raya's directory
weekly two | 241 words

PART ONE:

I played checkers for maybe twenty minutes(?) with my little brother.

109 words
For your information, I could've dominated and won every game. But, for our sake, I made it so my little brother (let's call him Lucas as a placeholder) won the whole thing. It's really fun and exciting though, and I wouldn't trade the world for his happiness. Lucas has loved playing chess ever since my family and I taught him how to. And now he even holds small ‘championships’!
So, this made me feel great! For one, I was having time with Lucas. Two, we were both having fun. And three, we were relaxed. This is one of my happy places, and I think it's one of his, too.

PART TWO:

I read a bunch of PJO The Last Olympian in bed last night

132 words
I know I wrote in my journal the other day that I love echidnas and was thinking that they're really cute and all. But reading about some guy mentioning the monster Echidna kind of made me want to erase that.
Opinions aside, I enjoyed that little bit of reading. Reading helps me relax and escape to another world. Reading Percy is a plus, too. Sometimes major things happen right near where I live. ‘Cause, you know, knowing that Kronos may be walking down your street is really cool.
Welp, I’ve been reading myself to be for much of my life since I could read. Without it, I find it harder to sleep. It's just a routine I do! It's all in bed, and sometimes go to sleep with the light still on.

PART THREE:

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 least 500 words.
THIS IS SO TRASH XD

416 words
Rain clouds rushed in on Manhattan, and lightning streaked the dusk sky.
“Oh, no,” said the Queen, clutching her staff. “This can't be good.”
Her king nodded gravely in his throne. “It seems the Vanilla Army has finally made it.” He looked out the window with a spyglass. “And with reinforcements. Knight Percebel, alert Knight Renn and the Chocolate Army to attention. It's a one-sixty. It seems the time has come to stretch our legs a bit.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the knight bowed. She scurried out the door.
The King sighed. “Are we ready?” he asked.
“Yes, dear,” replied the Queen softly. “But I think you should stay close to our tower. It is safer here.” She fumbled with her hands.
“Oh,” he said. “Don't worry. Though my curse has proclaimed me paralyzed, I still can ride a stallion as well as you can fight.”
“Right,” the Queen stopped fidgeting and straightened her breastplate. “Well, the sooner we get there-”
“The sooner we're back to drink hot chocolate!” finished the King. They laughed. “Rook!”
A short man stumbled in through the doorway.
“Fetch Ace! I'm going to need a horse.”

“Aaaaargh!” was the sound everyone heard during that day. The battle was bloodless. Instead of masses of blood and maimed bodies, woodchips spewed from each injury. There were no screams of pain, but screams of shock that an adversary had knocked a piece out of a bishop or another.
“All hands on deck!” shouted a Knight in the ranks. “Libby Rook, take your archers to the Statue of Liberty and shoot down the boats!”
“Got it!”
“Abe Rook, to the Rockfeller!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Bishops, help the wounded!”
“Aye, Renn.”
“And pawns, with me and Percebel!”
“Yarrrrr!”

As for the Army of Vanilla….
“Is our little pawn coming back? Can you see her?” asked a Knight.
“No, Prue, not at the moment,” a small pawn said. She peered through a microscope on a deck.
Prue groaned. “It's been six hours and she still hasn't come back yet?”
“Well,” the pawn whimpered. “It does take an hour per square acr-”
“Well, I don't want to hear it, Ably!”
“Y-Yes, of course,” she cowered.

A while later, a boat appeared on the ocean's horizon.
“Prue! Prue! Wake up!”
“Wassamatter-”
“Bella's back!”
The knight jumped up and focused the microscope on the ship. “Well, bless my helmet! Our little girl's all grown up. Run down and get the rowboats ready, Ably. We'll need to haul her in quick.”
“Yes, ma'am!”

Claim

claimed teehee D

A note for part 2: I haven't counted the last 9 words as it's a quote, so not my writing. (so actual word count and the word count I've provided aren't the same)

PART 1: 103 words
I sat down and placed my puzzle in front of me. It wasn't necessarily difficult, just satisfying to see it all come together. Somewhat like pieces of my life that I'm trying to piece together. But it never lasts. After a few days, those thousand pieces all go back into the box, and have to wait months, or even years, to see the light of my lamp again. The relaxation that comes from this is immeasurable. So many people don't understand the happiness I get from jigsaws. And to those people, I pity, for one thing is for sure: they are missing out.

