Weekly 4
496 words
save code: 66456

Part 1
318 words

Detective: 106 words
Agatha Carmine is an intelligent journalist who writes about unsolved crimes and mysteries. Instead of just writing about how they're unsolved, though, she wants to figure out the real stories behind them and uncover the truth. She is stubborn, determined, and creative. She is a quick thinker and problem solver, but, unlike most detectives, she is clumsy and disorganized. She can become so invested in a case that it's the only thing she thinks about, which makes her become absent-minded. Her workspace is always a mess and she is always bumping into things. Agatha is the hero of the story and wants to solve the mystery.

Partner: 107 words
Holly Morgan is logical, organized, and ambitious. She is detail oriented and has a great memory. She is a writer for a different paper than Agatha's, and she is also interested in solving mysteries. She and Agatha start off as rivals, both investigating the same case and competing to have the best story. While they initially don't trust each other, the deeper into the case they go the more they realize they need each other. They end up being an unstoppable duo in solving cases. Holly helps Agatha stay organized and keep track of the facts, while Agatha teaches Holly to look for patterns and solve puzzles.

Suspect: 105 words
Lila Zackery is a dreamy, imaginative artist who works at the museum where the crime was committed. Unluckily, she was found walking away from the crime scene right after it was committed. The detectives spend a lot of time questioning her because her alibi is riddled with holes– there is barely anyone to confirm her alibi for the time leading up to the crime. The people who can confirm her alibi are suspiciously not answering any questions. Lila subverts the suspect trope because she is a genuinely honest person with nothing to hide, who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Part 2
178 words

Agatha stepped into the art exhibit, notebook ready, and took in the scene .From afar, everything looked normal. All the paintings and statues were in their typical positions, and there was barely a speck of dust marring the pristine glass protecting each artwork. However, approaching the exhibit of the most famous painting, Lady with an Apple, it was abundantly clear what was wrong. Instead of delicate strokes of oil paint, the image was rendered in bold, blocky marker. The Lady's face was posed in a sassy smirk, and instead of her signature red apple, she was holding a bright red Apple phone. The colors and shapes of the fake almost perfectly matched the original, but the details were intentionally off. The thief had clearly made it with the intention that it would look the same from a distance, but be clearly different up close. Agatha sketched a picture of the fake, noting anything that stood out. She suddenly heard another set of footsteps behind her and whipped around. Seeing who it was, Agatha groaned. It was Holly Morgan.

Part 3
/350 words

PART ONE: Brainstorming Emotions
I really want to be able to use many different methods to convey emotion in this writing. First, dialogue; I love writing dialogue. Imbuing emotion into the character’s word choices, how much they say, how much they don’t, whether they’re yelling or hissing or whispering or mumbling, is such an important part of making emotion clear to the reader in an almost subconscious way. You can understand, from the fact that someone is yelling, that they’re either excited or angry—rather than having to say “she said excitedly” or “he said angrily” you can infer the emotion based on words and inner thoughts of the POV character. This is one thing that I think I could improve and capitalize on. As well, body language. I am often at a loss for how to describe expressions and have a hard time coming up with the proper description of body language to convey the right emotion. As well, I plan to use sentence length and the way they’re organized to convey emotion. For example, using short, almost terse sentences to show anger, shock, or actions happening quickly. As well, I want to show the character’s impressions of different characters, events, and things by the way they describe them. By which I mean, one person might describe a house as beautiful, but another might view walls as nothing more than a cage, and have no appreciation for its architecture, or a non-visual or blind person wouldn’t even think of it in those terms—perhaps merely stating that it was a house.
+256

PART TWO: Emotions in Character
He was keeping things from me again.
How could he do this? How could he live with himself, despite the lies? Yes, lying was our profession, but it was impossible to work together with these secrets. Every nerve was buzzing inside of me, telling me—no, screaming at me—to run, to give up, to stop trusting him. It was okay. I just had to survive. That was what was important.
Survival.
Thanks to his lessons, it was possible for me.
He had made me—and he had made me independent.
But still he kept things from me.
“Do you hate me, Bea?” Jax asked, the expression in his dark eyes indiscernible as he tilted his head.
I wasn’t sure.
“No, I don’t hate you, Jax. . . Not yet.”
It was conditional, and he knew it.
We both knew it.
What didn’t I know?
I inhaled deeply, trying to relax my tense shoulders.
“Come on. Please. What is it you aren’t telling me about the words?” I asked, rubbing behind my shoulder blade with one hand. The slight pain felt good.
The two of us sat before a long ash wood table, staring down at a piece of paper. Letters were written in plain black ink across it. The alphabet. I knew almost every letter by now.
Jax shook his head, leaning forward in his chair. He clasped his hands too tightly together, so his knuckles turned white. Something was bothering him as well, I realized.
“Not yet, Bea. Soon, I promise. But what I tell you won’t make sense until you understand basic writing. Please,” he gestured to the paper.
Paper.
So rare, so expensive. Yet he paid for it, to teach me forbidden lessons.
I closed my eyes, letting my hand drop to my lap. My back protested at the abandonment. With a sigh, I opened myself to the world again. Jax was looking at me, brow furrowed, lips tight.
“All right,” I agreed, picking up the pen and beginning to scratch black forms marring the even white.
+336 words

PART THREE: Emotions in Prose

My character feels lost and betrayed. He hates himself for blaming his father, who died, for abandoning him, and therefore barely acknowledges this fact. Instead, for years he has attempted to be his best self for his dad’s memory. Now, he’s finally realizing what he feels towards his father—apart from the idolization that has so controlled his actions. He feels betrayed, by his emotions, by his father, and by the world. +71

Ro stared at his muddled reflection in the golden blade. Relaxing his muscles took effort, but eventually he melted into position. En garde. Ready, he tightened his grip on the leather hilt. It was warm and familiar, welcoming the embrace of his calloused hands.
Spinning, he swung his father’s sword against the offending tree, slicing a large gash into the bark almost effortlessly.
He wasn’t really sure what had so offended him about the stout oak.
Perhaps it was the cheery leaves, bright green, reaching hopefully upwards as though to touch the sky.
With a grunt, Ro pulled the sword from the trunk and slashed again, and again, and again. Beneath his powerful, aimless strokes, a checkerboard pattern marred the brown bark.
Huffing, Ro felt a release. The tightness in his chest loosened, and he let the sword drop so its point sunk into the soft earth. Rage dissipated, leaving behind a boy devoid of its fervent energy. Like a balloon suddenly untied, he wilted, unsure what to do, as aimless as the harsh strikes against the oak tree’s trunk.
He had learned how to wield his father’s blade.
He had joined the army and was performing well.
He was helping to train, perhaps, one of the most important people alive.
Through everything, he had persevered. Never questioning authority and doing everything his King had asked of him, like his father had.
So why wasn’t he good enough?
Not good enough to bless.
Not good enough to fight. Not good enough to believe.
All he got was this discarded blade.
All he got was a hole in his stomach, and no spark in his heart.
He had thought himself his father’s heir.
But he had been born broken. Worthless.
And now, he lived faithless.
Not strong enough to believe in magic, once his father’s lifeblood.
Not strong enough . . . not strong enough. The words whispered, repeated, surrounded him, reverberating around the empty clearing, unheard by anyone else. Caressing him, cuddling up close, begging him to acknowledge them, to give in. It would be so easy. To sigh, turn away, give up.
Why hadn’t his father been strong enough?
Ro shoved the sword over, unable to scrape up the ability to care as it fell into the dirt, splattered with grime and dew.
It was his father’s lifeless body, splayed out on the forest floor.
It was Ro’s ambitions and determination, abandoned in the dirt.
It was hope.
It was dead.
Ro closed his eyes, shutting out the unseen, disappointed eyes, the phantom shaking of heads, the past versions of himself that had cried out in pain as he’d flung them, and the sword, to the ground.
I don’t need you anymore.
Just like Dad didn’t need us.
Ro turned, opening his eyes. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, but he didn’t wipe them away. They were a shadowy reminder of his anger, which he welcomed, for it was so much easier than the pain.
+493 (apart from simile and metaphor, I used anaphora and asyndeton)


PART FOUR: Bringing It All Together

Her eyes shone, glinting with some unseen light—a blazing fire deep inside. “It’s like . . . everything is finally, finally starting to make sense.”
I nodded, smiling.
Falsely.
Well, it wasn’t entirely artificial; that was what made me hope she believed it. I was happy for her. She deserved to get her feet on the ground. She deserved happiness. She deserved to be free.
I . . . did not.
“That’s great, Cal,” I said, hugging her tightly. She was warm against my cold. But the embrace didn’t quite light me up in the way it should.
“Thank you,” she whispered, head tucked against my chest.
I pulled back. “What for?”
“For . . . being there. For all of it. For helping me see.”
Confused, I nodded, squeezing her hand in what I hoped was a comforting way. “Of course.”
I felt so lost.
Wandering through an endless wood . . . watching where the waves met the beach . . . edging ever closer to giving up.
But I couldn’t.
I had to be strong, for her.
I had to try.
I was better than this.
The water rippled continually, beckoning me forth. Sparkling in the light from a sun I could not see.
I closed my eyes, but it just made the image sharper.
Shaking my head, I focused back on Calypso.
Oh, Cal.
Her hair was tied back, as usual, auburn strands shining in the firelight. She looked almost like a torch herself, though I knew she would despise the comparison.
Firelight, glinting on water like a liquid sunset.
No.
I had to be strong, for her. I couldn’t give in to the whispers of peace. Even if I had to sacrifice my sanity, in the end, I would not give in. I needed to be better.
Better than . . . .
I shut out the image of a woman, kneeling beside the eternal river.
I raised a hand to stroke Calypso’s red, red hair.
Saw a glimpse of a time when she would be alone, and afraid, and I would not be there for her.
My heart shuddered. My body went cold.
Had I deleted something without meaning to? Without thinking, I went through my memories, as if searching through them would do me any good. I would not find what was missing. Could not. It was lost, if I had truly sacrificed something, it would never return.
I refused to let that happen to me.
Refused to die for nothing.
“Is something wrong?” Calypso asked, tugging free of my embrace.
I blinked. “No, I’m fine. . . . How is your training going?”
It was an obvious diversion. Calypso narrowed her eyes, twisting her lips in a disbelieving manner. Eventually, she accepted it, though she eyed me more carefully as she talked. Explained Leander’s strange, violent behavior—but his inexplicable softness towards Eris Samar. Spoke of Sai’s easy manner, how much she enjoyed the simple, fun competition of sparring with him. I had never known her to be so . . . content. Had she finally managed to escape her burdens by resolving to take action? Or was she merely forgetting where this training was headed?
“Good. That’s really good, Cal. I’m glad it’s going well,” I said, trying to keep the creeping doubt from my voice. It wasn’t that I refused to believe she could possibly be content. I just didn’t know how to believe it.
Calypso nodded, a slight smile curving her lips. With a yawn, she turned away. “I think I’m headed to bed. Thanks for listening, Apollon.”
“Always,” I promised.
Softly, the door closed behind her.
Click.
Shutting her out, and trapping me alone with my dangerous thoughts.
I sat down on my bed, my hands searching out my lyre by instinct. I suppose I subconsciously knew what I needed, even if I didn’t realize it.
Taking a deep breath, I strummed, easing a melody out of the familiar strings. I focused only on the music, let the chords rush over me, like a cool breeze after a hot day. Wisps of sound came from outside, a quiet burst of laughter, muffled by walls. It melded into my song as the music rose lightly to a crescendo. Then it drifted down, notes like leaves floating away on the swift current of a river.
I sighed, setting the instrument aside. Even music had been tainted by my obsession. I knew I would feel better if I erased something. But giving in felt like losing not just the battle, but the war. For how much longer could I keep going—keep making up the steps in this strange dance between my past and my future?
I didn’t know.
I wasn’t sure I would until I fumbled. Tripped, only to land in tomorrow not remembering yesterday.
+778

