3/28 (227/350 words): Welcome to the third (and final) bidaily of this session! Bidailies are just like dailies, with two days to complete instead of one. Today is day one of our atmosphere bidaily. First, check out the amazing Alana (@-NightGlow-)’s workshop here ( https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7042744/ ). For the first part of the bi-daily you will be working with a partner. Both of you will agree upon a setting or location and describe it in at least 200 words. Afterwards, compare the differences in how the two of you interpreted the setting, and write an additional 150 words reflecting on some of the differences and similarities in your interpretations. The workshop contains more information on the activity–make sure to read it before getting started!

Also, the Memory Book Cover Contest is in need of more entries for our contest! The deadline has been extended by a few days in order to give more people an opportunity to enter the MBCC. Here's the link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/816062348/

(My partner was @CookieRun_Kat and the location we chose was a boat )

Describing the Setting (227/200 words):
Fog as thick as mud and as white as a ghost surrounded the swamp, which bubbled and burped. The croaking of frogs and the creaking of crickets was the soundtrack of the bog—making music all day and night for the few who stopped to listen. The swamp was a mix of browns and greens—the greens being the few plants that lined the edges of sod and willow trees that arced over the water. It always gave off a salty and stinky odor—the result of the mix of mud and lakewater. In fact, so much so that locals liked to call it “The Stinky Bog”. And in the midst of it all was a boat—one that was as dark as wet soil. Half of its hull had been swallowed by the bog that sat below it. You could still hear the creaking of wood as it slowly decayed and sunk from years of being stranded there. It was infested with animals—mostly bugs of all shapes, colors, and sizes—that chewed up parts of the boat until there was nothing left to chew anymore. As a result, it was covered in gaping holes (mainly in the deck). It had actually been deserted for so long that plants and vines had started growing on and around, and it had started to look like it was actually a part of the landscape.

My Partner’s Writing:
The calm looking waters and the sights relaxed me while I was watching the boats leave the docks. I haven’t been on one ever, to be honest. Just sticking to watching them leave and return is good enough for me. I place my focus back on all of the boats as I take in a breath of fresh air. A relaxing moment like this helps me take my mind off of all of the stuff that’s happened, honestly. But what if I did go on one, some day? Just for fun. It might be somewhat exciting, who knows?

A week later.

I guess boats aren’t that bad, once you get used to how much they move- Or is that just the way the water is? I can’t really tell. But from what I’ve noticed, they’re quite… loud? Annoying? I mean, it isn’t too bad… If I just drown out the sound of everyone talking and focus on the view, it’s actually calm. I focus on the sound of the waves as well as I take in a deep breath. Maybe this is just what I needed. A break from everyone else. A nice, relaxing place to-

“I bet you didn’t expect me to be here.”

Comparing Differences and Similarities (161/150 words):
Some similarities between us is how we both wrote about a boat in water. Some differences I found between each other’s writing was how I wrote in a more descriptive manner (without a story or plot), while my partner, Ender, made it more like an actual story with a character and a plot that was just describing the landscape in that moment. I also noticed how my mood was more dark and mysterious, while Ender’s was more light(hearted) but still mysterious and a bit anxious. I also discovered that mine was wordy and descriptive, while my partner’s centered more around their main character’s feelings. Another difference is how we wrote a boat in different landscapes. For example, I wrote about a boat in a swamp, while my partner wrote about a boat in the sea. All in all, those were the main similarities and differences that I noticed when reading and comparing my partner’s and my own pieces of writing.

SWC March 2023 Weekly #4 - A Smarllsy Adventure on the High Seas (SAOTHS)

Activity #1 (377/300 words):

Andromeda “Andi” Guenther (the main character) (146/100 words):
Andromeda Guenther, known as Andi to close friends, is a French-American, eighteen-year-old girl with wavy, golden-blonde hair and tan skin. She is also a detective and has dark brown, almond-shaped eyes that sparkle whenever she uncovers a clue. Many people think she is beautiful, and because of this, her age, and her gender, living as an avid detective in the early 1900s has proven to be very difficult for her—especially for her and her cases to be taken seriously. Additionally, Andi is sarcastic, down to Earth, carefree, nonchalant, and is alike and could be compared to the character Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. One stereotype (from mystery story archetypes) she fits into is how she’s a detective, and one stereotype she doesn’t fit into is how she actually isn’t smart, but she finds out things randomly (yet is very good at it).

(dumb)

Phillip Myers (the (main) side character) (115/100 words):
Phillip Myers is a French, nineteen-year-old male with slightly long, curly, dark brown hair (so dark it looks almost black). Andromeda Gunther is one of his best friends, and he works with her as her partner—which is also one of the features of the stereotypical archetypes in a typical mystery story. Phillip is pretty smart and witty, which is (therefore) why he is Andromeda’s partner; he helps Andi in her cases with his intelligence (this is also how he doesn't fit into mystery archetypes). But despite his smarts, he is pretty coy and doesn’t like to be in the spotlight, rather preferring to let Andi take the reins and be the leader of… well, anything.

(smart(er than the detective))

Charles Schmidt (the culprit) (116/100 words):
Charles Schmidt is the actual culprit of the story. He is a twenty-nine-year-old black man with carefully combed, slicked back, tar-black hair and a well-groomed mustache. One way he fits into archetypes is how he is the culprit in the plot because of his past with the main character. But one way he doesn’t is because he’s actually misunderstood and didn’t want to wrong him (but was pushed and manipulated by his wife). Charles, most commonly called Mr. Schmidt by his peers and colleagues, is also very much like the character Snape from the Harry Potter franchise (seemingly cold on the outside, but actually very human, kind, and caring on the inside, sarcastic, loyal, monotone, etc.).

(didn’t want to k!ll people, just committed the crime, wife told him to)

Activity #2 (158/150 words):
Describe the mystery in your story in around 150 words! Make sure to give enough hints that the reader has an idea of what’s going on but doesn’t know the full story.

(I left out the suspects and a few other things )

Exhausted from their most recent case, Andi and Phillip have decided to take a vacation. However, going to Paris wasn’t what they had expected. They stayed at a hotel that seemed normal (like any other hotel they’ve been at before), but after two days spent there, meeting their neighbors made them both realize that something was definitely off. But the next morning, someone’s found dead in their room. The problem is, after some investigating, Andi and Phillip realize that there is absolutely no connection between all of the people who are staying there and the body lying in the hotel room. So who did it, how, and why? But Andi and Phillip also have an approaching deadline looming over them—and only a short amount of time! In their hardest case yet, will Andi and Phillip be able to solve it in time, or will the culprit escape and their spree of solved cases finally come to an end?

(no connection between charles, but between his wife)

Activity #3 (0/350 words):
During the next 350 words, give your characters and readers a few important clues that will be crucial to solving their mystery. Remember to keep the amount of information from overflowing.

3/26 (256/250 words): Today's daily is all about constellations! Using a constellation of your choice, write a fictional essay or story on how it came to exist— you can incorporate different aspects of it into your essay, such as the names of the stars, the meaning behind them, and so on. 250 words for 200 points, plus an extra 50 points for sharing!

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

Also, the Memory Book Cover Contest is in need of more entries for our contest! The deadline has been extended by a few days in order to give more people an opportunity to enter the MBCC. Here's the link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/816062348/

(Below is completely fictional btw lol)

The constellation Andromeda can be found North of the night sky. There are many different stories on how the constellation came to be, but here is what I think. Andromeda, daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, was an ugly girl who lived during Ancient Greece times. Even her parents hated her and agreed that she was an ugly brat who deserved nothing but getting thrown onto the streets, poor and homeless—which they did. How unfortunate that she was their only child, they thought. She was so ugly, in fact, that when a sea monster came that could only leave the city if someone was sacrificed, immediately everyone had a consensus that Andromeda would be the one who was sacrificed. So the citizens, eager to get rid of her once and for all (since no one liked her and thought she was a nuisance to them all), wrapped her up in chains and confined her to a cliff. The citizens actually hated her so much that after they tied her up, they watched from above (on land), waiting for her to be swallowed up with baited breath. Yet she was left there for days (to the citizens’ disappointment), deprived of food and water and the chains burning into her aching arms, before the sea monster finally rose up and ate her. The Greek gods noticed this, however, and took pity on her. So they transformed her body into a constellation. Even now, you can still see her arms stretched out in the constellation, helplessly chained to that cliff.