PART 2: 134 words
With my puzzle placed in front of me, I switched on the television. ‘Amphibia’. Perfect. ‘The Hardest Thing’. Even better. If you watched it without seeing any other episodes, you simply wouldn't understand the magnitude of sorrow I feel while watching it. In fact, the first time my eyes saw the moon hurtling towards Amphibia, I could only cry. For the full thirty minutes. Watching best friends say goodbye, knowing that they'll always be worlds apart is one of the most emotional things I have ever seen. But it has changed me. Before, I clung to the past, but now, I know to let go, even if it's hard, because no matter how much Anne wanted to stay in Amphibia, she knew she couldn't. If there's one thing I learned from it, it was: ‘Change can be difficult, but it’s how we grow.'

PART 3: 729 words
I sit with the puzzle piece in my hand, staring at it. A little pink frog's skin is shown on it, and when I place it in its correct spot, his face is finished. My best friend Sprig, laid down in front of the image of me, Sasha and Marcy. That was a great night: the Battle of the Bands. Grime may have won, and me and Sash may have had one of our arguments, but I had loads of fun playing with her and Mar-Mar. I wish she was still around, but she had to move away. Besides, if it wasn't for that, she'd never have made me steal the music box and taken us on the greatest adventure of our lives. I wish I could return to Wartwood, though. All I want is to see him again, even if it was just for one last time.

But I can't return. It's impossible. I have a feeling the music box doesn't exist anymore, and even if it did, it's in Amphibia, and Sprig won't have access to it. Besides, there's no way that the new stones would have enough power, they were probably destroyed straight after the portal closed. I know there is a way to travel to Amphibia, but we could never generate enough power to do so. I've kept in contact with everyone from before, and we're trying to find a way back, but I doubt that if I returned to Amphibia, I'd never come home. There's no way I'm going to give up though. I'd do anything to see my froggy friends again, even if it did mean that I'd be stuck in Amphibia, for real this time.

Just as I'm pondering my thoughts, I get a text from Dr.Jan, asking me to meet her at the spot where we're trying to build another portal to Amphibia. I head over, and see her, Mr. X, Terri, Jenny, Jess and Ally, with Sash and Marcy following me in. I can only assume they've been invited too, and there's been a breakthrough in getting us back to Amphibia. We've been trying to develop a generator that's powerful enough to generate the electricity needed, but so far, we've had no luck. But as Terri plays the usual notes for Amphibia, the portal opens up, much wider than before. It's only just wide enough for me to crawl through, so I quickly grab my pre-packed bag I've kept here for months now, and crawl through.

But it closes behind me instantly, and I only just catch sight of my friends' faces before the portal between our worlds closes, and we're separated. I'd stay to try and find a way to reopen it, but I need to get home, because after all: family always finds each other.

I'm not far from Wartwood, and when I get to the square, I walk up to a purple frog, who has their back turned. When they hear me from behind them, they turn, and a huge grin is plastered on their face. “Anne!” they say in exasperation, and hug me.
“Uh.. this is awkward… but… do I know you..?”
“It's me, Polly!”
“Polly? Oh my frog, look at how much you've grown! And… can I just ask… is that a giant statue of me..?” I point to the stone statue in the square, and simply take in at how the little fiesty tadpole I used to know is now a frog. I really have been away for a while.
“Oh yeah, by the way, have you seen Sprig?”
“No, is he at home?”
“Yeah, he hasn't stopped thinking about-”
But I don't hear the end of it as I barrel home, and see Sprig in the garden.

He turns and sees me, and runs up to greet me, and jumps up to hug me. I don't know what to say, except our iconic phrase: “Spranne against the world?”
“Spranne against the world.” He repeats, and I instantly know that we're both glad to see each other again, after a year apart.

I put my hands in my pockets, and find a puzzle piece from earlier. I guess that's one piece of Earth that has followed me here, even if the portal did close behind me. But the important thing is that I'm back with Sprig, and we can have even more crazy adventures.

claim?

