swc megathread ☾ november 2023

Dawn_Camps

ʚ ────── ʚ ⋅ November 8th Daily ⋅ ɞ ───── ɞ
583 words
(The camera flickers on, revealing a cozy cabin scene. The snow is falling softly outside while the fire crackles inside. Three figures are seated in armchairs arranged in a semicircle around the fire.)

PRESENT DAWN: Hey, guys! It's good to see you. I believe you've each prepared a few questions you wanted to ask.
PAST DAWN: Yep! (smiles wide, revealing a semi-toothless mouth)
FUTURE DAWN: I have. (turns to past dawn) Would you like to ask a question first?
PAST DAWN: Sure! (looks down at the paper in her hand) Um, do we ever get over our shyness?
(both PRESENT DAWN and FUTURE DAWN start speaking at the same time.)
FUTURE DAWN: (laughs) You go first.
PRESENT DAWN: I don't know that we “get over” it. We definitely do come out of our shell a bit. We started doing theatre which helped a lot. It's pretty hard to be shy and not talk to anyone in theatre.
FUTURE DAWN: Yeah, we're still pretty shy with new people. But around college, we start to take the initiative. We initiated the friendship with one of our current closest friends.
PAST DAWN: That's good to know. I can't imagine going up to a stranger and talking to them now.
PRESENT DAWN: (smiles) On to our next question. Past Dawn, how many siblings do you currently have, and do you think that number will grow anytime soon?
PAST DAWN: We have three siblings right now. One sister and one brother. (thinks for a moment) I don't think we'll get any more siblings. I think three kids is all mommy can handle for now. Why? Do we get more siblings in the future?
PRESENT DAWN: Yeah! We get another sister and another brother.
PAST DAWN: Wow! That's a lot of kids.
FUTURE DAWN: (laughs) It is indeed. I believe it's my turn to ask a question. (turns to PRESENT DAWN) Do you think your current friends will stay for the future?
PRESENT DAWN: Well, I hope so. I think T and A will stay but I'm not sure about the rest. (frowns) I've had so many people come and go in my life, it feels like no one will ever stay.
FUTURE DAWN: Yeah, I'm sorry to say that a lot of them will leave. But! A few of them do stay. We're still friends with T and A, as well as K, AL, and B.
PRESENT DAWN: Oh, that's good to hear!
PAST DAWN: Who are T, A, K, AL, and B?
PRESENT DAWN: You'll find that out later in life.
PAST DAWN: Like how much later?
PRESENT DAWN: In ninth grade.
PAST DAWN: Woah, I'll be old. (shocked)
PRESENT DAWN: Not that old!
FUTURE DAWN: Yeah, I know 14 seems really old. But take it from someone who's 12 years older than 14. When you're 14, you're still very young.
PAST DAWN: If you say so… Next question! Future Dawn, do we get married?
FUTURE DAWN: (laughs) We do. (shows ring) But not to anyone you know. (turns to PRESENT DAWN) No one you know either. We end up meeting an amazing guy in college.
PRESENT DAWN: Ooh, what's he like?
FUTURE DAWN: He's very sweet and caring. He's super protective.
PAST DAWN: What's his job? Because I want to marry a farmer.
FUTURE DAWN: (laughs) You're not going to believe this but he actually is a farmer.
PRESENT DAWN: Wait- really??
FUTURE DAWN: Yep, I bet you didn't expect that.
PRESENT DAWN: No, I didn't.

Last edited by Dawn_Camps (Nov. 9, 2023 00:38:10)

-vanillamochabear-

daily 8
it's exactly twelve o'clock on a saturday, and the sun is right in the middle of the sky. veni is peacefully reading on a park bench. there's not many people around - everybody was probably out doing something more important, like grocery shopping. a couple of ducks are pecking at her feet, hoping for bread.
without warning, two figures fall straight out of the sky. well, not exactly the sky, they had sort of materialized a bit upwards and fallen the rest of the way. the ducks scatter. veni, the right one, isn't very startled, but one of the of the two had knocked her book right out of her hands. it unfortunately tumbled down a storm drain, and she jumped up.
“hey! i just got that book yesterday, you – ” she finally glances at the person's face, and almost faints when she realizes who it is. (her thoughts kind of went “wow, i do not look great”.)
big girl veni (venti?)'s eyes widen. “oh my stars, it's you!! i remember this moment,” she pauses. “i don't however, remember this happening - that book was like twenty dollars.”
“exactly. money, now.” medium veni demands.
“i'm not paying myself – ”
she thinks about this for a moment, then shrugs. she points at the apparently older version of herself.
“anyways. you're – ”
old lady veni pointed back. “mhm. and i'm eighteen. i can vote. and your perception of me is wildly inaccurate!”
a third voice entered the conversation, one that they both realize they had forgotten about. it was higher-pitched and really annoying. “uhm, what's going on – ”
“ew.” grande and venti say in unison. they did, however, move an arm to point at the elementary-school version of themselves. (she didn't get the reference)
they kind of stand there for a bit, until large veni clears her throat. “alright, you all want to talk? none of you guys better make it philosophical, though.”
normal laughs. “do i want to talk? not really.” she added in a whisper, “do you hate yourself?”
large smiles. “of course! you'll get used to it eventually. at least you're not preparing to pay taxes. ugh.”
middle nods, like that was a perfectly reasonable answer. small veni clutches her stuffie to her chest. “does anybwody die??”
“nope! not at all.” they both answer. they had telepathically agreed to protect this child.
she ponders that, then says: “can i go home pwease??”
“yeah yeah yeah, of course.” says my-book-fell-down-the-drain veni. “just gotta figure out how to do that…” she mutters.
and like magic, the two other versions of herself suddenly sparkled away, and she was once again seated on the park bench, her book back in her hands. the ducks were back at her feet. she closes the book loudly.
“hello? me? me? uhh, veni?” no one answered, but a passing couple looked at her weirdly.
she sighs, then settles back into a comfortable position. she glanced at her watch - twelve o one. it was probably all a hallucination - she just needed more sleep.

-WildClan-

They are thinking hard, having finally gotten the motivation to write. Her playlist is singing in her ear, but she isn’t really listening. They’re too busy trying to think of how to frame a fictional situation for the sake of a SWC daily.
After a few minutes of deliberation, they decide to use the character that is the alternate-universe version of herself, which generally represents her past self, rather than trying to write from the POV of her actual past self. This is because they can’t quite remember what her actual past self’s thoughtscape was like, so the alternate-reality version wouldn’t be that much more inaccurate. Beside, the alternate-reality character was someone they’d been meaning to write about anyway. They could be double-productive!
Smiling faintly, she begins to type about him.

He was sitting and thinking, as he often was. What was their place in this world? He was surely living the dream by any creature’s standard. He had everything he could possibly need or want. And yet, something left them feeling unfulfilled.
They supposed it was themself that was the problem. His fur was the same as always, his wings never grew any longer, and the sky was always the same color. To put it simply, they were bored. They just didn’t care about any of this stuff anymore, and he blundered through his life, soft and directionless. They were deep in this rut, looking for another world to interest them. They wanted to learn and grow and find a purpose and most of all, stop being so dreadfully boring.
That’s when he saw it- a faint, ghostly shape materializing into a form that looked… that looked a lot like him, actually, the main difference being that it didn’t have any eyes.
This was more like it. He approached the strange figure.

When its time comes, they will cease to think. They will contemplate their last moments, and then disappear from the world- BOTH worlds- for good. It will be quite a bittersweet sensation for its past self to one day reach this point, but then again, they will have been preparing for this day to come for nearly their whole life. So, just as planned, it will slip away, entrusting their universe to all they have created: their fans, their characters, their universe itself.
Then everyone would discover just how far they had thought ahead, how much they had planned since the beginning. It will no longer be able to create, but the creations it had made in preparation? Those will keep going, telling all the rest of the story.
Speaking of the rest of the story, it will be time to tell that soon enough. It will let themself slip back through the years, back to when they had been young, only just beginning to search for themself, their purpose…

She begins to conclude her short story, realizing that the SWC deadline was almost up.
Maybe life would be everything her past self dreamed it could be, or maybe her future self would look back on her and imagine what it’d be like to tell her everything she hadn’t foreseen. But maybe the most important thing right now was simply writing everything she can.
“Here’s to another great daily,” she says out loud, thinking about everything they had figured out over the course of writing this passage.

“Here’s to the future, then,” he says, countless ideas piled up in their brain.
“And here’s to the past,” it replies, their final thoughts ephemeral and unnamed. A final grin wavers in the air before dissipating like smoke. And then it’s gone. It had become something new- a universe- and will become so much more in the life that is yet to come.

CherryMango17

Part 1-
“How many days did I spend
Thinkin' ‘bout how you did me wrong, wrong, wrong?
Lived in the shade you were throwin’
'Til all of my sunshine was gone, gone, gone
And I couldn't get away from ya”

song: I forgot you existed

Alyssa sits under the tree watching her friends standing with the others. There was a time where she might have joined them. As they went towards the boys, Alyssa flinches.
Back when she was full of life and sunlight, everyone gravitated toward her and she had everyone wrapped around her little finger, literally. But when Oly came along, and she fell for him, everything changed.
“Oly, I think I like you.”
“Really?! You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for those words to come out of your mouth!”
It wasn’t long before he proved that what he said wasn’t true.
“You! You’re the reason everyone hates me!” He screamed.
“I- I didn’t-“
The sound of a slap followed.
Alyssa grew quieter.
“Oly, I still love you.”
“Well, I hate you.”
And more reserved.
“Alyssa, you know how I said I’ll protect you from everyone?”
She never responded anymore.
The slap sounded through the room again.
“Yes, sir. You did tell me.”
What followed was too horrible to explain. Her soul seemed to leak out of her body slowly but surely as the weeks followed.
the bright colors in her wardrobe faded into blacks.
Her loving, shining personality was replaced by the personality of the mute kids.
She ran and ran trying to get away from Him. But he always found her, claiming to help her, but not. She continued to run, thinking about her mistakes.
Alyssa sits under the tree in the shade, thinking about him, while her friends talk with the boys in the sun.
+257 words

part 2-
name: Alyssa
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: was straight, but after multiple things that happened with people she knew and herself, she became aromantic
age: 17
species: human
strengths: she can charm anyone, or at least she used to be able to. can run fast, is good at school. way too loyal and refuses to leave someone even if they do her wrong no matter what unless something drastic happens
weaknesses: trusts too easy, naive, stubborn, strong willed
tendencies: she tends to go with everyone else, but after multiple incidents, stuff happened, and now she will do the opposite of what others do. if someone is kind ot her, sometimes she tells all her problems and completely opens up to them and she is also one of those sweet children, so she tends to be very sentimental at times. she also tends to talk a lot about whatever she likes and dislikes.
likes: shopping, reading, singing, track and field
dislikes: boys, people, humans,
+162 words

Part 3:

Alyssa is back in the same room that she has been in for months, trying to leave, but not successful.
She looks around in fear, as the room spins around her. Oli never let her go. She was never able to stay away from him. She knew that she had to get away, but she couldn’t. She loved him but was scared of him at the same time. If only she was able to get away. At least she was still able to get food and water. She tries to leave the room as she hears Oli coming in, and as she runs out, it doesn’t seem to work because she is running in circles, returning to Oli and he doesn’t even have to try to get her to come back. She will. Her brain panics as she tries to find ways to get away, but her heart is still here. She curls up and hides as he returns, all she wants to do is get away from this. +169

Alyssa cries. She cries by herself in her room. her arms are bl33ding. She didn’t even do anything today. She was the perfect girl that Oli could have wanted, but he still hurt her. She creeps into her parent’s bedroom, trying to get to the first aid kit. She sits on her bed, bandaging herself when Oli calls. She picks up and he asks her how she’s doing.
“bandaging myself.”
“Good girl” he replies.
I’m alive. She thinks. I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive.
That’s all she can bear to repeat when he is talking to her. He is unable to give her what she wants. True affection. None of her friends can. Her teachers can’t. all the people she charmed? They can’t either. Her parents? Just forget it. No one would give her the support to help her get back up to where she was before. She was able to do that before. But not now… not at time like this +166

When she finally stood up to Oli, it was like she became someone completely different. What happened afterward wasn’t, but all she had to do is take that first step, and it all continued from there. He left and she was able to do what she needed with her life. Looking around, with new eyes, she can see the world again. It is dimmer and less sparkly, but she can see again. If only she could go back to what she was before. All she needs is someone in her life who she can trust and they accept her too. But, she doesn’t know how to get it. She is scared to go back to that world where Oli still is, and to laugh and sign like before. If only she could. Slowly, she sits up and makes her way towards her old friends.
“Hello… Can I join you?” She asks hesitantly.
“you? No. I wouldn’t want to be seen with a person like you. Back when you were popular, yeah, it was amazing, but now? No!”
They laugh as Alyssa walks away, her life breaking apart again
I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive +194

+532 words

Part 4:

As Alyssa sat on her bed, tending to her wounds, her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The physical pain served as a momentary distraction from the storm raging inside her. Each bandage she applied felt like an attempt to piece together not just her flesh but her shattered sense of self-worth.

Oli's call, his indifferent tone, cut through her fragile composure. The “Good girl” he uttered like an absentminded praise was a twisted reminder of the power dynamics in their relationship. It was a relationship veiled in toxicity, one where his validation felt like a lifeline even though it perpetuated her agony.

