daily 2

305 words


This is from the perspective of Prince Nicolosi (a character from an amazing webtoon yall should read called high class homos) who I think is a really interesting a well-developed villain character (much as I hate him and his spinach head)

I’m not the villain.
Of course, it’s not like I haven’t considered it. Everyone has their - their moments, shall we say. When their lack of self-esteem makes them begin to think things that are just simply not true.
Is everything my fault? Am I the one to blame? I am guilty, I am in the wrong, I am responsible for this tragic situation I have found myself in-
But I have gotten over trying to believe such blatant falsities, and begun to discover the truth.
It was her all along. It was Saphhia - and I was too blinded by my love for her to notice how I was manipulated, how I was only a pawn in her narcissistic game. She tries to play the victim (very well, it seems, as proven by just how many believe her stories) and now I am more alone than ever.
But I do not let my own inconsequential feelings hold me back. She must be stopped. She must be stopped, before everyone in this castle (even, possibly, everyone in this kingdom) falls for her corrupt schemes. I fear the noble Prince August is already falling into her trap.
And I am the only one who can vanquish her villainous ways. I will be a hero. But now? Now I am alone, so alone, and I am lonely.
But they will see. They will all see. They’ll realise they’ve all been played by Sapphia, that liar, that tyrant, that con artist. They’ve all fallen for her lies, her fabrications, her plots and manipulations to drag herself up to the throne of this once-righteous kingdom. She will fall from her pedestal - because of me, I will be the hero - and all shall know what she really is, on the inside, underneath her mask of deception.
She is the villain. Not me.

Daily 3!
318 words

I watched as explosions shook the ground, every building in the city crumbling like a sand castle. Pieces of the cave's ceiling fell down like rain, letting light shine down on the city as if angels came to bless it. The bodies of my comrades lay everywhere, their faces a painting of fear and rage. A man stood on a piece of rubble, light from above shining on him like a spotlight. He was covered in the blood of demons. The blood of my family.

Even though the man we worked for was evil, it didn't mean we were soulless monsters. Before he arrived, we were considered useless. We were horrible animals. But he gave us a reason to live. He gave us a family. He made this underground city for us. And now it was gone.

“Ah, another demon. I shall slay you, foul beast!” I turn my head to see the hero behind me, his sword and armor glinting. I didn't care anymore. He had already killed my boss and everyone else that I worked with. He had already destroyed everything that I cared for. He would just keep destroying. I watched as he leaped towards me, sword swinging towards my neck. I didn't resist, letting my head drop to the ground, the rest of my body teetering before it fell down next to my head. I couldn't move my body anymore. That sucked, I guess. I blinked a few times, watching as the hero triumphantly left the wreckage of my home.

I sighed, or at least tried to with what was left of my body. I was supposed to be one of the “bad guys” because I was born a demon. This was inevitable, wasn't it? But there's no way everyone's dead. There's no way everything we worked for is now gone. That hero wouldn't be that cruel…

He wouldn't be that cruel, would he?

March 3, 2023

I walked briskly to the dining area of the hall. It had already been twenty minutes and I still had no clue where Hualin was. I was starting to get a little worried.

Normally I couldn’t care less where Hualin was or what he was doing, but Hualin had accidentally taken my biology homework and I really desperately wanted to finish it. I only had one question left.

I tapped my foot on the floor repeatedly, starting to get annoyed. Was Hualin so dumb that he got lost in a mall? It was a big mall. I could honestly see him forgetting his way. In the end, I decided that I was accomplishing nothing by standing around. There was not a very high chance that I would just happen to cross paths with Hualin if I stood around. I had to track him down. It was going to get dark soon, and dad always got cranky of we weren’t around by dinner.

I first headed for the bookstore because I knew Hualin liked to hang out there. While Hualin liked reading, he mostly engrossed himself in high fantasy novels with crazy superheroes and intense action scenes. And yet, he still had a love for geography, probably the worst subject to exist in the history of subjects.

Hualin confused me greatly. Despite being his sister, I couldn’t really grasp why he was the way he was. Still, I never really thought about actually sitting and thinking about it.

Just as I began walking towards the bookstore, I heard a large crash. I spinned around quickly, identifying that the sound had come from behind me. I saw a few knocked over chairs near a small coffee cafe. Then I heard some shouts, and the sound of something being thrown. I furrowed my eyebrows, puzzled at what could have possibly caused such a ruckus.

What happened next confused me even more.

Hualin ran out of the coffee shop and sprinted down the long hallways of the mall. Everyone was too stunned to do anything about it. The owner of the coffee shop emerged from the entrance, calling for security.

What could have possibly happened?

361 words

Daily 3/3

Spoilers for book 5 of the Lockwood and Co. series ahead!

I stood in dark London, atop a structure that in the other world would have been the ruins of Fittes House.

The street below was mostly empty. A few of the dead were passing by, presumably headed somewhere else. The air was silent, heavy with that sense of lifelessness that this place always stank of. I never had never liked that much; I generally tried to divert most of my consciousness into the living world, if I could help it.

After the battle at Fittes House, the quiet and cold came as a sudden shock. Only moments before I’d been surrounded by screams, and explosions, and life: Lucy and Lockwood, hysterical and helpless as always - they’d better be grateful, after all I’d done to keep them alive - and Marissa Fittes, that old bat, threatening to destroy the entire building she had centered her legacy around.

She had destroyed it, I suddenly recalled.

Alarmed, I reached out for my Source. To my relief, the link between us was still there; faint, a bit worse for wear, but not irrecoverable. When it was safer, I could crawl back into the land of the living. Until then, I was stuck in this place. The Other Side, as Lucy liked to call it.

Lucy. That idiot. What had she been thinking, running off to face down Marissa Fittes with no reinforcements other than lan imprisoned ghost in a jar? Of course, I had turned out to be a bit more useful than that. But still, she couldn’t possibly have known that when she charged off on her own. A move like that either took an insane amount of bravery, or an insane amount of stupidity. That was good old Luce for you, I supposed.

