swc megathread ☾ november 2023

seIkie-

whoops

Last edited by seIkie- (Jan. 2, 2024 20:37:31)

-vanillamochabear-

weekly 2 (humour weekly) forum version (already claimed for points and stuff but eh)

part one: humorous skit
{The curtains open, and the spotlight is on a young GIRL seated in a wooden chair. Her head is facing down. The audience applauds.}
GIRL: Welcome one, welcome all, to the show of a lifetime! Our performers are proud to present—
{The mic crackles, and the rest of her message is not heard. Some soft music starts to play, and the audience isn’t sure what show they’re clapping for.}
NALA: Uh, what’re we watching?
MARGOT: A circus. Duh. There’s circus music in the background.
NALA: But who’s circus is it? And what type of circus? Are there elephants? Why would you buy us tickets to the circus if you’re not even entirely sure what’s in it?
{MARGOT thought that these were very good questions. It was unfortunate that she held no answers, so she just shoved buttered popcorn into her mouth. The music goes from really soft to really loud, with no in between. NALA jumped in her seat.}
NALA {laughing}: Oh. Guess wasn't the only one jumpscared!
MARGOT {rolling eyes}: I wasn't! Scaredy-cat.
NALA: That's ‘cause you have no emotions!
{The MUSIC is finally adjusted to a comfortable volume.}
MUSIC: ♫
{The lights dim, and the audience goes quiet.}
MAN {riding elephant}: ahem. Welcome to the Fantastically Great Circus!
AUDIENCE: ooooooooh.
MAN: Apologies for the past technical difficulties. Let the show—
{The mic cuts out again, and everybody sighs.}
MAN {tapping mic, barely audible}: Aw, shucks. Sorry, y’all. Ugh, why does this keep happening?
{The audience is silent. Only the sound of MARGOT's popcorn munching can be heard. They're all on the edge of their seats.}
MAN {yelling backstage}: Have you guys got it?
BACKSTAGE PEOPLE: -muffled arguing-
BACKSTAGE PERSON {slightly less muffled}: GOSH, have you people tried turning it off and back on again?
{They do that, and… the music starts to blare again.}
MARGOT {jumping}: Oh!
NALA: YES! Finally! Let the show begin! {she claps excitedly. so do the people around them.}
MAN: Alright, everyone! Once again, this is the Fantastically Great Circus! We may have been a little less Great to start, but I assure you, the rest of this show will blow your mind! {he rides into the audience, as a lot of people enter the stage.}
MARGOT and NALA: wooooo!!
+376 words

part two: parody of all i want for christmas is you (we all know who it’s by right)
STEVE {singing}:
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII don't think my request is greedy
There's literally a single thing I need
I woke up this morning confident, now I realize how wrong I was
I'm so disappointed in everyone here
(Everyone includes myself by the way)
So, hear my plea
All I want is the tech working for me
YEAHEAH

I'm not asking for a lot this show
I have one request, it's not that hard
Don't care about the cracks, the audience can't see those anyway
We can't afford maintenance, it can't matter that much, could it?
For all I care, this stage could wither and decay!

But the audience knows when the mic is broken
I can feel their stares, their disappointment
So, hear my plea
All I want is the tech working for me
meeee, YEAHEAH

Oh, I pretend it's no big deal
I brush it off and stay calm on stage (and iiiii)
The audience can't see my panic, my frantic searching
But deep down I'm crying, my braincells are quickly dying
I couldn't do math back in school, I'm surely not a smart guy

'Cause nothing ever turns out right
nothing ever in my life
Should I just quit my job?
Oh, mygosh, all I want is the tech working for me
meeee, yeaaaah

Oh-oh, I'm not the type of guy to have an office job (wooooooo)
Although it'd certainly be easier (oh, easy)
I could do with easy right now (you wish)
My elephant here is disappointed too
Won't the speakers work for longer than ten minutes? (yeah, no)
Why couldn't it just turn out that way?

Oh, I don't think my request is greedy
I don't even think it's hard
I just want to see my audience satisfied with meeee

Ugh, my misery is unbearable
I think I hate myself the most
So, hear my plea
Begging, all I want is the tech working for me
meeee, please

all I want is the tech working for me, pleaseeeee
all I want is the tech working for me, with sugar on top?
all I want is the tech working for me, please!
All I want is a functional (actually functional) sound system
All I want (I want) for today (just for today…) is…

{his coworker, JOE, enters the scene.}
JOE {flabbergasted}: Uhm, Steve, you okay?
STEVE {bright red}: Yeah, yeah, yeah! O-of course.
JOE {skeptical}: Alright… the tech guys wanted to let you know the sound system is back up, by the way.
STEVE: yeaaaaahhh let's see how long that lasts.
+422 words

part three: swc fanfiction, all characters are fictional!
Nala and Margot are together in one of the village’s mushroom houses. They’re huddled around a cell phone, its blue-ish screen lighting up the darkness. The girls are supposed to be asleep - but it was the second Saturday of the month, the day war was fated to break out amongst the cabins. Or, at least, it was almost Saturday. The clock currently reads 11:59pm, on Friday. Each second was like a countdown to a bomb. Nala bounced around excitedly. 3… 2… 1…
The numbers flashed to say 12:00am, and they both cheered. Chaos erupted throughout all of the realms of camp, as the campers screamed and ran to teleport to the main cabin.
“Let's go!” urged Margot, grabbing Nala's wrist. She smiled, and ran along to the village's shimmery portal. It was crowded but also had no real line, as everyone was just running through it once they got the chance.
The main cabin was just a really big house in the middle of a grassy field. It was surrounded by a half-circle of colorful portals, which all lead to the different cabins. There were some picnic tables and a firepit, which was a beloved gathering area despite not providing much. Right now, it had lots of energy - the main cabin's realm was usually closed during these hours, except this morning was not usually. An airplane flew across the night sky, one of those advertisement banners trailing behind it. It simply read, “CABIN WARS!”
The two of them ran for the bulletin board, where the wars were listed. Beneath it was a basket of negative point bombs - the instructions said to write the war on its papery surface, then throw it at a cabin of choice. Nala looked over at Margot, and they both smiled.
“So,” she began, “Wanna split up?”
“Yes, of course!” Margot exclaimed. “I'll go Sci-Fi, you go Mystery?”
“Sounds good,” said Nala. She grabbed one of the point-subtracting bombs, and they high-fived each other for good luck before sprinting to their portals.

Sci-Fi's portal was a bright cyan that almost hurt to look at. Needless to say, it stood out the most among all the other portals. Margot sprinted towards it before anyone else could, writing down her war at the same time. With careful consideration, she had chosen the one with the least time - a lot of people were currently running about outside of their cabin, and roughly a third of the camp was asleep (those were the good children). She ran through the cyan rectangle, hoping no one had come before her.
“CABIN WA–” she started to yell, but stopped abruptly when she saw the dragons in the sky. A couple of people were staring at her, and she blushed.
“Hey, you're from the mushroom cabin, right?” asked a girl with short brown hair. Margot recognized her as Amina.
“Yeah…” she shoved the bomb into her hoodie's pocket. “Look, I'm not attacking you guys! We're somewhere on the friendly spectrum, and I'm not a betrayer.”
Amina smiled. “I know. You're one of the nicest people I've met! Sooo… why are you here with a bomb, then?”
Margot fumbled for some words. “I meant to go to Sci-Fi - the portal was definitely bright cyan, and not gold like yours, I don't know what happened–”
Behind her, another camper stumbled out of the portal. He looked around, confused. “Huh, that's strange. I went through the portal for Lit-Fi, which is my cabin.”
“The portals must be down!” exclaimed Margot.
“That makes a lot of sense,” added Amina. “There's a lot of teleportation going on right now, and our system is fairly new.”
Margot sighed. Someone had definitely gotten to Sci-Fi before her. Ugh, this had to be the worst time for a technical difficulty.