The desperation for affection, for someone to see her pain beyond the superficial, was suffocating. She craved understanding, compassion—something deeper than the fleeting affirmations she sought from others. But it seemed as though the world was blind to her silent pleas for help.

Alyssa's thoughts circled back to a time when she could lift herself up, dust off her pain, and move forward. But now, the weight of her inner turmoil felt too heavy to bear alone. She longed for someone to step in, to offer the steady hand she needed to rise from this suffocating darkness.

She gazed at her phone, Oli's name displayed on the screen. Would he ever be the person she needed? The hope flickered faintly but was rapidly doused by the recurring patterns of his detachment and disregard.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she pondered her friendships, her interactions with people she had charmed effortlessly before. It was a facade that had cracked, revealing the depths of her loneliness and anguish. Their inability to truly understand her pain left her feeling more isolated than ever. Alyssa's thoughts darted to a time when she could gather her strength and move past her hardships. But the weight of her current anguish seemed insurmountable, dragging her down into an abyss she couldn’t escape from alone.

The door to her room creaked open, and her mother's eyes met hers. Without saying a word, her mother sat beside her, taking the bandages from her hand. Alyssa's emotions welled up, a mixture of relief and shame. She had tried so hard to conceal her suffering, yet her mother's presence felt like a glimmer of hope.

Except, her mother didn’t do anything. She hesitated for a few seconds and eventually left the room without saying a word.

In that solitary moment, a pang of disappointment and desolation struck Alyssa’s heart. The realization that even her family might not fully comprehend or be equipped to handle her distress intensified her feelings of isolation.

Her eyes fixed on the door her mother had just closed. Alyssa grappled with a mix of emotions—a longing for support, a desperate need for someone to bridge the chasm of her despair, and an understanding that maybe, just maybe, she was truly alone in this battle.

Oli’s voice had stopped for a few moments. But it started again.
“You don’t have anyone else. You need me.”
“Your right Oli. I love you.”
“I don’t though.”
+514 words

1698 words

Last edited by CherryMango17 (Nov. 9, 2023 02:08:22)

CHUROS000

Churro's Dailies #8
(word count: 207)
Churro lazily trudges into the main cabin. She had gone on a long day of dragon flying with the Fantasy cabin kids, and she's tired. She opens the door only to find a Nike shoe fly past her head. What is going on?!
“It’s Chaos Never Dies Day!” Somebody shouts. “Some campers decided to cause some mischief, and now, you can only talk in third person!” Churro's eyes land on the bulletin board in front of you. She see the words, “Roleplay Day” in big letters and sighs.
“But… I… er, she's so used to speaking in first person. And she's used to writing in third too…” Churro glances around nervously.
Someone comes up behind her and taps her back. “Rainy walks up to Churro and taps her back. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Rainy says.” The person that Churro now assumes is Rainy, exclaims dramatically.
“Er… Churro turns around anxiously and says… ‘Stop tapping my back!’” Churro says uneasily. How does this work?!
“Rainy continues to tap.” Rainy says.
“Churro is now getting irritated, only when she realizes…” Churro hesitates. “Rainy is tapping in morse code!”
“What?!” Rainy exclaims. “Oh wait- ‘What?!’ Rainy exclaims.'” Rainy corrects herself.
“Churro nods. ‘Yes, you are!’” Churro replies.
They burst out laughing.

smalltoe

Weekly
2376 words total

Part 1
480 words

Song: the last great american dynasty

Rebekah watched the countryside slip past from the train’s murky window.

The clouds had cleared since she’d begun her trip, a little over an hour ago. The sunlight poured in through the glass, glinting off the rings on her fingers. She studied them idly, clasping her delicate hands.

She didn’t often travel by train. In fact, the first time she’d been one was when she’d moved from her childhood home to her late husband’s estate, many years ago. She hadn’t set foot upon one since — until now.

Now, she was going back to the coast, taking his money and his things and his casket with her.

The train juddered beneath her, and although she was discomfited by the unfamiliar sensation, she remained poised, collected, composed. Despite the fact there was no-one to watch her.

- - -

Her sister was waiting for her at the station.

“Constance,” Rebekah greeted, primly.

“Bekka?” Constance’s voice was an accusing whisper. “You’ve changed.”

Rebekah nodded.

“What happened at that estate? I told you you never should have left!” Constance seized Rebekah’s hand, examining her sister’s gold, silver, gemstone rings.

“It was a heart attack. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Not about your husband. What happened to you?”

Rebekah paused. She opened her mouth, before closing it again. Her proper manner slipped for a moment.

“I… I don’t know,” she answered, finally.

“You never would’ve wanted this when we were kids. You abhorred the idea of being a proper little lady, Bekka. You were so stubborn, too. I truly believed they wouldn’t have been able to break you like this.” Constance turned away.

Rebekah stayed silent.

“They never liked you, did they? Your late husband’s family, I mean,” Constance began, rifling through her purse, eyes fixed on her shoes. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular, Rebekah knew. Her sister fiddled with things when she was nervous, Rebekah knew.

“Now they have something more to blame you for,” Constance continued. “They already think the worst of you. It would make no difference if you returned to your old ways. It could be like when we were kids, all over again.”

“Perhaps.”

“Why do you care what they think?” Constance turned back to her sister. “I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

Rebekah didn’t answer, and with a sigh, Constance began to walk away, setting a brisk pace. “I have your room ready. I’ll show you to it. You know where to find me if you need me.”

Rebekah nodded, her head high, her posture perfect.

And although Constance didn’t see it, Rebekah shook her rings free from her fingers, letting them fall to the ground.

She stepped on her wedding ring as she walked away, following her sister. Her heel dug the fragile gold into the dirt, crushing its once-perfect shape.

A faint smile played across her red-tinted lips, and she didn’t look back once.

Part 2
474 words from answers

Name: Rebekah
Nickname/s: Bekka (childhood nickname that her sister called her)
Pronouns: she/her
Age: Thirties
Appearance: Dark brunette hair, blue-green eyes. Pale skin from being kept inside for too long, but when she was a child she was always tanned from the sun. Long limbs. Sharp facial features. Often has eye bags. Manicured, perfectly shaped fingernails, but not often painted. Naturally dark eyelashes. Often wears red lip gloss. Has somewhat crooked teeth, so usually smiles with her mouth closed.
Physical characteristics: Delicate, yet nimble. Perfect, straight-backed posture, always holding her head high. Constantly tensed, as if waiting to spring into action. Maintains this posture, even when sitting and moving. Walks fast, with long steps.
When relaxed — when sitting, she sprawls, at once looking elegant and at ease. If she’s in a chair, she’ll often sit with her legs over one of the chair’s arms. When walking, she’ll walk with slow, long steps, looking as if she has all the time in the world. She tends to make it seem like she’s above everyone else, no matter what their social standing really is in relation to hers.
As a child, she was constantly in motion. She loved to run, climb trees and rocks. She always seemed to have wet hair, from either swimming in the sea or a lake or river.
As a teenager, she got into acting and dance. She could easily convincingly replicate others’ posture, or convey emotions through the way she moved.
Sexuality: Bi
Strengths: She’s a very good actor, and has a gift for lying, trickery and scheming. She used to enjoy pulling pranks on her friends and sister as a child — and as she grew into an adult, her pranks turned into more serious plots. She has incredible balance, and can move almost silently. She’s strong-willed and stubborn, and she makes sure she gets what she wants. She either loves people fiercely, or not at all. She’s very observant, and is good at discerning people’s plans and motives, as well as being able to pick up on small details others may not notice.
Weaknesses: She tends to think only of herself. She’s often reckless. She won’t hesitate to use others to help her get what she wants, often without them knowing — she’ll drag people into her plots, and into danger, without much regard for anyone else’s feelings. She doesn’t apologise. She tends to get under people’s skin, make them feel uneasy, and she’s made many enemies. She makes quick, impulsive decisions, and once she has a plan, she won’t consider other options. She’s set in her ways, and doesn’t like being told she’s wrong. She can sometimes take things too far. She holds grudges, and doesn’t often show mercy. And if she’s been in a role too long, she can find it hard to remember who she used to be.
Quirks: She knows how to dye a dog key-lime green

Part 3
791 words total

Main motive/s: making a name for herself, feeling like she belongs, not feeling inconsequential, and leaving a legacy behind her.

Scenario one
308 words

Rebekah as a child, wanting to find a place for herself onstage and exploring her frustration at feeling like she doesn’t belong.

“Bekka? Bekka? What are you doing up there?”

The wind snatched Constance's voice as she staggered up the trail to the clifftop.

“I come up here to think sometimes,” Rebekah called back. She was perched atop the rocky outcrop that jutted out above the cliff-face, wind whipping her hair around her face. The sea crashed against the cliff's edge far, far below.

“God, Bekka, you sound like a character in a novel.” Constance couldn't disguise the relief on her face, running the rest of the trail and scrambling up onto the rocks beside her sister.

She paused, catching her breath for a moment.

“What happened?” Constance asked, finally.

“I didn't get the role I auditioned for,” Rebekah muttered. “Because the director doesn't like me.”

“I'm sure that's not true. Besides, you auditioned for a male part.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Rebekah spat. “I have the right vocal range!”

“You know the director casts male actors for male roles. Why didn’t you just audition for a girl?”

“Why should I have to?” Rebekah paused, before continuing. “The only thing they look for when casting girls is if they’re pretty enough, anyway. I wanted to show them I have talent. That I can act in a whole range of different roles, just as good as the boys. That I’m not just a pretty face. But it must not have worked.”

“I always said that one day, one of your plans wouldn’t work,” Constance mused. “But you’ll find a way to get what you want. You always do.”

“Yeah. I’ll find a way.” Rebekah gave her sister a strained smile. “They don’t want me there, anyway. At the theatre. I’ve heard the others talking. They call me peculiar. Shameless. Rebellious.”

“I’m not surprised, honestly.” Constance returned Rebekah’s smile. “But I’d describe you as more of a revolutionary.”

Scenario two
288 words

Rebekah at her husband’s estate. Her life is stifling, suffocating. She wants – no, she needs – to escape.

Dinner at the estate was always the same.

Three courses, laboriously prepared by the private chef. The finest ingredients, as delicious as they were expensive. Different wines to go with each one.

Rebekah hated it.

This lifestyle was suffocating her. Trapped in this grand, lifeless estate, and the tedious routine that came with it. Stuck in her role of the proper, socially acceptable lady.

She had a plan, when she agreed to this. She decided she was playing the long game. She hadn’t known, then, just how long it would feel.

Ever so slowly, she was losing herself.

What am I doing with my life? Rebekah thought desperately. I was meant for more than this. I’m sure of it.

All she said aloud was, “This fish is simply delightful.”

And, “So is the wine, in fact. You should try some. Let me pour it for you.”

Her smile was sweet, innocent, as she stood and made her way over to her husband’s place at the table, bottle in hand.

The decision had been an impulsive one. But Rebekah found that most of her best decisions had been made spontaneously.

I am going to reclaim my life, she whispered to herself, as she poured the bloodred wine into her husband’s glass. I will get out of here. I will fulfil my wicked potential. And if I’m found out, well, at least I’ll have left a legacy behind me.

A tremble of Rebekah’s hand, and the bottle went tumbling to the floor. There was shattered glass and soaked clothes and horrified exclamations, and amid the commotion, no-one noticed the poor clumsy lady slip the powder from her pocket into her husband’s drink.

The dose would be the first of many.

Scenario three
195 words

Rebekah in the aftermath of her husband's death, trying to figure out what to do with her life.

The sea looked so calm from up here.

Rebekah paced the rocks of the cliff-top, staring out at the horizon. This place was so familiar it made her chest ache. It looked exactly the same as it had when she was a child. Yet she was so different.

She always had a plan. But now, she didn’t know what to do.

It scared her.

Abruptly, a memory came back to her. Sitting on these rocks. Talking to her sister. Wishing for a place onstage. Wanting to fulfil her potential, despite not fitting in.

She felt so distant from her past self. But she could still remember the thrill of the theatre’s curtains opening, the dazzling lights, the deep breath before the opening note. She remembered the adrenalin thrumming through her veins at being onstage, how alive it made her feel.

Since then, Rebekah’s pranks had turned to plots, her love of acting to a habit of lying. She had let her roles and her schemes consume her – and she had lost herself in the process.

She was meant for more. She knew it.

But how could she find her place? How could she find herself?