3/23 (334/300 words): What's an old piece of writing you've never finished? Add 300 words to it! If you don't have any unfinished pieces, write 300 words of something you're currently working on. 300 words for 200 points!

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

Also, the Memory Book Cover Contest is in need of more entries for our contest! The deadline has been extended by a few days in order to give more people an opportunity to enter the MBCC. Here's the link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/816062348/

(I continued an old Harry Potter fanfic about Bellatrix Lestrange’s daughter)

“That’ll be all for today,” Dumbledore finally stated. “Now, let’s eat!”
Immediately, food appeared on all of the golden plates placed in front of the students. The food was in all shapes and sizes, which made Ron especially eager, who immediately started chowing down on them.
“I can’t believe Bellatrix’s daughter is here. At Hogwarts. Why did Dumbeldore let her come?” Hermione asked, barely touching her food.
“I can barely believe Bellatrix has a daughter,” Harry muttered as he picked up a fork.
“In Slytherin, mind you,” Ron added in the middle of a spoonful.
Everyone was talking roughly about the same thing they had—who was Bellatrix’s daughter? Why was she here?
Harry looked at the new girl—Michelle, was it? She looked almost… lonely. She was talking with Draco Malfoy, and they looked like they were getting along. But as she picked at her food, she squared her shoulders and stared at her food, not looking at the houses’ tables around her and the students who were throwing paper balls—probably made from the napkins—at the back of her head.
Harry started to feel almost sorry for her, but then Hermione said, “I’m going to ask Dumbledore about it.”
Harry blinked. “What? What do you mean? About what?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “About Michelle, silly. There’s no way she’s allowed to stay here. Maybe there’s been a… misunderstanding, or something. So I’m going to talk to Dumbledore about the whole thing and, you know, maybe try to convince him to make her leave.”
“When?” said Harry.
Hermione shrugged. “I’m not really sure yet. Maybe right after dinner. The sooner the better, you know?”
Harry frowned. “I don’t know, Hermione. It just seems a little… rude, doesn’t it?”
Ron scoffed between mouthfuls. “Good riddance, I say.”
“I’m with Ron,” said Hermione. “Did you forget what her mother did? She traumatized Neville’s parents, remember?”
They all looked towards Neville.
“Maybe you’re right,” Harry muttered hesitantly, but something deep in the back of his mind told him otherwise.

3/22 (375/250 words): Think of a book that needed a sequel but didn't get it. Well, you're the author now! Take your favorite book and write the opening for a sequel to it! 250 words for 300 points, plus an extra 100 points for sharing your writing!

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

Also, the Memory Book Cover Contest is in need of more entries for our contest! The deadline has been extended by a few days in order to give more people an opportunity to enter the MBCC. Here's the link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/816062348/

(I did the Disney+ show Loki )

(Removed bc cringe :eyes

3/20 - 3/21 (55/50 words): It’s that time again: bidaily time! Bidailies are like dailies, with two days to complete activities instead of one. Today is day two. For this bidaily, we’ll be focusing on editing. First, read through the marvelous Moonlit’s workshop on editing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/670813/?page=1#post-7068016 Then, choose a piece of yours, preferably longer than 800 words, and edit it focusing on two of the parts discussed in the workshop. Finally, reflect for 50 words about the process and the changes you made. This bidaily is worth 400 points and you can earn an extra 100 points for sharing all parts.

Extra Prompt: For this bidaily’s extra prompt, try a different editing technique on a piece of writing! Revising your work multiple times will improve your writing, especially if you try using different ways of editing. No points for this extra prompt.

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

Edited writing (980/690 (new/original total) words):
fear thumping in my
veins
heart bursting from my
chest
hope withering like a
flower
why does this hurt so
much?

I clear my throat and gaze up at the woman standing in front of me before pleading, “Please, I just need a few minutes with her.”
The official doesn’t even care to look at me as she grumbles, “You can go. Next!”
I suppress my surprise at her curtness before making my way through the Justice Building, making sure to keep my head down as the hallway is lined with peacekeepers. I manage to find an empty bench and sit on it. Several feet in front of me is a closed door with two peacekeepers keeping guard on either side. I stare blankly at it as I wait, almost as if I can see through it, and tap my foot against the pristine, tile floor impatiently.
After a few minutes pass, I get up, deciding that I have to keep pacing, keep moving—anything but think of what awaits Katniss in the games.
I mutter barely audible, random trains of thought to myself as I walk, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart and ignore the condescending thoughts already popping up in my head. I can see the peacekeepers surrounding me staring at me like I’m a psychopath from the corner of my eyes, but I don’t care.
I still can’t believe that this is happening. I mean, we both knew that this could happen eventually, but I don’t think either of us expected that it would.
How is this even possible? I mean, my name was put in forty-two times. Prim’s was only put in once. Once! And yet she, of all people, was the girl who was chosen at the Reaping.
I clench my fist.
It’s not fair…
But really, when has it ever been?
I should have volunteered. So I could help keep Katniss safe.
But I doubt she would have liked that. She’s too strong-headed.
And besides, I need to be here—to support both of our families while she’s away.
She needs me.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, and I look up to see Madge walking out. She puts her hand on my shoulder sympathetically, and I look to one peacekeeper as she leaves. He nods his head, signaling that I’m allowed to enter.
I take a deep breath in hopes of feeling more relaxed—without luck—and open the door.
Katniss is there. Her dark hair is draped around her shoulders, and her charcoal-gray eyes look distraught as they dart around the room like a wild animal trapped in a cage.
A scared wild animal.
A small, golden brooch with the shape of a mockingjay carved into its center is pinned near her right shoulder—the same badge that Madge had been wearing only moments earlier. Madge must have given it to her.
I open my arms, and Katniss runs into them without hesitation.
We stay there for a while, just holding each other in our arms. I close my eyes, taking in the slow, rhythmic beating of her heart in unison with mine, and the way the strands of her messy, black hair bristles when she’s nervous.
I don’t want to let go.
But finally, she’s the first to pull away.
“Listen,” I start, resting my hands on her shoulders, “getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you’ve got to get your hands on a bow. That’s your best chance.”
“They don’t always have bows.”
She has a point.
“Then make one,” I insist. “Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all.”
“I don’t even know if there’ll be wood,” Katniss confesses.
Gosh, does she always have to be so negative?
“There’s almost always some wood,” I add reassuringly, trying to convince both her and myself. “Since that year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that.”
“Yes, there’s usually some,” she admits hesitantly.
I sigh. “Katniss, it’s just hunting. You’re the best hunter I know.”
“It’s not just hunting,” she retorts. “They’re armed. They think.”
“So do you. And you’ve had more practice. Real practice,” I counter. “You know how to kill.”
“Not people,” she snaps.
“How different can it really be?”
Before Katniss can even open her mouth, the peacekeepers barge through the door.
I turn to face them, about to ask for more time, but they grab me and start pulling me back towards the exit. I stumble, try to stop them, and loosen their grip on me, but it’s no use—they’re too strong.
I can see the panic in Katniss’s eyes, and she rushes toward me, crying, “Don’t let them starve!” Desperate, she clutches my hand, and our fingers intertwine as I try my best to hold on.
My voice grows into a shout as I’m yanked near the door and the peacekeepers begin to open it. “I won’t! You know I won’t!
“Katniss, remember I—”
The peacekeepers wrench our hands apart, and the door shuts close.
“…love… you.”
I barely notice the peacekeepers letting go of their hold on me and returning to their posts as I, passive, stand there, staring at the chocolate-brown, wood door before me.
Would that be the last time I saw her?
Stop thinking like that, I chide to myself. If anyone could make it out of the arena, it’s her.
I just hope that that’s true.