Nala wrote down her war at the bulletin board. Then she sprinted for the dark blue circle at the center of the semi-circle - only to see that someone had gotten there just before she had. She groaned in frustration, hating herself for not being able to multi-task. She headed back to Illu-Fi sadly, surprised to see Margot stumble out of the portal shortly after her.
“Oh - you're back so quickly? No hanging around for the chaos or anything?” she tried to hide her disapointment.
“Mhm,” Margot replied glumly. “The portals aren't working properly, I went to Fantasy instead. Why are you back before me?”
“Didn't make it either. Someone was faster.”
They walked over to where a small crowd of villagers was gathered. There was a bomb in the middle of the plaza - they both groaned. Why was nothing going well?
+777 words

Last edited by -vanillamochabear- (Nov. 19, 2023 17:22:08)

booklover883322

5: Figurative Language
Word Count: 669/550
Date Completed (for me): 11/19/23
Time Completed (UTC): 9:56pm
Time Completed (MST): 2:56pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/

The slithering, sliding shadows traversed the cavern’s pathway. The pitter patter of footsteps followed close behind. Water delicately dripped from the ceiling, and the roar of water became louder with each step.
“Check down here.” A girl whispered, and a shadow obeyed. It crept into a larger cavern, before returning to the girl and cackled to her that it was safe. She climbed down into the cave and glanced around this new environment.
Vines wrapped around the walls and strangled statues that flanked a fountain with a platform that wasn’t very accessible. The statues depicted both men and women standing in various warrior-like poses, but on closer inspection Rose could tell that they showed them in their last moments.
Rose stalked over to one statue and read the faint plaque underneath it.
Azalea, Host of the Darkness
Cause of Death: Murder
Rose shuddered and turned away from her mother’s statue, instead looking at the others that guarded the fountain.
Stephen, Host of the Depths
Cause of Death: Cowardice

Monique, Host of the Light
Cause of Death: Revenge

Pauline, Host of the Growth
Cause of Death: Poison

Axel, Host of the Frost
Cause of Death: Frostbite

Bellen, Host of the Flame
Cause of Death: Burns

Ander, Host of the Earth
Cause of Death: Starvation

Rosalind, Host of the Winds
Cause of Death: Murder

Rose looked at the statue of her namesake, her mother’s closest friend. Her windswept hair curled around her face like snakes, her expression cold and lifeless. She looked determined. Protective. Rubies were set into the sockets of the statue, drops of blood on the otherwise colorless structure.
Rose observed the steps that let up to the fountain and trod closer to them, careful to avoid puddles of water and bugs that skittered around the uneven floor of the cavern. The river that rushed behind the fountain was faced by the statue of the host of the depths, his hands outstretched toward the river and holding a small box. Rose knew what that box had contained all those years ago. The Vestiges.
She shook her head to clear it and continued to quietly make her way up to the fountain. The water cascaded down the carved tiers of the centerpiece, foaming like milk in a latte where it pooled at the bottom. Oh what Rose would give for a latte right about then.
One of her shadows materialized next to her, “Oh, we’re back here again. Great.”
She turned to them, “You’ve been here before?”
They rolled their eyes as they checked their claw-like nails absentmindedly, “Oh obviously. I’ve been here many times. Your predecessors adored using me for my services as you do now.”
Rose wrinkled her nose, “Ah, I see.” She turned back to the fountain and ran her finger over the wet edge of the bottom tier. The water was frigid, and even with the slight touch she couldn’t help but shiver.
The specter bent down and whispered in her ear, “I don’t believe you should be here for very long.”
“Why not?” She asked, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Because I never liked this place. Reeks of do-gooders.”
“Haven’t you only ever served do-gooders?”
They shook their head, “No, I’ve served one destroyer, one plague among humanity. He was lovely, and the first of all of us, I will say. He was very pleasant when he wasn’t laying waste to villages and towns in the far countryside. Oh how I adored his scones that he would bake for us.”
Rose made a face, not sure what to do with this information, “Well, um, okay. He sounds nice, but you’re working for the good guys now.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” They said ominously, giggling at her reaction.
Rose just simply continued to look around the fountain, trying to conceal how much that comment dug into her skin. The doubt clawed at her mind and scratched at her thoughts. What if what she was doing was wrong? What would her mom say?

tripIe-A-battery

clutching shadows

by taylor

I made my way up the grand abbey’s winding dirt path to see Mara, or Daisy, standing outside the imposing entrance. We used to see each other all the time, but we haven’t talked nearly as much since she… became more distant, and decided that she would now be called Mara. I liked the name Daisy, I thought it really encompassed her as a person. But now, she has decided to change it, and I guess I have to respect that no matter how much I wish she hadn’t changed it. She doesn’t like to talk about it so I don’t press her. It’s nice to see her whenever I can, even if she is different to how I used to know her.

“Take a journey through this shrouded abbey, and discover the many mysteries as it takes you in its arms - come and join us to unravel the secrets lying hidden within the abbey’s ancient bounds,” gestured Mara, repeating her obviously rehearsed introduction with a mysterious, witchy expression loosely taped to her face. She reached both of her hands out to gesture inside the mansion.
“What’s with the rehearsed lines? Can’t you just write it on a sandwich board?” I jokingly asked.
“Well, the higher-ups think it adds to the experience. So I have no choice really,” she answered.
She seemed to now display a friendly expression like a pane of frosted glass. If I studied it, I could see through it and see the discomfort in her face.

At this point, I was not worried, but I wasn’t at ease either. Since Mara had changed, she had become more reserved, and seemed more dedicated to her job as an abbey tour guide. She only took one day off per week to come and see me at a café, where we would spend about an hour together. She’s recently started turning up late, and occasionally she doesn’t even show up. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a plain ‘sorry I couldn’t make it’ text. I don’t know what else she really does with her life, she seems like she’s sworn to secrecy as she never tells me many details. Today, she seemed more on-edge and wary than usual, but we all have good and bad days, so I wasn’t getting too worried about her yet.

‘Come and join us… come and join us…’ kept circling round and round in my head as I stepped through the ancient creaking doors. Was she captured as part of some kind of cult? I was most likely overthinking, she was probably just told to say that. She’s fine.
I didn’t see a single sliver of life anywhere inside. It’s always a little freaky walking around inside an abandoned abbey, especially one this large. You never know when someone could jump out at you, or suddenly grab you. That might be a me problem, though.

