The Whisperers


The Whisperers

Massive credit for Steampunk (my cabin!) as they let me use inspiration from their storyline. This is sort of my take on it, with quite a few different aspects, but a few the same! Also, thanks to xXFierroOrFalafelXx for doing an incredible critique on it!!!



Sophie crept along the darkening street, hidden under a blanket of stars. She could see the famous shadowy figure of the shard towering over the rest of London, stark against the dark night sky. There was a thrum beneath her feet. It was strange and lively, like the beat of a drum. Electricity crackled in the air. Hum. Hum. Again and again. A sound that made her shudder. A sound that made her tremble. She looked around her street. Everything was silent, all the people in bed. Sophie didn’t know what was going on. But she knew that it was something important. Her family had always called her different; she was always lost in thoughts, always doing reckless things and always asking questions. Perhaps this was her answer.

Then lightning struck. A great blinding flash forked from the sky, lighting up the world in terrifying glory. A whisper formed in the air, quiet and unearthly. Then louder. And louder. An eerie chorus of voices.
“Destroy. Destroy. Destroy,” the voice echoed menacingly.
A shiver raced down her spine, and she felt a strong wind practically pulling her off her feet. The moon shone dimly from above and the stars seemed to fade.
“Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.” Yet again it was louder. A crescendo of evil darkness. As it grew in volume, an image formed in her head. It was a picture of a dark shadowy figure in some sort of factory. Sophie felt her feet pulling her somewhere. Something whirred. Something hummed. A click in the air brought her to a standstill. It was a mechanical noise, like part of a clock or a cog fitting into place. Sophie opened her mouth in terror to scream, her eyes swirling in a mixture of anxiety, terror and curiosity. But not a sound came out. She seemed to be frozen in time. The world passed by and the storm raged above her. However, no one seemed to notice her. Sophie’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. They were leaking out like water from the ocean.

Then she blinked. Suddenly, everything was just a blur. People whizzed past her until her eyes ached and Sophie felt that same tug again. It was an invisible rope, and she felt its rough cord, fastening itself around her waist. She struggled furiously and itched to know what was going on. Time was speeding up and she could barely see anything, just a flash of light, then darkness. She waited for what could have been hours, minutes, seconds, until finally, everything stopped. She realised that she was underground. She was standing on a smooth blanket of soil, carefully flattened to make a sturdy platform. The voices were so much stronger. Everything down here was boiling. She noticed. The terror had faded from her eyes, leaving a deep wonder. Steam rose from a ladder beneath her and she wondered where she was.

A girl with dark, straggly hair and oily skin stumbled past her.
“Hello!” Sophie shouted.
“Hello!” her voice echoed back. The girl seemed far too preoccupied to even dare steal a glance at her. Sophie decided that she had to go down there. She had to find out what was going on. She took the bravest step that she had ever taken and stared down the hole. She could see metal and light, but nothing else. Sophie, without even thinking, gripped the ladder with her sweaty palms and swung herself into mid-air. For one moment, she thought that she would fall. Her hands were slipping and her feet scrambled to get a hold on one of the rungs. Then, she somehow managed to haul herself back on, and started climbing down. Every single fraction she moved downwards, a blast of hot air would breeze around her.

She had reached the bottom. And she was surrounded by the most extraordinary sight. Cogs were scattered everywhere, slicked with grimy oil, and machinery was steaming all around her. The walls were made of sliding panels in brass and gold and silver, some rusted with age, but some gleaming and bright. But the most incredible sight was the clock in the middle. It was a quarter complete, with ladders all around it. Boys and girls were clambering up and down, wiping their brows with exhaustion. As Sophie took in all of this, she realised that the whispering was coming from the clock.

“Excuse me?” she asked feebly. Every single head turned to look at her. An awkward silence filled the room and the children glanced anxiously at each other until a girl stepped forwards. She had friendly green eyes and light hair.
“Were you sent here by the Whisperers?” The girl’s voice was sympathetic and warm. Sophie nodded silently and wondered who all of these children were. Their stares burned into her and she shrank back. The girl took her elbow and led her to the massive frozen clock. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt something inside her. The whispering penetrated fear into her bones and Sophie gripped the girl’s arm tighter.
“What is this place?” Sophie breathed.
“This is Clockwork Abbey,” answered the girl, her voice betraying her terror. She guided her a step closer to the clock.
“And this is the Clock.”

2nd weekly too tired to make it aesthetic
1403 words total
skit: 356
parody (let it go): 294
fanfiction thingy: 753

LILLY (enthusiastically): Hi, Milly!
MILLY (waving): Hey, Lilly! How are you?
LILLY (nodding): Fine, how are you?
MILLY (shrugs while pointing to her backpack): I mean…homework, but other than that I’m fine. Oh, by the way, happy birthday! It was over the weekend, right?
LILLY (smiling): Thanks! Happy birthday to you too–yours is only a day after mine, I think?
MILLY (bouncing a little, happy because her friend remembered): Yeah! Thanks. What was your favorite gift?
LILLY: Oh, that’s easy! My mom got me a fourteen-carat gold necklace; it’s really pretty. I almost wore it today, but I didn’t want to wear it to school and lose it.
MILLY (Clapping her hands together and leaning forward): Wow, what a coincidence! I got a fourteen-carrot necklace too! It’s gorgeous, but I didn’t wear it today either. Maybe we can both wear them tomorrow and match?
LILLY (nodding and smiling): Sounds like a deal! I’ll be extra careful not to lose mine. Oh, is that the bell? Guess we better get to class. See you later!
MILLY (waving goodbye): Bye, see you after class!
–The next day–
LILLY (stretching up on her tiptoes, looking around the crowd of students): Where’s Milly? I don’t see her. (Fingering her gold necklace) I hope she’s not sick today!
MILLY (coming up behind her): Hi, Lilly! Sorry I’m late, I slept in!
LILLY (turning to her friend): There you are! I brought my…Milly, what’s that around your neck?
MILLY (holding up the string of carrots she draped around her neck): My fourteen-carrot necklace! What’s around YOUR neck?
LILLY (sighing): My fourteen-carat necklace. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.
MILLY (nodding): Yeah, your mom must have accidentally gotten you a gold necklace instead of a carrot one. Too bad–carrots are really great. Instant, wearable snack! (She bites into one of her carrots.)
LILLY (laughing a little): Maybe so. Next time, I’ll be sure to ask you how you spell it. Oh, there’s the bell again! Better get to class. (Waves goodbye and leaves.)
MILLY (waving): Bye! See you later!
MILLY (to herself): Wait, they’re spelled differently? No wonder I flunked my English test!


The words glow bright on the document white,
Not a comma to be seen.
The punctuation is all over the place,
And of misspelling, I’m the queen.
The word count’s screaming like the motivation inside,
Couldn’t write another word, my cabin knows I tried.
Don’t let them in, don’t let them see,
Be the good camper you always have to be.
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know,
Well, now they know–
I can’t type, I can’t type,
Can’t hit the word count on this daily anymore,
I can’t type, I can’t type,
Throw my computer on the floor.
I don’t care what they’re going to say,
Let the Cabin Wars rage on,
The mangoes never bothered me anyway.
It’s funny how some motivation
Makes every word count seem small,
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t stop me from writing at all!
It’s time to see what I can do,
To test the WPM and break through,
No daily, no weekly’s, too much for me,
I’m freeee
I can’t type, I can’t type,
I am one with the points of Non-fi,
I can’t type, I can’t type,
But SWC will never see me cry,
Here I stand, and here I stay,
Let the Cabin Wars rage on.
My keyboard rises through the air onto the ground,
My word count’s rising up, my head is spinning round and round,
And one thought becomes mushy like mangoes from the past,
I’m never giving up, this daily is a blast,
I can’t type, I can’t type,
But my cabin will rise like the break of dawn,
I can’t type, I can’t type,
That perfect streak is gone,
Here I stand at midnight UTC,
Let the Cabin Wars rage onnnn
The mangoes never bother me anyway.