* * *

pain erupting from my
core
heart broken like thin
glass
words I wish I had
said
how I wish I could go
back…

“I love you, Peeta.”
“I love you, too.”
I watch as Katniss wraps her arms around Peeta’s neck and kisses him on the screen playing in front of me. Blinking, I turn away abruptly, and barely manage to suppress a sob, hopelessly trying to diminish the hollowness in my heart but failing.
She had never kissed me before…

Reflection (55/50 words):
Editing this piece really made me realize and notice the flaws in my writing and what to look out for in the future. This especially applied to sentence structure, mood, descriptive writing, flow, and generally thinking about adding more literary devices into my writing in the future and mode ways to make my writing better.

3/17 (265/250 words): Flowers have always taken on special meanings. These meanings can be endless, they can change to be incredibly different throughout history! Today, we’re bringing back a daily from last session: Alba’s (@-Alocasia) Language of Flowers project. Flowers are used to send messages and convey emotions, so for this daily, pick a few flowers from the project and use them (and their meanings) to write a 250 word story for 300 points. You can also earn an extra 100 points from sharing.

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

(Flowers chosen: An ashphodel (my regrets follow you to the grave), an amaranth (immortality), a daisy (innocence), and a dahlia (yours ‘till the end))

No words can express how I feel. Not even an asphodel, an amaranth, a daisy, or a dahlia.
It’s not anyone’s fault in particular. Just mine.
Because I chose this future for me.
Yes, without knowing, perhaps, but… it’s still my fault. No matter how many times you switch it around.
Tom thought differently.
But it doesn’t really matter now that he’s dead. Only that I’m still alive, of course. And have I mentioned that I can’t die? Like, ever?
It all started with a birthday gift. Crazy, I know—like you haven’t heard of stories of fiction where the main character gets something like a curse for her birthday. Only, for me, it was reality. not fiction.
I still remember that day. My eagerness and foolish grins as I ripped open—which quickly turned to opening it carefully after my mother’s annoyed comments—the present placed in front of me.
I still remember the confusion I felt as I stared into the empty, white box.
I had turned to my mom and exclaimed, “There’s nothing inside!”
My mother smiled eerily—in fact, I can still remember it and how it sent chills down my spine…
“Oh, but there is, dear.” she smiled again before saying in a hushed tone, “Look closer.”
I frowned, but I listened to her orders and looked back inside. I gasped when my bright green eyes latched onto a golden brown scroll etched with age that I had sworn hadn’t been there two seconds ago.
I raised my eyebrows and looked towards my mom, astounded. I gently picked it up.
“What does it say?”

3/16 (114/100 words): Today is March 16th - National Panda Day for everyone in the US! In honor of this very special day, write a 100 word poem or story about a character that’s a panda, the fluffy amazingness of pandas, or anything that relates to pandas. This daily is worth 100 points!

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

O, panda, o panda,
How art thou?
With thy black and white painted fur
As soft as a pillow itself,
Why waste thy talents
On eating bamboo,
Climbing flexible trees,
And sitting on the forest floor?
Thou truly aren’t appreciated enough,
Which is why I am here to see thou.
Have I mentioned thy personality?
Relaxed, lazy, and carefree—
There truly is no better animal than thee.
Oh, how I wish I was like thou!
Able to relax and lounge daily,
Without feeling dissatisfied and guilt-ridden!
Truly, no other animal has thy wit or form!
Thou will reign forevermore
As the best animal among the animal kingdom!
Happy National Panda Day!
Forever Yours,
Jade <3

SWC March 2023 Weekly #2 - MENTAL HEALTH & INSPIRATION

PART ONE: Do a Relaxing Activity (247/100 words)

For at least 15 minutes, do an off-screen activity that you enjoy, preferably one that involves going outside or interacting with your friends or family. Then, come back and write at least 100 words reflecting on your activity and how it made you feel. Have fun! <33

For my relaxing activity, I took a shower for about fifteen minutes (including time before and after leading up to the shower (such as changing, and etc.) - I did not actually shower for fifteen minutes haha). I found it very relaxing. For instance, when the water rained down on me, I felt calm, serene, and at peace. I always take a shower at the end of the day (as well as daily!), and I find it a great way to reflect on past events and the day overall, which is also how I felt today. Additionally, I took time to analyze my surroundings, and the constant fall of the water on me and how it sounds when it hits the bottom became almost melodic and meditative sounding. In fact, I sometimes fall asleep to the sounds of rain playing on my phone, and showering reminded me of this. And since the rain also makes me feel sleepy, showering today also did, which helped me get ready for bed, fall asleep, and prepare for the day ahead of me. Lastly, when I finished, I felt much cleaner and more refreshed. It also made me feel like the grime from earlier had washed off of me—which was true, of course. Overall, I felt very at peace, calm, and it was a great way to end my day and go to bed. It also made me feel cleaner and more stress-free than I had been before. I definitely recommend it!

PART TWO: Consume Media (309/100 words)

Take a moment to read/view/listen to any medium of art you wish. This could be:
- watching a movie or show
- reading a book, even if it's just a few chapters
- listening to a song
- admiring a visual/piece of artwork

Whatever you decide to do, focus on it to the fullest of your abilities and avoid distractions to absorb every detail. After you've done that, write 100 words of reflection!

(I listened to the sped up version of Tikkle Me - Blow My Brains Out)

First, the song starts with just the instrumental track, a fast, potter-patter type of beat that reminds me of how fast life moves. The first few verses make me depict someone who’s insecure after comparing themselves with others, which is something I can relate to, and it helps make the song hit harder in a way. Then, when the chorus starts, the instrumentals have added another beat (a sort of night core style one), and the lyrics are very impactful. Especially when it says, “Unlucky me, aware of the pain all because I happen to have a brain”, makes me envision someone who’s been hurt and compares herself to others with jealousy because they are happy, living their best life, and have not gone through nor felt how it feels to be like the person who’s “speaking”. The way it’s portrayed and how the vocals are sung also makes me feel pity for the person in particular and connect and relate to it, even though I don’t feel like that too often and don’t really know how it feels, if you know what I mean. The next verses are much like the first few ones—comparing yourself to others, especially your body, your appearance, and generally just the way you look and how that makes you feel that you’re not perfect enough or pretty enough (at least what I think it means)—and the chorus repeats for a few times after that, which really strengthens and keeps the message of the song strong in your mind. It’s generally a short song, but all the feelings from the lyrics are there and are still (and possibly even more) moving. It really makes you start to question society and the way the world is structured and want to connect with others who feel like this and help them feel better about themselves.

PART THREE: Story (506/500 words)

Draw elements from the activity you did in Part 1 and the media you consumed in Part 2, and combine it together into a story of at least 500 words.

(Removed <3)

3/15 (606/200 words): It’s time for a classic and well-loved SWC daily: SWC fanfiction! It’s up to you what you do with this, really. You could write a story about your cabinmates, imagine SWC as a real life camp, tell us about a mango coup, or anything you can come up with as long as it’s related to SWC. 200 words for 200 points, and 50 more if you share proof!

