grinned to herself as she saw the pretty pieces of glass jewellery the dancers wore, glinting in the sun as they spun and leaped.
A hand suddenly grabbed Coriander and she was about to scream out when she realised it was her mother. “Coriander, I told you not to come to this festival.” She glanced around nervously but everyone was fixated on the stage. “Let’s go home quickly.”
If Kyrvo was a poor town, then the eastern edge was desolate. Everything was broken down and only the toughest plants grew here. There’d been a river many years ago but it had dried up long before even Omeyd Heavenway Kyrvo’s oldest citizen could remember.
The Thornshire family lived in a simple house with clay brick. The only outer decoration of the house was their family name carved into the door, which Enheduanna Thornshire slammed as soon as she had dragged Coriander in. “Table now!”
Coriander sighed and obediently sat at the table, across from where her father choked down bitter tea, his eyes only half open. “What’d she do this time?” he sighed wearily.
Enheduanna sat down too. “She went to the festival.”
“Oh for crying out loud! Cor, why would you do a thing like that?”
“I… thought maybe it would give me luck?” Coriander tried.
“If luck’s a thing, we Easterners don’t get it. You know that. One of us Easterners is going to be sacrificed to the wolves tomorrow night and I don’t need you giving any reason to make the knights rig the drawing and choose you.”
Coriander hung her head. “I know… I just wanted to see the dancers.”
Enheduanna rubbed Coriander’s shoulder. “We’re just glad you’re safe. Now go see your grandmother, she wants you.”
Glad she wasn’t in trouble, Coriander ran to where her grandmother sat in her rocking chair working a simple nearby loom with her mind. “Coriander, is that you?” she asked, voice frail.
“Yes Grandmother.” She stopped suddenly. “Is that red fabric?” she whispered.
Grandmother grinned. “Yes it is.”
“Red fabric is illegal. What if the knights find it?”
“Well, soon enough the knights won;t need to even be here. Because I;m going to give this fabric to whoever is chosen as a sacrifice to the Wolf Gods, and this fabric is going to protect them and they’re going to finally rid us of those monsters.”

(this is actually a story idea I had about a year ago, this is not the best first attempt, and i would write more but like… wanna get this turned in lol. Yes the last names are based on hunger games. Idk just seems fun i guess. Some day i think i will write this story for real and make it less hunger games esque.

555 words. overall wordcount for part 3: 1504

wordcount for the entire weekly: 5014

Weekly #3

Part 1: World-building
List:
- Main transportation: boats
- Lands connected by an intricate underwater tunnel system
- Various island societies forming a nation
- Very reliant on the sea
- Well trained spy agency
- Powerful military force
- Most important value: loyalty
- Smaller governments, ruled under one king
- Type of music = symbol of the status
- Commoners working at ports
- Public markets for building community
- Animals = valued as much as people
- Status is based on magic ability
- People born without magic are at the bottom
- Sea creatures kept as pets
- Food = important part of everyone’s lives (especially seafood)
- Education is a requirement for all classes
- Different schools for different abilities/classes
- Ability determines your future (career path)
- Highest level citizens are business people, architects, and scientists
- Music = favorite form of entertainment
- Classes form their own communities
(126 words)

Connections:
The portside city of Maricor is the capital of the Navien Empire, being the largest and most prosperous city. Because of its prime location on the Arcanum Sea, Maricor is heavily dependent on the sea. Boats are the main form of transportation, making boat building the largest industry in Maricor. Some other naval-related industries include fishing and ocean-generated power. The ports of Maricor also allow the people to export and import goods.
All Maricorians are born with magical abilities. These abilities range from elemental powers (wind, fire, water, earth) to mental powers. Social classes are determined by the rarity of your power. For example, elemental powers are the most common, so many Elementals make up the commoners. People born with rarer powers, like telekinesis and shape shifting, make up the elite class. Which power you receive is also hereditary, which is why elite families manage to stay in the upper ranks. However, once in a blue moon, a baby of the lower classes is born with an exceptionally gifted ability. The different classes tend to form their own, separate communities, and they don’t really interact with people of other classes. The different classes also receive different privileges. For example, the upper classes can afford music concerts in grand concert halls. The style of music reflects the classes. The type of music enjoyed by the elite class is more elegant and grand, whereas commoners’ music is more upbeat and rowdy. Music is the favorite form of entertainment in maricor, regardless of what class you are in.
Education is also highly valued in Maricor. Different schools specialize in different magical abilities, designed to hone in on your specific talent.
Every week, down by the port, where the commoners work, you will find a bustling market set up by the citizens of Maricor. This market was set up to build community among the different ranks of Maricor, as the market is open to everyone. The various stalls include dried seafood, fresh fish, seaweed-based skincare products, and a wide selection of fresh produce. This is one of the only times when all the classes interact with each other. (Generally, the merchants are the ones selling and the elites are the ones buying.)
+368 words

Story:
I push through the crowded market packed with fishmongers, seafood stalls, and wandering customers. The cool sea breeze ruffles my cheek, as the ocean glints in the distance. Overwhelming scents waft from the packed stalls. Fried fish. Dried squid. Seaweed noodles. The delicacies are as endless as the rows of stalls that seem to stretch for miles. I spot my mother and father in the sea of people. They are working today, as most commoners do on Market Day, at one of the hot seafood stalls. I immediately walk over, the tantalizing aroma of frying fish drawing me in.

“Hello Dawson,” I call to an old man handling the ice chest full of fish. He has been a family friend of ours since before I was born.

“Oh!” he exclaims, looking up from his work. “Mari! Good to see you! Shouldn’t you be at the Institute today?”

The Institute is an elite school meant to train those with the highest magical abilities. As a child of commoners, I wouldn’t have been granted access to this prestigious school if it hadn’t been for my exceptionally rare ability. I am an oracle, which means I can foresee things.

“Yes, but I wanted to stop by the market first to check out all the products!”

“Ah!” Dawson exclaims. “Well, then, enjoy! Maybe when you get back you can read my future for me, hah!”

I smile awkwardly. As a student who is still learning to harness her ability, I am forbidden from using my powers anywhere outside the Institute. Of course, I’ve told people this countless times, but they always seem to forget.

After waving goodbye to Dawson, I walk over to my parents. My dad is hard at work, slicing fish to be cooked. My mother is at the frying pan, grilling some mackerel. Both of their brows glisten with sweat. Seeing them work long, grueling hours was the main reason I wanted to attend the Institute. I was determined to make a better future, for myself and for my parents.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad,” I say, popping my head into their stall

“Oh, hi Mari,” my dad says, without looking up. His knife moves swiftly, creating a pounding sound against the cutting board.
My mom, finally seeming to notice I am here, looks up from her frying station. She smiles widely, greeting me.

I notice a few customers waiting outside our tent, so I rush to go take their orders. My heart fills with dread when I realize one of them is a boy—an elite. And he goes to my school.

I can tell he recognizes me, because his eyes flicker with recognition. I fidget, awkwardly.

“Uh, may I take your order?” I ask.

“You’re Mari, right?” he blurts, then instantly seems to regret it.

“Yes,” I respond slowly, wary.

“I know you,” he mumbles. “From school.”

I am about to cut him off—to ask him for his order and send him on his way. But something about the boy is different. He isn’t like the other elites, whose faces only meet me with scorn and ridicule. This boy seems genuinely interested, which is nice for a change.

“What’s your name?” I can’t help but ask.

“Caspian. But you can call me Cas.”

“Alright, Cas, nice to meet you. Now, actually, may I take your order?”

He laughs, a full bubbly sound. It suddenly occurs to me that I’ve never had a friend before.

“Hmm, what do you recommend?” he asks.

I look back to see what my mother is cooking. “Grilled mackerel,” I say.

I give Cas his fish and he waves goodbye. “See you at school!”

The whole time I am taking the other customers’ orders, I can’t stop thinking about that boy. Perhaps I have managed to make a new friend.
+633 words

Part 2: Questionnaire
1. What is an important symbol of your world? - 112 words
Music. Music is the defining symbol for all the citizens of Maricor, regardless of class. Music has always been seen as a symbol of the sea’s beauty, mystique, and strength. Because of its location by the sea, Maricorian music contains deep, resonant horns, booming percussion, and high pitched, flute-like instruments made from seashells. This creates a rich layering that ultimately symbolizes the power of Maricor, the people, and the sea. The type of music also varies from class to class. For example, upper class music is generally more rich and complex, and is enjoyed in elaborate performances. The music played by commoners is more jovial and lively, with a brilliant, drum-like tempo.
2. What kind of magic is used in your world? - 91 words
Maricorian magic comes from the humans that possess this magic. (In other words, it is not contained in any sort of object or artifact). Pure magic forms in the body, which is where Maricorians source their power from. Maricorians use magic in their everyday lives, and it plays a subtle role in their daily work. For example, those with water-manipulation powers often have jobs as fisherman or port workers (as their control of water becomes quite useful). Those with rarer powers often work at the prestigious schools to train younger students.
3. How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities? - 84 words
Every Maricorian is born with a magical ability. This ranges from the elements, like wind, fire, water, and earth, to rarer, more mental powers. Some of the rarest include telepaths, telekinesis, and oracles. Other than that, Maricorians lead typical lives of fishermen, merchants, cooks, entrepreneurs, and sailors. The gift of water is an especially useful power to those that work at the docks. Those with exceptionally gifted abilities dedicate their lives to educating the youth, to ensure that these rare powers get passed down.
4. How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)? - 94 words
Education is an important value in Maricorian society, as it ensures that magical powers (especially the rare ones) can be passed down from generation to generation. All children are required to receive an education not only in magic, but also mathematics, the arts, literature, history, science, etc. Education varies for different children, depending on their powers and their career path. Some receive a more hands-on education, for those that will go into services. Others receive a more formal, academic education. Different schools are set up for different powers, to hone in on specific powers.
5. How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)? - 80 words
Because magic is something that everyone possesses, it is seen as a normal part of life. However, this does not stop Maricorians from believing that magic is special and sacred. Magic plays a key role in citizens’ everyday lives and it overall makes life easier. Special universities dedicated solely for magic are also highly valued and respected. Citizens appreciate their powers and are very accepting of magic. Over time, magic has become an important, yet subtle part of everyday life.
6. Describe the popular infrastructure in your world. - 90 words
Because of its coastal location, boats (of all different sizes) are the main source of transportation. Maricor stretches along the coast, so canals and water highways have been constructed to aid transportation. Bridges are constructed over the canals so that people can walk over them. Its coastal location has also influenced the building materials. Concrete is an effective material used in building homes and streets, as it is very durable. The main power source for Maricorians is also generated from the ocean, although solar panels are also becoming increasingly popular.
7. How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalized part of your world? - 80 words
I can ensure that magic is seamlessly embedded by making it a normal part of everyone’s daily lives. Instead of making it seem strange and foreign, I can show how it is viewed through the characters’ eyes—something perfectly normal. Additionally, I will ensure that magic does not solve every single problem. The characters would still have real, human-like struggles, making them more relatable to the reader. Just because they have magic powers doesn’t mean there won’t be conflict or hardships.
8. What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? - 129 words
The single, most important law pertaining to magic is that citizens under the age of eighteen are forbidden from using their powers in public. Magic powers do not fully develop until the age of eighteen, and minors do not master full control of their abilities until they are fully developed. Considering this law pertains to children, the punishments for breaking this law include expulsion or suspension from school, paying a fine, service work, and overall shame brought on the family. As for fully developed abilities, using them to cause harm or destruction is strictly forbidden. The punishments that entail include time in prison, paying a large fine, and, of course, shame on the entire family. To misuse your powers is perhaps the biggest, most frowned upon crime in Maricor.
9. Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses. - 101 words
Magic comes from the heart—the soul. When you use your ability, you can feel warmth spreading throughout the body. For elemental powers, the ability to control the elements comes from hand motions, so that is where the warmth is concentrated. The smell, of course, depends on the element. For water, a cool freshness fills the air. Water swells from a pool, like a splash in slow motion, moving in sync with one’s hand. One can almost taste the freshness, as if water has purified the air. As you graze your hands against the clear, glassy droplets, you feel at peace. Calm.
10. How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? - 92 words
All characters possess magical abilities, but the strength of their powers vary. Those with more rare powers make up the elite classes, while those with common powers make up the commoners. Magical ability is usually discovered in children around the age of four or five. From then, schooling can begin at one of the specialized academies for magic. Abilities are also mostly hereditary, which is why the elite stay elite and commoners stay commoners. However, once in a blue moon, a person of lower class is born with an exceptionally rare ability.
+953 words