After I’d gotten a little more comfortable with the place and had been around a few of the rooms, we climbed up the ominous staircase, and came to a large hall with a singular long table placed in the middle. It had ornate, detailed paintings and sculptures of hands adorning the walls and shelves. An interesting style choice. Maybe it had some significance to the culture of the family that lived here.
“This was the room where our ancestors used to dine. They used to have parties every fortnight,” Mara commented solemnly.
“Um, alright… why are you saying it like that?” I questioned.
“Well, I’m not really meant to say, but I’ll make an exception because it’s you.”
“Ooh, I feel privileged!” I remarked, trying to brighten the mood. I was seeing her more than once a week, this was a big deal in my book.
“Before every one of their parties, they used to handpick one of their enemies, who often had done something so trivial as simply looking at the family the wrong way. They would invite this person as a guest, and then would make them do all of the cooking for the party, and force them to do multiple chores whilst the real guests enjoyed the party. They were sent to the basement at the end of the party, and… well, you can imagine. All I will say is they didn’t come back out of the basement. Rest assured, we have moved on from this tradition now. I try to avoid talking about this because, well, you know, it… puts people off coming here,” she uttered, with the same solemn expression, “also, you won’t tell anyone I said that, will you?” A delicate, fleeting glimpse of the real Daisy I used to know shone through with a beautiful glimmer, as she gazed up at me with her timid little eyes, like a child who had stolen the teacher’s pen.
“No, of course not,” I assured her, smiling and angling myself towards her, reaching to put my hand on her shoulder. I didn’t want to seem too forward, but I wanted her to know how I felt about her.
She half-backed away and locked herself up again. If only I could find the key to unlock her again. The beautiful, innocent glow had now faded from her character, and it was back to Mara. Had the temperature dropped?

As much as coming to these places freaks, me out, they interest me massively. I’d been meaning to do a little project on something like this for ages.
“By the way, do you know roughly when they used to do this? It’s just that I’m looking for a discontinued tradition to research for a proje-”
“No. We don’t know,” Mara interrupted, abruptly, averting her eyes from mine.
“Uhhh… we? I thought it was just you who did these tours? I didn’t think the higher-ups were involved in the actual tours?” I was getting more and more worried about her. She never spoke this abruptly to anyone that I know of. I started to wonder: was she being used or exploited for something? Was her boss nice to her?
“Oh, um, me and some, uh… historians and researchers. Yes, that’s it,” Mara stuttered, pointing upwards as she found her answer.
“Really? You sure?” I asked, trying to catch another glimpse of the real Daisy.
“Yes. Historians and researchers,” she affirmed, although I wasn’t buying it.

We had gone down a set of stately stairs, walked through another wide corridor, and passed by a conspicuous door. It was small, just tall enough to fit an average-height person through without having to bend too much, unlike many of the other grand doors in the abbey. But Mara didn’t even seem to notice it was there.
“Hey, Mara, what does this door lead to? It stood out to me,” I wondered.
“Oh, I’m not really sure. We haven’t been al-” She stopped herself before saying something, and then continued, “uh, we haven’t been in there yet. We can’t seem to find a key.”
“Hang on, come here! What is that odd, metallic, iron-like smell?” I asked, concerned. It didn’t smell safe, whatever it was.
“What smell? I’m not getting it,” Mara answered.
“Oh come on, Daisy!” I said, addressing her using her true name, “It’s really strong, how can you not smell it?! Do you think we should go inside and see if something dangerous is in there? It doesn’t smell right,” I continued, edging cautiously towards the door. I noted that it didn’t have a keyhole, so she was clearly making up the part about the key. She looked more and more uncomfortable as each second went by.
“Please do not call me that- and, uh, maybe you shouldn’t do that? I’m sure it’s fine!” she spluttered, sidling towards me and putting her palm up in front of me to make a stop signal.
“I really think something isn’t alright in there, I think I should go in, but who knows what it could be?” I contemplated, “Alright. Ok. I’ll go in and brave it,” I said as I swung open the door.

Hands.
They had not been there for long.
What she had described to me in the dining room instantly became one hundred times more vivid.
I stared in disbelief at the table.
It was as if they were moving, wriggling, trying to escape the cruel grasp of their captor.
I just stood and stared, stunned.

I heard the cacophony of the creaking floorboards as someone clattered down the hallways towards us.
“MARA! Whatever is going on!? You know you are not permitted in there!” announced the figure.
“Sorry ma’am. I was just conducting my duty. She opened the door,” Mara said, pointing at me.
The gnarled figure looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite make out.
“Now that was silly, wasn’t it?” the witch-looking woman said to me, mocking me, “It’s an awfully harrowing view in there, so we don’t let anyone in. Now, I want you to come with me. We’re having a bit of a get-together, a party if you will, upstairs and we think you’d fit RIGHT in.”
She whisked me up in a tight grasp. As I was being dragged into the shadows, Daisy took three steps forward, and stopped. We could not have been further apart.

Last edited by tripIe-A-battery (Nov. 19, 2023 22:26:02)

-WildClan-

This passage somehow perfectly encapsulates that feeling of devoting all your focus and energy into something, believing you’re making progress, telling yourself that it will work THIS time, sacrificing your time and your thoughts, only for it to still fall short in the end. I like that the introduction was an event that, chronologically, happened towards the end, and the passage then flashed back and described all the buildup to that scene. It ties into the “This was the day. The day it all ended. The day it would all begin.” concept you had going, because the “ending” was literally the beginning of this piece of writing. It begins where it ends. Except it doesn’t really “end,” because then there’s the scene written from Charlotte’s point of view that reveals that the machine didn’t actually work as intended. The introduction led me to believe that it WOULD work in the end, so when it becomes increasingly clear that it won’t and it didn’t, it is that much more impactful. I really liked that. Hester’s gradual character development throughout the part that showed her working on the machine was done very subtly, but very effectively. In the beginning, Hester thinks a lot about the concept and the process of inventing- how trial and error is an essential step to success, a step that is unavoidable because the not-knowing-yet is the whole purpose of trying something new. However, as she continues to fail, she then starts to tell herself that sometimes starting out small is the only option and the important part is that she’s trying and continuing to make progress. This way of thinking is almost identical, but it’s beginning to sound more like an excuse, especially since the progress was nowhere close to what she needed to send people as far as another planet. Continuing on, she has to instruct herself to not give up, to not waste time, and it is clear that she’s getting more desperate. By the time she teleports the mannequin, she has lost her sense of time, having spent so long doing nothing but work on the machine. She even goes so far as to wonder “Where was the door again?” when she goes to tell everyone else the news. This is likely as much from the deteriorated mental state a person gets when putting that much focus and losing that much sleep into soemthing as it was from the euphoric excitement