Additionally, the writing comp is out! You can check it out here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819534055

(I did SWC if it was a hunger-games-style camp hehe)

I was standing in the living room, engrossed in the flimsy, paper pages gripped in one hand, the other holding a quill dripping with ink. I barely noticed when someone knocked on the door.
In the back of my mind, I wondered, Who would be here at this hour? Lisa was busy, and Oscar said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow…
But I ignored it and, keeping my glittering, golden-brown eyes glued to the pages, shouted, “Come in!”
I didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching me, their boots almost glued to the wooden floor.
When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned. I was met with a pitch-black bag that covered and was quickly tied around my head. I tried to scream, but it was no use; the fabric was too thick for me to scream and for others nearby to hear me.
Eyes widened, I attempted to kick the stranger, but it (he?) was too strong and ignored my struggles as though they were nothing.
Then there was a clang as something clonked against my head, and as I felt my head going limp and falling into my capture’s arms, my vision faded even darker than the shade of the bag around me.

* * *

When I woke up, the bag had been hastily pulled off of me, and I jerked my head upwards as I scanned my surroundings.
I immediately met the gaze of a teenage girl around my age with blonde hair that fell into loose, corkscrew curls just above her shoulders.
I opened my mouth. “Who are—?”
“I know you must have a lot of questions,” she started, cutting me off, “but they will all be answered in due time.”
I hesitantly closed my mouth as I waited for her to continue.
At my action, she sighed. “Okay, fine; you can have one question.”
I was going to ask who she was and where I was, but I decided against it, instead saying, “What am I here for?”
The girl smiled as if she found my question amusing. “You’re here to write your heart out, unless you want to get killed.”
I blinked.
She exhaled deeply. “This is S-W-C, also known as Savage War Killers.”
I frowned. “But isn’t killer spelled with a—”
“Doesn’t matter!” she spluttered. “Basically, you have to write (inspired by a daily prompt) or the other contestants, commonly called campers, will kill you. But you also have your fellow cabin mates to help you out. And since you’ve been sorted into April, all of your cabin mates are from that cabin and will have a yellow pin on their uniform to help identify themselves, like yours there.”
I looked down, and sure enough, a yellow badge was pinned onto my uniform. I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
“They’re the only people who can’t kill you and help you survive if you manage to work together,” she continued. “So find them first. Now get into the pod before I kill you myself!”
“What pod—?”
The girl pointed to her left, and my eyes landed on a pod that I could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a second ago.
“Now, go!” she insisted, and I went toward it without hesitation.
When I entered the pod, I had barely strapped into my seatbelt when a voice on presumably a loudspeaker boomed, “Welcome to the monthly SWC tournament, where you write or die trying. Have fun, and don’t get killed!”
I barely had time to think when I soon reached the arena.
The voice counted down on the loudspeaker from ten.
As it reached zero, I only knew one thing.
The game had started.

3/11 (3061 words): It's cabin wars! Here, you can find all information on how they work: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/668817/?page=1#post-7047323

Have fun, and remember to sleep at a decent time!

We are accepting suggestions for new wars or extra challenges, so feel free to post any ideas on Starr’s profile, which you can find at @Stariqe!

Additionally, the Memory Book Cover Contest is out today. Hop on over to this project https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/816062348/ in order to enter and have the chance to have your cover(s) featured in the front/back cover of the Memory Book!

(Bold = extra challenge)

War 1 (1544 words):
(Removed)

War 2 (815 words):
(Removed)

War 3 (didn’t contribute - sleeping):
(War not completed </3)

War 4 (702 words):
(Extra challenge words: morph, tree, rose, friend, grate)

“Morph.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Morph. Into your friend,” the lady in front of me repeated.
I scoff, stand, and push my chair backwards, the sound of the legs scraping against the concrete gray floor cacophonous.

(Below is done for the weekly)
First, the song starts with just the instrumental track, a fast, potter-patter type of beat that reminds me of how fast life moves. The first few verses make me depict someone who’s insecure after comparing themselves with others, which is something I can relate to, and it helps make the song hit harder in a way. Then, when the chorus starts, the instrumentals have added another beat (a sort of night core style one), and the lyrics are very impactful. Especially when it says, “Unlucky me, aware of the pain all because I happen to have a brain”, makes me envision someone who’s been hurt and compares herself to others with jealousy because they are happy, living their best life, and have not gone through nor felt how it feels to be like the person who’s “speaking”. The way it’s portrayed and how the vocals are sung also makes me feel pity for the person in particular and connect and relate to it, even though I don’t feel like that too often and don’t really know how it feels, if you know what I mean. The next verses are much like the first few ones—comparing yourself to others, especially your body, your appearance, and generally just the way you look and how that makes you feel that you’re not perfect enough or pretty enough (at least what I think it means)—and the chorus repeats for a few times after that, which really strengthens and keeps the message of the song strong in your mind. It’s generally a short song, but all the feelings from the lyrics are there and are still (and possibly even more) moving. It really makes you start to question society and the way the world is structured and want to connect with others who feel like this and help them feel better about themselves.

(Below is fiction btw lol this didn’t actually happen to me)
I had the most amazing day (that was sarcasm if you couldn’t tell).
First, I tripped on an iron grate in the middle of an intersection on my way to school and slammed my face into the dirty concrete floor beneath me. And then I walked into school with bruises covering my now puffy face so that I looked like a purple hulk.
Which was actually the best thing that happened all day, but moving on-
And then, I ran into a tree during the mile (I could have sworn it was not there when I had been running a second ago, by the way!) and smashed my already bruised face, which hurt. A. Lot.
It actually hurt so much that after I ran into it, I just stood there, groaning, because I had basically just given up at that point.
If you thought that my day couldn’t get any worse, it did (besides going to the school office and the nurse giving me an ice pack and telling me I was fine)! Just you wait…
I was called into the office onto the loudspeaker—which was embarrassing enough, for everyone had snickered at me and betted on what I was in trouble for—but it turns out I was not in trouble (surprise!). Instead, it was much, much worse.
The principal sent me to his office to tell me, “Your best friend, Evan, has died today from a heart attack.”
Yeah, right! Like, what the heck?! What a great way to make a student’s day, Mr. Principal whose name I still do not know despite being in your school for more than five years now!
So the principal excused me to let me go to my friend’s parents’ house and cry with them for a few hours—which I totally did not do by the way, if you were wondering—as I handed them a rose, blew our noses, and talked about all the memories I had with Evan and what we had all liked and appreciated about him.
So, yeah. That was my day.
I will end this on a positive note: it was just amazing, right (oh, wait-)?

(Finished my side )

War 5 (393 words):
The cat sat on the mat and had a lot of fun. But he was a little stressed out because he was in an online writing camp, and there was a war that ended in about three hours and barely anyone (actually no one then, but hopefully soon), so he was going to try and write as much as he could to help out. But for that, he needed to type on his keyboard, not the mobile one he was currently using because his average words per minute on his keyboard was much higher than it was on his Ipad.So he switched to his keyboard (the actual one, not the one on mobile) and began typing away. But first, he stopped and realized that he should listen to music as he typed because that would make it more entertaining and exciting for him as he wrote. So he searched for a soundtrack and decided to listen to the soundtrack of the pretty recent Disney movie, Cruella, and he began to play it. Then he switched back to writing and continued to start typing away—faster than the speed of light, he thought to himself. He checked the main cabin (not the actual main cabin, but his cabin that was area and, to his disappointment, no one had yet replied to his comment chain where his fellow cabin members would include their word count. And he had no messages. He sighed and took a deep breath before continuing to type again (because he realized that he was procrastinating), but then when he checked his messages again, he realized that someone had finally replied!

(break)

The cabin member had added about two-hundred words, and around this same time, the cat checked how many words he had written (since the cabin member had said something about the extra challenge, which involved doing something every five hundred or less words you wrote), and he realized that he had written almost three hundred words! Then he took a break (since that was the extra challenge) and changed out of his pajamas before continuing to write. Then he decided to stop and brush his teeth (because he had just eaten lunch where he lived, and it was almost/not yet noon). Once the cat had finished, he took a deep breath and decided. to focus on writing—for real this time.

