layla
she/her
i'm in Dystopian but honestly i gotta say that i love fantasy a lot more. My favorite musicals are Hamilton, Six, and Mean girls.(This is also my first session so I may need some help getting around things) My goals are to try to get to 5000 words and to also try asking for help (i'm a teenager but I have to ask for help or ask how to do some things yay T^T) but i also hope to make some good memories

i got here too late TT_TT but no matter <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Churro's writing portfolio *ੈ✩‧₊˚

๋࣭⭑ Dailies (dont expect me to write every day lolum)
01. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
02. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
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05. word wars yay
06. missed it
07. missed it
08. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
09. CABIN WARSS
10. Went on a road trip
11. (ACTUALLY GOT INTERNET WUTT) ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
12. Missing so many dailies lol
13. got internet again ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
14. At least I got Pockey
15. im back yay
16. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆.
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20. took a bit of a break from doing dailies lolum please ignore this huge gap ^^
21. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆.
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27.
28. great im sick now
29.took a big break from dailies xD
30. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
31.

๋࣭⭑ Weeklies (might miss some but whatever ToT)
01. missed it lolum because it didnt save
02. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆
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04.

๋࣭⭑ Miscellaneous (if i ever get over writer's block)
01.

๋࣭⭑ Writing Competition (if i ever get over writer's block x2)
01. HOLD UP I WROTE SOMETHING WUTT??




bring me churros lol

Churro's Dailies No. 1- 2/29/2024
Im Churro, a chaotic sort of depressed bean who's only participated in swc for one session and loved it although i only did two weeklies and probably about half of the dailies but we don't talk about that. i don't have many goals, except for write more (bc i've been on a verrrrry long writer's block and the last thing i wrote was like last year *dies*), be more confident in my writing, and just improve. like in general. lolum
another goal i have for swc is to be more active. last session i was really confused and asked too many dumb questions. this time i'll be better i promise!!! i understand some things now so yayy
i will also try to write more dailies/weeklies and interact/get to know my fellow cabin mates
aah last session was actually so fun!! i got a comment screenshotted into the memory book thanks y'all <3 and won an honorable mention in the writing comp and that was my first swc session ever help what did i do to deserve that ToT
anyways i'll try not to stress and just have fun which i know i will <3
SCIFI FOR THE WIN YEAH >: D

┊┊┊┊⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧　✵ »»————-　★Mystic's SWC writing thread★　————-«
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(\__/)
(>'.'<)
(“)_(”) Cabin- Mythology

Daily No.1 01.03.2024
Hi!!! I'm mystic she/her! It's my first ever SWC session, so I'm really excited to get to know all of you!
My favourite authors are (in no particular order) Rick Riordan, Alex Bell, Jessica Townsend, Suzanne
Collins (there's more that i can't think of right now) I'm very interested in plants and fungi, and really want a
venus flytrap (they're so cutee!!) My hobbies are crochet, art, craft stuff and writing! My goal for this
SWC session is to just improve with my writing because, as much as I love writing, I'm also very bad
at it. I used to write a lot, I had this sparkly notebook I would put ideas inside, but eventually I kind off
forgot about it, I have an active imagination and I come up with stories easily, however I struggle writing
them down and soon and the story is out of my mind, and I can't remember it even when I try. I'm also
bad at phrasing things so I'm really really sorry if any of my comments make you feel bad or uncomfortable.
Also, this SWC session, I want to make loads of new friends and have fun!
My favourite books are definitely PJO, HOO and TOA- I've read (nearly) all of Rick Riordan's books, except for
The Percy Jackson and kane chronicles crossovers, The last book of magnus chase, and the books that he wrote
before starting PJO.
I think that's it, See you in tomorrow's daily!!
-Mystic