Part 3

Dystopian Fantasy
Having supernatural abilities, we had always been seen as inferior. Outcasts from society. Under a totalitarian government, you learn not to speak out of place; compliance is the key to survival.
And yet, the government still wasn’t satisfied. Had our obedience not been enough? Was it because we never said a word—always kept our mouths shut? Surely it couldn’t have been the fact that we possessed magic? Of course, it probably was. I never thought that a trait you were born with would ultimately lead to being exiled.
But no one questions the government. Ever.
—
It has been three years since the government exiled us from our home. An entire community of magicals. One hundred seventeen, pushed out of the city’s gates, forced to fend for themselves in the brutal, sweltering desert.
I think the government’s ultimate motive was for us to perish. No one survives in a scorching desert for long. But they underestimated us, and our powers. Quickly, we set to work, building an empire. If the government wanted to push us out of their city, we would build our own. In a way, it was an act of protest.
Our water-benders quickly set to work, drawing water from miles away to create a stable water source. Our engineers and architects decided that the only way to survive the desert was to build underground. So we did, working with three times the speed and strength of non-magical humans.
An underground tunnel system was built, complete with living quarters and kitchens. The tunnels gave us access to the city, where we had spies on the inside. Food rations were collected monthly and soon, we had a thriving underground garden, thanks to our Lumens.
As soon as I was old enough, I began to attend community meetings, where we discussed survival and politics. It was then that I heard the one word that was absolutely forbidden back in the city. Rebellion.
We had survived and struggled in the shadows for so long. Now, we are coming back stronger and bolder than ever. Rebellion was brewing.
+345 words

Science Fantasy:
The moonlit garden was dark by the time I arrived. A few other scientists had already gathered around the dirt beds fixed with artificial lighting. Their gazes met mine—looking scared and anxious. We all knew what was at stake here.
A few months ago, a dangerous sickness ravaged our space colony of Ignotus, leaving many weak and unwell. With no known cure, the disease spread like wildfire. No one knew where this mysterious virus had come from, as our team of scientists worked around the clock to research a remedy. As a part of the youth scientist program, and one of the few who had not been affected, I now met with scientists daily to devise possible cures.
Months of research had only told us that the disease only affects those who possess magic. Great, I remember thinking. The entire colony of Ignotus is filled with magic. Not only that, but the disease was capable of harnessing the body’s magic to draw power from it. That was how it had multiplied so fast.
Nearly all of our ideas had been compromised, until Dr. Conrad, the head scientist, came across a possible solution. It was a plant—Nightweed—which contained a rare chemical in its leaves, believed to combat the disease. Quickly, we all headed to the lab’s garden, to test Dr. Conrad’s hypothesis.
Now I stood, gazing at the plant that was quite possibly the key to Ignotus’s future. Its long, spiky leaves protruded from the soil. I could tell why it was called Nightweed, for it seemed to glow in the moonlight. Quickly, we were divided into groups. One team of scientists began extracting leaves from the plant, while the other group transported them to the lab. When I was handed a crate of leaves, I streaked across the fields. The urgency of the situation was pressing down on me, as I thought of my sick mother and father. This is for you, I thought with determination.
As I made it to the lab, scientists were already extracting liquid from inside of the Nightweed, and placing it in clear tubes. I watched them measure the liquid in the vials and squeeze them into syringes. Finally, the moment of truth.
We packed the syringes into a crate and dashed to the infirmary, where the needles were injected in patients.
Three days—no sign of progress. I was beginning to accept defeat, that there was no hope for the future of Ignotus. But on the fourth day, nurses started seeing improvement in their patients. On the seventh day after being injected, some were strong enough to use their powers. I began to see hope, first a small flicker, and then a roaring flame. Ignotus was saved.
+452 words

Hidden World
The Society members flooded into the room, eyes darting to make sure they hadn’t been seen. Then, the door disguised as a bookcase closed and the meeting commenced.
They were inside a dimly lit chamber, filled with cushioned armchairs and bookcases. This had been the meeting place of the Society members for the past four years.
“First things first,” Atticus, their leader, called out. “Has anyone discovered our secret?”
A murmur of “no’s” filled the room, with varying levels of certainty. A few members shifted uncomfortably.
The Society was harboring a big secret—one that would be sure to cause widespread chao if any human being found out. Society members were magical. One thing that Society members all had in common was their ability to harness magic from within. The extent of their powers ranged from simple levitations to flooding entire rooms.
Perhaps one of the most shocking facts about this peculiar society was that they lived their lives amongst normal human beings. As Society members, they were well accustomed to flying under the radar and blending in with the shadows. Sometimes, hiding in plain sight is the best way to go unnoticed. Currently, the Society was located in New York City, after a small incident in Tokyo had forced them to flee. (Luckily, one of the members had wiped their memories before things could get out of hand.)
The mission of the Society was to preserve magic while still allowing humans to live their lives freely. It was also to ensure that magic did not get into the hands of the wrong people, specifically power hungry humans.
Atticus called the group back together again. Their uncertain faces were a signal that someone was on to them.
Atticus sighed. “What is it?”
A small, petite woman with pointy ears spoke up. “Well, the other day, I was in the bathroom, and I thought no one was there. I hate using those little knobs at the sink—they’re so inconvenient—so I started to make water flow out of the tap with my hands. Only, someone walked out of the stall at that very moment!”
Atticus groaned. The rest of the Society gasped. “You did what?!” he practically shouted.
The woman seemed to shrink under his fiery gaze. “Don’t worry, I have it all covered! I got Judy to trace down the person who saw me and she wiped her memory.”
Judy, startled that her name had been called, turned red.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Just be more careful next time.”
After a moment of silence, another man spoke up from the back of the room. “Actually, sir, I have one more thing to mention.”
“What is it?” Atticus asked, looking exasperated.
“Well, um, I was walking to the post office last week, when I saw these men trying to steal from an elderly woman. It just made me so angry, so I chased them down the street and into an alley. And…I might have used my flames to threaten them.”
Several Society members gasped. It was absolutely forbidden for a member to intentionally use one’s powers in front of a human.
If Atticus had been upset by the previous woman’s remark, he was now ten times angrier. Enraged. “CALEB,” he practically bellowed.
“I-I’m sorry sir!” Caleb’s eyes widened in terror. “Do you think they’ll believe it, though?”
“That’s not the point!” Atticus snapped. “You could’ve exposed our secret! This puts all of us in danger!”
Caleb hung his head in shame. Atticus throws up his arms in annoyance.
“We’ll wait a few weeks to see how things unfold. Most likely, those humans will dismiss the problem as a traumatic hallucination. But if not…” His eyes narrowed. “Then, it looks like we’ll be moving again.”
+620 words

YESSSS WEEKLY FOR MYTHH!!! I am VERY happy with parts one and two, I did some brainstorming for a novel I'm starting to work on!

Part 1-1: Brainstorming (140/??? words)

Craggy cliffs
Only purpose of magic is to transfer between two realms
Magic is relatively uncommon, 1 in every couple hundred might have it
Deep silvers and blues signify magic
People keep to themselves, not very talkative and often hesitant to reveal personal info
Magic people are mostly shunned
Tightly packed city
Most magic users work for the ruler
^ Because of this, people are suspicious of them
Tall buildings
City is near a large lake or mostly surrounded by bodies of water
Robins are widely regarded as good omens ;)
People often talk simply and get to the point
Not much else is near the city, outer lands are mostly unexplored
Mainly focused on individual success, not families
Futuristic technology, kind of dystopian urban fantasy?
Very large city
Ruler is elected
Community eats lots of fish, fishers are admired
Very minimalistic




Part 1-2: Connecting the bold things (313/200 words)

Landscape: Cursekeep (working name that I do not think fits xDD) is a mid-sized town formed at the foot of a massive cliffside. They protect themselves from falling rocks with a series of metal posts propping up the cliffs. The city is crowded up against the cliffs, as if they are protecting themselves from something. What they are expecting to attack, no one knows—there are no known civilizations beyond Cursekeep's walls.
People: The people of Cursekeep are very formal. They rarely use a long word when a short one will do, preferring to get to the point and get conversations over with as quickly as possible. Many people are hesitant to reveal personal information, taking a while to trust that the person they're talking to isn't an Illusion, a magic user.
Magic: Anddd that brings us to the magic—some of the people of Cursekeep possess the ability to phase between our realm and another, known as the Illusory. The vast majority of these Illusions have been recruited to work for the ruler of Cursekeep, which leads to a general attitude of distrust towards them from the Confined (non-magical) people. There aren't many who possess this magic, however, only about one in three hundred have the ability to phase.
Additional Customs: Many people in this world, especially the rebellious Illusions, regard robins as good omens and as symbols of hope and freedom—there are many of the birds in the city, but they have a strange avoidance of the palace in the center. As well as this, the people are very minimalistic. They live in relatively small homes, letting a lot of people reside within the city's walls. Finally, a custom of the people is to focus on the individual rather than the family. Children often move away from their families when around sixteen, and the occasion isn't regarded as very momentous.


Part 1-3: Story in the world (459/400 words) (ahh I love this!!)

I staggered backwards, eyes darting from one wall to the next. It felt like the bricks were slowly creeping towards me, chastising me for what I had just done.
If they had seen me—even just a single person…
My head jerked up, convinced that I had seen a curtain slide shut out of the corner of my eye, a watching person trying to hide themself from me.
I had to leave.
I turned, ran from the alleyway, my forehead scrunching as I tried desperately to keep the magic from seeping out. My feet pounded against the ground in an erratic semblance of a rhythm, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
I stopped briefly when I arrived at the cliffs. Here, the city's edges began to soften, more and more room appearing between each small house. This was the place I always went to feel relaxed, but today I was feeling anything but calm. Taking a swift look behind me—no one was following, at least, no one I could see—I walked up to one of the thick metal poles holding the cliffs up. Wrapping my legs around it, I shimmied upwards until I reached the platform about ten feet in the air.
I pressed my back to the pole, facing towards the steep cliffs, hiding from the city. Bringing my knees to my chest, forming a ball of stress and confusion and fear, I finally let my guard down.
This city had never been kind to me. I left home early, at fifteen instead of the usual sixteen, not yet aware of how suspiciously Cursekeep regarded anyone who deviated from the usual. Having magic, phasing, that would make me even more suspicious.
I could tell no one. But if anyone had seen me as I reappeared in that alleyway, the news was sure to spread. People here choose their words carefully, but that wouldn't stop them from giving up my secret. And once the ruler knew of this, they would send others to find me, to force me into the life I was running from.
From what I saw in the Illusory, the hordes of other magicians swarming through the place, they were working on something big. And I wanted no part of it.
The smallest crunch sounded from behind me, and I took a shuddery breath. I squeezed my fists together, pressing my eyes closed, hoping that it wasn't them.
“Ana (?)?” a cautious voice came from behind me.
Behind the sound of my thumping heart, I recognized the sound. But my brother; he was dangerous too. He would turn me in to them with no hesitation.
I clutched my legs to my chest even tighter, hoping that, if I made myself smaller, I could disappear.


Part 2: Questions (1085/800 words)

What kind of magic is used in your world?
Cursekeep's magic users, who are known as Illusions, have the ability to phase between two realms—our own, and another called the Illusory. Though the two realms are pretty similar, they seem to have diverged a decade or two ago for some TBD reason. Because of this division, walls and buildings in the Illusory are sometimes found in different places than the normal realm. When an Illusion phases, they must have a clear map of both realms in their mind so that they don't accidentally phase into the other realm's wall!

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
Since the magic used in Cursekeep is relatively harmless, there aren't many laws regarding it. However, there is one big law. All Illusions are required to report to the palace upon discovering their powers. No Confined—besides the ruler themself—knows what happens here. As the writer, I do have some exclusive information about it Illusions, due to their ability to easily get into and out of places, are being used as spies. (Lol, I don't know much about this yet)
As for punishments, most Illusions are smart enough to report to the palace when called upon. Those who don't are forced to lend their aid, but they must go to do some specific building project in the Illusory that I don't know about yet xD

What is an important symbol of your world?
An important symbol in Cursekeep is the robin D They symbolize hope and freedom and are thought of as good omens by the rebel group. It has become a symbol because of its strange unwillingness to fly anywhere near the palace. The ruler, some of the more loyal Illusions, and most of the Confined dislike robins for the same reason and don't want them anywhere near their homes. Some rebels have even been experimenting with using robins to carry messages.

How can your world’s magic aid character development?
Depending on the person who receives magic, they will have a different response! Some people who are nervous may try to hide it, while others might immediately tell their families and friends. It also can show their beliefs—people who think that the ruler is great would turn themselves in, while people who believe in the rebel side may try to avoid capture. So if their thoughts on magic change over time, for example, if they start out unwilling to show their magic, but are using it confidently in the end, that would go along with a character arc where the character becomes more brave!

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic isn't too common—only one in every couple hundred people have it, which isn't many in a small-ish city like Cursekeep. Characters are usually aware of having magic. Once their magic appears, they use it uncontrollably, flickering back and forth between the Illusory and the normal realm until they finally get themself under control. This is pretty hard to ignore, and it's quite startling for anyone nearby! Many Illusions gain their magic when between 14 and 18, and people on the younger end of this are even more at risk of being around others.

