Discuss Scratch
- Discussion Forums
- » Collaboration
- » swc megathread ☾ november 2023
![[RSS Feed]](//cdn.scratch.mit.edu/scratchr2/static/__5b3e40ec58a840b41702360e9891321b__//djangobb_forum/img/feed-icon-small.png "[RSS Feed]")
![[RSS Feed]](http://cdn.scratch.mit.edu/scratchr2/static/__5b3e40ec58a840b41702360e9891321b__//djangobb_forum/img/feed-icon-small.png "[RSS Feed]"){kind=icon}
- CHUROS000
-
Scratcher
44 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Churro's Critiques #2
for @opheliio
So you said you were looking for if you got the mood you were looking for come across? Good news, I think you did! It was super descriptive which helps set up the mood, and I love how you used so many loaded words and your big vocabulary- *hides away my dictionary hehe* to describe this. Your overall tone gave me like sweet-honey-ish, whimsical sort of vibe and when Oli listed out all the requests I could practically see them in my head and now I'm hungry and I want to eat that ha ha. It looks so ✨aesthetic✨ in my head lol, I don't know about you. I will say the lack of grammar made it a bit hard to read for me. There's not a single capital letter. But other than that, this is amazing. It is a work of art *chef's kiss*
for @opheliio
So you said you were looking for if you got the mood you were looking for come across? Good news, I think you did! It was super descriptive which helps set up the mood, and I love how you used so many loaded words and your big vocabulary- *hides away my dictionary hehe* to describe this. Your overall tone gave me like sweet-honey-ish, whimsical sort of vibe and when Oli listed out all the requests I could practically see them in my head and now I'm hungry and I want to eat that ha ha. It looks so ✨aesthetic✨ in my head lol, I don't know about you. I will say the lack of grammar made it a bit hard to read for me. There's not a single capital letter. But other than that, this is amazing. It is a work of art *chef's kiss*
- MokshithaVedarsh
-
Scratcher
93 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
15th November Daily ( 617 words)
Long ago in a village named Bheempoor, there was a girl named Isabella who lived with her parents who were rich farmers.
One day, as usual, while her parents were harvesting their crops, they found an unusual box. They call Isabella and give it to her.
When Isabella opened the box, in it, she found a map which was leading to a place. She decided to investigate it so she told her parents what she had found and the decision she had made. Her parents didn’t agree at once but Isa convinced them. They told her, “Isa, be careful and take the one whom you most trust with you.” Isabella agreed and said “ I will take my best friend Sophie with me”.
She then went to Sophie’s house and knocked on the door. Sophie opened the door. They greet each other. Sophie asks “What’s the reason you came here ?” Isabella whispers to Sophie, “I have a secret to tell so come to our secret hideout this evening.” Sophie agrees.
In the evening, both of them reach their secret hideout. Sophie is very eager to know the secret. Isa shows the map to her. Sophie was very excited to see that map. Isa says “ I think, this map leads to a hidden treasure so would you like to join and help me. Sophie agrees and asks “When will we start our journey ?” Isa replies “ Tomorrow, early in the morning. Meet me here.”
When Isa checks the map in her house, she spots a riddle on it and decides to tell Sophie about it.
The next morning, they met at their secret hideout. Isa tells everything about the riddle. Sophie replied “ What is it”? Isa replied, “ The riddle is—-I am huge but my core is very small, my strength and weakness is you, reach me, you found the treasure.” Sophie says, “Isa, this is a very tricky one, I wonder what the answer might be.” Isabella replies, “Yes, indeed, I wonder if it is something magical.”
Sophie replies, “Don’t be so foolish, Isa! Magic isn’t real!” Isa says, “There is a strange feeling inside me which tells that magic is real.”
Suddenly, an old woman appears walking down the path towards the two friends. The old woman asks “What are you girls talking about?” Isa froze for a minute and replied in an uncertain way, “Uh, we are just planning for a picnic.” The old woman asks, “What is that piece of paper in your hand ?” Isa panics while Sophie replies, “Oh, that's the map to our respective homes so we don’t get lost. ”
The old woman says, “Ok girls, be careful as this forest is very dense and dangerous.”
The woman sings a song loudly while walking down the path-
“The magic starts from the land
Mysterious things will begin now
You know what to do
You’ll fade away
If you’re not strong enough
Mysterious things will begin now”.
The woman disappears.
Isa says, “I think it is something about us.” Sophie replies, “Yes, it might be a warning.” Isa agrees with Sophie.
Isa says, “No matter what happens, we will follow the map to where it leads.” Sophie agrees and says, “Though I don’t believe in magic, I think the place where the map leads might be a magical place.” Isa agreed with Sophie and said “ It would be good if we take the help of our elders. “ Sophie said “Yes, then whom can we ask for help ?” Isa replied “I guess my parents might know something about it.”
Sophie asks Isa, “Why do you think so?” Isa replies,“My parents often tell stories about a magic land.” Sophie says “We’ve found the key to the mystery!”
Long ago in a village named Bheempoor, there was a girl named Isabella who lived with her parents who were rich farmers.
One day, as usual, while her parents were harvesting their crops, they found an unusual box. They call Isabella and give it to her.
When Isabella opened the box, in it, she found a map which was leading to a place. She decided to investigate it so she told her parents what she had found and the decision she had made. Her parents didn’t agree at once but Isa convinced them. They told her, “Isa, be careful and take the one whom you most trust with you.” Isabella agreed and said “ I will take my best friend Sophie with me”.
She then went to Sophie’s house and knocked on the door. Sophie opened the door. They greet each other. Sophie asks “What’s the reason you came here ?” Isabella whispers to Sophie, “I have a secret to tell so come to our secret hideout this evening.” Sophie agrees.
In the evening, both of them reach their secret hideout. Sophie is very eager to know the secret. Isa shows the map to her. Sophie was very excited to see that map. Isa says “ I think, this map leads to a hidden treasure so would you like to join and help me. Sophie agrees and asks “When will we start our journey ?” Isa replies “ Tomorrow, early in the morning. Meet me here.”
When Isa checks the map in her house, she spots a riddle on it and decides to tell Sophie about it.
The next morning, they met at their secret hideout. Isa tells everything about the riddle. Sophie replied “ What is it”? Isa replied, “ The riddle is—-I am huge but my core is very small, my strength and weakness is you, reach me, you found the treasure.” Sophie says, “Isa, this is a very tricky one, I wonder what the answer might be.” Isabella replies, “Yes, indeed, I wonder if it is something magical.”
Sophie replies, “Don’t be so foolish, Isa! Magic isn’t real!” Isa says, “There is a strange feeling inside me which tells that magic is real.”
Suddenly, an old woman appears walking down the path towards the two friends. The old woman asks “What are you girls talking about?” Isa froze for a minute and replied in an uncertain way, “Uh, we are just planning for a picnic.” The old woman asks, “What is that piece of paper in your hand ?” Isa panics while Sophie replies, “Oh, that's the map to our respective homes so we don’t get lost. ”
The old woman says, “Ok girls, be careful as this forest is very dense and dangerous.”
The woman sings a song loudly while walking down the path-
“The magic starts from the land
Mysterious things will begin now
You know what to do
You’ll fade away
If you’re not strong enough
Mysterious things will begin now”.
The woman disappears.
Isa says, “I think it is something about us.” Sophie replies, “Yes, it might be a warning.” Isa agrees with Sophie.
Isa says, “No matter what happens, we will follow the map to where it leads.” Sophie agrees and says, “Though I don’t believe in magic, I think the place where the map leads might be a magical place.” Isa agreed with Sophie and said “ It would be good if we take the help of our elders. “ Sophie said “Yes, then whom can we ask for help ?” Isa replied “I guess my parents might know something about it.”
Sophie asks Isa, “Why do you think so?” Isa replies,“My parents often tell stories about a magic land.” Sophie says “We’ve found the key to the mystery!”
- MokshithaVedarsh
-
Scratcher
93 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Second Weekly.
Part 1: (432 words)
Kissan Jam- The most loved jam in India ( A humorous skit for the first part of the second weekly)
Scene 1 ( A convo between two friends)( Setting: In Ahsaas's house in Delhi, India)
Characters:
Ahsaas- 13-year-old girl
Aarna- 13-year-old girl.
( Ahsaas and Aarna are school friends.)
Ahsaas: Hi Aarna! How are you?
Aarna: Hi Ahsaas! I am good. What about you?
Ahsaas: Me? I'm fine but tell me are you a true Indian?
Aarna: Yes, of course. ( with suspicion) Why are asking this? What are you up to?
Ahsaas: Nothing. Just wanted to know because….
Aarna: (Interrupts) You wait! I know you are going to ask some question for which I I have to answer to become a true Indian. Am I right?
Ahsaas: You are one-hundred percent right but how did you know what I was going to tell you?
Aarna: Best friends know everything and that is called friendship and experience.
Ahsaas: Woah! You should become a Poet for you poetry and quotations and that is the reason you get good marks in English.
Aarna: Nice joke! and no I get good marks in English because I work ward and study well unlike someone in this room.
Ahsaas: Maybe I didn't get more than you in English but I got more than you in Social. Now what do you have to say for yourself?
Aarna: First thing is first, we are friends and not enemies so let us stop bickering over marks and all.
Ahsaas: Ok and you are right!
Aarna: Of course I am right. I am the older one here.
Ahsaas: (grumpy)You are older than me only by one month and 3 days so don't think that you play dictator like Hitler and dictate, I am my own person.
Aarna: I am so so sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry if I offended you in any way.
Ahsaas: It's fine. You are my best friend.
Aarna: The topic was deviated so you were going to ask me a question, right?
Ahsaas: Yes, I completely forgot about that so here is the question which will determine if you are a true Indian- So a farmer is stuck in a traffic jam so then what is it called?
Aarna: ( thinking) I don't know!
Ahsaas: The answer to my great question is- Kissan Jam! In hindi, Farmer is known as Kissan and Kissan Jam is the most loved jam in India.
Aarna: Nice joke as usual. Okay then bye, I have to run to my home now as it is late.
Ahsaas: Bye but don't hurt yourself!
Part 1: (432 words)
Kissan Jam- The most loved jam in India ( A humorous skit for the first part of the second weekly)
Scene 1 ( A convo between two friends)( Setting: In Ahsaas's house in Delhi, India)
Characters:
Ahsaas- 13-year-old girl
Aarna- 13-year-old girl.
( Ahsaas and Aarna are school friends.)
Ahsaas: Hi Aarna! How are you?
Aarna: Hi Ahsaas! I am good. What about you?
Ahsaas: Me? I'm fine but tell me are you a true Indian?
Aarna: Yes, of course. ( with suspicion) Why are asking this? What are you up to?
Ahsaas: Nothing. Just wanted to know because….
Aarna: (Interrupts) You wait! I know you are going to ask some question for which I I have to answer to become a true Indian. Am I right?
Ahsaas: You are one-hundred percent right but how did you know what I was going to tell you?
Aarna: Best friends know everything and that is called friendship and experience.
Ahsaas: Woah! You should become a Poet for you poetry and quotations and that is the reason you get good marks in English.
Aarna: Nice joke! and no I get good marks in English because I work ward and study well unlike someone in this room.
Ahsaas: Maybe I didn't get more than you in English but I got more than you in Social. Now what do you have to say for yourself?
Aarna: First thing is first, we are friends and not enemies so let us stop bickering over marks and all.
Ahsaas: Ok and you are right!
Aarna: Of course I am right. I am the older one here.
Ahsaas: (grumpy)You are older than me only by one month and 3 days so don't think that you play dictator like Hitler and dictate, I am my own person.
Aarna: I am so so sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry if I offended you in any way.
Ahsaas: It's fine. You are my best friend.
Aarna: The topic was deviated so you were going to ask me a question, right?
Ahsaas: Yes, I completely forgot about that so here is the question which will determine if you are a true Indian- So a farmer is stuck in a traffic jam so then what is it called?
Aarna: ( thinking) I don't know!
Ahsaas: The answer to my great question is- Kissan Jam! In hindi, Farmer is known as Kissan and Kissan Jam is the most loved jam in India.
Aarna: Nice joke as usual. Okay then bye, I have to run to my home now as it is late.
Ahsaas: Bye but don't hurt yourself!
Last edited by MokshithaVedarsh (Nov. 15, 2023 14:24:05)
- MokshithaVedarsh
-
Scratcher
93 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Second Weekly. ( 1433 words)
Part 1: (432 words)
Kissan Jam- The most loved jam in India ( A humorous skit for the first part of the second weekly)
Scene 1 ( A convo between two friends)( Setting: In Ahsaas's house in Delhi, India)
Characters:
Ahsaas- 13-year-old girl
Aarna- 13-year-old girl.
( Ahsaas and Aarna are school friends.)
Ahsaas: Hi Aarna! How are you?
Aarna: Hi Ahsaas! I am good. What about you?
Ahsaas: Me? I'm fine but tell me are you a true Indian?
Aarna: Yes, of course. ( with suspicion) Why are asking this? What are you up to?
Ahsaas: Nothing. Just wanted to know because….
Aarna: (Interrupts) You wait! I know you are going to ask some question for which I I have to answer to become a true Indian. Am I right?
Ahsaas: You are one-hundred percent right but how did you know what I was going to tell you?
Aarna: Best friends know everything and that is called friendship and experience.
Ahsaas: Woah! You should become a Poet for you poetry and quotations and that is the reason you get good marks in English.
Aarna: Nice joke! and no I get good marks in English because I work ward and study well unlike someone in this room.
Ahsaas: Maybe I didn't get more than you in English but I got more than you in Social. Now what do you have to say for yourself?
Aarna: First thing is first, we are friends and not enemies so let us stop bickering over marks and all.
Ahsaas: Ok and you are right!
Aarna: Of course I am right. I am the older one here.
Ahsaas: (grumpy)You are older than me only by one month and 3 days so don't think that you play dictator like Hitler and dictate, I am my own person.
Aarna: I am so so sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry if I offended you in any way.
Ahsaas: It's fine. You are my best friend.
Aarna: The topic was deviated so you were going to ask me a question, right?
Ahsaas: Yes, I completely forgot about that so here is the question which will determine if you are a true Indian- So a farmer is stuck in a traffic jam so then what is it called?