I tried not to think too much about the other part of the battle: how she had set me free, without even having to be put in mortal danger, and how I had saved her life. And Lockwood’s. Multiple times. It hadn’t been an easy feat, either, in spite of anything I pretended. Ezekiel was a powerful ghost, and it had taken a good deal of effort to overcome his psychic forces. More than I would care to admit. It had been an interesting experiment, a way to stretch my old muscles and test my abilities. That’s all. Helping out Luce and her boyfriend had just been an unfortunate side effect. Any other explanation would be stupid; it wasn’t like I cared about her, or anything.

Suddenly eager for a distraction from my own thoughts, I glanced out the window. The number of dead down below seem to have grown slightly. Curious, I hopped over the ledge and down to the quiet street. I should probably wait a few hours to fully reconnect with my Source. In the meantime, I was finally free to move. I ought to take advantage of this rare opportunity, before Lucy could get ahold of my skull and stuff it back in the jar. Knowing her, she probably would.

The crowds of dead in the streets seemed to be flowing in a certain direction. I followed them, curious as to where they were headed. We turned several corners, moved up an alleyway, and finally emerged in a tightly packed square. A narrow door of what could only be described as light stood in the center of this place. Figures thronged longingly around it, blocked by a gate of some sort that had been constructed about the perimeter. Whenever someone tried to push past the gate, their form convulsed with pain and they were forced back. At first I was disgusted. What sort of idiot shoved themself repeatedly at a protective barrier, only to be pushed away and shocked with pain? The dead really were stupid, the whole lot of them.

Then I took a better look at the door, and immediately understood. It shone in midair, a tall rectangle of light. It promised warmth, life, fulfillment of a kind that I had been craving ever since I died. I felt it pulling me closer, daring me to step through. I wanted to step through.

Stop it! I dragged my gaze away from the door. I couldn’t do this. I had an existence - a pitiful existence, but an existence nonetheless - back in the world of the living. I had new insults to gift Lucy’s ears, a bunch of undelivered jokes that would probably make her scream and cover me with a tea towel. I didn’t need what was beyond that door. And I couldn’t get to it anyway; the way through was blocked by-

There. In the links that made up the gate, there was a small gap. A place where the iron had broken, just wide enough for a thin, small, teenager-sized spirit to slip through. It had gone unnoticed by most of the other desperate dead. I could slide past, strut beyond the gate in a matter of seconds.

I could. But surely I wouldn’t.

Something itched at the corner of my mind. Something Lucy had said to me… You have to let go, at some point. You probably could, if you wanted to.

How had I responded? I might, when I find the right reason. It had been a flippant answer, an attempt to satisfy her nagging. I wasn’t ever going to leave - life, or what little I got to have of it, was too much fun. And maybe I was scared of what came next.

But the door. The door wasn’t so terrible. On the contrary, I thought I might like to step through.

I remembered Lucy, how she had set me free. How I had stopped Ezekiel and Marissa from killing her. She would probably miss me, if I left. But I thought that she would understand, too. She would want me to let go.

You can’t hold on forever.

I looked up at the door one more time. Then I ducked under the gate and ran forward. The glowing rectangle throbbed in midair, calling me forward.

Take care of my skull, Lucy. And good luck. You’ll need it without me.

I stepped into the light, and whatever lay beyond.

Word count: 1,034

Daily 3
Character used: Stina from KotLC
427 words

Stina whipped around and stared at the new kid, Sophie Foster, whose name had just been called in the morning announcements. What a weird name. This Sophie girl was wearing a fresh, spotless Level Two uniform, and her long blond hair was lazily brushed and unstyled. At least it was better than Stina's short frizz, courtesy of Dex Dizznee. Sophie's eyes, though, were what really caught her attention. They were brown, and an ugly shade, too. Stina wondered what elixir Sophie had taken to get that effect, and why she had changed her eye color on her first day of school. Still, Stina couldn't shake the feeling that Sophie looked familiar from somewhere…
The crowd dispersed, and Stina lost sight of the new girl as she started walking to her locker with her friends. Stina's locker was across from Dex's, and she smirked imagining what was about to happen. Sure enough, as soon as Dex licked the DNA strip to open his locker, the loud croak and foul stench of a muskog came from the inside. Stina had found it in the unicorn pastures and placed it into Dex's unlocked locker the next afternoon. The entire room now smelled horrible, but the look on Dex's face was worth it. He deserved it after slipping balding serum into her lushberry juice. Stina snickered and high-fived her friends.
Just then, she saw someone, standing next to Dex with an equally horrified expression. It was Sophie. Seeing her with Dex reminded Stina where she'd seen her before: in Slurps and Burps, laughing at her. She instantly hated this new girl.
Dex walked up to Stina, and they argued, which was usual after a prank battle. Lady Alexine put them both in lunch detention for a week.
After lunch, even though she had been in detention, Stina knew all the tea about Sophie. Brown was her natural eye color, and more, she had been raised by humans. No wonder Sophie was friends with someone as horrible as Dex. Humans could only do two things: fight each other and ruin the environment.
She guessed that this was only the start of the rumors about the new kid. Stina was used to rumors– there were still some about herself, her Talentless father, the fact that she hadn't manifested. She would do anything to prevent people from whispering her name and shooting her sideways glances in the hallways. Maybe, she thought, this new human girl could be the distraction she needed. All Stina had to do was make sure everyone's attention stayed on Sophie.

