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Mɪʀᴀ's JWC Jᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟ ..
⤷ she / they
⤷ pirate cabin
⤷ 794 / 9.300 words
⤷ be warned that most of my dailies / weeklies will contain spoilers for my story, so if you'd like to remain free of these if/when I do share it, I suggest you stay away!

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Lɪɴᴋs ..
⤷ back to my tracker
⤷ main cabin
⤷ pirate cabin
⤷ word adding

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Fᴀʀᴇᴡᴇʟʟ ..
⤷ thank you for visiting my humble journal ; may the best cabin win <3

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Dᴀɪʟʏ 001 ..
⤷ 463 words
⤷ 400 points

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As the bell rang through the halls, students spilled out of their classrooms, chattering eagerly with their friends and waving goodbyes before trotting off in separate directions. From the rather tucked-away classroom of 030, one was a bit less excited than the others– a short eighth grader with dirty blond hair by the name of Mira. While it was true that she enjoyed school perhaps more than the others in the same classroom, she was waiting for a friend and this was the reason for their uncharacteristic languid movements. Before long, though, another girl stood from her chair, pastel-colored backpack swinging. “Are you ready for science class?” Cameron asked, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder. Mira shrugged, trying not to betray her excitement. “I’ve heard that Ms. B is back,” they commented before leading the way from the warm classroom. The teacher had been absent for around a week previously. Science was the two eighth graders’ second-favorite class– after, of course, Latin. Luckily for them, they would have that class directly after, during fifth period. Despite the complaints of many of Mira and Cameron’s friends, both enjoyed learning the ancient language, and it was the highlight of their days. But before they could turn to either class, there was the difficult matter of stairs. Unfortunately for the entire eighth grade body, their classes were on the ground floor; far, far away from the third floor, where all of the science classrooms lay. Having counted the stairs many times before, Mira knew that there were 63 precisely. Knowing this information didn’t make each step easier, though. The monstrous height of the stairs was the bane of most eighth graders’ existence, but soon Cam and Mira had reached the second floor. You see, Ms. B’s classroom was 324– on the opposite side of the school as 030 was. Although they could take any of the center hallways to cross over, the one on the second floor was by far their favorite, since this was where the seventh graders’ realm lay. Although “sixies” (as upperclassmen liked to call them, due to the six years they still had to go) could be quite annoying, the trouble was worth it in order to visit Ms. L, Cam and Mira’s Latin teacher from last year. As they approached her room, Mira noted with a twinge of disappointment that a substitute teacher stood stoically outside the open door. Oh well. There would always be tomorrow, wouldn’t there? For now, the friends would have to focus on getting to science on time– because as the shorter student glanced at their watch, she whispered under her breath, “Shoot– we’ve only got around 30 seconds.” Cam and Mira quickened their pace, hoping that Ms. B would decide to be merciful today.

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Nᴏᴛᴇs ..
⤷ I tried to include as much reality in this as possible without revealing too much information! Here's all the things that are true:
❀ I am in eighth grade; my math classroom is 030 and my science classroom is 324.
❀ I am short, I enjoy school, (with science and Latin being among my favorite classes) and I have dirty blond hair.
❀ The friend that I walk from math class to science class with does have a pastel backpack, blond hair, and a name that begins with C.
❀ My science teacher's name begins with B and my old Latin teacher's name begins with L.
❀ Seventh graders are called sixies, and there are 63 stairs between the ground floor and the third floor.
⤷ However, some details were fabricated, such as:
❀ In reality I'm rarely late to class. Also, if I claimed that we only had thirty seconds until the bell rang, “Cam” would immediately tell me that my
watch was wrong and hers was better
❀ My science teacher usually is pretty nice about lateness because she knows that it's a long trek to get there. She also hasn't been absent for
long periods of time.