Part 4
631 new words

Dinner at the estate was always the same.
Three courses, laboriously prepared by the private chef. Always with the finest ingredients, the exotic meats and extravagant dishes as rich and delicious as they were expensive. Different wines to go with each.
Rebekah always ate everything on her plate, but never drank too much wine. She always made sure to be ladylike and proper, but still likeable. She always held her head high, but never looked down on others, always sat straight-backed, but never stiff-backed.
She hated it.
She hated it as much as she hated the grand, lifeless mansion, the tedious routine, her perfectly-played role of her husband’s perfect lady. This lifestyle suffocated her as much as her tightest corset did.
She had a plan, when she agreed to this. A strategy. She thought it wouldn’t be so bad, that she could make it work out in her favour, like she had done with everything else. She had decided, back then, that she was playing the long game.
She hadn’t known just how long it would feel.
And ever so slowly, she was losing herself along the way.
What am I doing with my life? Rebekah thought to herself, one lonely night. I was meant for more than this. I’m sure of it.
All her perfectly structured plans fell away, for the first time. She had to get out. There was no other choice.
She stared at the ceiling of her big, empty room and slowly, a new plan began to stitch itself together in her mind. Piece by piece, her escape – and her ruination – fell into place. The wheels of her plot began to turn, the chain reaction set in motion.
It would work, this time. She would regain control of her life – even if she destroyed it in the process.
That night, she sat at the dinner table with her perfect posture and impeccable table manners, and orchestrated her husband's demise.
Her dress was a perfect winter-morning white. The bottle of bloodred wine was within reaching distance. Her own glass was full and her husband’s was empty; the servants weren’t around; her pockets were lined with powder. Fine, dissolvable, deadly powder.
It hadn’t taken long to prepare – Rebekah had always prided herself on her resourcefulness. All she had to do now was wait for an opening.
Finish your food, she thought to herself. Bide your time. Don’t let your hand shake while holding your cutlery. Don’t make eye contact but don’t avoid it either. Ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the tightness in your chest, the spinning of your head. There’s no going back now.
“How do you find the fish?” Her husband’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts.
She looked up, a slight smile playing across her lips. “It’s simply delightful.”
Her face betrayed nothing.
“Really? I thought it tasted… well, I don’t know. A little off.” The man wrinkled his nose.
A pause.
He continued. “I’m feeling a tad nauseous, too. Light-headed, perhaps. I’m not entirely sure why.”
A familiar rush of triumph swept over Rebekah. Oh, how she had missed this game. She let the wave carry her, flooding her doubts in the pounding adrenalin of winning.
But it wasn’t over yet. She had another move to make.
“Well, the wine is wonderful. You should try some – it might make you feel better.” Rebekah stood. “Let me pour it for you.”
Her smile was sweet, innocent, as she stood and made her way over to her husband’s place at the table, bottle in hand. Her other hand was in her pocket.
I am going to reclaim my life, she whispered to herself, as she poured the dark wine into her husband’s glass. I will get out of here. I will fulfil my wicked potential. And if I’m found out, well, at least I’ll have left a legacy behind me.
No going back now.
A tremble of Rebekah’s hand, and the bottle went plummeting to the floor. Glass shattered against the tiles and red spilled across the floor, splashing her white dress, the white tablecloth. Rebekah gasped, reached towards her husband in shock and apology – as she sprinkled the powder from her pocket, that was now all over her fingers, into the waiting wineglass.
Her husband pushed her hand away, outrage and disgust painted in sharp lines across his face.
Rebekah went to her knees, grasping at the mess, glass piercing her stained skirts.
Her husband picked up his glass and drank deeply. He watched his wife scrambling at the ground, sweeping up the shattered bottle and pooling bloodred liquid. Servants skidded into the room, arms full of cleaning gear – in perfect time to bear witness to what would happen next.
The man’s face turned sour.
“This wine tastes off, too.”
They were the last words that left his lips, before he crumpled to the ground.

Last edited by smalltoe (Nov. 9, 2023 06:28:39)

autumn_breeze08

11/9 word war, 166 words
again please forgive my misspellings typing fast is hard

“Look at that pretty robin flying around!” called Evelyn. “Its so pretty!” “Of course it is, its' a robin,” Ana rolled her eyes. “THey're all pretty in your opinion.” Evelyn pouted, but she couldn't protest that statement. It was pretty true, considering how many animals she liked. Every onther little bug or bird or creature was her new favorite. And don't even get her started on puppies. They were like little fluffy balls of cuteness, she practically melted every time she saw one. Puppies were her favorite…
“Your'e thinking about puppies again, aren'tt you,” Ana laughed when she saw Evelyn's face.
“Of course!” Evelyn repleid. They're so cute, and sweet, and lovable!“
Ana laughed, and just couldn't stop. ”YOu are so rdiculous,“ she laughed. ”Most people don't do this, you know. They just say that puppies are cute and move on with life. THis is so funny,"
Eveyln agreed, but that didn't change her mind. THere would be puppies, and she would love them so much.

-NightGlow-

Weekly 1

Part 1:
word count - 280

Song - A Place in the World

Chosen lyrics: “Don't know what's down this road”, “I'm alone, on my own”, “Trying to find a place in this world”, “Could you tell me what more do I need?”, “I'll be strong, I'll be wrong”

Lilliana trudged down the empty road, finding herself alone with the raining sky when everyone else seemed to have taken shelter inside. It was on these days that she took some time to reflect - the rain was there to help wash away her sins and start anew. She would sit by the lake during these times and watch as the rain gracefully plummeted towards the water; creating ripples of commotion, to finally settle it. Her life was pretty much the same. Like the water, the obstacles in her life settled in under the surface, and never came out to see the light of day from thereafter.

Nevertheless, Lilliana somehow managed to always bury these fears, these worries deep down, and continue on with her life - as if nothing had happened.

“I need to put on a brave face. No one can know what’s going on in my life.” she would say to herself while looking at the mirror in her small bathroom.

“My life at home is a mess, and it just feels like I don’t have a place at school. But nobody needs to know that. Even though I feel like ending it all at times, the rain gives me hope to keep going.”

Soon after spending some time in the rain, Lilliana rushed back home, getting ready to meet her only friends. She slowly walked towards the ice cream parlor nearby and saw her group of friends there, all huddled up together.

“Hi, Lilliana!” one of them called out from a booth that already seemed occupied by others. “How are you?”

“Everything’s great! I’m doing perfectly fine.” she replied hesitantly, with an enthusiastic touch in her voice.

Part 2: Character Sheet
word count - 144

Name: Lilliana
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: Cisgender female
Birthday: April 29, 2008
Species: Human
Family members: Mom, Dad, younger sister, and younger brother
Strengths: avid listener, very smart and talented in numerous different things, on top of everything despite having a lot to do, ability to care for others, seems “perfect” to others, involved in a variety of activities
Weaknesses: easily offended, worried about being judged, quirky in ways, bossy in leadership roles (from time to time)
Tendencies: puts others before herself at times, puts a lot of pressure on herself to be the best, tends to keep all her emotions bottled up - not sharing them with others, gets mad at herself from time to time, spends time in nature to “keep her cool”, wants to feel loved by someone, try to live by what she thinks are others’ expectations for her (only puts more stress on herself)

Part 3: Character Motivations
word count - 513 words

Scenario 1: 174 words
The voice echoed in her head, the screaming, voices of agony crying out - it felt as if her world was coming to an unfortunate, yet timely end. The thunderous roars of anger plummeted down on Liliana. She struggled to breathe, to find a reason - a purpose to continue on with her journey in life. She rushed up the stairs and fell onto her bed, bawling her eyes out wondering what she did to deserve such a thing. Her parents were fighting for the second time this week, and all her siblings did was make it worse.

“Why can’t they just understand and behave normally for once?” Lilliana screamed in her head. With clenched fists, she wrapped her light teal blanket around her body in an attempt to calm herself down. But, as the screams coming from downstairs grew louder, she began to feel more faint. It was like a continuous cycle, one that was happening more frequently now. She had tried to interfere, but like always, it never worked - and now. Now it’s happening…

Scenario 2: 178 words
In class, I always feel like I have to hold back. When I was in elementary school many people would make fun of me for being a teacher’s pet. At the time, I honestly didn’t mind too much because it felt good to be a favorite. But with that feeling of greatness, also came some sense of loneliness. I don’t exactly know what it was, but it felt like everyone hated me for some reason. To them, I was this huge show-off drawing to outdo everyone, but that was nothing even close to the truth.

I learn because I’m passionate. After all, I want to be the best version of myself. Honestly, though, it truly hurts that all people see me as if some wannabe perfect girl, who has an amazing life. The walls of expectations from both school and my parents have grown around me over the years. Every little mistake on a test, assignment, or whatever it may be - I criticize myself hard. Not because I’m a perfectionist, although I might be one, but because I care.

Scenario 3: 161 words
As the rain plummeted down from the sky, the echoing roars of thunder covered the night breeze. All felt so calm from the inside, but from the outside, only havoc rose. Everyone went inside to seek some shelter, to admire the rain from afar, rather than actually being it. Lilliana, though, did the exact opposite. She wasn’t crazy enough to literally stand outside and get sick, but she did in fact open her window to hear the beautiful sounds of spattering on her already battered window. Being able to see the rain glide across the glass on her window, with such grace - gave it such a meaning of innocence. As the tears dripped down her eyes, Lilliana cowered in the darkness of her room. All these thoughts and memories just flashed through her head, it felt so humbling, yet at the same time, acted as a weight pulling her down - being a barrier, an obstacle stopping her from continuing on with pride.

Part 4: Expanded Scenario
word count - 504 words

As the rain plummeted down from the sky, the echoing roars of thunder covered the night breeze. All felt so calm from the inside, but from the outside, only havoc rose. Everyone went inside to seek some shelter, to admire the rain from afar, rather than actually being it. Lilliana, though, did the exact opposite. She wasn’t crazy enough to literally stand outside and get sick, but she did in fact open her window to hear the beautiful sounds of spattering on her already battered window. Being able to see the rain glide across the glass on her window, with such grace - gave it such a meaning of innocence. As the tears dripped down her eyes, Lilliana cowered in the darkness of her room. All these thoughts and memories just flashed through her head, it felt so humbling, yet at the same time, acted as a weight pulling her down - being a barrier, an obstacle stopping her from continuing on with pride.

Huddled under the warmth of her blanket, she wiped away the rush of tears that were dripping down her face. She wanted them to stop. Needed them to stop. But for some reason, they just continued falling - having no clear end. Her throat felt stuck, as if someone has was holding her voice in their hand, stopping her from speaking up. No matter how many times she tried to let out a sound, the screams of her voice were lost in the night. It hurt to have a constant expectation to live up to. Everyone was always expecting her to be happy - it truly hurt. She kept her feelings all bottled up, and it was on these days that the bottle would break.

All of her emotions which have intensified over time, all of them came flooding out, causing her even more pain. At school, it felt like everyone was judging. Lilliana would often question what she did wrong - did people just hate her for being too smart? Most people called her a pick-me, and honestly, all these false expectations began to settle in. The stresses in her life, something she never shared out loud. They were getting to her, and fast.

It felt as if her time was coming to an end. As if the plausible choice was to finish it all and come to terms with peace. But she wanted a future to look up to - something that would take her through the hardships, and guide her through those difficult times. It came with a realization that everyone is struggling. We all have these feelings that we keep bottled up inside, and more or so a secret part of our lives that we don’t tell anyone. The judging had to stop, but what could she do? These were the thoughts that went through her head amidst the rain.

As puddles began forming, Lilliana paid closer attention to the droplets plunging into the water. The dispersed droplets caused such commotion, yet somehow, ended up settling in under the surface. It was as if their “pre-coded” cycle was just being followed all the time. Droplets would fall, gather into one huge cloud, and eventually, just break from the weight and rain once again. Knowing this fact is truly the reason why Lilliana lived in the rain. It gave her a sense of belonging. It helped her feel like she belonged, like other people were going through the same thing as her; that she wasn’t alone in this scary journey. Things come to an end all the time, but this bit of peace, the beauty of nature, is what kept her going. As the rain continued to pour done, Lilliana felt calm, like her voice was no longer stuck, she could just speak her mind. Her eyes wanted to close so badly, but she couldn’t just sleep. This was her time, the rare occasion where she could just let it all out. It had to be used effectively, who knew when it would rain again…

Last edited by -NightGlow- (Nov. 9, 2023 21:47:33)

hamilchaos

weekly #1 – 1618 words

part 1 - inspiration - 355 words
- song i got: red
- lyrics chosen:
Losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like tryin' know somebody you never met
But loving him was red

“Are you… alright?” Leanna held Hope’s hand as she took a deep breath.
“No. I still can’t get over it.” Hope whispered.
“It’s gonna be fine. I’m right here with you to help you make it.” Leanna tried to encourage her.
“You don’t get it. He was special to me. But you wouldn’t know.” Hope hissed at her. “And you being here telling me ‘it’s gonna be fine’ is not gonna help, you understand me?” She added. “So stop. Please.”
Leanna decided to listen to Hope. She gathered strength to say what was on her mind. “You know what, you’re right. I’ll let you cope with it.” She scoffed. “Since you can do it all alone, why don’t you? I’ll go away if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, that’s what I want.”
Immediately after saying this, Hope knew she regretted it. “Why can’t I ever think before saying something?”, she thought. But it was too late. She ran home. Processing the loss of her brother was gonna be tough, but she definitely couldn’t do it without Leanna.
However, here she was five years later. She still thought about her brother almost every night, and her synesthesia perceptions had only become stronger since the day of the accident. Right there, there it was. Him, just a high schooler living his life, a car and a careless driver is all it took. Each time she relived that moment, there it was. A deep shade of blue filled her thoughts.
Then after that was the funeral, she watched everyone mourning. She felt that point of her life was meaningless, just plain gray.
Her parents moving on, her getting another sibling… but it was not the same thing, she didn’t forget. She couldn’t. It was just impossible.
Recalling her memories with him brought her joy. Them riding on a two-seat bike, playing tag, and playing with dirt were their favorite things to do together. Evoking these memories was her favorite thing to do when she couldn’t sleep, especially because of what colors her mind perceived when thinking about him. An intense, striking, burning red, which was his favorite color.

part 2 - character sheet - 121 words
- total words: 121
- answer words: 105

Name: Hope Wagner White
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her
Height: Tall
Nationality: American
Personality type: ISTP-T
Strengths: Independent, brave, strong, caring, creative, straightforward, extremely loyal, reliable, cautious, eager
Weaknesses: Mindful, clingy, reckless, overbearing, insecure, doesn't think before saying something, impatient
Tendencies: She tends to close up and hide her feelings, she’d rather spend time alone than go out with friends. If one of her close friends or family gets hurt, she will try to avenge them. She is very protective. Her mood can change very quickly and she doesn't talk much.
Speech: Hope talks quickly and softly, and just says what she needs to say.
Hobbies: Reading, photography, swimming, lettering, camping
Fears: Heights
Favorite foods: Mangoes, rice, chicken nuggets

part 3 - three scenes - 474 words total
- first scene: 156 words
- second scene: 152 words
- third scene: 166 words

Hope closed her fists. Once she arrived at the scene, it was too late. There were ambulances. They took her unsuspecting little brother away, forever. She would never see him again. And that hurt. She wanted to find the culprit of this, the driver of this car, the one that also took part of her. Hope seeked vengeance, and was willing to do anything to get it. Her friends told her to move on, her family told her to move on, even a little piece of her wanted to move on too. She would resist.
The search took her a long time. Trying to remember every single detail, like the license plate or color of the car, Hope basically lived in her computer. Investigating everything, researching the Internet for any information she could find about it, like news articles. She couldn’t find anything, but she wouldn’t give up, and most importantly, she wouldn’t let this go.