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
One main limitation is that it can do only one thing—transport characters between realms. And there are only two realms, so they can only switch between those two.Another limitation might be that they can't travel too fast, like they need a cool down of sorts in between each trip. I would assume that it changed with practice, so people could improve their skills, and the exact amount of time it lasted would depend on the person and on their individual skill.

How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Out of the three options, magic is regarded most closely to the last. Anyone who does not possess magic is very suspicious of it, and the majority of Cursekeep wishes that it just didn't exist. It really depends on the person, though—some Illusions love their magic and exploring the Illusory, and they wouldn't know what to do without it, while others hate it completely and wish they could get rid of it. Perhaps eventually it will become more normalized.

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
Cursekeep has a pretty good education system! Everyone from 5 to 15 years old is required to go to school for five hours per day. They learn significantly less than many people here, though. They learn only very basic math and a minimal amount of history, and a lot of time is spent on architecture (the city is quickly expanding), sometimes science, and learning about the city. There are several schools across the city, and all of them follow the same curriculum.

What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
YESSS I love this question!!
Illusion: The most common name for magic users.
The Illusory: The name for the other realm! Like “Illusion,” this word was coined by a non-magic user—since they can't visit this realm, it is like an illusion to them.
Phasing: Travelling between the Illusory and the normal realm. Unlike many magic-related terms, this word is pretty neutral and no one minds using it.
Confined: A name for the non-magical people of Cursekeep—they are confined to a single realm. This is a relatively new term, and it has spread between rebellious Illusions. Since the ruler of Cursekeep is himself Confined, he is very against this term (negative connotations, lol) xD
Fledgeling: A new recruit in the rebel group within the palace. Refers to robins, which are their symbol of hope and freedom.

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
Yess the government is obsessed with obtaining magic!! The only magicless person in the government is the ruler, and they are very envious of the ability to travel to the Illusory. However, they completely make up for it by putting laws into place that force all Illusions to do their bidding. But this magic also makes it pretty easy for Illusions to escape the grasp of the ruler—two realms mean twice the amount of places to hide from them.


Part 3-1: Urban fantasy (311/300 words) (wrote during cabin wars, do not expect quality)

The rain pitter-pattered on my back, slipping into my coat. Somehow, even though it rained constantly in Seattle, I was still unprepared for it. Honestly, why did I even still own these thin fleece jackets? They're completely useless here.
I took a deep breath of cool night air, pulling the coat tighter around my body. Tramping through an annoying series of puddles, I feel drips of water seeping through my boots.
A creak comes from behind me. I spin, seeing an automatic door swing closed. Someone must have gone in—or come out. I hurry my steps, making my way towards a pocket park in between two towering buildings.
Splashes come from behind me, and I turn to see nothing. No one.
Taking a shuddery breath, I hurry on, making my way to the park. No one ever visits it, making it the perfect place for the fight that is sure to come.
“Hey,” a gravelly voice echoes from behind me.
I turn. Still no one.
I keep going, nearing the small bench that sits in the middle of the park. I sit down on it, not caring when it completely soaks my pants.
I scan the sheet, glad to see no cars heading towards us.
A hand lands on the back of the bench behind me, long fingers wrapping around the wood.
I start, heart racing. Slowly, I turn to see who stands behind me.
It's him.
His face leers down at me, the very definition of evil. Not even bothering to stand up, I simply touch my hand to the bench, and the wood warms beneath my fingertips. The bench's legs kick up dirt, pushing themselves out from the ground. It spins around, ramming into the man and knocking him to the sidewalk behind us.
I smile, staying in my relaxed perch on the bench. Magic is pretty awesome.


Part 3-2: Dystopian fantasy (356/300 words) (stopped right in the middle of something xD)

From my seat on the metal bench, I see my target. Pulling my sunglasses down, I lift my fingers towards them as inconspicuously as I can.
As they walk by, a long streak of white trails out from behind them. It connects with my fingers in a soft whoosh, lengthening more and more until I can pull it fully out.
I wind up the strand, placing it gently into a bottle and snapping the lid shut. Slipping it into my pocket, I stand, hastily walking away. It's always best to get away from the target before they notice.
I pull my hood over my head in a practiced motion as I walk towards the flashing sign at the end of the street.
The sound of pounding feet against the pavement comes from behind me, and I flatten myself to the wall of a storefront.
A patrol.
I inch behind one of the posts holding up the shop's wooden roof, hoping that it and my black coat will hide me from the authorities.
They tramp past me, chattering among themselves about who knows what.
I let out my breath.
“Wait,” one says, spinning around. “Did you hear that?”
The rowdy group walks back towards my hiding place.
With the little time I have, I slump to the ground, pulling my black cloak over my face, hoping desperately that they'll take me for just another person run out of luck.
“Hey.” The officer kicks me, their standard issue boot's sharp toe jabbing into my chest.
I don't move.
“Huh.”
“Leave it, Janson,” another berates him, and they turn away.
As their voices fade, I roll over and stand up, ignoring the piercing pain in my stomach. At least he didn't kick me in the area of my pocket, where it would have broken the bottle.
I hurry to the end of the street, swinging open the door. A sharp buzzer greets me as I make my way inside.
“Good day,” an old man's voice sounds from behind the counter.
“Hey, Barnes.”
“What have you got for me today?” He always did like to get straight to the point.


Part 3-3: Hidden worlds (311/300 words) (Wrote during cabin wars, do not expect quality)

“You guys!” I puffed, racing up to my two best friends. “I found something really cool!”
They eye me a bit warily, before Nico replied, “What is it this time, Perry?”
“I went into the sewer!” I said, still exhausted from my run.
“You did what?” Andy asked while Nico looked on just as dubiously.
“I went in the sewer!” I repeated, a bit confused as to why they didn't believe me. “And you'll never guess what I found!”
“A cat?” Nico said, unimpressed.
“I do love cats,” I replied, “but it was something even better.”
“Better than cats?” Andy raised one eyebrow, obviously doubtful. “Better than sewer cats?!”
I nodded excitedly. “Just follow me!”
They did so, a bit unwillingly. It took a lot of pulling on my part and a lot of complaining on theirs. Finally, though, we made it to the storm drain.
“This looks a bit…” Nico started, trailing off as he stared into the depths.
“Awesome?” I filled in, sure that was what he had been planning to say.
“No…” he said, looking confusedly at me. “I was gonna say gross.”
“Oh,” I replied, a bit dejected. “Well, you'll see the exciting part in just a few minutes!”
I sat down on the hard concrete, staring intently at the drain, waiting for the strange creatures I had seen earlier to reappear.
They settled down next to me eventually.
We waited. And waited. And waited even more.
Nothing came.
“Are you sure you saw this…whatever we're looking for?” Andy said, his annoyance evident in his voice.
“I mean, I'm pretty sure,” I replied.
I knew I had seen those creatures parading in here, but I supposed there was no way to make them come back out.
As the sun began to set behind the trees, I shrugged. “I guess this world just wanted to stay hidden.”

WORD WARS

(23/7/22 note: these word wars were made a few days ago, I only just added proof today)

Word war with @23BraveHeart
~ Status: lost ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
~ 103 words
The cold winter breeze gently surrounded the place. People had to wear thick clothing in order to not feel cold. Leaves fell slowly from the trees, resting on the snow. Snowflakes gently fell from the sky, landing comfortably on the now snowy grass. People ice skated around the place, and drank hot cocoa when it got a bit too cold. Children built snowmans with carrot noses and stick hands. Winter is an amazing season, don’t you think? Although, it is indeed sad that not every country gets to experience it. Winter usually comes in around November to February every year. Winter is nice.

Word war with @23BraveHeart
~ Status: lost ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
~ 150 words
It’s mango day! Mangoes are an inside joke in SWC, that I’m not even sure if most people get anymore, but who cares? Mangoes are a fruit that fade from orange to yellow, and they can be found on trees. Although myself has never tried a mango, they seem very nice and are a healthy food to eat whenever. July 22 is national mango day! Many people from multiple countries like mangoes. Mangoes are a tropical fruit. I have no idea what to write anymore. Did you know that mangoes are mangoes? I’m just typing random nonsense now. Well, does it really need to make sense? Anyways, mangoes can also be green sometimes. Does this mean they’re ripe? Does this mean they aren’t fully ripe yet? Who knows? Yeah, mangoes are cool. Count how many times I wrote the word mangoes haha. Anyways, yeah. Why are you still reading this?

Word war with @skywrites
~ Status: won
~ 186 words
It was a normal morning Saturday. The light shined through my window as I got out of bed. I headed downstairs to eat breakfast, and then I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I checked my to-do list for the day, and it said I had to get the groceries ready. I dressed into some of my casual clothes, and opened the door to head outside. I walked to the grocery as I looked around the beautiful place. I love my city. Trees surrounded the place and fluffy white clouds floated in the air. I got to the grocery and went inside. I looked around the place for the stuff I needed to buy: milk, eggs, and lettuce. I walked over to the vegetable isle and found the green vegetable. I put it into my basket then looked for the dairy isle. I found it next to the drink place, so I got some eggs and milk easily. I put them both into my basket and went to the cashier to buy them. I gave them my money then went back to my home.

weekly #3 -

2814 words total



part one - 847 words

Brainstorm -

- Fairly sized island
- Hidden to anyone outside of it
- Concealed by mountain ranges
- Run by a council of women only
- Four council members, each one representing an element
- Love of music (as a society)
- Only prestigious elders can leave the island and even then it can only be for a short amount of time
- Magic can only be used by the council
- Power source of magic is the main sources of the elements
- Each family has one element running through their family tree
- Famous to islanders for it's Elemental Grove - where eternal flames burn on either side of a waterfall surrounded by whispers of wind and fields of flowers
- Everyone is trained for battle from the age 13-18
- Foxes are considered wise and lucky
- Trees full of mangoes and other fruits
- No economical/social statuses as families
- Stereotypes are frowned upon (as a society)
- Very proud (as a society)
- History as the most important thing to learn
- Belief of crystal properties and abilities (as a society)
- Warriors are given the highest of honours
- People tend to feel connected to their magic more when they're around their elemental focus

At the very edge of the vast waters of Malrose lies something unknown to people outside of it. Concealed by rocky mountains where the clear water laps up against the base of them, is the Island of Malrose. Run entirely by women, Malrose is a place of proud and strong people, men, women, children and the like.
In the very center of the mountains lies a tunnel that can only be opened with an incantation spoken by a resident of the island, in the ancient Malrosian language, only used for spellcasting, advanced history lessons, and by the council in private discussions.
The Malrosian Council of Elements is made up of four women, each one representing the elements, which is the main focus of the magic in Malrose. This magic is pulled from the main source of each element in Malrose. Water, Fire, Earth and Air. Each member of the council holds one of those elements in their hearts, triggering their abilities. It was decided that the explorers who found Malrose would be the ones to run the island, with an aim of being a supportive, powerful community.
The magic drawn from the main elemental sources comes from a place called the Elemental Grove, where a towering waterfall splashes down into a river that flows to the end of the island, and lying on the side of it is are two eternal flames, the wind whipping them through the air. All four elements come into play in this grove, and from it, the powers of Malrose residents are drawn.

Water tumbled down from the highest peak of a cliff, pouring itself into a river, travelling miles downstream. I knelt down and dipped three fingers into the water, letting it rush past my fingers. A sudden feeling of warmth and pride coursed through my veins, powering my energy. Every best emotion possible flowed through me like a current. Like rapids pushing against a dam, pleading with the earth to be let out.
I stood up, my chest deflated. Pivoting on my foot, I turned my back from the source of Malrose, the source of my island. A small, orange animal was sitting obediently by the entrance to the cavern, his tail lifted and swaying softly. I whistled, and he began to trot next to me, our steps in perfect sync.
I strayed out of the cavern, and moved back into a crevice of rocks concealed by shadows in the mountains. I opened the palm of my hand and muttered something under my breath, the memory of the incantation I was speaking blurry. A ball of water splashed up from my skin and I gasped in delight. The fox let out a soft bark, much softer than his barks usually were.
I moved my fingers, shaping the water as I did so. It broke into separate bubbles, moved into shapes of some distorted sort, and broke out, water dropping onto my dress. The small place I was in now was somewhere to practice my magic; practice what I couldn’t outside of it. There was always the fear of getting caught, but I assumed it was the luck of having Vine with me that saved me from being discovered. Foxes were said to bring good luck to anyone who saw them. I was one of the few people who owned one; a privilege of being the daughter of a councilwoman.
I cupped my hands together, merging the two bubbles into one, then let it splash upwards and fall onto the ground, another period of time playing with water ended. I’d come back tomorrow, but who was to say that this place wouldn’t be occupied tomorrow? Who was to say that this place wouldn’t be filled in with rocks tomorrow? It was definitely a possibility, but a less likely one. If anything, I would be caught by my mother, and would have to serve a horrid punishment.
And that was something I didn’t want to do.


part two - 906 words

What kind of magic is used in your world? - 92
The magic used on the island of Malrose is connected to the elements. People that use magic will draw their power from the main source of elements on the island. A place called the elemental grove lies in the center of Malrose, where a waterfall tumbles off a mountain, drawing the Water element source. Eternal flames burn on a pedestal on either side of it, drawing the Fire element source. The grove part is quite explanatory, drawing the Earth element source, and wind blows through the grove, drawing the Air element source.