Daily No.2 02.03.2024
You're the most unique person I've ever met
Alex was in a bad mood. When her mother had suggested taking her to the art club in the museum, she was listening to music and had just nodded half-heartedly, think it was about her history homework, which, by the way, she still hadn't started. But it looked like her mother had taken her nodding seriously, and now Alex stood outside the art gallery looking at posters with smiley faces saying ‘Join the art club!’ She sighed. ‘Mom do I have to?’ Alex moaned, even though she knew it was useless. ‘Enough of this Alex, I’m sure you'll have fun and make friends' her mother answered looking at a museum guide and trying to figure out which door to enter. Alex groaned inwardly. All grown ups were the same. Why would she want to have fun and make friends? After walking around the museum a few (hundred) times her mom finally decided that the correct entrance was through the east gate and they entered the building, dripping wet from the unexpected rain. A wrinkled old lady was standing near the entrance, brandishing cookies and a petition for something boring. ‘Oh hi Fiona!’ Alex's mother said seeing the lady. ‘Alex this is Fiona, she’s the one leading the art club. Say hi!' Alex scrunched up her hands into fists and shoved them into her pockets. ‘Hello.’ she said. Fiona smiled at her. .'Welcome to the art club Alex, I hope you enjoy coming here! Go inside, I have to talk to your mother about the library closing, we have a petition to make. Emma can you please sign this….' Alex had zoned out but one word brought her back to earth with a thud. What did that old lady mean ‘coming’?!? I'm not coming here on a regular basis it's just for today! She stood awkwardly near the entrance, noting all the exits. So far she had found only two: the entrance and a small door that said ‘Art supplies, staff only’, there was also a suspiciously ginormous painting that looked like it could be concealing an entrance to a secret passage or a large crack… the windows were ok too, but they looked as if they hadn't been opened in a long while…. when a smiling lady with a clipboard came over to her. ‘Hi would you like to come over to the rest of the group? You’re Alex aren't you?' Alex clenched her fists harder and nodded, resisting the urge to run out of the door. The smiley lady led her to a group of kids- perhaps they also were forced to come, but they all looked happy to be there. A girl wearing a paint splattered denim overall that was embroidered with rainbows, unicorns and paintbrushes waved at Alex. Alex waved back, hoping that her body language told the girl to leave her alone. Apparently it didn't though, and the girl walked over and introduce herself. ‘Hi!!!!! I’m Sophie what's your name?'
'Alex.' ‘Cool!!!!! Are you new here?’ Alex nodded feeling a bit embarrassed when the smiley lady tapped the desk for attention. ‘Hello everybody, today
let’s paint or draw a scenery of something you love. But, it has to be connected to nature. So if you like hedgehogs, you could draw hedgehogs. If you like flowers, you could draw flowers. You can pair up with someone or do it by yourself.' Alex scowled. It wasn't that she hated art- no quite the opposite, Alex adored painting and drawing and her bedroom walls at home were covered with paintings. The things she didn't like though were people. And typically an art club had people in it. In fact any club had people in it. The definition of a club is ‘a group of people’ not bananas or something like that. ‘hey can we pair up?’ Sophie asked. ‘No!’ Alex snapped, louder than she meant to. Seeing the hurt on the Sophie's face she mumbled ‘uh I’m sorry' ‘No it’s fine.' Sophie said in a tight voice, trying not to sound too hurt. ‘If-if-if you don’t want to I can pair up with Nathan instead.' Alex bit her lip as she saw the girl walk over to a boy- Nathan- and asked him if they could pair up. She had already upset someone in her first two minutes in this place. She felt really guilty and something made her go over to Sophie. ‘hey I’m really sorry if that upset you, I-i-i really didn't mean to…' Sophie shrugged. ‘It’s fine I guess' Alex still felt guilty but she had apologized and she didn't know what else to do, so she walked over to the only spare easel- which was next to Sophie- and thought about what to draw. The smiley lady lit some candles to help their ‘imagination flourish’ and put some potted plants on the tables An idea flew across Alex's mind and she started sketching out outlines, while muttering facts to herself to help calm down- the room was full, with the kids making animal masks, the teens painting nature scenery, the grown ups sketching flowers and talk in low, urgent voices and glancing worriedly around the room, old ladies sipping tea and colouring in mandala patterns- and it was very hot. ‘A pitcher plant takes two to three days to digest it’s prey' she muttered, drawing spiky, poisonous and carnivorous plants. ‘Belladonna, also known as the deadly nightshade is both a poisonous and a medicinal plant, sometimes used as a natural pain killer.’ Alex said while painting it's white flowers and shiny black berries. ‘Holly berries can make you feel dizzy and nauseous.’ Dipping her paintbrush into the murky water, Alex noticed Sophie staring at her and frowning. ‘Most edible mushrooms have a poisonous twin that looks nearly the same.’ Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and Alex started to wish she wasn't wearing her hoodie. ‘If you cut a mushroom and the inside is blue, drop it. The mushroom is poisonous.’ she picked up a pencil and started colouring in. As Alex reached down to pick up a green pencil to colour in her Venus flytrap she toppled over one of the candles and the flames started spreading. Alex froze in fear. She tried to yell for help but when she opened her mouth, thick black some poured in. making her cough again and again. Everybody had ran out of the building, and only Alex was inside. And she was going to die. Only Alex inside. But wait.. a figure was moving through the smoke, towards her. It - no, She Alex realised, She was moving towards Alex. Sophie. Sophie grabbed the huge bucket of water they all used to dip paintbrushes in and flung it towards the smoke. She grabbed Alex's arm and together they ran out of the building, slamming the entrance doors shut. Fiona and the smiley lady asked if they were ok, and gave them hot tea. Everyone had seen that it was an accident so Alex wasn't expelled from the art club, and the fire didn't spread to other rooms of the museum, so everything was fine. ‘You could have died!’ both Sophie and Alex said at the same time. They smiled. ‘Thanks for coming back for me.’ Alex said. ‘How could have I not comeback?’ Sophie asked ‘You are the most unique person I’ve ever met and umm would you like to be friends?' Alex blushed with pleasure. ‘Thank you!’ ‘Friends?’ Sophie asked again. ‘Friends!’ replied Alex and then they both burst out laughing.