unhinged_musings

Bidaily Nov. 19th - 20th

I was a cookie on a tray in an oven, slowly baking to the desired crispiness. I was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path and beyond. I was the planet Mercury, staring directly into the sun as it burned my ashes with its unstoppable heat.
I was on a road trip to Arizona in July in a car with no air conditioning.
I leaned forward. “Is there any way to cool it down in here?” I complained, aimed at my mom, who was driving the car.
“I’ve told you a million times already, Ashley - there is not. Just be quiet and deal with it.”
“I’m dying,” I whined, flopping back into my seat. The air was actively strangling me with its moist, grubby hands.
“Well, I’m not the one who decided to buy a boat with our hard-earned savings instead of a much-needed car,” she retorted, flashing my dad a sharp glare.
“You’re the one who decided to have a vacation in Phoenix, Arizona!” he retorted. “And to drive to it!”
“We had to drive because we couldn’t afford plane tickets because you decided to make the incredibly practical purchase of buying a boat.” Mom’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I just haven’t managed to get the fishing business off the ground yet,” Dad muttered.
“You’ll never get it off the ground,” Mom said with a faint shake off her head.
“Hey, watch the road,” my brother, Sam exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. He constantly made remarks like that - he was borderline insane about safety.
“She is, Sam. You’re not the one with the license. She knows better than you,” I said.
“Listen to your sister, Sam,” Mom said. “She also knows better than you.”
Sam’s expression turned dark and stormy. “Why does no one care about safety in my family?” he murmured with arms crossed.
“You seem to care very little about the rampant heat levels in the car for someone so obsessed with safety,” I said. “Have you ever considered that I could get a heat stroke and die?” The last part of my statement was less so directed at Sam, and more so at my parents.
Sam’s mouth widened into an O, and his eyebrows scrunched together. “You’re right. Being in a car this hot is dangerous.” He slammed a hand onto Mom’s shoulder. “We need to stop this car!”
She gave a cut-off screech and swerved dangerously as she reached back to smack Sam. “Don’t do that! That’s actually dangerous!”
Dad frowned at him. “You could have made her crash the car.”
Sam melted down into his seat. “Sorry.”
Silence faded in after that, and lasted until I realized that I had to go to the bathroom.
“Are we coming up to a rest stop soon? I have to pee,” I said.
“We just passed the last one, you’re going to have to wait a bit,” Mom answered. “Can you wait a bit?”
“No,” I whined. “I need to go now.”
“Well, that sucks, because you’re going to have to wait. Unless you want to go in the bushes, that is.”
I huffed. “Maybe I will.”
“That’s not sanitary,” Sam remarked.
“I don’t care. I need to pee.”
Mom sighed. “You really want to go in the bushes?”
“Yes.”
The car pulled over to the side, screeching to a stop as its brakes failed to do their job properly.
“Alright. Get out.”
I opened the door, and stepped out into only more heat.
I hated Arizona.

Amethyst-animation

601 words

Woah! Awesome descriptions, realistic dialogue, I’m very impressed. However I haven’t heard of x-files before, and as a general reminder it might be good to include a few more fleeting flashbacks or backstory woven into the text, to create some context for judges who haven’t heard this before.

It didn’t help that her partner was wearing on both her ears and patience.

You don’t need the “on”, and removing it will make the sentence flow better.

By then, Mulder was already knocking on her door.

I would suggest not just introducing a character like this. Perhaps gradually show it, like:

The short lived peace of silence was soon shattered, however, as someone knocked sharply on the door.

And then introduce Mulder.

and trying not to look as tired as she felt.

Show, not tell. Perhaps talk about her fighting off another one of her pesky yawns, or blinking rapidly to keep herself awake. Maybe she grits her teeth. Anything that isn’t “trying not to look”. Although if you like the simplicity of the sentence, that makes perfect sense as well. After all, you are the writer!

“The plane leaves early tomorrow.”

Add something to how Scully is feeling. Is there a twinge of anxiety? Or does exhilaration chase itself like a puppy? Or is she drowned in terror?

Scully joined him, following his gaze.

Imagine you’ve been mysteriously dragged out to the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night, by a weird-acting friend, staring at a moon that doesn’t seem to have changed at all. And you’re in charge of looking for missing people, apparently. Unless she trusts Mulder completely, she should be feeling a little suspicious, perhaps she’s watching Mulder’s movements carefully. She shouldn’t blindly follow him, instead maybe she’s cautious, scanning her surroundings.

Even if darkness covered the moon from time to time, the shadow would just as surely pass.

Beautiful analogy, possibly my favourite sentence - definitely keep it!

After Samantha was taken, Scully realized, staring up at the vast darkness above their heads, the pinpricks of light breaking its surface, the shadowed moon.

After Samantha was taken… and then what? It’s not a complete thought, and it doesn’t lead to any epiphany. Perhaps you should explain her feelings a little more - is she worried about Samantha? I think this might also be a typo or an overlooked issue in the text.

they stood and left the field behind.

Feelings, feelings, feelings! Although you do have wonderful descriptions, I think it’s quite important for you to remember to add emotions, and how the character respondings depending on those emotions. For example, is she not feeling regretful that she's leaving such a wonderful moment?

he would not be more helpful.

Helpful isn’t the right word here. Perhaps the character should feel resigned, thinking about how he’s always ambiguous about things. Or is it very unusual? Maybe Scully is suspicious here.

She squinted at the white globe in the sky. It looked the same as always.

If Scully doesn’t know what “penumbral” means, perhaps she should try to sound it out in confusion, to show to the audience that she has no idea what that means. I’m sure most people wouldn’t either, so it would help the audience connect with Scully.

Sorry I couldn’t do a lot of feedback because a lot of it sounds just awesome to me, and I can’t really give feedback on ways to improve. Good luck with your comp entry <3

Last edited by Amethyst-animation (Nov. 20, 2023 07:28:28)

Novanuhea123

* wrote:
One day, as usual, while her parents were harvesting their crops, they found an unusual box. They call Isabella and give it to her.

It seems like that first sentence is in past tense, while the other is in present. You could change the last sentence to say, “They called Isabella and gave it to her.”

When Isabella opened the box, in it, she found a map which was leading to a place.

One of my favorite parts of writing is description, and it feels like you’re lacking in that aspect. You could try to describe Isabella’s confusion, and the excitement she feels at finding that map. You could change it to something like, “Isabella opened the box carefully, confused. It looked like there was a piece of paper in it. She lifted it out and gasped. It was a map, leading to somewhere unknown. Isabella grinned. She definitely wanted to investigate.”

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.

Once again, there are two different tenses playing out in each of them. The dialogue tags are in present tense, and the first two are in past tense. And when you say “Isabella whispers to Sophie”, you could add in an adverb, like ‘excitedly’ or ‘eagerly’ to show her excitement of discovering the map.

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.”

Instead of saying “Sophie is very eager to know the secret”, you could show how eager she is based on her behavior and dialogue. Maybe Sophie could be jumping up and down, or begging Isabella to tell her what it is. Showing emotions by using behavior and dialogue instead of just telling what their emotions really creates depth in your story and makes readers invested in it. And when you say “Isa says ‘I think, this map leads to a hidden treasure so would you like to join and help me”, ‘I think’ should not have a comma after it and there should be a question mark after ‘and help me’.

When Isa checks the map in her house, she spots a riddle on it and decides to tell Sophie about it.

This seems unnecessary, so I think you should delete it. Or, you could make it longer by using description, so it becomes a full paragraph.

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.”

After Isabella says the riddle, you could add something about their behavior. Maybe like, “They both were silent for a while, thinking about the riddle.” And, just so you know, dialogues always go underneath each other, not in the same line. Here’s an example from me:
“What do we do?” asks Emily.
“I don’t know,” replies Ava, concerned.
As you can see, one dialogue is above the other.

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.

Wow, this one really intrigued me. I love this part - you even got some adjectives and adverbs in there ( like“uncertain”) and you put in some action as well, like “Isa panics while Sophie replies”, so you can really feel what the characters are feeling! One thing - “Isa froze” is past tense, while the rest is in present tense.

Isa says, “I think it is something about us.” Sophie replies, “Yes, it might be a warning.” Isa agrees with Sophie.

Once again, dialogues go underneath each other. I also think you need to include pauses, saying that they both look confused or something like that.

This story idea is great, and this piece has a lot of potential. I like it - keep working! I can’t wait to see where you go with this!