I stepped from the crisp night air into the dim, warm interior of the inn. Rachel followed me, and as we glanced around I gripped the leatherbound volume I held close against my chest. It was a small comfort, but it was a comfort nonetheless. Something sturdy, something true. An anchor as I walked into the unfamiliar room. It was rowdy, chaotic. Waves of noise buffeted me, and I found it difficult to focus on any one sound. Everyone was talking over each other, though they didn’t seem to notice. It was almost . . . calming, in the way a habitual task becomes. The people here knew their place; it was to laugh together, to add to the boisterous atmosphere of the inn.
With a sigh, I walked across the floor, the old, ale-stained planks moving slightly under my weight. I inhaled the scents of sweat, alcohol, and meat—was that lamb? It smelled sweet. The scents were chaotic, too, in their own way. But they belonged, just as the sounds belonged.
“Come on,” Rachel said, touching my arm and nodding to a table near the back.
I followed her, sitting down on one of the rickety, slightly sticky chairs. Regretfully, I set my book down on the dirty table, though I brushed off any crumbs before doing so.
“Rachel,” I started in a whisper, the noise swallowed up by the laughter of a man sitting at the table before us.
She drummed her fingers on the table, eyes focused on me.
“I don’t know about this. My father . . . he might not like me joining up. Or he might . . . .” Like it too much. Expect too much. “I don’t know,” I finished altogether unimpressively.
Rachel blinked and looked down. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Go home if you want, but I need to do this. Your father will know what to do.”
I was worried she’d say that. I wasn’t about to leave her, and she knew that. Besides, how could we expect that my father knew what to do, when we hadn’t a clue?
“Will he?”
Rachel didn’t reply, but she met my eyes again, her jaw set. She crossed her arms over the table. I sighed. Neither of us was going to abandon the other. I wished that we didn’t have to do something so dangerous, but at least we would be doing it together. This was a baby step, the first dipping of my toes into the river of what I hoped my life would be about. I needed to start somewhere. Even if it was oh so hard to make the first move. Right now, though, it seemed my only option.
Rachel, her gaze now focused over my shoulder, frowned, though I hadn’t said anything.
“Let’s talk later,” she murmured.

+461 words

Daily
3/3
400 points
356 words

Using Artemis from Lore Olympus
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“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.”
————————————————–
I watch as Persephone runs to her lover. I can see why she loves Hades, although she's no longer going to be able to join The Goddesses of Eternal Maidenhood. I would snort or laugh or something if this wasn't a very serious, heart breaking moment. My eyes start to fill up with tears as I watch my roommate kiss Hades, putting all of her love for him into one final kiss. Who knew how long it would be until the two saw each other again? She was lifted into the air and she shined bright, as if about to explode- and then she was gone. I tried my best not to whimper or cry, but that was my friend who just got punished to the mortal realm by my father, Zeus. I wouldn't be able to see her until… until… well, until my father finally released her punishment. And who knew how long that would be? He tended to be rather mean and rude when it came to Persephone. Maybe he just didn't want Hades to be happy. I cower against a wall as the room breaks into chaos. I can't hold my tears back any longer and they escape my eyes, running down my face like rivers. I can't take this anymore. I crumple to the ground and whisk myself back to my house- the one I no longer share with my roommate. I crumple up in a ball and just sob. There's no stopping it since the floodgates have now been opened. I shake and shiver, sob and whimper, as I let all my emotions pour out. The pain doesn't stop. I don't think it ever will. I stay there for a long time. I can't do anything but that. I ignore the knocks at my door. I ignore the letters and scrolls I receive from Hestia and Athena, calling meetings for TGOEM, trying to figure out what to do now that Persephone has been banished, and has also broken the requirements for joining. I ignore texts and calls from Eros and my brother. I just can't go on. I can't go on.

SWC Daily Haiku #2 - March 2nd :>

13 words

Cabin wars - what fun!
Beloved by all at camp,
Quickly - write and war!

March 3rd Daily: The Perspective of Someone Else || 1159 words (Idk why I wrote that many, I got really cared away because I have so much lore behind this character…)

(For context, this character is from a novel I scrapped, but I still adore the characters and plot so I use it a lot for short narratives. The main character in the novel is Lily Kittenpuff, and this is focusing on her cousin, originally the antagonist of the novel, Eva Kittenpuff)

Weird, funny looks. Everywhere I look, all I get are strange looks. I understand what I had done, but it wasn't my fault, and I knew it was wrong. So wrong, in fact, that I made up for it by joining my cousin in fighting the evil that surrounded this school. Yet I'm still remembered as the evil introvert whom no one should talk to if they want to survive.

It isn't my fault I was born in a family that had a dark secret. It's not my fault that I was the one out of the whole family that had to carry the secret on. My cousin is lucky in comparison to me.
It all started when I was little, an infant. My parents very quickly noticed I had anger issues, but anger issues that were abnormal. I didn't cry when I was mad, I don't think I've ever cried in my life, instead, I used violence and grunts to express my anger. But, it got worse from there.
It was when I was 5. Every time I think about this, I feel nothing but regret, scaring the poor toddler known as Lily, my own cousin, for a whole 9 years. I knew she remembered what I had done when I met her again a year ago. I got mad at her for touching my Rubik's Cube. Only touching it. I freaked out, and may have become a cat that feeds off of rage, pounced on her, and basically scarred her for life. When I think about it, I was all on my own just minutes later and that was probably for the best, or else I would have felt nothing but guilt for my entire life.

So, I wandered alone for years, until I was about 8 years old…
I had found my way into a forest, it's where I had lived in for a few months, wandering around, hopefully finding somewhere to stay. That was when I found a cozy looking cave that, at the time, I didn't know would cause more trouble.
I learned a dark secret, how my family was connected to a creepy monster who wanted nothing but domination of the forest. Occasionally, in this forest, I would find little monsters trying to attack me, but as soon as I'd go into my angry cat form and hiss, they'd all cower. They may have cowered back in this cave. Anyways, this monster was constantly trying to be hunted down, one time close to defeat, by a guy named Jeremy Kittenpuff. My great great great great great great grandfather, or something like that. He was the first one of us, born a shapeshifter, having the ability to become a cat on command. With his strength, he believed he could destroy this beast, which he half did, but according to his pals, when he was almost done, he just “disappeared”. That's when I started thinking, and I think I had an answer:
Jeremy was made the other half of the monster, to make sure it continued to survive. His power was used for evil, and he could no longer control when he became a cat. When he passed, another one of him would be born, to learn they were simply a follower of this monster, rage being the way the monster takes over. That's me, I guess… part of this never-ending loop, right?