“Darling”

Once upon a time, a princess wanted to leave her castle. In opposition to this wish, she had a cruel mother who refused to let her - she wasn’t even allowed to open the curtains.
The princess longed to be free and see the outside world, to explore the lands she read about and saw in books, to see light that wasn’t candlelight. She had to learn everything from literature because her mother wouldn’t tell her anything. In fact, her mother often refused to talk at all. Sometimes the princess wondered if her mother even cared about her, the evil woman.
But even though the princess hated her mother, she couldn’t bring herself to open the curtains. Something felt wrong about doing so, and the fear that her mother would be angry was too strong. Her mother could get terrifyingly furious. She was wicked and terrible, after all.
Some days, though, as the princess sat alone in her room, staring at the closed curtains, she felt tempted to open them. To just…know. Truly know what it was like out there.
And, one day, she couldn’t resist the temptation.
The princess stepped up to the curtains, her breath shaky. She was going to open them, she decided. She wasn’t going to go outside, though, she was just going to look. She was just going to look.
Gripping the edge of the cloth, she pulled it away in one motion. Outside, she saw…
Red. It was solid, yet unnervingly undulating red. It was a writhing, infinite expanse with nothing in it except the very castle the princess was standing in. The princess felt a chill race down her back.
Shadows lurked at the edge of the princess’s vision. She flashed looked to the side to try to get a look at whatever was there, but only saw more red. Terror flowed through her. She stepped back, reaching to close the curtain, but couldn’t bring herself to. Her arm couldn’t finish the motion.
The shadows crept further into her vision.
A crow appeared on the windowsill from…somewhere. It stared up at the princess with dark, beady eyes. Her heart pounded, and she swung the curtain closed, putting forth all of her effort, and succeeded. Was she safe? But what could only be the crow’s voice lurked in her head.
“Darling, go back,” the crow cawed.
The shadows crept further into her vision. Fear gripped her body, and pain dug into her mind. She screamed.
“Darling, go back,” it cried.
“Darling, go back.”

The mother raced up the steps, her shoes tap-tap-tapping against the stone steps and echoing in the tall stairway. She knew something was wrong, she’d heard the scream. She knew that there was hardly any reason for someone to scream in this castle, no reason that didn’t involve going outside or even just seeing and knowing what was out there.
Once reaching the top of the stairs, the mother dashed down the barren hallway to her daughter’s room. The door was closed and locked. The mother was determined, though. She grabbed a decorative mace that was hanging from the wall next to the painting of the man who had wielded it in his lifetime. It was a prized family heirloom - when there had been a family, at least.
The mother rammed the mace into the wooden door. Again, again, again, again. The wood began to chip away. She fought, but she knew she was too late.
At last, the mace broke through, and the mother reached her arm through the hole to unlock the door from the inside. She slid the bolt over and opened the door slowly. She didn’t have the energy to fight fate anymore. She knew her daughter was gone.
The princess lied on the floor, her body…
The mother moved over it to the curtains, which she knew the princess had opened. That was the only way that could have happened. The mother felt empty and hollow.
She had nothing left. Only herself in this lonely castle, for all eternity. Trembling, she opened the curtains. She would finally be free, finally know, finally see.
“Darling, go back,” the crow said, but the mother let the shadows creep in. She did not fight, like her daughter did. She knew her fate, now.
“Darling, go back…”

“And they all lived happily ever after, darling.”

