SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022

Whirlygig

SWC main cabin daily #6 - the language of flowers
November 6, 2022
flowers used: daisy (innocence), rhododendron (danger), magnolia (love of nature), dahlia (grief), and snowdrop (hope)

Maliah walked quietly through her backyard. She tiptoed through the grass wet with dewdrops, padded past the towering pine trees, and pushed her way through the thick cluster of brambles at the property line. It was still morning; dew was still wet on the ground, mist hovered in the air, and the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Maliah was alone.
Once she had squeezed her way through the brambles, Maliah took off at a run through the tall grasses, her bare feet slapping against the cold ground. There was still a chill in the morning air when Maliah reached her secret place. The secret place, or so she called it, was a clearing in the lonely woods where birds chirped and crickets hopped and the ground was covered with daisies. In a world that was too big and too wild and too loud, the secret place was the only thing that belonged to Maliah and Maliah alone.
Maliah was six years old at the time, and still believed the world was at her fingertips.
She sat on the ground and ran her fingers through the daisies, watching in wonder as their yellow-and-white heads bobbed around in the air.

Maliah had finally finished unpacking. Her twin-size bed and squeaky mattress had once fit perfectly into her well-loved room; now they felt too big in a bedroom that still smelled of dust. She had tacked her pictures and posters up onto the walls, and where they once clustered together, there were now vast empty spaces on the wood-paneled walls. She closed the door behind her and stepped carefully down the stairs, still in her fuzzy socks.
Maliah pulled her shoes on. The ground was more rocky in their new place, her parents had said, and there were snakes and sticks that could hurt her feet. Maliah didn’t tell anyone where she was going.
The afternoon sun filtered through the oak trees in her new backyard. The soft soil made no sound underneath Maliah’s feet. It was quiet, just as she liked it. There was so much moss here; huge clumps of it, and it hung from the trees, clung to the rocks, and spread along the ground. It was springy, and green, and alive. Gray, craggy rocks were everywhere. Some were small and some were huge, and Maliah decided that she was going to climb to the top of each one someday.
Then, Maliah found something that took her breath away. It was a rhododendron bush, something she’d read about but never seen before. It was bigger in real life, and something about the way it stood there made Maliah feel like it was wiser than she would ever be. Its leaves were green and glossy, and all over it were soft green buds. Maliah wondered what was inside. Curiosity got the better of her; she began to peel off each layer of the bud, eagerly awaiting what she’d find in the middle.
Nothing.
Maliah’s face fell with disappointment, and the bush itself seemed to shudder and shiver. She didn’t know how she knew, but Maliah was somehow aware that that flower she’d killed would never bloom again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Then, she saw it. Curled on the roots of the rhododendron, a rattlesnake. It looked at her, poised perfectly to strike, forked tongue flickering out of its lips. Maliah didn’t think, just ran, ran through the forest, ran through the back door, ran into her mother’s waiting arms.
Maliah was ten, and for the first time, her safe place wasn’t so safe anymore.

Maliah was fifteen when her family moved again, this time to a place with ‘better jobs’ and ‘more opportunities.’ A ‘better place for Maliah to grow up in.’ Nobody had consulted Maliah about her feelings on the matter, and she hadn’t argued; just packed up her clothes and her posters and her rock collection and gotten in the car.
Their new home was a row house with a large grassy yard, and looking at the sea of suburbia around her made Maliah feel suffocated. She missed her secret place; missed her forest, even with all its dangers. Maliah didn’t even bother to unpack, just dumped her duffel and boxes on the floor of her new room and went outside, still barefoot.
The grass in the yard felt wrong. It was too prickly and too itchy and nothing like the soft grass her feet were used to. The air around Maliah smelled like exhaust, probably from the busy road her house was next to. The only thing Maliah liked about this new place was the magnolia. According to her books, magnolias had been around since ancient times, and this one seemed no different. It was smack dab in the middle of the yard, far enough from the house not to be too dangerous but not close enough to the power lines to warrant getting trimmed. It was the most beautiful thing Maliah had ever seen, in its full glory with lily-white flowers adorning its branches. Maliah loved it, if nothing else in this new world.
Maliah grabbed a branch and hauled herself up into the tree, climbing higher and higher, the movements as natural to her limbs as walking or running. Reaching the top, she felt as if she could touch the blue sky above her. The world faded away, leaving nothing but the clouds and the tree and Maliah.
Maliah was fifteen, and the world she loved had been taken away from her.
At least she had the magnolia tree.

Maliah stood at the cemetery, a bouquet of flowers clasped to her chest. She had traveled the path to the grave so many times that she barely had to think about where to go, yet it still hurt the same each time she came.
In her opinion, he had been buried in the most beautiful part of the cemetery. It was certainly the quietest place; all the way at the back with the older stones that had been there for centuries. The grave was under a tree, and seeing it made Maliah feel more at home than she’d been for a long time.
Reaching the grave, she kneeled down on the hard earth and placed the dahlias on the gravestone. No matter how many times she’d done this, Maliah still felt the same grief. She couldn’t stop tears from falling, but there was something beautiful about them as they rolled down the petals of the dahlias and stained the gravestone a darker gray. Maliah pushed herself back to a standing position, but didn’t leave yet. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but what do you say to a dead person? Maliah instead said the same thing she said every time, and would probably keep saying for all times to come.
“I love you, dad,” she whispered, and walked out of the cemetery with tears still on her face.

Maliah was eighteen now, and the first semester of college had been a nightmare. She was surrounded by professors who cared and students her age, but she had neve felt more alone in her life. She didn’t talk to anyone, and did her best to smile weakly at the kind souls who waved or smiled at her as she walked to her next class. Winter had been the worst; Maliah cried almost every night. The winter had made her the kind of person others called ‘depressed’ or ‘struggling.’ When she was younger, Maliah would have flinched at these names, but now she didn’t even care.
She was thankful that spring was coming soon; her mother had said sunlight would be good for her in the last letter Maliah had received. Maliah couldn’t help but agree, and waited impatiently for the snow to melt and the flowers to bloom again.
Now, she walked across campus. Even though March had officially started, it still felt like January. Maliah scowled at the cold as she pulled her cable-knit sweater and gray scarf closer, hoping to keep out the chill. Had she mentioned how much she hated winter?
She was about to enter the lecture hall when something caught her eye. Poking out from the frost was… a snowdrop? Maliah walked over to the mulch on the side of the steps to get a closer look. Two snowdrops… three… five… Maliah couldn’t help but smile at the little flowers’ tenacity. Here they were, blooming during the coldest time of the year, when most nature was hibernating safe in its brown-stemmed shells.
Maliah was eighteen, and for the first time in a while, she had smiled. Maybe if these flowers could bloom… maybe she could too.

1450 words

authors note - o_o another daily that got too long for its own good? nahhhh couldn't be… uhm yeah idk what else to say but here you have it! honestly it feels quite similar to a lot of other stories I've written structure-wise but it's different because it has fLoWeRs :mind_blown: :sparkles: that's it ig enjoy lol oh and ty alba for making the daily you're the coolest :)))

Last edited by Whirlygig (Nov. 6, 2022 14:34:52)

fuzzycakes11

total words: 974
cora, fan-fi
daily, nov. 6

I get the text two minutes after waking up.

luna-not-lovegood: hey
so this is prob an awkward question
but
i was kinda wondering if youd like to go on a date??
i have a cute idea if youre open to it
sorry if you dont like me like that and ive just made things awkward

My eyes are still blurry with sleep, and for a second I think I’m hallucinating, considering the fact that I’ve dreamed about her kissing me or asking me out for the past week.
Okay, maybe the past two weeks. No judgement.

me: actually i would absolutely love that
what’s your cute idea?

luna-not-lovegood: yay!!!
okay so you know that little rose garden/flower garden a few blocks from school

me: ohhhh yeah it’s in bloom right now!

luna-not-lovegood: yeah!!! so i was thinking we could go over there, but first get hot cocoa (black & burn is open today and has a sale) and then walk over to the garden with our cocoa

me: why are you so smart
that sounds amazing :3

luna-not-lovegood: yay!!
what time works? (or day if you cant do it today)

me: i think today should work!
what about like 10 or 10:30?