It was a perfectly normal day for SWC. That is, everything was on fire.
“DON’T FREAK OUT GUYS,” Chuey tried to explain. “This is totally normal! I’m out of motivation, so I had to resort to more desperate measures. I repeat, do not worry! All I’m doing is burning down your cabin and stealing all your points so that Real-Fi can win. I’m sure none of you mind–you can always get more later. And I didn’t take your mangoes! So that’s a bonus.”
Vi pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Chuey, there wasn’t possibly a way you could have done this without setting something on fire?”
Chuey gave her a cheeky grin. “Yeah…but where’s the fun in that? Plus, I left Dystopian a few points, so it’s not like you’re totally ruined. See? I’m nice.”
Veni pointed to herself. “Hey, what about Illu-Fi? We’re your siblings! You didn’t take our points, did you?”
Chuey waved her hand in the air. “Pfft, don’t worry. I left your points–well, most of them. Half. Maybe 25 percent. You’ll be fine.”
Veni looked deeply offended, but Chuey’s attention had already flitted away. “Guys, maybe help me put out the fires now? I think they’ve burned for long enough.”
“Why did you start the fires anyway?” Lio asked. Chuey brightened and raised a finger in the air. “Ah! That was to insure that nobody would notice their points being stolen and added to Real-Fi! All part of my diabolical plan, you see. But, um, I guess I didn’t expect how…burny they’d be. Does this place have insurance?”
“More importantly, does it have fire trucks?” Bookie grumbled, gesturing at the flames, which were increasing noticeably.
Chuey winced. “Okay…so maybe I didn’t really think this through all the way. I’m sure we can fix it, though! Just needs a little…water…”
Part of the main cabin began to crumble, and the fire flared higher.
“…Okay, maybe a lot,” Chuey admitted. “But, uh, nothing to fear! The mighty Chuey is here, to save everyone from their certain demise.”
“Aren’t you the one who started the fires in the first place?” Pearl pointed out.
“Hey, I never said ‘certain demise that I totally wasn’t the cause of,’ right?” Chuey countered. “Besides, it’s really not that bad! At least it’s not an elephant on fire!” Her eyes lit up, and Vi held up a hand. “Chuey. No,” she told her. “Let’s just focus on putting these fires out.”
Chuey sighed dramatically, but nodded. “Okay. I suppose you’re right.” She clapped her hands together. “Anyone have any suggestions?”
Poppy raised her hand, and Chuey pointed to her. “Yes! What’s your suggestion?”
“Don’t start the fires in the first place?” Poppy said. Chuey nodded enthusiastically. “Awesome! Now we just have to–oh, wait, never mind, uh, does anyone have any actual solutions?”
Wynter raised her hand. “Stop building the cabins out of flammable materials? I dunno–but this can’t be the first time this has happened, right? Surely there’s got to be some kind of safety protocol for this. Maybe ask the leaders?”
Chuey shook her head so fast her hair went flying. “No! No, we can’t do that, what if I’m kicked out? Or worse, they take all of Real-Fi’s points away?”
Lark shrugged. “I mean, technically not all of them are Real-Fi’s points. Wasn’t the whole fire thing started because you were stealing points?”
Chuey held up a hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not forget that I had no choice! My motivation abandoned me!”
Violet placed her hands on her hips. “That doesn’t mean you can go around stealing points from other cabins, though,” she pointed out.
Chuey tugged on a strand of hair. “Yeah, okay, I get it. But we’re milling around talking to each other about points when there’s a literal fire behind us! What do we do?”
Nova raised her hand. “Ooh! Ooh! This is SWC, right? What if we write about the fire being extinguished?”
Chuey opened her mouth to object, but stopped. “Actually…that’s not a half bad idea.”
All the other campers murmured agreement, looking at each other in excitement.
Chuey held up a pencil. “All right, campers…get writing!”
For once, the campers worked together, and soon the flames were flickering out.
Vi slapped Nove a high-five and then turned to Chuey…but she wasn’t there. Uh-oh.
A disembodied voice floated around the recently united campers.
“Then again…I never did say I would give back the points!”
Laughter floated back to the shocked group as Chuey made a run for it.

first thing i noticed, you indented the last two paragraph but not the first. possibly indent the first paragraph to maintain consistency.

also, the paragraphs are big and chunky, which makes it somewhat difficult to read.

You stop to take a breath, only to continue running when you hear faint footsteps getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

i feel that the “louder and louder, closer and closer” is repetitive and unnecessary. just “louder and closer” should be fine. also, why would the footsteps be faint? kinda contradicting

A spider drops down next to you and you try to quickly move your face away, but narrowly miss it.

“narrowly miss it” sounds like the spider didn't fall onto you. perhaps change the phrasing to make it sound right. also, the character's running, right? so how would the spider hit them lol

One or two or three of its slimy legs brush against your face, but you barely notice even though you have horrible arachnophobia.

that's kinda unrealistic. maybe make it that the fear of the thing overshadows the fear of spiders.

Suddenly, you bump into a hard, brick wall.

forgive me if i'm wrong but the comma after hard is not needed

Before you just stop trying and let the bugs get to you?

idk this line just sounds kinda mid, also isn't the narrator only afraid of spiders or smth

You have to make it out, have to get back to your old life- if it even still exists.

you've never mentioned an alternate life thingy in your story

But you can’t, until- oh, wait. You figured 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.

idk i feel like this is a bit sudden and random

You try to open your eyes only to see darkness, real darkness.

i don't think you've ever mentioned them closing their eyes.



this was a pretty cool story and i hope you get a good grade on it

Churro's Weeklies #2

Part 1
SHELLEY: (staring at the pizza) I… wow. Im so hungry.*laugh*
ANNA: *puts on your stereotypical dad voice* Hello So Hungry. I'm Anna.
SHELLEY: Oh, stop it. Stop with the dad jokes! *she giggles*
ANNA: *starts cutting the pizza* Don't worry. I'm going to have a therapist on my phone, ready to call whenever you need it. You are going to die from my dad-joke-ness.
SHELLEY: I- wait, how do you have a therapist in your contacts?
ANNA: When did I say I have a therapist in my contacts?
SHELLEY: Come on, Anna. Do you have a goldfish brain? Something's a bit… fishy here.
ANNA: Ha-ha, I'm starting to rub off on you, So Hungry.
SHELLEY: sTahHP iTT! *looks around* are you serious right now? We're in public, about to eat a pizza!
ANNA: No, I am totally not serious right now, as you can see!
SHELLEY: Oh. My. Goldfish. What the heck.
ANNA: What do you mean by what the heck?
SHELLEY: I don't remember, what do I mean by what the heck?
ANNA: Who's the goldfish brain now? *smirk*

Part 2

The Whisperers

Massive credit for Steampunk (my cabin!) as they let me use inspiration from their storyline. This is sort of my take on it, with quite a few different aspects, but a few the same! Also, thanks to xXFierroOrFalafelXx for doing an incredible critique on it!!! 921 words.



Sophie crept along the darkening street, hidden under a blanket of stars. She could see the famous shadowy figure of the shard towering over the rest of London, stark against the dark night sky. There was a thrum beneath her feet. It was strange and lively, like the beat of a drum. Electricity crackled in the air. Hum. Hum. Again and again. A sound that made her shudder. A sound that made her tremble. She looked around her street. Everything was silent, all the people in bed. Sophie didn’t know what was going on. But she knew that it was something important. Her family had always called her different; she was always lost in thoughts, always doing reckless things and always asking questions. Perhaps this was her answer.