March 23, 2023

Very old warrior cats fanfiction that I wrote in 3rd grade and am very embarrassed of:
~~~
Sunlight, Cloverdawn, and Lilyshine exited the camp. Sunlight lifted his nose into the air, trying to catch a whiff of Glasspad or Forestpad’s scent. But all he could catch was ferns and a particularly recent deposit of foxdung.

“They can’t have wandered far,” Lilyshine said, looking around.

“I don’t know,” Cloverdawn sighed. “No one has seen the two since yesterday. They could be all the way in Stoneclan for all we know.”

Sunlight cocked his head. “You’re acting like this was some sort of deliberate plan. They’re just two young apprentices. It’s not like anyone would have any motivation to capture them.”

“I wouldn’t be so optimistic. Someone could be trying to make a statement. If they could capture two apprentices so easily, who’s to say they can do more? Apprentices don’t just disappear without a trace. Especially when there are people patrolling the exits.”

“Okay that’s enough,” Lilyshine sighed. “Speculating isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to start looking.” She looked at Sunlight expectantly.

“Right,” Sunlight said, surprised Lilyshine regarded him in such high esteem. It made his heart quicken a little bit. “Why don’t we split up and search for them? We can meet back here at the fourth hour. Keep in mind that this is only a small scouting patrol to scope out the situation. We’re not going to be spending a long time tracking a lead. We’re just trying to get information.”

The other she-cats nodded, and with that, they set off. Sunlight headed towards the Moonclan border, where the shrubs grew taller and the plants seemed to be judging you. Sunlight never particularly liked the Moonclan area. He was very thankful for the sprawling hills and light greenery of Sunclan.

Sunlight paused at a large collection of old trees and looked around. There was nothing immediately suspicious, but Sunlight knew he was never going to get anywhere with mere surface level observations.

He padded towards an old tree, perhaps one of the oldest in Sunclan territory. When he approached just a few meters short of the tree, a sharp scent filtered through his nose. He stopped.

Sunlight sniffed around carefully. He was now almost certain that the smell was coming from the tree. It was a weird scent. Not quite sweet but not quite bitter. But it was certainly strong. Sunlight had never smelled it before.

393 words

Daily - March 23rd - 331 words
This was a story written when I was 10 :') it's where the narrator (Crystal) has a huge crush on this guy named Jack but he seems to be more attracted to Heather, the most talented girl in the school. This is just Crystal ranting about how much she hates Heather despite Heather being an absolute angel to Crystal so it's all out of the place and that's what Crystal's personality is like basically.

It was another day of school, and I was looking forward to it. The only person keeping me sane in school was Jackson– or Jack. He was the boy of my dreams. He was intelligent, handsome, caring, and strong. But there was one thing, it always felt like I was friend-zoned. And no matter how hard I tried, he always had his eyes on Heather. Heather was everything I wasn't, she was in the cheerleading team, and the student council, she got straight A's, and she belonged in a magazine. What was I compared to her? Nothing. Just nothing, probably a piece of trash at most. I was a total mess, I wasn't really smart nor really dumb but I wasn't talented enough to join any of the clubs. I was just a mediocre student that wouldn't stand out like Heather. And the way she walks, it's like she's strutting down the red carpet. Maybe her personality is kind but she irritates me. Sometimes I really wish she were dead… UGH! That's when I see her strutting down the hall to go talk to Jack. Awesome, just awesome. But of course, it would be no surprise she would be a total fangirl over Jack, probably because he's the captain of the football team. I groaned and put my head down, but I was looking at Heather and Jack from the corner of my eye. That's when I saw something horrible, something I would've never thought would happen. Jack gave Heather his sweater and they seemed to be all blushing or something, but that just got my blood boiling. I wish I could scream at the top of my lungs and give Heather the worst of me. But she was an angel, I couldn't do that. Plus that would leave me in the principal's office, which I didn't want. But oh well- the bell rang… perfect timing. I don't want to be stuck watching these two get all lovey-dovey with each other.

Daily for thriller!

—

After walking for a good hour, she came to see a silhouette against the darkening sky. It was pacing in a circle, its head in its hands. Pearle furrowed her brow and began to stride towards the creature. She crept quietly, yet still it noticed and looked up at her.

Up close, Pearle could see that it seemed like a mix of human and fish. It had legs, allowing it to pace around, but they were teal and scaly. Its torso liked like that of a fish as well, although most of it was covered by a T-shirt proclaiming;

SAVE THE TURTLES!

Odd, for a turtle’s typical prey. Pearle shook her head, and began to speak.
“Are - are you quite alright?” The creature shook its (humanesque yet scaly here and there) head, and began to sob. Pearle’s eyes widened and she awkwardly kneeled down to pat it on the back. She was tempted to recoil, for as soon as she came near, a pungent fish smell hit her nostrils.
“There, there, everything will be OK. What’s your name?”
The creature sniffed before whispering, “Meena, miss. My sister was Lina, but she - she - oh!” Meena burst into tears again, water pounding the dirt-covered floor. Pearle cocked her head. This sounded like …
“What happened to your sister?” she asked.
“Lina was - she was -” Meena stuttered. “She was taken to the - the - the Relentless Impiety Terennes!”
Pearle only just managed to stifle a gasp. “Why, the very same thing happened to /my/ sister! Rosemary was her name. I’m trying to find her, you see. What brings you here? Surely it’s no good for a fish to be out of the water.”
“No.” Meena hung her head and pouted. “But it’s alright for a few days before I dry up; I’m not /fully/ fishy. I’m here for the same reason as you. Only, only I don’t …”
“Don’t what?” Pearle asked sympathetically.
“Oh, I don’t know how to get there!” Meena cried.
“Well, neither do I, but we might as well try. Would you like to join me? I’d hate to travel alone.”

Meena looked Pearle straight in the eye, a childlike smile playing on her lips. She held out a fin.
“Deal!”

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Weekly #4

Part 1: Creating Characters

Character 1: Marbles Tae

Marbles is just an ordinary school boy. However, when it comes to mystery, Marbles reveals instead of his usual intelligence at school, but higher and more advanced skilled intuition and observation which leads to good deduction skills. He likes to read and play games with his best friend Weren. However, he keeps his intelligence as a secret because every time when he solves a case there appears to be something - or someone - stalking him. Which is why he has a pseudonym whenever he's out to solve cases: Agent 649. He always wears a mask to prevent his identity being discovered. So far, no one had known about his secret except for his friends Weren and Luna, who accompanies him on his missions. 122 words

Character 2: Weren Wolfer

Weren is a popular and attractive boy in school and is often a role model for others. Unlike Marbles, he is well loved and treated kindly because he's nice to everyone, even his enemies. He is also very kind towards his friends and always care for them. He often assists Marbles on his missions and is undercover as Agent W. Again, unlike Marbles, Weren is quick to jump into conclusions and is not so observant. This is why he is often embarrassed easily whenever attempting to solve Marbles' cases. However, Weren is not so popular at the enemy side. When Marbles is often endangered, Weren can get away with things pretty easily because he can morph into a werewolf. This is the reason why Marbles, Luna and himself can escape the enemies easily. 133 words

Character 3: Luna Leonard

Luna, like Weren, is very popular in the school because she's perfect in everything. No matter in science, sports, language, studies, whatever you name, she aces it all. However, she is as smart as Marbles and their intelligence and deduction skills often rival each other. However, they always solve cases together as they believe that both their hypothesis combined can help see a bigger picture to solve a case easier. Luna, too, has a code name of Agent Purple. However, Luna had recently been keeping a low profile or probably had disappeared because the last time when she was seen was when she was sent out to identify the enemy's base location. No news has ever been heard about her ever since. 122 words

Character 4: Lisa Turnip

Lisa is a friend of Luna. For a short period of time, both Luna and Lisa were friends with Marbles. However, Lisa slowly started to realize that she doesn't really think the same about Marbles as before, especially since he and Luna are closer now because Marbles had saved Luna from a terrible demise. Ever since then, Lisa started to antagonize Marbles, but still remains as Luna's friend. Luna, surprisingly, is oblivious to this fact because Lisa is a very good actor and liar so she often gets away with things easily that are in her way. In a recent case, however, Lisa was caught as she was a suspect if she works for the enemy organization, the same organization Luna was sent to investigate. Will Lisa manage to overturn this if she's the liar? 135 words

Character 5: Martin Rogers

Martin is the most feared person of the school Marbles, Weren and Luna are in. He is also the one who always bullies Marbles as Marbles appeared to be meek and timid, which was entirely true. However, ever since Lisa started to despise Marbles, Martin convinced her to be friends with him so they can torture Marbles either for information or for fun as they both hated him. Martin is also known to be extremely aggressive as he appeared to have severely injure people at school which was beyond human strength. Marbles and Luna had guessed that Martin might have used high-tech equipment to injure the students, but it's not yet confirmed. This information also added him to the list of suspects. 122 words

Character 6: Security

Security is the security of the school (if you can't see the match). He is the one who keeps the school safe and secure and also prevents intruders to enter the school without the principal's permission. However, recently it's been shown that he's been practicing more martial arts skills than ever which was not required in the job description in the security post. Marbles and Luna both wondered why he needs more self defense. Weren suggested that Security might anticipate more vigorous enemies. It all seemed to make sense until Marbles caught a valuable piece of information. When he removed his mask that he wears every time when solving cases to keep his secret hidden, he instantly saw Security next to him. This caused Security to be in the list of suspects, whether if he is truly at the wrong place at the wrong time. 145 words

766 words

Part 2: Suspenseful Event

Recently, Marbles had been pretty depressed, as one of his companions had disappeared. Luna, the missing sidekick, was last seen when she was sent by their head to investigate the enemy base location, but was never found ever since. It's either she's keeping a low profile or had no ways of communication. However, Weren provided Marbles the information that he was looking for. Luna is held captive at the enemy's base, which is very deep in a remote forest. But by who? There are three people who were acting suspicious lately when Marbles and Weren knew that a member of the opposing organization would kidnap Luna, and those three were having abilities normal school students or average humans that are lacking. The three are Lisa, a girl who was Luna's friend but betrayed them, Martin, a bully of Marbles and Security, the security guard of their school. Out of all three suspects, who is the one secret member?

158 words

Part 7: Fast Pacing

Event 1:
Marbles and Weren had arrived at the location. It shows many people guarding the entrance. Marbles is determined that they will save Luna, but somehow all the three suspects are roaming about the area, someone had set them free, but who?

Event 2:
Marbles knew someone among the three suspects had used their emergency bomb, which means all three knew who was the culprit. The evidence had been sent by the research team (Weren wanted to follow Marbles because they're friends.) Sadly, the enemy had also found out where they were and launched an attack.

Event 3:
The members of the agency and the enemy organization began to fight as Marbles and Weren sneaked into their headquarters to save Luna.

Event 4:
Marbles told Weren regarding the strategy on how to fight back the enemies. Weren is surprised at his friend's intelligence and they finally reached Luna.

141 words



Marbles sat down on his study desk. It was time to interview the three suspects. He pressed a hidden button that was just protruding off the edge of the desk, which was almost barely in view. Instantly the desk opened up in an unusual way, somewhat like how doors open up, but in a shape of a desk. Marbles walked through the door. In the hallway showed Weren who was holding a clipboard on one hand and a pen in the other. He was taking down notes from the other members of the detective team about their current case - The Mystery of the Missing Agent. Both Weren and Marbles knew who the agent was. It was their friend, Luna, who was captured by the enemy organization. But luckily they've gotten three suspects to question. But who is it? Still deep in thought, Marbles and Weren arrived at the custodians' areas to interrogate the suspects: Lisa, Martin and Security, all who are actually part of Laticon High (Security works in there). Weren couldn't really control his emotions over his lost friend, so he aggressively rushed and rattled all three prisoners' bars violently, “Tell us where Agent Purple is, NOW!” he shouted. Marbles stood there, horrified. He had never seen his friend lose his control so easily like that. Marbles walked slowly towards his side, patting him gently on the shoulder, “Agent W, calm down. We still need them alive for information.” he looked at the three suspects, all - except Security - was trying to see who is behind the mask. Marbles smiled, there is no way they could ever find out about his identity unless he isn't careful enough. Marbles turned again towards the suspects, and spoke in a calm and cold voice, “What were you three doing before Luna was taken hostage?” He asked coolly, which convinced Lisa and Security to answer. "I was trying to take a walk, but then I saw Luna just walking into the forest and I wanted to say hi to her because we're such good friends.“ Lisa said in a flowing manner but it took longer for Security to answer, ”I was just thinking of improving my physical abilities so I can combat much stronger intruders as I am slacking in physical attributes recently.“ Security answered. Martin remained silent. Marbles cautiously walked up to him, ”Martin? What are yo- Huh? What's that?“ Marbles pulled Martin across the bars when he saw a note tucked in Martin's pocket. Weren snatched it before Martin had time to react. ”It's a letter from the enemy base! Martin, that means you're our prime suspect.“ Weren said as he pocketed the note, leaving Martin to frown. Marbles turned back to the suspects and said, ”You all better be careful. Even though we have a main suspect, it doesn't mean he's the culprit." After he spoke, he left the custodians behind while he managed to catch up with Weren with that valuable piece of information. It is the first step to a new case. 506 words