Aarna: ( thinking) I don't know!
Ahsaas: The answer to my great question is- Kissan Jam! In hindi, Farmer is known as Kissan and Kissan Jam is the most loved jam in India.
Aarna: Nice joke as usual. Okay then bye, I have to run to my home now as it is late.
Ahsaas: Bye but don't hurt yourself!
Part 2 ( 272 words):
Kissan Jam- A song Parodie
( Note: It is kind of a ad for Kissan Jam which I created- I wonder if they would us my ad idea and writing to advertise- Just kidding)
We like to eat, we like to play,
We like hop, We like to Jump,
We like to run, We like to Study
and guess what? We always win.
Even if we loose, we still win as
us trying only makes all the difference.
We always move forward, forward, forward.
and just like us Kissan Jam moves forward which makes us feel proud.
Want to know why? Then just hold back those words as you are going to get an answer from me.
Oh( and some drum roll please and also those suspense but fun music please) We are Kissan( farmers) and our every ingredient is
( with slow motion and chorus) Original and organic.
Farmers always move forward even if they have hardships
So guess what? We also move forward just like them by eating-
( Loudly and proudly) Kissan Jam.
This Jam has all those nutrients that people talk about but there is something in this which attract me and others-
This Jam is sweet but savory in a way.
This Jam has all those stuff which makes me proud and healthy.
Kissan Jam is the key to success.
All successful people in this world had a bite of Kissan Jam so
If you wanna be successful then add Kissan Jam to your diet and taste the success essence of this magical and timeless Jam
Jai Kissan Jam!
*Jai means Lon Live and yes you guessed it- in Hindi
Part 3( 729 words):
Cabin Wars with Kissan Jam:
“Are you Ready for the Ultimate Cabin war between my cabin and the opponent cabin- Myth” I said from behind, startling wild. I knew if we don't win this battle then it would be a shame and a disgrace to the almighty cabin- Dystopian- mirror verse. I prepared myself for this battle for so long and in this battle we don't have any swords, shields or any of those violent weapons. We only have two weapons which are our pen and our brain( powerhouse of our creativity). ( A small promotion of Kissan Jam- you know fan following): We like to eat, we like to play, We like hop, We like to Jump, We like to run, We like to Study and guess what? We always win. Even if we loose, we still win as us trying only makes all the difference. We always move forward, forward, forward.
and just like us Kissan Jam moves forward which makes us feel proud. Want to know why? Then just hold back those words as you are going to get an answer from me. Oh( and some drum roll please and also those suspense but fun music please) We are Kissan( farmers) and our every ingredient is ( with slow motion and chorus) Original and organic. Farmers always move forward even if they have hardships So guess what? We also move forward just like them by eating ( Loudly and proudly) Kissan Jam. This Jam has all those nutrients that people talk about but there is something in this which attract me and others. This Jam is sweet but savory in a way. This Jam has all those stuff which makes me proud and healthy. Kissan Jam is the key to success. All successful people in this world had a bite of Kissan Jam so If you wanna be successful then add Kissan Jam to your diet and taste the success essence of this magical and timeless Jam. Singing this song gave so much motivation that I ate the jam with my milk bread and it was so so tasty. Ok, so enough of food and jams( But I was able to war with myth(cabin) only by eating Kissan Jam).Now it is time to write with the real weapons of life- pen and our brain. So after whacking my brain I was finally able to write a story which helped me win the war, let me write a synopsis for you. So I am started writing a novel which is named as- The legacy and I only completed my first chapter which is named as The chocking discovery. So the main characters are- Aria ( who was though dead and a very skilled spy, warrior and most importantly a lovely sister to Carmi) and Carmi ( sister of Aria and the person who continue her sister's legacy). The first scene opens like this- Aria dies in Carmi's lap while protecting her from a dangerous and a deadly mission. Now the legacy Carmi had to continue was- She had to lead the team which consisted of elite people who protected the world from the evils. The team consisted of 4 members- Carmi-The leader and a super stealth spy, Davian- The Hacker, Rose- The Doctor, Hawk- A Robotics engineer and a weirdo who wanted to be a spy and so spy in training. Some robberies have been taking place all across the town and so the team began their investigation and found a strand of hair which they took for testing to Rose and she did a shocking discovery- The hair strand that Carmi bought from the crime scene belongs to none other than Aria–Carmi's older sister; I have triple checked and it is indeed her and the hair had fallen out maybe a few hours before. This was still unbelievable as she dies in Aria's lap. Do you like this twist in the tale? I did like this twist so I wrote this and I am thinking of completing this and entering it as my entry for the upcoming writing competition in the junior category as I am still not that confident with my writing skills. So we successfully won all the cabin wars and yes even the myth war and didn't even lose a single war which is remarkable and I am proud of that. So ya Adios or bye.
Thank you.
Last edited by MokshithaVedarsh (Nov. 16, 2023 14:13:36)
- --kitti-kat--
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
The Explanation Behind Why I Haven't Written Anything Yet
Writing Comp Entry || non-fanfic (hopefully? Some people brought up the point that it could be considered SWC fanfic) || 894 words
Small note if you're confused, everything not in italics is dialogue. The stuff in quotes is said by the character Mango, and the stuff not in quotes is said by the creator of Mango. Stuff in italics is the rest of the writing/thoughts from the creator.
ALSO, the whole thing about the character being named Mango was NOT intended to be a reference to SWC- my OC's name is Mango and I continuously forget that SWC's thing is mangoes as well…
It all started with a kid named Mango-
Wait, where did Mango go? My page is empty… I swear Mango was just here…
“OVER HERE SILLY!”
Huh? Where? Mango, wherever you are, come back here! I need you for another story! For the writing competition! Come on, I want to get some kind of prize this session!
I flipped the page to find Mango just relaxing on the other side where I had been looking for the past 30 seconds.
“I honestly don't feel like going on another stupid adventure. I was really looking forward to finishing my Mario & Luigi game I just got.”
But- but you're MY character! You can't just say no to what I tell you! It's like defying your own parents!
“You do it all the time, I don't see why I can't.”
YOU LEAVE ME AND MY PARENTS’ RELATIONSHIP OUT OF THIS! GET BACK ON THE OTHER PAGE AND START DOING WHAT I WRITE!
Mango crossed their arms, showing that they were not at all pleased at what I was telling them to do. I did nothing but sigh in response.
You uncooperative little child… you do realize that doing nothing will make us automatically lose the competition. And it doesn't help that you haven't cooperated at all this session.
I looked back at Mango to see them sketch a drawing of Luigi on the page. I never knew that it was possible for a drawing to draw a drawing on the same piece of paper the drawing was drawn on.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn't really listening. I was thinking of a really cute scene from the game I'm currently playing. I’m thinking about it so much I had to draw it. Continue. I might actually listen this time.”
I grunted in frustration, my teeth clenching furiously. Why did my own character have to be so stubborn and ignorant? Oh… wait… that might've come from me a bit… but that didn't help that I was very upset. What was I supposed to do? Hours of thinking of a really cool plot is now wasted because of this little spoiled sketch of a brat!
Mango… I'll give you a treat of some kind. Or I'll sketch you a friend, if you just cooperate with my ideas for an hour or two.
“No. Mostly because I know very well that you'll procrastinate and take a few days. I don't wanna stand around, waiting for you to write a single word.”
Oh goodness, they were right about that one… when have I not procrastinated on a piece of literature? I had to think of some way to tell Mango to cut it out for a bit. I watched them pick up their Nintendo 3DS and start playing their game again.
Ugh, fine, if you won't listen, I'll just…
I pulled out an eraser in the most threatening way possible.
“Oh no, not the eraser…”
The sarcasm in their voice was loud and clear. That made me even more frustrated, so I pointed the eraser at them, placed it down near their hand, and erased the entire 3DS away.
“Hey! What was that for!?”
I’m trying to teach that when you don’t listen to me, consequences happen.
“Bro, can't you just chill and let me do my own thing for a bit?”
No, because this is urgent! I need you right now!!!
I ran away from the notebook, screaming. I spun myself in circles, yelling and muttering for a few minutes, much longer than I needed to. When I returned, I found Mango had drawn themself another 3DS to play on.
“Now that you're done with your little temper tantrum, why don't you go bug some of your other characters for help.”
No, all of them suck. Aside from Mav, but if I were to add Mav in my story, I need you in it.
“I'm gonna tell them you said that about them…”
Mango, still having their eyes completely focused on their game, leaned towards the edge of the page.
“HEY GUYS! OUR CREATOR SAID SOMETH-”
I closed the book, knowing that Mango would be silenced and wouldn't even be aware. I reopened it, seeing Mango engrossed in their game again, not saying another word. I sighed in relief, glad I wouldn't have to deal with my whole roster of characters bugging me.
“So… I won? I can just chill?”
No, you still need to help with my story. You've procrastinated on helping me with everything this entire session. Hurry up before I give you more trauma in your backstory.
Mango looked up at me, mildly afraid.
“You monster… you wouldn't do that…”
Yes I would. You wanna find out?
“No, not really… but I'm too lazy to be your main character. Instead, why not make this whole feud between us your dumb little entry…”
I was about to talk back at them, but I hesitated. That was genuinely a good idea. I thought about it for a bit more, and started making some cool scenarios of what would happen in this story. So I ran off to grab another notebook, and write my new story.
“Where are you going?”
To write, silly.
And, so now here you are, reading this story, finally understanding how I got here, how come I've contributed so little to this session.
It was merely Mango's fault.
Writing Comp Entry || non-fanfic (hopefully? Some people brought up the point that it could be considered SWC fanfic) || 894 words
Small note if you're confused, everything not in italics is dialogue. The stuff in quotes is said by the character Mango, and the stuff not in quotes is said by the creator of Mango. Stuff in italics is the rest of the writing/thoughts from the creator.
ALSO, the whole thing about the character being named Mango was NOT intended to be a reference to SWC- my OC's name is Mango and I continuously forget that SWC's thing is mangoes as well…
It all started with a kid named Mango-
Wait, where did Mango go? My page is empty… I swear Mango was just here…
“OVER HERE SILLY!”
Huh? Where? Mango, wherever you are, come back here! I need you for another story! For the writing competition! Come on, I want to get some kind of prize this session!
I flipped the page to find Mango just relaxing on the other side where I had been looking for the past 30 seconds.
“I honestly don't feel like going on another stupid adventure. I was really looking forward to finishing my Mario & Luigi game I just got.”
But- but you're MY character! You can't just say no to what I tell you! It's like defying your own parents!
“You do it all the time, I don't see why I can't.”
YOU LEAVE ME AND MY PARENTS’ RELATIONSHIP OUT OF THIS! GET BACK ON THE OTHER PAGE AND START DOING WHAT I WRITE!
Mango crossed their arms, showing that they were not at all pleased at what I was telling them to do. I did nothing but sigh in response.
You uncooperative little child… you do realize that doing nothing will make us automatically lose the competition. And it doesn't help that you haven't cooperated at all this session.
I looked back at Mango to see them sketch a drawing of Luigi on the page. I never knew that it was possible for a drawing to draw a drawing on the same piece of paper the drawing was drawn on.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn't really listening. I was thinking of a really cute scene from the game I'm currently playing. I’m thinking about it so much I had to draw it. Continue. I might actually listen this time.”
I grunted in frustration, my teeth clenching furiously. Why did my own character have to be so stubborn and ignorant? Oh… wait… that might've come from me a bit… but that didn't help that I was very upset. What was I supposed to do? Hours of thinking of a really cool plot is now wasted because of this little spoiled sketch of a brat!
Mango… I'll give you a treat of some kind. Or I'll sketch you a friend, if you just cooperate with my ideas for an hour or two.
“No. Mostly because I know very well that you'll procrastinate and take a few days. I don't wanna stand around, waiting for you to write a single word.”
Oh goodness, they were right about that one… when have I not procrastinated on a piece of literature? I had to think of some way to tell Mango to cut it out for a bit. I watched them pick up their Nintendo 3DS and start playing their game again.
Ugh, fine, if you won't listen, I'll just…
I pulled out an eraser in the most threatening way possible.
“Oh no, not the eraser…”
The sarcasm in their voice was loud and clear. That made me even more frustrated, so I pointed the eraser at them, placed it down near their hand, and erased the entire 3DS away.
“Hey! What was that for!?”
I’m trying to teach that when you don’t listen to me, consequences happen.
“Bro, can't you just chill and let me do my own thing for a bit?”
No, because this is urgent! I need you right now!!!
I ran away from the notebook, screaming. I spun myself in circles, yelling and muttering for a few minutes, much longer than I needed to. When I returned, I found Mango had drawn themself another 3DS to play on.
“Now that you're done with your little temper tantrum, why don't you go bug some of your other characters for help.”
No, all of them suck. Aside from Mav, but if I were to add Mav in my story, I need you in it.
“I'm gonna tell them you said that about them…”
Mango, still having their eyes completely focused on their game, leaned towards the edge of the page.
“HEY GUYS! OUR CREATOR SAID SOMETH-”
I closed the book, knowing that Mango would be silenced and wouldn't even be aware. I reopened it, seeing Mango engrossed in their game again, not saying another word. I sighed in relief, glad I wouldn't have to deal with my whole roster of characters bugging me.
“So… I won? I can just chill?”
No, you still need to help with my story. You've procrastinated on helping me with everything this entire session. Hurry up before I give you more trauma in your backstory.
Mango looked up at me, mildly afraid.
“You monster… you wouldn't do that…”
Yes I would. You wanna find out?
“No, not really… but I'm too lazy to be your main character. Instead, why not make this whole feud between us your dumb little entry…”
I was about to talk back at them, but I hesitated. That was genuinely a good idea. I thought about it for a bit more, and started making some cool scenarios of what would happen in this story. So I ran off to grab another notebook, and write my new story.
“Where are you going?”
To write, silly.
And, so now here you are, reading this story, finally understanding how I got here, how come I've contributed so little to this session.
It was merely Mango's fault.
Last edited by --kitti-kat-- (Nov. 16, 2023 02:23:05)
- ChueyTheCat
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
❧ nov. 15: The Magical Wonderful Exploding Keyboard (Oops) - 660 words
I stare at the keyboard in front of me and wonder what to do next. I am in complete control of my destiny for once, and I have to admit, it feels rather strange. I decide to test my new abilities by doing something dumb, as usual. My fingers fly over the keyboard as I type, “Summon babies falling from the ceiling.” I’d originally intended to write “bananas,” but I made a split-second decision and changed my mind.