No.

I had hid this secret for years, taking part in a school where you learn how to control powers in hopes that I may be able to stop this curse. Nothing worked. Instead, I terrified hundreds of people by going out of control. Everyone knew me as the angry cat girl. That just made me more angry…
But then, I met Lily again. At first, I was honestly scared to be around her, afraid that what happened 9 years ago would repeat, and possibly be worse. Everything was fine, but it could've gone better. She seemed to be fine with me, but her friend was different, extremely worried around me, and I don't blame her. I was that terrifying, you-make-one-wrong-move-and-you're-done-for kid.
Then, I learned that Lily went to the same school as I did. It made sense, as I thought I had recognized her shy friend. She had recently transferred here after learning about her own shape-shifting abilities. She was part of the second shape-shifting category in our family: The Accidentals. How lucky they were. They still had the genes of the child Jeremy Kittenpuff had, just like him before he disappeared. So, when someone in out family is like that, we consider it accidental. They have the ability to control their ability, and they don't work for a greedy monster.

Not long later, I found Lily at the door of my cave with a few new friends. They attempted to defeat the monster, defeat me. I tried to stop them, but it wasn't enough. Luckily, because Lily couldn't bear the idea of losing her cousin, she made sure to spare me, sort of destroying the monster (and luckily not ending up like Jeremy), and even offered me to join them. I accepted, and became part of their little friend group. I learned to control my anger better, now that there was no monster I had to work for, but, I was still under the curse. Maybe I'd be the last one? I have no idea.

Unfortunately, people base everything off of first impressions, so whenever I'm walking along, everyone still looks at me with strange, sometimes even terrified expressions. Some had learned, few had learned, that what had happened was now the past. I didn't mind though, I still had my new friends. I also have a passion to take up my time: research about demons, and how possessing a being really works. As someone who's possessed by rage that was previously possessed by a monster, which transforms me into a raging cat that's not too far off from being considered a demon, I've always been interested in those two things, to see how they work, and how to control it. It wouldn't just help me, it could help others. As selfish and quiet as I seem, I try to give back in quiet, almost unnoticeable ways, and sometimes, it helps!

One other thing that us kept me sane is a person who was accidentally transported to our world… just a simple kid with a unique life with a relatable struggle.
Mango. Their name is Mango. My precious Mango who is the one reason I'm no longer who I didn't want to be in the past.

Maybe, if someone decided to pay attention to the times I opened up, like Mango, they would notice I'm no longer the terrifying creature that haunted me for a full 9 years.
I'm not a monster, I never was. I'm just a person who's a bit different, and Mango understands.

Those who care understand.

Daily #3 (3/3/2023)
400 points
374 words

North was sitting quietly; his legs were half tucked in underneath him. His purple eyes glanced up and down over the scroll he was reading. It was one of the scrolls he had stolen—borrowed from his one of his sisters.
It wasn’t a super interesting one, just a somewhat boring history of the Icewings. He then tapped it gently, noting for later where he was. He rolled it back up and sat it on the scroll-rack next to his door, which was where he put all his borrowed scrolls. Almost every other surface was covered in scrolls.
He would clean it up, but he didn’t have enough scroll-racks for all his scrolls. A small smile spread across his face, he could just imagine what either of his sisters would say about it.
“You really gotta clean this up, I mean, like really, it’s a mess!” Was something along the lines of what Aurora, his younger sister would say.
“You… have a lot of scrolls, North. Are all of these really yours?” Is what his youngest sister, Foxfire would say.
He loved both of his sisters; he really did. But Aura would argue with him a bit, Fir mostly just kept to herself. He paused and glanced at the door before pressing an ear to it. He never really knew why or how but, if he focused hard enough, he could hear what his sisters and/or parents were doing, if they were in the house.
North closed his eyes slowly, focusing his thoughts on his youngest sister, Foxfire, she was quiet. And he never really used it on his sisters. He had always been curious if she talked more. He heard a loud thump before hearing his mom’s voice echoing.
He hesitated, unsure if he should pull away. He could hear shaky breathing and a whisper. But he could only hear a few words from them. “I enchant…” He didn’t hear the rest as he pulled away, he didn’t really know what to think.
She was probably reading a scroll out loud, or she was an animus, which was impossible. After all, Icewings lost their magic long ago. A hollow chuckle escaped his mouth. His sister had no idea what she was talking about.