What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? - 148
Magic is only to be used by council members, and each member is bound to use only their element; regardless of whether they have the ability to use another - which all council members do. Other than that, magic can only be used in the most advanced battle training course, where a selected few Malrose residents are chosen to heighten their skills of war. It is considered an honour to be chosen for it.
Regarding punishments, there is a process. The first time you’re caught using magic, you will be stripped of your abilities for four days. If you are caught using them again, you will be held before the council for a hearing. Depending on the outcome of the hearing, you will either have your powers stripped from you forever, or be let off with a great warning and an ability tracker - tracking the use of your magic.


What is an important symbol of your world? - 80
A fox is a symbol of good luck and wisdom. Having a fox by your side is a great honour on the Island Of Malrose, and it’s said to bring you good fortune. A sighting of a fox is rare, but something that you will hold in your memories for the rest of your life. The fox is also the national animal of the island, and ninety seven foxes live there, explaining why it’s so rare to see one around.


What is the origin of your magic? - 83
The origin of the magic on the island is unknown, with many unconfirmed details causing theories to circulate throughout the land. The main idea is that when the four councilwomen, who were sailing the sea, found the island and The Elemental Grove. Something they did; something to do with their bond sealed the promise of Malrose, creating a surge that echoed to the very edge of the island, creating a force so powerful it created abilities that had never been heard of before.


How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? - 83
The Elemental magic courses through everyone on the island, no matter the fact of whether they know it or not. Some people may have weaker abilities than others, but that depends on the strength of the bloodline, which basically means the descendants of the person and the history of the family’s magical properties. The Air element is the least common element to possess out of the four, and the most common element is Earth, so possessing the Air element is considered very rare.


How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)? - 81
The education system in my world is structured quite well. The main focus is the subject of History, the history of the island, the laws and the council. Battle classes are held for ages 13-18, but beginner basic courses start at the ages 6+, teaching younger kids the basics of battle, hiding from battle, and protecting themselves from battle. The four main career paths to go down on the Island of Malrose are: War/Battle, Medicine and Health, Law and Teaching.


Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how? - 81
The magic in my world mainly centers around the government, considering the council members are the only people on the island who are legally allowed to use it - apart from the very rarely given exceptions. Even then, magic is only used for either intimidation, law enforcement, skill classes and a couple more rare situations. The government is based on peace, but it is always ready for war and an invasion to occur at any moment. They are prepared at all times.


How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)? - 87
Magic is barely touched upon on the island. Some people may even forget that they have it in their bloodline, in their DNA. Besides that, most people on the island think little of it, and just go on with their lives. It’s a way of life, a boring normality for them - something they disregard with no feeling. The people love, and are grateful for their abilities, but the fact that they can’t use them has just become a way of life, so they choose to ignore it.


Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses. - 83
Depending on which element someone harnesses, the feelings that are felt when they are using magic can vary. People that harness the fire element may feel a warming sensation in their chest, lighting up their body. A smell of softly roasted tree nuts will enter the person’s nose, and that confirms that their abilities are working properly. Some people can use the magic from their hands, others telepathically, or some with incantations spoken in the ancient Malrosian language, each saying doing something different.


What happens when magic gets out of control in your world? - 88
Back when the Island of Malrose was just discovered, magic was free to use for everyone. The councilwomen thought at first that it was the right decision to let the residents have freedom with their abilities, but soon realised that it wasn’t correct. People started experimenting with their abilities far too much, and competitiveness sprouted between the four elements, and a war broke out. Everyone started believing that their element was superior, and the motive became violent and dangerous. That’s when the councilwomen put the law in place.


part three - 926 words

urban fantasy (304)
The accelerator hummed under my foot as I pressed it down as far as it could go. It was a miracle that the streets were dead, with nothing but the occasional subway rattling past. I cursed under my breath as a pitch black Porsche drove past, its tires squealing along the road. A cloud of dust flew upwards, and I screeched to a stop, my feet hitting the brakes with an impossible force.
“Shoot-” I muttered under my breath. I pushed the door open frantically, almost tripping over my own feet as I got out of the car. Thousands of lights blinded me in an instant, and I realised that running through New York at 11:32 at night was probably a bad idea. I didn’t know why I thought I would be able to catch up with a Porsche on two feet.
Electricity spiked through my veins, a surge of static bursting out of me. My whole body crackled with distorted voltage. “Perfect timing,” smirking, I closed my eyes. Again, that seemed even more stupid, but I trusted my instincts.
Each step I took became stronger. A strike of lightning shook the ground as rain started to pour down, soaking my hair in less than three seconds. I was doing this - whatever this was, exactly. Something about the New York atmosphere was electrifying; in more ways than one.
The familiar noise of a Porsche was beginning to sound closer and closer with every second that passed. I snickered as my speed quickened. She was going to have no idea what hit her. The power of the gods was with me, and it would stay with me until I caught this woman, ending this whole thing once and for all. Ending the war that had been running with this…this civilian who despised the gods.


hidden worlds (300)
Adora flopped onto the back of her bed. Every day was the same. Wake up. Do something slightly productive and different each day, eat, then sleep. Those were the basics of it, at least. Weekdays it was school - which, as much as she loved, Adora didn’t think most parts of it were necessary, including the girls who bullied her relentlessly. She spent most of her school lunches hiding in the back of the library with the company of nothing but her fairy tales and herself. In some ways it was a dream, but in others, it was just a reminder of the fact that no one liked her; that she was too awkward to make friends.
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like in the fairytale world. Adora wondered what it would be like to be there in the flesh.
Adora flipped the page of a classic fairytale book to see that the paper was slowly melting away. She dropped the book in surprise, and watched as the pages completely disintegrated into a bright, glowing white hole. Adora’s eyes widened and she carefully dipped a finger into the hole, gasping as it submerged completely. She pulled it out, and watched as her finger slowly rebuilt itself after turning invisible for a second or two.
Then she took a dive into the book.
Everything around Adora was green. Shrubbery, trees, mossy rocks and lilypad-filled ponds surrounded her, and she immediately knew she was in a fairytale in a second.
Adora turned to see a woman in a beautiful pale pink gown. “Welcome to the fairy tale trails, Adora. I’m Briar. Briar Rose,” Adora was stunned. In front of her stood Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping Beauty herself. Her long, golden hair tumbled down in soft curls to her waist. “Come with me.”


dystopian fantasy (322)
A bright red blinking light on the front of the security camera turned off and I lifted my hands off the stark white table innocently. I looked to the mirror on the tiled wall beside me, raising an eyebrow. It was no secret that that mirror was two sided. I put up a certain finger in the direction of the mirror, not caring about the consequences at all. Each year someone had to die. And almost every year it was someone from my family.
The lights started to flicker, and I rolled my eyes. Standing up, I brushed the lint off my psych ward gown, the papery fabric rustling and folding under my fingers. “Ready to let me go yet? It’s the same thing every year, fools!” I exclaimed, kicking the wall in frustration. I could almost see the irritated agents waiting for me to give in.
The door slammed open, and two men led by a woman in a navy and white suit charged in. They seized me by my arms and told me to stay quiet. All the same trash from every single year.
I put on a whole show, screaming and kicking - the whole deal of drama. Soon enough, (just as I expected) they gagged me with a cloth. I had become used to the feeling in my mouth, so I wasn’t too fussed about it. I was led to a darker, shadowed room deeper down in the facility. It was the same setup as the old room, but the chair bound me down with rough, cold chains. I mumbled something incoherent under the ripped cloth, and the agent woman reached forward and yanked it out of my mouth.
“I don’t know why you try. It’s pointless, you know. You’re all pieces of-” I was gagged again. That was new; me not getting to say my whole speech. I didn’t mind though. Less chances for me to get killed.

Weekly 3

Part 1 (724 words):
1. High mountains
2. Rivers that flow across the country.
3. A king
4. Disdain for disobedience
5. Small country rules by royals
6. Children are to be good
7. Happiness is encouraged
8. Rebels are shunned
9. People with no magical abilities are shunned
10. People who break the rules may get kicked out
11. No roads; just grass
12. Small houses for a family of three
13. No more than one child to prevent overpopulation
14. Schools have a maximum of 500 and a minimum of 250
15. Women must do the housework
16. Men must always work
17. Divorced people are looked down upon
18. The best diet is fruit and vegetables and rice
19. Junk food is not allowed
20. Wolves are an omen of bad luck
111 words.

Seperate from all the other countries from around the area, the country of Aradon lies perfectly in between the mountains that cave the country. Magnificent, flowing rivers can be found all around the country - from small ones that fill a dam, or large ones that flow out to sea. The country is best known for its removal of junk food, as established by the Aradon king, who has been ruling for over twenty years. They have been promoting a healthy lifestyle ever since - the best diet, they claim, is fruit and vegetables and rice, which is locally grown and sold. There are very relevant gender roles in the country - men work, while the women work in the house, and children have to be good. The children are expected to go to school, where they learn magical things with their magical powers. Babies born with no expected magical powers are immediately shunned by their families - even abandoned on the ground, left to starve. There is to be only one child per family to avoid overpopulation, and divorce is looked down upon - everyone has to be happily married together, so that means that they have to pick the right partners and raise their children right. 203 words.

I stand in the country of Aradon, which lies between the mountains that surround the country like a massive guard on the lookout. I watch as the one, large river in front of me flows as free as the birds that chirp above me. There are families living in those small, little houses, with children playing outside. The children all look happy and free, without a care in the world. Some of them lift up the rocks around them without touching them, while the others stare and laugh in amusement.
“That’s all you can do?!” one cries, holding up a cone-shaped hat. “I can lift cats and dogs even with my eyes closed!”
“Yes, but you would be so exhausted afterwards that you would be bedridden for three days!” the one who lifted the rocks says, smiling slightly. The rocks levitate above her, in which her hand is raised high above her head. “Stop being so arrogant!”
“I am not! I’m telling you!” the arrogant one cries. “I’m going to tell mummy on you!”
“I don’t even know your mummy!” the second one says, laughing like a witch. “She probably doesn’t even know who I am!”
I stroll towards them, smiling. “Hello! How are you all?”
They look at me, confused, and then start laughing.
“Are you a newcomer?” one asks curiously, lifting some strands of grass from the ground without touching them.
“Why, yes I am!” I say happily, showing them my hands. “I have never been here before! What’s it like?”
They stare at me. “Do you… not have magic?”
“What?” I say, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have any magical powers?” another one asks, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder. “You don’t possess any?”
I’ve never heard of this before. “What do you mean by magic?”
“Like, can you lift up a rock like this?” the girl asks, lifting up the rock with her bare hands. She murmured something, then the rock moved sideways into the river like a rocket.
“No…?” I say, confused. These children are often incredibly confusing.
They all look at me, fear spreading across their faces. Their eyes are as wide as saucers, and for a few minutes, they are silent.
And then, some kid yells “WE HAVE SOMEONE HERE WITH NO MAGIC!”
Immediately, some people dressed in fancy black robes come running. I stand there in shock and confusion.
They come after me, hands out. “You are SHUNNED!”
Shunned?
I start running for my life.
410 words.