Then lightning struck. A great blinding flash forked from the sky, lighting up the world in terrifying glory. A whisper formed in the air, quiet and unearthly. Then louder. And louder. An eerie chorus of voices.
“Destroy. Destroy. Destroy,” the voice echoed menacingly.
A shiver raced down her spine, and she felt a strong wind practically pulling her off her feet. The moon shone dimly from above and the stars seemed to fade.
“Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.” Yet again it was louder. A crescendo of evil darkness. As it grew in volume, an image formed in her head. It was a picture of a dark shadowy figure in some sort of factory. Sophie felt her feet pulling her somewhere. Something whirred. Something hummed. A click in the air brought her to a standstill. It was a mechanical noise, like part of a clock or a cog fitting into place. Sophie opened her mouth in terror to scream, her eyes swirling in a mixture of anxiety, terror and curiosity. But not a sound came out. She seemed to be frozen in time. The world passed by and the storm raged above her. However, no one seemed to notice her. Sophie’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. They were leaking out like water from the ocean.

Then she blinked. Suddenly, everything was just a blur. People whizzed past her until her eyes ached and Sophie felt that same tug again. It was an invisible rope, and she felt its rough cord, fastening itself around her waist. She struggled furiously and itched to know what was going on. Time was speeding up and she could barely see anything, just a flash of light, then darkness. She waited for what could have been hours, minutes, seconds, until finally, everything stopped. She realised that she was underground. She was standing on a smooth blanket of soil, carefully flattened to make a sturdy platform. The voices were so much stronger. Everything down here was boiling. She noticed. The terror had faded from her eyes, leaving a deep wonder. Steam rose from a ladder beneath her and she wondered where she was.

A girl with dark, straggly hair and oily skin stumbled past her.
“Hello!” Sophie shouted.
“Hello!” her voice echoed back. The girl seemed far too preoccupied to even dare steal a glance at her. Sophie decided that she had to go down there. She had to find out what was going on. She took the bravest step that she had ever taken and stared down the hole. She could see metal and light, but nothing else. Sophie, without even thinking, gripped the ladder with her sweaty palms and swung herself into mid-air. For one moment, she thought that she would fall. Her hands were slipping and her feet scrambled to get a hold on one of the rungs. Then, she somehow managed to haul herself back on, and started climbing down. Every single fraction she moved downwards, a blast of hot air would breeze around her.

She had reached the bottom. And she was surrounded by the most extraordinary sight. Cogs were scattered everywhere, slicked with grimy oil, and machinery was steaming all around her. The walls were made of sliding panels in brass and gold and silver, some rusted with age, but some gleaming and bright. But the most incredible sight was the clock in the middle. It was a quarter complete, with ladders all around it. Boys and girls were clambering up and down, wiping their brows with exhaustion. As Sophie took in all of this, she realised that the whispering was coming from the clock.

“Excuse me?” she asked feebly. Every single head turned to look at her. An awkward silence filled the room and the children glanced anxiously at each other until a girl stepped forwards. She had friendly green eyes and light hair.
“Were you sent here by the Whisperers?” The girl’s voice was sympathetic and warm. Sophie nodded silently and wondered who all of these children were. Their stares burned into her and she shrank back. The girl took her elbow and led her to the massive frozen clock. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt something inside her. The whispering penetrated fear into her bones and Sophie gripped the girl’s arm tighter.
“What is this place?” Sophie breathed.
“This is Clockwork Abbey,” answered the girl, her voice betraying her terror. She guided her a step closer to the clock.
“And this is the Clock.”

—— ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】Weekly 3 - Conlang【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━——

Conlang! super excited for this. before you continue, you might want to read this introduction. GAGES is a project I've been working on, which features several factions and species.
the Avians: a creature resembling a cat/bird hybrid. language: AvonScript.
the Elgardians: a cat on the Elgard side. language: BasicScript.
the Giants: a raptor-like creature with short, 2 fingered arms and long legs. Language(s): GiantScript and GodScript
the Ishnarrians: a cat on the ishnarr side. language: BasicScript.

PART 1: to be continued

critique for vi (@violent-measures)

One, two, three.
Three stops stood between J and freedom.

the counting as the first line does a good job of setting the theme, and these are good opening sentences to hook the reader in - specifically the ambiguity in ‘freedom’ works well.

Ignore them. It doesn’t matter…. The numbers begged to be counted, though. How else to keep track of the world and everything in it?

this also nicely shows the theme, and provides a nice little bit of context.

His watch read five thirty. J left the shop.

instead of just stating that he left, you could say it in a less direct or more descriptive way. say why he left rather than explicitly stating it.

Bed. Chair. Television, if you counted that. Cat tree.

i’d put the ‘television, if you counted that’ at the end of the list, as the ‘if you counted that’ makes the list feel a bit clunky

Dusk crept upon the land outside. J slid the blinds closed, letting them paint the room in stripes. His watch reflected the reddish light in a focused beam.

this is a really nice description, but it feels too descriptive compared to the rest of the piece - i’d say make this bit less descriptive because i don’t really see why this part specifically should be emphasised, and being this descriptive in the rest of the piece would be too much.

J showered, finished the leftover ramen from the fridge.

it feels a bit irrelevant to say that he showered here.

J awoke feeling tired. Bright light streamed through the cracks in the blinds. The TV still droned on, coloring the room blue. B had migrated to a spot on the floor patched with sunlight.
J filled B’s water and food bowls and left.
Five blocks to the station. Six stops.

J leaving the house seems very abrupt here, and a bit confusing, as he’s only just woken up. you could add something about him feeding B, or him having breakfast or something.

J started when someone sat down next to him.

you probably made a typo and mean ‘stared’ here.

trying to ignore the iching

typo: it should be ‘itching’

The sky darkened, though the clock on the wall proclaimed the time was only five fifteen.
it’s a bit confusing here, i was under the impression he got on and off the train in the morning and it’s now the evening? i might be being stupid here but maybe add a bit of an indication of time passing, or describe what he did when he got off the train - did he go to work? did he meet someone?

Droplets hit the window.
i would clarify that it was a coffee shop window here, as the reader is left wondering where he is until it is clarified later in the paragraph - i feel like this interrupts the flow of it.

The sky still rained its sorrow upon the land. People tucked themselves away in three-bedroom houses with warmth radiating from the floors and mugs of coffee.
J stood alone on this road of fifty doors. And, at last, he was free.
J ran the rest of the way home, grinning inside the downpour. No one shared the smile with him, but that was all right. In his mind, he shared it with the stranger on the train. She had a pretty smile, he decided, for no reason at all.
No umbrella remained in sight, just numbers of houses, already counted.
He laughed as the sky wept.

i like the contrast used throughout the paragraph, it makes it clear that J is different from everyone else around him.

overall, i like how you have gotten a lot of information about J across, but you have incorporated it into the story so it feels more natural. the pacing seems a bit confused sometimes, and it’s not always clear what is going on. it feels a bit like the curious incident of the dog in the night time and i really liked that book! it’s quite well-written, i really like the concept and i enjoyed reading it!

PART 1: Skit

(Author’s note: This is not a fully accurate representation of wolf society in my universe. I added human-like costumes, behaviors, and props for the sake of the scene.)

There is a clearing in the forest where a pack of wolves is gathering. SUMMIT and HURRICANE enter together, making their way through the crowd to the middle, where the highest-status wolves are clustering. SUMMIT is dressed in his full royal costume, while HURRICANE carries his instruments on his back.