luna-not-lovegood: okay! 10 works for me
see you soon :]

me: <3

I turn my phone off and leap out of bed. What do you wear to a date? Why don’t I know this? This feels like common sense.
I decide to settle on something casual: A long-sleeve shirt under my favorite pair of overalls, and tall socks. It’s fairly cool out today, for mid-spring, at least.
I have about half an hour ‘till I should leave to arrive on time, so I decide to go downstairs and have a little food.
At 9:50, I pull on my shoes and grab my phone, with some money for the cocoa and a set of keys, just in case my parents aren’t home when I get back.
“I’m leaving! Bye!” I call. No one responds. I pull the front door shut behind me, and set off towards the cafe.
As predicted, I arrive with two minutes to spare. Luna’s often late, so I take a seat at one of the outdoor tables and pull out my phone. I was in the middle of a really good fanfic last night, and finally went to be at 2 in the morning after reading almost all of it. Sleep is not a priority.
“Claire!” A voice calls out suddenly. I look up, startled out of my reading. Luna’s waving at me as she walks up.
I stand up to greet her. “Hey!”
“Sorry I’m a little late. I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” Luna says with an apologetic smile.
“You’re good! I was only waiting for a few minutes, ha-ha,” I reassure her.
“Oh good. So, shall we get cocoa?” Luna asks. I grin.
“Yeah!”
The cafe’s not crowded, so it only takes a few minutes to get our drinks before we’re on our way to the garden.
It’s a sight to behold. Packed with flowers, and winding paths that lead around and around, along with signs naming the flowers and what they mean. There’s an elderly couple holding hands a few feet from the entrance, sitting on a bench.
“I didn’t realize the flowers had meanings,” I say as we enter. Luna grins.
“Really? You have a lot to learn, then,” she says with a glint in her eye. I can tell I’m going to know way more about flowers by the end of this than the average person should.
Luna grabs my hand, and I blush, but she doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully. It’d be embarrassing for her to know how infatuated I’ve been with her.
“Okay. So this is dahlia,” Luna says, pointing to a pretty pink flower that branches out from the middle. “They essentially means ‘yours ‘till the end’.” As she says this, she looks at me, before realizing that I’m already staring at her, and we both look away suddenly, red.
“Um. Anyway,” she says with a breath, pulling me along to a collection of dainty yellow flowers, more stem and leaf than actual flower. “This are trefoils. They signify revenge,” Luna says with a smirk.
“Violent. I like,” I say, which makes her laugh, which makes me blush. Again. “Ooh, what’s that one?” I ask suddenly, now pulling her along to another flower, similar to the last, except a color close to purple instead of yellow.
“Oh! This one’s a lucerne. It means life,” Luna says, eyes sparkling. “One of my favorites.”
She pulls me along, pointing out other various flowers, like the ice plant–which, personally, is my favorite.
We reach a little nook hidden behind a fountain with a bench next to it.
“Wanna sit?” Luna asks, almost shyly. I nod, and we take a sit. I sit and stare into my cup, pretending to be distracted.
It’s awkward, I won’t lie. It’s weird to go on a date with your friend.
“Sorry,” I say at the exact same time she starts to say something. Her brow furrows.
“Wait, what are you apologizing for?” she asks, confused.
“I don’t know. I’m new to all this–all this dating stuff. I’m bad at it,” I say, shrugging. Luna shakes her head fiercely.
“No, you’re not! I mean, I have no idea what I’m doing either,” Luna admits with a little laugh, and in that exact moment, I have an extremely strong urge to kiss her. She appears to be thinking along the same lines, because the next words out of her mouth are, “Can I kiss you?”
I don’t have any words, which is unlike me. Instead, I just nod, and lean in. Our lips meet, and it’s absolutely everything I’ve ever imagined my first kiss to be.

thanks for reading!! <3

Last edited by fuzzycakes11 (Nov. 6, 2022 14:40:55)

piggy_puppy

SWC Daily: November 6
839 words

The sign was written in a harsh blueish-black ink that matched the frowns of the employees that bustled in and out of the doors, carrying boxes and crates full of who-knows-what. The building had a modern architecture look full of sharp angles and flat, geometric shapes.
The Private Experimentation and Research Museum of Modern Botany
Floria had never been inside. Or considered it. Or even thought about how the museum had seemed to pop up overnight and now was the leading employer on the island where she lived. Now that she thought about it, it was odd how it had been built out of seemingly nowhere. The island had a tiny population with barely any chain restaurants or companies.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” a snippy voice asked from behind her.
Floria jumped to see one of the museum employees, glaring at her. “Oh- um nothing, go ahead.” She moved out of the way of the revolving doors that led to the inside of the Museum, where she had been staring up at the sign.
The employee rolled his eyes and stomped past her. Floria took her chance and followed him through the revolving doors and into a gigantic square room, leading off to other rooms. It smelled like soil and herbs and the very subtle smell of smoke. Hundreds of scientists and botanists milled around the room and stood around long tables, covered in plants.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked. A tall, frowning scientist had cut Floria off. She wore a long, white lab coat and was holding a box that seemed to be growing several short, yellow flowers.
“Oh no, I'm alright.” Floria said. “I was just exploring the museum.” She turned to walk away, but the scientist had already grabbed her arm and started pulling her down the hallway.
Floria yelled in protest, but none of the scientists surrounding them even glanced in her direction. “They're not going to help you,” the scientist hissed. “They've been working with the meadowsweets for weeks now.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Floria asked, twisting her arm in the scientist's grasp.
The scientist rolled her eyes and turned to face her. Floria could see her nameplate read ‘Elaney’. “I'm not surprised you don't know. We've been waiting for weeks for someone to experiment with the Japanese Kerrias.” She gestured to the flowers in her other hand.
“I don't understand! What are you doing?” Floria said.
Elaney pulled her into one of the rooms abruptly and slammed the door behind her. She guided Floria to a chair on the far end of the room, and set the flowers in the side table. "We've been experimenting with the effects that flowers have on people exposed to them. Turns out that certain flowers do in fact, have such an effect. The meadowsweets, for example, give people a sense of uselessness, so we administer it to most of the scientists who have too much potential… for certain things.“
”The employees, the ones you probably saw coming in and out of the buildings, move xanthiums and borages, in hopes of them reaching the outer parts of the island, where more of the population can… experience it. You may have noticed an increase in abrasive personality. Of course, that means that most of the workers are exposed to that as well. But what can you do?“ Elaney went on, laughing softly. ”But, we haven't been able to test out the Japanese Kerrias yet. We're unable to use it on someone, who's already under the effects of another flower and you're already conveniently right here.“
”No!“ Floria yelled, but it was too late. Elaney had already pressed one of the yellow flowers onto her tongue. Floria felt her insides wrench and then… she felt nothing at all. In fact, everything around her seemed to lose its pigment. It's meaning. It was like she was watching from across the room, not really in her body at all.
”How do you feel?“ Elaney asked, smoothly.
”I dunno.“ Floria heard her mouth say. ”When did I get here? Where is here anyway?“
”You're doing perfect,“ Elaney said. ”In fact, this is just the reaction I was looking for.“
”Alright.“ Floria said, without thinking. Every thought she had seemed to vanish the moment it appeared. ”What happened? When did I get here?“
”That's enough,“ Elaney replied calmly. ”You're not used to it, but you will soon."
And Floria understood. This was… some sort of crude experiment. To change people… with flowers. To change her. This didn't sit right with her at all.
“Pretty flowers,” she heard herself say, pointing at the rest of the Kerrias on the table.
Elaney nodded agreeably as she busied herself on the other end of the room. Floria- or at least, Floria's body was chatting to her absentmindedly, but everything she said immediately lost its meaning.
Floria didn't know how any of this worked, but she knew she had to stop it. And, she may have just figured out how.

-meow-L-cat-

Revised Daily 6/11:

Dear Anastasia,

How are you? I hope you are well. Please find enclosed flowers.

Kind regards,

Lilith.

[Anastasia lifted up the envelope and a single gillyflower fell out. She skimmed through her memory to see what it meant… envy? No, that was geranium… Or friendship? No, that was periwinkle… “How did I get periwinkle and gillyflower messed up?” she thought as she got out her notebook of flower meanings.

Gillyflower meant… affection.

Oh.]

Dear Lilith,

Thank you for the flowers you sent. I enjoyed them. I thought that you would enjoy some flowers to be sent back.

Kind regards,

Anastasia.

Dear Lilith,

Would you like to meet with me at the town square at 10:00 AM on the next Saturday?

Anastasia.

Dear, Anastasia,

I wish you a merry Christmas. Would you like to meet me at the town square on the 24th at 12 PM in order to celebrate?

Lilith.

Dear, Lilith,

I found a house for us on Amwell Street. I hope to see you there to see it. When are you free to see it?

Anastasia.

P.S.: Thank you for the peach blossom. Please find a flower enclosed in the envelope.

Dear, Anastasia,

I am free on the 18th.

Lilith.

Dear Feodore,

Me and Anastasia invite you to our house. We hope you are able to come.

Lilith.

[Feodore knocked on the door of his sister’s house. He knew that she lived there with her girlfriend. Thinking about it, he probably was the only one who knew that.

In a few seconds, the door opened, to reveal Lilith standing there.

“Welcome,” she smiled and stepped aside.

The first thing that Feodore noticed about the house that there were many flowers. There were pressed roses and pansies and dahlias in frames and boquetes in vases.

“Admiring our flowers?” a voice asked and Feodore jumped.

“Anastasia, please, never do that again. God. But, yes. There are… a lot of them.”

“Well, Feodore, the flowers are the ones we sent to each other through the years. We pressed them and when we came to live with each other, we have framed them because we no longer needed to pass flowers to each other,” she explained. “Does that make sense?”

“Well, all I see is two years' worth of flirting,” Feodore deadpanned.

That sent Anastasia into a laughing fit. “That too.”

She pointed to a framed boquet with another flower at the side. It was a gillyflower, and the boquet consisted of pansies, ambrosia and fern.

“This was our love confession,” Anastasia smiled. “Lilith sent me a gillyflower and I sent her a small boquet back.”

“How did that fit into an envelope?”

“I don’t know.”]