Daily No.3 03.03.2024 was unfortunately missed because of unexpected IRL stuff.

Daily No.4 04.03.2024
Dice Rolled- 2 (present tense)
Dice rolled-4 (second person pov)
This could be a great opportunity to write down the story that's been swirling around in my mind for a while before it disappears ^^

You open your eyes, shrugging of the sweet dreams that have been clinging on to you, and forcing yourself into the harsh layer of reality. Blinking you realise you have no idea who you are, where you are, and how you've got there. The only thing that you remember is a swaying motion of a boat, and someone screaming. Then your lungs filled with salt water and now you woke up. Where you dead, before you could even remember your first life? You pinch your arm hard so that your nails leave a small dent in your skin. No. That felt real enough. You're alive. Gingerly, you stand up, feeling gritty sand beneath your barefoot feet. The sun shines hard and trickles of sweat roll down your face, neck, and arms. Your mouth is parched and you feel dizzy. Water you think. You need water. The sea waves lap gently against the shore, tempting you to drink. You take one step closer, then another. No! Snap out of it! You sternly tell yourself. Sea water is salty. Salt water is bad. That much, at least you know. But.. there's no other source. There are coconut palms growing next to you but the coconuts are to high up, and the ones that have fallen, are cracked, the sweet flesh and milk inside rotten. Suddenly your eyes lit up with an idea! Surely, where there is land, there must be people? Surely there was at least a town here! You could ask the people for directions, food and water. Energized by the thought of this, you clamber up some rocks nearby, giving you a bird's eye vision of the land. Your shoulders slump and you feel dull and tired again. Though you know it's useless, you sweep another look at the land, searching for civilisation. On the right of you is a small forest, on the side of the forest a rocky beach and sea. Sea. A glittering mass of water, that could be your way of escape from this place. But you do not know how to swim, and even if you did, it would be foolish to swim. The water lapping and the sand, is just the sea lazily flicking it's fingers. There were treacherous tides and currents, that could grab you and bang you against the rocks, water churning with white foam, red blood dyeing the sea temporarily. You are surrounded by sea. No escape. You sigh and you know in the heart that this will be the last place you will ever be to, the last place you will ever see.