(break)

(Had to go offline - war lost </3)

3/10 (106 words): Welcome to the bookstore! Today, the Main Cabin will be filled up with books of our own creation! Write a 100 word blurb describing yours and comment it here to earn 100 points. Next, browse the rest of the collection—if you see any other books you'd be interested in buying, say so in a reply!

Additionally, cabin wars are tomorrow! More information will come on the day of - in the meantime, we are accepting suggestions for new wars or extra challenges, so feel free to post any ideas on Starr’s profile, which you can find at @Stariqe!

Julliette Cartier, a fifteen-year-old princess, has lived in fear for her entire life—fear of her father’s punishments, fear of not being perfect enough, fear of not being able to run the kingdom of Caelum, and fear of losing her loved ones in the current, ongoing war. It seems that her only future is to marry Pierre on the day of her sixteenth birthday—as her father wishes. But when she gets kidnapped by the Igneous Kingdom, her kingdoms’ rival since the beginning of time and their opposing foe in the war, everything changes. Read on to find more in this Romeo and Juliet remake—with a shocking twist!

3/8-3/9 (706 words (267 words of dialogue)): Welcome to day one of this session’s first bidaily, focused on dialogue! Bidailies are like dailies, but you have two days to finish them. Before beginning, check out this workshop on dialogue by Skye (@strange_skies) (https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/665944/?page=1#post-7015579)! Start by posting a line of dialogue in the comments. Then, choose two lines from others’ comments. Write 300 words of an interaction including these two lines and at least 250 words of dialogue, and gain an extra 100 points by sharing your story.

(I bolded the lines I used )

“Congrats on the engagement.”
I gave a slight frown. I couldn’t tell how she felt about that, and her expression and tone told me nothing. Nevertheless, I, turning away to proceed down the hallway, nodded and—seeing that lots of people had told me this already, being the prince and all, it was almost automatic as I—replied, “Thank you, Narcissa.”
“I also heard you say that she wasn’t right for you.”
I froze, keeping my back facing towards her to try to relax my current, panicked expression. “You have no right to know what I mean by that.”
“No.” I heard faint sounds of the layers of her dress rustling and the familiar sound of her footsteps clanging against the pristine, tile floor as she approached me. I could almost imagine her resting against a chair beside her—like she always did when she was entering a serious conversation—her expression almost apathetic. “I don’t. But one thing I do know is that we, as best friends, are supposed to tell each other everything. And I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but… everything includes this.”
I turned back around to face her, sighed, and pressed one hand against my forehead. “You’re not going to stop until I tell you, aren’t you?”
The ends of her mouth curled up slightly.
“I guess that’s a no, then…” I muttered underneath my breath. Then I stood up straighter and looked her in the eyes. “Look, Narcissa, I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not like that. I promise.”
She raised her eyebrows, looking unconvinced. She sighed when I said nothing and placed her hands back against her sides. “You’re still a terrible liar.”
I was about to open my mouth in objection, but she talked over me and stepped forward. “Harry, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
I babbled, “Yes, but-”
“Then why aren’t you telling me this? I’ve known you since we were children, for goodness sake!” she snapped.
I ran a hand through my hair and tried to open my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I, annoyed at both Narcissa and my attempts to speak, let out an aggravated exhale before finally barking, “Because this is different, okay?”
She humped and crossed her arms. “Different, how, exactly?”
I struggled to find the right words before scowling. “Why do you even care? It’s my life!”
It was now her time to struggle to find words as she stuttered, “Because- because-” she looked down before looking up at me again and biting her lip. “Because I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, okay?”
We stood in silence for more than a minute. My mouth was gaping, and my eyes were bulging out like a weirdo, but I didn’t care.
Narcissa wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“What?” I finally murmured, the word barely coming out as a whisper.
“Because I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you.” she finally looked up and glared at me. “Don’t make me repeat it again.”
I continued to ogle at her. “Well, uh, yes, I know that. But…”
“You’re wondering how it came to be?” she finished, monotone.
“Uh, yeah—that,” I stammered.
She snorted. “You’re such a dork sometimes. Anyways, it’s just that… you’ve always been there for me. And you’re funny, and kind, and carefree, and confident—as well as stupid,” she added, smirking slyly.
“Hey!” I said jokingly as I grinned.
She smiled, but it quickly faded. “So, maybe it’s selfish, but… I just can’t stand to see you with someone else. And now that I think you might not even want to be with Leslie….” she turned away and rubbed her arm. I could’ve sworn I saw a tear in her eyes as she mumbled, “It just… hurts. A lot. To the point where I can barely look at you without bursting into tears…”
Her voice grew shaky, and I stepped forward and put one arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Narcissa, I didn’t know…” My voice broke.
Narcissa didn’t say anything, and instead, she shook my hand off her shoulder and ran up the spiral stairs in front of us without looking back.
I watched as she disappeared from view, guilt swirling around in my stomach like a hurricane.

3/7 (249 words): Today, we're back to a classic SWC daily with three word stories! Just comment three words (such as “the legendary ibex”) to start off a story, then wait for replies with another three words (such as “loves eating popcorn”) to continue it! Feel free to contribute to whichever stories you'd like—the only rule is that you can't reply to yourself.

While this daily won't earn any points, a new way of boosting your cabin in the rankings comes out today—word wars! Check out this project to find more information: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/814643942

Word war for 3 minutes with @RLove10 (249 words):
The cat sat on the mat. He ate the rat that sat beside him and waited for his owner to come back home and give him food. But what he didn’t know was that his owner was never coming home because he had gotten into a car crash. So you can understand why the cat was very confused when his sister came over to his house to pick up the cat and send him to an animal shelter since he had no owner to live with anymore and was basically a cat orphan now. So the cat lived inside the shelter, waiting for his new, perfect opener to come along and pick him up—just like how his old owner used to. He also expected for his new owner to love him just as much—or even more than—his old owner had done. So he had high hopes. But because of these high hopes, the cat found no owner, and instead resided in the animal shelter for all eternity. So the cat eventually got sick of this and left one day at night. He went through the building and came out the back exit while the owner of the shelter was still sleeping, and he left to go live on the street. He had heard about the people in the shelter talking about movies in which animals had been adopted from the streets in old movies while he had been waiting for a new owner, so he had hoped for someone

3/6-3/7 in-cabin prompt (words): Take the nearest book that you’ve read out and read the first sentence aloud. Now change one word that would change the entire book. Build on that sentence!

Original line (from Fairest by Marissa Meyer <3):
She was lying on a burning pyre, hot coals beneath her back.

Changed line (bolded word = changed word):
She was lying on a burning floor, hot coals beneath her back.