-kreatif

dailyOnce upon a time, long long ago, on the coast of Scotland, there lived a witch. An evil witch. The witch was only evil when she had to be. She was destroyed by envy, heartbreak, and loss. The witch strolled out to her garden, sitting down at the edge of the marble fountain. Her lover left her for some crusty peasant. If only she could.. get revenge. The witch got up from the fountain and dusted herself off. She grabbed a basket woven of reed and proceeded to waltz into her lavish flower garden. Out of the witches pocket she pulled out a little potions handbook. The witch would need to find dahlias, everlastings, geraniums, and nightshades. She tucked the handbook back into her dress pocket. There by the river was a pink dahlia, you could see hints of orange and yellow. The witch rushed over and picked a bundle of dahlias. Three more flowers to go. A bright orange flower caught her eye, that was the everlasting flower! Next to the everlasting was the red geraniums, bright like cherries. The witch laughed in glee. The last flower she needed was the nightshade. One of the deadliest flowers, and one that would make her evil spell work. After about an hour of hiking she finally found it, it was evening and the sun had set. The nightshade was a bright purple and glowed in the dark, as if calling her to take it. The witch snatched the nightshade, burning her fingers, and evil laughed. She brought her portable cauldron and started cooking the spell on the spot. The witch threw some water in the cauldron along with dahlias, which meant “yours till the end”, everlastings “attachment”, and geraniums “envy”. The potion looked like a deep purple. The spell was about to come true. The witch delicately sprinkled the flowers of the nightshade laughing. The witch would finally get her revenge. The witch said some ancient dark spells and she could see the potion spell turning a different color, meaning it was working. On the other coast of Scotland was the peasant. Slowly, slowly, she was turning into a blade of grass. Her lover would forget her like the witch. The peasant begged for mercy but the witch couldn’t hear her, because she was on the other coast of Scotland. The peasant fully turned into a blade of grass and the potion spell had vanished. The witch laughed heartily, pleased with herself. No one would ever mess with her again. The end.

RoseReef

02 | weekly no. 1: letters
word count: 1670/1400

Disclaimer: before you read this, please note that I do not hold grudges or dislike any cabins- this was mostly for fun. All of the cabins a crazily cool, please don't take anything I say personally.

♕ Adventure | 121/100
Dear Adventure,
By far one of the coolest genres created, some of my favorite adventure books are The Chronicles of Narnia (specifically Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and The Silver Chair), The Hobbit, Time Castaways Book #1, The One and Only Ivan, and many more. How the kingdom? Anyone going out on crazy adventure, any brave warriors? Slayed any dragons yet? Found hidden coves or large hoards of gold, silver, and precious metals? Rings that could make you control fire, water, earth, be invisible? Whatever you're doing, good luck embarking on your new adventure! Oh way by the way, If you d find any rings, please let me be the first to know.

Your ally,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

☾ Dystopian | 108/100
Dear Dystopian.
Firstly, very cool name. Realm? Very cool. Dystopian? Cool. Taking Lokito? Not cool. Cabin colors? Cool. Dawn? AWESOME. Lisa? AWESOME. Gabbie? AWESOME. Matching pfps? Neat. Not having a strong defensive line when Bi-fi kidnaps Lokito? Yay, makes the process easier. Also, why did Dystopian just so happen to be enemies with Bi-fi? If we were siblings, we wouldn't have to kidnap Lokito. Okay that's a lie; we'd still kidnap Lokito, just maybe with a tiny less uhm… yelling involved. Either way, you guys have a really really cool cabin. I can't get over those cabin colors.

Wors- I-I mean best of luck,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

⚙ Fantasy | 184/100
Dear Fantasy.

I'll give you this, I have never seen such an un-pixelated thumbnail! Jeez, who knew scratch was capable of creating such a thing! No matter how much I edit it, download, re-screenshot I can't seem to get one. Back on topic pft, are there any hippogriffs in the sanctuary? If there are, could you give me the key? You can trust me with it *wink wink*, I definitely won't use it to steal every possession you have! Pretty pleeeease? If not, let me give you an apple! A really shiny artificial looking one. No? Don't worry it's totally not poisonous. Enough with the backstabbing, I do have to say the thumbnail is seriously cool, the house is really detailed and I love it, not to mention the leaders did an awesome job on the storyline. Be sure to snap a pic of the creatures for me!

G'luck,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

P.S. why did I have a strong urge to start this off with “When I was six years old, I decided I wanted to play the piccolo-” - from the bad guys asdjfasdf-

✑ Mystery | 102/100
Dear Mystery,

Every good story has one. Harry Potter, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings (I'm assuming for that one, I haven't actually read it but Lokito is so IIII'm just gonna take her word for it-), etc. sWC wouldn't be the same without you. I mean- stories wouldn't be the same without you. You are the reason stories end. In a tragedy, after the main character discovers the what truly happened, when they solve the mystery- they die. Quick and easy. Keep at it. Keep doing your thing. Keep killin' off those characters.

Best of luck.
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

◦ Non-Fi | 119/100
Dear non-fi,

When I first read your cabin name, I started to smell cinnamon buns. Then sourdough. Only I was only smelling sourdough because that was what was right in front of me at the time, steaming hot sourdough with butter and a little big of lingon berry jam. Your bread house reminds me a lot of my ‘Mystery Patisserie’ cabin I ran in Scratch Reading Camp. How does it feel to make bread, pastries, and sweet pasties (PASTIES, not pasTRIes) everyday? Do you smell orange cranberry scones in the morning when you wake up, too? Please give me some challah bread, or at least exchange recipes- I have a killer banana bread!

Your neutral,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

♪ Script | 121/100
Dear Script,
Dear scri-scri-scri-scri-scirpt, what to say to you
I have zero clue, what to say to you
When I saw your thumbnail, I screamed
And I wanted to joiiiiiin

Bi-fi currently has seven-hundred hundred more points than you
Though having seven-THOUSAND more, is way more my style
When you do a few weeklies, you gain more points and Dystopian falls apart
We need to get a head-start.

Bi-fi is a new cabin slashhhh nation
And we are alliiiiiies
Isn't that kinda cool?
Are sibling ship is cra-zyy
You need to he-elp to, kidnap lokitoooo

We need to blow dyst all away,
kidnaaaap, looo-kiiii-toooooooo,

We live, Dyst will die, omg omg I need to write some more storiiiiies-
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

♤ Hi-Fi | 108/100
Dear Hi-fi,

First a question, does hi-fi stand for high five? Alas, I never actually knew what hi-fi really meant until yesterday when I finally mustered up the strength in my pinky finger to type into google what it stands for. I highly suggest not asking why I was typing with my pinky finger. When I learned that it stands for historical fiction, I went up to my sister and proudly announced “Hi-fi stands for historical fiction.” …apparently she already knew that and I felt like a total fool. Either way, if it did stand for high-five, I would definitely high-five you.

Good luck!
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

⚓Thriller | 110/100
Dear Thriller.

Okay, who made this theme? They are POGGERS. Ocean expedition? Though I'd be terrified, I would also be thrilled if I went on one. Is the water cold? If it's warm, what color is it? If anyone allowed to jump on your boat at anytime? Have you made anyone walk the plank yet? If not, GREAT no one knows whats in the water.. *shiver* sharks, jellyfish, stingrays… don't make anyone walk the plank in WHATEVER YOU DO, ALWAYS MAKE SURE THEY GO INTO THAT BIG BLUE OCEAN BY CHOICE. NOT. BY. FORCE. Yeha I'm a little scared of the ocean- anyways, Good luck Thriller!

- Bi-fi cinema citizen

⌬ Fan-Fi | 104/100
Dear Fan-fi,

By far one of the easiest genres to write (in a good way, don't worry), your agency looks serious cool. I mean, time travel agency? Come on, who would have thought of that! And the matching profiles pictures oh my goodness, somebody pinch me. The color combinations are really neat, shoutout to the leaders; you guys did an incredible job. You guys are making me want to time travel back to when I did my camper sign-up and put you guys in as a choice (pun wasn't originally intended but ehehe that was kind of smooth-).

Good luck, Fan-fi!
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

❈ Folklore | 110/100
Dear Folklore!

Hello hello, my ally! I'm so glad the two new cabins formed an alliance. What's up on the trail? See any birds? I'm so glad there's finally a cabin dedicated to nature in SWC! Trails?!! Who would have thought! And that storyline, my gosh! If you do see any birds, Blue Jays, Black-eyed Junkos, and Sparrows are my favorite, if you see any and have a camara on hand- please do take a picture for me! <3 I'll exchange you with some pictures of House finches. How big are the hawks on the trail? ThEsE aRe ThE QUESTIoNs i NeEd ANSWeRs To-

Your beloved sibling,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

◈ Real-Fi | 141/100
Dear Real-fi,

Somebody's gotta be in last place, and it just so happens to be you, Real-fi ! Is it warm and toasty in your inn? If so, I would NOT like to sleep there. I am extremely hot right now sitting in the sun. Anyways, I love realistic fiction. Your inn looks very well kept, your currency is very creative, and I love your enthusiasm when you said “enemies, ATTAAACKK >→ bye-fi { bi-fi }”. Is gives me a lot of motivation. Though we're enemies, let me offer you some free advice; If you'd like to advance in the leader board, send out a note to your campers with some motivation, or ask them if they have a journal they are writing in! A little can go a long way.