“Hope, honey, you haven’t eaten for days… Come down, eat dinner with us- I’ll make you tacos” Hope’s mom yelled, knowing tacos were her favorite food. However, not even that would make her desist in her search. “You’re gonna have to eat eventually, you know?”
Hope persisted.
“You don’t get it!” She snapped. “Nobody does.” The girl murmured.
It seemed like her mom gave up, at least for that day. And Hope was already planning what she’d say to her if she came back to talk to her. She felt frustrated, her extensive search was not showing any results.
Exhausted from not doing anything else for 3 days, she laid on her bed looking at the ceiling. She realized she was actually hungry. Maybe she wasn’t in the mood for tacos, but she definitely wanted some. Or maybe she just needed sleep. Perhaps, mangoes. “Mangoes are the solution to everything”, she thought.

Hope was overtaken by an impulse.
She’d finally found him, the driver of that fateful day. She had found him online and asked him to meet up, hoping everything would go well. She was very nervous, and almost decided not to go, but then remembered this was for the best. She would finally be able to find out the truth… and then what? “I am not gonna resent him forever, am I?” Hope said to herself. She instantly found the answer. “Yes, yes I will. But this needs to happen. I can’t just live like this forever”.
There he was. And immediately after she saw him, without even saying a word, her hand acted on its own. He fell to the floor, unconscious. There was nothing she could do now. She had let her anger and desire for vengeance gain control of her and her body. Three seconds had passed and she already regretted it. “*, *, *” she thought. “Am I going to jail now?”

part 4 - expanded scenario - 668 words
- scene chosen to continue: scene 3
- character sheet references are highlighted in bold

Standing in front of someone who’d passed out was not what Hope expected to do that afternoon. She had imagined herself talking to him peacefully, even if she was outraged on the inside. Yet, there she was, not knowing what would happen if someone saw her. Who could she even ask for advice? Her parents didn’t know (and probably wouldn’t like it) that she met up with a stranger on the internet. Her friends didn’t think she was capable of punching someone in the face and leaving them unconscious. There was no one Hope could turn to… and then she remembered. A long time ago, there was a conversation with an old friend, someone that made her furious back then and had caused her to cease communication. Someone that used to be a good friend of hers, someone she had left because of her brother’s death. “Parker wouldn’t want this,” she reminded herself. “Parker would want me to be happy.” She sighed. “Now, what is Leanna’s phone number again?”
Hope tapped the “Call” button. She hoped Leanna’s number stayed the same. Otherwise, she’d be stuck.
The girl waited patiently for one, two, three, seconds. A familiar voice gasped.
“Hello?” Leanna answered the call.
“Um, hey-” Hope muttered.
“Hope?!” Leanna recognized the girl’s voice immediately. “I didn’t think I would hear from you again.” She admitted.
“I didn’t think so either… but here we are.” Hope stated, tense. “Listen, I need your help with something.” She added, fidgeting with her shirt.
Leanna took a few seconds to respond, yet for Hope these moments felt like an eternity.
“Yeah, I’m down!” Leanna exclaimed, back to her usual enthusiasm.
“Wait, really?” Hope gasped. “I - I didn’t think you’d want to -”
“Do you even know me? I’m always willing to help people.” Leanna joked.
“Perhaps years of not talking affected me”. Hope laughed, finally feeling comfortable in the conversation.
“What do you need me to do?” Leanna asked.
“I kind of. Punched a guy in the face?” She stuttered, not knowing how her friend was going to react. After a pause, she continued. “And he’s on the floor- also, he might be unconscious…?”
“…You kinda need to call the ambulance.” Leanna noted. “But I can go over there right now if you want?”
“Of course, how did I not notice that?” Hope blamed herself. Now she was gonna go to jail because of murder. “What a great day I’m having”, she thought sarcastically. She gave Leanna the address.
“I’m not sure why you’d want to come.” Hope shrugged.
“I don’t know either.” Leanna told her.
At this point, a few minutes had passed since the guy passed out. Leanna had arrived and she and Hope had called an ambulance. They told the paramedics he had fallen to the floor in front of their eyes and they instantly called the ambulance. “Just a teeny tiny lie.” Leanna whispered to Hope as the ambulance drove off.
Hours later, Hope still wasn’t at peace. She decided it was best for her to visit the guy at the hospital to check up on him. “How ironic”, she thought. Going to the hospital to see if her brother’s killer was alive and well. Despite being very protective and wanting to avenge her brother, she still was caring for other people.
She took a deep breath as she walked through the hospital door. Everything there was bright white, straining her eyes. “Who decided white was a calming color?” She wondered.
Hope walked up to the receptionist, working out the courage to ask in which room Mark Sanchez was staying in. Fear filled her eyes as she heard “Room 617, by the balcony.” The young girl behind the front desk replied joyfully.
“You are kidding me.” Hope had to refrain from screaming out loud. “Thanks”, she said instead and smiled at the girl.
She knew she had to do this. She would have all the time in the elevator ride to floor 6 to beat her fear of heights.

booklover883322

Weekly 1
Total Word Count: 1743/1250
Part One Word Count: 360/200
Part Two Word Count: 124/100
Part Three Word Count: A: 259/150 B: 218/150 C: 256/150
Part Four Word Count: 526/500
Date Completed (for me): 11/9/23
Time Completed (UTC): 11:38pm
Time Completed (MST): 4:38pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/

Part One: TS lyrics inspiration
Lyrics Used: Welcome to New York
When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors

Like any real love, it's ever-changing

But you know you wouldn't change anything, anything, anything

Leilani gingerly stepped out of the taxi, London climbing out after her. The lights buzzed, drawing her attention every which way.
She sighed and reached for London’s hand, and the two went onto the sidewalk, awed by the scenery.
London let out a breath, “Wow. This place is… something.”
Leilani nodded, “Yeah… it’s a lot different than back home.”
The couple began to walk, Leilani’s heeled boots striking the ground with a loud click. London’s tan coat flowed about his figure as he strolled along. Leilani’s breath puffed out into the frigid night air.
She looked at London, “So, the restaurant we want to go to is right down there.” She pointed down the street, and he nodded. “And after that?”
She shrugged, “We could go to the new apartment.”
He nodded, “I suppose that we could do that, but didn’t you want to see some other things?”
Her head shook, “I’m alright. The jet lag is doing wonders on my brain, so the only thing I can really deal with right now is food.”
He laughed, a deep, hearty sound. “Okay, sounds good.” He led her to the restaurant, glad to spend time with her.

The couple exited the establishment, full and ready to make their way to their new home. Leilani hailed a taxi, and the two were soon dropped off in front of the apartment building. It was nothing special, but the two climbed the steps joyfully, excited for this new change.
“I wonder what the view will be like.” Leilani said, skipping over the steps.
“I’m not sure. Hopefully, when my parents visit next month they’ll be somewhat impressed.”
She laughed, “Let’s hope so.”
They got to the door and London pulled out the key they had been received in the mail back in Kansas. He slid it into the lock and soon, they were standing in their new home. London suddenly pulled Leilani into a hug, which startled her a bit. London grinned and squeezed her, “I’m excited for what this has in store.”
Her voice, muffled a bit because her face was firmly planted into his shoulder, sounded, “Me too.”

Part two: Character Sheet
Full Name: Leilani Johnson
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight
Strengths: Joyful, hard-working, enthusiastic, glass-half-full outlook
Weaknesses: Can’t stand up for herself, often doubts herself
Ethnicity: Italian
Physical Characteristics: Strawberry blond hair, heels, striking blue eyes, long acrylic nails, statement earrings
Hobbies: Baking, cooking, coding
Occupation: Software Engineer
Skills: Very logical, organized, goal-oriented, and motivated
Goals: To settle into her new home and to make new friends
Personality: Leilani is a very serious and soft-spoken person. She adores the people around her and loves things that are familiar to her. She sometimes finds it hard to understand sarcasm but does her best. She loves giving people gifts and sharing stories. Leilani has a tendency to let herself get walked all over by people around her, but has been trying to stand up for herself more at her partner’s request.
Birthday: July 30th

Part Three: Motivations
A:
Leilani nervously sifted the powdered sugar into the bowl, muttering to herself about needing to create an event calendar for herself. The cupcakes were baking in the tiny oven to her left, and now she had to make the frosting.
London strode into the kitchen and hugged her from behind.
“Hey-!” She exclaimed, surprised.
He chuckled, “Hiii. Whatcha doing?”
She rolled her eyes, continuing to work even with his arms around her, “Making frosting for the cupcakes.”
“Ooh, I like cupcakes. Can I have some?”
“No, they’re for this work potluck thing that I’m supposed to make the dessert for.”
London nodded, “Sounds very serious.”
“Yes, very serious.” She said, reaching for the butter.
He made a face, rocking her back and forth a little, “But why? It’s not like it’s the Great British Baking Show or anything. You don’t have to make them perfectly.”
She was annoyed, “Yes I do. My manager said that I had to make them super well.”
“What does he even know? He’s the manager of a team coding an app, not Gordan Ramsey.”
She shrugged, “Even someone who’s never cooked before could tell when a cupcake is good or bad.”
He copied her movement, “But still, it’ll be fine.”
“Well, yeah… but I just want to make a good impression.”
“You already did. You’ve been working there for a few weeks now. Everybody’s gotten used to you by now.”
She didn’t think so. She didn’t reply, shrugging him off. She began to whip the butter. She WOULD make a good impression. She would.

B:
Leilani walked up the steps to the apartment building, desperately hoping that this would all go well. She held the tray of cupcakes in her hands and balanced them precariously on one hand as she knocked on the door of apartment 26. The door opened, and a tall woman smiled at her. Her hair was braided into many long braids that were about as thick as a pencil. Her darker complexion well complemented the mellow yet lighter colors she wore.
“Hello Leilani. Thanks for coming!” She said, beaming.
Leilani smiled nervously, walking inside. “Thank you.”
She glanced around and looked for a table to set the cupcakes on, but she saw none. Not wanting to look stupid to the woman, she tried looking for it, wandering in and out of the doors to look for a place.
“Um, Miss, you can just set those on the island.” She gestured to the counter in the middle of the kitchen.
Leilani blushed, “Oh, thank you Gina. Sorry.” She put them down and nervously adjusted them so they looked good.
Gina smiled at her, “No problem. Could you help me get some things set up?”
Leilani nodded and began to help her colleague with what she could. Gina was a sweet lady. Maybe they could be friends. That would be nice.

C:
Leilani looked up from her computer after hearing footsteps. There stood her boss, a tall and imposing man. She waved sheepishly, “Hi. Um… do you need anything?”
He nodded, “Yes, that would be great. Could I see your graphics that you told me that you would show me?”
Leilani cringed a little at how deep and booming his voice was. “S-sure. Just one moment.” She opened a tab and loaded the images that she needed.
Bryan looked them over, making little clicks with his tongue critically as he looked at the soft pink lines and boxes, “Are you sure you want that page to look so… feminine?”
She nodded, “Um, yes? I think it looks good and matches with the rest of the colors we picked out for the rest of the app.”
He scrunched up his nose, “But pink? How about purple? How would it look in purple?”
He made a few adjustments to the images, and he nodded in approval, proud of himself. “I like those.”
“Really?” She didn’t think they looked very good.
“Yes, really, they look much, much better than before. I can hardly tell I’m looking at the same thing.”
She took in a breath. She really didn’t think that color looked good. “Um… I liked the pink better.”
He laughed, “Don’t worry, it’ll grow on you. Just send those over to me, alright?”
She nodded meekly, “Alright…”
He grinned, “Thanks.”
She watched him walk out. Okay, at least giving her opinion was progress. Maybe the purple would grow on her.

Part Four: Expanding on Scene B
Leilani walked up the steps to the apartment building, desperately hoping that this would all go well. She held the tray of cupcakes in her hands and balanced them precariously on one hand as she knocked on the door of apartment 26. The door opened, and a tall woman smiled at her. Her hair was braided into many long braids that were about as thick as a pencil. Her darker complexion well complemented the mellow yet lighter colors she wore.
“Hello Leilani. Thanks for coming!” She said, beaming.
Leilani smiled nervously, walking inside. “Thank you.”
She glanced around and looked for a table to set the cupcakes on, but she saw none. Not wanting to look stupid to the woman, she tried looking for it, wandering in and out of the doors to look for a place.
“Um, Miss, you can just set those on the island.” She gestured to the counter in the middle of the kitchen.
Leilani blushed, “Oh, thank you Gina. Sorry.” She put them down and nervously adjusted them so they looked good.
Gina smiled at her, “No problem. Could you help me get some things set up?”
Leilani nodded and began to help her colleague with what she could. Gina was a sweet lady. Maybe they could be friends. That would be nice.