Part 2 (875 words):
What kind of magic is used in your world? (95 words)
The main type of magic used in Aradon is mainly sorcery, which about 70% of the population is born with. The king encourages practices with sorcery, creating new spells that are approved by the kingdom daily. However, one of the many few are born with the ability to use magic as a form of divination, and some of the most honoured jobs require the use of divination. Some also are born with the skill of necromancy - although, it is hard to find jobs with this type of magic, as it is highly looked down upon.
What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? (86 words)
Children by the age of 5 are expected to be tested for the magical ability that they have, given that they have possessed magic. Those who do not have magical abilities upon birth are immediately shunned by their family and their fellow communities. People are not to misuse magic to their own benefit, and families with the ability of divination are regarded as the most honoured. Citizens are expected to have their careers that correlates with their type of magic decided by the age of 15.
How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it? (81 words)
Magic is highly regarded in the country of Aradon. In fact, every single citizen that resides there knows that they have magical powers. They must have magical powers, whether it is sorcery or divination, or even necromancy - a power regarded as bad is better than having none at all and getting shunned. Magic, therefore, is incredibly common in Aradon, anyone who doesn’t have magic that steps foot upon the land of Aradon is immediately shooed away and dismembered from the public.
Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses. (92 words)
When a person possessing sorcery skills lifts up an object, they can feel a tingling sensation within their fingertips. They suddenly feel quite hot - the temperature varying on how big the object is. They can smell a bit of distinct smoke. Depending on their experience on lifting objects, their vision can become quite cloudy and foggy. They can hear the whirl and cackle of the magic happening, although it is only a quiet sound. This typically happens with young children, so when they become adults they are immune to the side effects.
What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic? (84 words)
A sorcerer may be labelled as a “common icioner”, whilst someone who specialises in divination may be labelled as an “elegant icioner”, Also, a person who specialises in necromancy is called a “icion outer”, while someone who possesses no magic at all is called nothing - or even worse, “shun ion”. There are multiple slang terms for the land, such as Magicadon, and Aragic. The children also may call the king “kingic”, which is considered quite an offensive term towards the king, and the adults.
Describe the popular infrastructure in your world. (82 words)
There are no roads or streets, just plain grass and dirt. The mountains surrounding the place are high and absolutely beautiful to look at. The most common way for transport is to walk or use a bicycle (although no one bothers to buy them, since they are so expensive). There is plenty of water that is distributed to everyone in large bottles. The water is collected from the lake that flows, and is cleaned, and then sent to every family in Aradon.
What happens when magic gets out of control in your world? (82 words)
If magic gets out of control in Aradon, there is an immediate lockdown. The king would go to every neighbourhood and every village to deliver the message. Then, the mess that was caused will get cleaned up, and there will be a widespread search throughout the country for the culprit. If the culprit is found, then they will be punished, depending on what they did. If the culprit is not found, then the country will remain in lockdown until they do so.
How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)? (84 words)
Magic is viewed as the norm - every citizen must have some capability of some type of magic. Everyone enjoys their magic, but it can sometimes be overwhelming. The views of magic vary between families - some think it is a blessing to have, and are just thankful that they haven’t been shunned, while some glorify magic, and think that it is the most important part of life; they look down upon those who have been shunned in the past, including those of their family members.
How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)? (103 words)
Aradon highly values education, as the country believes that only education can help you control your magic. There is nothing more than teaching children how to control their sorcery or divination skills. Children who possess the skill of necromancy, though, often have trouble finding schools that teach it, because it is so uncommon and so highly looked down upon that often, people with necromancy have their talents go to waste. They also teach writing, reading, and arithmetic, and perhaps even some geography and science as well. They also learn the history of Aradon, but most of their school life is all about magic.
Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how? (86 words)
Not necessarily; the kingdom is fully based on magic - it was the kingdom that decided to shun those who don’t have magical abilities; it was their decision. It was the king’s influence that decided that necromancy was so looked down upon. Everything was the king’s decision - nothing more, nothing less (apart from the people who passed the laws). The citizens live happily as long as the king makes all the decisions. The king glorifies magic, and makes sure that magic is found upon everyone and everywhere.

Part 3:
Dystopian fantasy (402 words):
When I was about five years old, I was brought to a medical facility on the outskirts of town. I didn’t know what it was, nor why I had been brought there. The only thing I knew was that I had to go there with my mother, who was looking extremely worried.
“What is it, mummy?” I asked my mother that day. It was a rather cloudy day. She didn’t respond, and insisted that we keep walking outside of our village. I didn’t say anything - partly because I was still confused - but hurried on nevertheless. We approached a medical facility that looked very new and very scary. I hid behind my mother’s legs when we walked into the reception area.
“Hello, is this Jane?” the receptionist asked, jotting down notes in her notebook. “Appointment at 11 o’clock?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I remember my mother saying.
“Great,” the receptionist smiled. “You can make your way down the hall, up until room 4.
We walked together down to room 4. A lady with a coat greeted us.
“Hello there!” She welcomed us warmly. “You are here for your five year old checkup, am I correct?”
“Yes,” my mother said.
“Great!” the woman said, wisps of greying hair dangled in front of her eyes acting as bangs. She brought out a needle from the desk drawer.
I didn’t know what was happening, but I do remember the pain from when the woman drew my blood out. I was crying big fat, sloppy tears, begging for my mother to stop the pain. My mother looked at me with a pained look.
The woman inserted my blood into some devices, and we sat in silence for a few moments. Then, the device shined red.
My mother gasped.
The woman went outside and yelled. “Guards!”
A number of guards came in, and started dragging me by the arms. I was screaming, jerking my head at my mother, who was crying silently. The woman placed the device in one of the guard’s hands.
“No sign of magic in this young girl’s blood,” the woman said. “Take her away.”
My mother tried to stop the guards, but it was too late - while I was thrashing about, the woman injected me with a needle, and soon I was dozing off into a sleep. The world spun about me.
The last thing I remember was my mother screaming while being led outside.

Science Fantasy (300 words):
There was a happy town in the magical realm of Juiceville. Juiceville had all the latest technology imaginable - computers, games, tablets, phones, and even the hoverboards! It’s a wonder there needed to be magic when they had all of this. And I live in this town!
I went to school one day - the school was called The School For Magical Beings, which featured everyone in the town. I was riding my hoverboard, when I saw a poor girl being bullied by her fellow peers! Her peers were calling her “threim”, which was an extremely offensive term if you ask me. If you didn’t know what the word “threim” meant, it was a made up word that was made up by social media, but everyone knew it now - even the government! Basically, it was used to describe someone who had little to no magical powers.
“Hey!” I said aggressively, hopping off my hoverboard and angrily storming towards them. “What do you think you’re doing at?”
“Doing at” was basically the slang term for “what do you think you’re trying to do?” in Juiceville. Everyone used it basically nowadays.
“What do you want, shrimp?” A girl asked, laughing. “With your hoverboard and stuff… it’s a wonder you even need magic! I think they’re pretty overrated.
I gritted my teeth in anger, balling my fists so that my knuckles turned white. I angrily walked up to the girl that had dared to talk to me like that.
“You will regret that!” I threatened.
She merely laughed. “With your hoverboard like that, are you sure? People with hoverboards aren’t that cool, you know.”
So then I slapped her across the face. She looked at me in shock, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“You actually—?”
“Yes, I did.”
I was very pleased with myself.

Hidden fantasy (307 words):
Janie was at school, doing her school work. She was huddled in the middle of class, in the desk in the corner of the classroom near the window. She dared not to talk to anyone, in case the teacher saw what was happening.
When she was doodling aimlessly on her page, the characters came to life. Every single blot of ink became a ball, every single circle became a clear ball, every single stickman figure she drew, it went out of the page, straight over the edge, and scurried to the crack in the doorway and out of sight. She didn’t know what on earth was going on, since it seemed to be only that blue pen that she had bought from the store the other day.
“I don’t know what’s happening!” Janie muttered anxiously, drawing aggressively with her lead pencil on the same page, which did absolutely nothing. “What is with this?”
She was incredibly worried that her teacher would see the blue figures peep around the door, or even her friends. If her friends caught word that some blue tiny characters that she drew on her schoolwork had come to life, she would be ridiculed and even laughed at. Janie was very worried.
“Stop!” she muttered angrily, after accidentally (and subconsciously) using the blue pen to draw a stick figure and then it flew out of the page. She didn’t realise it though - her brain must’ve liked the rather flowy and smooth gel pen.
“Janie?” the teacher interrupted her thoughts. “What is the answer to question forty?”
“Uhm…” Janie was lost for words. She was not paying attention at all. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blue figure climb up the teacher’s desk. Her eyes widened in horror.
“Janie…?”
“Uhm.”
Janie saw the teacher glance at the desk for a moment.

total word count: 2719.

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 1
~ I love fantasy :]
~ Fun fact: This is my first time actually world-building!
~ Fun fact 2: I came up with the name by combining eclipse + solar

○ A small democratic country
○ Floating islands
○ Soft magic, used for basically everything
○ More of a modern style with lots of plants
○ Solarpunk-like elements
○ LOTS of plants and nature
○ Candy mountains (but not actually candy, it just kinda looks like it)
○ Honors peace, hardwork, and love
○ The place has been through a lot to get to this point
○ Entertainment places (such as circuses) are very popular
○ Wings and/or birds as a sign of peace/good
○ A giant lake
○ The world is divided into two (georgraphy wise)
○ EXTREMELY advanced technology
○ Multiple languages throughout the world
​​○ Multiple fruit orchids everywhere
○ Collaborative projects are popular and hosted often
○ Education is important and valued
○ Most people have a diet based on plants
○ Teleportation, hot air balloons, flying, and cars are the most popular methods of travelling (but in order to travel to another country, you still need to book a ticket like in real life)
~ 151 words

Eclior (Ec-clih-or)
Eclior is a small democratic country located in the east of the planet Lunsweeta. It holds many popular landmarks, such as the Candy Mountains and the Rabbit Lake. The population of the place holds roughly around 2 million people.

The place attracts multiple visitors with their beautiful scenery and terrain that consists of countless plants. One of the most popular mountains in the world, the Candy Mountains, are found in the city of Cotean. Rabbit Lake, a huge lake located in the city of Jerika, is the most popular lake in the entire world, due to it’s beautiful fish and scenery surrounding it. It’s named Rabbit Lake due to the shape being similar to a rabbit. Friendly fruit orchids are planted all around the country, including the most popular orchid in their land – Meigoe, consisting tons and tons of mango trees.

Although there may be a lot of plants surrounding the place, there are also a good amount of buildings that provide shelter, health, entertainment, and much more to everyone that lives in the region. Magic schools and acadamies are built all over the land, providing knowledge to the people. Education is heavily valued in the country. Entertainment structures, such as circuses, are very popular and attract many people. There are also many cities and towns where you can find countless houses and homes around the place.

Floating islands can be also be found everywhere around the country, although more commonly on the west side. These huge islands can be accessed from using magic, staircases, or magical teleports. Anything can be found on these islands, from cozy sky cafes to workshops. Some people have even built their home on these floating pieces of land. The islands are marked SAFE, and will not fall down. Falling over the edge on an island will cause a slow and safe fall, although most islands have fencing to avoid falling down. It is still heavily recommended to use magic to get back down.

The place is truly wonderful, although it had a rough history to get to this point. A large area of the country has been destroyed and re-built 4 times due to natural disasters.

In conclusion: Eclior is definitely a unique place.

~ I would’ve expanded on the rough history part but I couldn’t think of what else to add :skull:
~ I apologize that it justs cuts badly at the last part, I was running out of time h
~ This is supposed to have the vibe of an article
~ 372 words

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 1.5
~ Narrative
~ These are just random characters ajshaja- I might make them official characters if I like them a lot though
~ This is really lazy and rushed sorry :’D I apologize in advance for how badly rushed and unoriginal it is-

Khaki was taking her dog on a daily walk by the park. The beautiful Autumn leaves fell gently from the trees. She occasionally glanced around to examine the floating islands in the distance. After a while, her legs got tired and she sat down on the nearest bench she could find. She made sure to keep close eye on her dog, who knows what kind of trouble they could get into?

She raised her hand in front of her, allowing the sunlight to pass through her fingers. She smiled, grateful for the amazing life she has.

“Khaki!” a familiar voice called in the distance.

Khaki put her hand down and quickly turned around to see who the person was. Her best friend, August, was running towards her, her long brown hair flowing behind her. Khaki’s dog, Pancake, was barking happily at the sight of her.

“Hi!” Khaki waved when her friend sat down next to her. “It’s that time of the year again when your name matches the month.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” August replied, crossing her legs and putting her hands behind her head. “I’m born in August, my name is August, my favorite month is August, the month right now is August- That’s a lot of August.”

“August doesn’t sound like a word anymore,” Khaki chuckled.

“Are you going to the Doodle circus tomorrow? It’s back in town again, if you didn’t know.”

“Yeah! How could I not go to my second favorite circus? Their performances there are really funny.”

“I agree.” August paused, thinking of what to talk about. “I spotted a new island on the way here.”

“A new island? Wow! What’s it called?”

“It’s called the Julian island, named after the person who first saw it. I don’t actually know how long it’s been here for though, the last time I took that path was a month ago.” she shrugged.

“Did your parents allow you to go to the Rabbit Lake with me in February?” Khaki asked, petting her dog. The two friends could switch topics all of a sudden and neither of them would mind.

“Yeah, they did! I’m so excited! Too bad it’s still next year though…” she sighed.

“Yup, it’s sad. Why did we must have the idea when it’s starting to get cold already?”

August shrugged. Suddenly, she remembered that she was going to show something to her friend. She muttered something and 2 mangoes appeared in her hands. She gave one to Khaki, who was very confused but gratefully accepted the mango.

“I got these from the orchid near my house.” she explained when she saw the confused look on Khaki’s face.

“Oh! Cool.”