Two days had passed, no new information had been gained. Weren had sent the note to the inspection team, but there was no results. But the inspector in charge said he needed more time as he notice a small patch of ink that seems out of place. It did not look like ink. Marbles had given them slightly more time. But Marbles was anxious. They might not find Luna on time, as there was a letter from the enemy organization: "To Agent 649, your friend Agent Purple is still in our hands. Turn yourself in alone without Agent W coming with you. You have five days left to do this.“ The letter was sent to Marbles two days ago, they have three days left to save Luna. ”C'mon, c'mon…“ Marbles muttered, they've not much time to waste. It took a bit longer to investigate that tiny print on the note, because it was so minute it was simple to miss it. ”However, there is still a chance.“ Marbles thought of it as Weren spoke that sentence at the same time. They were together again, discussing about the suspect's questions and trying to find ways to solve it. ”Martin didn't say anything, honestly…“ Weren said, thinking that Martin is their main suspect. But Marbles objected, ”No, didn't you see Security taking a while to answer? And we didn't tell the suspect's where Luna was missing, so how did Lisa knew? Besides, if she knows about it, then she'd go to the police or a detective agency and report it!“ Marbles concluded, sadly. They were still back at square one. Weren sighed, ”Wait, is that your ringtone?“ he suddenly asked. Marbles quickly picked up his phone, no one really ever calls him. This can be another clue. A blood-curdling shriek came from the other side of the line. It was so loud Weren could also hear it. ”Woah! Luna?“ Weren asked. Marbles was shocked, he was scared for the first time in front of him. Marbles turned on loudspeaker mode and heard a harsh voice, ”Where is the location for your agency?“ he demanded, while they heard Luna's voice pleading in reply, ”I can't tell you! Please let me go! Ah!“ The last part really hit him, Marbles had slumped on the ground, now knowing his friend's condition. ”Luna…“ he whispered softly. The caller finally spoke, ”Now you understand how your friend is feeling. If you don't hurry up and get here, you'll eventually never see her again." the voice call ended after he spoke, leaving Marbles and Weren traumatized by Luna's shouts during her tortured moments. 435 words

The investigation team is weak. The enemy is weak. We are weak. I am weak.

Marbles thought of that over and over again, laying down paralyzed on his bed ever since from the day he heard Luna screamed in terror. They only have 30 hours left to save her. “When are they going to find any source of clues? I want anything, I don't care if it's useless to the case… just anything…” Marbles whimpered, cowering in his room. Weren knocked on the door. “Marbles, are you there? I was sent to give you this letter from the agency. I think it's the report of the investigation about the spot on Martin's letter.” Marbles jolted out of his bed and rushed to the door. “Does it contain vital information?” he asked urgently. “I don't know, I haven't read it yet.” Weren replied as he handed the documents to Marbles. Marbles ripped open the folder and saw the files it contained. Slowly he and Weren scanned the files. The ink was blood. The blood belonged to Luna. They had used Luna's blood to write the letter, but some dripped as tiny spots on the paper. “So, do you have any idea regarding these clues?” Weren asked, Marbles nodded, everything was clear now. “Weren, we have to go now. It makes so much sense!” Marbles exclaimed, after reading the letter properly. Weren just stood there while Marbles quickly opened the secret door to rush to the agency, “Huh?” It was too late, Marbles had left him. “Why does he never tell me what in the world is going on…” Weren muttered to himself while following Marbles into the secret entrance, at the same time scanning the letter,



Weren managed to keep up with Marbles by shifting himself to a werewolf. He had never seen his friend run so fast before. “Huff, huff. Marbles, slow down. You don't need to be so fast…” Weren panted as he approached Marbles' side, only managing to hear him talking to the other members of the investigation team, “Luna's in trouble! And if we don't launch an attack fast, we'll all be in danger.” he demanded to the team, they had no time to lose. Weren walked slowly towards Marbles, still oblivious to what was happening. “Excuse me, Marbles? What the hell is going on?!” he asked, frustrated at his friend's denial at answering him. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Weren. It's an emergency. The enemy wants the agency to be disbanded and all members in it killed so they can take over Laticon and change its leadership style to dictatorship, which means they will be brutally murdering people for merely no reason.” Marbles and the agency simply cannot allow that. Weren stood there, paralyzed to take in too much information, “How in the world did you managed to know?” he asked, curious. Marbles smiled, “It's simple. Aside from Luna, I'm the smartest person in the agency, that means they'll be targeted the smarter people to torture them for information about our whereabouts, which means they can easily overthrow us unexpectedly. This is why they wanted me to go to the enemy base alone. But there's a flaw, the caller called me when I'm with you.” Marbles said. Weren stood there with his mouth agape, slowly sinking in the information. “So that's why you called everyone to back up! But why am I important?” Marbles glared at him, surprised that Weren is still unknown to the fact that he is in the research team. “Weren! You can inform everyone about the call! That's what you're suppose to do, because you're in the research team, they tell us what to do!” Marbles frowned, leaving Weren shocked at his ignorance, “Oh my! I'm so stupid! I'll go make a call now. Marbles, get ready, we are going to launch an attack!” Weren called after him as he left. Marbles smiled, they were so close. The battle will soon begin. 374 words

They had arrived. Deep in the forest, was the enemy's base. Marbles felt tense, his breathing started to increase. They only had 2 hours left to rescue Luna. Marbles turned to the action team and ordered each of them a task, “Okay, Agent 2, get ready to camouflage within the enemies. Agent 53, prepare to launch a bomb when I'm ambushed. Agent W, stay with Agent 53 and attack with my signal.” Everyone of them appeared confused with their task but agreed to follow his extraordinary instructions. “Agent 649, we've received a signal from headquarters that the three suspects had escaped.” Weren said through his walkie-talkie. Marbles instantly knew that all three knows the identity of the secret enemy. The evidence had shown all three cells were burst opened by explosives, they are on the way here. “Agent 649, you now have 1 hour to save your friend. We had detected you are nearby and will want you to come out now or else we'll shoot your friend.” Marbles sighed, and stepped out of his hiding spot. Everyone gasped, “This isn't part of the plan!” “I thought you said we'll all ambush together!” All the soldiers complained but Weren, who seemed to know what Marbles is actually planning. “Man, he's so smart.” he muttered under his breath as the leader of the enemies encircled Marbles, like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “So, you've finally decided to turn yourself in.” he said, “So you were the one who called me to hear Luna being tortured?” Marbles asked out of the blue. The leader laughed, “What a silly question. Of course! I thought you were smart!” he continued cackling but failed to notice Marbles whispering to an agent in hiding. “And I can't believe you are so naive.” Marbles signaled the agents, and they all launched an attack at the same time. Bombs, gunfire and melees all attacking the enemies. They had no time to react the sudden attack. Soon the agents were winning. Marbles frantically tried to find his friend and finally saw Weren through the dust. “Weren, the plan! Cover me!” he shouted to Weren. Immediately, he morphed into his werewolf shape and carried Marbles up to his back. They had run down the hallway for a long time. Using a gun, Marbles took down enemies from far range while Weren slashed those who were close to him. Once they had reached the end, Weren shifted back to his normal self. “May I know how did you managed to find the enemy's weakness?” Weren asked as he let his friend off his back. “It's easy, actually. The three suspects display impatient attitudes. Lisa answered quick to end the questioning early; Security had answered short and Martin didn't really said anything but showed us a clue! This means the enemies are impatient even if one of them is the culprit.” Marbles said, then continued, “Also, I didn't said to the others why I turned myself in, because it'll create a realistic effect to the enemy. They think all of this is not part of a plan!” he concluded, leaving Weren, as usual, in shock of his friend's intelligence. “Now let's go. We mustn't keep Luna in waiting.” Marbles said as they both ran into the only door that was in the hallway. 554 words

Marbles and Weren sprinted so fast until everything around them seemed like a blur. Marbles was sweating immensely, coating his mask with sweat, making it feel very uncomfortable. However, from the radio, Weren heard a scratching sound, “…Weren… are you w-… Marbles?” That was all they could make out. Marbles snatched the radios from Weren, “Yes, I'm here. What is it?” The voice that replied seemed to quaver, “We're being pushed back, someone from the suspects - I don't know who - barged into the base and killed most of our forces. I think he is coming to you now.” “Wait, how did you know it's a he?” Weren asked, although Marbles knew who it was, “We caught Lisa. She's held captive, but the controls are still killing our agents. There is also nothing on her.” The scratching sounds disappeared. One suspect down, left with Security and Martin. “Who do you think is it?” Weren asked his friend, who was starting to feel humid under the sweat-filled mask. He was about to take it off when Weren stopped him. “Wait, be careful. We don't want the same thing to happen with you and Security.” Weren warned him, and he was right. At the moment they turn around the corner, they saw him. Martin Rogers, who was approaching Luna's unconscious body. “Martin! I knew it, it was you!” Martin suddenly shuddered at the sound of Weren, who pounced on him and tied him up. Marbles, however, saw a tablet laying on the ground, sending out a signal to the enemy, another target is coming, and it's the leader. “Martin must have signalled the leader to come get us! Quick, let's take Luna and go!” Weren urged as he was about to make a call to inform the agency they've got the secret member. But Martin isn't the person Marbles was expecting to be the culprit. The leader came, with his secret member. Together, they knocked out Marbles and Weren. The secret member removed his mask. It was Security.



Marbles woke up, realizing his hand were tied. But he was still holding on to the tablet. Security was threatening Weren about the whereabouts of the agency. “Hey! Let go of me! And why can't you find it out yourself?” Weren teased him, but Security tased him, causing Weren to yelp in pain. “Agent W! Are you okay?” Marbles screamed, realizing that he has been knocked out for a while due to his groggy voice. Security laughed, he looked at Marbles maliciously, “Wow, you've finally woken up from your Dreamland, Marbles Tae.” he said, removing the mask from his face, leaving Martin, who was nearby, shocked. “Marbles? You mean the nerdy boy I always bullied?!” He exclaimed to Luna, who was also getting up. Security smiled, “Of course! If not, why would I want to kidnap him?” He proceed to take out his taser, leaving Marbles into a panic frantic like ants getting overwhelmed by water. “You know, I'm getting tired of this. Boss has taken some of your DNA samples so he could destroy you and the country and make everyone believe that you did it. More misery for you, am I right?” He smirked at him. “Now tell me where is the location of your agency, or else I'll kill your little friends one by one. Your boyfriend had already told me that friends are your weakness.” Marbles looked at Weren, gasping for air due to the shock. Marbles looked at Security now, he was preparing to tase him. However, Security had missed out something, Marbles had a plan to counter. “Again, the enemy is too naive.” Marbles pressed a control button, sending a signal to everyone in Laticon country. Soon, the remaining agents came towards Marbles' aid. They also rescued Luna and Weren. Security tried to shoot down people at random, but he was outnumbered. Soon, the tables had turned, it was Security's turn to be tied up. “Yes, we did it!” Weren cheered as everyone filed out of the base which was preparing to explode because the enemies placed destruction bombs just in case there are a lot of agents to tackle. No one died except the leader, who was still trying to make copies of Marbles to destroy the country. 712 words