March 3rd Daily

Word Count: 699

When Lola awoke that day, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She got up, pulled back her curtains and took in the view. Her bedroom was on the eastern side of the house and she always enjoyed watching the sunrise as she got ready for the day.
  She slipped on a purple dress, ran a brush through her long black hair, and, after taking a final look in the mirror, headed downstairs to breakfast.
  Once everyone was seated and had begun eating, it still seemed like a pretty normal day. It was a while before anyone noticed the empty chair…
  “Hey, where's the halfling?” Her cousin, Clyde, asked suddenly. Lola looked up. She hadn't even noticed their other cousin wasn't there. Based on everyone's expressions, no one else had noticed either. She assumed Clyde only noticed because he'd grown bored and picking on Logan was his usual go-to for entertainment.
  Lola's mother sighed. “He's probably overslept again. Honestly… Well, if he misses breakfast it's his own fault.”
  The rest of the adults murmured their agreement, which led to the usual topic of complaining about what a disappointment Logan was.
  Sure enough, he never showed up for breakfast.
  Or lunch.
  Or dinner.
  Lola went about her life normally. She wasn't worried; she really didn't care if her halfling cousin showed up to meals or not. Though, come to think of it, she hadn't seen him at all since the day before. Which really wasn't that unusual, he tended to hole himself up in his room. But something felt off.
  It wasn't until the following day that everyone finally found out why.
  “Really, this is growing ridiculous,” Octavian said when Logan failed to show up to breakfast yet again. “Lola, go fetch the halfling, would you?”
  Lola nodded and stood. “Yes, sir.”
  She headed upstairs, pushing Logan's door open as soon as she got there without bothering to knock. She expected him to snap at her for doing so, but surprisingly he didn’t. Odd…
His room was a decent size, but much smaller than hers. Minus the bed and the desk against the walls, it always felt empty. Even more so now, because Logan was nowhere to be seen.
“If he’s not here, where did he-“
That’s when Lola noticed the curtains flapping in the wind coming from an open window.
She tutted. “Honestly, you can’t even be bothered to close your window? …wait.”
“What’s taking you so long?” A voice said from the doorway, almost causing Lola to jump. Almost. She turned to see Clyde entering the room. “It’s been long enough that now Octavian sent me to fetch /you/.”
“Well I /would/ have been back already, but the halfling isn’t even here.”
“What do you mean, where else would he be?”
Wordlessly, Lola gestured to the open window. It took Clyde a minute before it clicked.
“You don’t think…?”
“Would it surprise you?”
“Not particularly, to be honest.”
“My point exactly.” Lola started walking around the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing if he left a letter or something.”
Clyde nodded and walked to the window, peering out. “Well, if he did go out the window, I think he must have shifted.”
“There’s no note. You think he ran away?”
“Would it surprise you?” Clyde threw her question back at her.
“Not particularly.”
“I say we take one last look any place he could be hiding, and if we don’t see him then we can assume he ran away.”
“What are we supposed to tell our parents? Octavian?”
“What do you mean? The halfling is finally out of our hair, good riddance.”
“I know, but what about when this gets out? How will that look?”
“That’s not our problem.”
“It could be,” Lola retorted. She didn’t know why she was so flustered. How many times had she -had they all- wished for the halfling to be out of their lives? Now it had happened, she should be jumping for joy. So why was she filled with dread?
Logan was only twelve, a few months younger than her. That was awfully young to be out in the world alone.
Not that Lola cared.
He was just a halfling, after all.

snagging a spot here <3

march 3 – daily Julian's POV, Wonder this was the only book i had right next to me

In August, we got this phone call from Mr. Tushman, the middle school director. My mom was not happy about the call, but we couldn't really do anything about it. So I came to school, before school even started, to give a deformed kid a tour.

Mr. Tushman opened the door and said, “Come on in, kids.” None of us looked at the deformed kids or his mom, we just stared at Mr. Tushman. “Thanks so much for coming, guys—especially since school doesn't start until next month! Have you had a good summer?” We all nodded silently. “Great, great. So, guys, I wanted you to meet August, who's going to be a new student here this year. August, these guys have been students at Beecher Prep since kindergarten, though, of course, they were in the lower-school building, but they know all the ins and outs of the middle-school program. And since you're all in the same homeroom, I thought it would be nice if you got to know each other a little before school started. Okay? So, kids, this is August. August this is Jack will. This is Julian. And Charlotte.”
Jack Will and I said a quick “Hey,” shook his hand, and looked down. Charlotte didn't, but gave him a little wave and told him it was nice to meet him.
“Hi,” August said, also looking down.
Mr. Tushman told us he wanted us to take him on a tour of the school. “Maybe you could start on the third floor? That's where your homeroom class is going to be: room 301. I think. Mrs. G, is—”
Mrs. Garcia, Mr. Tushman's assistant, called out from the other room, “Room 301!”
He told us we could show him the science labs, computer room, library, performance space, and the cafeteria.
“Should we take him to the music room?” I asked.
“Good idea, yes. August do you play any instrument?” Like he would even know what an instrument is. Just like I thought, he shook his head.
Blah, blah, blah. Nice selection of percussion instruments. August always wanted to play the drums. I didn't care at all about this, I have no clue why I had to be here. Finally, we could get away from Mr. Tushman and August's mom.
We went to room 301, our homeroom then went to the science room. I gave him a tour of the science lab, pointing out the incubator, chalkboard, desks, chairs, Bunsen burners, the gross science poster, chalk, eraser… Yeah, I know it wasn't the type of tour Mr. Tushman wanted, but he wanted to give August a tour, and how would I know what he knows?
He had a few questions like what was homeroom and is Jack's name Jack or Jack Will. He was so ridiculous. I couldn't help laughing. I told him the science elective was supposably the hardest elective. But, I had a few questions that I wanted answered. “Why is your hair so long? What's the deal with your face? I mean, were you in a fire or something?” I showed him the rest of the school.
“The word's ‘supposedly,’ by the way,” August said. I didn't know what he was talking about. “You said ‘supposably’ before.” Like he would know anything. When he started to follow Charlotte and Jack up the stairs I cut right in front of him and made him stumble backwards. I was going to have some fun this year… (575 words)

Nickname - Ava
Content - March 3rd Daily
Word Count - 392/300
Topic - Write from someone who's not the protagonist's point of view
Cabin - Horror

LET'S GET STARTED

Why did he always have to go off on those daring adventures and then leave me behind? Did he really love me? Why would he pretend like nothing's happened when he got back, and then go off once more a couple of days later?

These thoughts wandered through my mind as my spouse Paul once again went out on some weird expedition just this morning, forgetting his breakfast and goodbye to me once again. Saying I was hurt was an understatement. This time he had crossed the line.

I wondered if he had his cell on him. After calling him three times, I heard a faint buzzing sound from upstairs. There I found his phone, left on a pile of laundry. I tried calling the small speaker in his car, but then realized he had left it and just gone by himself after looking outside the window and seeing our blue car right there in the shed like it was last night.

Last night when he finally came back.

But of course, he had to go off again. I sat down on the stairs and buried my head in my knees, rocking slightly back and forth. Apparently, that slight movement turned into something much bigger, and I accidentally rolled down the stairs, hurting my head and falling unconscious.