SUMMIT (confidently, to HURRICANE): Time to get this show started!
HURRICANE (doubtfully, to SUMMIT): I’m still not sure this is the best-
SUMMIT (ignoring HURRICANE and instead announcing to CROWD): Wolves of Sliver Pack! Gather around! Tonight, I have called this meeting for a very special reason.
CROWD: *excited murmurings*
SUMMIT: But first, allow me to introduce a wolf you all know and love- Hurricane!!! *howls*
CROWD: *joins howl, mingled calls of “Summit!” and “Hurricane!”*
HURRICANE (shooting one last glance at SUMMIT before putting on a confident, easygoing manner): Hello everyone! How are we feeling tonight?
CROWD: *thunderous cheer*
HURRICANE (as he begins setting up his instruments): Love to hear it! It’s quite the special night.
HURRICANE: *begins to play Sliver Pack’s anthem*
CROWD: *sings along*
SUMMIT (comes up to stand behind Hurricane’s shoulder as the song ends): Thank you, thank you, everyone!
CROWD: *cheering, applause*
SUMMIT: And now for the announcement you’ve all been waiting for…
CROWD: *hushes*
SUMMIT: I am pleased to announce that we have eradicated the last of the shapeshifters. For too long, they have been the hidden jaws buried within our proud Pack, the threat that lurks in the unseen corners, ready to bite us when we least expect it. But fear no longer! We have at last chewed out the last of that cursed bloodline. They shall trouble us no more!
CROWD: *cheers*

~timeskip~

Hurricane is talking to Summit in private, in a secluded glen in the forest.

HURRICANE (irritated and pleading): We can’t keep lying to them like this! They’re going to find out sooner or later.
SUMMIT (nonchalantly): It’s for their own good. We can’t have panic and distrust undermining this Pack, now, can we?
HURRICANE (growling): Undermining YOU, maybe. What happened to you, Summit? Ever since you became leader, every other word out of your jaws is deceit- either that, or foolish pride and vanity!
SUMMIT (tensing up): Now, now, Hurricane. Is your job not the same thing?
HURRICANE (indignantly): A Storyteller’s tales may, at times, be fiction, but there is truth in them still! The meanings-
SUMMIT (waving him off): Yeah, yeah. So long as you keep them entertained.
HURRICANE (coldly): If that is truly all I mean to you, then I am your Storyteller no longer.
SUMMIT (laughing, but with a note of warning): Oh, you’ll be back. Your job means nothing without a Pack. And as long as you’re in this Pack… you belong to me.

PART 2: Parody

(Author’s note: This is based on the November 14 daily about the daily team going on strike, set to the tune of “You’ll Be Back” from Hamilton because of a comment made by @PoppyWriter: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/34040524/comments/#comments-240619312 )

You say
That you no longer want to go write the prompts every day
You cry
Writing’s too hard, and there’s no reward, so there’s no reason why

Why so mean?
Remember, you’ve got jobs to fill that won’t go away
This is your scene
Remember, despite your strong will, you’re our daily team

You’ll be back, soon you’ll see
You’ll remember you belong to SWC
You’ll be back, time will tell
You’ll remember you’ve got stories to tell
Campers write, cabins fall
We have seen each other through it all
And when push comes to shove
We will rain down arson mangoes to remind you of our love!

Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da, dat, dat, da-ya-da
Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da, dat, dat, da-ya

You say dailies are draining, and you can't go on
You'll be the one complainin' when we are gone
And no, don’t try to revamp
‘Cause we’re already the best camp
A typing, hype-ing writing camp
Writing, fighting, ‘til fingers cramp
Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

You’ll be back, like before
Just wait until next cabin war
Then you’ll see, then you’ll know
Without you, Scratch Writing Camp will implode
So come back, call off your strike
Bring back the dailies that we like
‘Cause when push comes to shove
We will write a combined total of millions of words to remind you of our love

Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da, dat, dat, da-ya-da
Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da, dat- everybody!

Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da, dat, dat, da-ya-da
Da-da-da, dat-da, dat, da-da-da, da-ya-da
Da-da-da, dat, da-ya-da-ahhhh

PART 3: SWC Fanfiction

(Author’s note: The date and descriptions of SWC and Cabin Wars are accurate, but all events and interactions described are fictitious. They may be inspired by real occurrences but are not directly representative of real occurrences.)

On the morning of November 11, 2023, all seemed peaceful in the world of Scratch. The sky was still dark, but dawn was rapidly approaching, and a hush fell over the site. If one were to take a stroll through the quiet forums and unstirring studios, they would surely have felt an air of hope, of endless possibilities, of goals nearly in grasp. There were few people up and about, sure, but before too long, more users would awaken. The world would open up like the bud of a flower, filled to the brim with life. Everywhere, creators would design new projects and commenters would explore the vast terrain of content.
Yes, all was well in Scratch on that calm morning. That is, except for one studio in particular. This was a studio that had arisen for this month and this month only, and it was roiling with energy, despite the earliness of the day. In fact, it was active at all hours, constantly bustling and singing and reverberating with the sound of typing. The studio that never sleeps: the November 2023 Main Cabin of Scratch Writing Camp.
As the sun pulled itself over the horizon, it illuminated the looming figure of this sleepless studio. It was a sturdy building that had to be at least several stories tall, but there was only one floor, with a singular, massive room. Other, smaller buildings surrounded this central structure, each of their paths leading up to it. From a distance, the multitude of campers that dwelled within these buildings could be seen scuttling about, appearing to be in quite a hurry. They ran from building to building, arms overflowing with papers, mangoes, and instruments of writing. On this day, there was even more activity than usual- it was positively exploding.
Exploding in both the literal and figurative senses, as it turns out. Because, you see, this day was Cabin Wars. These Wars, fought between the many cabin factions within SWC, were a planned event that happened twice within the month-long lifespan of the studio- only twice because neither the camp buildings nor the campers could possibly withstand a third in such a short span of time.
The Wars were a ferocious business, and the factions, who normally operated alongside each other in playful, if competitive, harmony, turned on each other with merciless force, challenging and pushing each other to their limits in the arena of writing. Some cabins fell, crushed beneath the pressure, while others thrived in the midst of battle, in the thrill of it all.
One camper, who went by the name of Wild, paused in the Main Cabin, a notepad in one hand and a mechanical pencil in the other. They glanced around, surveying the chaos as writers from every cabin rushed from door to door. The Main Cabin was a middle ground for them all, but that didn’t mean it was peaceful in these times of war. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Mangoes were thrown, arson was committed, and the walls themselves rang with the combined fury of a hundred keyboards.
However, despite all this turmoil, Wild noticed that not a lot was getting DONE. Some campers scampered about aimlessly, not realizing their cabin had an ongoing war that required their assistance. Other cabins lounged around, unwarred, even though their shields had been down for hours.
It was messy, unorganized. Thankfully, Wild had been paying attention. They alone had collected the information that just might improve the process, painstakingly stalking from cabin to cabin, until they had traversed the entire length of the leaderboard from top to bottom, documenting and observing. Unseen, they went up to the great bulletin board on the front wall and transferred the words from their notepad to the announcement post.
However, when the words showed up, everyone noticed. Emblazoned across the building’s wall were every cabin’s shield-fall times, compiled into an orderly chronological list. The exact second that anyone became vulnerable, EVERYONE would know, cabin members and enemies alike. Wild grinned, everyone’s attention now on them, as they stood beneath the words that were their accomplishment. “Should spice things up a little, hmm?” they challenged, spreading their arms wide and addressing the whole room.
“You’re so evil!” objected Sarah. The Fairy Tales camper glared pointedly at Wild.
“Never trust a Dystopian camper,” Summer added, shaking her head sadly while sitting astride one of Fantasy’s dragons.