Writing (551 words):
Leslie’s eyes fluttered open, and she had to squint to see the room around her.
Was that… smoke?
Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up amidst a sudden coughing fit. She covered her mouth with one arm as an attempt to suppress the coughs as parts of the wooden ceiling above her crumbled into ash, fell onto the floor, and set them ablaze with fire.
“Mom?” she said, testing her voice and coughing. “Dad?”
There was no response.
Had they left her?
As Leslie whipped her head around, scanning the vicinity for any sign of her parents and shouting their names between the occasional cough, she heard her breathing starting to become labored, so she pinned her nose against her shirt and held it up with her free hand.
She felt her eyes start to water, but she wasn’t sure if that was from the hopelessness she was feeling deep inside her stomach or from the smoke that was circling through the air.
As her heart felt as though it would burst through her chest, she realized two things: her parents were not here, and she had to leave. Fast.
She shut her eyes tightly and dropped to the floor, which was as covered with ash as herself. Leslie tried to ignore the guilt in the pit of her stomach as she crawled toward the blur of the doorframe—her exit.
As she crawled, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was wrong, and her parents were really still here and unable to speak?
She shut out the thoughts in her head, trying to focus on making it to the doorframe.
First, get out. Then, find your parents, she thought.
She held her breath as she approached the door.
Just… a little… more.
Suddenly, she noticed a chunk of the ceiling engulfed in flames tipping downwards in the corner of her eye, so she gave a petrified shriek and jumped backwards—barely missing it in time.
It fell just in front of her, lighting up the nearby area in flickering flames and blocking her exit.
Great. Just great.
She swirled her head around in a panic, wondering for a split second if she was stuck here and left to die, before finally stopping when she caught sight of another door—the only one that wasn’t blocked off. It was this, or nothing.
She breathed a sigh of relief—before coughing from the inhale of soot and smoke—and, determined, crawled towards the door faster than before.
Almost there, she repeated over and over again in her head, along with encouraging thoughts to keep her moving. Almost… ther—
A blackened part of the ceiling gave way and collapsed onto Leslie’s arm, and she screamed in pain, staring at her blistering hand and wrist in alarm.
Gritting her teeth, she desperately tried to ignore the increasing pain and calm her rapid breathing as she crawled (quicker now) towards the door.
A couple feet from her only escape, she felt her eyelids droop, and her vision darkened around her, turning the world into a bunch of dark blobs.
Wheezing, Leslie knew that she only had a few seconds before she would black out.
She hopelessly reached towards the door, her fingers grazing the floor beneath it, before slumping against the wood floor, her vision turning pitch black.

3/6 (661 words total): Today's daily focuses on blackout poetry! Take a short piece of writing of your choice (a page from your favorite book, a longer poem, a short story you wrote, a news article, or anything else you've got!), then select words in the order they're written to create a new blackout poem. Next, write a longer poem or story of at least 150 words based on your blackout poem for 200 points, as well as an additional 50 points for sharing! And if you'd like an extra challenge, try to incorporate all the words in your blackout poem in order.

Blackout poem (taken from my 3/3 daily!):
Fear thumping
Heart withering like a
flower
Why does this hurt so
much?
I stand behind her
She comes
She leaves
He is there
Golden
A heart in unison with her
I don’t want to let go
But she’s away
A knife on myself
Katniss
You know how to kill people
Can it really be?
She can
I just need a little more tim-
grab
pulling
back
exit
I stumble
stop
loosen their grip on me
reach
it’s no use
too strong
Katniss
crying
clutches
hold on
shout
yanked
I won’t!
I won’t!
Katniss
“…love…you.”
let go
passive
blank
in front of me
the last time

Inspired story/daily writing (394 words):
I stare at the windowpane outside my room.
I’ve been staring at it for at least. six hours now.
I just can’t help it. Sitting up in my bed is all the energy I have left for now.
I can tell my parents are worried about me. I’ve tried telling them that I’m fine, but they just don’t understand.
It’s not their fault, really. They’ve never been through a break-up before.
They’ve never known how it feels to have your heart shattered into a million pieces, unable to be reassembled.
I’ve tried to ignore my phone, but I can’t stop myself when she posts something.
A picture. It’s always a picture.
With him.
How can she move on so quickly? Doesn’t she still love me?
I do.
I sigh at the ding of my phone. Another post.
I drop my phone away from me on the other side of the bed and fall back onto the sheets.
I doubt I’ll ever get over this.
Unless…
I turn my head, still against the comfort of my bed, to view the blood-red ring resting on my desk.
I haven’t touched it since he came.
He said to only use it for emergencies.
And this is an emergency.
So why do I feel a sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach?
You’ll be fine, I think, trying to reassure myself. What could go wrong? And even if it did, how bad could it be?
Very bad, as I would soon find out.
I took a deep breath, reached for the ring, and wrapped my fingers around it.
Instantly, I felt a shock go down my spine.
I took a sharp inhale and accidentally dropped the ring, alarmed by the unexpected shock.
I widened my eyes and reached for it, sweeping my arm around the underneath of my bed—where I had seen the ring fall into.
After multiple minutes just waving my arm around, I decided that I didn’t feel anything.
It was almost like it had… disappeared.
I gasped and clapped one of my hands over my mouth.
It had disappeared!
“Oh, no…” I groaned.
He had warned me about this! And I still messed up!
I slapped my forehead repeatedly, saying, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
Because I knew what consequences would ensue.
And it would be brutal.
And I would forever live to regret it.

Another version (267 words):
Ding.
Another post.
Ding.
My shattered heart.
Ding.
I stare at the emptiness of my bedroom window, sitting up straight but not daring to move. Barely breathing. Like I’ve done for days.
Ding.
How could she?
Ding.
I‘ve been falling while she’s been loving.
Ding.
Loving him.
Ding.
I silence my phone, sick of the endless pain that would only come from it. I throw it across my bed before face-planting into the soft sheets—one of the little comforts that greeted me these days.
Over the course of the days that I’ve been stuck here, I have felt my heart crumbling, breaking off into tiny little pieces that would eventually shatter as well.
I was as delicate and fragile as glass—my heart even more so.
No wonder she had broken it so quickly.
I feel my lower lip quivering as I picture her. How her blonde hair had always fallen perfectly around her shoulders. The way her ocean-blue eyes had sparkled whenever I cracked a joke.
I take a shaky breath and curl my fist.
She brought joy to my heart.
Only to break it.
And watch as I suffered.
While she… while she…
I can feel the wetness of my eyelashes, tears gradually glazing over my eyes and threatening to spill like water behind a dam.
I can’t live like this anymore.
I’m sick of the crying. Of the controlled breathing. Of the scrolling through her Instagram posts. Of the waiting for her to reply to my texts.
I would do anything to get her back.
So I took a deep breath.
And put on the ring.

3/5 (394 words): Today, our daily focuses on an ex-cabin's genre from a few sessions ago—Mythology! Choose a creature, god, or other character from ancient mythology and write about them interacting with the modern world for at least 300 words—hopefully it won't make your hands too thor ;) This daily will earn your cabin 300 points, plus an additional 100 for sharing.

I chose to write about Calypso (from Greek mythology)

I had fallen asleep in Ogygia, but when I woke up, I found myself far from it.
I was falling.
I widened my eyes and rubbed them to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. I wasn’t.
I was traveling through a tunnel of light—a light so blinding I had to squint to see what I was looking at.
Curious, I looked down, but I instantly regretted my decision.
I was standing on air. If you can even call that standing.
Below me were tall structures that seemed to touch the sky, shining lights of brilliant colors.
I gasped—but from fear or appreciation, I didn’t know.
As the structures grew increasingly larger, I shut my eyes and braced for the landing, expecting to break my bones upon impact. But surprisingly, falling onto the cold, hard material beneath me felt surprisingly soft. Magic?
I looked around, aghast. There were those same, tall structures that I had seen when I had still been falling.
Where am I?
People shuffled past me, mumbling loudly and giving me rude glares. The lights that shone on the structures, which I had only seen as small blurs from above, were so bright that it almost put the tunnel I had been in to shame.
It was all, to put it simply, overwhelming.
I put my hands on my ears and squinted, trying to subdue the chaos surrounding me. When I had managed to escape the crowd, I sighed and sauntered towards the safety of the… uh, narrow passage in front of me.
When I had reached it, I glared up at the sky and shouted, “This better not be your doing, Zeus!”
It didn’t respond. Obviously.
I grunted and scanned the streets. When I had gathered my courage, I tapped one of the pedestrians on the shoulder. He turned around, clearly peeved by the expression on his face, and waited for me to say something.
I took a deep breath. “Uh, excuse me, can you tell me where I am?”
“Manhattan,” he put simply before turning away again, rolling his eyes, and walking away.
I humphed. What a warm welcome, I thought.
Manhattan…
That name sounded somehow… familiar.
I inhaled sharply, finally realizing why—this is where Percy lived!
Percy…
But as I analyzed the world around me closer, the thought that plagued me the most was, What am I doing here?