Gina handed Leilani a bottle of soda and asked her to put it on the island. She nodded and did as she said.
Gina turned to her, “Oh, also, could you get the bag of ice I bought from the fridge and put it out?”
“Of course.” She strolled on over to the fridge and took the heavy bag out of the compartment. She found a bowl and poured a bit into it, sticking a scoop in as well.
Gina looked back at her, “Ooh, that’s a good idea.”
Leilani grinned at her, happy to hear the praise. She set the bowl on the counter as the rest of her co-workers started to arrive.

Soon the place was buzzing with activity. People brought several different dishes, and soon the counter was crammed with soups and salads, and they all looked delicious.
Leilani got herself a cup of water and stood to the side. Gina walked over to her, “So, what do you think of the place?”
“I like it.” She replied, putting on a smile.
“Thanks! I just barely moved in a month ago.”
Leilani was curious, “Oh? I just moved here as well. Where were you from originally?”
“Ohio.” Gina replied, giggling. “It was so boring there, I just /had/ to get out, you know? I had to spice up my life when I got the chance, so I took it as soon as I could. Ohio’s alright but… you know?”
“Really? I’ve never been there. What’s it like?”
“Like I said, very, very boring. But it was a nice place otherwise. Had to leave a lot of friends behind.”
“Oh?”
Gina nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “Yeah, I had this one friend that I went to college with. She’s such a sweetheart. You’d like her, actually.”
“Really? That’s nice.”
Gina grinned, “Yeah, yeah, very nice. She was a communications major though, so we kinda split paths at some point. But she is still quite the nice person.”
Leilani nodded along, “Yeah, she seems like it.”
Gina copied her, “So, why’d you move here?”
“The job, as well as just wanting a fresh start.”
Gina nodded approvingly, “That’s great! I heard you talking about a husband. Did he move here with you?”
“Yep. Pretty much as soon as we got married we moved out here.”
Gina laughed, “Oh wow, sounds like some honeymoon. Some honeymoon indeed.”
She giggled, “No kidding. But it’s been fun, I wouldn’t change anything about our circumstances.”
Gina smiled, “I’m so glad.”
She beamed.
Gina stated, “Honestly, you are /so/ lucky that you moved out here with a partner. I’m out here allll alone, and kind of had to start from scratch.”
Before Leilani could reply, Gina’s attention was pulled elsewhere, and Leilani was left to just stand there. Again. The rest of the night she made small talk with some other people she was unfamiliar with. She had good food (as well as got some recipes for the dishes she tried) as well as great opportunities to make friends. She exchanged phone numbers with Gina, as well as a few other people.
The party was quite the success.

puffyfish

weekly 1 - characters
word count: 1555

part 1
word count: 217
song used: timeless (from the vault)

He stood in the doorway of the apartment, clutching his bag with a white-knuckled grip, his uniform rippling in the harsh wind. Outside, the sounds of car horns and people shuffling down crowded sidewalks filled the cold air, but for Steve, looking at Betty through tears for what might be the last time, the entire world seemed still and silent.
“I… oh, man. Do I really have to do this?”
“I know this is hard for all of us, but just… I– I’m sure we’ll see each other again. This won’t– this can’t end now.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Steve continued, not sure whether it was out of grief, love, fear, or desperation. “We could run away. We could go live somewhere else. We… oh, we both know that can’t really happen, can it? I guess this is just it.”
“Don’t say that. We’ll… you’ll come back.” With trembling hands, Betty took a small, crumpled picture out of her pocket, holding it out for Steve. It had been taken the previous year, and depicted the two standing on a bridge, smiling, Steve’s arm around her shoulders. He took it as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
“I really hope I will,” he said, and then, finally, stepped out the door.

part 2
word count: 107

Name: Steve
Age: 23
Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: straight
Personality type: ESFP
Lives: New York
Born: January 8, 1921; Chicago
Occupation: student; soldier
Appearance: pale skin, brown eyes, disheveled brown hair; prefers casual clothing when not at formal events or in his army uniform
Strengths: determined, loyal, trustworthy, easygoing
Weaknesses: indecisive, self-doubting, overly ambitious, insecure
Tendencies: can be committed to one single cause to the point of disregarding everything else, does not always see the good in himself and other people, will set impossible goals for himself and then berate himself when he can’t complete them, overthinks social situations and often sees them in the worst possible way

part 3
total word count: 645

scenario 1 - at the playground as a child
word count: 165

They were an odd bunch, the five children, sitting in a sandbox with their makeshift wooden shovels and pickaxes as if they were the most important people in the world, but when Steve played with them it was nearly the best feeling he had ever had in his life – and so when on one fateful rainy day, Steve’s parents came to him with their bags packed and informed him that he would, after tomorrow, never see these children again, he dug his feet into the sodden gravel of the playground and declared that he would never leave.
“I can’t,” Steve said matter-of-factly, and although he was just a child, his parents could not help but take him somewhat seriously, with the determined way he spoke. “They’re my friends. I can’t just… leave them.”
And, marveling at how his childish stubbornness had turned into something much, much more, Steve’s parents realized that it would be a lot harder to move him than they had anticipated.

scenario 2 - securing a bridge in the war
word count: 303
(tw: death, violence)

“So, have we got a plan?” asked Dustin, a young but eager soldier in Steve's team, as they crouched behind a small house, which in turn was behind a bridge being guarded by four German soldiers.
Steve paused - he had a tentative plan in his head, but felt that it might end up being too risky; and he knew he would never forgive himself if any of his fellow soldiers were harmed. In the end, he said:
“Well, I do, but some of us are gonna have to take a bit of a risk - I dunno if I want us doing that when there’s probably a better option.”
“With all due respect, we can’t just sit behind this house the whole day - any plan is better than no plan. What have you got?”
“I was thinking one of us - let’s say Daniel - could get a little closer and throw a grenade at those two fellows on the bridge, which could at least distract them; and then you and Chuck can go secure this side of the bridge, and maybe even take out the two guys on the other side while you’re at it.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Dustin, and Chuck, who had been listening from behind, nodded in approval as well.
So, after a minute, Steve gave the signal. Daniel ran over to the next building and threw the grenade towards the foot of the bridge - immediately knocking over the closer soldier, and leaving the other in confusion. Dustin and Chuck then ran forwards, guns at the ready, and then–
Bang– Dustin staggered, gasping and clutching his chest, and then fell backwards into the churning river.
And at that moment, knowing he could never be forgiven, Steve wanted to jump right in there and join him.

scenario 3 - talking to fellow students at university
word count: 177

Steve was nearing the end of his first month of college, and so far, things were not going so well - and when a group of students approached him at the end of class one day and told him that they wanted to be his friends, he wasn’t sure whether to believe them, trust them, or even talk to them at all.
“Hey,” one of them said to him as he was walking home from his last class, “you’re in one of my classes, right?”
Steve nodded, but warily speculated what the student’s motives might be.
“You… seem pretty cool. Do you think you’re free at all tonight?”
“I don’t think so, why?”
“I dunno; me and some of my friends might be going somewhere later – I was just wondering if you’d want to join us or anything.”
Quietly, Steve shook his head and walked away, wondering what those people had been trying to get out of him – and not once did he consider that, possibly, they might have actually wanted to be his friend.

part 4
scenario expanded on: 2
word count: 574
(tw: death, violence)

“Twenty seconds!” Steve yelled to the rest of his squad, having to scream at the top of his lungs to stop the roar of the plane’s engine from drowning out his words.
“Fifteen seconds until we jump!”
At ten seconds, he opened up the hatch, revealing a view that, in any other circumstances, would have been stunning to look at.
At five seconds, he scanned the faces of his squadmates - some looked nervous, some looked excited, and some simply looked eager to get everything over with.
“Four… three… two…”
One second before he jumped, Steve quietly promised himself that he would never let any harm befall any of his fellow soldiers.
He wasn’t sure if it was more for them or for himself.
-
About three hours later, Steve’s squad reached the bridge just as the sun was beginning to rise over the small town they had been trying to secure. So far, their mission had been going flawlessly - the next stage, however, was going to be the hard part. The bridge that they had to capture was being patrolled by four soldiers, two on each side, but they seemed to be more alert than was normal for the time of day - perhaps the noise caused by the skirmish the squad had gotten into earlier had alerted them. That would complicate things more, Steve thought as he inched his way closer to the bridge.
Dustin, a young and eager member of their squad, crouched right behind Steve, and leaned over his shoulder to ask: “So, have we got a plan?”
“Well, I do…”
-
Bang– and Steve watched with horror as Dustin gasped, grabbing at his chest, and then fell backwards into the churning river. Then Chuck, who had obviously not anticipated anything like this happening, froze for a moment – and that moment was enough for the German to take advantage. As Chuck fell, his gun spiraled out of control, wounding the enemy in the leg, but the damage had already been done.
Steve knew he should have started acting – should have ran to their aid, should have had a better plan to begin with – but all he could do was stand there, numb, knowing that the fault for what had happened laid on him alone, and there was nothing he could do to be forgiven. Out of the corner of his tear-filled eye, he saw that the two German soldiers from the other side of the bridge had come to their friend’s aid, and were now searching the area around the bridge to see if anyone remained for them to take out. Steve knew that he had to do something – and knew what would happen if he didn't – but simply continued standing there, frozen and shocked.
-
“Are you alright, sir?”
A harsh tap on the shoulder shocked Steve out of his misery, and he turned to find Daniel, looking at him in a concerned manner.
“I… I couldn’t keep them safe…”
“Steve!”
“…Yes?”
“Snap out of it! Do you know what’ll happen if you stay like this?”
“…”
“You’ll die, too! And so will I. Do you think Chuck or Dustin would have wanted that to happen?”
“I…”
“We need to finish this. For… for them.”
Steve thought of Dustin, dead at the bottom of the river, and of his friend Chuck, lying at the foot of the bridge. But now, somehow, that only made him want to fight harder.
“So, have we got a plan?”

Last edited by puffyfish (Nov. 9, 2023 23:43:20)

syrozenne

Word War
(210 words)
prompt — “we can't eat him, it's thursday”

Through their years of middle school together, Kian, Reed and Meyen had shared the same joke together; “We can't eat him, it's Thursday!” It became a habit to announce every time something happened, almost like a code between the three friends.

It started on the first week of grade 6. Reed tried to convince his friends to try a bite of his fried worms. Naturally, Kian and Meyen were instantly grossed out and refused, even if Reed kept insisting that it would be fun.

Suddenly, Meyen quickly yelled, “We can't eat him, it's Thursday!”

The joke actually made no sense, but it made the three of them laugh hysterically that it became something hard not to remember.

Throughout the years, the three friends had many adventures together, and the inside joke was often repeated when they were in funny or outrageous situations. Whenever one of the friends was about to do something silly, the other two would joke, “We can't eat him, it's Thursday!”

Not even a small bit of the joke made sense, yet it was still their way of reminding each other that no matter how wild the adventures got, they would always be there to support each other with a good laugh and enjoy each other's company.

-vanillamochabear-

part one: character inspiration
song: the lakes (i don’t really know the meaning of the lyrics so i’m just going for the vibe :.D)
take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you
There was the sound of a phone ringing. It went on for a little bit - about 3 little ring blocks, to be exact, before Meara finally set her book down and answered it.
“Hello?” she asked, holding it up to her ear while also fumbling with a bookmark.
“Meara! Hi! I was starting to think that you were busy,” came a warbled voice on the other line.
She smiled. “If by busy, you mean ‘busy reading’, you'd be correct. Come on, I never have anything going on!” there came a bit of a chuckle through the speaker.
“Anyway! I was wondering if you wanted to work on the homework together?”
“Oh, the homework?”
Lindsay cut in. “Yeah, we had –”
“I know, I did it already - I didn't expect anyone to want to do it with me!” she had actually finished it a couple hours back.
“Awh, you're really smart and kind - wait, wasn't it just assigned today?”
“Well, yes, but hear me out - I needed to get it done!” Meara said, “I wanted to leave a bit of time for me to do my writing,”
“Wow, writing, out of school?” Lindsay didn't sound shocked, though, she knew how creative her friend was.
Meara laughed. “It's good for you. Here, I'll help you with all the answers though!” she settled into an armchair. A part of her longed to go back into her book's fantasy world, but the other part of her wanted to interact with someone - anyone. She was so quiet all the time, that all her energy was bottled up inside her. Not that she didn't like it, but it felt good to be connected to the world every once in a while.
+284 words