A WEEK LATER

As I sat in the hospital bed, I was relieved that my neighbors had heard the thud, or I would have bled out there and not made it. My head was tied up in a nasty bandage, and I looked around for Paul. All I saw was my mother who instantly came to hug me, my cousin sister who enveloped me too, and my brother who waited for the females to finish and then hugged me separately.

'W-Where's Paul?' were the first words which came out of my mouth. My mother looked dejectedly at her feet and my brother said angrily, ‘He didn’t come. Said he couldn't. That his quest was more important.'

And then, right there, was the last crack for my heart as it shattered. I went back into my sleeping position and put the blanket over my head, saying for everyone to leave my room so I could have a good rest. After they all left, I cried myself to sleep.

Guess he really didn't love me anyways.

Daily 3
Queen Scarlet had been on a peaceful flight in the Claws of the Clouds Mountains when everything changed.
She’d encountered, in the nearby forest, two nearly full-grown dragonets: A MudWing and a SeaWing. Which begged the question: why would they be together? And why did they not know who Scarlet, Queen of the SkyWings, was?
Queen Scarlet. It had always had a nice ring to it.
And then the SeaWing hard stuck a scavenger’s claw in her tail. And it had hurt. Three moons, it had hurt. They’d escaped. But not for long.
She’d found them - the dragonets of destiny - in a cave. But were they really the dragonets of destiny? They had no SkyWing among them, and maybe no SandWing - the SandWing of their pathetic prophecy didn’t look like a SandWing. They were living with the traitor Kestrel, as well as a RainWing dragonet and an aduly SeaWing and SandWing. Scarlet decided to take them anyway, after killing the adult SandWing (their SeaWing guardian, sadly, had escaped.) She’d already decided what would happen to the dragons.
Kestrel would be put on trial. She would be found guilty. She would die.
The undersized maybe-SandWing would be given to Burn, as a token of their alliance. Burn would enjoy it, she knew. And she would keep the RainWing for herself. Pretty art was always nice, and if the RainWing died, that would only add to the thrillingness of the battle. Maybe. Scarlet wasn’t sure.
The rest of the dragonets would go in the arena. The SeaWing was aggressive, and she might even make it out.
Almost. She would lose against Peril.
Everyone lost against Peril.
But the MudWing and the NightWing would be new. Especially the NightWing. She was excited to see what would happen. Would he read his opponent’s mind to see where he was going to be attacked next? Would be see the future and see how he could beat his opponent? The NightWing would certainly be thrilling.
Pain jolted her back to reality. She had bumped into a very tall tree. She proceeded to set it on fire.
She watched it burn to ashes, then told the guards surrounding her, “Let’s go.”
At the SkyWing palace, she flew to the throne room, leaving the guards to deposit the prisoners where they would go. Peril was there, pacing uncomfortably. Scarlet was careful not to touch her. She didn’t particularly feel like burning to death right now.
“Hello, Peril,” she snapped. “What are you doing here?”
“Um.” Peril shifted her weight nervously.
“Well?” Scarlet impatiently muttered.
“I was going to say hi to the MudWing,” Peril burst out. “Can I?”
Scarlet waved her claws carelessly. “You can if you wish . . . but not until tomorrow,” she added quickly. “Today, I need more black rocks.”
“Alright, Your Majesty,” Peril said, ducking into a messy bow and scuttling out of the room.
Scarlet yawned. Everything was as it should be. She stood up to choose the prisoner for that day’s battle.
Little did she know she had just set in motion the chain of events that would lead to her death.

Mango's Journal/Just a Fruit: A Daily Challenge for Myself

So, how this works is that I write in my main OC's (Mango's) POV about something, anything. It could be their past, something that they like, just a ramble that has something to do with them. I have to this daily, and write at least 100 words per daily entry.

Why I made this: So I can keep track of Mango's adventures, to motivate me to write, get me closer to my word goal, and because Mango is just a fun character to write about, having the ability to fit in a real-fi theme and fantasy theme, my two favourite genres to write in.

Day 1: The Beginning || 328 words

Well, hello there. I'm honestly surprised you're reading this. Would you really want to know about the strange life of me, a nerdy awkward teen who's only trying to move through life? I don't understand what person would read this.
Well, if you're still here, I may as well tell you about me. I'm Mango, a chaotic teen that no one really takes notice of. Ever since I was in 1st grade, no one except those who truly cared about me stuck even a bit close to me. Now, I'm simply trying to survive with the help of my good friends and hobbies. Seriously, Paper Mario is basically my one source of comfort. Do you really want to know any more?
I use my spare time either playing video games, drawing, writing, and occasionally playing percussion. Playing the drums is a secret passion of mine. Writing and drawing tend to be the things I do to express my feelings in creative ways that don't include sharing it out loud. And of course, we can't forget my obsession with cats. As an owner of 6 cats, it's easy to say I'm a cat person. They're the little creatures that may or may not be there when I need comfort, something fluffy to hold, something cute to stare at.
I'm often see as the kid who's quiet and has all of the homework answers. I don't really see where they get that from, because I'm like a mini egg: a shell of peace on the outside, and not far down is a full out sugar rush that consists of two phases: chaos, and video game chaos. I'm surprised no one sees me as the sugary chocolate that has all of the energy in the world.
So, did you enjoy knowing about me? I doubt you do. But if you somehow still have faith in this story… well then… I'm Mango, and starting on the next page is my life story.