Part 1
words :

Part 2
words :

Part 3
words :

PART ONE: Do a Relaxing Activity

For my relaxing activity, I decided to use my daily walk with my dog, Pip. As well, I listened to music by my favorite artist. It’s a cold, crisp, overcast day, and my hands and nose are freezing. But I just tuck my hands inside my coat and sniffle my way onward. My walk isn’t usually my favorite part of the day, but every once in a while I really enjoy it. I think focusing on the experience instead of worrying about school helped a lot this time. I felt strangely uplifted - possibly in part due to the soaring violins and soft piano playing in my ears. Regardless of the reason, the experience was calming. Even when my dog had to stop to sniff literally every plant along the way. Which I guess just goes to show that I really needed to stop and smell the roses myself, and so couldn’t really begrudge him the opportunity. As a little bonus at the end of my walk, I got to see three pairs of ducks waddle their way across the path towards the pond.
+183 words

PART TWO: Consume Media

For the artwork / story I studied, I played and watched through the game Fallen Order (in story mode). The art and animation was awesome, so here I’m going to focus on both story beats and artwork.
The game opens with a wide shot of a graveyard of ships, exuding a sense of fallen majesty. Many of the ships are empty husks of republic vessels, likely ones Cal would have ridden during the war. The junkyard is impressively massive, especially given the scale of even a single one of the star destroyers. My favorite part of the gameplay is the way it blends between cutscenes and scenes where you actually have to do the action. It’s very seamless, making you feel like you are Cal. Perhaps most striking of these scenes is the haunting Order 66 flashback. Turning away from trying to follow his friend, Cal finds himself on a sleek, potentially military vessel instead of the broken-down train he occupied before. The doors ahead stretch on ad infinitum; without warning, the lights on the walls flash red, and the doors they begin closing. You run forward, and suddenly a large purple alien (who just looks kind of like Zeb to me…I should probably know what he is tho) lifts you up in the air with the force as you attempt to stumble backwards. Everything in this scene was haunting and jarring without taking me out of the story.
+238 words

PART THREE: Story

Walls crept in on all sides. A sharp smell, the scent of chemical cleaners, stung my nostrils.
I was back there.
No, I was following Beta and Jess down a dark corridor.
I shuddered, paused.
Shut out the visions of needles and tried to shake off the invisible manacles that clung, clung, clung to my arms—my paws—no.
No.
NO!
I closed my eyes, but the blackness didn’t help.
Opening them, I found myself in a clean, utilitarian prison.
It looked like a hospital, but I was not fooled. I could feel iron shackles attaching me to an oh so familiar bed. It was hard as a rock, though I would have preferred sleeping on pebbles. Sharp pebbles. Gravel. I closed my eyes again, feeling tears leak out. I gritted my teeth, shoving the pain away. I needed to . . . I didn’t know. I needed to do something. Jolt myself awake. Escape this nightmarish daydream.
The alarms went off.
Shaking my head and growling, I felt the telltale signs of an adrenaline rush. The pounding of my heart grew loud in my ears, and my arms and fingers trembled.
I knew what happened next.
I waited for Jess to barge in through the shining white door, her gun held high.
Waited . . . .
Waited . . . .
The alarms shut off without warning, the scathing sound disappearing as though I’d imagined it.
Red continued to flash in long, LED strips along the tops of the sleek walls.
Still, I waited.
This . . . wasn’t how it was supposed to work.
I stared at the door, willing Jess to burst through.
Beta? Takeo? Sachiko? Nick? Miles?
They weren’t coming for me.
I was alone.
Alone, alone, alone . . . .
The word pounded in my brain along with my heartbeat. Panic grasped my chest in cruel talons, making it difficult to breathe.
I sat up and yanked my arms, trying to claw off the clasps of metal. They dug into my skin, drawing large, red gashes against the brown as I struggled more. My arms were weeping, and suddenly I was weeping, too. My chest shook, tears dribbled down to my chest. Gasping, giving up, I curled up as best I could on the cold, cold bed. My arms twisted to either side of me, my legs pulled up to the manacles, forming a crude attempt at the fetal position.
With a final sob that jolted my arms against the metal, making them throb further, I quieted.
The red lights didn’t even flash anymore.
In fact, everything was quite dark and silent. I hadn’t noticed in my fit, but I could barely see even without the tears. Sniffling, I glanced around, eyes protesting as I looked far to the side. There was a slight sheen on the metal walls, cast there from some unseen light source.
Chest aching, I shoved myself up again, hoping for a better vantage point. My arms cried out. I grimaced, looking to either side.
There. A white light shone on the pad that must have controlled medical equipment. For some reason, it calmed me. My chest didn’t hurt so much anymore, and I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat. I sighed shakily, studying it. It was an even glow, purely white. I tilted my head, wondering what it indicated. All the other lights in the room had gone out, but not this one. It must be important.
I pulled my legs up to my chest in a futile attempt to get comfortable. The bed tilted up in the back, so I was partway shifted into a sitting position whether I wanted to be or not. The manacles kept my arms down on the flat portion of the bed, so sitting up halfway made them burn as the cuts were pulled against the metal.
Huffing irately, I scooted down, trying to avoid the pain.
I wished now I hadn’t cried. My cheeks were uncomfortably sticky, and my mouth tasted of salt.
Still feeling shaky, but about as comfortably situated as was possible, I found my focus again drawn to the faint glow of the white light.
If only I could reach the panel, perhaps I would be able to unlatch my bonds. But it was impossible to stretch my legs across such a distance. In the end, I placed my head back against the meager pillow. Now that I’d slept on better fare, it really did seem terribly lumpy and inadequate. But it was something.
I closed my eyes.
I tried not to cry again; it would just dehydrate me.
I realized I was slipping back into my old mindset. Focused solely on the next meal, avoiding punishment, and surviving—or else ending everything quickly.
The thought . . . made me sad. But that didn’t help anything. Merely made me feel more like slipping away into darkness. Disappearing sounded nice. It was probably the best fate I could hope for.
No. That was wrong.
I could be free. I had been free.
Beta and Jess . . . they would come for me.
I struggled to picture them, struggled to hope. But I was left alone in the darkness, where I belonged.
Eventually, it carried me away softly into the realm of sleep.
+857 words