Good luck, you'll be needing it.
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

⌘ Horror | 111/100
Dear Horror.

Horror. To start off, whenever I think of the horror genre I always think of terror. Can ‘terror’ be a genre? Because I have some ideas for cabin names. My personal favorite is ‘Terror Toilet’, and for the Horror genre, ‘Horror Hump of Dried-out Toothpaste’, I highly suggest using one of them in the future. /jk Anyways, lot and found? Does that mean everyone gonna get lost and I get to scare them? 'Cause I have lots of barbie dolls that I SWEAR moved their eyes a couple of times, and maybe some other things like clown masks and more.

Good luck, Horror-lost-people (I think-)!
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

☀ Poetry | 130/100
Dear Poetry.

I would write a poem but I have zero motivation right now so this is what you get from me today. When I was ten years old, I though this would be a good poem:
Before I sit down with my needle and spool,
I have a small note for for you.
Frenemy or enemy,
Your cabin is cool,
My gosh I am so hot right now,
I need to jump into a pool-

and I would go show my sister and she would be like “hhHhHhhhhhHhhHhHh good job- amazing poem (insert name)” and I wouldn't believe her because she hesitated for, like, a minute. But serous, you cabin is really cool. And you even being lead by Finn, Viara, and Bee!

Your enemy,
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

∅ Sci-Fi | 101/100
Dear Sci-fi.

Sci-fi Sci-fi Sci-fi, the genre of some of the best books like ‘A Wrinkle in Time’; also the genre of my first scratch reading camp session, Sci-fi is so fun, ridiculously funny (sometimes), and un-real sometimes-too. My favorite graphic novel series, Carmen Sandiego, is Sci-fi! Welp, kind of. All of thsese cabin are so cool, I'm glad we're at least siblings! Sein Clo and Peggy are awesome, enjoy your time with them! They did an incredible job on the description, I'm loving the ∅'s for O and Ξ's for E. <3

Good luck, my sibling!
- Bi-fi cinema citizen

tinytulip-

. please del , ty .

Last edited by tinytulip- (Nov. 6, 2022 16:24:09)

Catsrock34

daily 6 :

“ In Victorian times, people sent messages to each other through secret code - aka flower arrangements! The flowers they used signified different things; for example, roses for love and friendship, crocuses for happiness, and marigolds for grief. Today’s daily is all about writing using the Victorian Language of Flowers. In 400 words, write a piece with 2-5 flowers on the list (and incorporate their meanings into your work) to earn 300 points! ”
- - -

flowers used ; rose , ambrosia , lucerne , periwinkle , orchid

This morning was a different morning for Clara because today was her birthday. She got out of bed and, after getting ready for the day, headed down to breakfast. Her mother had placed a rose bouquet next to Clara's birthday breakfast…pancakes! Clara scanned her memories for the meaning of roses which her mother had forced her to learn many years ago. After a minute of thinking, the meaning popped into Clara's head. Love is what the rose bouquet means, she thought excitedly. The young girl ate her pancakes quickly before running to the garden and plucking a ambrosia. Ambrosia means
love returned thought Clara as she plucked the yellow flower out of her mother's vast flower garden. She searched the house for her mother who was in the laundry room ironing the laundry with her hot, heavy iron. Clara gave her mother the ambrosia with a sweet smile and the mother smiled back, knowing the meaning of the flower immediately.
Clara talked with her mother as they finished up all the chores for Clara's birthday. They baked the cake and added periwinkles around it to decorate the cake. Clara asked her mother what they meant. Her mother said that they mean memory and friendship, symbolizing all the memories and friendships that Clara had made over the years. After they were done, they continued to prepare by decorating the house with flowers and felt banners. They also made some more food for the guests and prepared all the games that would be played during the party. The house was ready for the party, but Clara had to do one last thing before the guests arrived.
She grabbed her mother's hand, explaining her idea as she pulled her outside to the garden. Clara's mother agreed and plucked a few flowers from the garden before braiding them into Clara's golden hair. The flowers Clara's mother had chosen were lucernes. Lucernes mean life her mother had explained.
Finally the guests started to arrive and fill up the house. Clara played with her friends in the garden, while Clara's mother talked with the other mothers in the sitting room. The girls played games, talked, braided each others hair with flowers, explaining their meanings at the same time, and ate little pastries and snacks that Clara and her mother had prepared. It truly was an amazing party with the scent of the flowers wafting through the air.
A little while later all the girls went inside for cake! The cake was delicious and all the guests really enjoyed it.
When they were all finished, the party guests, birthday girl, and Clara's mother headed to the sitting room. The young girl ripped open all her gifts excitedly to find : a doll, books, paint, notebooks, clothing pieces and more inside. The last gift she received was an orchid. Orchid's were her favorite type of flowers because they meant her favorite thing, joy. She didn't want to show it, but she knew this was probably her favorite gift of all the gifts she received.
Later that night, after all the guests had left and after Clara and her mother had cleaned up, she told her mother about the orchid and about all the different flowers they had used that day. They talked for an hour before the young girl was ushered off to bed for it was late and tomorrow was another day of school…

566 words

Last edited by Catsrock34 (Nov. 6, 2022 16:48:58)

seasiide

11/6 (422 words): In Victorian times, people sent messages to each other through secret code - aka flower arrangements! The flowers they used signified different things; for example, roses for love and friendship, crocuses for happiness, and marigolds for grief. Today’s daily is all about writing using the Victorian Language of Flowers. Our brilliant Alba has compiled this beautiful list of flowers: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/741579314/. In 400 words, write a piece with 2-5 flowers on the list (and incorporate their meanings into your work) to earn 300 points! Extra 100 points for sharing, and a virtual daisy for stating your favourite flower in the comments for Starr’s enjoyment.

We giggled as we chased after each other. It was a clear, sunny day.
No clouds were in the sky and the temperature was mild; not too hot and not too cold. We were playing tag in the garden, the buttercups and wood sorrels blooming from the tender care of my parents. I was only five, while Charles was six.
We continued in the repeating loop after a while: me running from Charles and him running after me. But then I looked back and saw that Charles started picking up speed, so I squealed and did a zigzag pattern to try lose him and decrease his momentum. After the third zigzag, we collided into each other, landing onto a heap on the bright green grass. After a while, we blinked and stared at each other. Then we started laughing uncontrollably and rolling on the floor.
Happiness had never felt so sweet.

The bell rang and reverberated around the room, signaling that class had ended. I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and headed outside.
It had been another long day in high school, and I had been tapping my foot against the floor constantly. For I was impatient and anxious as I awaited the hours ahead. Charles had promised we would go shopping after school and maybe convince his mother to hold a sleepover.
I walked down the steps at the front of the school, and there he was, waiting. I grinned and sprinted past the jasmines lining the borders of the school.
“Took you long enough,” he said.
I would have thought he was angry, if not for the grin imprinted upon his face.
“What, did you want me to skip school?” I replied back jokingly.
“Well, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “What else?”

My feet suddenly felt heavy as I approached his grave. My eyes were stained with tears as I desperately tried to hold them back.
I never truly realized how fast things could change until now. He was here beside me only yesterday, it seemed, and now he was gone. My poor Charles. I had never realized how much of an impact he had had on my life. And now it was too late to tell him. I had so much unspoken things I wanted to say.
I fell to my knees and shut my eyes closed, the tears finally spilling down my cheeks. I louchets the marigolds tightly in my hands, before loosening my grip and shakily placing them in front of the tombstone.
“Goodbye, Charles.”

IzzyRS2010

୨ Daily 5 ୧
back to dailies:
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flowers
(its about a sacrifice so don't read if it disturbs you

)

꒰ Rhododendron ꒱
795/400 words for 400 points
I ran down the dark hallway. The lanterns were placed at intervals, so every two other steps were shrouded in darkness. The yellow pool of light did not reach far. I head my own boots click on the rotting floor, and I ran faster. I saw darkness coming up, whereas two lanterns should have been hung on the wall, there was gloom. I slowed my pace, anticipating the door to be in the darkness. As I came close, a tall guard stepped out of the darkness. I caught my breath, and looked up to see it had the face of a wolf. I remembered what I had been told, to just blink. That was the code. I took a shaky breath and blinked at the werewolf, and he stepped toward the door to unlock it.

He swung it open, and I saw light in a huge chamber. As I stepped in, the whole area of the chamber was unoccupied except for a circle of seven in the center. The door opened into the right side of the chamber, so I had to walk forward to the middle. It seemed here that the echoes were even louder, making my boots sound ten times louder. With another shaky breath, I found myself in the circle. The seven were holding hands in a circle. I stepped between two, and took their hands, joining in. I did not know much of why I had been summoned here from my trainings. I wasn't among extreme power among the other witch apprentices, and I was not the only one who found it odd.

After a few moments, they started glowing with blue light. It surrounded them, and I saw it encased me, too. A huge watery image of a flower showed up above us. It was as if the image was a projection onto water, shimmering above us. It was of the same material of the light surrounding us. It felt like cold air was coming from the flower, but I couldn't feel the light surrounding me, embedded in my skin. I studied the flower in amazement, to find it was a huge rosemary. I remembered from my classes that rosemary meant revival. Revival?