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Dᴀɪʟʏ 002 ..
⤷ 278 words
⤷ 400 points + 100 for sharing ; 500 total

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I'm a bit of a mix between pantster and plotter; I plot out most of my story but leave some room to move around. Today, though, I've tried not planning things out at all, and here's the result! This is an excerpt from a story (with a working title) about the magical city of Gloaming, a bus that has no driver, and the odd occurrences that take place in said bus, all centered around a girl by the name of Eleonora “Nora” Wanderlust.

Nora hadn’t even realized that the bus had pulled up until Julian nervously pulled at her sleeve, ushering her through the door, her having been too lost in her own narrations to have noticed the world around her. But there was the empty driver’s seat, and the welcoming faces of several other passengers. The windows were open today as well, a sign that spring was nearly upon Gloaming, although it often stubbornly stayed rather chilly until mid-May. Soon it would be warm enough that they would be able to walk home without piling on layers and layers of winter jackets. Despite all the magic floating around the city, even still no one had discovered a way to coax the cold into leaving them a bit sooner.
Julian took his place then, sitting in the seat closest to the front of the bus with his backpack directly beside him, where he could lean on the wall that separated the passengers from the driver (had there been one) without interruption. On the other hand, Nora preferred the center, closer to the second set of doors. It placed her right in the middle of everything, although if someone was having an especially bad day she might shift around a bit in order to comfort them. Everything was in order: first Julian, at the front; then there was Kaya and Meibell right between Nora and him; Doe was sitting right behind the second doors, with a squirrel perched on each shoulder, both of which seemed to be squabbling over an acorn; finally, Khais was regally splayed out over two seats in order to accommodate his lower half. Just as it should be.

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Wᴇᴇᴋʟʏ 001 , Pᴀʀᴛ 001 ..
⤷ 902 words
⤷ 700 points

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Part 01 [ note that this takes place in the same universe as Eleonora’s story and contains major spoilers, so if you’d like to be clean for any future parts of the stories I share, I recommend that you do not read this! ]
⤷ Protagonist ; Alice Harrier / Antagonist ; Orlando Harrier / Deuteragonists ; Kaya Pinchfeld, Meibelle Sorandi / Tertiary Characters ; Servants, Amelia Harrier
⤷ Another day, another outrageous expectation from Alice Harrier’s parents. Every morning, she stepped from the comfortable confines of her bedroom and there would more often than not be a servant waiting for her, hair pulled back into a neat braid in order to show respect to the kitsune family. “Your father requests your presence at the council meeting,” they would announce, or “Your mother wishes you to find a new dress for the ball this weekend.” It was exhausting, and Alice didn’t know how much longer she could stand it. The only break in her day came during her mealtimes– they were taken in her room with only the company of one Kaya Pinchfeld. Kaya was a dwarf and Alice’s favorite guard, but what they lacked in height they more than made up for with strength and, she had been surprised to find, wit. In order to distract from the unfortunate cage her life had been placed into, Kaya would tell stories which came directly from the bus they took in order to come to the Harriers’ home (although castle might have been a more appropriate word, Alice’s father insisted that as councilmembers they had an obligation to think of themselves as equals to the other citizens of Gloaming. This was one of the– many– things she disliked about Orlando Harrier: his tendency to display his wealth for all to see, then claim that he still thought of himself as a peasant like everyone else.)
⤷ After breakfast came, of course, Guardian training. Although the Harriers presented themselves as a prestigious family which had held a hand in the council for ages, it was all a facade in order to preserve their real purpose in the running of Gloaming: Gray Guardians. The Gray was the realm of the dead, overlaid atop the living realm, but it was dangerous. It could be entered through a dream, and exiting it was extremely difficult; for this reason, the Guardians had been created to seal it and make sure it stayed that way. Alice knew that there was one other Guardian family in Gloaming, but who they were, she had no idea, and her parents always said (of course) that she needn’t concern herself with them. Her own training was more important.
⤷ And so there Alice stood, directly before the large, imposing doors which led to the courtyard. She had been there for a minute or two now, wondering to herself if this was truly necessary, if she couldn’t just decide one day, ‘You know, I think I will run away and become a traveling coconut vendor.’ Alas, some obedient soul inside of her forced Alice’s hand to rise and knock, tentatively, on the dark wooden surface.
⤷ “Enter,” came a cold voice, despite her comments over the years that shouldn’t it technically be ‘exit’, since the courtyard was outside and she was currently inside? Whatever the case, the Guardian-in-training breathlessly pushed open the heavy doors to see her father, sitting cross-legged on a large stone slab, his fox tail curled around his feet. Kitsunes never lost their tails, nor did they cast a shadow. It was one of the ways that in the old years, hunters told them apart, but for the most part now the prejudice against them had died out aside from a couple accusing glares here and there. Orlando opened a single, golden slit eye, and looked down upon Alice. “Have you mastered the assignment I’ve given you?” he inquired with an eyebrow raise.
⤷ “Of course, Father,” she replied meekly. Last month, he had told her that she would need to be able to shape-shift not just from a human to a fox, but to any animal in between. Of course it came easy to him and Amelia (her mother) but it would seem that they had forgotten how difficult it could be to learn it for the first time. After hours of practice, staying up until the wee hours, Alice had finally managed to find the shape of a deer (the latest assignment)… most of the time, anyway. Now, Orlando nodded in a “go ahead” gesture. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled.
⤷ Magic was a funny thing. For other residents of Gloaming who could access it, they claimed that it felt like a tingling in their hands before it occurred, but Alice never did. She would visualize her shift, and it would appear as a golden, ghostly animal ahead of her. In this particular case, the young doe, a beautiful specimen, was perched directly in Orlando’s lap, and she had to stop herself from giggling. Next, Alice would call the creature closer to her, and it would come. It always came. Placing a hand to the doe’s head, they would merge, and Alice would come out of the whole ordeal as the animal. Shifting back was much easier; she would simply think less like a deer and more like a human. Shifting back Alice could do.
⤷ As the Guardian opened her eyes, she found that they were larger and more expressive than usual, and her normally clumsy feet were small and dainty, and also had doubled in number. As she lifted her chin to her father, there was something odd occurring with his facial features, something that was rarely seen on the old, imposing man. He was… smiling slightly, at her, and not in mockery. “Passable,” Orlando commented with a scoff, ruining the moment.