part two: character sheet
name: Meara Meadows
age: fourteen, almost fifteen
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: bi
species: high school student
physical appearance: olive-colored skin, wavy light brown hair that is usually worn down (but not maintained very well), hazel eyes. kind of tall and athletic-ish. she has freckles on her cheeks and shoulders, but is kind of insecure about them. she likes wearing cool toned sweaters, sweatshirts, hoodies, and anything else baggy. prefers leggings with pockets, because sweatpants “feel weird”. doesn't really know how to do makeup but attempts eyeliner some days. she'll wear earrings, headbands, and bows sometimes, but doesn't put a lot of effort into how she looks.
personality: most people view her as quiet and smart. those close to her will say she's nice and comfortable to be around. she doesn't talk a lot unless she has to, and she's the quietest out of all her friends (causing them to not be that close). she tries to use schedules and planners, but forgets about them often. there's a whole shelf in her house for failed planners. nevertheless, she's still very organized and gets things done the moment they're assigned.
likes: rainy days (more specifically going on rainy walks), bugs, baking, singing (but never in front of others), nature, taylor swift
dislikes: social events, being lectured, spicy food
strengths: she's really good at debating (which she does rarely), and can always change someone's mind. good at listening to others, and empathetic, she can tell someone's emotions with a glance and knows exactly how to comfort them (too scared to approach, sadly). academically stable, lovely singing voice
weaknesses: really shy, doesn't speak up a lot. panics when teachers call on her, even if she knows the answer. she doesn't really jump at opportunities and ends up giving them to other people, even if she really wants it (can't say no). not brave, would probably end up running from her problems instead of solving them
motives: wants to find people she's comfortable around, if they exist. she enjoys peace and quiet, and spends a lot of time finding somewhere to be alone. would probably save herself first (most of her goals revolve around her self comfort, but she's not a bad person. just needs more people in her life)
+375 words

part three: character motives hmm i wrote this
1 - in class, not wanting to approach anybody
It was Monday. That was bad enough already, but Meara also happened to be in math class - her least favorite, by far. The numbers floated around in her head, as well as all the random words her teacher was throwing out. She had no idea what any of it meant. It reminded her of that one time she had tried to make chicken noodle soup - all the ingredients were there, but they were just drifting around aimlessly in the pot, not working out at all.
She was doodling stars and trees in her notebook, when her teacher cleared his throat really loudly.
“All right everyone - time for the partner activity!” Meara stopped. Not another partner activity…
Everyone around her chattered excitedly. They had friends to go to. But this was a new school for her, and even if it wasn't, she wouldn't've had high expectations. The sound of screeching chairs filled the room, and everybody scrambled to be with their preferred partners. She stood up too, kind of hoping that somebody would want to approach her. It never happened.
“Who doesn't have a partner yet?” Meara sank down in her seat, wanting to work alone, but he noticed her.
“Ah! Meara! How about you join these two lovely girls over here?” the girls in question eyed her unwelcomingly. Great, now she had to talk to two people - and they weren't pleased about it either.
+242 words

2 - trying to find her place at a party
The rainbow lights were dancing on the walls, flashing and changing colors at least a hundred times a second. The disco ball that was hanging from the ceiling looked like it was spinning 50 miles per hour. It all made her feel dizzy. Oh, and she hadn't even mentioned the massive sea of people yet.
She hated school dances. She'd hated them since the first one she went to in 5th grade - and had never gone back to another one since. Her mother insisted that this one was different, that she should get out into the world, make some friends. That was all a fantasy, since everyone was pushing her out of the way.
Meara retreated to the corner near the entrance. The door was open, which meant that there was some fresh air coming through - it was a bit chilly, and it uncomfortably brushed around her bare shoulders, but she still saw it as a win.
A girl with dark hair and gold framed glasses approached her. She said something, but she couldn't quite catch it over the music. She was waving though, so it must've been something like “hi”. Meara waved back. “Hi, what's your name?” she hoped this could be a new friend.
The girl mouthed, what? Her friend tapped her shoulder. They exchanged something, and then she was gone, waving apologetically.
+234 words

3 - unwinding and doing homework on the lakeside
The sun was almost setting. The only sounds around her were ripples of water, the wind between the leaves, and a couple of distant bird chirps. Her footsteps were soft on the dirt path, and her books were beneath one arm. Meara loved coming here to study late in the afternoon - no one ever found her, and it offered an incredible amount of focus. The only thing keeping her company was the occasional butterfly or grasshopper, which she welcomed.
She set her books down when she had found her preferred spot, which was a patch of grass on the lakeside. The trees were beautifully reflected on the surface. And she could see the stars when it eventually got dark. She pulled out her headphones, and let some Taylor Swift play softly into her head.
It had been a long week, and either a lot or nothing at all had happened.
+158 words

part four - expansion on scenario three
It was her third week in this new town. Peaceful, sure, and the house was spacious, but she missed her old home. She missed the two friends that she used to have. Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared into the distance, TS lyrics filling her head. She was supposed to be doing homework right now, but she had time. Everybody viewed her as this academic centered, introverted child. Of course, they were both true statements, but she felt that there was a lot more to her than just that. No one knew that she could sing, or bake, or that she collected models of bugs. No one, besides her mom, knew that she was here because she enjoyed nature, and not just because she wanted to study. School was important, but it fried her brain. All the numbers made her want to scream into a pillow, not to mention all the useless theories she learned in science. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do when she graduated, but it definitely wasn't biology. And it wasn't a doctor, like her mother wanted, either.
The sky was beginning to look overcast, and Meara hoped that it would rain. The droplets of cold water would be able to wash away her worries, it would be able to numb her mind until it was all over in June. Some frogs croaked from the lily pads.
She was just starting to pull out her books, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It startled her a bit, especially since she didn't know anybody around. Turning around, she expected to see some creep - but it was just the dark-haired, gold glasses girl from school. She was wearing running shorts and a cropped t-shirt, smiling at her. Meara pulled out her earbuds.
“Oh, hey!” she said, “I remember seeing you from the dance earlier. What's your name?”
“Hi - I'm Meara. Who are you?”
“I'm Tessa! Nice to meet you, Meara.” she responded.
“Nice to meet you too! I didn't know that you used this trail, I've been here about five times and haven't seen anybody.”
“Really? I run here every day. I'm a little behind schedule today, though, which is why we ran into each other. Mind if I rest with you for a moment?”
Meara smiled. “Of course! I've never had real company here before. I was just about to work on my homework.”
Tessa nodded. “Cool.” she sat down next to her, and watched the water. Meara was amazed that she didn't think anything of her doing her work. Everybody else seemed to look at her weirdly, like she was supposed to be doing something else. She didn't understand that - didn't everyone do their homework at some point? She searched for something to say to Tessa.
“Um, how was the dance? I didn't see you again after that, I was wondering where you went.”
She smiled. “Oh, my friend was just letting me know they put the snacks on sale. I tried to find you too, but it was so crowded. Dances aren't really my thing.”
“Me neither.”
+517 words

-WildClan-

PART 1: Character Inspiration

(The Taylor Swift song I got was “Dear Reader.”)

Some days Wave wasn’t sure whether she was trapped or running away. Or if she had simply given up.
“We’ll pick somewhere and just run,” Wander had said to her friend Ruby, their eyes sparkling with dreams Wave could never see. She had tagged along on their adventures, but no matter how far they travelled, it never felt like home.
Sitting by the ocean, she gazed into the water, barely certain that the reflection was even hers. If you don't recognize yourself, that means you did it right, she told herself. You're making progress. She knew it was a lie, but it felt better than the truth.
If only it was that easy to become somebody else. She had never felt that comfortable in her own pelt, hatched into the wrong body. She couldn’t be confident like Ruby, or carefree like Song, or indifferent like Rain, or free-spirited like Wander. She couldn’t help the malaise she felt. It was all she could do to hide it, forget it enough to get by.
Is there anyone else out there that feels like I do?
Foolishly, desperately, she pretended that someone could hear her, that she could whisper her secrets to the depths of the sea and someone would be there, listening.
“Never take advice from someone who's falling apart,” she began. “But don’t make those same mistakes yourself, either.”
The water washed up around her paws. It felt encouraging, so she continued.
“You don’t have to keep your secrets so well that even you can’t remember them. And when they question how you’re doing, you don't have to answer, just 'cause they asked you. You don’t have to lie.”
So why do I have to?
But, of course, there was no response.

PART 2: Character Sheet

Name: Wave
Species: shazarxa
Gender: female (trans), she/her
Sexuality: lesbian
Alignments: ISFJ-T, lawful good
Appearance: Average height. Plump but sleek build, with a rounded snout. Body is mostly curved edges and soft lines. Pointed, broad wings good for gliding but not for takeoff (think goose wings). Average-length ear tufts and “leaf” tail fan shape. Long, thick, dense fur good for insulation and waterproofing. Fur color is an unsaturated bluish-gray, with a paler bluish-gray underside and a darker bluish-gray “pointed” fur pattern (think Siamese cat fur patterns), along with scattered black markings. Normal feather colors are dark blue-gray, display feather colors are brighter blue with black tips. Eyes are deep blue.
Personality: She’s got a genuinely kind spirit, but it’s masked by the layers and layers of pretense that she’s built up as a result of her insecurity and need to belong. She’s been lying to herself and putting on a front that everything’s okay for so long that she doesn’t remember who she was. She is aware of this and resents her flaws, but believes she is powerless to change. Therefore, she resigns herself to a life of transient, surface-level happiness and melancholic contendedness, never fulfilled. She tries to distract herself so that she can forget her regrets, but secretly longs for the acceptance of someone who can empathize and see her as she truly is.
Core Value: belonging

PART 3: Character Motivation

Wave, alone, making art, wanting an outlet for her emotions

Her art was the only place she could lose herself. When she drew, she allowed herself to stop existing for a while, to leave her foolish worries behind. She became a nothingness, just another nonsentient entity of nature, not thinking, not deciding, just… being.
Sometimes, she drew what she saw in the world around her: the trees, the rocks, the ocean. It helped calm her down when she was stressed; it was an ever-present reminder her that the world around her was larger than she was. In comparison to the majesty of the swirling winds and crashing tides, her problems seemed so small, so insignificant.
Other times, she could make shapes and swirls that depicted nothing at all. Rain called this ‘abstract,’ and claimed it represented all the feelings and thoughts and concepts that one couldn’t see or touch. Maybe Rain was right, but Wave never thought that hard about it. She’d just rake her claws through the dirt and the lines would appear, and before she knew it, her little canvas was full.
And then the wind and rain would come again, wiping it clean.
It was the closest she could come to starting over.

Wave, interacting with Song, wanting to love them but feeling like the connection is fake, and trying to deny how sad this makes her and pretend everything’s fine in order to not worry them

“Wave!” Song cheered, bounding over to her and rubbing affectionately against her side.
Wave stiffened, then relaxed her muscles. “Oh, hey, Song,” she responded, putting a smile on her face.
“How are you?” Song’s blinked up at Wave, eyes shining with love.
Wave glanced away. Why does everyone have to ask that? she lamented. I don’t even know.
“I’m- I’m fine!” She rustled her wings, trying to look casual. “You?”
“Oh, I’m great!” Song chirped. “Ruby showed me some cool plants today! Did you know there’s a flower that…”
As Song babbled on, Wave couldn’t help the flood of melancholy that filled her up her insides, threatening to drown her. Song had to be the happiest, most precious shazarxa in the world. She loved endlessly, a genuine passion for every detail of life and not a single worry about any of it. There was no one else that loved Wave as fully, as unconditionally, as her.
I want to love you, too, she thought. I just wish I had it in me to know how.

Wave, interacting with her sibling, Rain, and wanting to have an honest conversation

She was out of her mind, she had to be. Well, maybe she didn’t want to be in there in the first place.
She stood on the shore of an upheaval unlike anything she had ever known. The storm roared through the air like the voices in her mind, and the sea crashed and raged, as she howled along with it, letting out everything she felt inside.
Here she was, on the edge of a tempest, battered by the water and wind. Almost blown away, yet somehow standing strong.
However, an even louder cry sounded above the turmoil.
“Wave! Wave! Get away from there!”
Was that… Rain?
Her sibling’s panicked voice surprised her. It took a lot to ruffle Rain’s feathers, to provoke a reaction of such magnitude.
But the moment of confusion had done its work. Her claws lost their grip, and before she realized it, she was tumbling tail over head, into the stromy sea.
The last thing she saw was Rain plunging in after her.