This is the daily from 11-17-22, I'm sharing this again to show some people ;3

***

(This is read to the tune of “Blank Space,” just so I could play my part in the Taylor Swift referencing. xD)

Hello there, banana bread
I think you’re an awesome food
Moistness, sweetness, must be fed
Tried a bite and I thought
Oh my god, this flavor’s great
Making me feel warm and safe
Can’t help but love the amazing taste!

Soft touch, cakey core
I eat you up immediately
Now I’m left, wanting more
It’s the texture of my dreams!

When I first heard of banana bread
I must admit, I was hesitant
But I tried a bite and then went “wow”
It’s better than I thought, somehow

So let’s try baking!
I hope it doesn’t catch fire
I’m not skilled in the kitchen
But at least I’m feeling inspired
Making messes everywhere
It’s quite a sight to see
But you know that with all my care
It won’t end in catastrophe!

Can try some variations
Add several other bits
Tastiest creations
Raisins, nuts, or chocolate chips!

Got a short list of ingredients
Was easier than I thought
And now I’ve got banana bread
So eat it while it’s hot!

Popular wherever you look
The 1930s saw its rise
Published in a cookbook
It has now spread worldwide!

Exactly what you want
I could eat it for months
Still, I find raw bananas gro-oss

Munching, chomping, nibbling crumbs
Time to cut another slice
Devouring bread in vast sums
Keep on happily eating like
Oh my god, I’ve had so much bread
And the garlic kind is still the best
But banana bread enthralls me too
‘Cause, really, it’s just like cake that you can chew

So I have to stop now
Because I’m very full
But I know that tomorrow
There are leftovers still!

Got lots more of it to eat
Saved for another day
As time went by, I gave up meat
But bread is here to stay!

I put the rest into the fridge
And know that even when it’s gone
It’ll remain a beloved dish
My obsession shall live on!

Got a long list of reasons
Many of which I’ve said
So I hope that you have learned why
I love banana bread!

Weekly Two: Humor
Total Word Count: 1385/1250
Part One Word Count: 353/350
Part Two Word Count: 251/250
Part Three Word Count: 744/700
Date Completed (for me): 11/17/23
Time Completed (UTC): 10:41PM
Time Completed (MST): 2:41PM
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/

Part One: Humorous Skit

Sky: I’m going to die.
Lena: Why?
Sky: Because.
Lena: You can’t just say “Because” and not add anything behind it.
Sky: Yes I can.
Lena: No you can’t.
Sky: Yes I can.
Lena: Why?
Sky: Because.
Lena: That isn’t a valid reason! You can’t just say that!
Sky: Yes I can.
Lena: Don’t keep saying that!
Sky: Why?
Lena: Because it makes no sense.
Sky: I don’t want to make sense.
Lena: I’m confused.
Sky: Then mission accomplished.
Lena: Whatever. Let me try again. Why are you “going to die?”
Sky: Because mom is making me mow the lawn.
Lena: And whyyy will that kill you?
Sky: It’s not meant to make sense, Lena! Okay??
Mom: Sky, I told you to do the lawn an hour ago. Go. now.
Sky: I willll.
Mom:
Lena:

Sky: Yeah, yeah, I gotta have reasons, yeah, yeah, I should’ve already been done, UGH.
Lawnmower: Ahem, you’re wasting gas.
Sky: I did NOT just hear that. Did I?
Lawnmower: You did, darling. Now, now, get started on mowing. I’m already quite low.
Sky:

Sky: Sooo, when did you come to life?
Lawnmower: Well that’s a little rude, isn’t it?
Sky: No…? Why would it be?
Lawnmower: That’s a very private thing for a lawnmower. Our people cherish that date, and only ever share it with dear friends.
Sky: Well, alright. If you’re sure.
Lawnmower: Quite sure.
Sky: Okayyyy.
Lawnmower: If smirking was an option for me, I would.
Sky: Huh. Okay. So you can’t move yourself?
Lawnmower: Nope. Only humans can do that.
Sky: What else can’t you do?
Lawnmower: Breathe, have an appreciation for food, understand music, things like that.
Sky: Wow, that’s sad.
Lawnmower: Not really.
Sky: Why not?
Lawnmower: Because.

Part Two: Song Parody (Song Used: Tangled Up by Caro Emerald) (This is horrible XD)
I traveled down the driveway, holding my lawnmower
It just talked. I stopped my walk
With all the fuel in the world
You could never satisfy this girl
This is not enough, this is quite rough
If talking to me when you shouldn’t is something you can not do
Please tell me that I am not a loon
And get me doubting, and shouting, worried by a lot
You could be staying quiet, but no you aren’t
You can’t be faking it, could you?
With all this newness, don't get me confused
I can’t separate reality
From what is a fantasy
I am a mess, is this a test?
I don’t have any idea how to deal with you
I AM INSANE, IF THAT IS THE GAME
I WANT TO KNOW IF I
WILL BE ABOUT TO PRY
And get me doubting, and shouting, worried by a lot
You could be staying quiet, but no you aren’t
You can’t be faking it, could you?
With all this newness, don't get me confused
TREATING ME LIKE I’M DUMB
IS A NO NO, I BEG YOU TO BE KIND
IF PLAYING WITH MY MIND IS NORMAL OF YOUR KIND
PLEASE DON’T JUST SAY “NEVER MIND”
And get me doubting, and shouting, worried by a lot
You could be staying quiet, but no you aren’t
You can not be faking it, could you?
With all this around me, don't get me confused
Mmm, oh-oh-oh-oh, confused
Mmm, oh-oh-oh-oh, confused
Mmm, mhmm, confused
Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, confused

Part Three: SWC Fanfic (all characters in this aren’t meant to resemble real people, and any similarities weren’t intentional)
I traveled down the road, sitting in a bus. It was crowded and filled with the smell of mangoes. Glitter flew through the air, and I knew that by the end of the month, I’d be covered in the stuff.
“Hey!” Said a girl, a dirty blond sitting in front of me. She turned back over the back of the seat and held out a mango, “Here! Free of charge.”
I looked at the fruit, making a face, “Oh- uh, thanks-”
She grinned as I took it from her. She handed me a flimsy plastic butter knife, “Here’s the best I can do.”
I smiled and took that from her as well, beginning to cut into the slightly bruised mango.
“I’m Amanda!” She said after a second.
“Oh, nice to meet you Amanda. I’m Jackie.” I said, smiling at her.
She giggled, “Nice to meet you too Jackie. Can I call you just Jack? Or Jacko?”
I shrugged, “Sure, whatever’s fine.”
She grinned, “Perfect, Jacko it is.”
I gave her a slight smile before returning to cutting the mango.