The two talked for hours and hours, pausing every now and then to make sure Pancake didn’t get into any trouble. Finally, the sun started to set, and the two headed back to their homes.

~ Sorry again that it cuts off very roughly, I tried to do it on time :’D
~ Not gonna lie the intro has a nice vibe, but the rest is pretty bad imo-
~ 478 words

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 2
~ No comment

What kind of magic is used in your world?
A soft and natural magic system is used in my world. People do not need wands or any items of that sort to cast spells, as they can just use their hands. In order for a person to cast a spell, the caster must focus deeply on that spell and say out loud the name of it. Casting spells take away a bit of energy from a person, depending on what it is. If a person is skilled enough, they can cast spells without needing to say the name out loud, although they will have to use more energy and focus more. Some places are cast with spells where nobody or only selected people can do magic. (117 words)

How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
In my world, people use magic in many different ways. It is fairly common for people to use it everyday. Some people use it for healing themselves after a minor accident, some use it to get work done quicker, some use it for entertainment, the list goes on and on. There are multiple different abilities, such as the ones I just mentioned. Some people tend to not use magic due to them being afraid to cause an accident, or they believe they are not strong enough to cast a spell. (90 words)

What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
In my world, it is illegal to do any spells with a bad intention, such as badly hurting someone (the only exceptions are self-defense or friendly battles that do no major damage) or stealing an item. The government is very strict on these rules, as there can be multiple consequences if magic is in the wrong hands. There are no spells that are considered “dark magic,” as the people believe that any spell can be considered dark if used in a bad way. The punishment of failing to follow these laws can vary depending on what the person has done, but the most common is prison. These prisons are heavily guarded and only trusted people can cast spells. It is not illegal for people to use magic for things that can already be done quickly without magic, just unrecommended. (139 words)

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic is very, very common in my world. Every character has the ability to use it and cast spells, although some are not strong enough, too afraid to do it, or some other reason. Everyone is aware they possess it, and they know either from people around them (such as friends, family, teachers, classmates, etc.) directly telling them about it or simply learning it by themselves (some people can accidentally cast a minor spell when they hold a strong emotion, although it is impossible to accidentally do a major spell like a block magic one.). (95 words)

What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
There are a few limitations in my world’s magic. There are only so many spells that exist, and it takes many, many years to learn all of them. Like mentioned in number one, there is a spell that can block out everyone’s magic except selected people. This spell can also apply to objects, which means the object cannot have any spells cast on it (such as the finding spell, for an example.). Some spells also require two people to cast it. (81 words)

How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Magic, like everything else in life, is viewed differently from person to person. Some believe it is an amazing discovery, and some think it’s not a big deal. Very few people have a negative view on magic, but a lot of people have a neutral view. Like a lot of stuff, some people’s opinion on magic can change based of their experiences of it; if they have seen people cast “dark magic” on someone, they may think everyone does “dark magic” and isolate themselves from it. If they have seen someone cast a spell that benefits someone, they may have a positive view on it. (105 words)

Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
Even though magic is incorporated in my world, the character’s routines are not very different from the real world. People mostly do the same thing, although they do it faster and more efficiently. Many would use magic to skip certain steps, such as simply using a finding spell instead of looking for an object, or casting a light spell while waiting for a blackout to go away, just to name a few. Magic makes a big impact on the world, and a lot of people use it in their everyday lives. (91 words)

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
The education system in my world is not very different from the real world. The only major difference is that they both teach different things. Schools in my world mainly focus on teaching people how to control their magic, but they also teach many other subjects too. Some examples of different subjects schools teach are: different languages around the world, how to care for animals and plants, interests a person may have (such as music and/or art), and many more. Every school is key on making sure that the students are going to use magic for good, and students are told that “dark magic” is bad. (107 words)

What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
When magic gets out of control in my world, the government and other volunteers try their very best to get everything back to normal. They will search for the source of what’s causing things to go bad, and they’ll try to put it back in it’s rightful place. The government will send out the according instructions on what the citizens should do while they’re investigating. “Dark magic” has caused the place to be destroyed in the past, and nobody wants that to happen again. (84 words)

Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
~ DISCLAIMER: I don’t fully understand how government works in the real world, so this may be very wrong/weird
Yes, magic does affect the government in my world. The government has to work very hard every day in order to make sure that nothing goes wrong. There are multiple people in the government, and they all take turns taking watch on the place. They make sure that everyone is safe, and doesn’t get injured. They are catious on picking someone new to help them, and they check if they have casted any “dark spells” before, or have attempted to. (80 words)

~ 989 words

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 3
~ Dystopian
~ First person because why not
~ I deeply apologize if this is offensive to anyone /gen /srs

I yawned as I stretched my arms and rubbed my eyes. I blinked a few times before the world finally came into view. I got up from my cheap bed and walked around my hut for a bit. I’m very lucky to have shelter, even if it’s very small. Most people here can’t afford a house or something to keep their head under.

I looked outside my hut and watched as the people searched for food to eat. I sighed as I thought about how much easier life would be if we just had easy access to food and water. Then again, we could just use magic to get some more water, but only a few people here (including my family, fortunately) has powers like that. Besides, it’s hard to control water anyways.

I walked outside as I waved to my mom who was summoning some water. She waved back, then turned to what she was doing again. It takes a lot of focus to make water, let alone it being clean.

I continued walking until I found a tree. I sat underneath it and closed my eyes. I like to come to this tree every day, it takes my mind off things, even for just a while.

I felt someone sit down next to me. I opened my eyes and looked around. It was my best friend, Zara.

“Hey.” she said in her usual calm tone. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” I replied.

“I don’t wanna pressure you or anything, but do you wanna practice your powers later in the afternoon?”

Zara also had water powers like me. She was way more skilled though, as her uncle, who lived in another village, thaught her sometimes. The village was very far away though, so she could only be tutored a few days every month.

“Yeah. That’ll be good.” I said as I closed my eyes again.

My village isn’t the best, but it’s not the worst. I’m trying my best, and I’m confident my life will change for the better. I don’t know when, but I know it’ll happen. Someday.

~ Heavily inspired by the example, I apologize if it’s too similar-
~ 350 words

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 3.1
~ Hidden Worlds
~ Also first person because yes
~ The M/C is a child by the way

“Mom?” I asked my mother.

“Yes?” she replied, looking at me.

“Why do we hide ourselves from a different world?” I asked. “Is there anything scary out there?..”

My mother sat down on a chair she summoned. I always asked her if she can teach me how to do that, but she always keeps on saying I’ll learn when I’m older. She summoned another chair next to her and motioned me to sit on it.

“You see…” she said, sighing. “No, there’s nothing scary out there.”

“Then why do we hide?”

“I’m not finished.” she smiled. “The other world out there doesn’t have any magic, you see. And we do.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Think of a dragon. You think they’re fiery and scary, right?”

“Yes.” I replied, not knowing where this is going.

“How would you feel if they lived with us?”

I paused to think for a moment. “I’d be scared… what if they destroy something?”

“That’s exactly what the other world feels like. What if we use our magic to destroy something? What if we use it for bad? They’d be surprised if they saw us do magic.” she paused. “Some people who see us with a negative view might tell other people and they’d have that save negative view, too.”

“Ohh!” I nodded, starting to understand. “But why do we have to hide our country? Doesn’t that make them think we’re even more dangerous? Can’t we just not use magic in front of people?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know who’s magical and who’s not. We can’t just go asking other people if they’re magical or not,” she chuckled. “Some people might also forget that rule and accidentally do magic in front of other people. It’s hard to wipe someone’s memory, so we can’t just do that every single time a mistake is made.”

“But why are we stuck in this country forever? I wanna see other people who can’t do magic! It sounds interesting!”

“They might make changes in the future,” she smiled. “I can’t answer every question, I’m not a very smart person.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Now, it’s almost 11. It’s almost time for you to go to school!” she said as she stood up. “Come on, let’s get ready!”

“Coming!” I replied, smiling too.

~ Not gonna lie this could actually be a beginning for a story-
~ 380 words

SWC Weekly #3 - Fantasy - Part 3.2
~ Science Fantasy
~ These are also random characters- I might also make them official if I like them enough though
~ This is really lazy, sorry :’]
~ I picked the names in like 1 minute ajsahja

“I’m right outside the Plavida Elementary school.” Basil said through his walkie-talkie. “Yes, I can see you! No, wait, a bit more to the left… Yes! Hello!”

Amethyst’s jet flyed around in the sky and smoothly landed in front of Basil. Amethyst opened the door and waved to her friend.

“Welcome back!” Basil said, waving back. “How was the ride here?”

“It was good. I didn’t run into any other vehicles on the way here. Although, I would like to learn how to teleport soon…”

Basil patted his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon.” he said with a thumbs up.

“You’ve been saying that all Summer.”

“It’s true though.” he shrugged. “Anyways, let’s head to the place.”

Amethyst nodded. Basil put down the backpack he was wearing and began to search through it.

“Where is it…” he muttered to himself. “I wish I hadn’t brought all that candy with me. Aha!” he exclaimed as he picked up an item that looked like a card of some sort. He closed his backpack and showed the card to Amethyst. “This is the card that Daniel was talking about. We just show it to the machine and BOOM! We’re inside!”

“You do know that you could’ve just used your wand to find it, right?”

“Ohh! Right. I forgot.”

“Anyways, what are we waiting for? Let’s go then!”

Basil nodded as he turned and ran behind the Elementary school. Amethyst followed him not far behind.

Basil’s eyes moved around the place, seeming to search for something. He turned towards a white machine near the wall. “Ready?” he asked in a dramatic voice.

“You’re acting as if we’re about to launch tons of insects to the world or something.” Amethyst said, rolling her eyes.

Basil chuckled. “Alright, let’s go!” he said, his voice back to normal.

He put the card on the machine, and a platform with a small fence appeared beneath them, just like what Daniel had told them. The platform slowly started to raise them into the air.

“Oh, this is fine.” Basil said, looking down at the platform. “I guess Daniel was exaggerating when he said it would be very fast-”

Suddenly, the platform shot upwards into the air, fast like a cheetah. The two yelled, not prepared for this extreme speed. Basil held on the fence, careful not to fall off.

After a few seconds, the platform started to slow down again. Basil sighed in relief.

“Hey, look at that!” Amethyst said, pointing behind him.

Basil turned around to see a giant airplane floating in the sky. They both looked at it in awe. The door opened, and out came their other friend.

“Hey!” Daniel waved at them. “Glad you guys made it. Come in!” he gestured inside. The two followed.

~ Once again I’m sorry it cut off really badly- I would’ve added more but I’m writing this on the day of the deadline (procastination is the worst)
~ I hope this is science fantasy themed?? I mainly focused on the sci-fi part more, sorry;;
~ 463 words