Daily No.5 05.03.2024
Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.
If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. Hi I'm Percy Jackson and- What do you mean you can't see me? Oh wait- didn't I mention, I'm a dolphin now? Well yeah I am. I was cursed by Dionysus because he returned to camp three seconds after leaving and found me there- well how was I supposed to leave camp in three seconds? I'm not a god for gods' sakes I'm a demigod! Anyway, he turned me into a dolphin and here I am, at the bottom of the sea near Long Island. In some ways, being a dolphin isn't that bad. I can be in the water all day, and do thousands of underwater somersaults which is pretty fun. I've even rescued a dolphin who was tangled in a net. His name is Alex, and all he's done so far is moan and say that he can blow better bubbles than me. Well I blew as many bubbles as I could and proved him wrong. Something about his grumpiness seemed familiar. ‘Hey Alex’ I asked. ‘mhm’ ‘Are you by any chance a half blood?’ ‘Well duh!’ Alex rolled his eyes which was pretty impressive and I didn't know dolphins could do that. Apparently Dionysus has disliked a lot of campers before me.

Hi! I'm really sorry the quality of today's daily is a bit well- rubbish, I had written a better one, however, I accidently deleted it, so I rushed writing this one. Don't worry though, the quality of tomorrow's daily will be much better. I hope.

Weekly One: Missed *sigh* next session will be better I promise
All the dailies since I last did a daily: also missed

Daily 3/1, 1k intro (1,000 words exactly)
Hi, I’m Surf! This is my second session of SWC and I am pretty excited for it! I don’t think I’ll manage to beat my word count from November, as I also did NaNo that month and had over 50 k in total :’) , but sci-fi for the winnnnn!

I’m working on a couple things at the moment, in terms of writing. I have a pretty bad habit of getting very excited and into a story idea when I start it, though I lose passion for it later on and end up never finishing it, to my dismay. That’s something I am definitely working on to improve my writing both this year and this session. Sometimes I also get too caught up in the idea that I forget to sort out some technicalities in the writing, leading to storyline collapse, though this happens a lot less often. This session, I want to revisit some old ideas and keep working on them, probably re-writing most of it. I need to work on plot, as I’m pretty good at worldbuilding but struggle when figuring out exactly what characters are going to do in the story. I like to write in first person, present tense though I’ve also written in third person and past tense, though I feel like that is less enjoyable to write in personally. There’s also a couple local writing contests in March that I believe I am going to enter, which is exciting, and I’m glad they line up with this session.

My favorite author is Brandon Sanderson, and I like a lot of his work! Probably the thing I like the most about his writing style is the word building, as well as character development and perspective. My favorite series of his would probably be either Mistborn Era 1 or Era 2, or even the Stormlight Archives, and I do his book Skyward (though I don’t like the rest of that series as much on a whole). I also love the Aurora Cycle series, which I highly recommend to anyone reading this! It’s a good sci-fi that has excellent character building and is an entertaining read.

If you haven’t guessed, I’m an avid reader–I can read reallllllly quickly. This kind of presents a challenge to find reading content, occasionally, so if you have any recommendations, let me know! I usually read sci-fi (my favorite genre), fantasy, or some form of fiction, though I don’t mind realistic fiction and have been recently reading a lot of historical fiction. I enjoy Agatha Christie novels as well as the Sherlock Holmes books, but I don’t read nearly enough classical or nonfiction. In school, though, we recently read Warrior Woman, which is interesting with its mix of memoir and fantasy. Right now, Emma is sitting partially unread on my desk (as it has for months now, I think since before last session) and I have yet to start the Count of Monte Cristo (though I am excited to start the latter). I recently read the Red Queen series, and while I liked the first book, it quickly deteriorated. I’m in progress for the Shatter Me series, and I also think it is deteriorating quite a bit, though I do think the style is interesting.