3/4 (419 words): It's been a few days since SWC started - hope you got the chance to get to know your cabin and give Starr lots of cookies ;D Imagine a character (either one of your own creation, or from a story you like) in your cabin. Would they get along with your cabinmates, or would a messy mango fight ensue? How might their personality react in that environment? Write at least 250 words for 100 points, and share your writing for an extra 50 points.

(Removed bc cringe )

WARNING: SLIGHT ROMANCE

3/3 (521 words (not including the (mostly) dialogue from the actual book)): We've all heard stories about, and from heroes. But what about the sidekicks, mateys on the sidelines, and tyrants like @Luna-Lovegood-LOL? Write 300 words from the perspective of a narrator who is not the protagonist - either an original story of your own, or a fanfiction. What kind of role do they have in the narrative, and what's their relationship to the protagonist? 300 words for 400 points.

Bold = doesn't count for words (copied from actual book)

fear thumping in my
veins
heart bursting from my
chest
hope withering like a
flower
why does this hurt so
much?

I stand several feet behind the closed door, two peacekeepers on either side of me. I have to keep pacing, tapping my foot against the cold, tile floor, just keep moving—anything but think of what awaits Katniss in the games.
I mutter to myself—just barely audible, random trains of thought—as I wait.
I still can’t believe this is happening. I mean, we both knew this could happen eventually, but I don’t think either of us knew—or expected—that it would happen.
I should have volunteered. So I could keep her safe.
But I doubt she would have liked that. She’s too strong-headed.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, and Madge comes out. She puts her hand on my shoulder sympathetically, and I look to one peacekeeper as she leaves. He nods his head, signaling that I’m allowed to enter.
I take a deep, shaky breath and open the door.
Katniss is there. A golden brooch with a mockingjay in its center is pinned to her right. Madge must have given it to her.
I open my arms, and Katniss doesn’t hesitate to run into them.
We stay there for a while, just holding each other. I close my eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the woods that always comes from her after our daily hunts, the slow, rhythmic beating of her heart in unison with mine, and the way the strands of her messy, chocolate-brown hair bristles when she’s nervous.
I don’t want to let go.
But finally, she’s the first to pull away.
“Listen,” I start, resting my hands on her shoulders, “getting a kn!fe should be pretty easy, but you’ve got to get your hands on a bow. That’s your best chance.”
“They don’t always have bows.”
She has a point.
“Then make one,” I insist. “Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all.”
“I don’t even know if there’ll be wood.”
Gosh, does she always have to be so negative?
“There’s almost always some wood,” I say reassuringly, trying to convince her and myself. “Since that year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that.”
“Yes, there’s usually some.” she admits.
I sigh. “Katniss, it’s just hunting. You’re the best hunter I know.”
“It’s not just hunting,” she retorts. “They’re armed. They think.”
“So do you. And you’ve had more practice. Real practice,” I counter. “You know how to kill.”
“Not people,” Katniss snaps back.
“How different can it really be?”
She scoffs, aghast. But before she can speak again, the peacekeepers barge through the door.
I turn to face them. “I just need a little more tim-”
They grab me and start pulling me back towards the exit. I stumble and try to stop them, loosen their grip on me, and reach for a foothold, but it’s no use; they’re too strong.
I can see the panic in Katniss’s eyes, and she rushes toward me, crying, “Don’t let them starve!” Desperate, she clutches my hand, and I try my best to hold on.
My voice grows into a shout as I’m yanked near the door, and the peacekeepers start to open it. “I won’t! You know I won’t!
“Katniss, remember I—”
The peacekeepers wrench our hands apart, and the door shuts close.
“…love… you.”
I barely notice the peacekeepers letting go of their hold on me and returning to their posts as I, passive, stand there, staring at the blank, wood door in front of me.
Would that be the last time I saw her?
Stop thinking like that, I think. If anyone could make it out of that arena, it’s her.
I just hope that that’s true.

* * *

pain erupting from my
core
heart broken like thin
glass
words I wish I had
said
how I wish I could go
back…

“I love you, Peeta.”
“I love you, too.”
I watched as Katniss k!ssed him on the massive, high quality screen before turning away abruptly, trying hard to diminish the hollowness in my heart.
She had never k!ssed me before…

(this is still a WIP lol-)

TW: VIOLENCE, BLOOD

3/2 (502 words): Happy National Soup It Forward Day! What are your favorite things to put in soup? Carrots, mango … pirate ibexes? Today, let's make a different kind of soup - one made of words! Comment five random words that come to mind. Then, claim someone else's five words and write a story using those words as themes. Stir (staurr /j) your writing/soup for about 300 words, and now you have a meal. 200 points will be awarded upon completion, an extra 50 points for sharing your writing, and a daisy from Starr for saying what kind of soup you think SWC would be <3

Chosen Words (@Sandy-Dunes):
apathy, blight, demon, dare, flutter

Daily (502 words):
My white, angel-shaped wings fluttered behind me as I paced around my desolate prison cell, alternating between flying and walking. It was actually kind of ironic having angel wings—being a dem0n and all. It was almost enough to make me laugh. Almost.
I froze when I heard the sound of footsteps catching me off guard. I slowly crept towards the door of my cell. Had someone finally come for me?
“About time,” I muttered, barely audible underneath my breath. “I was getting quite… lonely.”
As the imperceptible figure—cloaked in the darkness of the endless corridor—approached, the dim light from the nearby window shone down on it. It had a masculine frame, and as it stepped closer, the closely-shaved beard confirmed my estimate. His fair, curled hair was the same color as the sunlight, and he was draped in the stereotypical guard uniform—a dark blue suit, golden badges pinned on the right, and a breast pocket where he pulled out a chain of keys and carefully picked one. Turning it in the lock, he was so tall he had to bend down to enter my cell. I watched as he closed the door behind him.
“So you’re the one who dares greet me,” I said mockingly, a feigned look of surprise imprinted on my face.
He snorted and put his hands on his hips. He looked… astute. Boy, that would soon change.
“I don’t care for your apathy.”
My eyes gleamed as I studied the gxn hanging in one of the loops of his belt. “At least it makes it easier to k!ll you.”
His eyes widened, realizing too late what I was about to do. He reached for his gxn, but I lunged forward, grabbing the back of his suit before he could grab it and tugging him back towards me.
He fumbled for the walkie-talkie stuck in the back pocket of his uniform as I dragged him, but I slxpped it out of his hands. We watched as it slid across the dark, soiled, stone floor before I grabbed his gxn and pushed it against his forehead.
I could see his hands shaking, his eyes full of fear. Oh, how I had missed this.
I gave that same, maniacal grin. “Not so confident now, are you?”
His bottom lip quivered. “…Y-you’re a maniac!”
“Perhaps.” I titled my head as if I had seriously not considered that before. “…But I don’t care.”
I pulled the trigger.
Smirking, I watched as he crumpled to the floor, the bl00d from the bxllet w0und spilling out onto the floor like a sea of maroon.
Passive, I stepped over him, grabbing the keys and jingling them on my free hand (as the other was still clutching the gun) on the way, and pushed open the door. Already, alarms were blaring, and the red from their lights flickered across the prison.
At the sight of a guard, I smiled.
The other guard had only been the first victim of my blight.
And I was hungry for more.

3/1 (532 words): Bonjour, my fellow writers! Welcome to another era of Starr Wants Cookies - er, Scratch Writing Camp ;) It's introduction day, and in the spirit of creative endeavors, we challenge you to introduce yourself as a book! What genre would you be, what would your cover look like, and what texture would your pages have? Would you be a paperback, or hardcover? Do tell.