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parts 2 +3 hopefully coming soon!

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Dᴀɪʟʏ 003 ..
⤷ 383 words
⤷ 400 points + 100 for sharing ; 500 total

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In a world where the hostile jungle covered everything, defense was necessary, to say the least. There were a few colonies of humans left, if they could be called that– for while the predators and plants had evolved to be twice as large and six times as deadly, humans too had gained an interesting feature: the scales of an armadillo. Now children were taught, as soon as their scales grew in, how to safely tuck themselves into a ball and escape the predators, if it came to that. Hiding was, of course, the first defense. The people of Darryn’s safe, underground village were instructed never to leave, unless it was their job (the hunters and foragers still needed permission, even though it was their job). But there was another career path you could take which allowed you to venture into the jungle, and it was this that Darryn aspired to be: a defender. The foragers and hunters were taught which plants and animals would kill you if you ate them. They were taught how to camouflage themselves in case of emergency, how to pull a plant up so that it would still regrow, and how to take down an animal without harming the meat it would provide. Only the defenders, though, were taught how to fight. Darryn’s father and his father before him had been defenders. The defenders were the guards of the village, and it was the most dangerous job you could have, even if everything done in the jungle was taken with a hint of danger. Luckily for Darryn, they thrived on danger, or at least it didn’t scare them as much as it did other people. There were only two years until they would be old enough to begin training, even if their scales had completely grown it. Spears, it was said, were not for the faint of heart, and a ‘child’ so young as them (thirteen! Darryn practically bristled at the implications!) would be too likely to hurt another. It was best to rely on your scales until then, but even still they could hardly wait. Too often they would sneak in and watch their father training all of the new recruits, although too often they were caught as well. Perhaps there was still more Darryn needed to learn.