The rest of the bus ride passed by, though it was anything but quiet. I was glad that I had packed headphones.
The bus parked in front of a large building that bore an uncanny resemblance to the big house in Peter Johnson. I stepped out of the bus and went to the back to collect my luggage. I had several bags with me. My clothes and my necessities were packed into one gigantic suitcase, and all my electronics were stored in a duffel bag. I grabbed both and made my way to the main cabin. I set my suitcase to the side and walked up the steps.
Someone met me at the door, “Oh my goodness! Hey! What’s your name??”
I was taken aback, “U-uh, Jackie Summers.”
They squealed, “Perfect! Follow me, okay? I’m pretty sure that I’m your leader for the month! I’m Umi!”
“Very nice to meet you Umi.” I said, smiling.
They giggled, “Nice to meet you too.”
They led me over to a table and helped me fill out the necessary forms, as well as download a new SWC app that they were using for the first time this session. It had a lot of very helpful features, and Umi helped me through setting it up on my laptop and phone.
After all that was done, Umi led me to our cabin, named after the Fanfiction genre. They explained to me as we walked, “So, we’re gonna ask you to stay off of allll social media except for Scratch, since we’ll be using that.” They giggled. “Can you do that?”
“Yeah.” I affirmed. I only ever scrolled on Pintrigue anyway.
“Perfect! If you ever have any troubles, let me know. People kindaaa call me a tech whiz.” They grinned.
I nodded, “Thanks, I’ll probably have to take you up on that offer at some point.”
They laughed, “Great. Anyyyyywayyysss, here we are!” They gestured to the fanfiction cabin, which seemed to be modeled after the fanfiction site BO3. The place was HUGE by summer camp standards, and I got my own bunk with a desk space below it. There was a little corkboard near the entrance of the cabin, as well as a whiteboard. The whiteboard had a small message written on it.
‘Hey y’all! Welcome to the Fanfiction Cabin! Get to know your leaders and your word count group! Question of the Day: What’s your favorite fanfiction trope?’
I took a marker and wrote my answer in the corner.
Umi looked at the board, “Oh? Really? That one’s your favorite?”
I nodded, “Yeah, hanahaki fics make me cry every time.”
Umi shrugged, “I guess that makes sense. They’re not really my style, but you do you.”
I nodded and set my stuff on my bunk.
Umi chatted my ear off as I put my stuff on the desk, “You know, you’re the first camper that’s arrived. We’ve had to cut down camper sizes, but I’m super excited to even just be leading one small cabin. Have you ever done SWC online before? Oh, of course you have, otherwise you wouldn’t have signed up in the first place. Oh, you HAVE to check out the shack to the side of the main cabin. It has TALKING lawnmowers! I know! It’s crazy.”
They continued to ramble as I worked with my stuff. This would be a fun month, no doubt.

critique 11-17-23

Aw, so sad :’< You did an amazing job of conveying the emotion in this passage. As the reader, I felt a lot of sympathy for the main character and the loss they experienced. You definitely achieved the reaction you were going for. Honestly, I couldn’t find a lot to nitpick, but I’ve got to write something for this critique, so I’ll give it a try. Since you asked for any obvious grammar corrections, the sentence “Little kids set fire to the ends of sticks before parading them proudly around the adults and older kids, who constantly try to convince them to stop because that’s not exactly safe and a bunch of eight year olds with flaming torches is a terrifying sight” is a bit of a run-on. It felt somewhat awkward to read. I would recommend splitting it up into something more like “Little kids set fire to the ends of sticks, proudly parading them around. The adults and older kids were constantly trying to convince them to stop because it wasn’t exactly safe. Plus, a bunch of eight-year-olds with flaming torches is a terrifying sight.” Adding another sentence after that describing how the young children reacted, or whether the adults’ actions were futile, might help to complete the visual. Next, the section where your main character referenced the life-changing car accident should receive more focus. For such an important detail, it’s passed over unceremoniously in a single sentence. I’d also recommend slowing the pacing in the paragraph surrounding that sentence, maybe even splitting it into multiple paragraphs so that it stands out more. Next, the sentence “A bonfire of my own lights inside me, but instead of burning sticks and logs it’s rage, fear, pain” is REALLY good, but I think there should be a comma after “logs.” Also, if you wanted to make it more dramatic, you could separate the “rage, fear, pain” with periods instead of commas, but that’s entirely up to you and your writing style. The next few paragraphs are absolutely beautiful, and there isn’t a thing I would change about them. I particularly like your conclusion; it was very hard-hitting at the end. All in all, amazing writing! :00

517 words including your quotes, 424 words without quotes from your story

Oh my goodness, the symbolism on this piece is incredible.

But perhaps the most beautiful of all was the young love radiating from the couple down below, so infectious it appeared all of nature had succumbed and come together to paint a picture of peace and joy.

The word “love” is repeated twice in two sentences right next to each other. It makes sense to want to include this, but for the purpose of highlighting that Rose and Paul are the ones in love, I suggest getting rid of “the love songs of the birds” to the “sweet songs of the birds”, or something similar.

Already his face had lost the circular features of childhood, replaced by hard, square lines, carving out his jawbone and nose. And yet still a handful of freckles were scattered across his cheeks, and there were no creases to be seen around his eyes or mouth, adding the element of youth.

I would suggest getting rid off the creases around his eyes and mouth, and perhaps adding something a bit more soulful. For example:

His brilliant blue eyes still retained a sparkle of happiness and youth.

Something that adds to the innocent character of the moments of peace, especially in contrast to the dark image of war later portrayed in this story.

And then they got to the train.

Describe the train a little more. Does the station have a foul stench of smoke? Are there sobbing families surrounding their own brave soldiers? Is the tone really gloomy, or are there people singing triumphant war songs to send everyone off?

Something I’d suggest doing is this:

Paul clasped her hand in his. Swarms of people hurrying past threatened to tear them apart, but they held each other strong.

This could be further use of symbolism.

and then disappeared into the crowd of young, eager soldiers.

There’s nothing wrong with this here, but for extra effect I would get rid of one of the adjectives. This will better highlight how quickly he disappeared.

This was not the war he had been promised.

Punchy and awesome, I would definitely recommend keeping it. But perhaps it would be more effective if you talked about what the war he imagined was like, before coming to this point. Perhaps:

As he worked in the bloodstained fields the image of the valiance of war he had clung onto had been destroyed. The betrayal on his heart crisscrossed the dark stains on the ground.

I’m assuming this is in the First World War, as that is the point where people do not realise the brutal reality of meaningless wars. The ambiguity of this paragraph is really good, however. So if you don’t think we should go on about this part, it will still sound epic.

A few grammar issues include when you say:

“To hard” is “too hard”

“It a deep red” is “It was a deep red”

Now this is definitely one of the best pieces I’ve seen written in SWC, the contrast and connection between objects and people are incredible. Well done on such an amazing job!

daily!!

“Come on, Padfoot. It’s just making sugar cookies. It really isn’t all that hard.”
Sirius is leaning his entire upper body on the counter in some sort of strange protest. It’s unfair for a whole bunch of reasons.
“Have you really never made cookies before?” I ask.
“Have you?” He challenges.
“Once or twice when I was really little. I’m sure I was more of a hindrance than a help.”
“Then how can you say it’s not hard?” Sirius asks. “It’s not like you really have any idea, is it?”
I sigh in exasperation. “Padfoot, you’ve read the recipe. It’s incredibly simple. You made Polyjuice potion at thirteen, you’re a freaking animagus, baking sugar cookies is nothing compared to that.”
“What if I just lay here and watch you make the cookies, and then eat them when you’re done?”
“Well for one thing, I’m going to need to use the counter.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Right. That.”
“Seriously, move it. Or I’ll have to resort to brute force.”
“I feel like I should make a joke from some part of that statement but I can’t decide which is better.”
“I wasn’t kidding, you know.” I say as I not so gently shove my boyfriend off the counter. He exaggerates his fall and tumbles onto the floor.
“That was mean,” he says. But he clearly doesn’t really mean it if how much he’s laughing is any indication.
“Butter, sugar.” I tell him. “Start mixing.”
He touches his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. “Yes sir, right away, sir.”

“They burnt.” Sirius proclaims frustratedly. “You said you knew what you were doing!”
“They’re not burnt,” I explain.
“Moony, they’re brown on the bottom!”
“They’re supposed to be, that’s how you know they’re not raw on the inside.”
“Are you sure?” He asks.
“Eat one and see.”
Sirius picks up a still-warm cookie and puts the entire thing into his mouth at once. His eyes light up.
“Moony,” he said once he’s chewed most of the cookie, “this is incredible.”
I grin. “Told you so.”