Of course, I didn’t account for the fact that live human beings would then fall from the ceiling. I quickly correct it to, “and then have them vanish or something lol.”
Fine. They’re gone. That was kind of anticlimactic, honestly–at least for me. I’ve done stranger things than that.
But hey, I hold the universe in my palm now. What else can I do? Anything, as long as I have the keyboard in front of me.
I start typing again. “Make candies that taste like purple.” Oh, should I have specified the amount? I don’t want infinite candies; that could be bad. How would I move around? Thankfully, though, only about a dozen appear, and I unwrap one and put it in my mouth. It’s purple, all right. Some people might call it “grape flavored,” but let’s face it–it tastes nothing like actual grapes. The thought makes me think of a girl I met at camp who remarked that the Chips-Ahoy cookies tasted just like fresh baked ones, and I snicker quietly to myself. I wonder what her point of comparison was? Microwaved Chips-Ahoy packages?
Whatever. I shouldn’t be mean. I focus on typing instead.
What next? Ooh, maybe a kitten I wouldn’t be allergic to. That’d be nice. I summon one, and it appears, but smoke also starts trailing out from under the keyboard.
Um, whoops. I feel a small spike of what some people might call alarm. That isn’t supposed to happen. Or wasn’t. Or…well. I don’t really know, actually, because I forgot to read the instruction manual.
Okay, so it wasn’t so much “forgetting” as “purposefully ignoring it because there’s literally a super-awesome gadget in front of me, why would I waste time reading some boring manual?” Still. Things can’t go too badly, can they? It’s just a keyboard.
A keyboard that controls the flow of reality–but I never was one for the small details. Leave ‘em to the experts, I always say. Not that I’m not an expert, of course.
I brush all concerns from my mind and try to think about what to summon next. A fictional character? That might get a little sticky. I mean, we all love them, but bringing them into existence…tempting, but I’ll wait until I’m more sure of my capabilities. Instead, I summon a pair of fishbowl platform shoes, because why not?
The keyboard is definitely heating up, and the smoke is starting to make me cough, but I wave it away. I’ll just play with it for a little bit longer, then report back to my superiors that I found the artifact. Surely they won’t mind if I wait a few more moments? When will I get a chance like this again?
I type up a bowl of macaroni and cheese, but even as I pretend that nothing is wrong as I bury my face in the cheesy steam, the keyboard is starting to rattle and shake, and my alarm is quickly spiraling into fear.
But…magic keyboard. Come on, when have I ever had the chance to mess with something this awesome? Just a few more minutes, I think, reaching for the artifact again. It scorches my fingers, and I type “ice cube” as quickly as I can, yelping a bit. Okay. Playtime is over, this thing is clearly malfunctioning. I use the ice cube to tap out one last thing I’ve always wanted.
I never finish it, because the silly artifact explodes in my face.
So much for the kitten.
I stare at the keyboard in front of me and wonder what to do next. I am in complete control of my destiny for once, and I have to admit, it feels rather strange. I decide to test my new abilities by doing something dumb, as usual. My fingers fly over the keyboard as I type, “Summon babies falling from the ceiling.” I’d originally intended to write “bananas,” but I made a split-second decision and changed my mind.
Of course, I didn’t account for the fact that live human beings would then fall from the ceiling. I quickly correct it to, “and then have them vanish or something lol.”
Fine. They’re gone. That was kind of anticlimactic, honestly–at least for me. I’ve done stranger things than that.
But hey, I hold the universe in my palm now. What else can I do? Anything, as long as I have the keyboard in front of me.
I start typing again. “Make candies that taste like purple.” Oh, should I have specified the amount? I don’t want infinite candies; that could be bad. How would I move around? Thankfully, though, only about a dozen appear, and I unwrap one and put it in my mouth. It’s purple, all right. Some people might call it “grape flavored,” but let’s face it–it tastes nothing like actual grapes. The thought makes me think of a girl I met at camp who remarked that the Chips-Ahoy cookies tasted just like fresh baked ones, and I snicker quietly to myself. I wonder what her point of comparison was? Microwaved Chips-Ahoy packages?
Whatever. I shouldn’t be mean. I focus on typing instead.
What next? Ooh, maybe a kitten I wouldn’t be allergic to. That’d be nice. I summon one, and it appears, but smoke also starts trailing out from under the keyboard.
Um, whoops. I feel a small spike of what some people might call alarm. That isn’t supposed to happen. Or wasn’t. Or…well. I don’t really know, actually, because I forgot to read the instruction manual.
Okay, so it wasn’t so much “forgetting” as “purposefully ignoring it because there’s literally a super-awesome gadget in front of me, why would I waste time reading some boring manual?” Still. Things can’t go too badly, can they? It’s just a keyboard.
A keyboard that controls the flow of reality–but I never was one for the small details. Leave ‘em to the experts, I always say. Not that I’m not an expert, of course.
I brush all concerns from my mind and try to think about what to summon next. A fictional character? That might get a little sticky. I mean, we all love them, but bringing them into existence…tempting, but I’ll wait until I’m more sure of my capabilities. Instead, I summon a pair of fishbowl platform shoes, because why not?
The keyboard is definitely heating up, and the smoke is starting to make me cough, but I wave it away. I’ll just play with it for a little bit longer, then report back to my superiors that I found the artifact. Surely they won’t mind if I wait a few more moments? When will I get a chance like this again?
I type up a bowl of macaroni and cheese, but even as I pretend that nothing is wrong as I bury my face in the cheesy steam, the keyboard is starting to rattle and shake, and my alarm is quickly spiraling into fear.
But…magic keyboard. Come on, when have I ever had the chance to mess with something this awesome? Just a few more minutes, I think, reaching for the artifact again. It scorches my fingers, and I type “ice cube” as quickly as I can, yelping a bit. Okay. Playtime is over, this thing is clearly malfunctioning. I use the ice cube to tap out one last thing I’ve always wanted.
I never finish it, because the silly artifact explodes in my face.
So much for the kitten.
- Rey_venclaw
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
daily!!
This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening.
I have three N.E.W.T. exams on the day of the full moon. And these aren’t only with Hogwarts professors, there’ll be other professionals from a variety of specialties there for some of the exams, or for a worse situation they might be overseen by Ministry representatives. This means I can’t cancel, they’ll not only be suspicious if I do but it’s not the kind of thing you can easily reschedule so I’d have to retake the year, and if that happens then by the time I get out of this place, all my friends might be dead due to the war. So my only real option is to go anyway. But this also means I can’t, and I mean really can’t, show at all that I might not feel good, might not be performing my best, might have something going on. Because the Ministry is on high alert and lookout for werewolves ever since the Greyback attacks a few months ago. And so if it’s a full moon and they see someone acting suspicious, like maybe they feel strange, I’m sure they’ll investigate that. And not only would they force me to register if that happened, they’d probably kill me.
I realize that I suddenly stopped moving when I notice Sirius moving around in a ridiculous manner, waving his arms frantically in my face. “Oy! Moony! Did you go and become a statue all of a sudden? What happened?”
I don’t say anything. Instead I shove the paper I was reading over, the one with my exam schedule on it, harshly into my boyfriend’s face.
“Whoa, Moony,” he says. But he takes it in his hands and begins to read.
I see the second he spots what I spotted.
“Oh no.” He says. Then he says it twice more.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. There’s something in my voice right now that makes it sound like I’m about to cry. Fantastic.
“I’m sure we can figure out something,” Sirius says. “I’m sure we can let everyone know, or… No. No, we can’t do that, of course not. Well, we can talk to Dumbledore, get him to reschedule or something?”
“Sirius, stop. It’s too late.”
“Polyjuice potion!” Sirius exclaims. “You take my N.E.W.T.S. and I take yours. We’re in mostly the same classes and basically share a brain anyway.”
“They have tests for that kind of thing,” I say glumly.
Sirius sighs. “Okay, Moony. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll figure something out, Siri. I promise you. I’ll be fine.”
This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening.
I have three N.E.W.T. exams on the day of the full moon. And these aren’t only with Hogwarts professors, there’ll be other professionals from a variety of specialties there for some of the exams, or for a worse situation they might be overseen by Ministry representatives. This means I can’t cancel, they’ll not only be suspicious if I do but it’s not the kind of thing you can easily reschedule so I’d have to retake the year, and if that happens then by the time I get out of this place, all my friends might be dead due to the war. So my only real option is to go anyway. But this also means I can’t, and I mean really can’t, show at all that I might not feel good, might not be performing my best, might have something going on. Because the Ministry is on high alert and lookout for werewolves ever since the Greyback attacks a few months ago. And so if it’s a full moon and they see someone acting suspicious, like maybe they feel strange, I’m sure they’ll investigate that. And not only would they force me to register if that happened, they’d probably kill me.
I realize that I suddenly stopped moving when I notice Sirius moving around in a ridiculous manner, waving his arms frantically in my face. “Oy! Moony! Did you go and become a statue all of a sudden? What happened?”
I don’t say anything. Instead I shove the paper I was reading over, the one with my exam schedule on it, harshly into my boyfriend’s face.
“Whoa, Moony,” he says. But he takes it in his hands and begins to read.
I see the second he spots what I spotted.
“Oh no.” He says. Then he says it twice more.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. There’s something in my voice right now that makes it sound like I’m about to cry. Fantastic.
“I’m sure we can figure out something,” Sirius says. “I’m sure we can let everyone know, or… No. No, we can’t do that, of course not. Well, we can talk to Dumbledore, get him to reschedule or something?”
“Sirius, stop. It’s too late.”
“Polyjuice potion!” Sirius exclaims. “You take my N.E.W.T.S. and I take yours. We’re in mostly the same classes and basically share a brain anyway.”
“They have tests for that kind of thing,” I say glumly.
Sirius sighs. “Okay, Moony. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll figure something out, Siri. I promise you. I’ll be fine.”
- superdidi2012
-
Scratcher
48 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Excerpt of “Nightmares” by me
Tw: claustrophobia, fear, anxiety?
453 words
You sprint down the dark alleyway, panting as adrenaline runs through your veins. You stop to take a breath, only to continue running when you hear the once-faint footsteps getting louder and louder, closer and closer. A spider drops down next to you and you try to quickly move your face away, but still touch it. One or two or three of its slimy legs brush against your face, but you barely notice because of the man chasing you (even though you have horrible arachnophobia). Suddenly, you bump into a hard, brick wall. You turn around and around, trying to find some other way out, but you’re surrounded in every direction. You know you won’t make it out in time, but you’re not quite sure what “in time” means. Is it before that thing catches up to you? Before the walls close in on you? Before you just stop trying and let the bugs get to you?
No. You can’t stop. You have to make it out, have to get back to your old life- if it even still exists. What if you’ve ruined everything? What if everyone else can return except for you? No, you chide yourself, once again. You can’t think like that. It’ll all be okay. You’ve almost convinced yourself completely and a little bit of hope, a little bit of comfort, floods your mind. At least, until it touches you. You don’t know what it is and don’t want to turn around to find out. At least, you think you don’t want to find out. Even though everything you’ve learned tells you not to, you turn around. And when you do, you find yourself staring it right in the face. It smiles at you, tries to pretend everything’ll be all right. But you know it won’t. The situation catches up to you and you try to tell someone what’s happening. Try to make a single noise. But you can’t.
Suddenly, you figure it out. There is a noise you can make. You do it. You suck in all the air possible, until it feels like your lungs are going to explode. You do it, with the power of every ounce of fear and adrenaline and panic filling up your body. You scream.
You don’t know when it’ll end. You try to open your eyes (which you just realized were closed) only to see darkness, real darkness. You’re about to scream again when something awakens you. Or is it someone? You don’t know and can’t figure out whether to stay or go. Both worlds are equally horrible. In the end, you open your eyes, only to see the worried faces of your parents towering over you. “Are you okay, honey?”
Tw: claustrophobia, fear, anxiety?
453 words
You sprint down the dark alleyway, panting as adrenaline runs through your veins. You stop to take a breath, only to continue running when you hear the once-faint footsteps getting louder and louder, closer and closer. A spider drops down next to you and you try to quickly move your face away, but still touch it. One or two or three of its slimy legs brush against your face, but you barely notice because of the man chasing you (even though you have horrible arachnophobia). Suddenly, you bump into a hard, brick wall. You turn around and around, trying to find some other way out, but you’re surrounded in every direction. You know you won’t make it out in time, but you’re not quite sure what “in time” means. Is it before that thing catches up to you? Before the walls close in on you? Before you just stop trying and let the bugs get to you?
No. You can’t stop. You have to make it out, have to get back to your old life- if it even still exists. What if you’ve ruined everything? What if everyone else can return except for you? No, you chide yourself, once again. You can’t think like that. It’ll all be okay. You’ve almost convinced yourself completely and a little bit of hope, a little bit of comfort, floods your mind. At least, until it touches you. You don’t know what it is and don’t want to turn around to find out. At least, you think you don’t want to find out. Even though everything you’ve learned tells you not to, you turn around. And when you do, you find yourself staring it right in the face. It smiles at you, tries to pretend everything’ll be all right. But you know it won’t. The situation catches up to you and you try to tell someone what’s happening. Try to make a single noise. But you can’t.
Suddenly, you figure it out. There is a noise you can make. You do it. You suck in all the air possible, until it feels like your lungs are going to explode. You do it, with the power of every ounce of fear and adrenaline and panic filling up your body. You scream.
You don’t know when it’ll end. You try to open your eyes (which you just realized were closed) only to see darkness, real darkness. You’re about to scream again when something awakens you. Or is it someone? You don’t know and can’t figure out whether to stay or go. Both worlds are equally horrible. In the end, you open your eyes, only to see the worried faces of your parents towering over you. “Are you okay, honey?”