Suddenly, I looked up to see the rosemary was facing me. Five of the seven were looking at me, one even with tears streaming down her face and pity in her eyes. Suddenly, the once blue light around me turned red. I tried to break free of the circle, but my hands were stuck with the seven, who were still covered in blue. Everything started shaking, and my feet were lifted off the ground. Still holding hands with the others, I was floating in the air. I turned into rhododendrons, and the flowers that I had become fell to the floor. Their bright yellow color and sharp, sweet smell contrasted with the dark and grimy floor.

I gasped, still with my mouth shut tight, as the girl next to me fell to the floor in a pile of rhododendrons. Danger. Immediately after she had been dispersed into flowers, my hand and the hands of the one who had been on the other side of the girl were held together again. I swallowed as I remembered the next phase of the spell. I shivered. Revival.

When I looked up again, the rosemary image was gone, but the watery blue material it had seemed to be projected on was creating something else. I gasped, my mouth opening this time, as it formed a girl. A year older than the life we had traded, she had pretty brown hair that was oddly chopped off on one side. Her skin was a sickly pale green, her skin opaque and her veins showing. Her lips were cracked, and she looked sick. As the blue energy surrounding us dimmed, she was lowered to the ground slowly. Three from the other side of the circle were quick to catch her, for one brought back from the dead would not have the energy to stand on her own yet. She blinked and looked around.

Back at the infirmary of the school, the girl who had risen from the dead was being cared for, to return her to health. She ate every hour, and a special witch came in to practice mind exercises with her. She was growing stronger, her skin not nearly as transparent as it had once been, and her veins showing less. She did not sleep, for being dead was by far enough sleep for her, it seemed. Barely anyone had been told of her revival, for it would scare the apprentices and make questions arise. They did not want those at the school to be shaken at the story of the sacrifice.

icebunny11

NickName - Ava
Content - November 6th Daily
Word Count - 412/400
Topic - Write 400 words with 2-5 flowers that have meaning to them.
Cabin - Thriller

LETS GET STARTED

Flowers used-
Kingcups (desire for riches)
Snapdragon (presumptuous)
Magnolia (love of nature)
Borage (bluntness)
lucerne (life)

Dear Phillip,
I have come to a decision to cut off all activities in the Town Square. An infection is spreading across, yet people do not listen to the wise words of their leaders and walk the grounds of our city. Not only that, but they insist on gathering right in the middle, where the infection started. My city's population is slowly decreasing, and I refuse to give up my kingdom for some stupid fools who do not care for their lucerne. What idiots.
I understand the people with Magnolia who like to wander the gardens, as I am like that as well, but everybody at the same time? We thought of a schedule. The right part of the city would get it for one day, and the next day the left, but the people did not listen. Thus, I have decided to close all activities in Town Square.

Another problem has also come to my notice. People's kingcups from the leaders are driving me mad. Not only do they get a monthly payment which is fine for two months, but also get money from the pitying tax collectors. Think of that, I have to fire that collector Hank…
And to think those villagers would then ask for the food we get freshly from the neighboring village, which is only for the royal family. How dare they. What has gotten into them?

Next up, we come to talk about the horrible Snapdragons at the sanctuary. We gave them refuge from the dark and from the war. We fed them. We kept them warm. We took them in as our own. What do they give us? Littered streets, arrogant behavior, and of course, no respect at all. I shudder to think why I had accepted this city in the first place. You are lucky you are inheriting the South Coast. The people over there are so kind and generous, it warms my heart. The most inspiring thing of all is their Borage. Not in a rude way, they express their feelings. By any means possible, they say what they are thinking straight forward, but still are polite, and that is what I like most about the inhabitants of the South Coast.

And in the midst of all this trouble, I have forgotten to greet you first, again. How are you, little brother? Are you doing well in the Army? Please keep me updated on your visit to Persia with the camp! Our mother was from there, you know.

Love,
Ava.

coolgirl100-

Daily 6: 749 words

Flowers used: Ammaranth = Immotality, Everlasting Pea = Rememberance, Ice Plant = Heartlesseness, Orchid = Rare beauty and Ulex = Humility

These woodland fairies know best. Always. They saw everyone and didn't forgive anyone. They played, laughed, and cursed.
Accursed beings, being the woodcutter, as he slumped around his woodland cabin. His son, once again, was arranging flowers.

“Son,” The woodcutter said, turning to his son. “You should get out more. Do more useful things. You shouldn't be just sitting around putting useless weeds in jam jars. You're not a maid.”
“But father.” Said the son. “They're not weeds. They're flowers. And the proper term for them is arranging flowers.” he just finished putting the last flower and looked at his work proudly.
“Look, Father,” He gestured to his work. “These two flowers, Ulex and Ice plant, remind me of you.” The son secretly grinned to himself, as his father didn't know what those specific flowers meant in the secret flower code.
But the woodcutter scoffed. “See!?” He laughed. “like I said, take up woodchopping, son! We're here to chop all these trees down to make money, not go and admire those little bits of grass with petals. Honestly!”
And the woodcutter went off to continue chopping the trees down. The son sighed and went back to admire his latest work.

“Ice Plant means heartlessness, and Ulex means humility, doesn't it?” Said a distant, childlike voice, and the son looked up. There were his old friends, his secret friend, the little woodland fairy he had befriended ever since his eighth birthday, and who stayed with him for all the five years leading up till now.

“Hello, Orchid.” The woodcutter's son waved.
“Hello, Alex,” Said Orchid. “That's a very lovely arrangement. I wonder why you chose Ulex and Ice Plant, huh?” She asked sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Alex's father went off into the woods, proving his worth as the strongest and best woodcutter in all the firest. he always boasted to his friends and anyone to choose to listen to him, and he always loved every second of basking in this glory. He chortled to himself, knowing what mightly logs he will gather up that day.
“I am the best, I am the best,” He said. "My son, although. is very useless.
the forest fairies, who took a liking for the boy, growled quietly, plotting a vengeance that very minute as he boasted openly to the forest.
He walked up to a tall thin birch, and he smirked. Brilliant! I lovely tall tree he can show off to everyone., He got out his iron axe and swung at the tree.

But yet, a dull booming sound came from the tree, standing as strong as ever. The woodcutter was confused. he swung the axe again, and the birch made the sound of a dull anvil. It was as if the trees were made out of metal. The woodcutter swung his axe again and again, and still, nothing happened. And all the forest fairies laughed at their joke. That so-called strong woodcutter couldn't even cut a dob of a simple birch!

Alex had then also gone out to start gathering flowers for his new arrangement. He, on the other hand, was kind and humble. He nurtured his little wildflower garden, sang sweet melodies to the birds, and gently picked up snails onto wild vegetables so no one else can step on them. He greeted the foxes, whispered words of encouragement to trees ad chatted eagerly with the forest fairies.

The fairies then showed him to his father who was still struggling to cut down the birch tree. Watching his boastful father show all his hatred and anger toward beautiful nature, Alex felt almost a new fury surge into him. When has this beautiful forest ever deserved so much hate and heartlessness from his father?

Orchid flittered above him and then placed a garland of Amaranth flowers on his head. Suddenly, the woodcutter's son felt a new power that rushed into his veins. A new sense of duty overcame him. He must protect his home.

minutes later, where the woodcutter was, was now a big patch of Everlasting Peas beside the indestructible birch tree. A reminder served by the newfound Forest King to those who wish destruction upon this utopia of wildlife and magic.

The Forest King, from then on, had his log cabin transformed into a palace of flowers and trees, where even to this day you can still find him, a happy, young man with a crown of amaranths, embracing his forest kingdom, and creating the most beautiful flower arrangements in all the lands.

Last edited by coolgirl100- (Nov. 6, 2022 17:56:18)

SqueakyBird520

Daily November 6th
Nightshade - Sorcery, dark thoughts
Oleander - Beware
Veronica - Fidelity
Amaranth - Immortality
Peach Blossom - You hold me captive

“Come on, Flora!” my friend, Veronica, called from next to the fence of the abandoned house.
I was unsure of whether I should go with her. I didn’t trust this place.
My friend didn’t know it, but that was the very house where my great-grandparents had lived. There was a story in my family about them, that they had gotten into a disagreement with a sorcerer that ended up cursing them and next in their family to stay in that house. However, it hadn’t exactly worked out as planned, since they already had three grown children by that time, so only they ended up with the curse. No one knew what happened, only that the house was abandoned, nightshade taking over the lawn.
But I had always felt this unwavering loyalty towards Veronica, and that loyalty only grew stronger the longer I was with her.
I reminded myself that we wouldn’t be staying in the house, we’d just be looking around for anything interesting. There probably wasn’t anything that special inside anyway.
I ran over to Veronica, and she jumped the fence first. It wasn’t that high, just a normal fence about three feet tall, so it didn’t take much effort to get over. The moment I landed on the other side of the fence, I immediately got an uneasy feeling. Something about the nightshade surrounding me was giving me the sense that something bad was going to happen. Shaking my head and telling myself it was nothing, I walked towards the door with Veronica at my side.
Just outside the doorway of the house, the nightshade stopped. Instead, there was a patch of oleander. I remembered from a trivia thing that the pink flower meant ‘beware’, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to scare my friend.
Making our way into the house, Veronica led me to what must have been a dining room. There was a table in the center with six chairs around it. Veronica sat down at one, and I sat in the chair to her right, looking around the room.
“You know, there’s a story in my family about this house,” she told me.
My head snapped over to Veronica. “Really? Mine has one, too.”
“That’s funny. Is it about the next person to live here, or something along those lines?”
I stared at her in shock. “Yes. The next person to stay here, actually.”
“Right, that’s the wording!” Veronica snapped as if she were suddenly remembering the story clearer.
“So, does that mean..?”
“We’re distant cousins? Yeah, probably.”
I was surprised at how Veronica could be so unfazed by that realization, but I didn’t have time to ask her about it.
Because that was the moment everything faded away.