Churro's Dailies #19
bi-daily (word count: 551)

The beautiful sunset illuminates the sky, and the sun was hiding in the clouds, sometimes smiling down on us, sometimes bashfully receding back into the fluffy clumps. The scene was so peaceful, almost surreal. Millions of shades of orange and purple and pink cast out like sunrays, shadowing the clouds, painting them different hues of gold. The sun-kissed trees shown up as a bright aura, as groups of amber. It looks as if the sky is ablaze.
We set out the red-and-white checkered blanket, dancing in the light breeze. I lay out the different goodies Fern, my best friend, and I brought; jam-dripping bread, orange marmalade, cinnamon rolls… the list goes on.
Soon the picnic is filled, each dish positioned in an Instagram-worthy way. With the picturesque scene, the small party is complete. It's perfect. Fern and I grin at each other, our faces bright in the sun. The sunset picnic shall commence.
Sunset picnics are still our favorite tradition. Fern and I call it our “bonding time”, though I don't think our friendship needs any more bonding. We've compared it to a sunset a lot: The sky is Fern, and I am the sun. She says after she met me, and we became friends, I brightened her horizon, sprinkled sugar on her days. And so then, the tradition of ‘sunset picnics’ were born.
After we finish the treats, all the cakes and bourbons and tea in our stomachs, we watch the sun set, talk, and wait till nightfall. Then the sun falls below, and the stars appear, twinkling like little eyes.
We lay on our backs, and gaze up at the faraway balls of light. We enjoyed the sunset's bright tinges, but we also respect the night's absence of color. It gives us a different perspective on things. Even darkness can be beautiful, the stars blinding, the night enveloping us in its embrace.
We turn off our flashlights, and gasp.
The stars spill over the dark cloth that is night, like glitter. White dots, while however small, take over the night sky. It is so dark, yet so bright. And that ambiguity makes it even more complex. Complex, and dazzling.
Fern and I look at each other, and we smile. We laugh. We stand up, and dance in the darkness, running down the hills, the night wind rushing through our hair, whispering in our ears. The sunset picnic is now the night sky picnic, as we call it.
We bring out our lanterns, and attract the fireflies, luring them into the lantern. Then we set them free, their yellow light against the white droplets of stars in the sky. We sit down, and watch the fireflies fly, fly in circles, clumps, loops, setting their little lights on and off. It is truly magical.
We watch the blinking radiances for a while.
Then, Fern leans in and whispers to me, “You know what I love about this the most?”
“What? Those freaking delicious tarts I brought?” I joke.
“No,” she laughs. “It's that you're here… to share this experience with me.”
We just sit and watch the night, watch the fireflies, and taste the air on our tongues.
“Well, the tarts were pretty delicious, you have to admit.”
Fern smiles. “Yeah. They were.”
The night sky had never glittered even brighter.

nov. 18 daily: not all that glitters is gold, 869 words

Sidekick dragged a hand down his face, sighing. It had been a long day. First there’d been the bank robbery, and then the run-in with Cupcake Man, and finally the clash with Lady Toes. Summary: Not fun.
At least not for him. As the sidekick, he obviously wasn’t as talented as his partner, and he was always having to be rescued by his partner. Sometimes he suspected that Hero only kept him around to make herself look good, but he instantly banished the thought whenever it surfaced. Hero was a good person; that was why she did what she did. No way would she stoop to something so…petty.
The day wasn’t over yet, so Sidekick wandered aimlessly around Hero’s headquarters. She was out on some mission that was beyond his capabilities–which he understood, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to be left behind, no matter how many times he told himself that it was just how things worked. As the only certified superheroes in New Very Big City, they had to be ready to respond immediately during work hours, and sometimes beyond that. Most of the time, actually. Sidekick glanced at his face in a mirror as he passed by. As he’d expected, there were bags under his eyes, and his face was creased into a weary frown. Sighing, he rubbed the palm of his hand into his face, so he didn’t notice the door until he bumped into it. Surprised, he dropped his hand and opened his eyes.
His gaze would have slid right past it if he’d just walked by, instead of running into it headfirst. It was a nondescript wooden door, with a plain metal knob. But now that he was really looking at it, it struck him as strange that there were so many locks on it. It wouldn’t have been as surprising if they were on a thick, vault-like door (and there were a lot of those here), but this looked like a perfectly ordinary door, like it could lead into a bedroom.
His curiosity aroused, he reached out to touch one of the locks, but his hand rebounded before he could touch it, and with wide eyes he realized that Hero had placed one of her sonic barriers around it. She’d coded most of them to let him in with no problem, but not this one. Not for this door.
She was hiding something from him, and he wanted–needed–to know what it was.
He activated his super power, which allowed him to temporarily move as though he were boneless, rather like an octopus, and tried to use it to slither under the door, but the barrier had been placed there too, which made him realize that not only had she kept this from him, she’d specifically tried to keep him out. Which probably shouldn’t have hit him so hard, but it did. This was his partner. His friend. And she was hiding something behind her back.
He ran his fingers along the wall next to the door, searching for the barrier devices. It was disguised, painted the same white color as the hallways, but this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this. He crushed it with his thumbnail and began working on the locks.
It took two hours of nerve-racking, spine-tingling, sweat-itching effort before he unlocked them all, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder in case Hero was sneaking up on him–but when he finished she was still gone, so he had to assume that the mission she was on must have been really hard. That, or she was hiding, watching him somewhere. The thought made him break out in goosebumps.
All the same, he wasn’t going to let his too-active imagination stop him. He opened the door and found…
…piles of stuff.
And not just any stuff, but stuff he recognized.
Three sacks with the True Blue Bank Company logo on them. Four goblets that had been stolen from Mr. Moneybags last month. They’d tracked down the villain, but the goblets had been gone for good. Or so he’d thought.
His stomach attempted to crawl up his throat and sit on his tongue. This was beyond keeping a few things whose owner couldn’t be identified, or wasn’t able to claim. This was…this was robbery.
Hero was a thief.
Something clicked behind him, and he flinched violently, whirling around. Hero stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
Sidekick found his voice and pointed at the valuables. “What is this?”
Hero raised a shaking hand to her mouth. “I have no idea. Is that…are those Mr. Moneybag’s goblets?” She grabbed one and held it up to her face, shaking her head. “This is awful. They need to be returned immediately.”
Sidekick opened his mouth to accuse her, but as if she’d read his mind, Hero spun to him. “Sidekick. You have to believe…I’ve been framed, someone planted these here, I swear I had no idea…”
She kept talking, pleading her innocence, but all he could think about was how if she really had stolen them, she must have gotten very good at lying over the years.
And there was no reason that those talents should desert her now.

Daily #18
(368 words)

Prompt — “the chosen one goes missing and is pronounced dead - the sidekick must step in to save the day and find out whether or not the chosen one was truly dead after all…”

Grey had always been known as “the sidekick”. He was the confidante, the one who had been there the through thick and thin. It was just like living in the shadows of his best friend, who was always getting the attention and admiration of those around him; it simply wasn't fair.

Next to him stood Archie, the son of the royal Hayes family, already known as the “chosen one” of their bloodline, and more or less, Grey's best friend. Their lives were opposites, where Archie's destiny had already been written, and Grey, someone little people even knew about.

Now, Archie had gone missing, and the kingdom was in turmoil. Rumours spread like wildfire as days went by with still no word from the King. After a whole week, the people of the kingdom assumed the worst; the prince had perished in the line of duty. The people, especially the King and Queen themselves, were filled with a sense of dread and sadness - all they had put their faith in had seemingly failed them. Of course, except for Grey, who knew his bestfriend too well to know he was strong and too brave to have been killed that easily, to let the world give up on him without a fight.