1001 for part 1
989 words for part 2
1193 words for part 3
3183 words in total

Ideas

Part 1
Connections
The Republic of Everlyn is located in a forest - a small country with many smaller clans, for example the Aurelion clan and the Cassend clan . Everlyn people have nature magic that lets them fend off predators that live in the forest. They are also affiliated with Snewn, a country ruled by a parliament that consists of a person from every household or multiple households if they apply to be represented by a single person. This makes the parliament quite big but more representative. Everlyn’s system is not that different from Snewn, but they have clans instead and each clan is ruled by one or two people, and they set their own rules and punishments.
Snewn and Everlyn are quite similar and this makes them allies - quite close allies, in fact. They are usually called the Wild or Wilder countries. For example, they are both developing civilizations that have magic that they have adapted over the centuries to survive in the mountains and forest. Everlynians have plant magic - the ability to grow and move plants at will. Snewnians sometimes have snow magic or temperature magic to survive in the harsh mountain climate. Their languages are also quite similar, unlike the City.
The City is what Everlyians and Snewnians call Astragon, a nearby city-state that hates Forest- and Mountain-dwellers. It’s called the City but it is more like a country and the other cities / city-states or their union is never spoken or talked about. They also hate magic, and every single magic user that is born there is either exiled or killed on the spot, depending on which type of magic they possess. People from the wilder countries are happy to accept them as their own though, even if it's dangerous to live in Everlyn or Snewn.
Narrative
I was born in the City. The City was not kind to me.
When I was born, my parents decided to keep me, even though they didn't know if I was a magic user. Only in a few years, once I turned five years old, did they start doubting my decision. They decided to turn me into a servant, to see if they can extract the magic out of me. I remained a servant, then I turned into a family outcast. I desperately wanted the magic to be gone, but it never went away. When I tried to make it disappear, it spun out of control. Once they saw that my magic was a part of me, well… They brought me to court. And the court decided to do what was done with most magic users.
Exile me.
So that’s how I was on the street, just six years old, in the woods, all alone. I have nature magic so I wouldn’t have had to go to the Mountains. The fact of my exile didn’t mean that I didn’t want to go back, though. I did, desperately, but after a few hours of wandering in the forest, I realised that I was not wanted. If I put one foot into Astragon once more, I would be killed on the spot. Any kind of magic users were not welcome in the City. Not even my parents wanted me any more. I remember how, at one point, I just sat down and cried. That was about when the Everlynians found me.
One of them noticed me sitting next to a tree and called his partner and the two came up to me. I wonder what they thought, with my City clothes and language. Maybe they knew I was an exile - after all, no City-dweller dared to put a foot in the Forest.
They welcomed me into their clan, Sterlim, with open arms. Even though I heard that Mountain- and Forest-dwellers hated City-dwellers, they seemed to like exiles. I picked up on their language soon enough, as it’s quite similar to my own, and learned how to control my powers. I easily fit in, sometimes even excelling at magic, with it being pent-up inside me for so long. Soon enough, I went to a Summit of the Wild - where Snewnians and Everlynians talked about what they did in the month spent after the last Summit. Not everyone went, only a few representatives from each clan. It was an honour.
If I was a stranger in the City, here, I was finally at home.
Part 2
What kind of magic is used in your world?
Soft magic system, with elemental types. A single elemental type seems to be used in one location, where it is most needed, as magic is an adaptation. Nature magic users are born in Everlyn, in order to use the surroundings to the user’s advantage. Temperature magic is common in Snewn to survive in the harsh climate. There are also many snow magic users in Snewn, who adapted to use their surroundings to help themselves. There are also some types like fire, but we don’t really know anything about them as they aren’t usually born in Everlyn or Snewn, but the city, where they are executed on the spot.
How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
The magic is generally used to fend off predatory creatures or to make homes. Thermokinesis and snow magic users usually team up to make warm homes made out of snow in Snewn, while forest magic users usually use their magic to hunt or to fight predators that are found in the woods. And the forest magic users’ abilities are mostly growing, shaping or healing plants and some can even communicate with plants . Temperature magic users can manipulate the temperature and where exactly their powers affect the temperature. Snow magic users can shape, freeze and melt snow in a fashion similar to nature magic users.
What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
The harshest laws about magic are in Astragon. Many years ago, the economy was crashing, and the people in charge of it decided to shift the blame on to the magic users. The government hates magic and tells children to hate it too - they do this by teaching them that magic is wrong in schools and kindergartens. But, even though Astragon and its inhabitants hate magic with all of their heart, magic users are still born there. If their magic is nature or snow / temperature, these are exiled, and executed otherwise. Snewn and Everlyn's laws are much more simple - do not use your magic to hurt someone unless it's for defence of self or others. The punishment is imprisonment for 1-3 years, more if judged to have done a lot of damage.
What is an important symbol of your world?
Astragon doesn’t really have a symbol, but the wilder countries have one for each - The Swan and the Goat of the Wild. These represent the countries where magic is in use. It is said that when a swan with a frozen feather flies up to the mountains and a mountain goat with one horn climbs down to the forest, two magic users are born, destined for greatness, with magic that can rival the gods themselves. This has happened only once, when a human was first born with magic.
What is the origin of your magic?
The magic was adapted in humans that live in the forest and mountains - this was when the Sean and the Goat of the Wild tale first happened, and two particularly strong magic users were born, and the reason why magic users are still born in the City, well… unknown to the City's inhabitants, they all are descendants of Snewnians, Everlynians and other magic users. When the Wild countries were just becoming countries, the rulers of both sent volunteers to make a settlement in a kind of opening. In a few years, some travellers arrived and the two groups mixed. Over the years, with nothing there to persevere them, their roots were eventually forgotten.
How can your world’s magic aid character development?
There are many ways. For example, a magic user born in the City may grow to hate magic and when the magic finally shows, they might end up hating themselves. When they are exiled, they may find people like them and finally understand that magic is not wrong, but the outlook of Astragonians is. This may lead to them resenting the City, and perhaps meeting another exile that was just like them and hating that exile as well. This can lead to even further character development as they can, after spending time with the exile, understand that it’s not the City-dwellers' fault that they hate magic, but the people that taught them to.
How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Roughly 90% of Forest- and Mountain-dwellers are magic users, and 6% of children born in the City have magic. Magic mostly shows between the ages 6-14, but usually shows twice before that - once when the child is born and once when the child is developing, along with the first words and first steps.
How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalised part of your world?
Forest- and Mountain-dwellers usually use magic instead of electricity so that they can afford some of the comforts that we have - heating and cooking using heat , building houses easier , travelling , and other things. Like electricity, people usually don’t feel the need to explain it. Like electricity, there are people who try to stay away from it at all costs. Also, the government uses magic as a scapegoat to explain all of the problems that they face.
What is a folk tale you have heard that involves magic, and how can you take inspiration from that tale?
Perhaps one of the folk tales that involves Baba Yaga. She’s a Russian folk character who specifies in, well, nature magic, but more the pagan kind, so she uses herbs and spoken word in order to lure her victims in . I could draw inspiration from her character to give the nature magic users the ability to use spoken word to control wooden objects or use wild herbs and give them magical properties for medicine.
What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
It really depends on the type. Obviously, snow magic users can’t control fire and temperature magic users can’t grow trees. On the other hand, nature magic users may be able to grow another wall of trees to defend a wooden house and move the house further away so it is left unscathed using roots under the ground and temperature magic users can stimulate the growth of a plant or burn something by making the temperature higher. Nature magic users also can’t control dead nature and things like rocks that weren’t alive in the first place. They also can’t give properties that aren’t influenced by someone else’s magic or aren’t healing to plants. Temperature magic users always have to focus on the temperature to actually control it . Snow magic users can control snow better than ice, and usually only make small quantities of ice at a time.
How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Depends on where. As I have previously mentioned, Astragonians are taught that magic is a curse from a young age. In the City, magic and magic users alike are hated. Snewnians and Everlynians, on the other hand, learn to use magic and it is quite normal to them, but it’s regarded as normal for non-magic users to be born as well. Of course, they are usually pitied, but they still usually achieve great things and some even become clan leaders or parliament representatives.
Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
Mountain- and Forest-dwellers use magic instead of electricity, chemicals and a lot of our mechanisms. For example, snow magic users and nature magic users can use their magic to make homes for themselves and temperature magic users can use their magic to heat those homes. This is done by a temperature magic user making an area around a plant warm and a nature magic user weaving that into a living plant. If the house is snow-based, the same process is repeated but now the magic is making the walls cold so that it doesn’t melt.
Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
Yes. Nature and snow magic users can feel a slight tingling sensation in the tips of their fingers, sometimes they can see what they are making before it’s there, and taste a slightly earth-like kind of liquid, and it’s cold if the person who is using magic is a snow magic user. The hearing and smelling senses are unaffected. When a temperature magic user is using their magic, the only altered sense is touch, particularly the feeling of heat/cold. They can feel themselves growing warmer or colder before their surroundings or the target area actually does.
Describe the popular infrastructure in your world.
There aren’t many roads on the ground in Everlyn but in the air, on the treetops. They are mostly made out of branches and decorated with leaves. In Snewn, on the other hand, the roads are on the ground, though sometimes are slightly higher so that Snewnians don’t have to get over the dangerous cliffs. They are made out of special snow that’s harder than normal snow so they do not collapse. The primary source of power of both countries is magic.
How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
In Astragon, the education system is relatively similar to our own, with children attending school from the age of 7 and learning maths, Astragonian, and many other subjects . In Everlyn, specific people from each clan teach children magic and how to survive, and sometimes even to read and count from what information they could find. In Snewn, a selected group of people, called “sages,” teach the children about what they know of the world and what they know of science. Everlynians sometimes get taught by the Sages on Summits.
What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
Chaos happens. When someone loses control of their magic, anything can happen - gigantic trees growing out of the pavement in the City , a sudden heat wave across a street and the next second, it’s so cold it starts snowing. Of course, the chaos can be limited, but only by the limitations of the magic itself.
What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
A magic user is, unlike popular opinion, someone who is able to use magic rather than someone who uses magic. Also, there are terms for specific magic users: an “evermag” is a nature magic user - it is short for EVERlyn MAGic user. A “snownmag” is a snow magic user and a “tempsmag” is a temperature magic user , and a no-mag is a non-magic user. Some more slang terms that relate to magic are “maginations” - the seeing of what a snow or nature magic user is trying to make before it is made and the feeling of temperature changes before they’re implemented that is typical of temperature magic users - as well as “products,” which are things that magic produces.
Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
It kind of affects the Wild’s governments, as in, magic is completely normal to them, so they rule and make new laws keeping in mind that they can use magic. For example, in Everlyn, they can get road building jobs done for free as anyone can do it . And then there’s the City’s government. They, ironically, have many more laws to regulate the use of magic, a big proportion of which I have mentioned many times.
What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic?
Once, a gigantic beastly creature tried to wipe out the whole population of Everlyn, but a group of fighter evermags took it down using their magic. Another time, a snownmag wanted to rule all of Snewn and made a snow golem, and temperature magic users melted that snow golem, then a few no-mags used ropes to capture the criminal and he remains in prison to date. Even in Astragon, a nature magic user once helped crops to grow during a harsh period of time.

Part 3
Dystopian Fantasy
It was another day.
Two guards walked a short person through the gates of a throne hall and threw them on the floor before the Queen.
Another day. Another normal day.
“Why is this one here?” the Queen asked, lips curling into a frown of distaste, before taking another sip of wine.
The prisoner scowled. “They weren’t obeying,” one of the guards explained.
“Weren’t obeying?” The queen put down her wine glass on a small table nearby.
“I won’t be a slave to people like you!” the short person spat.
“You are aware of the consequences, aren’t you?” The Queen tried to make eye contact, towering over the prisoner, but they quickly turned away.
“Yes, I am.” They started to stand up but were quickly pushed down by a kick in the back from a guard. “And I don’t care. If it means finally standing up to you and your… friends, I don’t care.”
Eyeing the prisoner, the Queen muttered, “I like this one. Feisty.” Chuckling, she said, “Those are usually the most fun to play with.”
Then - and this was the part the prisoner dreaded the most - she said, “Look into my eyes.”
“No.”
One of the guards raised an eyebrow. Captured people, however rebellious, usually obeyed the Queen nonetheless, even if they knew their minds might be controlled for aeons. The guard felt as though he knew some of the people that were brought in, but he knew that couldn’t be true - he didn’t even remember his own name, and the Queen brought him in after his sudden memory blackout.
Lost in thought, the guard never noticed the prisoner edging closer to the guards.
“I said,” the hall shuddered with the Queen’s anger, “look into my eyes!”
Reaching their tied hands to the guards’ ankles, the prisoner turned away. Then, suddenly they stood up, and the guards fell down backwards, gasps of surprise escaping their lips. Before the Queen had time to react, the prisoner cut the ropes on their wrists with one of the guards’ swords. Then, they snapped their fingers, a small spark escaping their fingertips. The drunken queen rose up but the prisoner - suddenly, the guard remembered their name, was it Riley? - already escaped.
The Queen’s control finally wearing off, the guard rose up, anger rising up inside of him. She would pay for what she did.
Hidden Worlds
Frankie was just hanging out in the local bookshop, trying to find a good spellbook to read in spare time - his magic was getting a bit rusty for an average 14-year-old, and he needed to learn something new. Muttering under his breath, he looked at the titles on the bookbinders.
“Cursing Evil Stepmothers and Mothers-In-Law - no, too specific, and I don’t have one, anyway - 100 First-Year Spells to Learn - too basic, and I’m a third-year - Rewriting The Future - my mum would kill me if I did that-”
“Oh, hey, Franks.”
The voice made him jump. Oh thank gods, it was just Sienna.
“What are you doing?” she asked, leaning on one of the bookshelves.
“Oh, just searching for a book.” He gestured towards the shelf. “I kind of want to volunteer for the patrol one day.”
“Mm, nice.” Sienna took a book out without looking and read the title. “Well, messing with the minds of humans so we’re not discovered isn’t really my cup of tea, but you do you, I guess. Is this what you were looking for?” She handed him the book.
Human Patrol Spells 101. “Yeah, thanks!” Frankie said. “And I’m good at it, so…”
“Yeah, right,” she rolled her eyes, but her elvish ear twitched nonetheless, showing curiosity.
“I can demonstrate, if you like.”
Sienna shrugged. “You can try.”
Without a word, Frankie started to stare her down. Slightly uncomfortable, Sienna swallowed and started to fidget with her dirty-blonde hair, but in a few seconds, her hand went limp. She started to stare blankly in the space in front of her, and then her eyes closed and she nearly collapsed on the floor, but luckily, Frankie caught her. There was a plush chair nearby, where he placed his sleeping elf friend. If this was a human, he would’ve erased their memories of his world and replaced them with something else.
Then, Frankie went back to choosing some more books.
In about twenty minutes, Sienna woke up. The first thing she did was call Frankie on her phone.
“Franks? Franks, that was so cool!”
Science Fantasy
My mother said she knew the world before the war. Back then, magic was everywhere, apparently, and not oppressed so that we couldn’t show ourselves in the city centre. I sometimes wish that I also knew the world like that.
Or maybe it was a myth?
Looking out of the window, I could see overgrown stone walls on which the newest recruits were practising. One of them managed to completely wipe out the vines with her shadows. I applauded as she looked at her friends who gave her impressed glances.
Perhaps it was worth it for me to get some training as well.
I stood up from my bed and walked out of the door, stepping on the dead grass . I could see the techs’ city far away, shining with neon lights.
You see, the Techs and Mages were two sides in a war - the Techs had technology on their side, and we had magic. Of course, we used technology since it’s practical but we tend to use magic more. The Techs were much more powerful than us at first, with their guns and numbers, and eventually, they drove us away. But now we are preparing to strike back.
Pulling out my e-map, I thought back to locations where Tech spies were last spotted. I needed to find out where it was safe to train, after all.
Looking at the red spots, I planned my route. It seemed like the park was safe, so I headed there.
Halfway on my journey, I heard a shot.
I spun round, fingers lighting up to shoot fire at them. It was a figure of someone roughly my height, trembling with fear.
Suddenly, their mask fell off.
They had a young face - couldn’t be much older than me - and it was frightened. They held out their gun, ready to shoot, since they missed the first time. They could have hurt me… or go further and hurt my family… but could they?
They looked so frightened.
I held my hand out in front of me, pointing at the Tech, as if to fire at them.
“Go,” I said.
The frightened teenager nodded and hurried away. I continued on my journey, heart still racing. We were headed in the same direction but none of us noticed that.
This would be the start of a strange friendship, but neither of us realised that at this point.
Conclusion
Connections - 314, narrative - 432, part 1 overall - 746
Part 2 - 1952
Dystopian fantasy - 397, hidden worlds - 353, science fantasy - 425, part 3 overall - 1175
Overall - 3873