Last edited by superdidi2012 (Nov. 17, 2023 01:58:05)
- booklover883322
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
3: Let the Characters take control
Word Count: 492/400
Date Completed (for me): 11/15/23
Time Completed (UTC): 11:21pm
Time Completed (MST): 4:21pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/
Mica leaned down and stared at the scene below her. The city burned, so many buildings were up in flames. Her first inclination was to check her phone. No texts, though there was still service. She sighed and put the phone back into her pocket. She needed to know Lory was okay. After scanning her surroundings again, she took her phone and texted her girlfriend, hoping desperately for a response. None came, though there was a bubble that showed that she was texting, but the bubble faded, no text coming through. Mica become increasingly worried for her. She had no way of getting to Lory though. Did she? She scanned her surroundings, and after a moment’s deliberation she jumped into her car and drove towards their apartment. Lory should be there. She had to be there. She had to. Mica sped through the streets, dodging debris that had fallen from buildings. She drove as calmly as she could to the apartment building. She knew this was crazy, but it made sense to her. And that’s all that mattered.
Lory looked out of the window of her apartment. Flames were so close, she could almost touch them. But she didn’t, because that was insane. She pulled out her phone and started typing a text to Mica, but decided against it. She’d text her once she was out of the building. She put the phone away and went out of the small apartment and into the larger building. She glanced around, trying to remember where the exit was. Every smelled of smoke, but the hallway she was in wasn’t so saturated that she couldn’t breath normally. She ran toward the nearest known exit and started descending the stairs. She jumped down a few and skipped down the rest. Oh WHY did they have to live on the top floor? She leaped down a few steps, hoping she could make it outside before anything bad happened. The stairs were sturdy, though their metal handrails were starting to become hot, which didn’t reassure her.
Mica parked the car on the outside of the building. Luckily, this one hadn’t been set on fire, but it was so close to other buildings that had that it was very likely that it woud catch fire soon. She ran in without a second thought, calling Lory as she scanned the first floor frantically. Lory didn’t pick up, which worried her. She was about to climb up onto another level when she heard a delicate shout, “Mica!”
Mica perked up and ran towards the noise. Hopefully she was okay.
Lory spotted her and bolted toward her, and the two met in the middle.
Mica clamped her arms around her partner, hugging her tightly, “Thank goodness, you’re safe.”
Lory buried her head into Mica’s shoulder, not replying. But she was safe, and so was Mica. They were together, and that’s what mattered.
The two hurried out of the building, safe and together.
Word Count: 492/400
Date Completed (for me): 11/15/23
Time Completed (UTC): 11:21pm
Time Completed (MST): 4:21pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/
Mica leaned down and stared at the scene below her. The city burned, so many buildings were up in flames. Her first inclination was to check her phone. No texts, though there was still service. She sighed and put the phone back into her pocket. She needed to know Lory was okay. After scanning her surroundings again, she took her phone and texted her girlfriend, hoping desperately for a response. None came, though there was a bubble that showed that she was texting, but the bubble faded, no text coming through. Mica become increasingly worried for her. She had no way of getting to Lory though. Did she? She scanned her surroundings, and after a moment’s deliberation she jumped into her car and drove towards their apartment. Lory should be there. She had to be there. She had to. Mica sped through the streets, dodging debris that had fallen from buildings. She drove as calmly as she could to the apartment building. She knew this was crazy, but it made sense to her. And that’s all that mattered.
Lory looked out of the window of her apartment. Flames were so close, she could almost touch them. But she didn’t, because that was insane. She pulled out her phone and started typing a text to Mica, but decided against it. She’d text her once she was out of the building. She put the phone away and went out of the small apartment and into the larger building. She glanced around, trying to remember where the exit was. Every smelled of smoke, but the hallway she was in wasn’t so saturated that she couldn’t breath normally. She ran toward the nearest known exit and started descending the stairs. She jumped down a few and skipped down the rest. Oh WHY did they have to live on the top floor? She leaped down a few steps, hoping she could make it outside before anything bad happened. The stairs were sturdy, though their metal handrails were starting to become hot, which didn’t reassure her.
Mica parked the car on the outside of the building. Luckily, this one hadn’t been set on fire, but it was so close to other buildings that had that it was very likely that it woud catch fire soon. She ran in without a second thought, calling Lory as she scanned the first floor frantically. Lory didn’t pick up, which worried her. She was about to climb up onto another level when she heard a delicate shout, “Mica!”
Mica perked up and ran towards the noise. Hopefully she was okay.
Lory spotted her and bolted toward her, and the two met in the middle.
Mica clamped her arms around her partner, hugging her tightly, “Thank goodness, you’re safe.”
Lory buried her head into Mica’s shoulder, not replying. But she was safe, and so was Mica. They were together, and that’s what mattered.
The two hurried out of the building, safe and together.
- -WildClan-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
(Author’s note: Wild’s speech is in parentheses, Chaos’s is in quotation marks. This author’s note uses both since we co-wrote this.”
(So how do I start this, Chaos? You’re going down the hill to our little spot?)
“Correct.”
(And open the into with… what?)
“Just start with ‘I went down.’”
(Okay- First-person does make sense, since it’s from your point of view…)
I went down the hill, to that little cove by the lake.
“Oh, and can you put our song on? It’ll help with writing.”
(…Are you sure? I really like the playlist I’m already on.)
“Just do it, Wild.”
(I…)
“Do it.”
(Okay, okay! There, I changed the playlist. Can we actually get writing now?)
“Sure. But first, new idea: Transcript of this conversation in between the actual writing.”
(Oh, that’s cool actually. Sure, let me go back and add that real quick. …There, done. Back to actual writing now?)
“Of course; anything for you, Wild. ;3”
What if I didn’t have to think the same way they did? I wondered, brushing against those strange colors in my mind, the ones that had intrigued and terrified me ever since I was young and first noticed they were there.
(Ah, yes, Chaos is not like the other girls.)
“Oh, hush. I’m thinking. It’s not like you give me control as often as you should.”
(Finding out that writing is hard, isn’t it? Especially with my voice floating around in your head constantly?)
“Mutually-beneficial annoyance, is what it is.”
(What good friends we are, Chaos. ;3)
“…Yes.”
I waited for Chervil there, by the lake.
(Do we really need to reaffirm that yes, this is the lake?)
“It’s- it’s fine. Just let me write this.”
However, when Chervil didn’t show up, I let my mind wander. This was dangerous, I knew. Everyone said that poisonweed grew from the restless pawsteps of a purposeless wolf. If they knew the untended paths my thoughts tread, they’d surely view me as problematic.
“I’m not sure I translated that saying correctly. Does it make sense in your language?”
(It’s… yes, I think the concept translates. In my world, there’s a similar variation of that saying: ‘The idle mind is the Devil’s playground,’ or something like that.)
“And the saying basically means that when given too much time to think, rebellious ideas are likely to form? Or at least ideas that the authority doesn’t want you to have? An excuse for strict rules that restrict free thought and support those in power?”
( …Yeah. Yeah, pretty much. Huh. Human societies are just as messed up as yours, for the most part, aren’t they?)
“Regretfully. But you made them that way, did you not?”
(Um… kind of? But not entirely. I mean, you can make your own decisions, it’s not ALL my fault- ahah, llllet’s just move on~ oWo”)
“Alright, so the next part will be-”
(Actually, what society were you talking about when you asked your previous question? My human society or your wolf society? Because I’m realizing now that it’s kind of the same situation, but reversed: IRL, I’m a small contributor to the total messed-up-iveness- messiness?- no, messed-up-iveness is funnier- *ahem* I add only a miniscule amount to the total messed-up-iveness of my society, but I’m still responsible for my actions, even though on a large scale, nothing I do really has that big of an effect. And then in your wolf society, I set up the basics of your worldbuilding to be the way it is, effectively bringing into existence the possibility for messed-up-iveness, but you individuals are still the ones responsible for actually bringing that mess about via the collective of everyone’s actions. You get what I’m saying?)
“I love how quickly you forget about ‘let’s just move on’ and proceed to overthink literally everything.”
(…‘Literally,’ literally? Because I doubt I overthink LITERALLY everything-)
“WILD. PLEASE.”
(Pfff- xDD Fine, carry on. I just checked, we’ve already way surpassed the word goal.)
“See, this transcript was a good idea, yes? I have found a way to put your incessant rambling to use! The more we annoy each other, the more productive we are! MWAHAHAH. >
”
(lolll, true! x33 But if that’s an evil plan, you’re losing your touch for villainy~ ;P)
“Hmph. We’ll see about that…”
(…You worry me when you say things like that, Chaos.)
“Good.
”
(._.” F-finish the story now?)
“Oh, of course.”
Well, maybe ‘problematic’ wasn’t the worst thing in the Packs. There were plenty of larger troubles brewing, anyhow.
(‘Anyhow.’ I see what you’re referencing there. :’3)
“<3”
(<3)
Even poisonweed had its usefulness, after all. Even Havensbane had xis good side, and Haven and xis downfalls. Frankly, in the long run, they seemed like two sides of the same entity sometimes.
“Well, what do you know, someone finally figured it out,” I imagined xim saying to me.
“It just made sense to me,” I thought back.
“Of course it did, Chaos,” xe replied. “Of course it did.”
(So how do I start this, Chaos? You’re going down the hill to our little spot?)
“Correct.”
(And open the into with… what?)
“Just start with ‘I went down.’”
(Okay- First-person does make sense, since it’s from your point of view…)
I went down the hill, to that little cove by the lake.
“Oh, and can you put our song on? It’ll help with writing.”
(…Are you sure? I really like the playlist I’m already on.)
“Just do it, Wild.”
(I…)
“Do it.”
(Okay, okay! There, I changed the playlist. Can we actually get writing now?)
“Sure. But first, new idea: Transcript of this conversation in between the actual writing.”
(Oh, that’s cool actually. Sure, let me go back and add that real quick. …There, done. Back to actual writing now?)
“Of course; anything for you, Wild. ;3”
What if I didn’t have to think the same way they did? I wondered, brushing against those strange colors in my mind, the ones that had intrigued and terrified me ever since I was young and first noticed they were there.
(Ah, yes, Chaos is not like the other girls.)
“Oh, hush. I’m thinking. It’s not like you give me control as often as you should.”
(Finding out that writing is hard, isn’t it? Especially with my voice floating around in your head constantly?)
“Mutually-beneficial annoyance, is what it is.”
(What good friends we are, Chaos. ;3)
“…Yes.”
I waited for Chervil there, by the lake.
(Do we really need to reaffirm that yes, this is the lake?)
“It’s- it’s fine. Just let me write this.”
However, when Chervil didn’t show up, I let my mind wander. This was dangerous, I knew. Everyone said that poisonweed grew from the restless pawsteps of a purposeless wolf. If they knew the untended paths my thoughts tread, they’d surely view me as problematic.
“I’m not sure I translated that saying correctly. Does it make sense in your language?”
(It’s… yes, I think the concept translates. In my world, there’s a similar variation of that saying: ‘The idle mind is the Devil’s playground,’ or something like that.)
“And the saying basically means that when given too much time to think, rebellious ideas are likely to form? Or at least ideas that the authority doesn’t want you to have? An excuse for strict rules that restrict free thought and support those in power?”
( …Yeah. Yeah, pretty much. Huh. Human societies are just as messed up as yours, for the most part, aren’t they?)
“Regretfully. But you made them that way, did you not?”
(Um… kind of? But not entirely. I mean, you can make your own decisions, it’s not ALL my fault- ahah, llllet’s just move on~ oWo”)
“Alright, so the next part will be-”
(Actually, what society were you talking about when you asked your previous question? My human society or your wolf society? Because I’m realizing now that it’s kind of the same situation, but reversed: IRL, I’m a small contributor to the total messed-up-iveness- messiness?- no, messed-up-iveness is funnier- *ahem* I add only a miniscule amount to the total messed-up-iveness of my society, but I’m still responsible for my actions, even though on a large scale, nothing I do really has that big of an effect. And then in your wolf society, I set up the basics of your worldbuilding to be the way it is, effectively bringing into existence the possibility for messed-up-iveness, but you individuals are still the ones responsible for actually bringing that mess about via the collective of everyone’s actions. You get what I’m saying?)
“I love how quickly you forget about ‘let’s just move on’ and proceed to overthink literally everything.”
(…‘Literally,’ literally? Because I doubt I overthink LITERALLY everything-)
“WILD. PLEASE.”
(Pfff- xDD Fine, carry on. I just checked, we’ve already way surpassed the word goal.)
“See, this transcript was a good idea, yes? I have found a way to put your incessant rambling to use! The more we annoy each other, the more productive we are! MWAHAHAH. >
”(lolll, true! x33 But if that’s an evil plan, you’re losing your touch for villainy~ ;P)
“Hmph. We’ll see about that…”
(…You worry me when you say things like that, Chaos.)
“Good.
”(._.” F-finish the story now?)
“Oh, of course.”
Well, maybe ‘problematic’ wasn’t the worst thing in the Packs. There were plenty of larger troubles brewing, anyhow.
(‘Anyhow.’ I see what you’re referencing there. :’3)
“<3”
(<3)
Even poisonweed had its usefulness, after all. Even Havensbane had xis good side, and Haven and xis downfalls. Frankly, in the long run, they seemed like two sides of the same entity sometimes.
“Well, what do you know, someone finally figured it out,” I imagined xim saying to me.
“It just made sense to me,” I thought back.
“Of course it did, Chaos,” xe replied. “Of course it did.”
- Thecatperson19
-
Scratcher
63 posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
November 15 Daily
442 words
I think I let both my character and my brain free for this one …
Hail stared at the daily. She immediately knew which character she’d use. It wasn’t even a question. Her most annoying character to write, by far, will be perfect. He hated character development, after all. He hated doing what she wanted. So what would happen if she let him free? It wouldn’t be very hard to picture … hmm, pictures …
Jack stared at the picture frames perched on the shelves above his desk. He sighed and put his head in one hand, stirring a tub of half melted ice cream in the other. He drummed his fingers on his cheek. Then, he grabbed his tub of ice cream, put it in his lap, and pushed off of the desk, sending his chair spinning in lazy circles. He ate his ice cream as he spun, occasionally shoving his desk again when the chair slowed down.
He frowned as his spoon hit the bottom of the tub of ice cream.
“That sucks,” he muttered. “Okay.”
He stretched in his chair and reached over to his desk to plunk the empty ice cream tub on his desk.
“Ugh.” The desk was too far away. He drooped over the armrest, dangling his arms over the floor.