ChueyTheCat

nov. 20 bidaily: like a pencil in need of sharpening, 566 words

It was a crisp, clear day, like a cold, juicy apple. Clouds drifted across the sky, enormous, fluffy sky-sheep gamboling across blue pastures. Leaves fluttered to the ground, a symphony of gold and crimson notes in a perfect autumn orchestra.
It looked exactly like any other lovely fall day, except maybe for the dinosaurs in top hats and bonnets crashing through the neighborhood like oversized lizards. Which is what they were.
Also except for the slimy green goop sliding down the streets, like foul swamp mud from the places nobody goes for good reasons. And, possibly, we might have to omit the cats walking on two legs in tuxedos and ball gowns, like an eighteenth century romance gone wrong.
It is very possible, in fact.
So possible that they shall be omitted immediately, and you must forget you ever heard of them, at once.
Have you forgotten? Good. Let us proceed, like a train hurtling towards the edge of a cliff and certain disaster.
The thing about stories, reader, is that they often leave you on a cliff, and this is nothing to be alarmed out.
There was a perfectly good reason for the oddities (which you have no doubt forgotten about, as you should) in town that day. Well, a mostly good reason. A logical reason. A sort of logical reason.
Yet as the narrator of the story, it is my duty not to lie.
There was not a good reason for the oddities. There was not a logical reason. But I did not wish to alarm you. Forgive my divergence from facts. I shall deliver only the cold, hard truth from here on forward.
And if I do not, you will never know, like a cup of tea will never know what it feels like to be coffee.
Let us proceed.
The strange creatures, and the sickly mud, were having a parade of sorts down the streets. And I, oh you most attentive reader, was marching behind. Well. Running behind, really. You see, I did not wish for any oddities in town. I wished the opposite, in truth–I wished them out.
A strange wish. I know. But things were getting messy, quickly, and I had to stop them.
The thing about stories (I do hope you will pardon the interruption, dearest reader, but this is quite important) is that they take you places. They always must, for otherwise, what is the point? No one would read a story that told them nothing and took them nowhere. It simply has no point, like a blunt needle, or a pencil in need of sharpening. There is no good reason to write a story with no point; it will not do anything for you but waste your time. No one, in their right mind, would board a train that simply stayed in the station for a few hours before everyone got off again. They would have been better off, reader, staying put where they were. Stories with no point are simply an empty waste of words, precious words. It is better, even, to be left hanging on a cliff than to read a story with no goal, no end in mind, and hanging from a cliff is no picnic, I can tell you. There is nowhere to put the picnic blanket, for starters.
But back to the dinosaurs and the goop and the cats invading the town–

(author's note: story intentionally left unfinished.)

smalltoe

deleted </3

Last edited by smalltoe (Nov. 22, 2023 06:11:57)

-WildClan-

critique 11-20-23

First off, my usual disclaimer: critiquing song lyrics is always a little difficult because I don’t know the exact melody or rhythm you had in mind when you were writing them, so apologies if I interpret something incorrectly as a result of that. :’D That being said, yes, I can see this being put to music! The pre-chorus in particular flows very nicely, and I can hear it in my head without even having to try all that much. It also provides a very smooth transition between the verses and the chorus. If this was set to music, I’d imagine the beat drop to happen right at the end of the pre-chorus, then it would start up again gradually throughout the chorus, as it rises from quiet and slow-paced to louder and sharper for the final lines of the chorus. It’s a little bit harder for me to picture the tune of the verses, especially since each verse has a different number of lines and no repeating syllable pattern. I did feel that the lines “so i just nod with a straight face wishing away i could fly / while mom finishing screaming herself almost hoarse” felt a little awkward due to having too many syllables, especially the latter line. You might want to rephrase that. Overall, I felt that the song successfully communicated the abusive situation that the speaker (and their siblings) are experiencing, as well as the speaker’s reactions and emotional responses. The title and theme of “walking on eggshells” is very fitting. I really liked how you concluded the song, with the speaker torn between their wish to escape and their concern for their siblings. It really summarizes how their situation has shaped their character into someone who is both very fearful and very protective and caring. I think you did a good job with this concept, and I’d love to see it if you ever did put it to music! ^^

Rey_venclaw

daily!!

“Weird…” Sirius mutters once he’s back in his human form. “It feels like I exploded and imploded at the same time.”
“…My brain is fighting with me over how to respond to that.”
“… Just respond multiple times.” Sirius sits cross-legged on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. The rest of us join him. We have probably fifteen minutes before Madam Pomfrey comes, best not to waste them.
“Okay,” I say. “One, how do you have any idea what exploding or imploding feels like? Two, is it a bad feeling? Do you regret doing it? Three, you never transformed before? How did you know you’d be able to?”
Sirius has this way he smiles and shakes his head and says “oh, Moony,” whenever I’m irrationally worried about something. He does this now.
“What?” I ask.
“One,” he says, “I don’t. I just have an active imagination. Two, no, of course not, not at all. Don’t worry about it. Three,” he points with his thumbs to James and Peter, who sit on either side of him,” these two both did it, but I wanted to wait.”
That’s… an interesting response. I don’t really know how to feel about that.
“You should get going,” I say instead of really responding. “Madam Pomfrey will be here any minute, don’t get caught.”
Sirius makes me feel like I exploded and imploded at the same time.

“How was the full moon for you?” Sirius asks that evening. “You kept asking all of us if we liked it, but the point was to make it better for you.”
I shake my head. And then I just keep doing it. “I… I don’t even know how to explain it. It was incredible.” I hold out my bare arms to him. “Look! I’m not bleeding at all, there isn’t even a single scratch.”
“That’s a good thing?” Sirius clarifies.
“What do you mean, is that a good thing? Usually I’m bloody after full moons, today I’m not. Usually I feel terrible after full moons, today I don’t. It’s definitely a good thing.”
“Good. Because I loved it too.”
“You did?” I sound so quiet, much quieter than I intended to be.
Sirius nods. “It’s so freeing,” he whispers.
I have and idea. I grab Sirius’ hand, pulling him up to standing. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re sneaking out.”
He doesn’t ask anything more, though I can tell he clearly wants to, as I snatch James’ cloak, pull it over us, and drag him all the way to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. I fold up the cloak and put it in the pocket of my robes.
“Okay, now transform.”
He does. It’s somewhat eerily beautiful to watch. I didn’t see it properly the first time, last night, because I was in the middle of my own transformation. And mine’s not at all pleasant.
Sirius as a dog is beautiful. (Sirius as a human is beautiful too, a tiny part of my brain tries to tell me) He looks just incredibly strong and regal.
“Run,” I tell him, and he does. I chase after him, feeling like laughing for joy but not, being as quiet as possible instead.
“How was that?” I ask when he transforms back.
He steps closer and closer to me until there’s only inches between us. “That was amazing.
Kissing Sirius feels like exploding and imploding at the same time.