PART 4: Expanded Scenario

Wave was a liar. But never in a bad way. It just made more sense than the truth. Next to reality, even lying looked normal. Besides, it was just what everyone expected. Conversations full of empty meanings, simple words wrapped up in little, neat packages. Fantastical tales of things that weren’t real. All the social routines that one had to navigate in order to belong.
But none of that mattered now, did it? Here she was, stuck on an island. There were no expectations, there were no normal routines. She just sat here on the shore and waited.
Suddenly, her sibling, Rain, came bounding out of the bushes and snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Rain! Where have you been all night?” she exclaimed as Rain skidded to a stop a short ways away.
“I- I found something.” Suddenly they looked uncertain, and they glanced back in the direction they came.
“What is it?”
“I’m… not sure.”
That was concerning. Usually, Rain was the first to speak their mind, never afraid to make blunt observations or give their opinion. Wave never understood that about them.
“Well, show me, then.”
Without saying anything else, they turned around and beckoned with their tail. Wave followed, wondering what Rain could have possibly discovered.
They walked across the island in silence for a long time, deep into the parts Wave hadn’t explored. Yet Rain seemed to know exactly where to go, following a trail they had apparently used many times before, judging from the scent. Finally, they stopped in front of a large tree.
“Look!” Rain urged.
There, on the bark of the tree, were little drawings, more than Wave could possibly count, not carved into the wood as if with claws, but grown naturally. They climbed all the way up the trunk before vanishing behind the leaves.
“Each scene…” Rain began, taking off and flapping upwards into the sky, “is part of a larger story.” They alighted on a branch near the top. “And I think… this one’s our story.”
“What?” replied Wave, confused, landing beside her sibling.
Rain pointed to some drawings on the branch they were sitting on. “Our personal history, it’s woven directly into this scene.”
Wave squinted at it, and sure enough, figures of shazarxi that looked very much like herself and Rain were shown leaving the canyon, following what appeared to be Wander, Song, and Ruby.
“But it’s not the only time that scene appears,” Rain continued, their voice rising in excitement. They slipped down to a lower branch. “It’s over here, too. But this one shows Wander in the foreground. The same event told in a combination of ways.”
“I don’t understand,” Wave muttered, feeling very unsettled, both by the tree and by Rain’s enthusiasm about it. “What does it mean? It doesn’t even make sense. Trees don’t grow like this.”
Rain twitched an ear tuft. A flicker of annoyance? “That’s the point! This tree, it’s proof that there are things in this world that don’t make sense!” They lowered their voice and looked directly into Wave’s eyes. “I know you’ve seen it too. The tiny details that don’t add up, the inconsistencies that no one ever mentions. You try to ignore it, live your oblivious life, but it’s always there. Something is wrong.”
A chill settled over Wave. Rain couldn’t be right, but still- “No! No, nothing is wrong! There are no- no inconsistencies, nothing out of the ordinary! This isn’t some story, Rain!” She knew she was losing her calm, but she was too unnerved to care. She flew back to the ground and hurried away. “I don’t want anything to do with this. I never want to see that tree again!”
She felt Rain’s gaze on her back as she left. Right before going out of sight, she looked over her shoulder. For some reason, Rain’s eyes looked like they were glowing an unnatural green, much different than the usual deep blue. Startled, she quickly looked away and fled, not stopping until she was back at the shore.
“What was that?!” she exclaimed out loud, breathing heavily.
“The mark of the author,” some uninvited voice in her head answered.
She shook herself. No. It was just a trick of the light or something. There was some logical explanation for all this, she simply didn’t understand it yet. She’d find her way back to the mainland and forget all about it.
Still, something deep within her whispered “But…”

opheliio

for critiquaire!

Atlas’ fifth time in Promise, and still she had no idea what its name meant. Patron curse whoever called it that.
A thought tickled at the back of her head. She refused to give it the light of day.
Her mind was mostly refused thoughts, at the moment. Considerations better left unconsidered, ideas too terrible to even flirt with flirting with. She had never enjoyed flirting. File that one away with the others, too. Soon she would run out of topics of thought, and be forced to resort to counting the lanterns and the stars.
She hated this city. That she could think about. Inconsistency, that was its promise. Every visit, a new, more unruly festival. Atlas would know, the __ were quite possibly the most creative celebrators on the Plains.
Or maybe she was just in a bad mood. No, that could not be it. Atlas Ward, to her birth and duty, was perfectly reasonable. She had never suffered a bad mood, she never would.
Without her traveling party, the dancing hall seemed empty. Atlas’ previous three visits in Promise had featured trips to this very hall, though it was more that Inya and Whim dragged her here. Tonight, her feet carried her here out of habit. She supposed. Patron forbid she seek out enjoyment on her own terms.
A waste of a journey. No. This was how it was meant to be. Atlas had run away. She had no duty nor any agenda to carry out. That flavor on her lips was freedom. She reached for her glass and her hand brushed the arm of a neighbor.
She flinched, anticipating the reaction. They always capitulated, even if they claimed not to keep the faith. Superstition superseded religion, logic. But it was nothing.
Touch, her touch, was nothing of note, here. Atlas reminded herself, again and again. She felt she should remember. She had always been so trapped when others saw her as more than she was. And now she was free of that. Just took some getting used to.
Someone bumped into her from behind, and the general jostling of her current location led her to seek a new one. She ducked into the shadows, hoping her light blues were well enough disguised by the dark and by her cloak.
The thought, the image of her huddled by the wall of a darkened dancing house, made her laugh. Cry. She was hopeless. This was no grand escape. She could hardly remember who she was or where she was, let alone what she was pretending. What a terrible lie.
Wards were good for one thing. Protecting. Who was she protecting here?

“Do I know you?” Someone else had joined her in the shadows. The voice was unfamiliar, but when she turned she instantly recognized those awful blue eyes. She hadn’t seen him in years. The reunion was not a happy one.
“I do know you,” he said, deep voice taking on a distinctive whine. “Princess Atlas. Ward, was it? Of Bulwark?”
“Yes.” The Wards didn’t produce royalty, they took on no titles, but any respect he might show her, she would take.
“Yaan the First of his Name,” Yaan the First of his Name said in introduction. North Bastion presumed so much with their conventions. “We met—oh, we met here! That council was called in Promise. When was that—four years ago? Oh, you were tiny then. So afraid to touch anyone. Ha! Imagine. You look much better now. Less corpsey. And your paint—are the Wards allowing that now? Would make quite the scandal, otherwise.”
She nodded, thoughts going to her next planned destination. Before dawn, she could charter a carriage. Get out of town before word got to Bulwark.
“Such interesting garbs you’re wearing these days—the holy guards? What a nuisance! You can’t have joined them, being tied up as you are. So what is this mission of yours? No, I’m sure it is quite secret. You mustn’t tell me. But you must! Only a peek, I promise. You won’t hear a peep out of me, promise. Ha! Like the city. No. But you must dance with me. You were such a wonderful dancing partner, when we last met.”
He talked without taking breaths. His face had all the attraction of a dying horse. He offered her his hand. There was no “no” to be uttered. Atlas was well and truly cornered. She took his hand. She did not flinch.
Yaan tugged her into the light, head already turned away. On his leash, Atlas stepped to the dance floor. Some band played from the mezzanine. She glanced at them. Regret. If she knew how to play, an escape would be simple. If she knew how to sing, she could make the excuses now. Her partner was still babbling on, as he placed one hand on her back and squeezed the other in code.
Too many years had passed since she last danced. Even so, she slipped into it easily. Moving in tandem with the instrument, giving up to the song, easy as ever, even with an opposite as mediocre as Yaan. His words dropped into a dull buzz; she was grateful his voice had deepened so much, it could easily be mistaken for a basso continuo.
Patron. Had she really just compared a man’s voice to—
“Excuse me.” A new, higher, clear voice broke through her spiraling. “Might I request a dance with this fine lady?” The speaker was dressed in dirtied finery; she had been traveling without the usual protections afforded to someone of her class. Yet she was splendid all the same; she was viciously beautiful. Dark coils pulled up to crown her head. Eyes half way between mountain brown and deep midnight blue; impossible eyes, eyes that refused whatever humans conceived as impossible. Her masque was sparing yet pleasing—a hint of rouge on her checks, five white stars shining upon her forehead. Atlas had seen this woman before.
Yaan hummed with interest, eyes dropping to his side. He bowed to Atlas as she nodded, then backed to the shadows. Her eyes followed him, suspecting his attention would not soon retreat from him.
Her new companion cleared her throat. She jumped, but took her gloved hand. She wanted to ask—no. That was an inappropriate topic of conversation.
“Rogue,” Atlas said, giving an obviously fake name that would hopefully deter questioning.
“Ah. Then we are alike in spirit,” the other said. They stood still, hands touching through a glove. “I find I’m often called Flor.”

Last edited by opheliio (Nov. 10, 2023 00:21:31)

minergold48

Weekly 1 || 1738 words

Part 1 (458 words)
evermore
“Writing letters addressed to the fire”
“I rewind the tape but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost”
“Is there a line that I could just go cross?”

Sagelline pushed open the door to her home angrily, and then slammed it behind her. “Stupid kids,” she muttered to herself, raging to the bathroom to clean herself up. She spent some time cleaning up her cuts and scrapes, before pausing to look at herself in the mirror. To your average bystander, she was just your ordinary sable ferret, her face fur being an ivory color, and her paws and tail a deep brown. But there were some dark secrets hidden behind her piercing teal eyes.
The worst part was that even she couldn’t remember those secrets.
“Maybe I started that fight,” Sagelline sighed, brushing some dirt off of her long lavender coat, reflecting on what had happened that day. She was on edge, like she had always been, and decided to insult some random guy on the street after he had accidentally bumped into her. Clearly that had ended badly. “It’s not my fault people don’t know what I’m going through,” she huffed, trying to reassure herself, but a part of her still felt guilty as she strode to her desk, taking out a piece of paper.
“Dear Fimzle,” she began to write, mouthing the words as she went. Fimzle wasn’t the name of who Sagelline was writing to, but it’s not like she remembered who they were. “I still don’t remember anything, no matter what I try. Just that I’m Sagelline, and that I scared you off. When we meet again, I hope you’ll tell me what I forgot. At least, as long as all those people who hate me for no reason don’t beat me up first.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember anything about her past. Face after face flashed in her mind as she thought about all of the people who she had angered for little to no reason. What else was she supposed to do with her life, though? They weren’t trying to help her, anyways.
And then she remembered them… ‘Fimzle’.
The fennec fox had been in her house when she had first awakened. She remembered them asking her if she had been okay, and her furious retaliation. They had left, and hadn’t returned, and now she regretted her decision. Pushing the guilt out of her mind, Sagelline tried to think to before that, but just like every time before, there was simply nothing.
“The world’s rough on those who are bold,” she wrote. “But I won’t let it take that away from me. Sincerely, Sage.”
She walked over to the fireplace and lit it, watching the flames crackle and dance around. She read over her letter one last time, before dropping it into the hearth, watching it burn to ash. Nobody needed to know her true feelings…not even ‘Fimzle’.

Part 2 (227 words)

Name: Sagelline Fern Eleevis
Species: Sable Ferret
Age: 34
Pronouns: she/her
Orientation: Demiromantic, Greysexual, Neptunic
Occupation: Formerly the boss of a mysterious shadow organization, currently a window washer
Height: 6’1
Birthday: October 13
Personality traits: Impulsive, brutally honest, clever, generally disrespectful, loyal, bossy, suppresses guilt, optimistic
Likes: Being the leader, scaring people, winning arguments, fighting
Dislikes: Working under people she dislikes, people who don’t fear her, being alone
Fears: Being tricked, her secrets being revealed, never being able to remember her past, never having any sort of support system, appearing ‘weak’
Abilities: Dark magic
Strengths: Physically strong, naturally proficient with magic, clever, agile, loyal, skilled at detecting lies and tricks
Weaknesses: Doesn’t get along with others, bad temper, can’t remember her past and is unaware of her magic, suppresses any emotions that she thinks will make her seem weak
Tendencies: She is rude to everyone except elders and those who she knows well and trusts; if she’s not doing something she enjoys she gets antsy and will actively search for someone who she can scare or tick off; if she feels guilt or another negative emotion she will either try to convince herself that what she did was right or bully someone feeling the same way in order to make herself feel better; she will write letters to the fennec fox she scared off on a regular basis in order to feel less alone, and then burns the letter in an attempt to burn out any of her negative feelings and to feel like her hidden emotions are safe

Part 3 (531 words)
Sage’s motives: To survive (basic), To protect her secrets (basic), To remember (psychological), To have someone she can trust (psychological), To be a powerful leader that strikes fear into the hearts of her enemies (Self-fulfillment)

Scene 1 (156 words)
Sagelline was silently scrubbing windows, standing on a high-rise platform hundreds of feet over the ground. Her mind was focused, relying on muscle memory to clean the windows as she focused her energy on her feeble attempts to remember her past. “So, what’s your story?” she heard a voice next to her ask. She turned her head, angrily glaring at her opossum coworker, who was cleaning windows on the high-rise next to her. “It’s none of your business,” she hissed, turning to resume her work.
“Everyone has some sort of story to tell,” the opossum continued, cleaning his windows at the same rate Sagelline was. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me-“
“It’s. None. Of. Your. BUSINESS,” the ferret interrupted with a growl. Even though she had no meaningful story to tell that she remembered, she knew that there was no way that this random guy would get the chance to hear anything about her.

Scene 2 (187 words)
Sagelline was walking home, feeling the crisp breeze on her fur, when she saw a familiar figure at her door. She hid behind a tree before they could see her, narrowing her eyes as she peered at the fennec fox at the door, the one who she had named ‘Fimzle’. She processed their anxious stance, and the papers fumbling in their paws, thinking hard. She could just go out and see where her emotions took her, but…she knew she had to do something else. If she wanted to remember, she needed someone who remembered her, and ‘Fimzle’ was the only one who seemed to recognize her. She couldn’t just go up and scare them off again. So she began to formulate a plan in her head, one that would allow her to get answers, her eyes locked on the fox. Then she strode out silently, getting up right behind them.
“Hello,” she said sharply, her visitor jumping and dropping all of their papers in fear as they turned to look at the ferret looming over them.
“Why don’t you come inside? I have a lot of questions…”

Scene 3 (188 words)
Sagelline was reading a book, sitting on a bench at a park. She glanced up at the playground when she heard a yelp, noticing a kid being bullied by some older kids. She wasn’t sure why the younger kid wasn’t standing up for themself. That’s what she would do in that situation, at least. She ignored the situation for a bit, but guilt slowly started nagging at her, and Sagelline decided that breaking it up would be for her own good.
She got up and walked over to the playground, none of the kids noticing the tall ferret. *I might as well make this more enjoyable for me,* she thought to herself, before standing behind the bullied kid and growling at their aggressors. The three kids stared at her, surprised. “Go away,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes. She took in the pride she felt as the bullies trembled in fear, before scattering, leaving Sagelline with the young kid. “T-thank you…” they whispered, looking up at her in awe. “Sure, whatever, I guess,” she sighed, walking back over to her bench, trying to shove down the warmth inside her.