“I don’t wannaaa,” he mumbled. He waited for a beat, then began to scoot the chair closer to the desk. Satisfied, he put the ice cream tub on his desk.
“Gosh he is so pathetic when left to his own devices” Hail thought. “No! I can’t interfere, not even through helpful self-inserts.” She made a face at her screen. “Why are you like this?”
“Are you asking me or you?” Jack muttered, slouching in his chair again.
“What?”
“Well, I mean you made me up, so technically this is all your fault.” He raised his eyebrows. “Why are you like this?”
“Wha– I was in 7th grade!” Hail shot back. “I didn’t know how to make coherent characters! I have to deal with all of those problems now!”
“And you don’t even know how to fix them,” he said back.
“Why are you so snarky!?”
He made a face. “I dunno, why are you so incompetent?”
Hail tried to think of something to say, half annoyed, half amused.
Jack grinned. “I’m kidding, dude, lighten up.”
Hail huffed. “Well, still, why are you like this?”
“I’m sad.” Jack crossed his arms. “Can’t you just let me be?”
“Noo, you need character development.”
“Character development schmelovent. Can’t I just eat my ice cream in peace?”
“If you don’t get over it, I’m going to send your brother after you.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “You wouldn't.”
Hail just grinned at her screen in response.
442 words
I think I let both my character and my brain free for this one …
Hail stared at the daily. She immediately knew which character she’d use. It wasn’t even a question. Her most annoying character to write, by far, will be perfect. He hated character development, after all. He hated doing what she wanted. So what would happen if she let him free? It wouldn’t be very hard to picture … hmm, pictures …
Jack stared at the picture frames perched on the shelves above his desk. He sighed and put his head in one hand, stirring a tub of half melted ice cream in the other. He drummed his fingers on his cheek. Then, he grabbed his tub of ice cream, put it in his lap, and pushed off of the desk, sending his chair spinning in lazy circles. He ate his ice cream as he spun, occasionally shoving his desk again when the chair slowed down.
He frowned as his spoon hit the bottom of the tub of ice cream.
“That sucks,” he muttered. “Okay.”
He stretched in his chair and reached over to his desk to plunk the empty ice cream tub on his desk.
“Ugh.” The desk was too far away. He drooped over the armrest, dangling his arms over the floor.
“I don’t wannaaa,” he mumbled. He waited for a beat, then began to scoot the chair closer to the desk. Satisfied, he put the ice cream tub on his desk.
“Gosh he is so pathetic when left to his own devices” Hail thought. “No! I can’t interfere, not even through helpful self-inserts.” She made a face at her screen. “Why are you like this?”
“Are you asking me or you?” Jack muttered, slouching in his chair again.
“What?”
“Well, I mean you made me up, so technically this is all your fault.” He raised his eyebrows. “Why are you like this?”
“Wha– I was in 7th grade!” Hail shot back. “I didn’t know how to make coherent characters! I have to deal with all of those problems now!”
“And you don’t even know how to fix them,” he said back.
“Why are you so snarky!?”
He made a face. “I dunno, why are you so incompetent?”
Hail tried to think of something to say, half annoyed, half amused.
Jack grinned. “I’m kidding, dude, lighten up.”
Hail huffed. “Well, still, why are you like this?”
“I’m sad.” Jack crossed his arms. “Can’t you just let me be?”
“Noo, you need character development.”
“Character development schmelovent. Can’t I just eat my ice cream in peace?”
“If you don’t get over it, I’m going to send your brother after you.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “You wouldn't.”
Hail just grinned at her screen in response.
- Amethyst-animation
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
16/11
622 words, 500 points
(This is a pretty bad story: I wrote whatever came to mind and didn't think twice about whether it made sense. The characters were also very terribly crafted. I'm sorry that you had to deal with reading this xD)
The Shroom peers down at us.
“Children,” he begins wisely, twirling his glowing hat to tip at the bewildered kids. “You should know this. Fire is dangerous.”
Then the entire cluster erupts into laughter. It’s well-known that Fire is the weapon used by the Dark Shrooms. It’s because of Fire that we have lost so many of our own. I stand up proudly, puffing out my chest, and shout “Death to all Fire!”
“How?” asks the closest Unshroom curiously.
I wave my skinny arms around. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s some weapon out there that can conquer fire?”
The laughter dies out and everyone starts to ponder curiously. Fire waits for no one - it ravages everything in its path. It multiplies and spreads, and as it consumes more Unshrooms it grows larger. But everyone knows that what it really craves is the Shrooms. They’ve been hunted down to the point of extinction. But after a while, Fire retreats, and only leaves around a smouldering mess.
“I can try to find something!” yells a tiny voice. It’s a small female Unshroom, with an oversized head and miniscule body. The orb on the glowing antenna waves excitedly at the Shroom, trying to get its attention. “Hello, sir! Bort here! I love Shrooms, and I want to fight Fire!”
Everyone applauds the little thing’s bravery. She looks briefly proud but also immensely shy. “Bort,” calls the Shroom. “I wish our world had more Unshrooms like you. But there is nothing that can fight Fire. Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” booms a loud voice from the canopy. A shiver runs through the crowd and I leap back. A small, slim shape drops from the leaves and slams their feet onto the ground. A stranger Shroom raises its face, full of giddy excitement, and raises a leaf pouch so everyone can see. It’s dripping with… something.
Everyone starts crowding around, but it is quickly dispersed as our Shroom raises his ancient staff and digs it into the ground. It leaves a few rivulets around the surrounding crowd, and walks slowly towards the new Shroom. “A brother!” he cries out.
The new Shrooms whirls around, and its jaw gapes as it sees our Shroom. He runs towards him, yelling “Agari?!”
Agari catches the new Shroom and they hug tightly. “I thought I’d never see another Shroom again. Much less someone from my cluster! Oh, Flamm, I thought you’d died.”
Flamm smiles. “It has ravaged the rest of our cluster, my brother. It sneaked up on us as we were sleeping. I thought you were asleep when Fire came.”
“I was on guard duty, remember? How were you alive?”
“I heard something weird and went to investigate. By the time I realised it was Fire, it was too late. All I could do was run.”
“It snuck up through the canopy,” snarls Agari. “Unlike its typical low-crawling entrance. It was late at night and I was exhausted. I didn’t notice a little sliver of the Fire’s tail as it leapt onto our cluster. I have never forgiven myself.”
“So you found… an Uncluster?”
The Unshrooms peer at the unlikely pair.
“I have. They’ve all lost their clusters. We’ve formed a new one, but we worry that Fire may sneak up on-”
“I have found something that can conquer Fire!” interrupts Flamm. He’s quivering with excitement. “On my travels of revenge, I observed this creature driving away Fire.”
The entire cluster holds their breath.
Flamm upends the dripping pouch onto the ground, and something explodes out. It takes the shape of Fire, but is clear, and splashes over the nearest Unshrooms. They giggle, and the creature waves at them.
“This,” he begins with a satisfied voice. “Is the supposedly long-extinct Water.”
622 words, 500 points
(This is a pretty bad story: I wrote whatever came to mind and didn't think twice about whether it made sense. The characters were also very terribly crafted. I'm sorry that you had to deal with reading this xD)
The Shroom peers down at us.
“Children,” he begins wisely, twirling his glowing hat to tip at the bewildered kids. “You should know this. Fire is dangerous.”
Then the entire cluster erupts into laughter. It’s well-known that Fire is the weapon used by the Dark Shrooms. It’s because of Fire that we have lost so many of our own. I stand up proudly, puffing out my chest, and shout “Death to all Fire!”
“How?” asks the closest Unshroom curiously.
I wave my skinny arms around. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s some weapon out there that can conquer fire?”
The laughter dies out and everyone starts to ponder curiously. Fire waits for no one - it ravages everything in its path. It multiplies and spreads, and as it consumes more Unshrooms it grows larger. But everyone knows that what it really craves is the Shrooms. They’ve been hunted down to the point of extinction. But after a while, Fire retreats, and only leaves around a smouldering mess.
“I can try to find something!” yells a tiny voice. It’s a small female Unshroom, with an oversized head and miniscule body. The orb on the glowing antenna waves excitedly at the Shroom, trying to get its attention. “Hello, sir! Bort here! I love Shrooms, and I want to fight Fire!”
Everyone applauds the little thing’s bravery. She looks briefly proud but also immensely shy. “Bort,” calls the Shroom. “I wish our world had more Unshrooms like you. But there is nothing that can fight Fire. Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” booms a loud voice from the canopy. A shiver runs through the crowd and I leap back. A small, slim shape drops from the leaves and slams their feet onto the ground. A stranger Shroom raises its face, full of giddy excitement, and raises a leaf pouch so everyone can see. It’s dripping with… something.
Everyone starts crowding around, but it is quickly dispersed as our Shroom raises his ancient staff and digs it into the ground. It leaves a few rivulets around the surrounding crowd, and walks slowly towards the new Shroom. “A brother!” he cries out.
The new Shrooms whirls around, and its jaw gapes as it sees our Shroom. He runs towards him, yelling “Agari?!”
Agari catches the new Shroom and they hug tightly. “I thought I’d never see another Shroom again. Much less someone from my cluster! Oh, Flamm, I thought you’d died.”
Flamm smiles. “It has ravaged the rest of our cluster, my brother. It sneaked up on us as we were sleeping. I thought you were asleep when Fire came.”
“I was on guard duty, remember? How were you alive?”
“I heard something weird and went to investigate. By the time I realised it was Fire, it was too late. All I could do was run.”
“It snuck up through the canopy,” snarls Agari. “Unlike its typical low-crawling entrance. It was late at night and I was exhausted. I didn’t notice a little sliver of the Fire’s tail as it leapt onto our cluster. I have never forgiven myself.”
“So you found… an Uncluster?”
The Unshrooms peer at the unlikely pair.
“I have. They’ve all lost their clusters. We’ve formed a new one, but we worry that Fire may sneak up on-”
“I have found something that can conquer Fire!” interrupts Flamm. He’s quivering with excitement. “On my travels of revenge, I observed this creature driving away Fire.”
The entire cluster holds their breath.
Flamm upends the dripping pouch onto the ground, and something explodes out. It takes the shape of Fire, but is clear, and splashes over the nearest Unshrooms. They giggle, and the creature waves at them.
“This,” he begins with a satisfied voice. “Is the supposedly long-extinct Water.”
- -WildClan-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
critique 11-15-23
I loved it! Insects are so awesome, and it’s nice to see a poem honoring how cool they are. I didn’t see any spelling or grammar errors, and the way you worded everything was absolutely amazing. Really, the only parts I could nitpick are when certain lines are a little too long, interrupting the rhythm a little bit. The first two lines are perfect, setting up a flowing, steady pattern. I really like the line “Fireflies rise to harmonize lights” as well- so much rhyming! However, in the next stanza, “Watching each fly or crawl separate ways / Hoping they'll make most of their remaining days” sounds a bit awkward- I like the way it’s phrased, it just feels like the syllable count is a bit off. The third stanza is good- It captures the emotion and importance of the great butterfly migrations. Next, the line “They're so tiny, insignificant, surely they don't have much load to lug?” is too long; it doesn’t fit the rhythm. I’d suggest trying to find a way to shorten it. I’d remove the word “may” from the line after that as well. In the fifth stanza, the line “Termites nest and breed in these” is too short- It works, but if you want to maintain the flowing rhythm from the first stanza, then there needs to be a few more syllables in there somewhere. I like the way the stanza after that is formatted. It’s well-said, and I couldn’t find anything to improve. The seventh stanza is also good, except for the fact that “more” and “horror” don’t rhyme perfectly. I can’t think of any word you could use that would work better, though- perfect rhymes are hard, and it still sounds okay the way it is. The eighth stanza is good, but should “human make” be hyphenated? Next, “praying mantis” should be plural, “praying mantises.” Finally, the line “Returning to your summer with your hands held clasping your vessel” is too long, find a way to shorten it. Other than that, though, I adore the ending of the poem. It’s beautiful!
I loved it! Insects are so awesome, and it’s nice to see a poem honoring how cool they are. I didn’t see any spelling or grammar errors, and the way you worded everything was absolutely amazing. Really, the only parts I could nitpick are when certain lines are a little too long, interrupting the rhythm a little bit. The first two lines are perfect, setting up a flowing, steady pattern. I really like the line “Fireflies rise to harmonize lights” as well- so much rhyming! However, in the next stanza, “Watching each fly or crawl separate ways / Hoping they'll make most of their remaining days” sounds a bit awkward- I like the way it’s phrased, it just feels like the syllable count is a bit off. The third stanza is good- It captures the emotion and importance of the great butterfly migrations. Next, the line “They're so tiny, insignificant, surely they don't have much load to lug?” is too long; it doesn’t fit the rhythm. I’d suggest trying to find a way to shorten it. I’d remove the word “may” from the line after that as well. In the fifth stanza, the line “Termites nest and breed in these” is too short- It works, but if you want to maintain the flowing rhythm from the first stanza, then there needs to be a few more syllables in there somewhere. I like the way the stanza after that is formatted. It’s well-said, and I couldn’t find anything to improve. The seventh stanza is also good, except for the fact that “more” and “horror” don’t rhyme perfectly. I can’t think of any word you could use that would work better, though- perfect rhymes are hard, and it still sounds okay the way it is. The eighth stanza is good, but should “human make” be hyphenated? Next, “praying mantis” should be plural, “praying mantises.” Finally, the line “Returning to your summer with your hands held clasping your vessel” is too long, find a way to shorten it. Other than that, though, I adore the ending of the poem. It’s beautiful!