-vanillamochabear-

bidaily 19/20 - i feel like this deserves a title but idk what :DD
it was as dark as midnight. which wouldn't have been concerning if it were actually midnight, and they were somewhere rural, perhaps. unfortunately, like everything else that had happened in flora's life, she was in the middle of a bustling city, known to be brightly lit 24/7. okay, so, maybe the power went out, no big deal. the cherry on top was that the sun had been in the sky approximately 3 minutes ago, and it was currently somewhere around 11 am.
flora and ellie were in the coffee shop when it happened. they had decided to meet up there for their lunch break. even though it always seemed to last a minute, it was better than nothing. they never saw each other otherwise, because their classes never seemed to cross paths. ellie had been wanting to tell her friend about everything that had happened since last week, like all the new couples, the incident, and the job she had recently landed as a wedding planner –
and that was basically the moment where the light decided to wander from the earth. no one knew why - theorists proposed that light had gotten tired of the sad, spherical orb, and they were not happy with the way humans twisted it into new things every generation or so. scientists suggested that they wouldn't find out why, ever. the planet would be gone before most of them reached their labs, and it would take far too long for the astrologist to dust off his telescope.
everyone in the shop was visibly startled. flora nearly spat out her coffee, and ellie was first to run to the window, an impressive feat. soon enough, everyone was crowded around the three glass panels, a few stumbling like children on roller skates. some tried turning on the flashlight on their phones, but quickly found that it didn't work. in fact, the screens didn't even produce any light, despite the fact that they were all charged. panic rapidly began to rise.
outside was a work of modern art. nothing could be seen except for a few shades of dark gray and black. there was a lot to be heard, however - the noises included whispers, talking, screaming, and violent crashes. it was a city, after all, which complicated things. there were, or had been, a lot of cars on the road, and all the ones that didn't pull over either crashed or were crashed into. the people in the coffee shop looked - no, listened - to the chaos in horror. they too began to chatter at levels which would've sent the lunch monitor to heaven. people who were scared of the dark hid in what they thought was a corner, and cried.
flora turned in the direction that she thought her friend was in.
“hey, how are you feeling about all of this?” she asked, since reading her friend's expression was as impossible as finding a needle in a house fire.
thankfully, ellie's voice came back to her, and not some random man's. “well, i don't know. i wasn't expecting it, for sure.”
“it's the end of the world! we're all gonna die!” shouted an old-ish woman.
“and there's that,” ellie added, “she voices my inner thoughts pretty well.”
flora glanced outside again. it hadn't been this dark, or colorless, since the dawn of time. there had always been a neon sign, a firefly, something. she tried to stay calm, but her thoughts seemed to be running at the speed of light. the noise around her began to crescendo–
and then it all stopped. she felt weightless for a brief second, like the summer wind before it gave in to autumn, or a feather that had started falling long ago.
“hello?” she whispered.
everything gradually faded away, just like it did for billions of others.***
the galaxy in her entirety had become her own midnight - lightless, lifeless, and empty. she rather liked it.

(***well, not for me. i'll just be floating around here until there's another story to narrate.)

ChueyTheCat

-Writing Comp Entry-
Title: Oops, I Exploded
Word count: 1370

I’m about to go on the greatest adventure of my life, and I am seriously regretting my life decisions.
Captain Grumpypants glares down her nose at me, and let me tell you, there’s plenty of nose to glare down. “So. All of our scouts out with a mysterious stomach bug on the day of The Mission? Except for you?” She narrows her eyes. “Coincidence? I think not.”
Captain Grumpypants is not, of course, her real name, but her real one isn’t nearly ridiculous enough to express my contempt for her and her rule-following scouts. Who follows the rules? Bo-ring.
Unfortunately, that’s what she expects me to do today. As her only remaining (functioning) scout, I am the one chosen for The Mission–finding the Sacred Keyboard of Fate and Time. Which is what I’ve been dreaming of ever since I learned about it–but, as usual, I didn’t think things through very well. Like, about how I was going to have to follow the rules for once.
I stand tall anyway and give her a crisp salute. “Purple Nerd Pancakes, reporting for duty. Ready to start The Mission, ma’am.”
Before you ask, no. My name isn’t really Purple Nerd Pancakes. But it sure is funny, and this is my autobiography. I can do whatever I want.
Which often involves eating chocolate while setting things on fire. But I digress.
Captain Grumpypants grunts, but then she sighs and nods back, handing me a badge with her official seal on it. “Fine. Get to work, scout.”
I pump my fist in the air in a way that’s extremely unprofessional, but she’s not done yet. “And, Purple? You are to find it and report back. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT interact with the artifact.” She levels another stern glare at me.
I nod and smile in a way that is totally, completely, innocently genuine, then race off to the Portal Room, flashing my badge at the attendants hovering around the door. They part for me, and I can feel the smile stretching my cheeks so wide it almost hurts. This. This is what I’ve been working for. Waiting for.
I find the right portal gate and hold the badge up to the scanner next to it. It beeps, and the gate turns on. It’s a tall circle made of metal, and when it’s turned on, the portal fills the circle with swirling purple light. I step through, bracing myself for the gut-wrenching, head-turning dizziness that always comes with portal travel. And then I’m stumbling into what looks like an ancient, abandoned house. The keyboard is hidden here? I was expecting something…flashier.
Whatever. My job is to locate the artifact, then report back so it can be safely retrieved, and of course I’ll do exactly that.
After testing it out to make sure it works, of course.
I pull my artifact-tracker from my belt. It’s the newest model, equipped with top-of-the-line artifact, mythical creature, and time rift detection.
I also programmed it to sense zombie cupcakes, but that’s another story.
I follow it to a room near the top of the house, up several rickety and structurally unsound staircases, and there it is, sitting on the floor. It looks like a standard laptop keyboard, except for the fact that there’s no screen attached, and boy, is it grimy. I sit down and almost reverently blow the dust off, pulling it into my lap.
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 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.”
Okay. They’re gone. That was kind of anticlimactic, honestly–at least for me. I’ve done stranger things than that. Like battle zombie cupcakes.
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. And as long as Grumpypants doesn’t get suspicious and send her minions after me.
I start typing again. “Make candies that taste like purple.” 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, despite what Captain Grumpypants says. I snicker–has she even tasted real grapes before?
Whatever. I shouldn’t be mean. At least, not any meaner than I already am–which isn’t much! I’m a nice person. An outstanding citizen. An…um, a nice person. Anyways. 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 Grumpypants assigned all of us for security measures. The kitten meows at me, almost accusingly, and I roll my eyes at it.
Okay…so it wasn’t so much “forgetting” as “purposefully ignoring it because 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 was the scout assigned to The Mission!
Of course…that was only because everyone else came down with the mysterious stomach bug that I had absolutely nothing to do with, but still.
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, I 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? I admire the pretty beta fish swimming around in the base before setting them aside.
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? Captain Grumpypants will lock it up in the vault the instant she gets her hands on it, and then I’ll never see it again. The thought is depressing. I need some comfort food. I type up a bowl of macaroni and cheese, but even as I pretend that nothing is wrong, burying my face in the cheesy steam, the keyboard is starting to rattle and shake, and my alarm is quickly spiraling into fear. I really should use the portal to jump back and make my report now.
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. I whap it over my knee, since I’ve heard that it works surprisingly often when dealing with malfunctioning hardware, but it scorches my fingers, and I drop it and 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 fulfilling all my dreams and wishes.