When I woke up, Veronica was gone.
I was still in the abandoned house, but I was alone.
I looked out the window. It was sunrise. My parents were going to kill me!
I rushed to the door, but when I opened it, someone was there.
The dark purple robe and the longer blond hair didn’t throw me off. Nor did the fact that she looked older. The pale skin and dark blue eyes set into that familiar face told me it was her.
“Veronica?”
The woman who had been my friend for the past two months smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Flora. I’m only here to give you an offer.”
Veronica walked past me, into the house, and something compelled me to follow. Veronica had always been so trustworthy, it was hard not to follow her lead. When she finally stopped and sat down at the very seat she had sat in the day before, the woman turned to me.
“It is here that you must make a choice.”
“What kind of choice?”
Veronica smiled and held out her hands. In each appeared a flower.
“I lift the spell here, so your choice is without influence.”
Suddenly, my unwavering loyalty to my friend seemed to leave me. It was then that I remembered that the veronica was the symbol of fidelity, of loyalty and faithfulness. That was why I always listened to her without question.
“You never answered my question. What kind of choice do I have to make?”
Veronica held up her right hand to better show the flower it was holding. “You probably know by now that I am the sorcerer that cursed your family. The flower in my right hand is the amaranth, a symbol of immortality. Choose it, and I will take you as an apprentice. I will care for you for the rest of your upbringing as if you are my own. You will live forever unless you truly wish to die. You will not be cursed, and I will do whatever you request to make sure your family doesn’t worry about you. If you’d like, I could even make you forget about them.”
Before I could say anything about that, Veronica lifted her left hand. “This is the peach blossom. It means, ‘you hold me captive’. Choose this one, and you are cursed for the rest of your days. You have slept in this house, therefore you have stayed here. I will not tell you what the curse is, only that it is not easily hidden. Your family will know you came here.”
I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. My parents must have been worried sick, but if I chose the amaranth, I would avoid both punishment and a curse. But if I chose the peach blossom, I could still go home.
Eyes still closed, I told Veronica, “Throw them both in the air. If I don’t catch one, throw them again until I do. Whatever I catch, I will choose.”
It took a couple of tries, but after a few attempts I finally caught a flower. I opened my eyes to see which one it was.
Either way, the answer wouldn’t exactly be wonderful. But it was my choice for the flowers to be thrown. I no longer could do anything about it.

1010 words! Got a bit carried away I guess-

ForestPanther

Amaranth (Immortality)

Asphodel (My regrets will follow you to your grave)

Euphorbia (Vanity)

Foxglove (Treachery)

Quince (Temptation)

If you should have never appeared

In that field,

It’s a tragedy, some would say, that you did.

As do I.

But at the time it was a treasure.

A blessing in the form of an angel,

Beautiful,

Devils can dress as angels as well.

That’s what I persuaded myself for so many years,

And now everything you gave me,

And all I took from you,

It follows me.

It haunts me, as it haunted you.

They say in Elysium there is peace, and

An immortal flower.

I didn’t bother with learning its name.

I knew in myself I would never visit that place,

But not for the reasons I wish I had known.

Asphodel.

That is the name of the flower.

And in that field you came to me,

Bearing riches and love and everything I wanted.

You did not offer them to me.

You offered a simple life.

A life that, in the end, I would be satisfied with,

And a life in which I would see the immortal flower.

But I saw the riches, and the love,

And everything I wanted,

And I thought of the flower, and I thought,

There are many flowers in the world.

I do not feel the need to see one more.

You came five times to offer me salvation.

Wings of light hat I believed were misleading,

But were the only true intentions around.

Five times you came,

But every time I leeched,

I stole, I plundered,

I drained the spirit from your halo,

And I took what you hadn’t offered.

And on the fifth time you told me that you knew. You knew

Of the deeds I had done, of the temptations I had given in to.

You were dissapointed. But you offered me,

One more chance.

I did not take it.

Only five visits to destroy five thousand years.

Quince.

You left and you didn’t come back.

I had no expectation of a visit.

I had no want of a visit.

I had what I needed.

Amaranth.

That is what I took.

I thought that I had done the right thing,

The good thing,

The smart thing,

The thing nobody else would dare to do,

The brave thing,

The great thing,

The thing that would not only benefit me but would benefit others-

That is what I told myself.

That I was worthy of the thing.

I was ecstastic. I was in a rush of euphoria, But

I was wrong.

And I was too deep into

Euphorbia.

Funny how a single letter alters an entire meaning.

I betrayed you and the good of others.

I betrayed you and the life of the world.

I saw five thousand years of suffering.

At first I thought immortality was a blessing.

The truth was,

And is,

And forever will be,

I was not quite immortal.

There was a method of relief,

From the pain I discovered five thousand years could be.

I had to do it myself.

And I did, for I could not-

I could never-

I couldn’t live with the guilt of my treachery.

My

Foxglove.

Five thousand years and only now do I send you the asphodel I will never see.

bro thats deeep.
if you read this pls tell me i will be happy

ayid_7345

663 words, probably my longest daily that went past the required word limit. I enjoyed this one a lot <3

Daily for the 6th:

I stood, concealed in the shadows of a tree. I, Axel Tsal, was being accused of treason.

I stood watching the funeral proceedings. Everyone thinks Father d!ed because of me. Everyone believes I k!lled him. None of them know the truth, I would never kill the man who gave me a home and a family.

My eyes scan the people attending the funeral. I see my adopted mom and sister crying near the casket. A tear fell down my cheek, the people I once called family blamed me. They wanted me dead.

Not being able to handle the scene any longer I left, vowing to say my last goodbyes to Father soon- but when it wasn’t as crowded.

I stumbled out of the cemetery and headed to the black SUV I had ‘borrowed’ from the agency. Like I said, everyone thinks I’m a k!ller, no one trusts me.

I drove to the hideout- located in a quiet town west of New York City. The only safe place.

Now, I am forced to call an old antique shop with an apartment on the second floor home. As I shuffle into the apartment I notice something is off.

Sitting on the worn out kitchen table was a bouquet of flowers. That was NOT there before.

I walked towards the pile and examined the flowers. Father had an obsession with nature, he would talk about the different plants he nurtured every single day at the dinner table so I was easily able to identify the flowers. Foxgloves.

Honestly, Foxgloves are kind of an odd type of flower. You wouldn’t usually find them in a simple floral store or at the market. I knew, I knew what these flowers were meant to represent. Treachery. Among Father’s avocations- memorizing the Victorian language of flowers was one of them.

In Victorian times, flowers often held symbolic meanings, which Father shared to both his children. Foxgloves standed for treachery. Somebody knew where I was.

In a panic, I packed all of my things, shoving them into a small bag. I needed to get out of here fast. The agency often sent codes to me through flowers during dangerous times. This was their warning.
As soon as everything was packed I headed back into the SUV and scrambled to shove everything into the trunk. As I slid into the driver's seat I noticed another bouquet in the passenger seat.

Nightshades. Dark Thoughts.

They were terrorizing me. Mocking me. Scaring me into submission.

I quickly checked my surroundings, they had to be close.

I saw a similar SUV parked a couple blocks away. There.

I hit the accelerator and the car bolted off the road. The car didn’t follow behind. I took a few deep breaths, maybe I’m just being paranoid?

I’m at my father’s grave. I stare at the tombstone.

Here lies Alastair Tsal
A loving Father and Husband
Forever in our hearts

A sob chokes up my throat. My knees fail me. Soon I’m sobbing on the floor a light snow starts and soon the ground around me is covered in a blanket of soft snow.

I don’t know how long I was there- just crying at his grave. It must have been a long time as my butt was cold from the ground and my fingers were red and numb. I could see my breath in the cold air in front of me.

I grabbed yet the third bouquet that day- a mix of marigolds and daisies. I picked these up after the situation with the nightshades. This would be a good way to honor Father- with the flowers he loved throughout his life.

I stood up and gently placed them on the ground near his tombstone.

My tears had dried up- I had cried them all away. It was time to move on. I turned around and started walking towards the parking lot. The meaning of those flowers raced through my mind.

Innocence and grief.

-Galatic_Planet-

MC Daily 6- Nov 6
568 words

In Victorian times, people sent messages to each other through secret code - aka flower arrangements! The flowers they used signified different things; for example, roses for love and friendship, crocuses for happiness, and marigolds for grief. Today’s daily is all about writing using the Victorian Language of Flowers. Our brilliant Alba has compiled this beautiful list of flowers: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/741579314/. In 400 words, write a piece with 2-5 flowers on the list (and incorporate their meanings into your work) to earn 300 points! Extra 100 points for sharing, and a virtual daisy for stating your favorite flower in the comments for Starr’s enjoyment.