I play tennis a lot, and in gym right now at school we’re playing pickleball and badminton, which is nice because it’s all racket sports so I’m not bad. It’s better than playing the hybrid basketball-soccer we did last—gym teachers run out of ideas very often.

I enjoy baking!! Some of my favorite things to make are muffins and cakes, as well as cookies. Recently I made a delicious lemon Bundt cake, and around the holidays I made homemade peppermint oreos along with lots of other cookies and some chocolates! Chocolates are fun to make—I melt the bar under a double boiler, add some ingredients, and then pour it into a mold—I have a cool Harry Potter themed mold and a Lego block one from ages ago, and I like making smores or peppermint chocolate. Not only is baking (usually) delicious, it's also fun and a bit like an experiment. I like to try substitutions/altering recipes and new recipes with different flavors! I have yet to learn how to make a layer cake, macarons, or puddings, which are all on my list. I want to get better at cooking too, though I very much enjoy sugar so I stick to the baking side.

I also want to get better at coding—I know a decent amount of Python but want to learn Java, which I’m planning on working on this summer. I prefer applicable coding than learning the concepts and hope to take a computer science course next school year (and also a creative writing course that sounds really fun!!!).

I like art and journaling—usually digital art or just sketches, though I want to branch out and do more acrylic and painting. I have yet to do my March setup for my bullet journal, and have to figure out what theme I want to do. Maybe some sort of leaves, plants, or succulents? I will have to search a few up and brainstorm tonight.

Also—pretty unrelated but I do like colors and their names. Like sable is such a cool name, and I love amber, aegean, and vermillion! I end up spending a lot of time while writing finding the perfect name of the color in my descriptions hehe, which might not be a good use of my time (so I’ll just have to get quicker at it xD). I tend to use different words (British/American) for different things, for example, grey is a COMPLETELY different color than gray. And I don’t understand how people spell zeroes as “zeros” which kind of sounds like a good character name, honestly. Language is pretty interesting and I’d like to learn more about it, though I have yet to find the time to do so.

Farewell and thanks for reading,
Surf!

{ swc classics, second weekly
0/1200 words
0/5 images
part 1: flowers
216/300 words
For this part of the weekly, write a story of at least 300 words, weaving flower symbolism into the plot or theme.

To: Ms. Lily Evans
From: Severus
Dearest Lily,
I am writing to you in the gravest of circumstances. Mother and Father are to be going on summer holiday and I am to stay here in Cokeworth. Although we have quite the place here on Spinner's End, it will get lonely- save our house elf. I expect I'll be in my room, pretending I don't exist and writing to you, Lily.

I suppose you might be catching on. Would you please come by? Just this once? It's rather nice here on these summers, promise. Think of how lonely your boy may get. We might get around to some of the games you like.

With a shower of indian pink,
~ Severus

To: Severus
From: Lily
Severus, you dramatic prince-
Well, I suppose yes. Mother and father said so, and you're welcome to come by as well. Keep my owl Niko for a while to keep you company until you get here,
Signed with ambrosia,
Lily


To: Lily
From: Severus
So kind of your parents, Lily. Do send my sunflowers to Mr and Mrs Evans.
I am so graciously in your debt, Miss Evans. I shall off and go tomorrow.
With pansies until the day,
~ Severus

To: Severus
From: Lily
I will. I expect you tomorrow, Sev. Periwinkles!

These letters are the copies of the originals passed between Severus S. Snape and Lily M. Evans during the summer of 1971.

part 2: constellations
0/300 words
For this weekly part, write 300 words of either a fiction or non-fiction piece based on how your favorite constellation came to be.

part 3: aesthetics
5 images
Choose one of your pieces from the previous sections and create an aesthetic set that represents the theme or motif that you have selected. your set should contain at least five different images, chosen in reference to your selected piece. of course, the photographs you use do not need to be original, just be sure to give credit if the images aren’t yours! once you’re done, share your aesthetic as a project and submit the link alongside the rest of your weekly.

part 4: swc fanfiction
0/600 words
Take the motif of the flower you chose earlier in this weekly or the meaning of the constellation and use that in your fanfiction, which can be about anything, from creating chaos in the main cabin to exploring your cabin's storyline with your cabinmates! You can have volunteers in your fanfic or just yourself–anything goes as long as it's at least 600 words!