Rey_venclaw

daily!

pets, pests, best friends, eternal nightmares, what’s the difference, really?
it’s been years now, that we’ve lived alongside the dragons in harmony. or, that’s what our records say, at least. that’s the overall, objective opinion. that’s what history books will say about us. but the truth is, dragons are very, very annoying. as much as we love them, that’s not to say that they aren’t incredibly bothersome sometimes. they’ll spend a ridiculous amount of time just… chasing things. anything. sheep. rodents. other dragons. their own tails. you. their scales get everywhere. dragons don’t all shed, and the ones that do don’t do it all the time, but when the dragons that do shed are shedding, it’s a real mess. there’s scales everywhere. they eat a lot. i’d say a dragon eats as much in a day as a person eats in a week. and if they’re hungry, they’ll bother and bother and bother you until you feed them. you thought hungry dogs were bad? think again. and the things they eat, that’s another issue. dragons like to eat paper, for some reason. it’s possible to get them to realize that paper you’ve written on is off-limits, but it takes a lot of effort, and even then they still eat your blank paper. so one day you’

have a genius idea, the best of your life, one you’re sure will make you famous, and you’ll go to write it down. but, courtesy of your dragons, there’s no paper there. your once-in-a-lifetime idea gets lost to the void, never to be seen again.
don’t get me wrong, i love my dragon. she’s a wonder. she’s beautiful and colourful, she’s regal and strong, and there’s no experience truly like soaring through the clouds on the wings of a dragon. incredible. all i’m saying is that having a pet dragon isn’t all fun and games, being friends with a dragon isn’t all smooth sailing. there’s rough patches, annoying occurrences. major ones. what i think i’m saying, is that you should carefully consider every detail of the situation before getting a dragon. yep. that’s the moral of the story. i guess.
bye!

_Acosia_

City of Secrets: The Chronicles of Ashlyn, Chloe, and Maya by _-Acosia_-

In the heart of New York City, where skyscrapers reached for the clouds and the hustle and bustle of urban life echoed through the streets, our trio of adventurous 12-year-old girls, Ashlyn, Chloe, and Maya, found themselves drawn to a mysterious mansion tucked away in a quiet corner of Central Park. The city that never sleeps had its fair share of legends, and this mansion was rumored to be one of the most enigmatic.

On a crisp autumn day, the three friends, armed with their curiosity and a city map, embarked on their quest. The skyscrapers loomed over them as they navigated the bustling streets, eventually arriving at the entrance of Central Park. The contrast between the city's relentless energy and the park's serene atmosphere was palpable.

The mansion stood at the edge of a secluded area, its architecture a stark departure from the modern skyscrapers that surrounded it. Its gothic spires and ivy-covered walls seemed out of place against the backdrop of the city skyline. Undeterred, the girls pushed open the wrought-iron gates and stepped into the mansion's courtyard.

As they explored the eerie corridors and grand rooms, the city's distant hum faded, replaced by the creaking of floorboards and the occasional flutter of wings from pigeons nesting in forgotten corners. New York's iconic skyline seemed like a distant memory as the girls ventured deeper into the mansion's mysteries.

Chloe, the group's leader, led them through dimly lit hallways and up a grand staircase that seemed to spiral into darkness. The echoes of their laughter bounced off the walls, creating an otherworldly ambiance. In one of the rooms, they stumbled upon a dusty old map, its faded lines hinting at hidden passages within the mansion.

The map led them to a secret door behind a bookshelf, and with a sense of anticipation, they descended a narrow staircase. To their surprise, the staircase opened into an underground tunnel that wound its way beneath the city streets. The trio, undeterred by the unexpected turn of events, continued their journey.

As they emerged from the tunnel, they found themselves in an underground chamber adorned with glittering lights and echoes of a forgotten era. The chamber, a hidden gem beneath the city, revealed a breathtaking view of New York's iconic skyline from a unique perspective.

In the center of the chamber, the girls uncovered a collection of antique artifacts and a chest filled with old documents. It turned out that this underground space was a secret hideaway for a group of artists and intellectuals from the early 20th century, seeking refuge from the fast-paced city above.

Excitement filled the air as they unearthed the forgotten history of this clandestine community. The girls, realizing the significance of their discovery, documented their findings and shared them with the city's historical society.

News of their adventure spread, and the mansion became a hidden gem for urban explorers, a testament to the layers of history that New York City held beneath its surface. The tale of Ashlyn, Chloe, and Maya added another chapter to the city's rich narrative, blending the modern skyline with the echoes of a bygone era hidden within the heart of the metropolis.

booklover883322

6: Cabin Inspiration
Cabin Used: Myth
Word Count: 421/350
Date Completed (for me): 11/21/23
Time Completed (UTC): 8:11pm
Time Completed (MST): 1:11pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/
Slightly concerned for my situation, I looked around at the island I was stuck on. It was something out of a fairy tale, or at least a story that originated from a mythology of sorts. I ran my hands through the sand below me and relished in the silence that I was around. The waves lapped around my feet and my hair was ratted and full of the grains of sand that I laid on. I sighed and got to my feet. Palm trees swayed back and forth around me. I turned my head and looked back to where my ship was floundering in the waters. Oh my… what had happened? I tried my best to think back to the night before, but my mind only turned up shouts and and screams of my fellow sailors. Lightning. Waves. Saltwater up my nose. I tried to remember more, but I couldn't. It was all a blur, all a mystery. I hissed a curse as I started slowly putting together the pieces. Oh no, oh no, I couldn't even get back, could I? I had no way of getting back home, no way of returning to my family.
The sun beat down on my face and I hated that light. I hated the sand, hated the silence of the waves. I hated the feeling of the water that had trapped the rest of my friends in its belly. I glanced around before letting out a scream. I was alone, my friends were likely dead, and I had no way of getting back to my beloved sisters and brothers. I was alone for the rest of my life, and I couldn't change that, no matter how hard I tried. Or could I?
I decided for the time being that exploring would be the best idea for me. The island was full of palm trees, fruitless and daunting. If I were here under any other circumstances, I would've loved to have been there. The trees would've been fun to climb with my brothers. The coconuts would've made great food that I could've cracked open for my sisters. My father would've wanted to take me fishing, hunt the small and large animals that I was sure that lived there. I couldn't imagine those things ever happening now. Because they wouldn't, and I would die alone on this island. Alone and stranded. Would Mother still have hope of my return? Would my eldest brother search for me? I had no idea, and I would never find out.

WestEndLover15

bi-daily, 21.11.23

how do you describe aurelia? she’s like a flower - or, a rainbow. it’s like i’ve been living in black and white my whole life, but now all i see is colour. especially when i’m around her - blue, green, indigo. but most of all, she seems like she would be yellow. bright, playful, cheerful. aurelia is a midsummer sun, and i guess that would make me whatever she’s shined her warm rays on.

we met in chemistry, and of course she was top of the class, leaving me in second.
still, i didn’t care. normally i would’ve tried my hardest to outdo her, but like i said earlier - aurelia is the sun. there’s no way of hating her. unfortunately.

i never talk to anyone, really. if you went to my school you would know that. but then aurelia sat down, and i felt myself … well, sucked into her world, enchanted. she’s so bright, and bubbly, and, shiny? a mirrorball, almost. i’m not sure if this even makes any sense. there are so many ways to describe her; she’s the type of girl who should have songs and poems written about her. she seems like she’s veiled by these metaphors and flowery words.

sorry, i’m not usually like this. that’s what aurelia does to me, i guess. i like to keep to myself, study, and prepare for the future.

but with aurelia, it seems i’m caught in this moment, right now - and i can’t escape.

i can’t believe i’ve found someone like her. she probably doesn’t even remember my name, and i only see her for two periods a week, but still. i guess it’s comforting to know i’ll see her pretty freckled face every tuesday and thursday.
why am i acting like this? she’s just another girl in my chemistry class. why do i care so much?
no. she’s different - she’s thoughtful and immature at the same time. she’s kind and clownish. exciting but tiring.

i don’t know. heaven help me.