That night, he set out on his special quest to discover the truth. He ignored the thought the bound of him facing danger, but continued his way with hope, risking his own life in the process.

Deep in the forest from across the kingdom, Grey stumbled upon an even larger concentric castle, covered in thick stone. Above him, shone bright chandelier lights, leading to the entrance of a room. It held open by the wind, voices emerging from below. Grey immediately realised it was of Archie's, a weak cry of the taken prisoner.

He walked through the tunneled room, where Archie stood alive and well, even if he had been unconscious for weeks. It was a result of a poisoning deemed lethal by their captor.

Either way, safe and sound, Grey felt relieved, his bestfriend was together with him again. To the news, the rest of the kingdom rejoiced and the people also celebrated the return of their savior.

“Are you sure about this?” Wind shouted, their voice straining against the roar of the gale.
“Yeah, I used to do it during every storm!” Silver shouted back, his feathers blowing fiercely. “Watch this!”
With a mighty leap, he surged into the air, flapping hard to orient himself in the battering rain. Wind watched from below, digging his claws into the ground just to anchor himself so that he didn’t get blown away.
Silver swooped and dove, performing tricks in the sky, somehow managing to fight the blustering storm. “Want to join?” he called, eyes flashing with the thrill of the danger.
Well, Wind wasn’t one to turn down a challenge. Anything Silver could do, surely he could, too. After all, Silver wasn’t the only one who learned from an expert. Heck, ‘Wind’ was even in their name.
“Oh, I’m coming!” Wind replied, spreading his wings and relishing the feel of the powerful breeze lifting him up. It struck at him from every angle, trying to send him spiraling out of the sky, but he fought back. He mastered it. He had control over the storm too- easily as good at flying as Silver. “Let’s go!” he howled, beating his wings and racing upward.
“Can’t catch me!” Silver laughed and spun away, both of them chasing higher and higher into the dark clouds above.
“You sure about that?” Wind struggled to push himself even harder, squinting to keep sight of Silver’s tail ahead of him in the downpour. It seemed that ever since he met Silver, Wind had been following his tail. Well, not today. Today, they’d show Silver just how great they could be!
Panting heavily, Wind spread his wings and soared, realizing he had already passed Silver. But where was he?
“Silver?” Wind called, barely able to hear his own voice. “Silver?”

To start, let me just say that I really liked your direct interpretation of the flower symbolism. Having your characters aware of the meanings behind the flowers, instead of just making them be symbolic to the reader, made the story’s emotion feel very immediate and genuine. The repetition of “separation” when Mary broke down crying in the garden even provided a structure for that whole section. There was also some symbolism in the weather, I noticed- It set the mood throughout the whole passage: bright and sunny in the joyful beginning, then becoming stormy during the hardship in the middle, and finally becoming sunny again at the end. The personification of the sun was a nice touch, from when it was “painting yellow” to when it “shared a lone ray.” It was well-worded and definitely made the passage more interesting. Honestly, I couldn’t find many things about your writing to fix. If I had to suggest something, I’d say set up a few more interactions between the characters at the beginning in order to really establish a sense of their personalities and the nature of their relationship. That would help the reader form closer attachments to the characters, and therefore the pain of seeing them separated later on would be more impactful. Also, maybe introduce the Everlasting flower at the beginning, so that the ending of the passage references something that is already familiar, creating a recurring image to support the central theme of undying friendship. As far as grammar/punctuation/clarity errors go, there were fewer than one would expect for a piece that you mentioned was translated with Google Translate. The few that I caught were “five-petal flower” should be “five-petalled flower,” there should be a period after “observe it better” and a capital letter used to start the next sentence, “the harm she made me” should be rephrased to something more like “the harm she caused me,” “vision field” would sound better as “field of vision,” and there should be a period after “getting away from you.” (There may be others that I missed, I’m not the greatest at proofreading- ) Anyway, yeah, there isn’t really anything else I’d correct. This passage was excellently written, great job! :3

602 words critique

Hi! Great job so far. Here’s my feedback. I’m trying not to do sentences that you can just directly put in, but terms, so please keep that in mind as you read through this.

As the night unveils its foggy untouched dark blue sky where stars rise and emerge together, Julia reaches her hand out to the waters.

It’s a little clunky. “Unveils” is also the wrong tense in comparison to the rest of the writing piece. Actually, the majority of the piece switches back and forth in tenses, you should keep an eye out for that. Also decide: Is it going to be in past tense, or present tense?

You should include the “where the stars rise and emerge together” somewhere else. Speaking of that sentence. “Rise and emerge” means the same thing - it sounds very waffly when mentioning them both, but I understand that you want to create a sense of mystery with personification. You should choose one or the other, and replace it with another verb.

They crowded her as she deeply gazed into her reflection, her reflection of the waters.

I love the suspense, but you have to be more clear about what you’re talking about, at least later in the paragraph. Are the shadows murmuring, taunting her? (Her conscience?)

now the hazy evening skies were gathering.

Here the reader will be confused. You mentioned a night earlier, so the next thing should be dawn. Perhaps you should mention a something else that hints towards dawn instead.

She strided in pure joy,

Similar to the evening skies, the readers will pause and go “hang on a sec.” There is pure panic and fear radiating from the other paragraphs - well done on that! - but suddenly, without any explanation, she’s feeling epic. You need to include the transition on why she’s suddenly experiencing joy.

with the wind, it was almost morning

No comma needed here. It should be a full stop.

That’s so rude, you are a very nosy, jealous and annoying person,

The dialogue here is very unrealistic. You should mention Mary flinching, staring at Julia in disbelief. You shouldn’t list her qualities like “very nosy, jealous, annoying”, because that’s not what one would typically do in real life. Try to find more creative ways for Mary to express her disgust than simply just telling Julia.

More shadows, more mistakes in Julia’s life.

Okay I just want to say that’s really cool.

Strolling down the path gleefully she spotted a huge ant hole, her grin faded and disintegrated into her face.

No comma needed between ant hole and her grin. It should be a full stop. Also, again, why is she grinning after losing a friendship? You need to keep showing the transition.

Her teacher passed down the papers covered in red of critique or wrong answers, she got to Julia where everyone glanced over to see if they got better scores.

I notice that often you seem to include commas instead of full stops. Read the sentence in your mind. Would it sound better if there was a full stop, or is there an unfinished idea that will therefore require a comma? There is no comma needed between “wrong answers” and “she got to Julia”, instead there should be a full stop.

Julia swung open the metal fridge, annoyed once more.

Isn’t she concerned about why her bossy mum is acting so… unhinged? Unless this is something that usually happens with her and her mum.

Overall, awesome job!

what a meaningful and beautiful poem, great job and good luck in the writing competition <3

Then the leaves sigh
And the wind blows around her face
The green stands tall, firm in the wind,
And so does she.

there is a period needed after “then the leaves sigh” ^^

Then the leaves vanish,
A flurry of frost
Though not of vain
Pure beauty- snow falling.

the correct preposition would be “though not in vain” and not “though not of vain”

The dark days are behind.
It is a time of hope, and wonder.
The darkness gone-
The green thrives.

the correct grammar would be "the dark days are behind us“ and ”the darkness is gone“. there is no comma needed after the word ”hope".

She wouldn't let it stop.
It grew, even more.
What was already green became greener-
She continued to have hope.

no comma needed after the word “grew”

Even though the dark days are behind,
Don't forget hope.
Don't forget thanks, because then the darkness will return.
And don't forget love.

"even though the dark days are behind us"

Even though. she could've walked away,
The flower having given her joy,
She stayed.
She cared.

there is a comma needed after the word “flower”