- minergold48
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Daily 11/15 || 406 words
Paulina woke up in her bed, the same bed that she had slept in throughout her childhood. She and her friends were staying over at Mariano’s for the weekend, and she was determined to have as much fun as possible. She hopped out of bed, saying good morning to the chaos emeralds in their special language, before walking out into the living room. “Heyo,” Walnut said, chilling on the couch waving at her as she came out, Paulina waving back. “Hello!” She went over to him, smiling when she saw Springfield, still asleep, laying on his side. She meeped when she felt Bagliora giving her a hug, and looked down at her little buddy, smiling warmly. “Is Dad still sleeping?” she asked her, and the glowbug-kitsune nodded. “Well, okay then,” she said, wondering what she should do. Deciding that going for a run would be a fun prospect, she waved goodbye to her companions and went outside, leaving her satchel of chaos emeralds by the door. She smiled as she felt the warm sun on her quills, before beginning to run down the sidewalk. Not interested in forcing herself to go at a normal pace, she sped around casually, far from her top speed, but a lot quicker than the normal person would run. She noticed the fountain in the plaza, and paused, turning to look at it. She remembered an old friend of hers, who she hadn’t seen in years. The two of them had tossed coins into the fountain and had made wishes, and although Paulina couldn’t even remember what hers had been, it didn’t change the fact that it had been a nice memory. She smiled a bit, deciding that she’d go and see that squirrel again one day. She waved to one of the random bystanders at the fountain, before running off again. Some of the people she passed she had known since her childhood, others had first gotten their taste of the hyper hedgehog when she had visited Mariano to spend time with Springfield, and still others were new to the little town hardly half an hour away from Exlin City, and were mildly surprised to see a kid with bright pink quills and super speed powers running around. She stopped back at Mariano’s house, going inside just as her adopted father was coming out of his room. The two embraced, Paulina beaming. She was going to have a great weekend.
Paulina woke up in her bed, the same bed that she had slept in throughout her childhood. She and her friends were staying over at Mariano’s for the weekend, and she was determined to have as much fun as possible. She hopped out of bed, saying good morning to the chaos emeralds in their special language, before walking out into the living room. “Heyo,” Walnut said, chilling on the couch waving at her as she came out, Paulina waving back. “Hello!” She went over to him, smiling when she saw Springfield, still asleep, laying on his side. She meeped when she felt Bagliora giving her a hug, and looked down at her little buddy, smiling warmly. “Is Dad still sleeping?” she asked her, and the glowbug-kitsune nodded. “Well, okay then,” she said, wondering what she should do. Deciding that going for a run would be a fun prospect, she waved goodbye to her companions and went outside, leaving her satchel of chaos emeralds by the door. She smiled as she felt the warm sun on her quills, before beginning to run down the sidewalk. Not interested in forcing herself to go at a normal pace, she sped around casually, far from her top speed, but a lot quicker than the normal person would run. She noticed the fountain in the plaza, and paused, turning to look at it. She remembered an old friend of hers, who she hadn’t seen in years. The two of them had tossed coins into the fountain and had made wishes, and although Paulina couldn’t even remember what hers had been, it didn’t change the fact that it had been a nice memory. She smiled a bit, deciding that she’d go and see that squirrel again one day. She waved to one of the random bystanders at the fountain, before running off again. Some of the people she passed she had known since her childhood, others had first gotten their taste of the hyper hedgehog when she had visited Mariano to spend time with Springfield, and still others were new to the little town hardly half an hour away from Exlin City, and were mildly surprised to see a kid with bright pink quills and super speed powers running around. She stopped back at Mariano’s house, going inside just as her adopted father was coming out of his room. The two embraced, Paulina beaming. She was going to have a great weekend.
Last edited by minergold48 (Nov. 15, 2023 23:53:31)
- xXFierroOrFalafelXx
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
daily nov 15
Okay let’s work with Lachlan. He’s pretty fun. I haven't written with him in a while. Lachlan Bennet, he/him, 16, modern day.
Shouldering my backpack, I was already out of my seat by the time the bell rang, grateful to finally be out of algebra 2. If it was bad the first year I took it, it was torture having to take it a second year. Still it was nothing compared to English class, I thought as I walked down the hall. As soon as I thought that, I groaned and reluctantly turned on my heel. Of course, today was hell day. Mr. Spencer had decided that for a large chunk of our grade we had to read creative pieces we had written.
“Not like I hear these stories enough,” I muttered to myself but apparently not quietly enough.
“Hey it could be fun,” Ignatius said, taking long strides to catch up with me. God that kid was freakishly tall. Skinny as a twig though. “And you know your writing is pretty good.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth a little, chuckling, tasting the remnants of cigarette smoke. “Yeah, I’m sure you like that stuff. It’s the stuff I write that’s shareable. The stuff I couldn’t care less about.”
“Mr. Spencer says writing is about telling the truth,” Ignatius said, a ring of goody-two shoes in his voice. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, if Ignatius weren’t so annoying he might even be cute.
“Yeah, but it still has to be truth people will be okay with hearing.” I walked past him before he could ask me what I meant.
I sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the gym, scrolling through photos I’d taken recently in the woods, listening as some girl’s voice droned on with some poem about when her house burned down. I think her name was Courtney? Honestly I don’t care. But I liked the way she described the flames eating everything. Some days I think I’d take a match to the world and burn it all down if I could. Somebody shook my shoulder, and I flinched hard. Dad was here? Why was dad here? What had I done this time? I saw him start to pull out the belt. I heard I snap as he cracked it in the air like a whip. Then his features darkened, his gray eyes turned amber and I was looking at Ignatius as he snapped his fingers in my face. “Hello, Earth to Lachlan? You’re about to go on.”
I waved him away. “This is so stupid.” I sighed and walked up to the stage, unfolding a piece of lined paper as I did.
I liked to sit at the far corner of the cafeteria. It was a good place to put my headphones on, drown out the world, and really write. I saw the words in my mind like swirls of ink, with different fonts for different emotions, some twisting, some bold, some that just wanted to disappear, even before I put them on the page. Sometimes though it was drawings. I drew my dad, I drew memories from the trip up from Texas, I drew the fists of those boys that beat me up two summers ago, and I drew his eyes. I hated myself for drawing Cade’s eyes, but I still remembered the way they had burned into me, and I had been so stupid to let him make me believe that it was love.
“I liked the way you talked about the woods,” someone said loudly over the music blasting in my ears. Ignatius.
I took my headphones out. “Yeah whatever.”
“I think you lied earlier. I think you really did write a truth in what you read today. I felt like I was there in those woods, escaping society’s expectations.”
“Please. You live for society’s expectations. Golden-boy Graythorne.”
“It’s not like I want to, I just feel like I have to.”
I shrugged. “Your problem, not mine. Maybe you should stop being a kiss-up princess if you’re so worried about it.” Almost instantly I felt like a jerk, but I’d never been good at apologizing. So I didn’t.
daily nov 20
The wind is like a vicious swarm of wasps stinging Indigo’s bare arms and although she’s holding Xanthe close to her, wrapped in a shawl, her little sister’s warmth is like a memory too far away to grasp. The wind isn’t blowing that hard but it finds its way into that hollow space within her where Azalea and Keanu were just ripped away from. It feels wrong that she should be feeling anything after losing them, but the wind whispers in her ear, taunting her and telling her she and Xanthe will soon join them. You’re quite good at digging up graves, how hard will it be to dig one for the two of you? Her hands are shaking like dead leaves that refuse to fall from a tree, no doubt tinged with the gray of frostbite like the gray of a graphite pencil. She can’t see them in the inky darkness though, and for once she doesn’t feel any power given to her by the ink. Xanthe’s shivering even with the shawl and Indigo’s arms around her, like a rabbit with nowhere to run knowing the fox is drawing near. Indigo holds Xanthe close murmuring something she thinks is comforting, but the words taste ashy as if any truth they may have once had burned away long ago. She doesn’t even close her eyes though the cold makes them water. It doesn’t matter either way. It’s too dark to see anything but the fresh memory from that morning. The sight of their bodies will never leave her brain even if by some chance they survive for many more years. They were all they’d had for so long. Taking care of each other since the jaws of death devoured their parents. Some kids licked life off a silver spoon but Indigo and her siblings had found it on knives, licked it off and learned not to slice their tongues. They’d turned those knives into spoons and learned how to get by. They’d picked up the paintbrushes their parents left them and painted the world that people wanted to see. Like a farmer can graft an apple tree to decide how the apples will taste, Indigo had felt a little like a god when she sewed a fox and a salmon together and people believed it was real. It was that curiosity, that desperation for a cure where doctors said there was none or no chance of one they could afford that had kept bread in Indigo’s belly and her sibling’s bellies. Anyone whose eyes worked knew that getting through it was little more than a heist, people trying to get something out of it even though nobody really had much of a right to anything. Where you were born or who you were born to could make it easier to claim whatever it was you thought life owed you, but for other people you had to learn how to be a crook, working against the much crueler criminal that was their life. But in a way everyone was a crook, so why had Azalea and Keanu deserved to die? Did a gardener cut down his roses in a fit of rage when he found out they had thorns? Indigo sobs, a broken sound crying out to a world that does not care. Xanthe is fast asleep and does not hear, and even if she could she is little. She does not know the pain that Indigo feels, she doesn’t feel like a plant who had its roots removed and is watching itself slowly wither away.
Daily nov 22
In a world where dreams are sometimes the most interesting part of our lives, it always seems unfair when we forget an amazing dream. Studies done on dreams have proven that they can tell people a lot about themselves. Dreaming allows the sleeper’s mind to enter a different world and until now it has been rare to bring back more than a vague memory. For years inventors, scientists, and dream experts have been working together, and now you can buy a Dreamer’s Pen. The dreamer’s pen can be used on any pad of paper and it will write anything that goes through your head at night. Now knowledge will no longer be lost when you wake up. To connect the dreamer’s pen to your mind, simply place this headband on your head an hour before bed with the pen in this little case on it here. Then set the pen on your nightstand with a pad of paper and go to sleep without a worry because whatever amazing dreams or thoughts you have tonight won’t be forgotten and in the morning expect the paper to be full of words and pictures. A local author comments that he’s now able to write books much faster by thinking of ideas in his sleep and just editing them when he’s awake; many students have reported more confidence in exams and higher scores thanks to the Dreamer’s Pen, and people now have an easier time recognizing the faces of criminals as the Dreamer’s pen digs it from their subconscious. Dreamer’s Pen is a trademarked invention and any attempts to take it apart and recreate it will result in jail time or a fine, but could have major risks to the human mind and memory. Inventors of Dreamer’s Pen are not responsible for any negative psychological effects that may be caused by remembering things you would rather forget nor are they responsible for any secrets of yours that might be spilled should someone access your dream journal. Happy dreaming.
Okay let’s work with Lachlan. He’s pretty fun. I haven't written with him in a while. Lachlan Bennet, he/him, 16, modern day.
Shouldering my backpack, I was already out of my seat by the time the bell rang, grateful to finally be out of algebra 2. If it was bad the first year I took it, it was torture having to take it a second year. Still it was nothing compared to English class, I thought as I walked down the hall. As soon as I thought that, I groaned and reluctantly turned on my heel. Of course, today was hell day. Mr. Spencer had decided that for a large chunk of our grade we had to read creative pieces we had written.
“Not like I hear these stories enough,” I muttered to myself but apparently not quietly enough.
“Hey it could be fun,” Ignatius said, taking long strides to catch up with me. God that kid was freakishly tall. Skinny as a twig though. “And you know your writing is pretty good.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth a little, chuckling, tasting the remnants of cigarette smoke. “Yeah, I’m sure you like that stuff. It’s the stuff I write that’s shareable. The stuff I couldn’t care less about.”
“Mr. Spencer says writing is about telling the truth,” Ignatius said, a ring of goody-two shoes in his voice. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, if Ignatius weren’t so annoying he might even be cute.
“Yeah, but it still has to be truth people will be okay with hearing.” I walked past him before he could ask me what I meant.
I sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the gym, scrolling through photos I’d taken recently in the woods, listening as some girl’s voice droned on with some poem about when her house burned down. I think her name was Courtney? Honestly I don’t care. But I liked the way she described the flames eating everything. Some days I think I’d take a match to the world and burn it all down if I could. Somebody shook my shoulder, and I flinched hard. Dad was here? Why was dad here? What had I done this time? I saw him start to pull out the belt. I heard I snap as he cracked it in the air like a whip. Then his features darkened, his gray eyes turned amber and I was looking at Ignatius as he snapped his fingers in my face. “Hello, Earth to Lachlan? You’re about to go on.”
I waved him away. “This is so stupid.” I sighed and walked up to the stage, unfolding a piece of lined paper as I did.
I liked to sit at the far corner of the cafeteria. It was a good place to put my headphones on, drown out the world, and really write. I saw the words in my mind like swirls of ink, with different fonts for different emotions, some twisting, some bold, some that just wanted to disappear, even before I put them on the page. Sometimes though it was drawings. I drew my dad, I drew memories from the trip up from Texas, I drew the fists of those boys that beat me up two summers ago, and I drew his eyes. I hated myself for drawing Cade’s eyes, but I still remembered the way they had burned into me, and I had been so stupid to let him make me believe that it was love.
“I liked the way you talked about the woods,” someone said loudly over the music blasting in my ears. Ignatius.
I took my headphones out. “Yeah whatever.”
“I think you lied earlier. I think you really did write a truth in what you read today. I felt like I was there in those woods, escaping society’s expectations.”
“Please. You live for society’s expectations. Golden-boy Graythorne.”
“It’s not like I want to, I just feel like I have to.”