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Dᴀɪʟʏ 004 ..
⤷ 258 words
⤷ 300 points + 100 for sharing ; 400 total

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Personally, one of my favorite cliches is enemies to lovers, although it’s a fairly common favorite. I think that this is because I’m (secretly) a fan of queer romance novels but still enjoy a bit more interesting of a plot more than just “two people fall in love and live happily ever after”; for me, a darker story is highly preferred, something that the enemies portion of this cliche could provide in several stories. In addition, the inner conflict of “Oh, I hate this person, but I actually really like them, now I hate myself for that” is also very interesting to me because I struggle with it a bit myself! Whenever I think about two positive things about someone in a row my brain basically bullies me into believing that I have a crush on them even if they’re my mortal enemy. I’m not really sure on how I’m planning to use this in Eleonora’s story, since I don’t think that there will be much romance. However, two of the regulars on the 24 bus (Meibelle and Kaya) will likely be a couple so while it wouldn’t take place while the story is progressing I might be able to work it into their backstory. Most likely, Meibelle would have worked as a cook in the same household Kaya did until the latter caught the former stealing from the household and ratted her out. A couple of months later, Kaya would come across them on the bus and apologize, leading the two to become friends and eventually, lovers.

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Dᴀɪʟʏ 005 ..
⤷ 419 words
⤷ 500 points + 100 for sharing ; 600 total

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The Pied Piper ..
Louisa Grey, often know as “the Grey Lady”, was an interesting character. If you ventured anywhere near the town forest from the time school let out to around seven at night, you would be certain to come across her, although it would be less certain that you would escape her arachnid-like clutches once you were ensnared in her clutches. During the school day, the young girl was rarely seen traversing the halls; she seemed to mysteriously show up wherever she was needed (or wherever she was distinctly unneeded) perfectly on time, not a single pencil out of its place in her neatly organized backpack. Her deep, raven-black hair had faded white tips, which in addition to her name was how she had received her nickname, and it hung nearly to her waist and she had long curtain bangs which often hid her piercingly ice-blue eyes, giving her a mysterious and cold appearance. Louisa made a point of knowing precisely what was going on around her to pin-point accuracy. Those who have come into any sort of contact with her ought to count on the fact that she would know their schedule, even if she hardly considered them anything close to “friends”. The material taught in class was already learned by Louisa long before her peers had even heard what they would be speaking about that week, and though she rarely raised her hand to answer questions in class, it seemed to be unspoken knowledge that it was because she thought herself above the others. Now, you must be wondering about the abode Louisa held in the forest. It was unknown where she slept at night or where she took her meals, for after she had left the school yard she would travel directly to the thick trees and take up a perch in the largest and oldest oak in the place. Cobwebs hung from its branches, seemingly in place of leaves for there were few. The young children she spotted wandering nearby she would lure in with the enticing promise of a story not for the faint of heart– a promise on which she always delivered. “More, more,” were the repeated cries of her victims, and she would keep them there for ages, leaving their family to wonder where they had fled to. If anyone too close to her own age or older than her appeared, they would mysteriously find the oak absent of a young girl, with only an owl or a squirrel staring forlornly down at them.

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Nᴏᴛᴇs ..
⤷ name by Iris!
⤷ since Louisa shares a name with the main character, I slightly based her off of Mercy from Forest of Stars!

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Wᴇᴇᴋʟʏ 001 , Pᴀʀᴛ 002 ..
⤷ 295 words
⤷ 300 points

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ORLANDO: Stock Character
⤷ { NAME : Orlando Harrier } { Title : Councilmember Harrier } { Gender : Male (he/him) } { Sexuality : Straight } { Age : 52 years } { Personality : (+) Resourceful, charismatic, logical (= ) ambitious, cold, meticulous, stubborn (-) manipulative, selfish, harsh } { Appearance : A menacingly tall man with dark skin, piercing ice-blue eyes, and sharp features as well as long raven-black hair worn in a thin ponytail. Often wears a prim, black suit and matching shined shoes. Pale ginger fox tail, often hidden by a long tailcoat. } { Hobbies : Vengeance, trickery, attending Council meetings } { Relationships : Amelia Harrier (wife) Alice Harrier (daughter) } { Likes : Power, money, stormy weather } { Dislikes : his enemies, dogs/wolves, not being able to see } { Notes : embodies the “tricky fox” stereotype }