Flowers used:
Daisy: innocence
Orchid: rare beauty
Carnation: fascination
Dahlia: yours till the end
Sweet Pea: Departure

As per every typical Saturday, Owen was walking down third street. He was walking back from his favorite nursery picking up his favorite flowers. Why was he walking down third street with a bouquet of flowers? To go to his girlfriend’s house of course! Him and his deaf girlfriend, Angelina, loved to exchange flowers. It was like their love language. In her past time, Angelina loved to study flowers or anything that had to do with flowers. She grew flowers, she learnt a lot of species, and even knew all the meanings. For example, her favorite flower, the daisy, means ‘innocence’.
For this week’s flowers, Owen picked an orchid. Angelina told him, not too long ago, they mean ‘rare beauty’. That’s exactly what Owen thought of Angelina.
When Owen arrived at Angelina’s tan colored house, he walked up the oak-wood steps. He looked around the porch. There were 2 benches back-to-back with dark green cushions with a black coffee table in between them. He loved how it looked. He set the purple orchids on the bench closest to the wall. Owen rang the house’s doorbell. Angelina’s mom answered the door. “Hi, Mrs. Greenwood! Is Angelina home?” Owen asked politely.
“Indeed she is! I’ll go get her for you.” replied Angelina’s mom. She let Owen inside then she walked away to go get Angelina. Owen took a seat right in front of the fireplace. Angelina skipped down the stairs when she was told the news of Owen’s presence. “Hey baby!” she signed with ASL*. Her dark brown eyes twinkling. He smiled. He loved Angelina. After a little bit of signing back and forth to each other, Owen remembered about the flowers. Him and Angelina went outside. He picked up the flowers and signed to her “Here are the flowers for this week. I hope you like them!” She smiled and stared in amazement. Her smile grew as she remembered what they mean. She signed gleefully, “I love them, Owen! Thank you!”
The next two weeks Owen did his weekly routine. Go to the nursery, buy flowers, give to his girlfriend. He picked a carnation for the next week, which means ‘fascination’ and a dahlia meaning ‘yours till the end’ for the week after that. However, every time Owen brought Angelina her flowers he noticed something off about her. She would be less and less excited and she would never answer why.
Until one day she came to him crying. She gave him a sweet pea flower from her garden and then made the ASL sign for mother. Owen didn’t understand. Then it hit him. The sweat pea meant ‘departure’ and she signed ‘mother’. Her mom died. He didn’t know what to do. He pulled her into him and he hugged him tight. They were like that for many minutes. Then she let go. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and face red and puffy. Owen kissed her and then signed with sympathy, “Would you like to go to the new garden? We can walk or I can drive.” And at that they were off in Owen’s car to the new garden that opened a few weeks ago.

*ASL- American Sign Language

Epilogue-
Angelina and Owen became high school sweethearts. They got married and had 2 baby girls named Daisy and Rose. They still fulfill the tradition of flower language just not weekly. They use it for secret messaging.

The end

Last edited by -Galatic_Planet- (Nov. 6, 2022 17:45:34)

googlybear-_-

☺︎Weekly 1

Dear Steampunk Sanctuary ( Fantasy ),

I'm not exactly in your cabin but let me say that your cabin seems enjoyable. It feels nice to visualize stories I read in the meantime when I'm bored. Congratulations on being at the top so far! Let's just say plenty of people are motivated to type in your cabin. Also, I'm just spying around your cabin drinking tea, and watching dragons out the window. Oh, I know I'm in Horror and I'm on the neutrals list. Why? Excellent studio thumbnail, you must have been using Canva for a pretty long time. Well, enjoy your time in your cabin. Good luck with your points!
(104 Words )

Dear Dystopian,

Your cabin seems like a calm, peaceful, and relaxing place. Excellent job with being on the top of the leaderboard, I think you guys will go further and further every day. Everybody encourages other people and you work very hard. You would make a great team for a writing competition. Also, you guys always agree and have a plan. For example, trying to beat fantasy. Hopefully, you will one day, there is always a surprise in life. You guys might only have 23 campers, but you have been doing an excellent job with everything. I think most cabins like you guys!
101 Words

Dear Bizarro Fiction (Bi-Fi),

You guys have an excellent group! Let's just say you guys made a great joke about naan and you guys communicate a lot. That's a good thing because you meet new people. In Horror, were a little scary but we do a bunch of random things. I like your story about when you got to the cinema and hear a scream. It's truly creative and I think that took some time. You guys have about 22 campers and you guys must type a lot and do the weeklies. Good thing you're at the top of the leaderboard. You deserve it.
( 100 Words )

Dear Horror ( the group I'm in ),

I enjoy hanging out with you guys and we deserve the top on the leaderboard. The story that @The60Seconds made in the description was absolutely what I was looking for. Good thing, I signed up for this group because we make a great team because we always support each other. It seems like we're a “ Rice Krispies Treats ”, we'll never separate. All of the good people got chosen to be in this group. Things would be so much different without encouragement. Our team never let's each other down. We can't give up now, there's still a chance we could be in 1rst.
( 102 Words )

Dear Script,

It appears you guys are just chilling and practicing lines right now while I'm in the audience getting ready for pure excellence. You guys are a pretty great team together. You finish weeklies and work hard. Congratulations on 20k words! Everybody probably pitches in with the dailies. If you owned a real theater think it would be very successful with all of your details and fascinating stories. You fellows should assemble an animation with different characters and create it like a theater. I would honestly struggle with making songs the most. I bet you can make a song about an adventure. That would seem really cool to visualize.
( 108 Words )

Dear Folkore,

Your cabin seems friendly and engaging. It's like a decent community. All of you guys pitch in and work hard on the dailies. The matching profile pictures are very cool. You all seem like a very interesting group but I wouldn't exactly fit in. The story in the description seems interesting, I love all of the details, but it was not exactly what I was I was looking for. Whatever you guys do you'll probably make it far. You guys should make a little animation about one of the stories someone wrote. That would be extremely nice. Good luck with the leaderboard!

( 102 Words )

Dear Thriller,

Your cabin is well but one thing caught my eye in the description. It said,“ ENEMIES-ATTACKKKKKKKKK
SCRIPT (ED TERRIBLENESS SIGH-FI HORROR.” I'm in Horror and honestly, I don't think we're too competitive. It just depends on how much people participate in yours. Good thing you're on the enemies list on Horror. You only have about 1600 points, hopefully, you catch up later because I already feel bad for Real-Fi. Well, congrats on having a lot of points. You guys will go further and further each day. Whatever you do, don't be the one who doesn't participate. Have an amazing day!

( 100 Words )

Dear Adventure,

I am really excited to search through your cabin and look through different stories from different dimensions. Adventure is mostly about like escaping somewhere, chasing a villain, trying to make something work, and a lot more things. I started to love adventure when I started reading the “ Land of Stories ”. It was all about adventure, and fairytales. They would solve extreme problems and always had a solution. I suggest that you should make a story that combines with action, fairytale, and adventure. Maybe even make an animation. Adventure might be one of the cabins I like a lot. Good luck with points!
( 101 Words )

Dear Fan-Fi,

Y'all are a travel agency, a time travel agency. You guys seem like you barely even have any enemies. That's a good thing, unlike all the other cabins. I feel like you guys are a calm and peaceful group. Willow did a great job on the thumbnail, very aesthetic. I understand how you have only 900 points. It sucks that you guys only have 15 people in your group. Maybe more campers might come in. I'm not sure if you're actually going to read this whole thing because it might be a little boring, but someone has to do the weekly if their team wants points.
( 105 Words )

Dear Sci-Fi,

If I had to explain your cabin I would have absolutely no words. Very detailed and marvelous. I agree that Thriller is an enemy too, I understand that I'm on the neutrals list. I don't care. Excellent job on the matching profile pictures. Probably the best I've seen today. Your co-leader and leader applications are really creative. At the first second, I knew that you guys were going to make it. That's truly brave because I gave up without any ideas. I suggest that you guys motivate a lot of people to do the weekly. Who knows how far of a jump you can make? Have a good day!
( 109 Words )

Dear Hi-Fi,

The Hi-Fi Train Robbery. Nice, sounds like an action and fairytale kind of story. I was scrolling through the comments and found somebody who finished their weekly. Congratulations to @Fantastical_Words! I do not know how many points you have but good thing you are higher than some cabins because I wouldn't be too proud if the cabin I'm in ( Horror ) was on the bottom. For a minute I thought your name was weird because it was sort of like “Hi”-Fi. As in, “ Oh, hi darling. Let's rob a train!”. Maybe animate the whole story you wrote in the description. That would be extremely what I'm into, like the Land of Stories.
( 109 Words )

Dear Mystery,

The Mystery Express? Sounds mysterious like it's supposed to be. The start of the story in the description goes frightened then, “Enjoy your ride!”. Most stories start like that and I was not surprised. You did a pretty satisfactory job with the matching profile pictures. I'm one of your enemies and I'm from Horror. The fact that were enemies, I don't mind because I don't attack you. You guys are near the top of the leaderboard so far and hopefully, it stays like that for now. If everybody does a weekly in yours then that will be a NICE big jump to the top!
( 104 Words )

Dear Real-Fi,

You guys are The Real-Fi Inn. It's making me think of a buffet and bar. My question is, what is the rating? I don't care if it's a 4 but if it's under that then I'm running away. You should make a multiplayer game about the inn. You can play games order food and chat with other people. Can you make this a little more interesting? For example, a criminal comes in stealing things from everybody's wallet with an evil laugh. That might be like Mystery's job though. Just try to make things spiced up like you would with food. Now I think I'm off-topic. Bye Real-Fi!