SWC weekly week 2

Outside thingie

It’s been raining consistently where I live, which is really not common, since I live in an urban desert. Normally, in the winter, we get an occasional week or two of rain in the winter, and then maybe, just maybe, in February, there will be a drizzle that is a little more than a mist but hardly rain, and everyone will excitedly pull out all their rain gear and it will become a much bigger deal than it is.
My point is, where I live, it doesn’t rain. So you can try to imagine how we feel that there have been constant downpours for almost three months now. I’ve hardly been going outside. Everything gets canceled. So for my off screen activity, I went and played soccer in the rain for a while.
I still feel soaked, but there’s nothing like sliding in mud to really up your mental health (and I mean that quite seriously). I took a hot shower, which felt amazing, and then after that, I sat down and wrote. I started a new novel that I’ve been thinking about since I just finished a short story I’ve been working on, and I think my activity really boosted my motivation and creativity.



Song - my boy (billie eilish)

I haven’t listened to this Billie Eilish song in a while, but it was stuck in my head all day. It’s a lot different from her newer songs, I would argue, but I still love the little Billie touches.
A lot of the lyrics hit pretty hard this time around. Now I think they resonate with me a lot more, but it definitely has to do with the fact that i’m analyzing it. By the end, I was screaming along, and it felt so good.
I’m listening to it the second time around, and trying to get down my favorite lyrics.
“My boy loves his friends like I love my split ends, and by that I mean he cuts them off.”
“My boy's an ugly crier but he's such a pretty liar, and by that I mean he said he'd change.”
I wish I had remembered this song to listen to in certain situations, and I think I have a few playlists that this will definitely be rejoining.