The next day, Marbles, Weren and Luna were all over the news. Security had been dismissed until further notice, which means he's coming back unless he has learn his lesson. Marbles fall on the sofa, tired of yesterday's adventure. “Well, you still haven't told me about how you solve the case of who is the culprit!” Weren scolds Marbles as he sees his friend sips a cup of coffee. “Sorry, Weren. I can't let you take in too much information, you get pretty cocky once you've done that.” Marbles apologizes, while trying to go through the case once more with Weren, this time with Luna. "It's pretty tricky trying to find who is the culprit. However, I managed to find out that Security is the one through eliminating the suspects. Firstly, Lisa isn't completely true to her words, we didn't know Luna's identity until she was captured. But luckily the note in Martin's pocket gave me a clue. 'Continue to stalk Agent 649.' This shows that the suspect is after me, and Lisa hasn't been following me, she just appeared to be stronger and it's because she's been training with Martin recently.“ Marbles breathes, then continue, ”For Martin and Security, it was a tough decision. But Martin revealed that he's been partnering with Security because he kept quiet. I didn't know why at first, but it's because of the note Security gave him. There's a secret encrypted message to Martin that took me ages to find out, but it says, 'Martin, stay low. I'll handle the talking - Security'. That was how Martin got the message! Which was why he was easily bullying his targets, Security's been helping him!“ Marbles concludes to the end of the case. Weren is surprised through all the thought and effort his friend had put into to solve the case. ”But I still don't understand, how did Security convinced Martin to work with him?“ Marbles smirks, ”That's what I'm trying to figure out." He stare at Luna, they both nod. It's time for both of them to work as a team again, to investigate a new mystery. 352 words

THE END

Total: 4359 words

Weekly 4:

Part 1: 496 words
The Main character will be Carla, a young ordinary girl with a love for books and a habit of falling into an adventure. Sometimes, her personality can change drastically and she is often an unpredictable protagonist. usually, although, she is curious and passionate about her hobbies and the things she loves. Everything else seems to come under the category of “boring”. Carla is clumsy, often diving in headfirst. She wasn't a born genius or detective, but Carla has a vast knowledge of stories and folklore, and she is amazing at quizzes. Overall, Carla's strengths are her smarts and her passion, but her weaknesses include her fixed mindset and clumsiness. (108 words)

The semi-Protagonist, in this case, would be… John. John is extremely ordinary and the quietest boy Carla knows. he can go unnoticed very easily and is often overlooked, which is amazing for spying on suspects. Yet, when something bad happens, even if it's just a dropped ice cream, John can switch from shy to fiery and hot-tempered. His rage is almost legendary for those who witness it, and often John gets very embarrassed after his rage. This also goes for his little patience, as he tries to be irritated, which… makes him irritated. Overall, John is modest and timid but is secretly impulsive and annoyed easily. (108 words)

The Main Suspect will be… Yaladine. Half-gargoyle, half-girl, Yaladine is outwardly impulsive and selfish. She is always trying to get her way, even at the expense of the world. If anyone tries to go against her, she would just pout “No way!” And be out for revenge for a good few years. Due to her gargoyle powers, Yaladine has powers to fly and transform into a statue, which are nonetheless good skills. On the brighter side, Yaladine is also determined, feisty, and confident, often helping people she likes. Overall, Yaladine is mean, selfish, and vengeful, but she can also be determined and confident. This could also mean she can team up with Carla and John at the end? (no spoilerrs ;D) (121words)

The culprit will be… Yelena. She is the supposedly good friend of Yaladine, and sometimes she even helps out on the mission with Carla and John so they could find where Yaladine is and take her down. But Yelena is also a suspect, but the least likely. She is chirpy and helpful and loves statues. She can also fly and turn into a statue, being a gargoyle-girl with her friend. Yaladine turns against her and thinks of her as “way too nice?!” to the extent it is “suspiciously nice?” Which, in turn, is true. Yelena soon turns against Carla and John as soon as they catch Yaladine framed. Helena is extremely cunning and often outwits many people with her acting and her schemes. Overall, Yelena is devious and manipulative, often pretending to be nice and lying to her friends so she can get her way and take revenge upon others all in the same act. (156 words)


Part 2: 153 words
The mystery happened right in Carla’s room. She fell out of her window (again) and then was quickly saved by Yelena. Yelena introduces herself, and that the fact she is rebelling against Yaladine. Yelena and Carla start to plan on how they get rid of Yaladine’s evil schemes once and for all, until at a knock on the door comes John. Carla introduces John to the secret magic world and the problem with Yaladine and that she is plotting to defeat her once and for all with her good sister Yelena. But when she goes into her room to find something that could help, she notices that her room is a mess of rock, and concrete, and her Book of Stories, a family heirloom that used to possess the magic of the Sun, Moon, and stars, is missing. Everything is swimming in wet concrete, and the walls have almost turned into cobblestone.


Part 3: 418 words
“Carla, what happened in here!?”
Mum was standing right behind Carla, giving her a jump.
“I don't know!” Carla gasped. She didn't want to upset her mum again. Not after she just returned home and reunited with Carla. Mum spotted the tall girl next to Carla, staring at her straight on and refusing to show any expression.
“Hello…?” Mum began.
“My name is Yelena, and I am revolting against my not-so-friend friend,” Yelena perked, raising a stony eyebrow.
“Indeed,” Mum replied, unsure of what to say next.

John stepped closer to the slowly hardening concrete, trying to inspect the cobblestone pattern etched into the once plain wallpaper without wading into it.
“There are some scratches here,” He peeped, as mouselike as ever. “Someone hurried to get out of here.
”Lemme see!“ Carla almost dived in and glanced up at the wall, where a few, violent scratches slashed against it. Mum groaned.

”This is all nonsense! It will take ages to repair everything!“ She poked grumpily a lump in the concrete. It folded over, revealing a slight, crinkled sheet.
Mum picked it up, brushing the worst of the concrete off it. She gasped.
”Carla! It's the page from our book!“
Carla swivelled around to Mum, almost knocking the coffee out of her hand.
”Sorry, Mum,“ Carla sighed. she looked up once again, ”You found another clue?“
”Yep, a clue,“ Mum handed the parchment over. John sucked in a sharp breath.
”It's from the story about the guy whose dad makes wings so they can escape that place, and he then-“

”The guy called Icarus?“ The one who flew too close to the sun, melting the wax in his wings?” Carla paused for a moment.
“Maybe it was because Yaladine tried to claim the power of the Sun, Moon, and Stars and put it back in the book? ” Yelena suggested. “Maybe she left in a hurry as well,”
“But that still doesn't explain the cobblestone pattern and the concrete,” Carla added. “The only way to would've arrived was if Yaladine poured a huge bucket of it, and there's no bucket in sight,” She and Yelena started to set off as Mum returned to her office.
John looked behind at the concrete pool that was once his friend's bedroom. And swimming amongst it, was a small, plastic bucket, with the words “The Key,” etched deeply in it.


Part 4: 458 words
“Wait, but if Yaladine's got the book, who knows what will happen?
John, Carla, and Yelena reached the front porch. Yelena suggested they should get some ‘fresh air’ to ‘refresh our minds’ so the three decided to go to the park.
Carla shrugged. ”We never know for sure what Yaladine could be doing with that Book. We just assumed that she would revive it of its former power, which could cause all sorts of things to the natural world as we know it,“
”Well, if we never know for sure, what's the point of believing our evidence so far!?“
Yelena turned to John, who was already starting to seethe. She smiled casually.
”It's the reason why we are going to find some more clues."

Almost a minute later they reached the park. The sunlight played delicately on the swaying grass, and people were out, sunbathing, having picnics, or chatting with friends. Clouds were speckled on the serene blue sky.
But the three friends could not relax.
The puffs of wispy clouds and the warm sunlight would be damaged forever if they did not stop Yaladine's evil schemes.

“Soo,” Carla prompted. “We know that Yaladine could’ve stolen my book, so she could steal back the Sun, Moon and Stars, and the practically take over the world with it… but where would she be right now?”
“And explanation of the concrete in your room do we have?” John replied, as small and shy as ever. “You think we need to go back and find more evidence?”
Helena shook her head, “Like Carla’s mum said. We can go wading in concrete. It’s not safe.”
Carla nodded. “Helena has a point, but I still do have a feeling that we should investigate the concrete before we find out about Yaladine’s whereabouts. But then again…” Carla paused. “If we just search around my room, Yaladine could be anywhere by now! The concrete must’ve been a distraction so she could run away with the Sun, Moon and Stars!”
John jumped on his feet, drawing up to full height. He was shorter than Yelena and Carla, but he stretched all the same.
“When was the last time you were face-to-face with Yaladine?”
“On the roof of the Underworld!” Carpal exclaimed, sitting up as well. “As I mean, the building that held the door to the Underworld.”
“So she would most likely be able to be there!” Yelena’s gargoyle wings flung up behind her enthusiastically. “We need to get there as soon as possible! At sundown! The most magical time of day!”


And so it was decided. Carla could not help but puff up with her newfound pride. Sherlock-ing is easier than I thought, she mused in her head.
And indeed so. Almost too easy.


Part 5: 526 words
Soon, the three friends arrived at the door of a small, brick building. The sun was still steadily high in the sky, but starting to drip down towards the horizon.
“So, what do we do now?” John breathed. “It’s not sunset yet.”
The small, metal door sat in front of them, as plain and drab as ever. Funny to think that behind it is a whole realm of ghosts.
“Carla shrugged. “Yeah, isn’t it still a bit early?”
Yelena shrugged back, raising her stony eyebrows and her wings flapped slightly. She started to turn away and walk back, but Carla halted her,
“Helena, what are we doing here? And where are you going?”
“I’m going to carry out the next part of the plan, of course!” She chatted.
“And what’s this next plan?”
“I’m going back to your house to investigate the concrete in your room! If one of us splits up like that, thing would be easier, more efficient and quicker, so this would all be done and dusted!”

“Huh!?” Carla shook her head, frustrated at the sudden strangeness of Yelena. “Of course NOT! Friends do everything together, don’t they? We need to stick together!”
Yelena almost recoiled. She hung her head and her expression contorted into one of rejection. “Are you saying you don’t trust me!?”
“NO, it’s just that-“
“Look, of you don’t want me to carry out that operation, I could go do something else that would help!“ The gargoyle-girl perked up again, her eyes shining with purpose. “I will go get some more help… I’ll go get Erica!”
“Erica!? Why!?”
“Help?” Yelena smiled once again, and took off immediately.

Carla and John couldn’t say anything. John turned around slowly and peered back up at the tiled roof of the cramped building, unsure how to get up there.
“So we just wait, then?” He sighed at the prospect of more waiting.
Carla shook her head, still unbelieving of the fact that Yelena had suddenly took off so suddenly.
“The drainpipes?”

John scuttled towards the scratchy metal pipes that snaked to the roof, and he gripped the side, feeling for a sweet spot to grip his fingers. His nails screeched across the tin.
And just then the bolted door cracked open, with a familiar face with bright, intelligent eyes and choppy granite hair.
“Erica!”Carla jumped. “You’re here!”
Erica raised her eyebrows, “Hi Carla!” Her eyes travelled to the small, mouse-like boy twittering around the drainpipes.
“That’s John,” Carla said, glancing at John as well. “He’s my mate,”
“Hi, John,” Erica waved.
“Hello,” He squeaked back. “Our other friend Yelena was looking for you,”
“Oh, Yelena? I know her, she’s friends with my sister!” Erica nodded. “I saw her early this morning creeping out of the door, with this bucket that had some writing in it… it was like… ‘The Key? It was full of this stony something, anyways.”
“The key?” Carla raised an eyebrow. John flapped, a flashback punching him.
“I saw that bucket swimming in that concrete in your room, Carla!”
Carla gasped, a short, sharp sound.
“Wait, but that means… Yelena has definitely been responsible for the concrete in my room!”


Part 6:




















(Unfinished)

Trembling in excitement, I take the last step.
My hand rests on the doorknob. Echoes of secret and highly precious rise into my mind from the tangle of evil glares and hidden mouths from supposed friends. Lana was never my friend. This is my legacy.
My other hand squeezing my butcher’s knife, I turn the handle, the rusty iron screeching like a bat as the door swings open to a night-black room. My heavy boots clink on the metal floor inside, resonating through the walls. There’s another sound. Thud. Thud. I freeze, straining my ears, but only the echo of my steps vibrates through the room. Cautiously, I feel the right wall for a light switch, wincing as tiny drops of water soak in. Nothing. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I turn on the torch. I jump back.
The walls in front of me are littered with looming spikes like teeth from my knees up, as if part of the room. Cautiously, I touch a boot to the floor between them, jumping back in shock as they shoot towards each other. Hissing, they slide back to the sides. I flatten myself, bracing my skin for the icy metal. I inch forward.
I wince as my fingers touch the freezing steel. The spikes bite together, and I squeeze myself as tight as I can as the walls close in. Dragging myself through the trap, I feel cold metal freezing my skin. I look forward. I’m halfway there.
The spikes slowly pull away. I start to crawl. Tension builds in my chest.
I feel a prickling on my back. Danger. I roll towards the spikes on my left, stopping still as concrete. I hear a sound again, a steady thud of something hard on a metal floor. Something will see me, catch me, drag me into the heart of this trap. I close my eyes, bracing for death. A resounding bang fills my ears. My eyes fly open. Steel teeth littering the ground to my right, I carefully shuffle myself towards the end. Eventually, my hand brushes a thin line. Air rushes freely past my back. I can stand.
I glance ahead. Metal walls. Barren space. Cautiously, I walk towards the end.
A bulky door stands in my way, with a thick handle and a digital code lock. I stare at it. The door to revenge, the door to freedom from Lana’s twisted friendship. Lana and her stupid birthday that she practically screamed into the streets. The tenth of the tenth of the tenth…
Grinning, I press 10 three times into the lock. It clicks, and I push the handle down. The door screeches open. The sound fills my ears again, clearer than ever. Footsteps. I race into the room, torch bobbing, and slam the door closed behind me. Squeezing my butcher’s knife, I wave my shaking phone around, scanning the silent, desolate room. It’s empty except for an orb in the centre, death-black, not even glinting in the light. My knife sits in my fist. Boots clinking, I walk towards it, lifting my trembling hand.
Smash.
The knife hits the ground, echoing around the room. My torch catches darkness draining from the orb’s glass-like pieces, spreading beautifully fast across the room like ink. I watch in satisfaction as the shadow inches to the door. I hear a clear thud. The door clicks, creaking open.
Lana stares at me, then the shadow. “What have you done?”
What have I done? I’ve gotten Lana back for her meanness. I’ve taken my side of the argument.
I’ve shown her my legacy.

weekly 3

part 1
The first thing that I want to mention is changing up sentence structure and even breaking grammar rules. Now it’s still important to know your grammar rules, but sometimes treating a sentence fragment as a sentence can give it a dramatic effect. Color and weather and other types of symbolism also exist in some stories, but I only tend to do that if I’m writing a highly symbolic book. Sometimes I like to be ironic. The saddest, most painful scene taking place on a sunny day, etc. I like to describe eyes and eyebrows a lot when showing emotion as well as body language, stiffness, how much someone’s hands are moving and how, et cetera, because implicit communication is so important. I also love exploring synonyms for said to choose one that really fits the emotion and if my narrator is a character in the story i need to think how much they’ll be able to figure out about the emotions of others. Now I said earlier I don’t like symbolism much and that;s not exactly true. I might use metaphors and such to perhaps heighten an emotion, but most of the time if the curtains are blue, the curtains are blue. I like comparing people to animals occasionally for symbolism
203 words

part 2
I bared my teeth and glared at him, seething with anger. ““You don’t understand, Dante! I have to do this. Don’t you dare try and stop me,” I growled.
“Oh grow up Col!” Dante’s voice rose and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to do this. You just want glory and praise. So get it into your freaking head that I’m not going to let you do this,” he snapped, his hazel eyes now sharply on mine like a hawk’s eyes.
I balled my fist and glared at him. My vision was a little blurry from tears but I wouldn’t let him see. “You’re a coward, Dante.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, voice dangerously quiet but I kept going.
“Yeah,” I snapped, dangerously close to tears. “You’re just a coward. You and all the other Sentinels! The angels gave us a gift! Why aren’t we using it to protect more people?” I demanded. “Because everyone here is a coward after our defeat in Florida. But I’m sick of just watching the entrances and waiting to stop the war. The war’s already begun! Demons are everywhere! And they always have been and we could do something about it! Innocent people are dying everywhere, Dante! Who cares if some of us die?” I could see two things in his eyes. The first was my own eyes, reflected back and looking a little crazed or perhaps passionate was the better word. The second thing I saw was those flecks of pale gold that only showed up when he was getting really angry. Good. I was sick of Dante being all high and mighty, working hard to be titled Lionheart. I wanted to break him. The glowing in his eyes got brighter and brighter but I kept looking with a small, triumphant smirk, my eyes narrowed. Then with a scream he summoned a gust of wind to knock me backward.
I landed with an oof on my back, the wind knocked out of me.
“You know the story, Col! We lost one quarter of all Sentinels in North America in the Florida disaster!” he screamed at me, voice raw with pain. “My parents died in the Florida disaster!” From my position on the ground, I could see he was blinking back tears. “So shut the heck up. Y-you and your dumb need to be the savior. You’re my best friend Malcolm, I can’t let you do this.”
My voice softened, though I too was fighting back tears, “So come with me Dante,” I begged, voice straining because I knew I was seconds away from sobbing like a baby. “I need this. I need to be needed. I need to be a hero. I’m so sick of everyone treating me like a bomb waiting to go off just because of what David did. I’m so sick of everyone only knowing me as his twin! I can be a hero, Dante!” As I broke down into sobs, he wrapped his arms around me.
502 words

part 3
Regret… regret is a fun thing. Not really. Regret I think often goes hand in hand with guilt. Typically I find guilt is for something you did, but regret is for something you didn’t. Now of course, guilt and regret too, though not as much, have many different forms. When talking about the physical effects, regret might make a character’s chest hurt, they might feel dizzy. Too cold, or too hot maybe. And in their head maybe it will feel a little fuzzy, or like colors aren’t fully saturated. To tie in with that, dull colors could represent regret as well.
101 words


I looked around the empty room with nothing but some long forgotten trash found only when they took the couch away. The walls were bare but I could still see the marks from where Grandmother had hung her paintings. I tried to remember them in my head but all I could remember were some blurs of color, just like all I remembered of my grandmother was a blur. The walls were a faded pink reminding me of a love that could have been, but all my life everything had moved so quickly and I never had time to visit Grandmother. Cobwebs filled the corners and spiders scurried on the walls. We never realized how like those spiders we were, scurrying from place to place and never knowing when a shoe would end your life. Or when a stroke would. I stared at the place on the wall where I remembered she’d had a portrait of me. I used to stare at it constantly and I had it committed to memory now. Why had I spent so much time caring about myself? Why hadn’t I been a better granddaughter, spent as much time with her as I could have? My head was spinning as I tried to make sense of things. Was I sad? Was I angry? If so, was I angry with myself or for the world for constantly throwing my things my way so I never got to see her? I could barely remember her. Did we bake cookies together? Did she teach me how to knit? I swallowed a lump of sadness in my throat and broke down into tears. Chime went my phone and I reached into my pocket numbly to mute it. Who cared if it was an important message, as most of them were? I’d clearly been wrong in the past about what was important, and now I would live my whole life regretting never really getting to know my grandmother. I traced the toe of my shoe through the dust that had settled on the floor that I barely remembered ever running across as a child to hug my grandmother and get a piece of candy. I left eventually because I still had work and two children at home that I loved with all my heart and needed to take care of, but as I walked to the bus stop, everything seemed a little fuzzy and the colors seemed a little faded. Pigeons perched on the wires, staring down at me. Too late, too late, they seemed to say. As I boarded the bus, I made a mental note to take my kids to visit their grandparents. But first I was going to go home and hold my kids and I was going to tell them I was sorry I was away at work so much, because I realize now, how much it hurts when you realize too late what someone or something meant to to you and I do not want them to grow up thinking they mean nothing to me. I watched the rain through the bus window and chose not to think about the worse alternative.
525 words

part 4 (so the side characters do express some different emotions but for saoirse it is anger, sadness, and pain. For the scene itself mainly in the descriptions and setting, it is happy, tranquil, a little euphoric.)

Saoirse lay on the grass, squinting up at the sun and listening to the constant chirping of the birds. A butterfly landed on her and she shooed it away, rapidly blinking back tears. “Saoirse, please,” Ollie begged, voice straining and breaking a little. He knelt next to her and reached for her hand which she jerked away. “No!” She stood up. “No Ollie, I’ve given you too many chances and every single time you still find a way to hurt me.” He shook his head earnestly. “No please, I I didn’t realize how much the contest meant to you.” “That’s because you never listen,” she snapped. “Now get out of my yard.” She walked past him to climb onto the roof, the breeze gently rippling through her hair. Everything felt so beautiful up here, so calm, so right. The summer sun reflected down on the pool that she could see in her neighbor’s yard. She smiled slightly as she heard the shouts of, “marco!” “polo!” but the smile was short lived as Ollie climbed up the ladder to join her. “Go away. Look around look at everything! It’s bright and sunny and we were supposed to enjoy it! It was all going so well being boyfriend and girlfriend,” she snapped. “But you had to ruin it!” she bared her teeth in frustration. “I hate you Ollie! You constantly ignored me and everything I said, but no,” she tugged at her hair. “No, I had to go in fall in l*ve with those puppy dog eyes and those dimples.” she retched.
He trembled a little and rubbed his wrist. “I didn’t realize-I mean- I just, Saoirse, I l*ve you. I was a jerk but please, forgive me.”
She turned away. “Save it for somebody who cares. Now get out of my yard or I’ll call the police,” she growled. Saoirse stayed on the roof a while, taking photos of the sky, watching as the sun started to set and listening to the high pitched drones of frogs and crickets as they came out for the summer night. A sound perhaps reminiscent to many who ever camped in the summer, but Saoirse plugged her ears and shouted at the top of her lungs, “I hate you Oliver Mossworth! I hate you Oliver Mossworth!” she shouted until tears streamed down her face and her voice could no longer form another word.
The days passed, all pleasant weather, children playing, but no parties, neighbors walked their dogs past the house sometimes, and fireflies lit up the sky each night while children chased, giggling and shouting out in glee. Saoirse glared at all of it from her spot on the front porch. “Why can’t it be quiet like it was earlier?” she huffed to no one. She threw a pebble at a tree and blinked back white hot tears.
“This is why you should have listened to me,” her sister Lia sneered. “I told you Mossworth’s were nothing but trouble.” She curled her lip. “You deserve what you got.”
Rage swelled in Saoirse and she drew back her fist to punch Lia, but she knew that was all her sister wanted. Constantly trying to goad her into a fight so she would get in trouble. “Just get away from me,” she muttered.
“I told you not to be so dumb, but you just can’t listen,” Lia said, checking under her fingernails as if she had no real cares in the world. Everyone seemed like that this summer, so why couldn’t Saoirse? Summer was the time of not caring but all she could do right now was care and blink back tears of anger and pain. It really was a beautiful evening and the world seemed to be at peace, listening to soft tranquil hums of frogs, cicadas, and crickets. Saoirse watched it all with trembling hands balling into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her breaths were short and rapid and turned into choked sobs. “Why does it seem like the only one in pain right now?” she shouted to the empty sky since Lia was gone. “When did the world get the memo to stop hurting for a little while? Where’s my memo?” Tears streamed down her face, making everything seem a little like a painting by Monet.
718 words

daily march 23!!

old writing: Obscured by paint dripped in front of your eyes, you see: Glowing red all around you, sparks dance in the air. The scent of burning things still clogs your nose, all you can taste is the smoke and it stings your throat. It stings your eyes but you keep them open. In the hazy blur around you, you see the remains of the church. Once white and pristine, now it is burnt black and dilapidated. People around you are shouting incoherently and you hear the sound of water splashed down on the burning church. Orange and red fingers creep up the church’s walls, ever hungry, ever consuming. The water splashes down and an angry hissing arises. The flames shrink down but the damage has already been done. You hear the siren of the firetruck and firefighters shouting orders. They take some people away who have passed out and hurry to get them help. But you know it’s too late for some. You’re only a little statue, but the church goers saved you instead of themselves and if you could cry, you would.
(this was a daily from july idr what it was lol)

added:
In the years that passed, centuries really, all that remained was the crumbling, ivy covered stones that had once been statues, surrounded by the scars left on the earth to remind the world of the church that had burned for all the ashes had blown away. Of course, the world did not remember. Whatever had burned down the church, for that death was long forgotten by the vultures, it had burnt down nearly everything else nearby. Only a few years ago had life started to return to it, and with that life came deaths that the vultures could tell the stories of. The humans are gone now, they don’t see much worth in a plot of land that they deemed cursed, perhaps touched by the devil, incapable of ever sustaining life again. A young vulture flew down to the place where the rescued statue had stood. “The soul and story may still live on,” he murmured to his brethren. “But let us read these bones as we always do and remember her story.”
Far, far, far away the statue missed the white walls of the church and those charming little wood carvings of angels the school children had made for the priest. They had been roughly carved and very uneven. One could not stand and had to lay down, but they were his family and that church was his home. Centuries later, spending each day trapped in this museum with artwork he did not know and he still had not forgotten the church. To many it was now just a pile of ashes scattered in the wind, but a home would never be as simple as a place or a building. Still he smiled, for that was all he could do. A soft gentle smile and it brought him a small ounce of relief that perhaps at the very least he brought comfort to these people just as he once had at the church.

March 23rd daily :3 (318 words of continuing a old bad story hehehe)

I grinned, anticipation building up inside of me. This was like that secret agent video game that I played when I was younger. “What time do we meet up to go to the Core?” I asked Fern, who pursed her lips, thinking. “How about nine o’clock?” We fist bump. It’s a deal.
The night couldn’t come soon enough, and I watched the newsfeeds with Fern in her house since she has access to the more top-secret ones because of her mom. There were carefully planned attacks and shutdowns all day, and when nine finally rolled around I rushed outside to meet her, grabbing my LazerBlades and pulling them on as I stepped outside. Fern was late. I waited impatiently three minutes before she stepped outside, already wearing her LazerBlades and a blue backpack. Without a word to each other, we set off. It only took up four minutes to get there, but it seemed like an eternity. I watched as Fern punched in a series of access codes and then we were in the Core. It was… different then I’d been expecting. I’d been expecting lots of exposed wires and glowing blue cords that ran across the walls, and people bustling around, calling orders in a computer-y gibberish. But no. It looked like just another corridor, and it was eerily silent. I glanced at Fern. “Is it normal for it to be this quiet?” She shushes me and shakes her head no. The two of us journey deeper into the Core, and still, there is no sound. Finally, I begin to hear something–the whirring noises of computers and clicks and bleeps and some other sounds that I couldn’t place. The noises were coming from just around the corner, and I sped up, eager to see real-life Core workers, but before I could get there Fern grabs my wrist and pulls me into a door that she’d just unlocked.

Weekly 4
Current save code: 74272

Part One
342 words

Character 1 - Ayana

Ayana is a fun-loving girl who is always organized. She wants to keep a healthy balance between solving mysteries and her school life. When she realizes that someone is stealing mangoes from her family’s mango farm, she immediately decides to find who the thief is. She fits into the traditional stereotype that states that she is very smart. She’s top of her class and enjoys math, which makes crime solving seem like a piece of cake to her. She subverts the stereotype that she is a type of detective- in fact, she’s never been involved with any crime at all and doesn’t know what to do when she learns about the thief.

Character 2 - Elise

Elise is Ayana’s classmate who is a suspect of the mango crime but turns into Ayana’s sidekick. She loves mangoes as much as Ayana, and also enjoys baking. She spends most of her free time baking or cooking pastries and desserts. She fits the archetype that states that the suspects act suspicious. Elise is actually very self-conscious of her baking, which made Ayana think that she was hiding something. She doesn’t fit the archetype that states that the sidekicks usually are friends with the hero. Elise is a little mad at Ayana for accusing her of such a heinous crime, and the two of them don’t have the best friendship in the world.

Character 3 - Garrett

Garrett is a worker at the mango farm and is another suspect. Security camera footage at the farm shows him going to work as usual, but the camera footage doesn’t show him doing anything suspicious. Garrett says that he is an innocent man who hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary, but Ayana and Elise won’t believe him. After all, he is the only worker at the farm other than Ayana’s family. He fits the archetype that states the suspects are hiding secrets of their own, since he actually saw the thief, but doesn’t want to tell anyone since he recognized the thief’s face. He doesn’t fit the archetype that states that the suspect did something suspicious.

Part Two
151 words

It was Tuesday morning when Aunt Lisa went to the mango farm and found more than half of the trees barren, all of the ripe mangoes from the previous day gone. In despair, she called the rest of the family, who were enraged, but they couldn’t do anything… could they?

Ayana, the youngest of her family, decides to take action and find the thief on her own. There were so many suspects. Her classmates, who knew all about the farm and their ripe mangoes. Garrett, a worker who was always happy but seemed to be a bit strange the past few days. Gloria, a journalist who worked for a big company and had visited the mango farm for an interview.

In a case like this, everyone seems to be suspicious, but Ayana will find the culprit and won’t stop going after them until she solves the mystery of the Missing Mangoes.

Part Three
353 words

The first day of the investigation was simple. Ayana headed to school as per usual, then casually asked each one of her classmates about the mango farm. Everyone seemed to be normal, stating that the last time they went there was ages ago- when they went there on a field trip to see how farms work. The only person who was out of the ordinary was Elise.

It was after school when Ayana found Elise alone in the hallways. Their conversation was normal until Ayana started to ask Elise more serious questions like “Have you been involved with a crime?” or “Just tell me everything you did in the past few days, alright?”

This wasn’t a good thing for Elise, who was starting to get nervous. She started to stutter and try to find a way out of the conversation, which Ayana took as a sign that Elise was up to something. She glared at her and said, “If you’re hiding something, spit it out already.” Elise nervously said, “Well, I-I sometimes… well… I bake things and post it online. I know it’s weird but I don’t care.”

Ayana face reddened. This whole time she was accusing this girl for a crime she didn’t commit. She apologized, “I’m sorry. I thought you stole mangoes from the mango farm and I- well, I wanted to you admit the fact that you stole them. Can you forgive me?”

Elise was silent for a few moments, seemingly deep in thought.

“Sure, but on one condition.” Elise replied. Ayana asked, “What is it?”

“You have to let me help you solve crime. I love mysteries and this one seems interesting.” Ayana sighed as the agreed to Elise’s demand, the two of them going out of school to find clues.

—══════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ═══════—

The next day, Elise went to the farm to help Ayana search through video footage. They found everyone working like they should’ve, but then they noticed Garrett, a worker, calling someone, then grinning. This happened multiple times over the past few days, and even though it wasn’t very suspicious, the duo decided to go ask Garrett about it.

fan fic entry (see bottom for notes)

fandom: miraculous ladybug

the title is ‘hashtag slay-coeur’ in LOWERCASE for texting aesthetic purposes you get it mhm
____________________________

Nathalie could hear echoing footsteps as she sat on the side of her bed. Tired, hungry, and bored, she needed a break. A break from Gabriel’s shenanigans. Preferably until the day he got over it. For Adrien’s sake.
A friendly knock hit the door, interrupting her thoughts, but in a good way. Gabriel never knocked.
“Yes?” Nathalie clapped her hands, turning on the lights as she smiled at the sight of the door opening from someone who didn’t have an ugly face, ugly height, ugly smile, ugly personality– she was going on a tangent.
“Hello, Nathalie!”
“Adrien, why hello. Do you need anything? Some help with your homework?”
“Oh, not at all Nathalie. I wouldn’t want you to do even more work.”
With a perplexed look, Nathalie made some space for him to sit on the bed. “Then what?”
Adrien sat down and looked into Nathalie’s eyes. “Well, you know what Instagram is, right?”
“Mhm. Your father’s brand has one, for posting teasers of the new lines and such. What about it?”
“Well, remember my friend Marinette?”
“Yes, I do Adrien. The pretty and creative one.” After Adrien had confided in her about Marinette, she was determined not to let his controlling father get in the way of his love. He could be a monster, and if he knew, she was sure he’d manipulate his feelings.
“Yeah, very pretty. Very creative too,” Adrien said, looking dreamily at the wall, his eyes settling on the picture of Nathalie and Gabriel during their explorer days. Nathalie stifled a little giggle, not noticing where his eyes were staring, before returning to her stoic demeanor.
“What about her?”
“Well, this isn’t really about her, but her friend Luka’s dad is Jagged Stone. And Luka and her asked him about his old friends and he mentioned you. He said you and his assistant and him were really close at one point.”
“Ah yes, I do remember Penny and him. Some of the best days of my life.” Nathalie also knew about Luka. And Rose and Juleka and Ivan. Secretly, she was a big fan of Kitty Section– their songs were her most listened to on Spotify–she had a playlist dedicated to them, in fact. It reminded her of her dreams of being a rockstar with a pet unicorn. Their debut was almost an allusion to her youth.
Adrien smiled. He loved seeing Nathalie happy.
“Well, he and Penny wanted to get back in touch with you, but you work a lot so that’s kinda hard.”
Nathalie sighed. It was true, she worked plenty. Sometimes she wished she could have a pleasant time, but after the argument with Mr. Agreste, it was much harder for her. Her one true goal had been destroyed. All she could do was be there for Adrien’s sake.
“What are you planning, Adrien?”
“Welllllllll, I was wondering if you wanted to make an account!”
Nathalie froze up. “Adrien, it’s very sweet of you to care so much, but I’m not sure if Instagram is the place for me. I’m sure I could find them on Linkedin or something. You really don’t need to put in so much effort.”
“Aww, but Nathalie, Jagged told me he knew you were gonna say that, and he told me to tell you he won’t have it. That Linkedin ‘is not rock and roll’.”
Nathalie nodded. “Alright.”
Adrien came a little closer to Nathalie, and picked up her phone. “Please, Nathalie?”
With a sigh, Nathalie nodded. “If you’d like it that much Adrien, then of course.” The corners of her mouth went up as she watched Adrien furiously search ‘Instagram’ on the App Store. How he’d figured out her password, she didn’t know, but decided not to think too much of it.
After the app loaded on her phone, Adrien handed her phone back to her.
“Okay Nathalie, now you need to think of a username.”
Nathalie closed her eyes for a second. “How about… ‘Nathalie_Sancoeur’?”
Adrien shook his head profusely. “I’m sorry Nathalie, but… that’s not all that creative.”
“Do you have any suggestions then, Adrien?” Nathalie gave him back her phone. She trusted him. She watched as he thought for a minute, his eyebrows scrunching, and his chin quivering vigorously. It was as if his face was dancing to its own tune.
“Do you have anything you would like in your username, Nathalie?”
“It’s up to you, Adrien. Although, I would prefer it if it didn’t have the word ‘queen’ in it.” Nathalie shuddered at the thought.
“It’s up to you, Adrien. Although, I would prefer it if it didn’t have the word ‘queen’ in it.” Nathalie shuddered at the thought.
“So something a little bit… not… sparkly?”
“Mhm.”
The two shared a mutual grin as Adrien pondered the username. Something simple, but not too business-y. Adrien’s face lit up as he quickly typed in the username vigorously before he forgot it.
“How about ‘slay-coeur’?”
“It’s your choice, Adrien.” Nathalie found it a little (okay, maybe more than that) hilarious, and let out a chuckle or two. Nino had taught Adrien a lot of new vocabulary. Even though Mr. Agreste didn’t think Nino was a good influence, Nathalie thought Adrien should be able to hang out with who he wants. Anyways, Nino helped Adrien to be less uptight. More chill. Kinda like Emilie to her.
Once he filled out the rest of the information, Adrien clicked the ‘Sign up’ button and handed the phone right back to Nathalie, the same exchange they had done for possibly the hundredth time.
“Okay Nathalie, now you have an Instagram!”
“Absolutely wonderful, Adrien. Now, what’s your account?”
“It’s ‘adrienagrestebrand’, Nathalie. Let me follow you as well.” Adrien took his phone out of his pocket and searched Nathalie’s username. The two followed each other, before Adrien’s face lit up once more.
“Okay Nathalie, would you like me to show you Jagged and Penny’s accounts?”
Nathalie nodded, but Adrien was already searching their accounts on Nathalie’s phone. He clicked the ‘follow’ buttons with pure joy, before handing the phone back to Nathalie.
“Oh, and Nathalie, would you like father's account?”
“Sure, why not,” Nathalie mumbled, but really, she was hatching a plan.
“His account is quite boring, in all honesty. All he does is post pictures of the line and me and… sometimes you. That’s the nice part. You won’t tell him I said that, will you?”
“Of course not, Adrien. However, I will need to speak about my pictures.” Nathalie was secretly a little amused by the idea of Gabriel adding her pictures to his entourage of posts. Vexed, but amused.
“And Nathalie, would it be bold of me to ask…” Adrien stuttered on, his words stuck at the bottom of his throat.
“Speak, Adrien. I won’t be upset.”
“Can I add ‘#Gabenath’ to my ‘Introducing Nathalie’ post? I know it may seem a little… erm…”
Nathalie raised her hand. “Say no more, Adrien. We can take it in a… friends context. Your father is too half-witted in these matters to understand, if you know what I’m implying.” After the time travel episode in their adventures, Nathalie thought Gabriel was, at slightest, an idiot. But, ever since Adrien had opened up to Nathalie about Marinette, he’d been a lot more comfortable in speaking his mind. Even about his shipping. Nathalie found it humorous and played along, although… They both realized Nathalie was quite * with Gabriel. Adrien was aware, and chose to let her get comfortable. He knew this was all his father. Yet Nathalie couldn’t help but feel the ever growing pains of heartbreak.
Adrien jumped in joy (respectfully, of course), and added in the hashtag. Nathalie promptly liked the post, and commented with a simple ‘:thumbs up:’.
“Thank you, Adrien. It’s been a while since I’ve done something this fun.”
“I’m happy I got to do this with you, Nathalie.”
The two shared a warm hug before Adrien got up to leave. Nathalie waved goodbye as Adrien opened the dark chestnut colored door.
“Oh, Nathalie, before I go–”
“Yes, Adrien?”
He took a deep breath as he looked at Nathalie’s bluebell eyes.
“Nathalie, you’re really important to me. Helping you make an Instagram account is the least I can do for you. It’s no effort at all, and if there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know. I know I might not be able to do anything about your illness, but I want to be there for you.”
Nathalie smiled. “Thank you, Adrien. I too will be there for you, no matter what.” This time she hoped that her loyalties wouldn’t change as they had with him.
Adrien waved once more with a look of warmth, and closed the door. And Nathalie took a deep breath, ready to make her life anew. But before that, she needed to dislike Gabriel’s post about croquettes. And fashion. And herself. She’d possibly spare Adrien’s cinnamon roll face though.

____________________________

1453 words
this was really fun to write lol
i believe i got the headcanon that nathalie was friends with penny from some fan art i saw, but i decided to add jagged in their because i needed marinette :,)

i'm REALLY happy i decided to enter this instead of my mushy gabenath stuff because like.
no
i may have snuck my ship in but its ok its fine its fine

i love seeing nathalie and adrien's relationship grow ❤❤

March 24, 2023

Lizzy looked around aimlessly, trying to piece together what could’ve happened to cause the shipwreck. The ship wasn’t bad looking. If it hadn’t been extremely old, broken, and smelled of rusted metal, it probably would have been very nice. The walls, which used to be painted a baby blue color, were peeling off. Lizzy wasn’t sure what the room they were currently investigating, but she suspected that it was some sort of bedroom because of all the journals and notes lying around.

Lizzy tentatively sat on the ground, trying to pick a spot that wasn’t incredibly rusted and covered in dead bugs or plants. That was when she noticed a thick leather journal nestled into the corner. Lizzy grabbed it and opened it curiously. The first entry was titled: February 12, 2001. The ship must have been at least 20 years old.

Today marks the third day we’ve been stuck in this ship. The captain says that help should be coming any day now. I’m not so sure. We’ve been attempting to send out messages, but it’s been no use. I’ve been getting really bored. There’s only so much one can do on a cruise ship.

The captain is feigning optimism. It’s kind of pathetic because everyone already knows that it’s kind of a lost cause. At this point we’re just hoping someone will realize that we’re lost.

Our engine is running out. We’re losing supplies and power. The captain and crew told us that the ship was equipped with enough resources to last a month without landing in a harbor. His words probably would’ve been more effective if we didn’t already know that was a lie. Literally 2 days ago a crew member on the intercom said that we would be making a pit stop at a nearby island because we were low on supplies. At this point, people have just stopped listening to the captain.

He acts like everything is okay, but in reality it isn’t. Of course, everyone is panicking. Emma spends all day every day on the decks, trying to get people’s attention. I choose to stay inside where it’s cool. If someone finds us, they find us. If they don’t, they don’t. There are a lot of people trying to grasp onto this idea that everything will be okay. I don’t believe fate will be very kind to us.

Today the captain told us that a rescue ship would be arriving in 2 hours. It’s been almost 13 hours now. When we asked him about it, he turned a horrendous shade of pink and quickly changed the subject. I still can’t fathom how he got his job.

I’ll be trying to write everyday, though I’m not sure if anyone will end up reading this.

Lizzy closed the book, not really sure if she should be laughing at the situation or sad. How did the ship end up breaking in the first place? Lizzy had a lot of questions. She wondered if it was the fault of the incompetent captain.

“Hey guys,” Lizzy said. “I found this notebook in the corner. It belonged to one of the passengers on the ship. Apparently something happened that prevented the ship from moving, making everyone stranded. I’m not exactly sure how the ship stopped moving though.”

“Maybe the journal has some more information,” Inky said. “Information on what happened, and on how we can get out.”

567 words

Happily Ever After
Writing Competition Entry
1,550 words
Stranger Things Fanfiction
Fanfic tropes used are established relationship and canon divergent
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Author's Note (not counted towards word total): I originally wrote this during SWC July 2022 for a weekly but rewrote it during the first cabin wars of SWC March 2023 and have since then edited it and added onto it a bit. This takes place after season 5 of Stranger Things, although we don't know what happens in it yet, but this takes place about 10-15 years after season 5. Enjoy!
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“Oh my oh my, what if I mess up or something! What if I trip? What if I make a fool of myself?” Jane panicked to her dad, Hopper.

“El, you'll be okay, I know it,” Hopper comforted his daughter. He pulled her in for a hug, being careful not to smudge her makeup. Jane didn't like all the makeup or hairspray or fanciness that was going into her wedding with Mike, but she tolerated it. It was her big day! Her family and Mike's had spent so much money on this so she had to go through with it.

“Ack! Okay, okay. I got this. I can do it,” Jane told herself, shaking out her hands. At that moment, Nancy rushes into Jane's room.

“Hey! It's time.” Nancy grabs Jane's hands after seeing her shaking them out. “Hey,” she said softly. “You got this. I know you do. You and my brother belong together- we've all been cheering for you since you were just kids!” Jane smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. I got this!” She took a deep breath before looking up at Hopper. “Ready?” Hopper nods and holds out his arm. Jane takes it and starts towards the door. Nancy hurries to open it. Music starts to play from the organ and the bride begins to walk down the aisle. She puts on a smile, gazing around at all of the couple's friends and family. Mike stood in a pressed suit, smiling at Jane when the two made eye contact. At that moment, all of her worries vanished instantly. She gazed into the eyes of the man she loved. She'd met him so long ago on a dark, rainy night. And even if she hadn't known it all those years ago, Mike and Jane were destined to be together.

She tuned out the whole ceremony, saying her vows and spending the whole time looking into her future husband's eyes. And then it was time for the kiss.

Mike pulled Jane in by her waist, leaned down, and kissed her. The audience started to clap and it was a magical moment.

The two dance the night away, their love pulsing and spreading all over the room.

…three years later…

Jane bit her lip, a stick in her hand. Lately, she'd been feeling nauseous and dizzy, and she'd also missed her periods. She blamed it on the stress of her job, but she went to the store and bought a pregnancy test. And when she tested, it had two lines. She had gasped in excitement and fear, but before she told Mike, she went and saw her doctor. Her doctor had done an ultrasound. The gel on her belly was cold and wet. And then she knew that she was pregnant. She raced home to tell Mike, the test in hand. He wasn't home yet, so she sat on the couch and waited.

When Mike stepped through the door, he hollered “Honey, I'm hoooome!” as he usually did.

“I'm up here on the couch!” Jane shouted back. This was it. This was the moment. Mike's footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and Jane shivered, shaking out her hands. This was the moment. This was it.

“Hey there, darling,” Mike said, kissing Jane's forehead.

“I-I have something I need to tell you, Mike,” she stuttered. Mike squatted down, staring into Jane's eyes. “I-I'm pregnant,” she said, showing the test. Mike's eyes widened with shock and excitement. “I went to the doctor this morning. And it's confirmed.”

“Oh my gosh! I'm so- this is amazing!” he exclaimed. Mike picked up Jane and spun her around. Jane shrieked, beaming. Mike stopped and pulled her in for a hug. “I'm so excited. We're going to have a family!”

…six months later…

Jane shrieked in pain and agony. “Oh gosh oh gosh! This hurts!”

“Just one more push, come on, Jane, you can do it!” Mike told his wife. Sweat was pooling all around Jane. Giving birth was rather hard. “Yes, yes! That's it!” WIth one final shriek and one final push, a baby fell into the nurse's arms.

“Ah good job, Mrs. Wheeler! You've given birth to a very pretty and healthy baby girl!” the nurse said, quickly wiping off the baby and wrapping her in a blanket. The baby whined and cried. “Shh, shh. Here you go- here's your mommy, dear.” The nurse handed the baby to Jane who held her daughter in her arms for the first time. She immediately felt a connection and love for her daughter.

“Hi! Hi,” she breathed. “Hi, baby. I'm your mommy. Mike! Mike, come see her!” Jane laughed, crying tears of joy and love. The tears dripped down her face and mixed with the sweat that was pooling around her, being absorbed into the paper-y sheet on her bed.

“She-she's beautiful,” Mike whispered. He looked at Jane and Jane looked at him. “Are we going to name her…?” he trailed off. Jane smiled.

“Yes. Her name is Maxine.”

…fifteen years later…

Jane sat at the dining room table, sipping her coffee. It was burning hot, like the rage she was currently feeling. The couple had been married for 18 years now. It was their anniversary tomorrow. Jane hated to do this, but it had to be done. She wanted to be with a man she could trust. One who wouldn't cheat on her and have affairs.

Mike walked in the door, hollering “Honey, I'm home!”

Here goes… Jane thought. “Hey, come here,” she said coldly.

Mike did so with a confused look on his face. “What's wrong, darling?” He leaned in for a kiss but Jane pulled away.

“I… I know where you were last night. I know you were with Erica! And I know you've been with her for the past five years.” She slammed her hands on the table and stood up. “If you don't want to be with me, just say so, darn it! Don't run around behind my back. I know what you've been doing. Nancy told me. You lie to me every single day and it's like you don't care!” Mike tried to get a word in but was quickly shushed. “No! I don't want to hear it! You know what I want? A divorce!” Mike's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“W-what? I never did any of that!” he stammered. Another lie.

“I have pictures! I have proof of you doing things with Erica!”

“I have never done that in my life!”

“Friends don't lie!” Jane screamed. “Friends don't freaking lie! Now get out of my house- out!” Mike scrambled to get his things and left. Jane collapsed in her chair, sobbing.

…three months later…

“And with that, the divorce is settled. Legal guardianship of Miss Maxine Nancy Wheeler goes to Mr. Michael Wheeler,” the judge said and banged his gavel.

Jane sat down in her chair, tears rolling down her cheeks. Nancy came and hugged her. “Shh, shh. He's a jerk, he doesn't deserve Maxine. You do. You do. You're better than him,” Nancy comforted Jane.

Jane walked out of the courthouse, her head hung in shame. She wasn't even allowed to say goodbye to her daughter. She didn't know if she'd ever see Max again. She resented Mike. She hated him. Memories of the two flashed in her head. The first time they met, saving Will, their first kiss, the Snow Ball, defeating Vecna, their wedding day, Maxine's birth.

And it all meant nothing to Mike.

…ten years later…

“Jane El Hopper was a beloved mother to Maxine and daughter to Jim. She was well loved by many and she will be well missed. She died too soon and she will always be remembered.”

Jane's coffin is lowered into the ground as the wedding officiator finishes his speech. Maxine approaches her dad who'd been lingering at the back of the audience the entire time, watching it all from a distance, not sure if he was welcome or not.

“What the heck are you doing here?” Maxine hissed at Mike. Mike blinks and staggers, taking a step away from his daughter.

“I'm watching the funeral, of course,” he replies calmly. Maxine balled her hands into fists, starting to grow angry.

“Get out. Just- go. You aren't welcome here; you ruined our family!” Maxine starts to cry, her eyes filling with tears, running down her face and falling to the ground.

Drop.
Drop.
Drop.

Mike tries to reason with Maxine but it's not happening. Her voice loudens, now yelling and sobbing.

“Get out! Go! Leave us!” she shouts, tears still running down her face. When Mike doesn't move, Maxine reaches up and slaps him. Mike's cheek burns with pain and embarrassment, and he backs away, leaving. “Go! You ruined this family! I hate you!” Maxine screams.

The words are still ringing in Mike's ears as he scrambles into his car and drives away.

…thirty years later…

A much older- not so much wiser- Mike hobbles up the hill where he last stood thirty years ago when his daughter had slapped him. Kneeling at Jane's grave, he places a single rose on it.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “You were right. Friends don't lie. And I did. I let you down. I'm so very sorry. I l-love you, Jane. I love you.”

03/24 daily–421 words <3
(italic stuff is flashbacks to that morning)
My feet pound on the ground, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. A burning pain is starting in my side and I stumble over rocks and everything else on the ground. But I keep running, because I know they’re behind me. And they won’t stop until they catch me.

It had been a beautiful morning, the sun rising, streaks of vibrant colors painting the sky. I had eaten french toast for breakfast and then headed outside where my great dane, Tempest, was running terrified from a chicken. He put some distance between him and the fowl before turning around to bark at it. Dumb dog.

I snap out of my flashback of the blissful morning when I trip, falling toward the ground too fast. Foolishly I thrust my hands out to catch myself, my palms scrape on the ground and I hear my left wrist snap, pain flooding my senses.

“Tempest!” I called with a laugh, and he looks up at me for a second before resuming his barking. The chicken, whose name was Nuggets, pecked at the ground, unimpressed. “Tempest come here,” I said again, still laughing. He didn’t come until Nuggets moved closer to him, then he ran yelping to me as Nuggets resumed her chase. For such a big dog, he was the real chicken.

I was stumbling through the dark, every move causing pain to spike up my wrist. I was considerably slower now, and I could hear them behind me, gaining on me. I wouldn’t be able to outrun them. I was going to die.

This happened every morning. Nuggets would chase Tempest, Tempest would cover behind me. Then I would feed him and he would be happy. I opened the fridge and saw that the only fresh meat was chicken. I shut the door. I did not eat chicken–I loved the ones I owned too much. And Tempest was afraid of eating chicken. Anything chicken related terrified him, even a feather. Nuggets, apparently, was scary. And dominating. Tempest, when not showing fear over his poultry overlord, showed dominance. I had gotten him to heard the chickens. Instead, the chickens herded him.

The footsteps approached and a new adrenaline rush was spurred by a gunshot. I dodged some very large rocks and ducked into the forest. Now that there were so many more things to trip on, I slowed my pace. But I could hear them behind me, gaining. The hope of escaping them that I’d held onto slowly faded as the footsteps came closer…