I shrugged. “Your problem, not mine. Maybe you should stop being a kiss-up princess if you’re so worried about it.” Almost instantly I felt like a jerk, but I’d never been good at apologizing. So I didn’t.
daily nov 20
The wind is like a vicious swarm of wasps stinging Indigo’s bare arms and although she’s holding Xanthe close to her, wrapped in a shawl, her little sister’s warmth is like a memory too far away to grasp. The wind isn’t blowing that hard but it finds its way into that hollow space within her where Azalea and Keanu were just ripped away from. It feels wrong that she should be feeling anything after losing them, but the wind whispers in her ear, taunting her and telling her she and Xanthe will soon join them. You’re quite good at digging up graves, how hard will it be to dig one for the two of you? Her hands are shaking like dead leaves that refuse to fall from a tree, no doubt tinged with the gray of frostbite like the gray of a graphite pencil. She can’t see them in the inky darkness though, and for once she doesn’t feel any power given to her by the ink. Xanthe’s shivering even with the shawl and Indigo’s arms around her, like a rabbit with nowhere to run knowing the fox is drawing near. Indigo holds Xanthe close murmuring something she thinks is comforting, but the words taste ashy as if any truth they may have once had burned away long ago. She doesn’t even close her eyes though the cold makes them water. It doesn’t matter either way. It’s too dark to see anything but the fresh memory from that morning. The sight of their bodies will never leave her brain even if by some chance they survive for many more years. They were all they’d had for so long. Taking care of each other since the jaws of death devoured their parents. Some kids licked life off a silver spoon but Indigo and her siblings had found it on knives, licked it off and learned not to slice their tongues. They’d turned those knives into spoons and learned how to get by. They’d picked up the paintbrushes their parents left them and painted the world that people wanted to see. Like a farmer can graft an apple tree to decide how the apples will taste, Indigo had felt a little like a god when she sewed a fox and a salmon together and people believed it was real. It was that curiosity, that desperation for a cure where doctors said there was none or no chance of one they could afford that had kept bread in Indigo’s belly and her sibling’s bellies. Anyone whose eyes worked knew that getting through it was little more than a heist, people trying to get something out of it even though nobody really had much of a right to anything. Where you were born or who you were born to could make it easier to claim whatever it was you thought life owed you, but for other people you had to learn how to be a crook, working against the much crueler criminal that was their life. But in a way everyone was a crook, so why had Azalea and Keanu deserved to die? Did a gardener cut down his roses in a fit of rage when he found out they had thorns? Indigo sobs, a broken sound crying out to a world that does not care. Xanthe is fast asleep and does not hear, and even if she could she is little. She does not know the pain that Indigo feels, she doesn’t feel like a plant who had its roots removed and is watching itself slowly wither away.
Daily nov 22
In a world where dreams are sometimes the most interesting part of our lives, it always seems unfair when we forget an amazing dream. Studies done on dreams have proven that they can tell people a lot about themselves. Dreaming allows the sleeper’s mind to enter a different world and until now it has been rare to bring back more than a vague memory. For years inventors, scientists, and dream experts have been working together, and now you can buy a Dreamer’s Pen. The dreamer’s pen can be used on any pad of paper and it will write anything that goes through your head at night. Now knowledge will no longer be lost when you wake up. To connect the dreamer’s pen to your mind, simply place this headband on your head an hour before bed with the pen in this little case on it here. Then set the pen on your nightstand with a pad of paper and go to sleep without a worry because whatever amazing dreams or thoughts you have tonight won’t be forgotten and in the morning expect the paper to be full of words and pictures. A local author comments that he’s now able to write books much faster by thinking of ideas in his sleep and just editing them when he’s awake; many students have reported more confidence in exams and higher scores thanks to the Dreamer’s Pen, and people now have an easier time recognizing the faces of criminals as the Dreamer’s pen digs it from their subconscious. Dreamer’s Pen is a trademarked invention and any attempts to take it apart and recreate it will result in jail time or a fine, but could have major risks to the human mind and memory. Inventors of Dreamer’s Pen are not responsible for any negative psychological effects that may be caused by remembering things you would rather forget nor are they responsible for any secrets of yours that might be spilled should someone access your dream journal. Happy dreaming.
Last edited by xXFierroOrFalafelXx (Nov. 22, 2023 21:52:54)
- Froggola
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Daily for November 15 .. 419 words .. 500 points
Feeling the breeze tousle my hair was usually something that happened all the time. It felt as though something were forcing it every time something dramatic happened to me.
But today, when the calm evening breeze picked up, I held my hair still. I let no strand fly in the wind.
I always had to sigh. Whenever I was sad, tired, frustrated. I couldn't keep it in. I could never pretend I was okay. Because my emotions would betray me. But this time, when a wave of nausea rushed over me, I did not sigh. I stayed silent, clutching my stomach gently, walking with my head high as no one knew how I was feeling.
I always spoke aloud. My thoughts would break from the barrier of my mind, escaping my mouth. I could never keep my thoughts private. Yet this time, when I thought of my answer for a math test, it stayed in. I could hold the information in my mind, and no one would ever know.
I grinned, prancing around, letting the grass tickle my ankles as for the first time, Everything I did was everything I did.
I let out a laugh, the tinkling sound dancing through the air as I danced with it.
I rushed out to the coffee shop, no longer ordering the most gruesome drinks ever, with about 90 instructions on how to make it perfectly. Instead, I ordered a simple cappuccino with whipped cream and cocoa powder on top. My name was called, my drink was raised and I thanked the clerk as I skipped out of the shop, drink in hand.
I could never fall normally- it seemed my feet only ever chose to stumble when someone was around to catch me. But that would not happen this time. I gulped my drink down, throwing it into a nearby trashcan as I rushed quickly towards the park. I purposely ran blindly, tripping over a tree stump, landing awkwardly into the grass. A large smile spread across my mouth as I rubbed my elbows, easing the pain. But it felt amazing to fall.
I let out a silent breath as I strode down the paths towards the lake. Every time I went to the lake, a flock of birds would attack me, making the scene more dramatic for me to sigh. But no. This time, the birds left me alone, sitting in the original place up in the trees. I was finally normal. Everything was finally my choice. I was free.
- Froggola
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Daily for November 16 .. 173 words .. 100 points
A story I'm currently writing is about a Queendom of elves. Basically, the crown is passed on through bloodbath- which means on a solar eclipse 100 years after a princess is born, the princess must take the throne. She can do this by k1ll1ng her mother, the current queen. This is a tradition and has been done before every new queen. But one certain princess- Karina, breaks the cycle. She rebels from the tradition, not wanting to k1ll her mother. This results in her being banished from the tribe as they feel strongly of following traditions and rebels must be punished. She leaves the protection of her home forest, with nothing but her pet lion, Asha to aid her, she has to face challenges and obstacles around the unknown territories to survive. She must scavenge and hunt for her own food, build her own place to sleep- do all the things she wasn't used to doing back home. Will she survive? Or will her decision of rebelling against the tradition ruin her forever? (the story would be called the throne of bl00d!)
Last edited by Froggola (Nov. 16, 2023 01:06:19)
- Amethyst-animation
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Word war, 3 minutes, 269 words.
Dear diary, today I finally figured it out.
Those whispers and giggles behind my back, the mysteriousness that enfolds my friends, it all makes sense now.
You know how I talked about Mr Hix? The weird teacher who seems to think more than he speaks; the one who never explains anything during class? That guy was talking to my friends. Yes, actually speaking. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him talk, but I imagine it to be hoarse and very unpleasant to listen to.
I can’t believe this, but they have actually become quite close. Mr Hix talks about his days as a fisher in a small town, where the waves were towering and huge. Tehy tell me that he speaks of times where fish were plentiful, times when all he had to do was slam on a pair of goggles and he could go spear fishing. Of course there are huge and tight regulations surrounding that now.
I honestly think that he might be kidding. The quiet, never-talking teacher who sits in the back of the class and just writes the instructions on the board for kids to follow? He never even cares when the boys play games. I can hardly imagine him braving waves, casting out a small boat that leaks into an uncertain storm. It’s like the entire opposite view that everyone has on him.
It’s pretty bad, honestly. Why would he act like that? He doesn’t talk about his backstory, just about his history. Nothing about why he changed, or why he’s a teacher. Did I mention he used to fish in Iceland or somewhere?
Dear diary, today I finally figured it out.
Those whispers and giggles behind my back, the mysteriousness that enfolds my friends, it all makes sense now.
You know how I talked about Mr Hix? The weird teacher who seems to think more than he speaks; the one who never explains anything during class? That guy was talking to my friends. Yes, actually speaking. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him talk, but I imagine it to be hoarse and very unpleasant to listen to.
I can’t believe this, but they have actually become quite close. Mr Hix talks about his days as a fisher in a small town, where the waves were towering and huge. Tehy tell me that he speaks of times where fish were plentiful, times when all he had to do was slam on a pair of goggles and he could go spear fishing. Of course there are huge and tight regulations surrounding that now.
I honestly think that he might be kidding. The quiet, never-talking teacher who sits in the back of the class and just writes the instructions on the board for kids to follow? He never even cares when the boys play games. I can hardly imagine him braving waves, casting out a small boat that leaks into an uncertain storm. It’s like the entire opposite view that everyone has on him.
It’s pretty bad, honestly. Why would he act like that? He doesn’t talk about his backstory, just about his history. Nothing about why he changed, or why he’s a teacher. Did I mention he used to fish in Iceland or somewhere?
- Amethyst-animation
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Unfair DRAFT for critique!
“You don’t care?”
We’re sitting at the edge of the pool. The hot summer sun beats down on us, and the tiles are scorching, but I find no interest in jumping in. Isla twiddles her thumbs, staring at everywhere but me.
A huge splash douses us, momentarily relieving me from heat. Screams of delight ring out. They’re applauding Scarlett for her somersault entry, and as per usual, the supervisor doesn’t care. I glance back at Isla, only to notice she’s sidled closer to the pool.
“Audrey is my friend,” Isla tries to explain, waving her hands around in her trademark fashion. She doesn’t seem to be able to control it. I remember that when we were closer she was dared by one of the boys to not use hand signals for the entire period. She lost within ten minutes. I wish that we could go back to those uncomplicated, easy days.
Sighing frustratedly, I place a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going in. “I’m your friend too.”
Isla pushes my hand away and slides in. “Look, Erika- stop trying to turn me against her.” Her bob-cut billows around her, before she resurfaces. But I’m already in, treading water as well as a llama dunked in a pool can. I cling onto the lane ropes and swivel my head around to look at her. That’s not what I’m trying to do.
Something strong is influencing me. It’s fury. Isla, of all people, I would expect to stick up for me. I was her first friend at this high school, after all. I introduced her to our friend group. I’ve been supportive whenever she’s experienced a rough patch.
But the one time I want to talk to her about something, she’s chickening out?
“You’re telling me that you didn’t see what Audrey did back there?” I ask incredulously with a jerk of my head. Isla carefully averts her eyes. I wonder what would be in there if she faced me. Guilt? Shame? Fear?
I half expect her to paddle away, but instead she finally looks at me. Then her face does the infuriating thing where she’s staring at me with extreme contempt. She’s done it to me several times before, and it’s driving me insane. Then, in an almost comically-loud sigh, she starts to speak the most annoying words known to mankind - “Erika, you’re wrong.”
There it is. Isla often acts as though she knows every single fact and is the pinnacle of moral excellence. It only sometimes happens, but when it does, it’s so uncalled for and biased.
“Tell me what part of what she said is fine to you.”
Prior to the swimming period, we had arts and crafts. I made some decent origami with Chloe, and we were having a lot of relaxing fun. But then I got a little lost on one of the steps, and in enters Audrey, attracted by the prospect of a denouncing like a dog to a treat. “*,” she observed in a stage whisper. “Chloe, you’re really carrying this, aren’t you? You should probably refold everything Erika has made, she’s doing so *.”
And Chloe had laughed. I’m not sure what in the heavens had possessed her to do that, but I had noticed that a lot of the girls in my friend group were a little bit careful around Audrey. But Isla rolls her eyes. “That’s just one thing.”
“No! No, it’s not. That was just a few minutes ago. Guess what she said a few minutes before that? And a few minutes before that? Every time I open my mouth to speak, Audrey’s there to try to shut down everything I say. I don’t get why you just stand by and let it happen.”
“Well, Audrey’s never like that to me!”
My anger subsides into realisation as Isla looks on at me with blank eyes.
The next words I speak are soft, but the air is bristling. “So what you’re telling me,” I begin dangerously. “Is that you don’t care, because Audrey doesn’t do it to you. As long as she doesn’t come insulting you - as long as it stays with me - it’s fine?”
Isla starts to speak, but she stops quickly. “I… just forget it,” she tries to finish off, waving a dripping hand at me. I wince as the droplets splash over my face. “Is moving on so hard?”
Before I can respond, the supervisor blows her whistle. It’s high-pitched and harsh, but it’s effective - everyone stops messing around at once. “TEN MINUTES TO CHANGE!” she roars.
There’s a mad dash to the ladders, and I’m among those people. I’m honestly just furious that Isla’s loyalty runs so shallow. I had thought it was deep, but apparently I haven’t tested those waters enough. It was blind trust. It was a misplaced trust.
Shivering, I dawdle out of the changerooms with Layla by my side and a towel wrapped around my soaking hair. The stuffy heat that I experienced only a few minutes ago is a faraway dream. Emma joins us in a heartbeat later. I love both of them, as they’ve always been nothing but welcoming and kind. I feel my aggressive spikes surrounding my heart slinking away as they engage in cheerful chatter with me.
“Are you alright?” Layla asks, pausing suddenly. Even with my attempted smile and laughs, she knows something’s not right. Isla and Chloe haven’t noticed that before.
I try to act casual. “Hm? Oh, I’m fine.”
“No you’re not,” she insists. “What happened?”
How the heck does she know? I know it’s not really “cool” or whatever * social media has tried to call it, but I don’t care. Someone’s noticed something’s not right, and someone actually cares. I sweep her up in a big bear hug which knocks the air out of us both. She mimes flailing dramatically and the three of us break into giggles. Something long forgotten - warm and bright - sparks inside me, and that’s when I realise something that my tenuous friendship with Audrey has left deprived. The feeling that I belong.
“It’s a long story,” I eventually tell Layla. The pair look at me in interest, and that’s another thing that’s been missing - someone caring, someone paying attention. I try to recap what’s going on, and by the end of it both of them looked gobsmacked.
“What- and Chloe’s not doing anything?” whispers Emma. Although not close to her, Emma has observed Chloe from a distance and seems to admire her for her easy going personality and friendliness.
Shaking my head sadly, I expect us to drop into brooding disappointment. Bad news takes my friend group by the storm; they’ll be snappy and easily frustrated. But instead Emma aims a playful punch at my shoulder. “Hey, mate. If you want to hang out with us at lunch, you’re more than welcome.”
“Really?” I sound like an excitable puppy, but the prospect of escaping the awkward discomfort of my friend group sounds so indescribably awesome.
Layla laughs as though she’s just offered to pat me on the back, when in fact, she’s handed me a beacon of hope. “Yeah, of course! I know what you mean - there are people like that everywhere.”
Finally, someone who sympathises with me. My friends don’t understand when I try to talk to them about the way Audrey’s been acting. In fact, she acts like a completely different person when she’s talking to them.
We frolic to the lockers. The vibrant colours jump out at me, and they now look less like an eye-sore. They linger around as I grab my maths book, instead of running off.