{ march 15, critique for vi
494 words
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7856681/

{ march 12, word war
241 words
Crazy how time can take you places. Crazy, crazy, crazy-
I woke from my fever from the smoke, panting up the staircase, almost forgetting why I was there in the first place. Why? I don't know. Rather, I knew I had to keep going. Spiraling up the cold concrete floors, I climbed the ever so tilting staircase. It was almost like it was made to be an illusion. Keeping outsiders out, the in, in.
Crazy how time can take you places.
Was is this minute number two? I couldn't tell. Barely. Was that smoke?
Crazy.
I swear something was tugging on my shirt, pulling me backwards. Beads of sweat poured through. How many hours has it been since I last saw Time? Then again, maybe this was all a dream. Am I awake? I pinched myself, screeching from the cold piercing pinch. I was sure I was awake. I mean, if I felt that. Or was it the pinch of time? I was in a pinch.
Pickles, the smoke.
Crazy how time can take you places.
If my life is just pages, these pages smell like smoke. And I hate it.
I heard laughter awaiting for me. Above the ladder maybe. I climbed it, knowing I had to go. Resisting the urge to turn back. I knew it. I was here.
Time laughed. “Crazy how time can take you places.”
This was death. I was heading for the trap of time.

{ march 11, daily
265/200 words
I'd love the following to be changed: more opportunities to be out there, acceptance widening, and peace be commonplace. Now those are big, worldly changes. Some changes I want made closer to my life are stability, I want to pray more, become more independent, more trustworthy, and get rid of my own trust issues. Now, hem, the story. Based on a true one.

“You okay?”
I was curled up on the ledge in the back of the band room, arms over my head, head in my knees. I didn't hear him, naturally. A lot had just happened in the last twenty-four hours. Too much too swallow, too little to understand. But I'm fifteen, I should be able to deal with this. Why can't I just suck it up and smile today?
“Are you okay?”
I look up to my friend, head cocked and fixing an instrument. My throat seems stuck and my eyes well up, but I blinked it back, carefully nodding my head yes so my hair falls over my face.
My friend looks down in pity. He asks slowly, “Are you suuuure?”
I blink once slowly, nodding again and giving a small smile. He seems to get it and sometime after trudges away.
I'm left to my own thoughts. Did I really just get the brunt of it in the car, my sibling hearing it too, plus the whole day of stress before. The weeks of not being sure if I'll be getting split in half, as if being unborn, my pairs of chromosomes dividing back? The uncertainty of it all, the weighing, never-ending circus of being led one way and being pulled the next. Will it ever end?
The sound of slide whistle adds a comical feel to my question. Looking up again, my friend is peering at me unsure as he walks past slowly. He squints my way and I know he's trying to cheer me up. My smile never ceases to ring through.

{ march 7, daily
15/0 words
three word stories

{ legends, first weekly
312/1200 words
section 1: retelling, mythology
312/200 words
Author's Note: This is a retelling of the story of Icarus and Daedalus, the famed flying humans in Greek mythology. The line, “Don't fly too close to the sun,” is critical here, but as I am retelling the story, I am putting my own spin on it: What if Icarus and Daedalus flew by night?