Part 4 (522 words)
Extension of scene 2

‘Fimzle’ accepted Sagelline’s invitation, letting her shove them inside and into a chair in her living room, closing the door behind her. “Hey S-Sage-!” they said awkwardly as Sagelline stood directly in front of them, preventing them from being able to escape. “I wanted to che-“ they started, Sagelline harshly interrupting “Who are you and why the heck were you in my house?”
The fennec fox stared, before saying “What do you mean? We were sleeping over..?” Sagelline glared at them silently…why in the world would she be close enough to such a small, awkward character to invite them to her house for a sleepover? She was about to call them out as a liar, but bit her tongue. What did she know? It wasn’t like she remembered anything…and it would be easier to pull this creature to her side if they had already been on her side…
“Okay then, if you say so… What do you know about me?” she asked sharply. Still confused, ‘Fimzle’ replied “Uhm…nothing more than what you’ve told me…”
“Must I ask again?”
“N-no-! Just- what’s gotten into you-?”
Sagelline let out a low growl, and her witness trembled.
“Okay, okay, uhm, I know that you’re the leader of the Shadow Corps? And that you have powerful dark magic? And uh, you’re happier when you’re in charge and know everything?”
Sagelline reflected on it. Shadow Corps? Dark magic? It made sense, but why doesn’t she remember any of that? “I haven’t heard from the… ‘Shadow Corps’… in a long time.”
“You haven’t? Is that why you’re acting so strange?”
“I am /not/ acting strange,” Sagelline snapped.
The fennec fox’s face fell. “Sage, you’re acting like you’ve never seen me before in your life… don’t you remember me?”
“It’s nONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
They cringed, curling their tail around themself. “I thought you trusted me, though?”
Sagelline paused. She had trusted them with these secrets? There must’ve been a reason, unless her old self was a wimp, and she hoped that she hadn’t been that. But she couldn’t trust this stranger, not yet. “And why is that?”
“You said that it’s me and you, right? Sagelline and Ghost?”
Well, ‘Fimzle’ had a name now, and not a bad one either. “Is that true?”
“…”
“…What if I said that I don’t remember you?”
Ghost stared at her. “You…” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember anything from my life.”
She stepped back so the fennec fox could get up, gasping sharply when they hugged her. “I’m sorry…I’m still here for you though, okay?”
Warmth crawled into Sagelline’s fur. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she wouldn’t have to only tell her secrets to the fire.
“Okay,” she said, hugging Ghost back. “You’ll need to help me remember, though.”
“Of course.” They took her paw tentatively, squeezing it, before going outside to collect the papers they had dropped. “You left these at my place, although I guess you have no clue what they’d be for…” Sagelline peered at them, seeing that they said ‘For Shadow Corp eyes only’ at the top.
“Time to get some answers.”

Last edited by minergold48 (Nov. 10, 2023 01:39:08)

theawesomemarbler

go to main post

Word Wars 2

“Hey, Marbles. Do you wanna see what I have?” Weren asked me as I saw him wave at my direction. I hurried past many people to get to him. “Hmm? You wanted to show me something?” I asked, attempting to peep through the gaps in his hands. “Yep, you will enjoy this!” He exclaimed, opening his palm. I saw something that made me pretty disappointed, “Woah! It's a pearl! But it's really nothing special…” I said, disappointing Weren, but I didn't realize there was more. The pearl was changing colors. That's what Weren wanted to show me. He knows I like colorful stuff.
(the story got cut off)

103 words

CHUROS000

Churro's Critiques #1
For @cinamncx

Hi, I love your writing tone! It's sort of poetic, and I love all the describing words you put in it. It sort of develops the mood and stuff (lol I'm terrible at critiquing). I love the symbolism between the mom and the ladybugs, I need to do that more in my writing. You have a big vocabulary. I will say the frequent all-caps stuff sort of freaked me out because all caps equals screaming so maybe use less of those? I mean I know you're trying to show all the emotions in here but maybe don't overdo it. Apparently all caps are a trigger warning. But anyways your writing is great, and I look forward to reading more of your work

-NightGlow-

Word War - With Moonsy <3 (2023-11-09)

A branch snapped, whisking you away to this unknown world of magic. The stars were dispersed across the night sky, hiding in the shadows of darkness with only pints of light shining through here and there. Although dark, the sky was an evident shade of blue and pink which was quite unusual. It seemed as if you had been taken to another world altogether, and you were about to realize that these thoughts were true. As you silently made your way down the cobblestone path, you noticed a few shadows lurking behind. However, as soon as you turned around to see whom they belonged to, they instantly disappeared, falling right back into the coverage the darkness provided. You weren't easily scared, but this was a new thing altogether. Being left alone with no guidance wasn't easy, and to be frankly honest, you had no clue what was going to happen from then on.

Nevertheless, you kept going, following the yellow path, which seemed endless. The calls of the night echoed, as a crisp breeze lingered around the trees. The whole place seemed magical as if it was enchanted in one way or another, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was. Continuing to walk deeper into the wood, you spotted a golden-looking glass. It shone in the moonlight from above, as the trees reflected it's beauty through it's surroundings. Curious as to what power it held, you sprinted towards it, not taking into any consideration of the possible danger that might lurk.

“We can’t eat him, it’s Thursday.”

inkycloud

Weekly 1
Betty, right now is the last time
I can dream about what happens when
You see my face again
The only thing I wanna do
Is make it up to you
So I showed up at your party

Part 1: 265

He’s at her door, rocking back and forth, hand trembling just slightly inside his pocket. He smiles quietly every few seconds, sneaking glances towards the top window. It’s probably from his nerves; he's never been a good talker, not even now, when he wants more than anything to be able to express his feelings to her.
The house itself is filled with more life than it has ever been, and Hana bounces from person to person, taking pictures and grinning ear to ear. Finally, almost disappointedly, she opens the front door to welcome her new guest, and she freezes in place. A frown appears on her face and her dark eyes narrow.
“I know this is a bad time,” Nikolas begins, jumping a little when she slams the door open, “but, uhm, I really wanted to see you.”
“Not even a need?” Hana asks, glaring at him. He laughs sheepishly for a moment, then goes back to linking and unlinking his fingers.
“Yeah, maybe a need. I know what I did was really… really bad of me. To do, I mean.”
“Nicky, you’re really bad at getting to the point,” Hana says. She doesn’t sound angry or devastated; she just seems tired.
“Sorry,” he instinctively mumbles, looking off to the side. “I just really— I really wanted to say sorry. I know I did some bad things, and I couldn’t get the guilt out of my head, and I really.. I really needed to tell you, Hana. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t forgive you,” Hana says simply, and she closes the door on him.

Part 2: 158

Name: Nikolas ‘Nick’ Pachis
Pronouns: he / him
Age: 17 years old

Height: 170cm or 5’7” (insists he’s actually 173 and that’s BASICALLY 175)
Appearance: almond-brown hair, darker brown eyes, tan skin
Clothing: typically wears neutral colours with horribly neon jackets / hats

Personality: reserved, acts quickly, non-confrontational
Positive: flattering, loyal, focused
Negative: dismissive, emotionally unavailable, dishonest

Hobbies + Opinions: is competitive when it comes to clownery (dressed up once as a clown as his aunts assistant), avid pickleball enthusiast, resident math club hater, started learning vietnamese for his ex and continued after they broke up, wholeheartedly believes in jolly rancher supremacy, part-time waiter and former gymnast

Relationships:
two older siblings; matthias pachis (23) and aleka pachis (19)
close relationship with his sister; they often play pickleball together (he loses)
semi-close relationship with his brother; they live in separate cities but text fairly often (few times per week)

“the only crush i know is candy crush </3” nick, after getting rejected

Part 3:

Scenario 1: 187
desire to win; competing in ‘candy wars’

The stage brims with untapped joy; the anticipation of the crowd feels tangibly addictive to any incomers. Spotlights center on the glossy black floor, green tape lining its edges. Nick gulps nervously; the stage has never had the same comforting, routine nature of the straight-edged pickleball court or the tender embrace of his bed.

“Welcome to the Candy Wars!” the man in the jewel-studded neon green suit shouts, and Nick imagines dazzling show-worthy signs popping up all around him. He leans forwards; boy, is this gonna be good.

“Today, we’ll be taking a look at our next representatives; Jellybeans and Jolly Ranchers!!!!”

Nick lifts himself up as Jolly Ranchers is called, cheering as loudly as he can. He’s appalled by the number of people wearing red-black for the jellybeans. They clearly don’t appreciate the superior candies. It takes the announcer a good two minutes before the crowd is told to shush. Nick stays standing, zoning out throughout Jellybean’s introduction speech. As his name is called, he leaps forwards, whooping in excitement. He’s going to win this– if not for his pride, then for the Jolly Ranchers themselves.

Scenario 2: 190
wanting to impress; at work

His mom’s battered sedan pulls slowly into Leed’s. Nick can feel the bile rise in his throat as she comes to a stop next to the sidewalk. He checks his phone again, shaking his knee nervously. It’s 4:30 pm; he has four hours and a half before he can continue to stress about schoolwork. For now, he’ll only be a hindrance if he keeps getting distracted.

Nick quietly slips out of the car and heads into the restaurant, nodding at Dahlia, who’s manning the counter. Inside the suffocating staff room, he shoves on the uniform haphazardly and sits down. His boss walks in and Nick feels himself sitting up a little straighter. Although he doesn’t particularly like the job, he still shakes whenever she comes around.

Maybe it’s just his bad luck that Giselle is watching him like a hawk as he fumbles with orders, spills the tiniest drops of water, and forgets to add the extra pickles one family orders in.
Nick shifts from foot to foot as he waits for his mom to come back, vowing to do better next time. He still has homework to do.

Scenario 3: 258
desire to be a good person; watching unfair treatment

The shelf crashes down onto the street with a clang that feels like it shatters Nick’s eardrums. He winces as he watches countless glassware and ceramic items shatter on the stone masonry that lines the street. Inside the rickety shop, Nick can hear the clamoring voices of angry people. Although staying away is the smartest move, he lets his curiosity get the better of him and takes a peek inside.
Inside, Nick sees the shopkeeper being berated by a group of unruly customers. They shout insults and accusations, their anger palpable in the air. The shopkeeper, visibly shaken, tries to defend themselves, but their voice is drowned out by the cacophony of voices.

Nick's heart goes out to the shopkeeper, but he still finds himself unable to speak up. The fear of becoming the target of the anger that fills the room paralyzes him. He silently curses his own weakness, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration.

As he continues to observe, Nick notices the shopkeeper's eyes filled with tears. It becomes clear to him that this is not just a simple argument; the shopkeeper is being attacked with the people's words. The weight of the situation settles heavily on Nick's shoulders, and he wonders how long the shopkeeper has endured such mistreatment.

Despite his own apprehension, Nick makes a silent promise to himself. He vows to find a way to help the shopkeeper, to put an end to their suffering. With determination growing in his heart, Nick slowly backs away from the shop, planning his next move.

Part 3:
Continuation of Scenario 1: 568
Nick takes a deep breath and steps onto the stage, feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The bright lights blind him momentarily, but he quickly adjusts his focus. The cheers and applause from the crowd fuel his determination as he prepares to showcase his skills and lead the Jolly Ranchers to victory. With each step he takes, he can't help but feel his anticipation grow, ready to prove that Jolly Ranchers are the ultimate candy in this epic battle of confectionery goods.
As Nick stands in the spotlight, he takes a moment to take in the buzzing energy of the crowd. The anticipation in the air is almost tangible, as if every person watching him is holding their breath, waiting for the dance battle to begin. He can feel the eyes of the audience on him, their expectations hanging in the air like a heavy blindfold that threatens to blot out his vision.
The stage, once a foreign landscape to Nick, has become his second home. He has spent countless hours perfecting his routines, honing his skills, and pushing himself to the limit. This is his chance to shine, to show the world what he is capable of, and he is determined not to let this opportunity slip away. He waits in bated breath as the spotlights move to shine on him. This is his stage now.
As the music starts, Nick's body moves in perfect harmony with the pounding rhythm. He twists, flips, and twirls, each movement executed with precision and grace. The crowd is captivated by his performance, their cheers and applause growing louder with each daring feat he manages to pull off.
Nick's mind is focused solely on the task at hand. He blocks out the distractions, the noise, the doubt. All that matters in this moment is the careful artistry of his movements, the passion in his heart, and the desire to bring glory to the Jolly Ranchers. His hands reach out to the ceiling, then the floor, then he faces the audience and spins in a dizzying blur of motion.
As the routine reaches its climax, Nick pours every ounce of his energy into the final moments. He takes a quick breath and then leaps high into the air, defying gravity for a brief second, before landing with a flourishing pose. The crowd erupts in a thunderous applause that shakes the building and eases Nick’s trembling fingertips.
Nick has to take a moment to catch his breath, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. He looks out into the sea of faces, seeing his own passion reflected in their excited eyes. In this moment, he realizes that it's not merely about winning or losing. It's about the journey, the passion, and the memories that will last a lifetime. Above all, he finds that his appreciation for Jolly Ranchers, which he thought could never soar higher, has doubled in size.
With a dazzling smile on his face, Nick bows deeply, acknowledging the roaring applause that shines raucously from the crowd. He is proud of what he has done, proud to have represented the Jolly Ranchers with all that he has to give. Finally, as he steps away from the blinding stage lights, he knows that no matter the outcome, he has left his mark on the Candy Wars, forever etching the name of Jolly Ranchers into the hearts of the audience.

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