ALICE: Plausible Character
⤷ { NAME : Alice Harrier } { Gender : Female (she/her) } { Sexuality : Aro-ace } { Age : 19 years } { Personality : (+) Empathetic, creative, studious (= ) pessimistic, tidy, daydreamer, quiet (-) inconfident, self-deprecating, mistrustful } { Appearance : An average-height and slightly chubby girl with brown skin, warm blue eyes, and dark hair worn in two braids. Often wears a black sweater and gray leggings, as well as combat boots and hoop earrings. } { Hobbies : Practicing shifts, reading, birdwatching } { Relationships : Amelia Harrier (mother) Orlando Harrier (father) Kaya (bodyguard/mentor figure) } { Likes : Thrushes, the ocean, rainy days (but not stormy ones) } { Dislikes : her father, waking up early, being weak }

KAYA: Flat Character
⤷ { NAME : Kaya Harrier } { Gender : Non-binary (they/them) } { Sexuality : Finsexual } { Age : 31 years } { Personality : (+) brave, loyal, reasonable (= ) confident, childish, happy-go-lucky, can be aggressive (-) reckless, often lonely, undisciplined } { Appearance : A chubby olive-skinned dwarf with slightly green-tinted hair along with pointed ears and golden eyes. Often wears a faded pink tank top, a tool belt (including their enormous axe, with which they never go without) and carries a shield. } { Hobbies : Training, exercising } { Relationships : Meibelle (significant other) } { Likes : Taking the bus, being warm, Meibelle } { Dislikes : Being cold, ostentatious rich people }

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Wᴇᴇᴋʟʏ 001 , Pᴀʀᴛ 003 ..
⤷ 1233 words
⤷ 1000 points