Story

I flip my hood over my head, making sure my earbuds are covered. The downpour reminds me of the stories where the weather reflects the characters' moods.
The music is also immersing me in a pit of self pity. I walk forward, glaring as hard as I can at the mud puddle that my converse sinks into. I gulp as the sticky liquid seeps into my shoe.
I yank my shoe up, holding up my ankle to look at the damage.I pick a piece of grass off, until I realize it’s a smushed clover.
Four leaf, I might add. Best of luck.
And speaking of my luck, I hear a voice behind me speak. “What are you doing out here? This place is a whole swamp in the rain!”
I whip around and look at the black hooded figure behind me. The rain, making it impossible to hear anything behind you.
“Oh,” Piper looks up. “Skylar.”
“Still in a happy goth little aesthetic,” I comment. He raises an eyebrow and his eyes scan my clothes, which, hypocritically, are also all black.
I stand and stare at him, wiping rain off my face, and then realize my hand is covered in mud.
He smirks, and I roll my eyes, leaving them looking to the side, where I can see the small airport he probably came from.
“Come on, Kye,” Piper charmingly half smiles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Such a pretty little liar. I watch his eyes, which always have that little glint. I can read it, and I don’t trust him. I don’t trust myself.
He watches me, and reaches for my hand. “Sorry. I can go,” I mutter, my eyes flicking back to him. Now his smile is amused. That amused smile ticks me off. The one he always wore when I would yell at him, or show any sort of emotion.
“Kye–” Don’t call me that, I think, “–I’m sure you’re just going to walk back to your stepdad’s house from here. At least let me drive you. I have my permit.”
Oh, wow, I think sarcastically. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s half flooded. There’s no way you could walk,” He persists.
“Stop insisting. I’m fine. I’m going, now,” I snap, and that amused smile comes back. “Don’t give me that. I’m not the only one you cut off,” I spit.
“You’re the only one who still holds such a grudge,” Piper’s eyes are dangerous. “Get over it, Skylar. You couldn’t have just walked over to Airport park without thinking of me.”
“That’s egotistical,” I note. “I come over here all the time, and I happen to never run into you.”
His smile falters. My earbuds ring with the opening notes of some angry song, fueling me. “Good seeing you, Pipe,” I huff, turning, and stalking away from the park.
“I can change!” Piper yells after me. “I have changed!”
“I’ve changed enough to know who I can and can’t trust,” I whisper to myself, my strides quickening.
I hop step over a purple and peek back, and I watch him straighten himself out and turn. I can imagine his eyes gleaming, but now my eyes can gleam too. I smirk and walk away.

WHY DOESNT ANYTHNG I POST WORK

SPEED-RUNNING THE WEEKLY- B)
UPDATE: NVM, NOT FINISHING

Part One
Do a relaxing activity.

(WORD COUNT: 100 words, not including the side notes)
I had a nice cup of hot tea and drew in my sketchbook. The tea was quite pleasant, and made me feel warmer, even though it was snowing outside. I love the burning sensation of the tea swishing down my throat, and it scorched my mouth, but I didn’t really mind. I drew many of my characters committing arson, since I was kind of cold, because the thermostat broke (:skull: it’s fixed now). That made me feel quite pleasant, because it’s always nice to improve my art skills. I worked on human anatomy (and failed devastatingly- /hj), and tried to make my sketches cleaner and lines sharper.

Part Two
Consume media

(WORD COUNT: 111 words, no side notes included)
I listened to an old classic, Viva La Vida by Coldplay ( they’re so good, go listen to them RIGHT NOW >:0 ):
I had much nostalgia from this song. I remembered road trips with my family, looking out the window, seeing Yellowstone National Park as we drove by, and the bumping of the car’s tires on the dirt road, all as this song played. I think it’s quite a sad song about a king accepting his d3@th (tHaNk YoU, sCrAtCh FiLtErBoT-) and apologizing for the wrongs he did in his lifetime. I liked the sadness of the song, compared to the mass of happier ones we usually hear. I felt the drumbeats and the orchestra instruments (I mostly heard viola or cello, I think) working together, one steadily thrumming, while the other shimmering


Part Three
Write a story

120 words (forever unfinished :skull

August tapped her foot on her dad’s front porch. She bopped her head to the sound of the music she was listening to, her headphones shivering, threatening to fall at any moment. “Now in the morning I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to know…” August sang, drumming on the table next to her, which was holding her tea and sketchbook. Unlike most people who only heard music, August could see it and imagine greater pictures and possibilities whenever she listened to it. She sighed as she noticed the tea, and took her headphones off. August didn’t really want to have some, but her father would insist, “at least until the furnace’s fixed, drink it to warm yourself up.”

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 331

◦°☆ Hello, I’m Dawn! <33 ☆°◦
They/her
Artist
Dystopian - SWC Mar. 2023
#DystopianFTW!!