Day 2: How I Met My Brother || 475 words

I met my brother only 11 months ago, almost a year ago now. No, he’s not nearly a year old, instead, he’s actually 11 years old. I think he was nearly 11 when he met me…
My brother’s name is Maverick, and he is the sweetest most unique kid I’ve gotten the honour to know. He’s always there to comfort me, to play with me, to talk to me, everything I need. Well… not everything. More on that in a later piece.
How did I meet him just 11 months ago? Well, it all started when I was outside for once. I leaned up against a tree in my front yard, sketchbook and pencil in hand, drawing away. I had been drawing for roughly half an hour, just finishing a piece of art which had Olivia finding Bobby just chilling out during a sunset, not even knowing I’d find my own Bobby.
Someone walked by occasionally, but I didn’t pay attention to most of them. But one person really caught my eye: this kid, who didn’t look to be any older than 11 or 12, not even as old as me, 13, wearing a backpack. Why was he wearing a backpack? What the heck was he even doing? That was what I was going to find out.
As the kid walked by me, just about 10 feet in front of me, I made a tiny noise. The kid looked at me strangely, and in a scared way. I smiled, waving at the kid. He turned back around, beginning to walk away.
“Hey!” I said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. The kid turned around again. This was my chance to speak. “What are you doing with that backpack?” I asked him. He shrugged. “Come on, tell me! I don’t bite. Where’s your parents?” I asked. The kid sighed.
“I- they- umm…” he stuttered. I nodded to show him I was listening. “Well…”
He told me his life story. Everything. His parents splitting apart, his father and how much of a trash bag he is, his friends leaving because of his father, and him fed up with life. He told me his name is Maverick. I like that name. Not just because it’s my brother’s name, but it’s just a cool name. He told me that he just decided to leave his family, like his mother did, in search of something new. Maybe I could be his something new.
“Could I perhaps show you around my house? Maybe even stay the night?” I asked him. He thought for a second and nodded slowly. So, I ran into my house and showed him everything, including what is now probably the most important thing we have in common, Paper Mario.
That’s what created probably the best relationship between siblings known to people. And I hope it stays that way.

Day 3: What in the Name of Kirby: Part 1 || 698 words || Caps warning

There’s one thing that I’ll always regret but at the same time, never regret. The day I made a wish that nearly drew my brother mad. The day I began to say “What in the name of Kirby”.
Ok… so, it was a few months ago. I had a Kirby obsession. Maverick, however, didn’t understand why this little puffball who just eats was such a big deal.
“Poyo!” I’d say, the exact same way Kirby would say it.
“Could you please stop? You’ve been making Kirby noises for an hour now…” Maverick would say from his bedroom, annoyed, trying to sleep. Yep, I’m that person who makes weird Kirby noises at 11 at night. Well, I guess I might be the first person who does that…
That night, I was looking out at the sky, dark blue with twinkling stars spread across it. Then, I saw a large beam of light, a shooting star. I didn’t believe in wishes, but for fun, I secretly wished for something. Under my breath, I muttered this:
“I wish for Kirby to exist in real life.”
Then I went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up to a variety of Kirby noises. At first, I thought Maverick was playing Kirby.
“Maverick, are you actually playing a Kirby game?” I yelled down the stairs. But, he snuck up behind me, still in his pyjamas, leaving his room for the first time this morning.
“How could I be playing Kirby? WHY would I be playing Kirby is the better question, actually,” Maverick said, startling me. I turned to face him.
“But, I… I heard Kirby noises. No one else would be playing Kirby. I even turned the game off last night,” I said, then realising a quite possible possibility. I heard more Kirby noises, and then, I actually saw Kirby. Walking up the house’s stairs, exactly how he looks in his games. He stopped when he saw the two of us, and waved.
“Hi!” he exclaimed, still waving. Maverick ran away, screaming.
“AAAAAA SCARY PINK MONSTER THAT COULD LITERALLY EAT THE WHOLE UNIVERSE!” he screamed, cowering in his room. I didn’t say anything for a moment. I barely even moved, or blinked.
“It’s… Kirby… in my house… AND IT IS THE BEST THING I’VE EVER HAD HAPPENED TO ME!” I exclaimed, hugging the puffball. Kirby seemed a bit confused, but didn’t mind the hug. Maverick came out of his room a few minutes later, glaring at me. He signalled me to come into his room. I followed, telling Kirby to stay. Maverick shut the door when both of us were in his room. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“What is this… thing… doing in our house, Mango?” he asked. Well, I was done for…
“Well, see, I… I wished on a shooting star… I wished that Kirby were real, but I obviously meant it as a joke…” I said, more nervous than I had ever been around my brother. His glare got scarier after every word I spoke.
“I’m sorry, so you WISHED this thing were in our house? Do you think our safety is a joke to us!?” he said, his voice escalating quickly.
“No, it… it was just a joke… I- I never a-actually expected i-i-it to happen!!!” I explained quickly. Maverick obviously didn’t care whether it was a joke or not.
“Mango…” his voice calming down. For a moment, I was relieved. “This is…” he said, pausing. This is what? Just an accident we’ll be able to fix if we work together? “The DUMBEST thing EITHER OF US has done!”
“Even dumber than-”
“If you have to ask, yes!!!” he screamed, his voice startling me with every syllable.
“Well, I can fix it if you want-”
“I don’t care WHAT you do at this point! You can keep it and I leave, or remove that thing and make sure it NEVER comes back, and I’ll consider staying! It’s not like I’m an official part of this family yet, so leaving is easy,” he said, opening the door. He expected to simply walk out of the house as a threat towards me, but, something much worse happened….

Day 4 (Slightly late because of unexpected Technology pause): Ramble About Eva || 355 words

Oh my goodness… Eva is the most lovely girl I’ve ever met. We understand each other’s struggles, and we’re by each other’s side when we need it!
Eva, a teen who struggles with anger issues (and not just normal anger issues) is my love, the person I adore, even more than Maverick in ways.
It started when my brother and I were teleported to a place in a world where powers were just the norm. When I had been teleported, a few people greeted us, and brought us over to more people, their friends. None of them really caught attention to me, but one…
One of the friends was mysterious, all I could see was a little bit of brown hair poking out of a dark blue hoodie, and half of the person’s face was covered by the shadow. Their legs were covered in black track pants, and they were just leaning against the wall, their arms folded, seeming bored. That just intrigued me more, so I went up to them first.
“Hello there,” I told the mysterious person. The person who had first introduced me to the gang of friends seemed concerned, as if I shouldn’t be doing this.
“I wouldn’t-” she said, pausing, and then shrugging her shoulders.
“Don’t speak to me, please,” the mysterious kid responded.
“Why not? I’m friendly, I promise…” I said back. Then, the kid growled, leaning close to me for a brief moment before running away. I followed them without really thinking, and ended up alone, the kid no longer in a hoodie, not even a kid. They were… a cat?
From there, we fought a bit, until both of us were fine, and made up.
“I- I’m sorry…” they said. “I overreacted, anyways, I’m Eva…”
“That’s alright, I understand where you’re coming from, I’m Mango!” I responded. Both of us then smiled at each other. The more we looked at each other though, the more we noticed we started to… blush?
It just kept going from there, we spent time together, and eventually began an amazing relationship, one that I would do anything to keep alive.
*blushes*