In-cabin (242 words):
Hi, I’m Jade! I use she/her pronouns, and I have a lot of fandoms (although I forget most of them half the time haha). I My current ones (at least the ones I remember haha) are Marvel, maybe a Series of Unfortunate Events (I finished this TV show on netflix a while ago—it was so good!), and Percy Jackson question mark haha. I’m also very chaotic, sarcastic, dumb and smart (if you know, you know-), silly, determined, shy, anti-social, introverted, ambitious (?), stubborn, funny, unconfident, a procrastinator, weird (according to my sister haha-), a nerd, proudly get straight-A’s at school, and have a 4.0 GPA. I also have no clue what my future career will be, don’t have a “passion”, play piano, and am going into high school around august this year (wish me luck! I’ll need it-). I also like to panic, stress myself out, be unorganized, and get sidetracked (especially when I’m doing homework haha-). Anyways, that’s it haha! Fan-Fi for the win! And I’ll try to do the daily in a thousand words sometime soon (if I have the time). Also just realized that I forgot something “main” in my personality (if you know what I mean), which is my love of boba, ramen, and France (the country and the language! I'm also hoping to learn French in high school!). But yeah, that’s it (finally) haha (sorry for being so long - this was four comments in my cabin-).

Actual daily (290 words):
As you scan the bookshelves lying in front of you, you notice a dull, green book—nearly inconspicuous compared to all of the flashy, loud books surrounding it. Curious, you pull it out and identify it as a 501-page, bizarro fiction novel with the name ‘Jade’ inscripted onto the front in almost illegible, black letters. Its sensitive, thin, paperback cover is bent and nearly sticks up straight from years of use. The cover has been stained from what looks like water—perhaps spilled on by accident. You flip the book open. It erupts into a cloud of dust, making you start to cough. It’s clear that no one has opened this book in ages. When the dust has passed, you discern how the water goes straight through the first few pages. The pages are filled with tiny, messy, black encryptions (notes from the first owner?) crossing out and rewriting words imprinted on the page in dark green ink. Perhaps the owner might have been a perfectionist… and indecisive. A few pages have been torn out, and it has a rough texture. Additionally, according to the back blurb, the plot features ups and downs and is filled with comedy, kindness, anger, and a dark tone for its narration. As you read, you also observe how the tone mainly stays inconsistent—constantly switching from happiness, lightheartedness, and humor to rage, stress, and self-doubt. As you near the end, you see layers of jagged lines; the last few pages have been removed. You groan in frustration. You hadn’t truly understood the meaning of the book yet, and you had hoped it would come in those very pages. Well, you think as you set the book back on its shelf, I guess the story isn’t finished yet.

«────── « ⋅ Introduction ⋅ » ─────»
❝You walk into the library of recipes in the spell shop and breathe in the scent of all the scrolls and books that were scattered around the place. It's wonderful. You run your hand along the spines of all the book, wondering which one you'd want to look through. After a while, you take a lether book in your hands and look over the beautiful purple and blue cover before. On the cover, there was beautiful handwriting that read “Piper's Spell Journal” and curious, you decide to take a look. Surrounded by the library's comforting silence, you open it and begin looking into its contents…❞

«────── « ⋅ Info ⋅ » ─────»
➳ Piper
➳ She/Her
➳ Folklore (co)leader
➳ 12,497 / 25,000 words

«────── « ⋅ Dailies ⋅ » ─────»
☛ № 01: Introductions | 1,130 | 0 |
☛ № 02: Word Soup | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 03: Antagonist's POV | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 04: Title | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 05: Title | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 06: Title | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 07: Title | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 08-09: Dialogue | 707 | 500 |
☛ № 10: Novel Blurbs | 138 | 100 |
☛ № 11: Journaling | 267 | 200 |
☛ № 12: Title | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 13: Irony | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 14: Folklore | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 15: SWC Fanfic | 128 | Unfinished/Not Completed on Time |
☛ № 16: National Panda Day | 0 | Note Completed |
☛ № 17: Language of Flowers | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 18: OC Aesthetic | 0 | Not Completed |
☛ № 19: Abstract Concepts | 0 | Note Completed |
☛ № 20: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 21: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 22: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 23: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 24: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 25: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 26: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 27: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 28: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 29: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 30: Title | Words | Points |
☛ № 31: Title | Words | Points |
✏———————————————

«────── « ⋅ Weeklies ⋅ » ─────»
➳ Weekly One: Timelines | 3,857 | 2,500 |
➳ Weekly Two: Mental Health & Inspiration | 1037 Words | 1500 |
➳ Weekly Three: Title | Words | Points |
➳ Weekly Four: Title | Words | Points |

✏———————————————

«────── « ⋅ Writing Comp ⋅ » ─────»
✒ Original Entry: Title | Words |
✒ Fanfic Entry: Title | Words |

✏———————————————

«────── « ⋅ Word Wars ⋅ » ─────»
⇛ @selkie- | 364 | Won/Lost |

✏———————————————

«────── « ⋅ Other ⋅ » ─────»
⋙ Literature Homework | Discussion Questions for Treasure Island | 670 Words |
⋙ Literature Homework | Discussion Questions for Treasure Island | 828 Words |
⋙ Literature Homework | Personal Writing Narrative | 297 Words |
⋙ History Homework | Prompted Writing about The Scientific Revolution | 264 Words |
⋙ Folklore Ingredients | Writing Challenges | 212 Words
⋙ Rant | Ranting About Life | 256 Words
⋙ History Homework | Prompted Writing about The Enlightenment Era | 1472 Words |
⋙ Critique For @Sandy-Dunes | Folklore Critique Exchange | 246 Words
✏———————————————

«────── « ⋅ Credits ⋅ » ─────»
⇛ Table on Contents originally made by Dawn with a couple edits from me

Waterfall's SWC March '23 Megathread Post :>

(1k more like 2k word) Introduction:

╰►:{ March 1st || 1933 words || link }:

Dailies:

╰► :{ March 1st || 151 words || link || 0 Points }:
╰►:{ March 2nd || 2175 words || link || 250 Points }:
╰►:{ March 3rd || 481 words || link || 400 Points }:
╰►:{ March 4th || 437 words || link || 150 Points }:
╰►:{ March 5th || 365 words || link || 400 Points }:
╰►:{ March 6th || 309 words (total) || link || 250 Points }:
╰►:{ March 7th || 39 (there's more but i'm not counting lol) || link N/A (three word stories) || 0 Points }:
╰►:{ March 8 & 9th || 514 words || link || 500 Points }:
╰►:{ March 10th ||140 words || link || 100 Points }:
╰►:{ Bidaily March 28-29 || Word Count idk in the link >>|| link || 500 Points? }:

Weeklies:

╰►:{ March 5-? || unfinished TwT 2012 words || link || - - Points }:
╰►:{ final weekly || 4178 words || link || 3k points }:

Word Wars:

╰►:{ March 6th || 5 mins || 312 Words || link || Won || 250 Points}:
╰►:{ March 6th || 5 mins || 410 words || link || Won || 0 Points (already won today) }:
╰►:{ March 7th || 6 mins || 372 words || link || Won/Lost || 25 Points (prompt, but already won in this utc day) }:
╰►:{ Date || Time || Word Count || link || Won/Lost || Points }:

CABIN WARS LETS GOOO:

note that not all cabin wars stuff is here, just the stuff I did on scratch
╰►:{ March 10 || I forget|| link }:
╰►:{ March 11 || 1374 words || link }:
╰►:{ Date || Word Count || link }:

Daily SWC Haikus: :0

╰►:{ March 1st || 10 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 2nd || 13 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 3rd || 10 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 4th || 12 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 5th || 11 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 6th || 13 words || link }:
╰►:{ March 7th || 15 words || link }:
╰►:{ Date || Word Count || link }:
╰►:{ Date || Word Count || link }:
╰►:{ Date || Word Count || link }:

Writing Comp Entry:

╰►:{ Title || Word Count || link }: