Critique for Alia :)

General comments
Heya Alia, I love this short piece! There were a couple of suggestions I made about this, but overall everything felt very atmospheric – somber but increasingly hopeful. All of the characters were fleshed out decently in such a short span, and the pacing was nice and steady too. The description is impactful, and the dialogue really realistic. Overall, great work



Syntax/Clarity

It reverberates beneath her bones, deep under the stones of the wall she toils on.

It sounds a bit like the second phrase is describing “her bones” so maybe place it at the beginning?

“They tried, Persephone. They failed. She belongs here now.”

I'm guessing that “they” are Orpheus and Eurydice? (also I really like how poetic this line sounds heh)

"And what about the world above?
{…}
And Persephone returns to the world above,

It's a bit repetitive for “the world above” to be used twice but that's just my opinion aha

But he can't hear her, of course, and Eurydice clutches at herself and tries to keep herself together.

The sentence structure is a bit clunky in this hmm

“This is no lie. Go, before you are trapped once more. The train will be running tonight. Leave, and you can find him.”

“Tricks,” she says. "Conditions and lies. I know his traps.“

Persephone rolls her eyes. ”Child, don't you want to be free? Run, now, as fast as you can. He's been waiting for you this whole time, whether he knows it or not."

It's a bit confusing (especially in the second paragraph) about whether “him” is Orpheus or Hades, since they're both mentioned in the previous paragraph. Maybe clarify a bit?



Stylistic stuff

Persephone rolls her eyes.
{…}
“Gods, these kids,” she groans.

I honestly think that these two sentences break the solemnity of the scene? I don't know if it's just Persephone's personality, but the writing is kind of too informal with regards to the situation.

Orpheus may be gone, but his music is still heard.

He laments for his love, and his despair is felt across the world

It is sorrow, yes, but it is also guilt. And he sings, and the world wilts with him.

Lots of personal preferences here, but I think at least two of the sentences should be the same paragraph? I guess it's because they all convey a similar message (Orpheus's pain + the world).
And there's a tad too many conjunctions, in my opinion, and that also adds to the repetitiveness – maybe try combining some of the phrases to reduce them?

When Hades goes to get Persephone

I'm not a huge fan of “goes to get” ^^' maybe something like “retrieves” could work instead?




Favorite parts!

Eurydice wrenches her mind away from his voice.

Awesome use of the verb here, it's so powerful!

Hades watches the stones of his wall fall. He watches his people rally around Eurydice. He watches the ground tremble with Orpheus' song, and he breaks once more under the spell of his music.

***

When Hades goes to get Persephone the next year, he holds her in his arms and says, “Tell Eurydice, love, that she can leave. If she can find Orpheus, she will be free.”

Persephone's eyes flare with hope. “Truly?”

Hades nods, and Persephone remembers why she fell in love with this imperfect god of shadow.

Even without as much context I think this is a very effective look into Hades's character (and Persephone's too), great job!

“Miss him-” Eurydice gasps. That's not worth answering.

Wow that last sentence :0 I don't exactly why but I love it!

MC Daily 3/19 (Personifying Abstract Concept)

344 words

I am Separation, present in every minute aspect of you clingy humans' lives.

Most things I deal with are fairly mundane, and in actuality not limited to human interactions. Just earlier last week I visited organic chemistry students in their lab, where they were separating… 4-bromoaniline and 4-chlorobenzoic acid, wasn't it? Admittedly some of them were a bit clumsy-handed, but I was obliged to hover close by until they got one component rotovapped and the other filtered out.

Of course, I can’t answer the demands of… 8 billion people (oh, how could I forget, the world doesn’t only have 7 billion anymore) and 197 million square miles (or 510 square kilometers for you metric folks) of the earth’s miscellaneous changes. Not alone, at least. So omnipresence and duplications are the way to go. In the end, I don’t need as much conscious knowledge as I need to get my job done.

(For in the end I answer to the members of the Higher Council: Fate and Luck and Consequence. They observe, they decide. From the wide expanses of infinites down to the very last subatomic particle. I don’t envy any of their jobs.)

I'm also present in more important parts of life and lack thereof (you wouldn’t call tectonic plates alive, would you?). Including the ones that people have existential crises about. Don’t know what I mean? Let me give you this example then: Death, for one, is a good friend of mine. Oh yes, we chat over lovely sandwiches and jasmine tea during sunny afternoons, out of the one in approximately a trillion days that we have off. But really, what is time to us anyways?

The departure of the loved one. That would be in my jurisdiction as well, whether I collaborate with Death or not. So I have to nudge these people apart, listen to their pitiful words and thoughts resound through space.

There you have it. Now, I must get back to my work now. Pretty sure a couple dozen people are expecting me to reaffirm the hydrophobia of oil.

MC Bidaily #2 (3/20-3/21)

Original
The history of the Boiling Isles was marked by many great events: ursurption and rebellion, manipulation and freedom, division and unity. Much of these events occurred during the more recent years of my fairly long life.
A tale does not need to be grandiose to be memorable. And my first day as Principal of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics was anything but grand. For Titan’s sake, half of the school was on fire by nightfall – hardly a sane person’s definition of grandeur. Ahh, so many words I can make with grand.
Then again, the children at the school are not quite sane either.


Edalyn Clawthorne (or Eda, as she'd very much prefer), strolled leisurely on the road to school. Besides her was Raine Whispers, humming a bright little tune to carry all of their books afloat. Bard magic certainly had its perks; even something as simple as a whistle can work wonders.
“Yawn,” Eda yawned.
“A daily reminder that you are the only witch/demon I know who does that,” Raine remarked.
Eda’s only reply was a smug grin, and she romped on ahead. “Ahh, I love that Faust lets us get away with everything now,” she said contently. “Ever since the HECK event we’ve been late EVERY SINGLE DAY and he doesn’t care at all.”
“Eh, I don’t think it’s gonna last,” Raine pointed out.
“Pffft. I bet he talks to Terra, like, every day. They seem to know each other well, and that’s why he haven’t gotten tired of me yet, haha.”

As per usual, the courtyard of the school was empty when the two teens arrived. However, unlike usual, the door was devoid of flames.
“Huh. Is Fausty not here?” Eda asked Raine, who could only give a confused shrug in reply. The two of them made their way up the stairs, until-
“Ah, there you are!”
Eda blinked. Oh, it was Vice Principal Bump.
“We have an assembly starting in, uh,” – he checked his watch – “five minutes.”


“Say, where’dya think Fausty went?” Eda asked to no one in particular.
“I think he died,” Alador said seriously, and the squad nodded. It was totally possible. Every day Faust seemed closer to getting a heart attack – maybe something they did last week was the tipping point. (Personally, Alador staked his bets on Eda and Lilith’s Grudgby ball chomping the late principal’s horns off.)
“I think he ditched us for Terra Snapdragon… they both hate children so much!”
“Good one, Rainestorm,” Eda snickered.
“And I think he’s retired because he’s sick of your shenanigans ‘round here,” Lilith grumbled.
Eda gave her a light shove. “Eh, don’t act like you’re such a goody two-shoes. Remember who helped me make sapient abominations? Fun times.”
“It was mostly just you, Edalyn,” she fired back. “Darius and Alador too.” Then she conceded: “But I do think that you all deserve some credit, because that kind of abomination magic doesn’t happen every day.”
“That’s the spirit!” Raine said.


“She texted me last night. Apparently she had a dentist’s appointment." Alador checked Penstagram swiftly before closing it once again. Faust had once locked up a student in the attic for having their scroll out in the hallway. (“Scrolls will make this generation’s youth rot.”)
“Good,” everyone chorus viciously.

They was secretly sure that Darius only relented because of Alador’s involvement in the matter.


“Good morning, students of Hexside,” Bump announced, obviously expecting some applause. Instead, everyone just stared up at him.
“Where’s Faust?” a voice piped up.
Murmurs sprang up among the gathered students while Bump wilted ever so slightly.
“WOOHOO, Vice Princi B!” Eda’s voice punctured the silence, and the rest of the squad joined in hyping up the (vice?) principal.
“


“… you shouldn't let her boss you around.”
“Alright, Dare.”
“‘Sup?” Eda slid towards them. “Aladork, you look absolutely miserable!”
“I guess,” Alador said with a shrug.
“I never get why you two are still friends with Odalia,”


“Here, whistle in this real quick,” Eda practically shoved the potion into Raine’s face.
They whistled gently on the potion, and it shimmered briefly before turning a vivid amber
“Ha, it worked! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this until now,” Eda exclaimed. “You’re so cool, Rainestorm! Honestly, I dont get why we aren’t allowed to use mixed magic. We can do so many cool things with it!”
“I think we already have,” Raine laughed. Yep, with Perry being in oracle and Darius and Alador being in abominations, the group was already conjuring more schemes than Eda could’ve ever dreamed of.
Granted, Potions was cool and nifty when her teachers didn’t boss her around too much. But she hated when good old Fausty screamed at her for every time she used “abhorrent wild magic”

A couple of classes passed, and then came lunch. The squad filed into the cafeteria, handing the .
Eda munched on some diced mangoes as she stared at Adrian Graye through narrowed eyes. Last week he stole Lily’s lunch money, and it was not a fun business. (Well, okay, working on the sentient abominations was fun, not the theft part. Eda only liked theft when she was doing the stealing.)
Thankfully, Adrian Goofy Graye seemed to have no interest in pulling a stunt like that again. When he caught her eye he immediately hunched down, tufted tail lashing.
Eda turned back to the table, where Perry was rambling about the true nature giraffes to Raine (“They have three sets of jaws!”) and Lilith was speeding through her flashcards as usual (“Emperor 24 came to power Belos years ago. Wait…”), while Darius and Alador messed around with tiny abominations (“No, Al, don’t eat it!”)

“Arson!”

“We are the poster children of gremlins-hidden-under-prim-demeanors!” Raine exclaimed, gesturing to themselves, Lilith, and Darius.
“Hah, I don’t think so,” Darius answered with a smirk. “You’re a horrible actor when we’re helping Eda. Always the one to get caught.”
Raine fumed silently.
Eda nudged her sister, who was rolling her eyes. “Oh, Lily, you’re in soooo much denial.”


“You start from the right angle,” Darius insisted.
“The side corner! I thought you were my friend, Darius,” Lilith hissed.
“
“Actually, I think you should start from the middle-”
A collective gasp of abhorrence sprang up among the kids sitting at the bench, while Alador simply looked puzzled at the reaction.
“No one in their right mind would start from the MIDDLE. What, you want a bunch of baloney getting on your whole face?” Perry all but screeched.
“Al, this is such a you thing to say,” Darius sighed, not looking surprised.
“Anyways. By popular opinion, we start from the side-” Eda took a bite. “What now?”

“Keep going straight-”
“Funny you would say that,” Raine sighed. “I don’t think you’re straight. Or Eda, for that matter.”
“I’m not talking about us here, I’m talking about the sandwich!”
“Oh, so the sandwich is straight?”
“Actually, that sandwich does look straight to me,” Perry mused.
Eda took the suggestion and continued. Now one side of the sandwich looked like tongs. Or crab claws. Seriously, Bump, you need to find better comparisons. Thank you Edalyn, I’m trying!
Back to the story.


Bump gawked at the mess that was going on. Half of the time, Faust had commanded him to do paperwork in a cramped office, so he didn’t get many chances to know the students. Much of the said paperwork was about Eda’s manifestations of her chaotic inner self; he’d assumed these were exaggerations at best.
But now?
“Hey, Princi B! What’s the best way to eat this sandwich?” Eda screeched at him through the smoke, as she waved a half-eaten sandwich around.
It was a nightmare come to life.


“By this point, I've accepted my life in crime,” Perry said brightly.
“Yep, you’ve got it, buddy! Arson, vandalism, making people vomit, and jaywalking.”

“Alright, Edalyn, we are going to have a very stern talk,” Bump said with the ultimate sternness someone like him could muster. Which Eda found unimpressive and frankly pathetic. But eh, he’s Princi B after all, so she refrained from snarking with him as much as she had done with Faust.



“Well, well, Edalyn Middlename Clawthorne,” Raine said. “What a day.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we got out of there before Bump made everyone clean up. Perry and the Abominerds aren’t doing super well though.”
“And neither is Lilith,” they replied with a laugh.

Silence fell between the two of them as they thought over what had happened during the day.

“Too bad tomorrow will be normal again,” Eda sighed. “With Odalia coming back and all.”
“Well, every day is fun with you,”




And that concludes my first day as Principal of Hexside School of Chaos and Demonics. Don’t bother correcting me. I couldn’t tell you if it would be more preferable to paperwork, if I’d prefer unhinged anarchy to the monotone mundane.
Eda and her gang were a wild bunch.
But looking at their children and the Boiling Isles of today, I think all’s well ends well.




Revised
The history of the Boiling Isles was marked by many great events: manipulation and ursurption, freedom and rebellion, division and camaraderie. Much of these events occurred during the more recent years of my fairly long life.
Yet a memorable tale does not need to be grand, and my first day as Principal of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics was anything but. For Titan’s sake, half of the school was on fire by nightfall – hardly a sane person’s definition of grandeur.
Then again, the children at the school are not quite sane either.



Edalyn Clawthorne (or Eda, as she'd very much prefer), strolled leisurely on the road to school. Besides her was Raine Whispers, humming a bright little tune to carry all of their books afloat. Bard magic certainly had its perks; even something as simple as a whistle can work wonders.
“Yawn,” Eda yawned.
“A daily reminder that you are the only witch/demon I know who does that,” Raine remarked.
Eda’s only reply was a smug grin, and she romped on ahead. “Ahh, I love that Princi Faust lets us get away with everything now,” she said contently. “Ever since the event we’ve been late EVERY SINGLE DAY and he doesn’t care at all.”
“Eh, I don’t think it’s gonna last,” they pointed out.
“Pffft. Terra Snapdragon’s a Head Witch. If she’s in our favor, nothing Fausty can do about it.”
So the two of them continued on, admiring the skies of the Boiling Isles.

As per usual, the courtyard of the school was empty when the two teens arrived. However, unlike usual, the door was devoid of flames.
“Huh. Is Fausty not here?” Eda asked Raine, who could only give a confused shrug in reply. The two of them made their way up the stairs, until-
“Ah, there you are!”
Eda blinked. Oh, it was Vice Principal Bump.
“We have an assembly starting in, uh,” – he checked his watch – “five minutes.”


“Say, where’dya think Fausty went?” Eda asked to no one in particular.
“I think he died,” Alador said seriously, and the squad nodded. It was totally possible. Every day Faust seemed closer to getting a heart attack – maybe something they did last week was the tipping point. (Personally, Alador staked his bets on Eda and Lilith’s Grudgby ball chomping the late principal’s horns off.)
“I think he ditched us for Terra Snapdragon… they both hate children so much!”
“Good one, Rainestorm,” Eda snickered.
“And I think he’s retired because he’s sick of your shenanigans ‘round here,” Lilith grumbled.
Eda gave her a light shove. “Eh, Lily, don’t act like you’re such a goody two-shoes. Remember who helped me make sapient abominations? Fun times.”
“It was mostly just you, Edalyn,” she fired back. “Darius and Alador too.” Then she conceded: “But I do think that you all deserve some credit, because that kind of abomination magic doesn’t happen every day.”
“That’s the spirit!” Raine said.


“… you shouldn't let her boss you around.”
“Alright, Dare.”
“‘Sup?” Eda slid towards them. “Aladork, you look absolutely miserable!”
“I guess,” Alador said with a shrug.
“I never get why you two are still friends with Odalia,” Lilith brought up casually. “Speaking of which, where is she?”
“She texted me last night. Apparently she has a dentist’s appointment." Alador checked Penstagram swiftly before closing it once again. Faust had once locked up a student in the attic for having their scroll out in the hallway. (“Scrolls will make this generation’s youth rot.”)
“Good,” everyone chorused viciously.


They was secretly sure that Darius only relented because of Alador’s involvement in the matter.


“Good morning, students of Hexside,” Bump announced, obviously expecting some applause. Instead, everyone just stared up at him.
“Where’s Faust?” a curious voice piped up. More murmurs sprang up among the gathered students while Bump wilted ever so slightly.
But just then, someone came to his support.
“WOOHOO, Vice Princi B!” Eda’s voice punctured the hubbub, and the rest of the squad joined in hyping up the vice principal.
“Our favorite vice principal!!”


(A/N from Prin. Bump: I do NOT condone this behavior!)


“Here, whistle in this real quick,” Eda shoved the potion flask practically right into Raine’s face. They whistled gently on the liquid, and it shimmered briefly before turning a vivid amber
“Ha, it worked! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this until now,” Eda exclaimed. “Honestly, I dont get why we aren’t allowed to use mixed magic. We can do so many cool things with it!”
“I think we already have,” Raine laughed. Yep, with Perry being in oracle and Darius and Alador being in abominations, the group was already conjuring more schemes than Eda could’ve ever dreamed of.
Granted, Potions was cool and nifty when her teachers didn’t boss her around too much. But she hated when good ole Fausty screamed at her for every time she used “abhorrent wild magic” so she worked twice as hard to annoy him.

A couple of classes passed, and then came lunch. The squad filed into the cafeteria, handing the 5-armed lunch lady a fistful of dollars.
Eda sat down munched on some diced mangoes as she stared at Adrian Graye through narrowed eyes. Last week he stole Lily’s lunch money, and it was not a fun business. (Well, okay, working on the sentient abominations was fun, not the theft part. Eda only liked theft when she was doing the stealing.)
Thankfully, Adrian Goofy Graye seemed to have no interest in pulling a stunt like that again. When he caught her eye he immediately hunched down, tufted tail lashing.
Eda turned back to the table, where Perry was rambling about the true nature of giraffes to Raine (“They have three sets of jaws!”) and Lilith was speeding through her flashcards as usual (“Emperor 24 came to power Belos years ago. Wait…”), while Darius and Alador messed around with tiny abominations (“No, Al, don’t eat it!”)

“Arson!”


“You start from the big corner,” Darius insisted.
“The side corner! I thought you were my friend, Darius,” Lilith hissed. As Eda knew, she was quite passionate on the topic of sandwiches.
“There’s NOTHING PERSONAL here, Lilith, I swear!”
Alador tipped his head. “Actually, I think you should start from the middle-”
A collective gasp of abhorrence sprang up among the kids sitting at the bench, while he simply looked puzzled at the reaction.
“No one in their right mind would start from the MIDDLE. What, you want a bunch of baloney getting on your whole face?” Perry all but screeched.
“Al, this is such a you thing to say,” Darius sighed, not looking surprised.
“Anyways. By popular opinion, we start from the side-” Eda took a bite. “What now?”
“Keep going straight-”
“Funny you would say that,” Raine sighed. “I don’t think you’re straight. Or Eda, for that matter.”
“I’m not talking about us here, I’m talking about the sandwich!”
“Oh, so the sandwich is straight?”
“Actually, that sandwich does give straight vibes to me,” Perry mused.
Eda took the suggestion and continued. Now one side of the sandwich looked like tongs. Or crab claws. (Seriously, Bump, you need to find better comparisons.) (Thank you Edalyn, I’m trying!)
Okay, okay, back to the story.


Bump gawked at the mess that was going on. His average day used to consist of 8 hours of paper in a cramped office (courtesy of Faust), so he didn’t get many chances to know the students. Much of the said paperwork was about Eda’s manifestations of her chaotic inner self; he’d assumed these were exaggerations at best.
But now?
“Hey, Princi B! How do I eat this sandwich?” Eda screeched at him through the smoke, as she waved a half-eaten sandwich around.
It was a nightmare come to life!

“Alright, Edalyn, we are going to have a very stern talk,” Bump said with the ultimate sternness someone like him could muster. Which Eda found unimpressive and frankly pathetic. But eh, he’s Princi B after all, so she refrained from snarking with him as much as she had done with Faust.


“Well, well, Edalyn Middlename Clawthorne,” Raine said. “What a day.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we got out of there before Bump made everyone clean up. Perry and the Abominerds aren’t doing super well though.”
“And neither is Lilith,” they replied with a laugh.

Silence fell between the two of them as they muled over all the events of the day.

“Too bad tomorrow will be normal again,” Eda sighed. “Princi B’s gonna do whatever he’s gonna do, Odalia’s coming back.”
“Well, every day is fun with you,” Raine said, smiling.
I guess it would be a tad cliche to have them walk off into the sunset, but that’s what they did, so that’s on you if you hate it.


And that concludes my first day as Principal of Hexside School of Chaos and Demonics. Don’t bother correcting me. I couldn’t tell you if it would be more preferable to paperwork, if I’d prefer unhinged anarchy to the monotone mundane.
Eda and her gang were a wild bunch.
But looking at their children and the Boiling Isles of today, I think all’s well ends well.








Reflection
So, for my editing, I mainly focused on patching up the individual islands of writing and connecting them! The two aspects from the workshop I also paid attention to were general word choice & sentence flow, and also dialogue. My work relies a lot more on slice-of-life elements and character interactions, so plot and theme and description were all lower priority for me.

Weekly 3
PART ONE: Brainstorming Emotions

This is pretty rambly. 249 words!

Emotions. Ahh. They’re kind of wacky, in my opinion.

Emotion would be the antithesis of logic/ration, but at the same time there are portions of both categories that can go well together. Because isn’t it logical to acknowledge the existence of emotion? Can’t emotion be very effective when used in conjunction with logic?

In writing, I personally try to convey emotions through impressionistic description. A lot of provocative adjectives (although I’d admit I’m still falling victim to the trap of using too many adverbs), metaphors… and also personification of emotions. I think another one of my strengths in this respect is.using sentence structures for emphasis. And italics! Formatting tactics like these is really helpful.

But to be honest, I struggle with the human aspect of emotions, which is rather disappointing since humans are where emotions emerge. I guess it’s my lack of ability to retain memories of experiencing emotions?

Anyways! Word choice and pacing are good methods of conveying emotions and its nuances. After all, emotions are only general concepts, monoliths of smaller ideas that can be broken down into finer details.

SONGS. Songs are amazing inspo for emotions too. I also just love standing outside and writing, it’s really atmospheric that way.

And that concludes my extremely messy ramble, now for the next two parts!

(I pretty much never do weeklies in order haha but maybe I will this time? Actually I’ll do Part 3 first because I have a better idea of what to write)





PART TWO: Emotions in Character

TLLH and TOH crossover :00000
327 words

“You don’t understand, Otto. I have to do this. Don’t you dare try and stop me.” Hans clutched the jagged dagger tightly as he stepped forward, eyes blazing with fury.

“There is nothing to not understand,” Otto countered, holding his ground. He understood perfectly well, actually – Hans was in for the riches that the Demon Realm could bring, was terrified of the lies that the witch hunters spread.

But did it really have to come down to this? Once they were brothers, by all but blood. They had grown up with each other, suffered through depression and rise, accompanied each other in every tragedy that the world sent.

“Don’t you see what scum they are? These are witches, dangerous witches.”

“Put that dagger down.”

Hans’s resolve wavered for a brief moment, betrayed by his widening eyes. Perhaps he was thinking something very much like what Otto was: it doesn’t have to come down to this.

“Please, Hansi.”

A pause hung in the air, daring someone to disturb it.

“No.”

Some fragile spirit in Otto shattered as he heard this reply.

“I don’t want to see anyone ruined by this place, especially not you.”

“What are you going to do, then? Kill me?” Otto’s voice took on a shaky sarcasm. It was rare for him, and it thinly concealed his desperation.

Once again there was that look of uncertainty. “Don’t be lured by their wicked ways. You can go back right now, and I’ll finish the job, and we can- we can go home happy.”

“That’s not true. I can’t let you hurt innocent people! You’re just spitting propaganda now, just like all the way back when the party first came along.”

“This. Is. Different. They’re not human, they have these horrible powers that can kill people. Why won’t you understand?”

In response, Otto pulled out his own dagger. It was what he had to do. For the witches, for Jeanne. “Don’t you dare do anything to them.”






PART THREE: Emotions in Prose

Brainstorming - 67 words
The emotion I got from Zaine’s generator was “vibrant”

Vibrant → the vividness of life
How life is something to be treasured. To live without regrets. The feeling that life is full of unexplored wonders, that each day is the start of a grand new adventure. To be unafraid of what comes tomorrow, because there is an unshakable spirit residing within.
Face the world. Watch its beauties.

Writing - 451 words.
(I used an asyndeton and a zeugma! The metaphors were the banners and the beacons part, and the setting was pretty thoroughly described in the first paragraph.)

The sun breaks through the thick clouds, coating the rustling shore in a plate of gold and the shimmering sea in silver. The crew has just passed through the storm, and now the light peeks out, basking nearby clouds in a heavenly glow. A salty breeze brushes by the iron-plated deck of the ship, and seagulls cry out from the distant coast.

Madeline Strigid leans lightly over the deck, takes a deep breath, and feels the spirit of the sea settle within her: it dives, leaps, soars, conquers.

A life in the Shore Guard may seem like a bore to some, but Officer Strigid never regards it as such. It’s a delicate balance between serene and eventful, in any case: hunts for lawbreakers and picnics on the hills happening on the same day is just the usual.

“Nice weather we’re having,” a voice says from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

“Morning to you too, Cal,” she replies, gazing fondly at her second-in-command and lifelong friend.

Officer Calidris strode up the deck and handed her a map. “Here you go. Don’t drop it in the water again!”

“I won’t,” she replied with a chuckle.

Strigid unfurled the map and ran her gloved fingers over the sturdy paper. There were the landmarks: headquarters, the nearby islands, the next continent over.

She feels a particular pang in her heart as her gaze falls on Tempest Cove. Countless ships and their passengers have drowned in the whirlpool off the shore, and the Guards could only return the bodies of survivors, if that at all. Lives and hope were lost to the waters, and the scars of such defeats never quite faded.

And yet…

And yet that is why the Guards exist. To prevent these very tragedies from happening. Strigid knew she carried on the prideful banners of a long lineage, of master sailors who wished to create a secure coastline.

It is not a grand flamboyant endeavor, like the pirates of old or the navy who went far out (much farther out than the Shore Guards would try to travel) to capture them. No amount of treasures awaits, no promises of glory are in store. It’s no wonder few know of the Guards’ existence.

There is an appeal in ordinary life for each and every member. Still, there is something more to that, a hidden nobleness to their act.

For the Guards are beacons of light. Illuminating the truth, guiding those who were lost on the water. Flawed, certainly, but in the end they’ve done the best they could on these rugged coasts.

So they will continue, with Strigid at their head, to brave the tempests of their everyday life.

“Alright, let’s head to port.”


PART FOUR: Bringing It All Together

Prose emotion: nostalgia
Dialogue emotion: disappointment
(yes this will be TOH fanfic again) (also it's crazily rushed and disorganized alsdkjf)
736 words

It was a quaint quiet day during fall, and the Hexsquad were sitting in the Owl House. Weak sunlight filtered in through the windows, lighting up gray speckles of dust.

Amity, Luz, Hunter, Willow, and Gus were sitting on the cold floorboards, gazing down at the game of Glandus War that they were playing.

“Oh, not that game,” Eda sighed as she passed. "I haven't seen anyone with the cards for so long, until you all.”

The children turned to her with various expressions of anger. Did she just insult their favorite game, their latest obsession? Perhaps no one was a huge fan of Glandus High-

For Eda, her quiet words only opened floodgates. Of memories.


It all started with her curse, really. For a solid three months, she did not return to Hexside. Lilith kept quiet about everything that was going on while she finished her classes to enter the Emperor’s Coven, and Raine, to no avail, interrogated her with growing harshness about the situation.
Regardless, it was then that everything began to fall apart in their lives.

“Alador, where are you going?” Odalia snapped as she dragged her boyfriend across the campus. Darius turned away, unable to watch. And so he turned to his other best friend, Lilith, as she spoke.

“My graduation is coming early,” she said, and he was surprised by the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Though it was expected, given her mood recently, he thought that at least she’d be excited by the prospect of the Emperor’s Coven, would she not?



Darius shifted ever so slightly.

“Why are you like this? What happened to the other Lilith?”

Lilith turned her eyes to his. Green to green. “I was a fool.”



Some days Raine would take Scooter Crane’s place in the castle, although rarely in Coven Head meetings. When this did happen, they found themselves caught in Darius's pondering gaze, or Lilith's turbulent expression.

Then Lilith was exiled, and the Golden Guard took over. Raine was finally initiated as the Head Witch when Scooter Crane left with a fond farewell letter.


On the balcony of the CATs’ headquarters, three witches lounged under a dusky sky, watching the Latissa lights flicker. The citizens, the children, the gentle hubbub of approaching night. A reminder of what was at stake.

(A reminder of the three's own pasts.)

“Darius, Raine, I- I wanted to tell you something.”

They tipped their heads towards her in curiosity.

“I’m sorry. I’ve lost so many years to the Emperor’s Coven, and I know that there’s no way I can make it up to you. To Eda.”

Silence.

“You were my friends. I don’t know if that could happen ever again, but I wanted-”

“I understand, Lilith.”

This could very well be the end of life on the Boiling Isles. If their plan failed, if Belos won. This would be the end of everything they knew and loved and treasured.

Still.

“I do, really. You were a good friend to me once, and I do know that we can’t have that truly like the way we used to.”

That was the way childhood and adulthood worked. You had friends, loved ones, you drift away from them. You betray them. You forget them. BEcuase sometimes the past was that difficult to hold on to, and there was nothing to do about it.

But sometimes they would wonder. Think back to the sunlit glades of the past, the blissful days in Hexside where all the students had to worry about was the next exam or the latest Grudby team tryouts. That was it. Why couldn’t they have that again?

“I couldn’t bring myself to face Eda, either,” Raine confessed quietly. “But she’s brave. She’s braver that I knew. I think we both made mistakes, but it’s never too late, is it?”

“It’s not?” Lilith asked increduously. She would have thought that it was far too late, that they were all adults well into their fourties, that if their lives ended right there with them they could do absolutely nothing about it. It was what she had been repeating to herself all this time too, and so she took no action. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it wasn’t.


The sky was dark. Of course. It was night, wasn’t it?

“I failed you. I’ll do more.”

Alador Blight turned away from the window and back to his inventions.

“I promise.”

MC Daily 3/28-3/29 (Atmosphere)

Individual portion - 216 words

Phoenix’s Roost was quite the small bustling town. Every morning, with the call of the roosters, a stampede ran through the unpaved roads: cowhands and gold miners would rush out to the open fields for a day of long work, stirring up golden dust in their wake.

Even when they were gone, the town’s hubbub in the main square did not cease: merchants pawned their wares, farmers sold their fruits and vegetables, and various small businesses offered their services to the townfolk uninvolved with the intense outdoor labors.

The schoolhouse would be open in the hours of the bright morning as well as much of the afternoon, with the young students lounging outside of the building during their break time.

Meanwhile, the sheriff’s headquarters was abuzz with whirring minds and plan after plan to capture criminals.

Stray cats and dogs bounded on the roads, crouched on porches, and nestled inside barrels. Railroads ran outside of town, and it was not an uncommon sight to see a train speeding gaily further west.

The workers returned in the evening, when all of their families were comfortably settled in their homes. A game of cards, a calm drink, the occasional brawl in the wilder places of town – all were conducted under the chirping of crickets in the night breeze.

Comparison - 175 words
Here's Jango's side!

I did this prompt with Jango, and our atmospheres were significantly different! Mine described a place that was alive and vibrant, while Jango’s description was a distinctively abandoned ghost town.

So, naturally, the upbeat mood of my writing was a very sharp contrast to the somber one in Jango’s piece. The style approaches we took were different as well: I settled for fast-paced description chock full of action, while my partner’s description was more impressionistic and slow-paced.

In addition (and this is similar to what I mentioned about style), I focused more on the solid human aspects of the town: what the people did, the man-made aspects (buildings and railroads) of the land, etc. On the other hand, Jango focused more on the natural surroundings (the desert) and the figurative spirits that resided inside the town.

One last small thing to note: I stated the town’s name at the beginning of the piece, while my partner stated theirs at the end. I’m not really sure what to make of this difference, but it’s certainly interesting!

Weekly 4

So, this is essentially gonna be a big crossover soup of all of my OCs from two years ago to now! Heh.

Activity One - Characters!

Hayden Hartski, “Detective”

115 words

Lieutenant Hayden Hartski is a spunky young Air Force officer, who also happens to be George Patton’s biggest fan. (They had met on a Hawaiian beach some time ago, and the lieutenant never forgot the incident.) Although he’s poised to be the “detective” of the story, he doesn’t have a single clue about what he’s doing! Most of the time he just likes to sit around and watch chess videos on his phone. (He doesn’t actually know how to play, but he sure thinks he can!) While he lacks intelligence and rational reasoning, or any sense of organization, his undying determination and sheer force of will can get him through every obstacle he encounters, right?

Gilbert Mason, “Helper”

103 words

Meanwhile, Dr. Gilbert Mason is Lieutenant Hartski’s older and wiser companion. Mason is a surgeon who also happens to be nursing an interest in time traveling. Crazy stuff. In any case, Mason does much of the brainwork for Hayden, but he really isn’t as invested in the case to be the main character, so that’s why the title would go to Hartski. However, the case would be absolute nothingness without Mason’s help, so he deserves a good deal of credit for directing Hayden’s crazy enthusiasm in the right direction. And maybe good old Gilbert wants something for himself out of it, too. Hmm.


Rowen Hartski, “Suspect”

115 words

Another character floating around is Professor Rowen Hartski, who is Lieutenant Hartski’s cousin and an acquaintance of Mason’s. They teach at a research institute in Brazil, but had agreed to travel to the States to solve their cousin’s mystery. The professor genuinely wants to help Hayden with his mystery, but both he and Mason suspect Rowen, which isn’t going to turn out well. They’re quite reserved, which may be the cause of the suspicion towards them, but Hayden’s childish nature doesn’t exactly help. Rowen didn’t trek countless times through the Amazon forest for nothing, though, so they’d prove to their cousin that they were not the suspect and find the real culprit in the crime.


Activity Two - Suspenseful Event

159 words

Someone stole Hayden’s Patton souvenirs! The Anti-Swearing rock, the carved wood figure of Willie, and the signed coconut milk bottle – they were all gone from the locked glass cabinet in Hayden’s room. Only Rowen has the keys to the cabinet (aside from Hayden himself, of course). And there was no evidence of them being taken.

But what no one knows is that Simon and Selena, dispatched by their goofy dad, got the souvenirs to try to send to Rowen (who was unaware of this scheme) (but everyone thought that they’d take better care of the souvenirs, both in terms of cleanliness and interactions). The two children managed to get Hayden’s key during a visit and returned it soon afterward. Dr. Mason happens to be aware of this, but refrained from telling Hayden, who was getting rather possessive of the souvenirs and unwilling to share them with people (and being perfectly okay with letting them collect dust on the shelves).



Activity Three - Clues

363 words

Lieutenant Hayden Hartski woke up to a feeling of something gone wrong. Sure, his food tastes perfectly fine and his house was just like it was when he saw it last, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something had gone wrong.

It wasn't until he glanced up at the glass cabinets that he realized. His souvenirs!!

You see, Hartski had flown George S. Patton over the Pacific Ocean a while ago. (This story is set in modern-ish times, but dead people are alive and there's no cohesive temporal model to go by. Just deal with it, dear reader.) Hartski had greatly looked up to him, and still does, so Patton gave him some souvenirs! They weren't souvenirs to Patton, but they sure were to Hartski, and so he kept them locked in a glass cabinet in the living room.

But they were gone now. The Anti-Swearing Rock, a wooden figure of Patton’s dog Willie, the signed coconut bottle that Patton had tossed to Hartski right before they said goodbye to each other: these, among others, were all gone.

Hartski, like a good and loyal fan, carefully examined the cabinet wondering who could have possibly broken in. Last night, he did have a lot of visitors over to celebrate his coming home. Hmm. It had to be one of them! He didn’t want to think of the other alternative, which was someone breaking in during the night as he slept. He was too lazy to add on to his already expansive suspect list.

Only Hartski’s cousin, Rowen Hartski, had the other key. (From this moment on, our clueless MC and his cousin will both be referred to by their first names to avoid confusion.) Did that mean that Rowen was involved in this? But then Hayden realized that Rowen was all the way in Brazil teaching at the National Institute of Amazonian Research. (They couldn’t make the celebration, much to both his and their disappointment.)

Hmm, what about his own key? Hayden lept upstairs to look for it, but just found it in the usual spot, which was in the second cabinet of his room, tucked within the covers of his journal.



Activity Four - Pressure

332 words!

Well. Now the situation was sorted out, Hayden pulled out his phone. He had to get to the bottom of this! But who could he call?
He thought for a moment, then realized. He could ask Dr. Mason for help! The doctor was a good friend of Hayden’s, and he was pretty sure that Mason wasn’t involved in the theft. Probably.

Dr. Mason finally answered the call. “Hey, Den,” he greeted the lieutenant. It was a greeting that he had developed after complaining about how redundant “Hey Hayden” was, and Hayden just let him have his ways.

“Hey, Doc. Can you help me with something?”

“Sure thing. What is it? You sure sound like someone robbed your entire bank account or something.”

“No, it’s worse,” Hayden said sadly. “My merch got stolen!”

“Oh, your Patton merch!” Everyone who vaguely knew Hayden also knew this particular detail about him being a huge Patton stan.

“Yeah. The cabinet’s unlocked, and I don’t know what to do! It can literally be anyone.”

Mason sighed. “Alright. I’ll come over at the end of the day, eccause I do have an extra shift, but I’ll let you know when I get there.”

Hayden blinked as Doc Mason hung up. It was only 10 in the morning! When was “the end of the day” anyways??? So Hayden had to stay and wait until Mason gets off work.

So Hayden made the most of the time he had. He did some research about hiring a private investigator, bought some Cheetos, binged The Long Long Holiday in one sitting, played Roblox, did some pushups, and was reluctantly clearing up the mess he had made all day when Doc Mason finally knocked on the door.

“Coming!” Hayden exclaimed. Unfortunately it was just the pizza delivery guy, but Hayden accepted the yummy box nonetheless.

An hour later, when it was 7 PM and darkness was falling, there was another knock at the door.

And you’ve guessed it, it’s good old Doc Mason!!!!!



Activity Five - Witholding Information

458 words!

“Well, well, so you need my help?” Mason asked. Hayden bobbed his head and proceeded to explain the situation in detail.

“… and so the cabinet was open, and literally everything on there was gone!”

“You’ve locked your doors, right? Closed your windows and such?”

“Probably?”

The doctor gave an exasperated sigh. “I, for one, don’t think anyone came through the window. Or broken in at all, for that matter. It’s just so far-fetched! These floorboards are much too creaky for someone to not lose their nerves with, and even if you’re a heavy sleeper – which you are, but that’s besides the point – not a lot of people know that.” If Mason’s friend Turing was here – which he wasn’t, but that was besides the point – he would spit out an even more ironproof argument against Hayden’s theories. But Turing had some business to attend to, which Mason understood, as the man was a math professor and quite busy.

“Well, then, could it be Rowen? But they’re all the way in-”

“I heard they landed here a few hours back,” Mason interrupted.

“But they haven’t contacted me!” Hayden paused for a moment. “I think they’re avoiding me,” he whined, almost launching into a ramble about how he was sure that his older cousin hated him.

Mason looked up briefly from texting on his phone. “Hmm, yea, that’s possible,” he replied, then put his phone away. “Do you think he could’ve…”

“…sneakily came in here came to the party without me realizing, opened the cabinet, grabbed the loot, and stomped out? Yeah, yeah, that sounds reasonable! It’ll definitely explain why he’s been avoiding me ever since he got back, he didn’t want me to know he was plotting against me!! Honestly, that was just reverse psychology, because it’s obviously more suspicious to interact with me at all than being normal, right?”

When Mason nodded, Hayden was about to spew more theories out (he had one about how Rowen drugged his toothpaste), but he suddenly stopped.

“What if he actually has them and SOLD THEM?? What if he’s bribing me for ransom? What if Patton-”

“Calm down, I don’t think they’re going to do that,” the doctor pointed out.

He sniffled. “But if they’re ignoring me that much, I think they really really don’t want anything to do with me!”

Hayden thought of the journal that Rowen had given him by mail, just the day before, and how he’d lovingly tucked it inside the cabinet-

“Hey, wait a sec, I totally forgot about the other key! My key!”

Mason sighed and resisted the urge to facepalm. Naturally, the goofball forgot the more logical approach.

“Do you remember seeing anyone go up there?” he asked Mason, who only shrugged.

“Hmm, I don’t think anyone would be up here.” Hayden continued his musings. “WAIT, Simon and Selena! Bernard’s kids. They were in the gaming room; they could’ve come into my room.”



Activity Six - Raise the Stakes

350 words!

Just as Hayden finished speaking, the door flew open. It was Rowen!!

“Hayden!!” Rowen called out, and greeted Mason as well.

“I thought you hated me,” Hayden said in a quiet voice.

Rowen looked bemused at this statement. “What? Why? Well, I’m sure you can tell me later, because there are people out to negotiate for your Patton merch.”

Hayden and Mason both gasp at this statement. “What?”

“The Speartons family – they’re rich and they really want your merch. Also, I heard on the news that Patton got kidnapped.”

Rowen studied the two’s thunderstruck expressions. “So, what did you two want to tell me again?

It took Hayden a while to find the words. “We thought you might’ve stolen the merch at first-”

“No, I didn’t!” they protested.

“Okay, then. But the point is, we suspect that Simon and Selena came up here and took them.”

“I bet that was their father’s doing,” Mason chipped in.

“But now someone wants your merch, which is missing, and someone else kidnapped Patton,” Rowen summarized.

“Tell me more about the kidnapping!” Hayden urged.

So, Rowen shared the news of how George Smith Patton was mysteriously kidnapped in the middle of the night.

“But he’s un-kidnap-ble!” their cousin exclaimed. “Like, his house has excellent security and he’s a buff tough guy. I mean, not that I would really know anything about it. Maybe someone infiltrated and drugged him.”

“Well, whatever it is, they won’t exchange him unless a ransom is handed in,” Rowen explained. “And we only have 10 hours left before they… well, we’re not sure, but it won’t be pleasant. Thing is, not a lot of people know about this – I only got this through insider information. The Speartons. Beatrice and her family is broke, and the government isn’t willing to help out. Partly because they’re also kind of broke.”

Hayden looked more distressed by the second. “Then what can we do?”

“We can get the ransom by selling the merch to the Speartons. They’re not broke just yet, but they don’t want to be broke without getting something in the process.”



Activity Seven - Fast Pacing

Outline

103 words!

Event #1: The trio review footage of the party (that of course Hayden had neglected to mention). It was extremely blurry, however.
Event #2: So they head on to the Myers household, and Bernard reluctantly admits the truth: he didn’t like that Hayden was a hoarder and decided to teach him a lesson. However, there’s no time to dwell on that, because there’s a kidnapping to resolve!!
Event #3: The family join the trio to Speartons Lab, which they arrive at after a swift highway rush.
Event #4: Everyone gathers around as Hayden calls the goofy kidnapper and sends them the ransom money.


Scene

518 words!

“That means we can only save Patton if we turn in the ransom-”

“Which we won’t get unless we find the merch to sell,” Mason told Hayden.

“Alright, let’s see. Did you check your security cameras?” Rowen asked.

“Wait, I have security cameras?”

Rowen couldn’t help but sigh at their younger cousin’s foolishness, and Dr. Mason rather shared the sentiment. “I hope it was even on.”

Miraculously, as the three discovered, it was. Although the footage was extremely grainy, it turns out that two kids had scampered into Hayden’s room.

“It’s the best lead we’ve got, so let’s go,” Mason said as they all jumped into his car.

Soon, they arrived at the Myers family’s house. Hayden lept forward and rang the bell.

“Oh, it’s you guys,” Bernard said with a tinge of disappointment. “I guess there’s nothing to say.”

“So you enlisted your kids in this awful crime?” Hayden gasped.

“You keep hoarding your things! It’s not fair that no one else gets to properly see them,” Bernard accused.

“It’s not wrong of me to be possessive of my own stuff!” he fired back.

“Calm down,” Rowen said to the two. “You can argue about this after we rescue Patton.”

“Huh?”

As Rowen explained the situation to Bernard, Tiffany emerged with the two kids. “I would try tracing the kidnapping notice right now, but we’re short enough on time as it is, and I’m sure we can do that at Spearton Labs anyways,” she informed the others.

“There’s a kidnapping?” Simon exclaimed. Granted, he and his sister consumed too much of kid-friendly kidnapping content, so it was rather like a game to them. Mason confirmed with a nod.

“Okay, chop chop, let’s go!” Hayden called and tore out of the house, not even caring to tell Bernard to be careful loading the merch boxes onto the car.

The two cars raced swiftly on the highway to reach Spearton Labs. Every moment was precious, and half an hour sped by only too soon. They only had 8 hours left before some unfathomable, horrid fate fell upon General Patton.

Finally, they reached the Labs. Directed by a robot to a parking lot, the Hartski cousins and Dr. Mason stepped out of the car, with the Myers family hot on their trails.

“There you are,” Robert Speartons greeted, with his stepdaughter at his side.

Hayden roughly shoved his merch box at the head of the Labs, who gave a credit card in return. “Do I call them now?”

“Should we wait until we get more information?” Tiffany suggested. It was a logical move. Her reasoning was that the whole thing seemed quite suspicious – why was no one assisting in the recovery of Patton? Perhaps everyone was broke, but that shouldn’t stop them from ignoring a human casualty, and a famous one at that. Hayden and his ragtag group of friends could not have been the only ones to care. But Hayden had already started punching in the numbers.

“If he wants to squander his merch like a fool, let him,” Bernard sniffed.

Hayden hushed everyone as the call started. “Hello?”



Activity Eight - Plot Twist

Foreshadowing

104 words! (copy-pasted from above, in red)

But Turing had some business to attend to, which Mason understood, as the man was a math professor and quite busy.

Mason looked up briefly from texting on his phone.

“But he’s un-kidnap-ble!” their cousin exclaimed. “Like, his house has excellent security and he’s a buff tough guy.

Her reasoning was that the whole thing seemed quite suspicious – why was no one assisting in the recovery of Patton? Perhaps everyone was broke, but that shouldn’t stop them from ignoring a human casualty, and a famous one at that. Hayden and his ragtag group of friends could not have been the only ones to care.



Actual Writing

301 words

“Hi, please release George Patton!” Hayden wailed. “I have a card with all your dumb ransom money in it – wait, whoops, pretend you didn’t hear that – just release him already and don’t kill him! The code is -”

He was about to give the code when the voice on the other end of the receiver stopped him. “Okay, okay, this is taking it too far! We’re not trying to make anyone broke here.”

“What?” Hayden asked, dumbfounded.

“Wait, it’s the professor!” Mason gaped. (The phone was on speaker mode.)

And apparently it was on speaker mode for Turing too. “Yeah, it’s me, Gilbert,” Turing called out.

“I demand an explanation,” Tiffany said. So her suspicions were correct!

“Look above you first,” Turing instructed.

Everyone did so.

“Ooh, a helicopter!” Selena exclaimed.

She was right. A black helicopter was gliding down towards the gaggle of people hastily assembled below.

“Lieutenant Hartski, so we meet again!” George Smith Patton bellowed, his voiced carried on the buffeting winds.

“I don’t get it! I didn’t even get them the ransom!” Hayden said. This whole business was just so WACKY.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not surprised that you were brave enough to help, knowing of your character,” Patton said proudly.

“Alright, we need an explanation,” Bernard echoed his wife’s words.

“Of course,” Professor Turing said, emerging from behind Patton.

So he spilled the tea, so to speak: the whole thing was faked. Turing had sent the memo to the Speartons, and Robert confirmed this with an awkward shrug. The whole Myers-theft thing was a coincidence, however, but Patton was delighted nonetheless. Perhaps even more so.

“I don’t think it would be fair to take this from you, then,” Robert said as he handed the box back. “I never intended to do so in the first place, in actuality.”


Activity Nine - Conclusion

137 words!

“So. That’s it?” Hayden asked as he clutched his box.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Patton said approvingly.

“In my opinion, it wasn’t fair to put him through that much pressure,” Rowen said. “Though I did notice that you and Bernard had similar ideas.”

“To bully me? Yeah, for sure,” their cousin said crossly.

“Well, it would be nice if you could share the merch with others,” Patton told him. “But of course, it’s your personal possessions, so do with them as you please.”

Hayden thought for a while. “I guess you can all look at them, maybe visit from time to time,” he said to all his friends all around him. “Just maybe don’t give me a heart attack all over again?”

“You’ve got it!” Bernard brightly.

So, they all went to Hayden’s house for another pizza party. Hooray!!!

3/30 (Theoretical Cabin Intro)

199 words!

You scramble through the front doors of the looming skyscrapers, checking your phone swiftly to make sure that you won’t be late for your first day of work. Hmm, five minutes left. That should be enough to get to the 28th floor before your introduction, right?

As it is, you arrive at the room in the nick of time. You survey your new coworkers, many of them looking fresh-faced yet apprehensive. The room had perfect white walls, a shiny rectangular table, and plastic chairs. A blank TV screen stared forlornly at you from one side of the room. This place does not look comfortable at all.

“Well, hello there,” the supervisors of your company greet all of you.

“Welcome to the Non-Fi Conference Room,” one of them says with a smirk.

“We should hope that it wasn’t a wrong choice to hire so many new members to fill up the teams,” another adds.

“In any case, we’ll be holding meetings here with you for a long while now, so get going on your analyses and reports,” the last supervisor says brusquely.

They start directing you to your new offices, and you hope for the best in this new job.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Epilogue

So, our story continues :>
It looks like I'm sharing one chapter at the end of each SWC session, haha.

Part 2: Familiarity

Slowly, everyone calmed down and oriented themselves. Sarah and James greeted Henri in astonishment and joy, but the boy was his usually cheerful and unperturbed self.

More words were exchanged among everyone else, but both sides (the Robinsons and the time travelers) realized that they, for the most part, didn’t understand each other.

However, Henri was the sole exception. (Jean and Penelope spoke a smidgen of English and French, respectively, but it hardly accounted for all of the complexities that translation required.) To tell the truth, the young boy wasn't all that interested in translating, since it was a tedious task after all. So James reminded him that without that work, no one would be able to understand one another.

“Alright,” Henri sighed, already looking bored.

“Can someone tell me what the heck is going on?” Jean demanded.

“I have no idea myself,” Lily told him, and something in her voice somehow made him shut up.

“Uhm, hi!” Henri said hesitantly in French, and the Robinsons all looked towards him.

James and Sarah watched anxiously as the boy became bombarded with questions from the seven other kids, and after a while, he turned back to his friends.

“They wanna know how you got here,” Henri explained.

James’s shrug was enough for an answer.

“Lumawoo, where are we?” Cassiopeia asked.

Penelope frowned. Her pluck could only get her so far; she was utterly confused at how she ended up in a forest with a bunch of strangers when moments earlier she was eating pie in Ashton Place.

“I have no idea,” she confessed nervously, and this rather worried her siblings.

“Oh, um, hello,” Sarah said as Henri and James continued to converse with the Robinsons (to their best efforts).

“Hello there,” Penelope greeted, rather uplifted to meet a fellow English lady her age. “My name is Penelope Lumley, and these are my siblings and pupils.”

Alexander, Beowulf, and Cassiopeia waved to Sarah in turn as they were introduced.

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance,” Alexander offered with a little bow. His siblings offered similar social greetings.

“Charmed to meet you all,” Sarah replied with a smile, obviously relieved and delighted by the courtesy of Penelope and her siblings. “I’m Sarah Phillips.”

The five of them sat in silence for a moment, continuing to watch James, Henri, and the Robinsons.

“Would you happen to know where we are?” Penelope asked, though she had a feeling that the effort would be in vain. “My siblings and I were on the grounds of Ashton Place not long ago,” she added, though more to herself than anything.

Indeed, Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know where we are, either. But did you say Ashton?”

“Baby Ashton!” Cassiopeia exclaimed out of the blue.

Penelope chuckled, then turned back to Sarah. “I did. Do you happen to know the Ashtons?” It would be strange if she did, since Penelope had never seen her around the manor, though of course Sarah could have made their acquaintance elsewhere.

“My mother is familiar with an Admiral Ashton,” Sarah explained. “We’ve visited his manor once – Ashton Place, you said?”

She had scarcely finished speaking when Henri came bounding over. “The Robinsons want to talk to you guys!” he told Sarah and the Lumley siblings. “I told them we came here after eating pie!”

“Pie?” Sarah and Penelope exclaimed in unison.

“Pie! Pie!” the Incorrigible children yelled, no doubt remembering their previous excursion to get pie.

“Who are the Robinsons?” Beowulf asked in confusion.

“Robinson Crusoe!” Alexander suggested.

Ernest perked up at the mention of the name. “Yeah, it’s Robinson Crusoe!” he told the brothers. In French, but it was simple enough a phrase to understand, and Alexander beamed.

“The point is,” James cut in, “we were all eating pie!”

Sarah couldn’t help but giggle at that statement, and he let out a harrumph. “Come on, Sarah, it’s true!”

“I don’t see how pie has anything to do with us arriving here,” she returned.

“If it helps, we were also eating pie,” Beowulf offered.

“See, that proves my point!”

Meanwhile, the Robinsons were watching as the English-speaking folks argued among themselves.

“This language barrier sucks,” Marcel grumbled.

“It’s just like when Lieutenant Douglas came, but with more people!” Ernest observed. Gaston nodded, thinking about his friend.

But it was Fernand who brought up the most important point. “But I’m so confused. Where did they get here from?”

The time-travelers were too busy conversing amongst themselves to pay attention to the Robinsons. “Ahh, well, whatever,” Jean said. “What are we gonna do with them? Keep them here?


So some arrangements were made (or at least, were attempted to be made). The time-travelers would stay at the clubhouse and try to all fit in there. And the Robinsons would try to bring them provisions, whatever the seven kids could take from their families without suspicion.

“There’s lot of them,” Jean pointed out nervously. “What if we don’t have enough supplies for all of them?”

“We can find our own food in the forest!” Henri retorted.

Lily sighed. “I can show you what’s actually edible in the woods. I agree, Jean, this is going to be difficult. Seven more times than what we had to do for Lieutenant Douglas.”

Penelope glanced at the Incorrigibles, who seemed to be pretty satisfied with the situation, all things considered. They had grown up in a forest after all. Unfortunately, there would be none of Old Timothy’s sandwiches for the four of them now.

After everyone helped to set up bedding, the sun was already starting to lower in the sky.

“We’ll see what we can do to bring you some dinner,” Ernest promised, and everyone beamed after Henri translated for them.


Shortly before nightfall (it was near summer, and the sun was up for quite a while into the evening), the Robinsons returned with various foods for the time-travelers: Ernest and Colette had brought some toast, Marcel and Gaston a couple of eggs, Jean a jar of pickles, Fernand some chestnuts, and Lily some carrots topped off with wild parsley.

The group surveyed this haphazard arrangement and did their best to parcel out enough for seven people. Dietary restrictions and biases were considered, but in the end no one felt quite full.

Everyone tried their best for the next three days. But it was obviously not enough. The time-travelers conversed pleasantly with the Robinsons and each other in the beginning, but everyone’s mood began to sour due to the lack of food.

Worse, the Robinsons’ families were starting to get suspicious.

“Where are you taking that spinach?” Pierre asked Marcel skeptically one morning. The younger boy quickly made up something about bringing it to Ernest and Colette’s grandparents, and miraculously managed to get away with it, but it was rather worrying.

“I’m not sure how long we can go on like this,” Ernest said hesitantly when everyone reconvened at the clubhouse. He and Colette had also gotten into similar troubles, and they witnessed their grandparents’ confusion about the missing spinach.

“It’s not like any of us can bring them to our houses,” Jean sighed. “So I guess we’ll just try the best we can?”

Lily thought for a moment. “I’ll let my father know. He doesn’t live in or near town, so it won’t be dangerous. It’s much better than sneaking around, anyways.”

So it was decided, and the time-traveling stowaways were brought to the cottage where she lived.


“What is this?” Lily’s father, Albert, surveyed the gaggle of weary teenagers standing outside with the Robinsons and his daughter.

Lily, to the best of her ability, explained the circumstances in which the stowaways ended up in the clubhouse. “We’ve been getting them food for the past three days,” she concluded.

“So that was where the carrots had gone,” he replied good-naturedly.

Lily ducked her head. “Sorry, Papa.”

“I’m still very confused about all of this, but you all better come inside.”

The stowaways and Robinsons filed in, and the small cottage almost felt like it was going to burst.

“Can you all tell me what happened?”

“We don’t know a lot of French,” Penelope put forward with an uncertain accent.

“They don’t speak French,” Colette confirmed sadly. “Except for Henri.”

Henri squeezed through to talk to Albert. “I was eating a pie when I got here! So were James and Sarah, and Penelope and Alex and Beowulf and Cass.” He pointed at the other time-travellers as he spoke.

“And then you fell into the clubhouse?”

“Yeah! And the Robinsons were also eating pie.”

“Gooseberry pie,” Ernest put forward.

Henri nodded. “The same kind we all had!”

“So they all teleported here by eating gooseberry pie!” Jean concluded. In any other circumstances this would sound utterly ridiculous, especially coming from Jean. But there were no other better explanations.

“Don’t forget the time-travelling too,” Fernand added. After the Robinsons found that the stowaways didn’t know of the war, it didn’t take too long to realize that they were all from different centuries.

Albert did not seem surprised. In his long years of life he’d come to the conclusion that anything was possible, pie-induced teleportation and time travel inclusive. So, he didn’t offer any skepticism, only words of encouragement and an invitation to stay at his cottage if the stowaways wished to.

They didn’t quite fit, but it was nicer than staying out in the air, although that was also a nice experience.

Thus life settled with a bit more normalcy.


Simon blinked in confusion as he saw the children and Penelope vanish. Where had they gone? Have they really been teleported and whisked off on a wild adventure, as a few of his plays went? Yet in another universe, time froze as the black vortex, leaving Simon’s astounded expression intact. A similar process happened for others, too: Ben Franklin and Moses and the Lafayettes and the Parents Lumley.

How curious.

SWC thank you notes!

(will put here later)

SRC Weekly 1

- A (90) ✅
- 90 for The Last Battle
- C (80) ✅
- 12 for TLB
- 68 for Captive
- D (50) ✅
- 48 for Captive
- 10 pages for TRLT
- E (Partner activity):
- Read 20 pages of a book that starts with partner’s name: done with Alia (@—tranquility), read 21 pages of All the Light We Cannot See! ✅
- G (6 Challenges)
- Read 20 pages while eating: 20 pages of ochem textbook while eating lunch ✅
- First three sentences: “Sophie Amundsen was on her way home from school. She had been walking with Joanna. They were discussing robots.” ✅
- 10 min reading sprint: 14 pages (The Road Less Traveled) ✅
- 30 pages: 30 pages from TRLT ✅
- Generator activity: chap book for 18 min: 24 pages TRLT ✅
- Character mood board. (Werner Pfennig, also read 15 pages from ATLWCS) ✅



- H (10) (also chocolate shake)
- 10 pages of TRLT ✅

After Belos's fall, the Collector returns to the stars in hope of some wisdom.

Requested by Lax

A note that for consistency, I alternate between he/him and they/them pronouns for the Collector in every paragraph that they apply

The Collector stepped slowly into the main hall of the Archive House. Now that dawn had broken, the space was coated in a spectacular layer of gold sunlight.

Odalia – who had been hiding in some obscure corner of the House when the showdown took place – hauled the puppets into the hall, and the Hexsquad followed with the others.

The Collector had turned an awful lot of citizens.



The godly child himself was floating dejectedly, looking down at his not-toys. Ever since Luz had- not broken, died, in front of him, they had been shaken.
None of them are toys.

Then, a horrifying thought: What if I can’t turn them back? Lilith was restored a couple of hours after she first turned, but it has been months, and-

But it was, fortunately, an unfounded fear. With one star-strewn tap, the first puppet (a horned demon with beige scales, clad in an Emperor’s Coven scout uniform) was turned back to her distinctively alive self.

“Hi!” the Collector chirped. “You’re free! You can leave now!”

Their rush of relief was dampened by the demon’s scream, as she saw the mountains of puppets before her. She made a swift break for the exit.

A moment passed. “She’s running away,” the Collector said with hurt in his voice.

Amity seemed conflicted, but she sat down beside the Collector and spoke in a gentle voice: “You know, you shouldn’t expect folks to trust you so soon, after being puppets for so long.”

“I understand… I guess.” Did he really?



So they continued, restoring pile upon pile of puppets. It was tiring, to be sure, but the Collector was an immortal after all, and soon the hall was filled with the sounds of joyous reunions.

Eventually, after a couple of hours, the last citizens were descending the starry staircase that led down to the Boilding Isles. Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter had gone. So had Odalia, and Lilith and Steve. The Collector was left alone, and he left the hall too, his footsteps sounding unnaturally loud in the reverberating space.

When they got to their bedroom-planet, the Collector plopped down on his bed, looking dejectedly at King’s jarringly empty bed. Francois was propped up, looking as lonely as the Collector felt. And what right did they have to the stuffed bunny? It was King’s, not his.

Clutching the bunny, whose button eye stared plaintively up, the Collector lept onto a star and headed to the bird house.



“Come on, Collector!” his siblings called.

To the Collector, they all sounded the same: shrill mocking voices, booming down in a whirlpool of sound.

“Go play with the Titans!”

The Archivists reached out their hands, beckoning the young child to the land of mortals.

“It’ll be fun!”

At least that was right. None of them liked playing with the Collector, and he was tired of the celestial monotony of the sky.

So they set out, never to return.



When he stepped out of the house, the Collector lept onto his favorite star, and began to zoom vaguely upwards. The Titan’s finger remained stretched up, as if in a gesture of farewell.

And before they knew it, they had cleared the feathery clouds and arrived beyond the skies of the Isles.

The stars. Centuries of imprisonment had made all of them grow dull and tattered in the Collector’s memories. But as he made his way up to the land where he and his siblings once dwelled together, the bright brilliance was reawakened for him.

“Where are you?” they cried.

The sky glittered, its light growing ever more cold and shallow. The Archivists were not here.

Why?

But then it hit him. It’s obvious – they’ve all abandoned him. That was why they never bothered to look for him all of those years ago, wasn’t it? Not even when the baby Titans disappeared one by one from the Boiling Seas and the Collector was left alone to face the last Titan.



“Where are they? Did you take them?”

“It wasn’t me! I- I swear,” the Collector replied, consumed by confusion. “I don’t know where they went, but they’ll come back, right?”

“Don’t pretend that you know nothing,” the Titan growled. He roared - a voice of grief and fury.

“But it's not my fault!”

It was no use. With a searing light, the Collector’s essence was catapulted into the air, and plunged into darkness.



The Archivists only saw mortals as playthings, trifles to be toyed with. But that wasn't so for the Collector, not anymore. That final battle changed them – Luz's devastated expression haunts them as they float amidst the lonely stars.

Is that what it's like to be mortal, to be able to have everything snatched away from you in a second? And for others, immortals and semi-immortals, to witness their friends’ disappearances from the world?



“Help! Don’t leave me here!”

But only his echoes returned – who else was there to answer?



Time passes. It doesn’t hold much of a meaning for the Collector, because the stars were also immutable in a sense. But they knew that everyone else’s lives were moving on. They doesn’t know whether that was altogether comforting – it only reminded them of their loneliness.

Still, with all of his adventures – wandering the stars of the Demon Realm and coming down to explore once in a while with Francois by their side – it’s not a bad life. It certainly became more of him than anything that the In-Between Realm or Belos’s influence ever was. Sometimes he wishes that King was here, but then he remembers that they both needed some time alone to come to terms with the past.

It’s better that way, but it doesn’t stop them from missing their time with their friend.

The Collector still looks for the Archivists, sometimes, but they’re all hidden away somewhere. Maybe they were avoiding him; maybe they had disappeared just like the Titans while he lingered in the In-Between Realm. The possibility that he’ll find them is just as much as him never knowing.

One day the Collector touched down at the Owl House. There were many witches there, some of whom seemed familiar only through hazy memories of puppets. So they didn’t approach the group, only drifted quietly behind the cliff until they heard a voice.

“Collector!”

King’s delighted eyes popped over the cliff. “I’m so happy to see you again!”

“Yeah… I just wanted to visit,” he admitted nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll be staying, though.”

“That's alright,” King said, but there was a certain trace of sadness in his voice. “Well, you came at the perfect time! Luz's birthday is next week, and I was wondering if you can help with the celebration?”

The Collector thought for a moment. Luz. The human who had made such change in their worldviews. There must be something they could do for her.
They were a child of the stars after all…

“Of course.”



The vibrant stars hurtled through the inky sky, casting the cliff in spectacular lights. And a euphony of voices sprang up from the people gathered on the cliff: “Byeeeee!”

The stars faded, and darkness fell once more upon the Isles. The Collector drifted up sadly away, not quite eager to leave the Owl House again.

But there were more sights to see, questions to ponder, and a sky full of stars awaiting him. Who was he? A child. A god. He blazed beyond the laws of reality that bound mortals.

Yet they’re began maturing, learning the way of the world and stars. It has taken years; it can take many more. But maybe one day, they’d return to the Boiling Isles. To a certain Owl House that they may one day call home.

He’d start on that path soon enough.



“I think I'm not ready yet,” they confessed as the two of them locked pinkies. “But I’ll try my best.”

There was a heaviness in Luz’s smile, as if she knew more than he could understand, but she nodded. “Me too. Me too.”

Activity Sheet
(underlined for do-next, checkmark when completed, bolded when points are claimed ^^)

Music Activities
✔️ 10 points: Listen to a piece of classical music. Proof not applicable. (6/5)
✔️ 20 points: Listen to a song you’ve never heard before. Do you like it? What do you notice? Express your thoughts in any way you choose. Proof required. (6/11)
30 points: Pick two countries, or choose randomly with an online generator. Make sure they’re on different continents! Look up and listen to a piece of music from each country. Compare and contrast the music in any way you choose. Proof optional.
40 points: Everything can make sound if you use it creatively enough! Make an entirely new instrument out of household items. Proof optional.
50 points: If you have access to an instrument, spend some time practicing on it. If not, look instruments you might like to have or think you could find a way to get. Proof not applicable.
60 points: Find a piece of music making equipment (instrument, app, etc) that you haven’t used before. Don’t look up how to use it. See what you can figure out by yourself! Proof not applicable.
70 points: Pair up with another SIC-er and create some sort of musical experience in collaboration. Proof required
✔️ 80 points: Create a short playlist, about 5 songs, and post it on Scratch. You can download files and them upload them to a project, backpack them from another project to yours, or just post a list. Make sure all songs are appropriate for Scratch! Proof required. (6/11)
90 points: Try your hand at writing your own music! You can do this in any way you like. Proof required.

Art Activities
✔️ 10 points: Fill an entire page. It’s entirely up to you how you do this! Proof optional. (6/1)
✔️ 20 points: Create an artwork using something fibrous — yarn, string, fabric, an old piece of clothing. Proof required. (6/25)
30 points: Try scribble art! Scribble random lines, and see what you can make out of them! Proof optional.
40 points: Create a colour palette, or randomly generate one with an online generator. Create an artwork inspired by this colour palette. Proof required.
✔️ 50 points: Do you prefer making traditional art or digital art? If you prefer traditional art, try to draw in your traditional style with a digital art program. If you prefer digital art, try drawing in your digital style on paper! Proof required. (6/26)
✔️ 60 points: Make something out of paper. This could be origami, quilling (designs made with paper spirals), or anything you can think of. Proof required. (6/6)
✔️ 70 points: Choose a medium you don’t usually use and make something with it. Proof required. (6/5)
80 points: Make an icon creator. It can be as simple or complex as you like. Proof required.
90 points: Start on June 1, and work on an artwork you add to little by little every day of camp. This art can be anything, so long as you work on it daily. Proof required.

Writing Activities
✔️ 10 points: Set a timer for ten minutes at the most, and write the entire time. Don’t think about the story, just write. Proof optional. (6/7)
✔️ 20 points: Reflect on your day in writing. Proof not applicable (due to personal information) (6/2)
30 points: Write a short story inspired by a song or lyric. Proof required.
✔️ 40 points: Write poetry. Proof optional. (6/9)
✔️ 50 points: Look up a random word generator and generate 3-5 words. Incorporate these words into a short writing piece. Proof required. (6/9)
60 points: Write fanfiction! Proof required.
70 points: Outline a scene, or a couple scenes, and then write them. Proof required.
✔️ 80 points: Create an entirely new character and add as much detail and dynamic personality as you can. Proof required. (6/7)
90 points: Start on June 1, and write in a journal or diary every day of session. You can write as much or little as you want, in any style, as long as you do it daily. Proof not applicable (due to personal information), but please be honest about this!

Reading Activities
✔️ 10 points: Read anything you want! Proof not applicable. (6/2)
✔️ 20 points: Read something from your favourite genre. Proof not applicable.
30 points: Read something from your least favourite genre. Proof not applicable.
✔️ 40 points: Ask a friend or sibling for a book recommendation and read some of it! Proof not applicable. (6/17)
✔️ 50 points: Read a couple chapters of a scratch comic. Proof not applicable. (6/11)
✔️ 60 points: Is there something you’re curious about? Research it and read about it. Proof not applicable. (6/22)
✔️ 70 points: Read a non-fiction book. Proof not applicable. (6/1)
80 points: Read something another SIC-er has written and give them feedback! Make sure they want the feedback first. Proof required.
✔️ 90 points: Read an entire novel during SIC. Only counts if you started and finished it in June! Proof not applicable, but please be honest! (6/5)

Coding Activities
✔️ 10 points: Investigate the purposes of blocks you’re unfamiliar with. Proof not applicable.
✔️ 20 points: Use a block or script you’ve never used before. Proof optional.
30 points: Look at an old project of yours, or someone else’s if you don’t have any. Make sure it isn’t too complicated. Now, without looking at the original project’s code, try to replicate it. How close did you come? Proof optional.
40 points: Code something using a Scratch tutorial, or a tutorial another Scratcher made. Proof optional.
50 points: What do you know about other programming languages? Pick one and research it. Share a couple similarities and differences between Scratch and the programming language of your choice. Proof required.
60 points: Code a project that makes use of variables. Proof optional.
70 points: Code something that helps you with a task you need to complete. Proof optional.
80 points: Make a tutorial on how to code something on Scratch. Proof required.
90 points: Code any project you’d like and share it with us! Proof required.

Self-Care Activities
10 points: Change up your nightly routine to get more than 10 hours of sleep tonight <3 Proof not applicable.
✔️ 20 points: Set aside 20 minutes to take a nap. Even if you don’t succeed in falling asleep, stay there and let your mind and body relax. Proof not applicable. (6/5)
✔️ 30 points: Create a routine goal and try to stick to it for the next week. Proof (in the form of sharing the goal and whether you managed it) optional. (6/25)
40 points: Spend about an hour with absolutely no screen time. Instead, do something creative, active, or collaborative. Proof optional.
✔️ 50 points: Practice mindfulness. Set aside all distractions and take a few deep breaths. How do you feel right now, physically and emotionally? Why do you feel this way? What’s around you? Is there anything your mind won’t stop wandering to? Proof not applicable. (6/9)
60 points: Express your emotions in a safe way of your choice. Proof optional.
70 points: Spend a good amount of time cleaning your room. If you don’t have much to clean up, ask a family member if they have any chores you could help with. Proof not applicable.
✔️ 80 points: Try a guided meditation. Proof not applicable.
90 points: Make yourself a healthy, delicious meal from scratch. No instant noodles or kraft dinner allowed! Be sure you have permission from a parent, and if possible, have someone around to help you if you need it. Proof optional.

Outdoor Activities
✔️ 10 points: Go on a short walk in nature, or spend some time at a park. Proof not applicable. (6/5)
20 points: Find a tree or plant near you and try to identify it using a field guide or online resource. Record what you think it is and tell us. Remember not to touch or eat any plant unless you’re positive it’s safe to do so! Further proof not applicable.
30 points: What is something in the natural world you want to learn more about? Do some research, and share a couple facts with SIC-ers. Proof required (the facts count).
40 points: Recruit at least two people to join you in an outdoor activity of your choice! Proof not applicable.
50 points: Make a leaf rubbing! This is where you stick a leaf under a sheet of paper and rub firmly on the paper with a pencil or crayon. The patterns of the leaf should reveal themselves on the paper. If it’s winter where you live, try rubbing a stick or piece of bark. Proof required.
60 points: Get some exercise! Do something active outside for as long as you can. How do you feel after? Proof not applicable.
70 points: Have a ball around? Lots of games use them. Invent your own! Proof optional.
80 points: Go outside and record what you notice with each sense (but don’t taste things unless you’re sure it’s safe to do so!). Do this every couple days, and see if you notice any patterns. Proof required.
90 points: Start a nature journal! You can include basically anything in it. Flowers you’ve gathered and maybe tried to identify, lists of animals you’ve seen, descriptions of the weather, anything! Proof required, although be careful not to give anything away about your location!

Inspiring Others Activities
✔️ 10 points: Smile at everyone you see today. Proof not applicable. (6/23)
20 points: What is a piece of advice that has helped you a lot? Pass it on to someone you know, or share it with other SIC-ers. Proof not applicable.
30 points: Find a friend and work on homework, writing, art, or anything else together. Be sure to keep each other accountable! Proof not applicable.
40 points: Go to a project you really enjoyed and let the creator know what you think of it! Proof optional.
50 points: Write a thank-you note to someone you appreciate. Explain why you appreciate them and the impact they’ve had on you. Proof optional.
✔️ 60 points: Write a kind message on a piece of paper and hide it somewhere in public for a stranger to find. You could hide it at school, at your local library or community centre, or anywhere else you can think of. Proof not applicable.
70 points: Give someone a handmade gift. Proof not applicable.
80 points: Do something small you think will have a positive impact on your community. Proof not applicable.
✔️ 90 points: Be a mentor to someone. Do you have younger siblings, or know any younger kids in your area? Find someone who wants help with something you’re good at and see what you can do for them. Proof not applicable. (6/26)

interesting.

Activity Sheet Proof

Music

2. Thoughts on New Song

The song I listened to was Little League by Conan Gray. I really like the vibe of the song, which was somewhat upbeat but also quite bittersweet. The chorus was slower and less climatic than I was expecting, but I think it's a nice symbolism for the transition to adulthood. Overall, I really enjoyed listening and I think that Little League might be one of my favorite Conan Gray songs.


8. Playlist

✧ when anything's possible
The Greatest Show (The Greatest Showman)
Run Wild (Oh Geeez)
Victory (Two Steps From Hell)
Long Live The King (Sabaton)
The Last Battle (Sabaton)




Writing

1. Write for 10 minutes

Based on a dream that I had! This is a vaguely sci-fi AU of All the Light We Cannot See where Werner is present at the Battle of Berlin.

Very scattered writing ahaha, I was mainly writing for inspo.

TW: appearances of death, war, and arson.

The city falls down around him. He could sense it. Clutching the tiny house in his hand, he marveled at the speed at which everything had fallen down.

Back then, he knew. He has a shadow of a doubt, and now it has expanded like so.

General Wenck and his soldiers has created the bridge across the Elbe. Werner is thankful for such an act, but doubt lingered, just out of reach. War has spared him thus far; he fears that that will change very soon.

-

He climbs the Reichstag.

To the Berliners it is quite a marvel. A marvel, a confusion, a sight of horror.

“What are you doing?” voices rang out.

-

Jutta watches the city burn beyond the gushing waters of the river. Werner is still there, somewhere, because of some ridiculous quest. A mission, he had called it, pointing at the house in his hands and the rusty key. Jutta does not understand how something could be worth his life. She had never quite understood the way a certain part of his brain thinks.

-

He stands on the Reichstag.

For Jutta.

He raises the key high in his hands. Storm clouds form clusters around the crumbled eagle, head knocked down by the countless strikes against the city.

And then it hits him, sending his hair standing up on their ends as the lighting strikes.

-

The Russian soldier faced him.

Werner does not move. He has died a death on that minefield in France; he has died countless times below the mountains of Ukraine and in the narrow streets of Austria. Phantom deaths, across so many universes.

This will be another one.

“Stop.”

Although the soldier speaks in a foreign tongue, Werner comprehends. He makes no move to obey.

“Halt.”

He takes a step towards the Russian, face impassive.

The soldier glances at Werner’s scruffled Wehrmacht uniform, down at his hidden hands (one clutching the key, one holding the house; both behind his back) and then up at his face that still held a slight trace of boyishness. Tethering at the edge of hesitation, for he thinks that this is one death that does not have to happen.

But Werner steps forward, and the soldier raises his rifle.

Bullets fly in that alley.

-

The countless Berliners who pass Werner's body have no idea of anything that he has faced. He is just another nameless and faceless (for who is willing to look at the faces of the dead?) soldier on the street, most likely a deserter, certainly someone at the wrong place at the wrong time. How could they ever find the truth, anyways?




4. Random words

The words I got were stop, expectation, stand, and crown!

Basil crouched by the water’s edge, watching moonlight flicker across the dark ripples. He knew that he shouldn’t be here, but it was far easier to collect his thoughts when he was looking down at the water. Especially when it was so beautiful at night. He never had such a privilege in his old life.


“All hail the Laurel Crown”

All of the servants dropped down into a deep bow, which made the Crown acutely uncomfortable.

“You may now stand,” he said as quickly as he could.

The servants scampered up in confusion. Clearly, their expectations of the new Crown did not include politeness or effectiveness; given the old Crown’s tendency to keep people in bows for up to an hour, it was easy to see why.

Skin still prickling from the discomfort of so much attention casted on him, the Laurel Crown hurried off to his quarters. As far as he knew, his older cousin was the regent, but the Crown would gain all of his duties and titles once he came of age. For now, though, the Laurel Crown was all that he had. He wasn’t exactly keen to be leader; Scilis was a much more effective ruler, and when she stepped down most of her duties would then be given to other advisors to the throne.

(It was ironic that the regent had more power than the Crown, but despite his young age, the soon-to-be leader knew very well just how empty and useless the Crown’s Seat was.)

Speaking of Scilis, she burst out of a doorway and waved at him. The Crown skidded to a sudden stop as she strolled over.

“Mother wants to see you,” she said primly.



5. Poetry

TW: based on the bombing of Hiroshima

the city tethers
on the edge of madness

before all fall
in waves of blinding light and equally blinding darkness
that weaves
between
screams and ashes and grotesque cells

they spread like plague
through the
empty
husk

that remains of Hiroshima



8. Create new character

A character for my hopefully-NaNo novel :0 sorry it's not much, I'm not good at character descriptions asldkfjsl

Flavius Flint serves as an academic senator at the local university in a small port town. He has blonde hair, pale skin, green-blue eyes, a reedy build, and a generally nervous disposition. Given his anxious nature, he’s a surprisingly mature and responsible mentor/guardian to his two unexpected new wards. He’s also quite headstrong when the situation calls for it, being unreceptive to bribes and frankly unimpressed with the faulty blackmail attempts that he has occasionally received, due to his career and the presence of Camphora and Basil in his household. Flavius is also quite a good fighter (a skill no doubt learned from his cousin Brenn) and could hold his own very well in a tussle. He has a peculiar aversion to shellfish but is a big fan of fried cod.

MC Daily 7/1

Hi there, everybody! My nickname is Sandy, I go by she/her, my timezone is the glorious land of PST, I'm Chinese American, and I'm 14 years old! I can't think of any other basic information about myself at the moment, so that will have to suffice. Anyways, I'm in Steampunk this session.

So, I guess I will proceed to tell you about myself! Neat. So, we'll start off with SWC history, shall we?

This July is my 8th session. My first was Real-Fi, then Hi-Fi, Thriller, Fan-Fi, Fairy-Tales, Horror, Folklore, and now (as aforementioned) Steampunk. As you can see I'm kinda going for cabin bingo, which is pretty fun. I've colead for Fairy-Tales and Folklore, and both were awesome experiences! Viara, Aspen, Alia, and Piper – if you happen to be reading this, you guys are amazing

Now, let's see. Now that we're done with SWC, I'll go to a bit of background info about my life? I was born in the U.S. but I spent the first 6-ish years of my life in China, so Mandarin is my first language! Admittedly I'm far less proficient at it than English, but I'm still relatively fluent, fortunately.

As for my hobbies, I quite enjoy writing, reading, studying history, card games, and also art! My favorite genre is historical fiction, but I'm also a recent fan of Six of Crows, The Owl House, and The Greatest Showman. In any case, if you have any historical fiction recommendations, please let me know!