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⤷ The sky still held some semblance of light when Alice reached the bus stop, despite the city of Gloaming living up to its name well, but even both it and Kaya beside her was no comfort to the trembling kitsune. Her father had gotten angry before, but he had never yelled; his cruelty was of the cold, cunning type, which came back two years later when you had forgotten why it had even snuck in through the window in the first place. Today, though, would seem to be different.
⤷ It had started innocently enough, as it always did, being woken at dawn by the light filtering through the window panes. How could the sunbeams of the morning seem so warm and welcoming to others, yet so cold and forbidding to Alice? The tall ceilings of her room certainly didn’t help it to feel like a comforting haven where she could be herself; the walls could be glass melting into a squirming floor of cockroaches and she would feel the same. No matter what half-hearted decorations her mother tried to utilize, it was still a part of the Harrier Manor. It was still a reminder that she would always belong to the family name.
⤷ Things had gotten sticky just after breakfast, when Alice had bade farewell to Kaya and had just begun the too-short walk from the dining room to the courtyard when Orlando Harrier seemed to appear out of nowhere, treading regally beside her. “I don’t like how much time you’ve been spending with that… servant,” he informed her, fox tail swishing and nose wrinkling. “Kaya’s a bodyguard,” Alice reminded her father with a twinge of anger at his controlling demeanor, “and you assigned them to me, remember?” At that, Orlando had just sniffed, quickening his pace, although hardly noticeably. “Either way, they’re distracting from your training. It is you who ought to remember their status– they aren’t a friend or an equal. They are here to serve. Now come.” Though she wished more than anything to refuse, to yell, to run back to her room and lock the door, Alice silently fell into line behind him. One day she would rebel. One day– not today.
⤷ But the stickiest situation of them all came when the heavy wooden doors to the courtyard grinded shut. Alice’s father stood that way, facing away from her, for a beat, before speaking. “I have a challenge for you,” he murmured as he traced a finger along the wood grain. He had told her many times before about how the doors were as old as the city itself, crafted by ancient dwarves specifically for the ancient Harriers. They were another reminder of the expectations heaped atop any child unfortunate enough to enter the world within the walls of the nursery on the ground floor. After another beat, Alice worked up the courage to inquire, “And what might that be? If, of course, I choose to accept it?” At this, Orlando huffed a laugh; the cold, cruel sound she had come to dread. “There is no ‘if’, child,” he threatened. “There is only ‘when’. I am not giving you a choice. Although I am not confident you will be able to rise to the challenge, it is time.” These words made Alice very nervous, as the mystery and graveness with which he held them were never a good thing. If Orlando Harrier wished not to inform you of something, you could almost always rest assured that it would not be something easy or even full of goodwill. It didn’t seem wise to ask him once more what the task was, so Alice waited while he fingered the door, his eyes cast downward.
⤷ “There is a new shift I’d like you to practice, but it’s difficult,” offered the tall kitsune. Alice exhaled. A new shift was easy; she could do that. Surely even he couldn’t make anything terrible out of– out of a shift! The idea that she had been so worried seemed laughable, now. She was about to laugh out loud and ask, ‘That’s all?’ when Orlando made it very clear that no, that wasn’t all. “It would please me very well if you would shift yourself into one Orlando Harrier.”
⤷ So this was why he had seemed more uptight this morning. Expectations, expectations, all of them expectations! No kitsune, not even her father himself, had ever successfully shifted into another person; not one they had seen, anyway. The very best had managed to transform into a character whom they were unfamiliar with, when it didn’t matter their accuracy, but somehow Alice knew that if she didn’t get every wrinkle on Orlando’s annoyingly poised face perfect, there would be consequences. And so she said it, plainly: “It can’t be done.” Her voice sounded young and reedy, an innocent child begging for their toy not to be taken away rather than a mature Guardian-in-training informing her father of the limits of the very universe itself. “Or can it?” smirked Orlando. And where he stood, the tall man closed his eyes. There was a shimmer in the air– dread coursed through Alice at the sight of that shimmer– before slowly but surely, there before her stood Amelia Harrier.
⤷ “No– you’re– this is dark magic, father, dark magic!” Alice insisted once more. In Gloaming, there wasn’t quite a definition to what ‘dark magic’ was– all magic tired the user, and some magic could be used for unsavory purposes, but it wasn’t as though their was a restricted section at the library informing one how to kill painfully and slowly with magic. There just simply wasn’t a way to do it. She didn’t know how her father had managed the shift so completely (and was not completely positive she wished to know) but she did know that it was not supposed to happen. Suddenly Alice felt an overwhelming desire to get out. Get out of the courtyard, get out of the house, get anywhere as long as she could be away from her father and his crooked power. Even from here she could tell that it was putting a strain on him; a shift shouldn’t be doing that, proof that it was disrupting something fundamental. Wrenching open the doors of the courtyard, Alice slipped through the narrow crack which she could open (for, as mentioned previously, they were rather heavy) before her father could stop her. The halls were a blur as she flew past them. Pictures on the walls turned to faint notions in the corner of her mind, while the torches became pricks of light which didn’t seem to stop the darkness crowding in on her own home.
⤷ Before long, Alice had found her way to her bedroom, where Kaya (Kaya, so sweet and so noble, always loyal to her, unlike the two-faced father she was forced upon) was waiting. As soon as they saw the state she was in, they hurriedly shut the door and pulled Alice roughly onto the bed. “What happened? Was it your father?” Kaya, after all, was the only living soul whom she felt comfortable telling of Orlando’s cruelty.
“In a way,” Alice carefully worded the sentence. “But– if you wouldn’t mind, might I stay at your place tonight?” Sensing that the shaken girl truly needed it, Kaya pulled her in for a hug. “Of course, but we’ll have to leave soon– the bus doesn’t wait.”

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