I quietly sit on my allocated seat beside Audrey and Isla. I attempt to be slightly friendly. “Hey, guys.”
“You know,” Audrey barks suddenly, turning in her seat to look pointedly at Isla. “I absolutely hate it when people say ‘guys’. The whole world isn’t made up of guys, hellooo?”
“It’s just a friendly way to say friends,” I mumble under my breath, trying to keep my mood up. Just ignore…
I swear Audrey has super-hearing or something, but she’s glaring daggers at me. “You good?”
“No, I’m not good,” she spits. I flinch as her saliva flies onto my face. “We’re not in the eighteenth century, are we? God, get woke.” I casually glance at Isla, and she’s very absorbed in a sum she did two weeks ago. I notice her eyes aren’t moving on.
I attempt to ignore her scoffs and jabs at basically everything I’m doing, but eventually I slam my headphones onto my ears. The entrancing voice of Aurora quickly calms me down. You have a home in my queendom, you have a place in my queendom. You have a home… ‘til queendom come.
Oh my goodness, the upbeat, cheerful vibe of the instruments and her heartfelt singing chases away the frustration and anger from my heart. I hunt the grounds for empathy, and hate the way it hides from me.
How is it that music seems to be able to sense your mood? I feel Aurora reaching out her hand, as though she understands me.
You have a home… you have a place…
“Again?” asks Emma sympathetically.
Layla fiddles with her books, thinking hard. “You should talk to her.”
“What? Heck, no! She’ll eat me alive.”
“Relax,” Emma laughs. “She might seem scary, but she really isn’t.”
I look at her with an arched eyebrow. “That monster? Nooo, thank you.”
They laugh at my random joke. I wonder when’s the last time I got a chuckle instead of a scathing insult?
We briefly stop by our lockers to grab lunch. “Just ask her to talk with you and say what you’re thinking,” suggests Layla.
“I’ll see you next year then,” I mimic waving her off and they giggle again.
“Makes sense. Why don’t you cut it down to the main points?”
“Dearest Audrey, you’ve been a pretty annoying jerk lately. Yours sincerely.”
“Maybe a little more… neutral.”
“Don’t yell,” warns Emma. “Although you probably want to and deserve it. Be the bigger person, Erika. Be calm and friendly.” She clears her throat and looks very regal, sweeping her hands up in a grand gesture. “Hate is a disease - it may destroy your enemy, but it will also destroy you in the process.”
“Shakespeare?”
“Eddi Jaku.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to,” Layla quickly interjects. “We’re not trying to pressure you. I think it’s the best thing to do, but it’s fine if you think about something else. She doesn’t sound worth your time.”
I haven’t heard that in a while.
“Thanks, you two,” I say. Trying to not sound sappy is a little hard, and my voice is getting a little bit thick with emotion. Quickly clearing it, I turn to Audrey. She’s flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder. “Uh, Audrey, can I talk to you?”
She turns around with a groan. “Fine. Make it quick.”
I have enough righteousness to drag her away from our friend group to try to spare her dignity. Don’t yell. I take a deep breath and gesture for her to sit down on a bench.
“I’ve just… noticed you’ve been increasingly rude recently.”
“What?!” She looks a little too innocent. “When?”
Keep calm. “Just at Maths. Then when we were walking to Swimming. And during Arts and Craft. Want me to keep going?”
She bites her lip, but doesn’t say anything.
I decide to offer her the easy way out. “Are you stressed or something? I know there are a lot of exams.”
Remarkably, Audrey doesn’t take it. “Some personalities just don’t click.”
“Is that an excuse for the way you’ve been acting?”
“I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Listen, you like Chloe and Isla. I get that. You probably don’t want to jeopardise your relationship with them, so you take it all out on me.” She looks startled - did I strike gold? “It’s just… unfair.”
I wait a few seconds. Eventually… “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Wow, classic. Getting out of an apology with some slimy words. She’s not worth your time. Layla’s words echo in my head, and I seize control of my breathing.
“Well…” I hesitate, trying to work out what to say. I figure saying nothing is best. Scanning the courtyard, I spot Layla and Emma watching me anxiously in the shade. I stride over them, and the feeling of something heavy being lifted over my chest is relieving.
“Did it go well?” asks Layla, her voice a little more high-pitched than usual.
I move my head in a so-so fashion and Emma offers me a fistbump. I take it and she mimes an explosion. “Good job. I bet you feel a lot better now.”
I glance back at my sour-looking, silent friend group. Then I turn my head back to Emma and Layla. Their friendly faces and genuine compassion spills a smile over my face. The breeze wafts over us, gently waving our sun-kissed hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Everything feels fair.
2187 words - way over!
This is based off of my actual situation with friends right now. Yep, Audrey acts like that and that's right, Isla's not being very uh, supportive. However I have changed the name of the people (except for me) for the sake of their privacy. No names in here match the actual names that belong to the people who actually did these events. It was really hard for me to write, as it was difficult retelling hard stories that actually happened.Thank you for reading <3
I think I'm going to make this my competition entry, but it needs a lot of editing, feedback and shortening first xD
Last edited by Amethyst-animation (Nov. 17, 2023 01:49:19)
- icebunny11
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ☾ november 2023
Nickname - Ava
Content - Weekly 1 (November 2nd - November 9th)
Cabin - Mystery
Wordcount- 355/350
Maya: -sitting on the grass-
Maya: -enjoying the fresh air-
Maya: -she hears the familiar sounds of a shovel-
Maya: -groans, and sits up, debating whether or not to look over her fence-
Maya: -has had enough of the stupid shovel and gets up-
Maya: -looking over her fence- NABI, THAT'S LIKE THE THIRD MANGO TREE YOU'VE PLANTED THIS WEEK.
Nabi: -pays no attention-
Maya: -grits her teeth- Nabi I'll take away your mango box if you don't answer me right no-
Nabi: -looks up-
Nabi: -long red hair gets in her eyes as she squints-
Nabi: What do you want Maya?
Maya: -shrugs sarcastically- I don't know, perhaps PEACE AND QUIET?
Nabi: -rolling her eyes- What does it affect you?! I'm digging in my own garden anyway.
Maya: You're digging is so loud I can practically hear it from inside my house with all the windows closed.
Nabi: -scowling- It's not my fault your window's soundproofing isn't as well done as mine.
Maya: -slightly shouting- YOU DONT EVEN NEED SOUND PROOFING, I BARELY MAKE NOISE IN MY SIDE OF THE GARDEN
Nabi: -standing up, her hands full of mud- WELL LET ME TELL YOU THAT WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP IN YOUR GARDEN YOUR SNORES SCARE THE BIRDS AWAY FROM MY TREES
Maya: -now fully shouting- YOU DON'T HAVE TREES IN YOUR GARDEN BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS PLANT SEEDS
Nabi: -wiping her muddy hands on her dark blue pants, creating brown stains- WELL-
Maya: WELL WHAT?
Nabi: …
Maya: …
Nabi: WELL- WELL- WELL I PLANT SEEDS SO THAT THEY CAN TURN INTO TREES
Maya: -banging her head on the fence in frustration- I totally didn't know that Nabi. Thank you for enlightening me and making me a better human being, you know?
Nabi: Sarcasm does not suit you, you just look like a baby trying to take its first steps. It's pretty stupid.
Maya: At least my sarcasm makes sense, all your jokes include something about mangos.
Nabi:: I mean, I kind of get why you're jealous over something way better than you.
Maya: …
Nabi: …
Maya: …
Nabi: Want to help me plant this?
Maya: sure.
Wordcount- 277/250
(Maya) You are definitely high
Like you were the first time you moved in
Went home and tried to block out all the digging sound
Couldn't sleep couldn't even sit in bed
(Nabi) You act so cold
Even though everyone knows you're a crackhead
So what if I'm planting mangos it's not your business
They'll grow tall when I have my grandchildren
(Maya) Asking once
please move from next door
Asking twice
I'm sobbing on the floor
Three times
I can't take this anymore
(Man-gos! Man-Go! Man-GO!)
(Nabi) I like fruits and all
but mangos are just special
uhuh
that's right
those are
the fruits I want
(Maya) And I like peace and quiet
but you're ruining it with your stupid shovel
uhuh
that's right
I don't care
about the fruits you want
(Nabi) Mangos are much better than you that's for sure
uhuh
the fruits I want
(Maya) In the winter even when it's icy cold
You're still planting those trees give me a break
I'm ready to kick you in the pool
(Nabi) As if you could
you're not strong enough to pick up a guitar
your foot would break leaving me unscarred
I have to plant, so go back to your house
(Maya) Telling you once
be quieter outside
Telling you twice
There's never a bright side
Three times
THREE MANGO SEEDS IN ONE DAY?
(Man-Gos! Man-Go Man-GO!)
(Nabi) I like fruits and all
but mangos are just special
uhuh
that's right
those are
the fruits I want
(Maya) And I like peace and quiet
but you're ruining it with your stupid shovel
uhuh
that's right
I don't care
about the fruits you want
Wordcount-
(I wrote the words in my notebook while my brother was having a birthday party and it was rude for me to sit on my laptop. I am so- so- tired and I refuse to add the words currently. If that is not acceptable, I'm sorry mystery, but I'll try to copy them down tomorrow. However, I am most definitely not doing it right now, this late TT)
Content - Weekly 1 (November 2nd - November 9th)
Cabin - Mystery
Part 1
Wordcount- 355/350
- …Welcome to the first part of this weekly!…
- …To begin, you will be writing a short skit using humor…
- …Follow along with either of these workshops for a brief overview of how to write humor: Starr’s Workshop or September's Workshop...
- …write a skit involving humor of at least 350 words…
Maya: -sitting on the grass-
Maya: -enjoying the fresh air-
Maya: -she hears the familiar sounds of a shovel-
Maya: -groans, and sits up, debating whether or not to look over her fence-
Maya: -has had enough of the stupid shovel and gets up-
Maya: -looking over her fence- NABI, THAT'S LIKE THE THIRD MANGO TREE YOU'VE PLANTED THIS WEEK.
Nabi: -pays no attention-
Maya: -grits her teeth- Nabi I'll take away your mango box if you don't answer me right no-
Nabi: -looks up-
Nabi: -long red hair gets in her eyes as she squints-
Nabi: What do you want Maya?
Maya: -shrugs sarcastically- I don't know, perhaps PEACE AND QUIET?
Nabi: -rolling her eyes- What does it affect you?! I'm digging in my own garden anyway.
Maya: You're digging is so loud I can practically hear it from inside my house with all the windows closed.
Nabi: -scowling- It's not my fault your window's soundproofing isn't as well done as mine.
Maya: -slightly shouting- YOU DONT EVEN NEED SOUND PROOFING, I BARELY MAKE NOISE IN MY SIDE OF THE GARDEN
Nabi: -standing up, her hands full of mud- WELL LET ME TELL YOU THAT WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP IN YOUR GARDEN YOUR SNORES SCARE THE BIRDS AWAY FROM MY TREES
Maya: -now fully shouting- YOU DON'T HAVE TREES IN YOUR GARDEN BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS PLANT SEEDS
Nabi: -wiping her muddy hands on her dark blue pants, creating brown stains- WELL-
Maya: WELL WHAT?
Nabi: …
Maya: …
Nabi: WELL- WELL- WELL I PLANT SEEDS SO THAT THEY CAN TURN INTO TREES
Maya: -banging her head on the fence in frustration- I totally didn't know that Nabi. Thank you for enlightening me and making me a better human being, you know?
Nabi: Sarcasm does not suit you, you just look like a baby trying to take its first steps. It's pretty stupid.
Maya: At least my sarcasm makes sense, all your jokes include something about mangos.
Nabi:: I mean, I kind of get why you're jealous over something way better than you.
Maya: …
Nabi: …
Maya: …
Nabi: Want to help me plant this?
Maya: sure.
Part 2
Wordcount- 277/250
- …Welcome to the second part of this weekly, where we’re going to be adapting a classic SWC daily - song parodies!…
- …For this activity, look back at your skit. Did you write a particularly ridiculous line about dancing jellyfish? Or a cackle-worthy scene about runaway homework?…
- …write a song parody using a song of at least 250 words, using a humorous element from your skit…
Song-Paper Rings (Taylor Swift)
(Maya) You are definitely high
Like you were the first time you moved in
Went home and tried to block out all the digging sound
Couldn't sleep couldn't even sit in bed
(Nabi) You act so cold
Even though everyone knows you're a crackhead
So what if I'm planting mangos it's not your business
They'll grow tall when I have my grandchildren
(Maya) Asking once
please move from next door
Asking twice
I'm sobbing on the floor
Three times
I can't take this anymore
(Man-gos! Man-Go! Man-GO!)
(Nabi) I like fruits and all
but mangos are just special
uhuh
that's right
those are
the fruits I want
(Maya) And I like peace and quiet
but you're ruining it with your stupid shovel
uhuh
that's right
I don't care
about the fruits you want
(Nabi) Mangos are much better than you that's for sure
uhuh
the fruits I want
(Maya) In the winter even when it's icy cold
You're still planting those trees give me a break
I'm ready to kick you in the pool
(Nabi) As if you could
you're not strong enough to pick up a guitar
your foot would break leaving me unscarred
I have to plant, so go back to your house
(Maya) Telling you once
be quieter outside
Telling you twice
There's never a bright side
Three times
THREE MANGO SEEDS IN ONE DAY?
(Man-Gos! Man-Go Man-GO!)
(Nabi) I like fruits and all
but mangos are just special
uhuh
that's right
those are
the fruits I want
(Maya) And I like peace and quiet
but you're ruining it with your stupid shovel
uhuh
that's right
I don't care
about the fruits you want
Part 3
Wordcount-
- …Welcome to the third and final part of the Silly Community Weekly!…
- …Using your parody as inspiration, your final task will be to write a piece of SWC fanfiction of at least 700 words…
(I wrote the words in my notebook while my brother was having a birthday party and it was rude for me to sit on my laptop. I am so- so- tired and I refuse to add the words currently. If that is not acceptable, I'm sorry mystery, but I'll try to copy them down tomorrow. However, I am most definitely not doing it right now, this late TT)
Go Back Home Here
Last edited by icebunny11 (Nov. 16, 2023 18:57:58)