( 103 Words )

Dear Non-Fiction,

The Naan Fiction Breadhouse! I would visit you every day just for the food. The matching profile pictures are my favorite so far. Also, probably my favorite style so far is a bread house. The description is convincing me to walk inside and enjoy. You make a game for this and you have to complete orders for the consumers. One of my favorite parts of the story in the description is when you explain how it is. For example, you said it was modern with potted plants sitting around the border of the room. I think all of you did an excellent job with everything! Have a good day!
( 109 Words )

Dear Poetry,

Poetry Isle of Fame? That's what you call your cabin. Can it be more friendly? Like the “ Naan Fiction Breadhouse,” it's a little more social and creative. Not that I don't like your cabin because of your name. Congratulations to the people who did the weekly, they made a big boost for your team. You guys are pleasant and motivating. You encourage each other and keep on going no matter what. I know I'm a part of the neutrals list ( I'm in horror ) but I don't mind because I'm not too competitive with points. Sometimes if you really want your team to get points you need to join in and help.
( 111 Words )

1,566 Words ( there are 15 cabins )

sxwjq

November 6 daily (414 words):
With a cup of chamomile tea in hand, Sally looked upon her flourishing garden, planted with violet periwinkles and white daisies. She sipped the sweet, comforting tea and smiled at her flowers. She had first planted them a few months ago, and now they had finally grown to their prime. Sally remembered when she had decided to plant them. Her former best friend, Lilly, had laughed about it, saying that Sally could plant Lilly’s name in her backyard. Sally had taken her seriously, so she bought a few bags of flower seeds, which were immediately buried under the dirt when she arrived at home. However, Lilly ghosted Sally after her move to her home country and Sally was left with her periwinkles, daisies, and lilies. The lilies, though appearing to be pretty and pure, Sally was always reminded of Lilly every time she saw them. Not knowing whether Lilly was still alive or dead, as Sally’s messages were never answered, Sally stopped watering the lilies in a fit of despair and focused on the growth of her new favorites, the periwinkles and daisies. Sally wished she could turn back time to when she was more innocent, not the killer of lilies, and when she was still friends with Lilly. She wished to forget about all the negative emotions she constantly felt when she thought of Lilly. However, the more Sally tried to forget, the worse she felt inside. Her mental state had fallen to an all-time low, and neither her mother’s delicious baked pastries nor her father’s scrumptious fried bacon could lift her mood. During Sally’s absence, her parents had been taking care of her flowers on her behalf. Sally finally escaped from her misery when she received news of her periwinkles and daisies being fully grown. Walking outside for the first time in an eternity, Sally breathed in the fresh scent of grass and observed the beauty of the nature in her backyard. Her eyes widened in surprise as she gazed at the magnificent, vibrant flowers in the garden. The deep purple color of the periwinkles contrasted perfectly with the daisies’ natural white color, and the small specks of yellow in the daisies’ centers gave an attractive pop to the garden’s entirety. Covered by the stunning periwinkles and daisies, the dead lilies that had become brown could hardly be seen anymore. Sally turned around to her parents, a dazzling grin spreading across her face. She thanked them fervently and leaped out the door.

Backlo9

Daily Nov.6

Flowers: Daily Nov 6.-He/Him-Backlo
Quince:Temptation
Bay:Glory
Hellebore: Madness

Hi I’m Macy and this is my story. I’m quirky and not like other girls. I have a secret, I’m actually a supernatural creature from the Planet Ghaar. I came to Earth with my Brother Gayle after there was an explosion on Ghaar. Nobody survived on Ghaar and my parents put me in a capsule and gave me three flowers: Hellebore, Quince and Bay. Our parents told us that when we lick each flower, the flowers unleash a power on someone and after the person uses their power a certain amount of times they turn to ice. They also said to not use the Bay flower. Our parents also told us to use the flowers for evil. Our world was destroyed by humans from Earth launching a missile. Our parents didn’t have time to leave Ghaar and ended up exploding just like Ghaar did.
Then my brother and I plummeted into an underground tunnel on Earth and suddenly around fifty stairs magically glimmered next to me and Gayle.

I started walking on these stairs which took me to the overworld of Earth. a I then met a guy named Sam and asked where I was, and he told me I was in a place called something like the News of York. Then I licked my Hellebore flower and Hellebore meant madness so I assumed something bad would happen. Sam then started to scream so loudly. Everyone he screamed at turned into ice. Then after he screamed about three times he turned to ice and so did everyone else who saw his eyes. The Hellebore flower disappeared in my hands after that. I decided my revenge plot on earth was to create chaos and make me rule over the News of York. Then I had this weird feeling that was telling me that revenge was wrong but I didn’t think much of it.

I started walking around News of York and sat on a bench next to this child and what seemed to be his friends.
I gave the Quince flower to Gayle and he licked it. Quince meant temptation and Gayle told me it would probably make someone be tempted by his desires. The child's fingers turned into talons and everyone he scratched turned into a pink blob. He started scratching everyone he saw and after he scratched five people he turned into a pink blob too. After that the flower disappeared into my hands just like the Hellebore flower. Earth then stopped and humans were frozen. Me and Gayle started to have fun on Earth for around five weeks and then Earth got really boring and there wasn't anything left to do. I had an idea to lick the Bay flower even though our parents told us not to and what happened next was crazy.

I licked the bay flower and Earth resumed but something wasn’t right.
Everyone resumed their lives as if nothing happened and Gayle and I turned into giraffes and we both couldn’t do anything about it. My conscience told me that what I did was a mistake and after that I learned my lesson. I should have never used any of the flowers, even though my parents told me to. I realized that since the Bay flower was the flower of glory, The world became glorious and since we were not glorious we became animals so we could not change the world again.

unhinged_musings

Daily for November 6th
yes this is a piece of work and overly sappy bUt it was fun to write so

~Juniper~

I glanced at the bouquet on the corner of the desk, and a grimace crossed my face. I didn’t even want to think of the wretched thing, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.
I definitely couldn’t throw out the note.
I’d read it over and over again, and its short, concise, and honestly rather elegant message was engraved in my brain.
“I love you.
Come run away with me down the river and over the hill, into the forest.”
-Fox
Fox wasn’t his real name, but I knew who this boy was. I knew what he was - trouble. So, so much trouble.
His charms had caught me off guard on the first day of school. They were a pleasant surprise, breaking the monotony of the prelude to the prison sentence to come. I unintentionally entertained his idea that one day, we could be lovers. I had never really loved him - honestly, it was always more of a grand joke to me - but he kept taking everything so seriously. And now this.
“Juniper,” he would call me. That was what he called me, the same as I called him Fox. Juniper meant he trusted me. That he could confide in me.
Fox was what I called him. He hadn’t really thought about that much, had he? I’d told him “That means I think you’re smart and that your heart is strong.” Ugh, the words were so sweet I swear I’d gotten a cavity or two from just saying them.
But really it meant I didn’t trust him. I meant it to contradict what he’d told me, a subtle sign I tried to give that I wasn’t interested in whatever he wanted.
I was his Juniper, though. He took everything I said to be the truth. If I said the sky was purple, he would argue the point to others until enough people told him to shut up. Not that that made him stop believing it though.
The idiot.
I picked up the bouquet, looking it over. There were six flowers in it, each a different kind. They smelled gorgeous, although I wouldn’t say any of them were quite striking in scent. I had never found any particular flowers impactful in that domain, instead just enjoying the general feel they put on my mind.
It was nice.
I realized something. These flowers…they had to mean something. Fox was a complete nerd when it came to flower meanings. This bouquet was probably saying something else besides the simple note, even if it was only vague lovey-dovey words.
I dashed to the old wooden bookshelf in the corner of the room, pulling out a worn book he had given me a bit more than a month ago on old flower meanings. “I want you to borrow this,” he’d said. “I have a copy of a similar book, and I think it would be cool if we had our own language of love and stuff.”
I hadn’t remarked on the love part at the time, but I should have. I should have remarked on a lot of the love parts. I should have told him that he should stop pining after me when I would never love him back.
Now he’s gone, run away, with his location known only to me - it was in that note he’d left at my window last night. And he would wait for me as long as he could.
He would wait for me until he died.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else yet, though. I had to go talk to him myself, tonight. I would go after dark, to the place where we’d spent so many lazy afternoons, hidden in the forest. Just…playing, like we were children.
It was a little grove we’d built a little hut out of wood and sticks at. It was a little grove by a little stream that ran under a little hill out into a lush, golden-green forest.
It was where I would find him.
I opened the old, crusty book, biting my lip in concentration. One by one, I located each dying flower and their secret meaning.
Honeysuckle - “Ties of love”
Dahlia - “Yours to the end
Magnolia - “Love of Nature”
Rose - “Pure Love”
Helebore - “Delirium, Madness”
And, finally, Juniper:
“I confide in you”

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