(This is the story of Valerie Thatcher, who was a side character at the beginning of my book series and becomes the villain about halfway through)

March 3rd Daily

“I lied. You believed me. Who's the stupid one?” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from falling. “Shut up,” I spat, my voice breaking despite myself. He looked at me, his green eyes twinkling like they always had. "You actually thought you would get away with this, didn't you?“ he smirked. I shook my head. ”They're coming. They'll save me." He actually laughed. "You think they're coming for you? That would cause one to make the assumption that they care about you. Clearly you don't remember, so let me clear things up for you.“ He squeezed his hand into a fist and the glowing teal bonds around me tightened. I stifled a scream, falling to my knees. He walked up to me and knelt so we were at eye level. He put two fingers under my chin and tilted my head up so I could look at him. ”The same people who you think are going to save you left you here with me." A cruel smile spread across his face. "So as you can see, dear sister, no one is coming to save you. You're alone. Just like me.“ ”No,“ I choked out. ”They wouldn't have-“ He laughed again, this time bitterly. He stood up, letting my head fall. ”They left me. What makes you so special? What makes you different from any other one of us?“ ”They promised me,“ I said, but the force had gone out of my voice. ”They promised me too, you know,“ he replied. ”Clearly, they lied.“ A swell of hurt overwhelmed me and the tears came again, this time in full force. ”I thought-" “You thought wrong.” His voice was harsh. I thought about all the times where they had left me, all of the secret meetings. It seemed obvious now. How could I have been such an idiot? The hurt faded, replaced by anger. “They lied to me.” “Yes, they did. So sad, isn't it?” he said sarcastically. I clenched my fists. “Shut up.” “Look, Val, I'm just trying to-” "I said shut up." I felt a surge of power rush through me. I stood up, the fetters around me broken. My brother no longer looked smug. Instead, his expression was one of surprise and terror. And instead of it alarming me like it would have just hours before, it delighted me. I wanted him to be afraid of me. I was someone to be fearful of. I thrust out my hand and the chains that had been fastened around my arms and legs now tightened around his limbs. He fell to his knees, our positions now switched. “Elias.” The name that had haunted me for years now. I had spent my life running from him, hiding from him. “Val, what…” He trailed off. I grinned, satisfied with the knowledge that for once, I was stronger than him. I was finally the sorceress I had dreamed of being all my life. “You'd better run,” I told him.

March 3
414

Ava was very conflicted. She knew that she was known by many, and hated by most, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wished that someone else understood her pain, but the closest she had to that was Thorn, and she didn’t count. She would prefer to pretend Thorn didn’t exist. And Thorn seemed to agree. Ava hadn’t made her do anything, yet why did she feel so guilty that Thorn was stuck with her in St. Mungo’s? All Ava did was ask, she didn’t force Thorn, and Thorn had agreed. Heck, she had even told the entire world what she had done, and that was no Ava who made her do that. So maybe staff would find out eventually, but Thorn still could’ve put off the inevitable. The problem was, Ava felt guilty for what she did, and she didn’t even know why she had done it. The best she could say was that she was sleep deprived when she made the choices she did, which was true, but was she really that tired that she had made such a reckless choice. Thinking back, Ava realized she was a very reckless person. No wonder so many people hated her like they did. She had given them reason to, she might as well have handed it to them on a silver platter. She wished she could go back in time and warn her past self not to do the stupid actions she had done. She didn’t see a way she could make it better, they were past apologies. She needed something drastic to show her regret for her decisions. She needed to show Lucian she really did care about him and was sorry for what she had done to him. The old part of herself was still saying “well, if he hadn’t threatened you then all this wouldn’t have happened.” but she tried to ignore that. She was better than that now, she was strong, brave, courageous and resilient, she wouldn’t let her old self get the better of her. She had two choices, she could try and change, rewrite herself as the protagonist, or even just another person, in the story of Hogwarts, or she could let herself be the antagonist of it all. Maybe she would even end up being the scapegoat. She didn’t know what to do. So all she did was lay down on the bed in her room and close her eyes, trying to escape herself.

March 3
252 words

He seemed to take my silence as a way that I was trying to politely say no: although if I were to say no I would definitely do it brutally. He stuttered quickly, saying that I didn’t have to say yes. I think it was the tears in my eyes that had him panicking the most.

He seemed to be looking for something to say, most likely an apology, when I finally found the courage to give a tiny nod. Cautiously, as if I were as fragile as a porcelain doll, he wrapped his arms around me. He seemed nervous, so I made no move to scare him off. As little as I wanted to admit it, I was carrying a lot on my shoulders and I was too stubborn to unload it on someone else.

He seemed to be steadier, and I could feel myself calming down, however slowly. Maybe I needed to tell people what I was carrying. But that would ruin my “flying solo” rule. If you depend on someone, they depend on you. Them depending on you means—“F-feeling better?” He stepped back from our hug and barely stuttered, unlike earlier when you could barely make out the words he said. He stood a little taller, and she was beginning to wonder if he was a second year—or even a third year. “Yeah,” she considered her answer carefully. “Yeah, I’m better thanks.” She still had something on her mind but she wasn’t sure how he would react to it. “I’m Ava.”