————————————————-

let’s face it. i’m unnaturally, unhealthily and strangely obsessed. If it isn’t with aurelia, i don’t want it. I’ve tried doing my favourite things, listening to my favourite music, but it just reminds me of how much i’m missing out. everything i want to do, i want to do with her.

and for once in my life, i don’t even care if she’s better than me. I want to take her ice skating, which, to be fair, i’m pretty terrible at - and i’m sure aurelia would be able to all of those spins and flips and pirouettes.

which is what she’s doing to my heart.
what do i sound like? some people are geniuses at all this sappy love stuff, but i would prefer to stick to numbers and calculations; thing i can figure out the definitive answer to. only now am i starting to see the beauty in starry questions and paint strokes. It’s like aurelia can do it all - top grades in chemistry, but i’ve seen the doodles her margins, lines of poetry scribbled onto the lined pages.

how can someone be so perfect yet down-to-earth at the same time? everything she does leaves me mesmerised. i wish i could be more like her - i wish i could be with her.

but i guess it’s just a wish.

Last edited by WestEndLover15 (Nov. 21, 2023 20:59:48)

Amethyst-animation

Unfair

“You don’t care?”
We’re sitting at the edge of the pool, our feet dangling into the cool water. The hot summer sun beats down on us, the tiles are scorching, and the sky is mercilessly clear. But I find no interest in jumping in.
Isla twiddles her thumbs, staring everywhere but at me.
A huge splash douses us, momentarily relieving me from heat. Screams of delight ring out. They’re applauding Scarlett for her somersault entry. 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 can’t control it. I remember when I dared her to not use hand signals for a few minutes; she lost immediately. I wish that we could go back to those uncomplicated, easy days.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I sigh frustratedly. “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. I hesitantly follow her in, treading water as well as a llama dunked in a pool can. Clinging onto the lane ropes, my fingers slipping precariously, I give her an exasperated look. That’s not what I’m trying to do.
A wave of unexpected fury slams into me. Of all people, I would expect Isla to stick up for me. I’m her first friend at this school. I’ve always been supportive of her.
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. Isla carefully averts her eyes. I wonder what would be in there if she faced me. Guilt? Shame? Fear?
After a few tense heartbeats, she finally looks at me. Infuriatingly, 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 history - “Erika, you’re wrong.”
There she goes again - acting like the pinnacle of moral excellence. It happens rarely but often enough.
“Tell me what part of what she said is fine to you.”

Prior to the swimming period, we had Arts. I made some decent origami with Chloe. 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. “Huh,” 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 bad.”
Isla watched as Chloe laughed. I’m not sure why she did it, but I notice my friends are always indulgent to Audrey.

But Isla just 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 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?”
“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 annoyingly 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 amongst 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. I’ve been believing in a blind, 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 remember when Emma helped me revise for a Maths exam last minute. I remember when Layla comforted me when no one else did. I remember when I had no money at school, they put their coins together to pay for lunch for me.
The aggressive spikes surrounding my heart slink away as they engage in cheerful chatter with me.
“Are you alright, Erika?” Layla asks, pausing. Even with my attempted smile, 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? Someone’s noticed I'm acting odd, and someone actually cares. I sweep her up in a bear hug. 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 there’s another thing that’s been missing; someone’s paying attention. I try to recap what’s going on, and by the end of it both of them look gobsmacked.
“What- and Chloe’s not doing anything?” whispers Emma
Shaking my head sadly, I expect them to drop into brooding disappointment. Bad news takes my friend group by the storm; they’ll become 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?”
Layla laughs as though it’s not a big deal. “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.
They linger around as I grab my maths book instead of running off.

Of course the seating plan sits me next to Audrey and Isla. I attempt to be 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 way to say friends,” I mumble under my breath. Just ignore…
I swear Audrey has super-hearing or something because she’s glaring daggers at me.
“…You good?” I ask.
“No, I’m not good!” 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.
The class drags on and it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore Audrey’s taunts. Eventually I can’t take it anymore and slam headphones over 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.
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’s brows are furrowed. “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. I try to remember the last time I got a chuckle instead of a scathing insult.
We 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 pretend to wave and they giggle again.
“OK, well, 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.” She sweeps 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.”
“But you don’t have to do this,” Layla quickly interjects. “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, guys,” I say. My voice is getting a little thick, so I take a deep breath and stride up to Audrey. “Uh, Audrey, can I talk to you?”
She turns around with a groan. “Fine. Make it quick.”
I beckon for her to move away from the group. Don’t yell. “I’ve just… noticed you’ve been really rude recently.”
“What?!” She looks at me, a little too innocent. “When?”
Keep calm. “At Maths, Swimming, Arts… do I need to go on?”
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. “Look, it just hurts, OK? Imagine someone being like this to you.” And with that, I stride off towards Layla and Emma. They’re watching me anxiously from the shade of a tree. I feel a little lighter.
“Did it go well?” asks Layla, worried.
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 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.”

Author wrote:
This is based off of my actual situation with friends right now, so this was very hard for me to write. However I have changed the names of the people (except for me) for the sake of their privacy. Huge thank you to Stormclaw1875, cinammcnx and criminal-intent for their awesome feedback! Thank you for reading ^^

1970 words - including Author's note

ChueyTheCat

nov. 21: mirrors, 450 words. based on dystopian's storyline (we love you dystopian <3)

Reality has been broken.
You are drifting in a sea of nightmares, mist swirling and coalescing into vague, uncertain shapes before breaking apart again in a wave of gray fog.
Something shatters, a sharp, tinkly sound, like a thousand dying bells, and then the mist is pulling apart to reveal shiny surfaces. Mirrors, hundreds of them. You see your wide eyes reflected in the silver depths for a moment, and then you’re falling. You land with a muffled thud, and something crunched beneath your feet. When you look down, you see that the ground is covered in a thick layer of glass shards, but none of them are reflecting your face. Instead, they’re filled with the same thick mist. You pick one up to examine it, wincing as you accidentally cut yourself on the sharp edges. You gingerly hold it up to your face, peering at the foggy surface. Something is moving, beyond the mist, something dark and shadowy…
A voice cuts through your thoughts. “Drop the glass!” Startled, you comply, releasing the shard. It falls back to the ground with a clink. The mist–the real mist, not the reflected mist–is moving, forming into three shapes. One holds out a hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that the mirrors here can’t be trusted. The things they reflect weren’t meant to be seen. By you, at least.” She grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, but you flinch back, and she drops it. “Sorry again. I keep forgetting…”
She trails off and doesn’t continue, and one of her companions picks up where she left off. “It’s difficult, here, to stay in your right mind. The mirrors are full of lies and trickery, and it can be hard to keep from losing yourself in them. Contact with real, living things helps focus our minds on reality.”
You raise a skeptical eyebrow, but you don’t push the matter, gesturing around you instead. “Where am I? What is this place?”
The third figure, the one who hasn’t spoken yet, steps forward. “This is the mirrorverse,” she says. Her voice is soft but bitter. “It’s where…”
But she’s cut off by the sound of glass shattering. You heard a sound like it just a few minutes–seconds? Time is funny here–ago, right before you started to fall.
Her eyes widen, and her companions pull you forward, even as you resist. “Come on, there’s no time to waste. We need to get you to safety.”
You don’t know if you can trust them or not, but glass is crunching behind you, and you’re really not interested in meeting whatever else lives in this place.
You follow them and don’t dare to look back.

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