cabin wars - 341 words

Once there was a land, in which there were three forbidden words. You see, each of these forbidden words cannot but be named, for they are indeed forbidden. However, these three words are often instrumental to writing, especially when one is attempting to write anything at all literary. That said, when one is simply rambling about a tragic loss of these three words, life becomes much, much easier for said writer. This writer does so happen to have a pen name. Alternatively, one could call it an online nickname, a convenient alias for when she wishes to remain anonymous. This writer often goes by Moonlit, after a certain moon’s beautiful light that shines down upon a world, giving it a moonlit effect. Moonlight is known for its calming, not to mention aesthetically pleasing properties, often offering a scene in which it is introduced to a new, not to mention welcome ambience, allowing a viewer a new perspective on what is happening. Aside from a handful of wonders of moonlight, Moonlit is currently rambling away in order to reach her necessary 333 words in her writing for Luna’s recent war. Luna’s recent war was a well earned gift, a reward for Thriller’s mercy during this cabin wars. Last cabin wars, Thriller had a grand time betraying almost all of their allies, including horror, to Luna’s dismay. Fortunately, it would appear that Luna has come to an agreement with Birdi, which naturally extends to Moonit, as she is one of Birdi’s cos. Luna may ask Thriller for any war she wishes for, no matter thy hour. In exchange, Thriller may ask likewise of Luna. Luna is known for staying up until absurd hours of a morning, which she appears to find quite fun. She also appears to take great joy in others' frustration as they attempt to convince her to sleep. Making a deal with Luna, particularly about sleep, tends to end poorly. Many, including Birdi, would eat their hats, so to speak, if Luna actually went to bed at a reasonable hour.

and a bunch of other cabin wars proof -

464 words of description

The truly stunning pink flamingo sock lay on the floor, as out of place as a penguin in a desert, or perhaps on an elephant in Antarctica. Despite its obvious failure to fit in effectively with its surroundings, the bright pink sock did add a welcome splash of color to the otherwise gray and boring room.

The walls were painted a dreary off white, so irritatingly close to pure white, and yet somehow light years away, as if the goal of perfection was so far out of reach, they had simply given up. They were smooth to the eye, and yet if one were to slowly rub one’s fingers over them, one would find that they are in fact littered with miniscule bumps. While not obviously bumpy from away, the wall’s texture certainly isn’t sleek, like a sheet of metal, up close.

In the center of the room lies a sleet and polished wooden table top, its gray surface matching drearily with the walls surrounding it. Being wood, hundreds, if not thousands of individual lines and rings run through it, displaying age on its surface that had one one and inmost core. The wood had been sanded to perfection before being carefully sealed, giving it a glossy sheen as it reflects some of the artificial light. Unfortunately, it's far too foggy to see anything in. Unlike the walls, the table’s surface is smooth to the touch, including its slightly rounded corners. This table has the classic four legs, one in each of its evenly spaced out corners, supporting the table top, as well as any variety of potential content, easily.

Beneath the polished table light a gorgeous abstractly patterned rug, its image it depicts is not exactly clear. Regardless of what the artist was attempting to display, its colors of light gray, black, off white, and the occasional deep red fit beautifully with the aesthetic of the room, however dark and dreary it may be, there’s no denying the calm atmosphere it brings. It may not be the softest rug on the planet, yet its certainly effective, offering shelter from the bitter cold of the air conditioned floor board surrounding the rug.

The sock, of course, lays just outside the shadow of the table, its bright blue and green background standing out like a duck in a lake full of geese against the dull abstractly patterned rug. In some ways, the sock made the space feel more lived in, yet in others, it was simply out of place, a spall bit of chaos slipping through the cracks of a vacuum that seemed to attract all chaos, leaving only the orderly and unchaotic behind. In any case, the sock itself was tiny, perhaps meant to fit a young child, as its bright and unique color

1004 - non-fi's war with extra challenge

Moonlit closed her eyes, letting herself relax into the pillows behind her, careful to keep her head propped up so she could still see the laptop screen in front of her. Another cabin had just been kind enough to war Thriller, an excellent source of motivation to get writing. She needed to write one thousand words, ideally quickly so that her cabin could continue receiving wars and earning more points. Pulling up a new google docs tab, she began to write, letting the memories of her day take over.

Eight o’clock. Moonlit had just rolled out of bed, reluctant to leave behind the comfort and warmth her soft blankets brought. She had been perfectly snug, like a caterpillar wrapped up in its cocoon, peacefully sleeping as her body regained its energy and slowly grew. She was happy at the height she was, around five and a half feet tall, and honestly, she didn’t want to be any taller. Sadly for her, the height just kept coming. If only she could give away a few inches to those who desperately wished for them… alas, life wasn’t exactly fair. That statement held true as she threw on a hoodie – her alumni hoodie that her school board had gifted her upon graduating eighth grade – and grabbed a pair of socks, attempting to spare her poor, innocent, freezing feet for the treacherous cold of the air conditioning. She was grateful for the exquisite system when the Rift decided to act up, occasionally bringing devastating heat waves and oddly placed sand storms, but for the most part, it all seemed rather pointless to her. She was a Bearer, after all – should could create a bubble of controlled climate around her – or anyone else, for that matter – with a snap of her fingers, or, if she was feeling really lazy, a wave of her hand. Though, she thought, perhaps it would be of more use to others without such hard earned mastery over the Rift. The Rift was quite a force to be reckoned with, and not one easily tamable at that, though tamable was the wrong word. The Rift was a lot like a lion, furious and full of energy, bursting with incredible strength, and could never be ‘tamed’. The Rift certainly wasn’t her pet – if anything, it was she was a pet, a mere puppet of this grand place she was blessed with the treasures of. It was her responsibility to know this place, her responsibility to guide others through this place, and yet it certainly was not her job, nor her place, to attempt to control it in any way. She could work with the magic surrounding the Rift, and gently coax it to do her bidding, yet it was not hers, nor anyone else’s to command. It may not be a living thing, at least to her knowledge, but the magic that held it together seemed to animate it, giving it almost a mind of its own. Still, not quite. Patterns, more than anything, shaped the Rift, a delicate swirl of balance and chaos. She could expect certain things to happen at certain times or be in certain places, yet rarely could she know both. Unfortunate, in certain circumstances, yet incredibly necessary in others. No one could ever assume control over the Rift. If they could, that would be an insurmountable amount of power – the Rift held access to people deepest darkest secrets, their hopes and their dreams, their memories and thoughts, and so, so much more that even she could begin to imagine.

But enough rambling, Moonlit thought, as she continued to type wildly, her fingers dancing across her keyboard like ballerinas across a stage. It was time to move on to what she actually did today.

8:05 am - Moonlit strolled down to the kitchen, having finally brushed her hair. Instead of the tangled mess it had once been mere moments ago, it was now braid back neatly – perhaps not complicated nor unique, but rather simple and effective. It wasn’t like she was doing anything today anyways. As she walked into the kitchen, she was surprised to find Birdi already sitting there, sipping a glass of orange juice and scrolling through her phone. She appears to have already consumed one, quite possibly two of the donuts of the box sitting casually on the table in front of her.

Looking up from her phone, Birdi exclaimed, “Good morning Moonlit!”

Yawning, Moonlit stumbled to a chair, sinking down into it before replying, “Good morning Birdiii!” Ugh, she was definitely not a morning person. Perhaps coffee would do her some good, but of course, Moonlit hadn’t had a sip of the disgusting stuff since she was a small child. It was atrocious to the point where she couldn’t stand it, even if it was supposed to help people wake up in the morning. She reached for a donut, her hand hovering indecisively over the box before finally snatching up a chocolate frosted donut covered in sprinkles. Always a safe choice. “Anyways, how are you?” she asked, already devouring her donut. Wow, was she hungry…

“I’m pretty good!” Birdi exclaimed, smiling. “A bit busy, but guess what? It’s cabin wars!!” When Moonlit merely yawned, Birdi frowned. “Are you ready to war some allies?!” she asked, clearly hoping for a more excited reaction.

“Of course!” Moonlit answered, attempting to stifle yet another yawn. “Sorry, I’m definitely not a morning person,” she laughed. “Can we betray fan-fic this time?”

Birdi frowned. “Well… they probably wouldn’t not war myth if we did,” she answered, shifting to her thinking face.

“B-bu-but,” Moonlit stuttered, putting on her pleading face. “I want to war fan-fi! I’m only missing three cabin betrayals…” She decided not to mention the fact that she would never betray Myth or Script, their most beloved allies.

“We can’t,” Birdi answered, her expression unmoving.

“But… what if I warred them at the end?” Moonlit asked, hoping this suggestion would be more reasonable. “They can’t war myth if cabin wars are over…”

477 words of description

Delicate lines of shadow and light dance across a meticulously folded curtaining, bringing its otherwise stoic maroon curtains. They hang delicately from an expertly crafted steel bar, a precise balance between weight and length. These curtains hang like a spider web from a wall, trickling downwards gradually, hanging on with all of their might. In other ways, the curtains are much more like a waterfall, as they seem to flow endlessly, pooling as they reach the ground like a bed of water.

Fluffy pillows dot a flat bed found roughly 3.5 feet off the ground, the perfect height for falling back upon after a long, tiring day. These pillows are as fluffy as clouds straight from the heavens, and bounce back like trampoline springs, only not nearly as aggressive. These pillows hold a silky texture, a perfect balance between soft and slick for the head to read upon.

The lake ripples gently in the wind, its surface texture shifting in unison with every shift of the night air, dancing around like a ballerina across a stage. It reflects there dark night sky, hundred of thousands of glittering stars dancing along its glittering surface, never sitting still, like a child in a school room. Trees dot the shore line of the lake, their branches overwhelmed by budding leaves well on there way to bursting into full life and color. A handful of flowers grow near the tree roots, their petals a beautiful medley of burst colors, a happy reminiscence of the summer long past and a joyful reminder of what was soon to come.

The floorboards lie behind a delicate woven treasure, a hand crafted rug. The rug is bright and colorful, its color weaving in and out in a playful dance of sorts, not one of them pushing for more than its rightful amount of space, each one instead working in perfect harmony, offering a symphony of new sensations for the eyeballs to explore. Flowers spin in and out of the scene painted by the fine threads dancing through the rug’s surface, some of the vibrant yellow, others dark, melancholy purple, and still others blood red, bright and pure. Its intricacy is inspiring, offering a unique perspective on the perception of spring, a fabulous season of growth and rebirth. It portrays spring as such, depicting the flowers weaving in and out of each other like the strings that make them up, only instead of laying on a border of dark pink, these flowers rest along long vines trailing across a beautiful wooden fence set against a bright morning sunrise. The fence, while mostly obscured, appears to be finely crafted, both in string and image. Despite the difficult challenge of weaving the rings that identify wood, each line is perfectly set to accurately represent the image of true wood, full of lines showcasing age and knots protruding.