Okay. Now, I'm gonna move on to my interest in history! This should get around 300 words down, haha, because I really enjoy learning history! I'm mostly familiar with the modern era, especially the American Revolution and the two world wars. But I've also been trying to learn some Chinese history, which I know outrageously little about. Anyways, I really enjoy writing historical fiction (as I mentioned), especially real person fiction. Studying historical figures is really interesting – everyone has their flaws and strengths, and they're quite important in the course of history. Of course, it depends on who the figure is. Like, Erwin Rommel! Rommel's one of the historical figures who I've studied the most in my lifetime (the other figure would be the Marquis de Lafayette), and throughout the course of 1.6-ish years I've come to learn about him and his role in the regime he served. This isn't the time or place to go on about that, though – if you're interested by any chance I can send a copy of my Rommel essay once I'm done with it (although I've been working on it for more than a year and I barely made progress haha – I'm really bad at finishing my works). Back to the general topic of history, there's been a lot of media that got me interested. The first one would be the Magic Tree House series: I'm pretty sure it's the whole reason I would go on to read more hi-fi and get further invested in the genre. Funnily enough, I learned about Alexander the Great through the Magic Treehouse! Jack and Annie are a cool lil' duo. But aside from books, there's been other sources of media that I've gotten interested in that involves history. For one, the History Bombs channel is pretty cool. And there's Sabaton, my favorite band! They're a heavy metal group, and a huge majority of their songs is about military, especially modern military history (the two world wars, like I was saying). I like their recent songs a lot, but my favorite album is Heroes, about heroic figures of the Second World War. I might continue my Heroes fanfic from November 2021, hehe. Finally, The Long Long Holiday is a cool little show set in WWII (yeah, I know, loads of WWII stuff). It gets depressing further along the episodes (there are 10), but it's still an amazing show with really cool characters. As with any fandom I'm in, I have, like, 4 favorite characters from the show.

I think that's enough, and that probably was 300 words, haha. I can go ahead to the actually fudge sundae part of the daily! Now, I'm extremely unfamiliar with ice cream (I don't eat a lot lol), but I think that I'll be a scoop of cookies and cream, because it's yummy and it's alternating between dark and light (showing that I have both strengths and weaknesses?). Then comes a scoop of blue raspberry, because (again) I like the flavor and I like myself? Also, it kinda contrasts with cookies and cream, which is somewhat more austere and formal (though still quite delicious!) than the bright blue raspberry. I'd prefer a cone – I'm pretty resourceful and I really don't waste things, and using an edible container sounds totally my thing! Now, there's no cherry on top because I defy the classics, mwahaha – but I'd love to have some strawberry syrup on top, because I've never had it (on ice cream or elsewhere) and I like trying new things. Now, that's much better symbolism! Now, we also have some sprinkles, because I'm just that whimsical and random enough to put sprinkles on such a sugary thing.

Nice. Now, for my last hundered-ish words, I'll talk about card games! I'm relatively skilled among my friends at Egyptian War, because of how I slap the cards – I kinda duck down beneath everyone else's hands to nab the current deck, which is definitely not a motion I pay attention to, but it works! For reaction-based card games in general, I'm pretty decent. I also have a neat little strategy for Cabo/Kaboom where I swap out a top card with a king I draw and then swap that out with a jack or queen when I get one – and voila, someone else gets my king! Hehe.

So that's it for my 1k intro – I ended up talking a lot about history ahaha, but it was fun regardless.

Daily 7/2

Words from Soki: marksman, metalloid, cumbersome, enchantment, lodge
330 words!
The white text is a spoiler for the end of Six of Crows (first book), highlight at your own risk ^^'

It was quite a glorious morning. The thin fog that had settled in before the sun rose was scattered by the dawning light, casting a dreamy glow on the streets of Ketterdam below. It was as if an enchantment had been cast upon the city, one that not even wars or gangs could run over.

In the backyard of a mansion, the lanky marksman readied his pearl-handled revolvers and took careful aim at the target. The familiar metalloid surface of the handle was cold beneath his bare hands, colder than the chill of late fall. A moment passed, then two. And finally, he fired.

As the bullet whistled through the air, he tried to control its material, direct its course toward its final target. He was not quite familiar with his Fabrikator powers yet – using them was often cumbersome work – but applying it to something familiar made it a lot easier to get accustomed to.

And finally, he saw that his efforts were precise. The bullet had lodged itself straight in the middle of the target.

“Neat work, Jes,” a voice said behind him.

Jesper whirled around to see Wylan striding out of the mansion with an impressed expression on his face. He must’ve watched him shoot a thousand times, and Jesper couldn’t fathom how he was so starstruck every single time

“I would've never thought your target practice would become this…”

“Mundane?” Jesper suggested. “Boring? Non-lethal?”

“All of the above,” Wylan replied with a grin. “You probably woke up half of the city by now. Good thing me and my mom were already up.”

“The heck if I care. And if we get a noise complaint stadwatch are never going to be laying a hand on these two babies.”

He nodded affectionately towards his revolvers.

“Mhm, yeah.” Wylan looked away and peered toward the target once more.

“What, jealous?” Jesper teased, ruffling Wylan's flaming red hair.

“Shut up,” he retorted with a light shove, but didn’t drop his grin.

Daily 7/3 (sorta?)

Dare from Luna: “Write 200 words on the backstory of a character you made up long time ago”
Dare from Crystie: “Write about your first character you can remember interacting with your newest made character”
I kinda just combined them xD

So the two boys are Perce and Finrod (their names might be subject to change haha), who I made like last week, and Brightwings was from my first shared Scratch project from almost five years ago :0
The story will probably be continued sometime

711 words but I don't think it matters haha

Brightwings flapped weakly as he tried to find land. Go, go, he thought to himself. If he didn't get to somewhere very soon, his wings were going to quit flapping and he was going to die right there in the water. After all, a parrot like him was not suited for this type of survival work.

Finally, he caught a glimmer of green in the distance. Land? Land? Please let it be land, whatever great deity was up there. The parrot didn't quite believe in any of the gods that the humans did, but he willed someone to save him, mortal or not. In his short life, he has had many owners. Some kind, some cruel, all of them sailors on the high seas. So he had seen many wreckages too. But Brightwings had never been this far from hope, this far from the rest of civilization.

The last owner was the worst of them all. He would use Brightwings as an instrument to his claim to power on the ship, but the parrot was treated no better than the rest of the poor crew on board. Oh, how he longed for the lush jungles that he once called home. It was with the thought of them that he beat his wings harder, determined to reach the green land.

He didn't know how long it took, but he did know that soon the shore swelled in front of him. With one last great beat of effort, he rose higher in the sky, and the sea gave way to darkness as he splashed into the water.


The two boys were rather startled to see the bedraggled bird plummet from the sky, and they scampered over to the water from the rocky outcropping they had been sitting on. Fortunately, the parrot landed close to the sand – the slightly taller of the two was able to grab the bird without getting his trousers wet. (The knee-high boots required as part of the Academy’s uniform certainly helped.)

“Is it alive?” he asked his friend, who searched for a pulse and nodded. There. It was weak, but it was still something.

So the two gently held the parrot and carried it back indoors.


“What do parrots eat, anyways?”

Brightwings stirred as he heard the voices.

“I don't know. Do you want to head to the library then?”

“Not sure if that's a good idea, leaving it alone here-”

The red parrot shifted slightly as he took hold of his surroundings. His feathers looked and felt quite clean, and he was wrapped up in a soft blanket. Huh. He remembered his fall from the sky, the dark water meeting his impact. And now he was here.

“Look, it's awake!” a boy exclaimed and scrambled over. He had tan skin, dark hair, and rather intense black eyes, alit with excitement over seeing Brightwings. From the parrot's knowledge of human ages, he looked about fifteen. Not that young, not that old. Some of the hands on deck were around that age too.

“Perce, leave him alone,” the other boy said as he strolled over, tucking his curls behind his ears. He was brown-skinned, a year or two older but standing shorter than the one called Perce. He didn't quite have the same eagerness that his friend had over seeing Brightwings, but his dark eyes were kind regardless.

“How do you know it's a him?” Perce countered.

“The wings are usually blue on males. And look, his beak is wider than a female’s too.”

Perce half-nodded, half-shrugged, not bothering to question the information. When he didn't reply, his friend continued: “Well, we've got to feed him something for now if we can't go to the library.”

“I mean, I guess we can, but it's all the way across campus, and I don't think you're going to find information about parrots in Mausblitz's writings on the Third Canyon War. Plus, do you think we're going to be let in with him?”

Brightwings had had enough of these stupid teenagers. “You can just ask me what I eat, you know.”

The two of them gawked as he spoke. Granted, his voice was not like a human's, but it was evidently decipherable enough judging by the way that the two stared at him.

7/4 MC Daily

Twist from Starthorn: “In the climactic scene of the story, a character suddenly collapses for some reason that is not immediately apparent.”
Twist from Crystie: “A character that's crucial to the scene suddenly teleports to another room mid-sentence”

I ended up not clarifying why Lieutenant Douglas collapsed whoops xD
405 words!

The Robinsons watched as Colette barreled past the bush where they were hiding behind, shouting at the top of her 8-year-old lungs: “You guys are sauerkrauts!”

There was someone waiting in the ruins that they called their clubhouse – someone who could be friend or foe. Someone who could be very dangerous, if they were the latter.

So the six leapt up and followed her as she skidded to a stop on the grass, but what they saw shocked them. A pilot, wearing a ragged bomber jacket, was lying facedown on the grass. Ernest's first thought was that he could be dead, but on second thought…

“Is he snoring?” Jean asked incredulously.

“I don't know. He was awake when I came in, but I guess he just fell asleep” Colette shrugged good-naturedly.

Ernest caught sight of the symbol on the pilot's jacket. *RAF* That was the British air force, right? So this must be the pilot that there were posters about.

“So what do we do with him?” Ernest put out. They had a British pilot who just passed out, and who's wanted dead or alive by the Germans. Yikes. Apparently no one else knew what to do, not even Lily, since they all stayed silent when he put out the question.

“Alright, then, I guess we-”

But the world suddenly started spinning for no apparent reason, and Ernest felt himself being tossed as if he was in a blender. (But blenders didn't exist in his era. Oh well. Anyways.)

“-have to hide him,” he managed to finish as the spinning stopped.

Right then, he fell right on his bottom onto a smoothly polished floor. Looking up, he realized with a jolt of horror that he was staring right into the face of Colonel von Krieger, who was sitting behind an expensive-looking wood desk. The colonel gawked back, seeming equally baffled. So the two held the gaze for a good couple of seconds, until Kurt poked his head into the office. “Hide who?” he quipped.

That broke Ernest out of his trance. He jumped to his feet and began scrambling away, realizing with a sinking feeling that he was on the third floor of the building. Shoveling past countless soldiers and officers on his way down the stairs, he finally made it past the gates and Jean's father the mayor (“Ernest, what are you-”) and hid… behind a bush.

What a bizarre day it has been.

7/5 MC Daily

Keyboard smoothie! 219 words.

Sandy grinned manically as she chopped up the keyboard into mechanical parts and scattered keys. She tossed them into the Ernest blender (a reference readers would understand if they referred to her previous daily) and after a short while of blending with a mechanical screwdriver (another reference readers would understand if they watched a certain scene from the second-to-last episode of the sixth season of Monk), she finally made it look nice and relatively edible, with dark crunchy bits of keyboard swirling inside of a dark chocolate-like mixture. For good measure, she added some cream and chocolate syrup on top of the smoothie, making it more like a frappuccino.

Now comes the moment of truth! She took one sip of the smoothie and immediately felt minute vibrations in her fingers. Then, she quickly opened Write or Die. Although the effects of the smoothie faded within a mere 5 milliseconds, the 7532.144917 words she wrote with her temporarily gained WPM of 90385739 was far enough to make up for it. Triumph blazed through every single cell of her body as she stood up. She would be unbeatable in every word war and cabin war! No writing comp entry or lab report will ever be undone as long as she had the power to make the keyboard smoothie! Mwahahahaha.

The end >:]