“Dad, I'm not sure I can do this,” a boy said, shaking near the open windowsill.
“Don't be afraid, young Icarus. If you have faith, you will,” old Daedalus the inventor told his son, laying his hands on his shoulders.
On the highest floor of a tallest tower in Crete, Icarus and Daedalus stood by their window lit by the moonlight that was outside. Not looking down wasn't an option, and both father and son knew the dangers of their flight. For on each of their backs was a set of wings, carefully waxed on the arms. The wings were made of bird's feathers, plucked in secret every day since their capture.
“Look at the sea, father,” Icarus shook. “The waves are crashing so.”
“We must be brave, young one,” Daedalus said. “Look among the stars. Ask the gods for their mercy on us, pray.”
A moment of silence commenced, followed by a pat on the shoulder.
“Best be going, before daylight,” Daedalus said. “I'll go first, and trust you will follow.”
“Yes, father.”
“Right,” Daedalus hesitated. “Off we go.”
The inventor stood on the window ledge, spread his wings, and dropped ungracefully.
“…Father?” Icarus raced to the ledge, looking over. “D-Dad?”
Silence. Nothing but a whoosh, and-
“Yippeee!” Daedalus's cry was heard as he flapped his way forward. “I feel young again!”
Icarus smiled. “My turn!”
“Yes, Icarus! Follow before the guards notice!”
Icarus spread his wings and flew.
The two of them flew into the moonlit sky, to be known alive and well years ahead.

section 2: historical figures in modern times, historical fiction
243/200 words
What in the hell did I just write-

“Now, the invention of Beet Haven's new app!”
Claps. Applause. Laughter.
“Ahem,” an older man in old-fashioned clothing announced. “It's Beethoven.” He bowed and clicked a button on his remote in his hand.
“Ladies and gentleman, I am pleased, as Ludwig van Beethoven, composer of the eighteenth century, to introduce my application called Beethoven. Very original. You see, after seeing all these young folks in this day and age, I have been enlightened. For one: I have my hearing back again! These things-”
“Hearing aids,” someone coughed.
“-yes, hearing aids,” Beethoven continued, “have aided me very well these past few weeks being in these modern times. So much, I've composed six more symphonies!”
Claps. Applause. Whistling.
“Not only that, but I have heard,” he coughed, “about the usage of apps and their profound statement they make on young people. Naturally, I want to aid in the education of young people, especially in music. So with the great help of Mr. Smith and I, we have created: Beethoven!” He coughed. “The app.”
Claps. Polite applause.
Mr. Smith stood. “Beethoven, the app, gives children the music passion, motivation, and education they need. With live practice session with musicians all around the world-” Beethoven beamed, “your child will never find the excuse ‘I don’t have a study buddy' anymore.”
Beethoven took the mic. “I truly hope you enjoy this app, I-” he blipped.
“Well, there goes Mr. Beethoven,” Mr. Smith said. “Until the next century, Ludwig!”

{ march 4, daily
611/300 words
i first rolled a four, then a six. i am writing in past tense, in the third person omniscient point of view.
“Would a certain James Potter from the house of Gryffindor please report to Professor Dumbledore's office?”
James's head was circling as he excited the Potions classroom. Professor Slughorn asked he stay and finish the last fifteen minutes with the class, but the woman at the megaphone insisted.
When was the last time he was called to the headmaster's quarters? He had not done anything bad in the past forty-eight hours. Well, nothing too bad.
He dragged his feet out of the dungeons. At least he got to skip class, just for the wrong reasons. It was not very interesting anyway. Lily was absent.
“Hehehee!” screeched the school's Poltergeist. James rolled his eyes as Peeves began a song.
James snuck his wand back in his robes after casting a spell, causing Peeves to scream wordlessly after him. Professor Dumbledore's office was just ahead. James reluctantly picked up his feet and arrived at the griffin.
“Mars Bar,” he said in monotone. He quickly climbed onto the stairs, leaving Peeves the Poltergeist outside.
James ascended the stairs quietly, still wondering what Professor Dumbledore might be asking him for. Let's see, the color-changing rat was Tuesday, but today was Friday. Surely he would've been called sooner than that. Wednesday brought tower-climbing toads. He would have to think further, and the spiraling stairs were not helping….
“Mr. Potter.”
James jerked his head up. He did not realize he had already made it up the flight of stairs.
“Yes, Professor?”
“I'm glad you came so soon, Mr. Potter. Surely Professor Slughorn did not find your exit too disturbing?” Professor Dumbledore inquired, taking a sweet from a jar.
“Er… no, Professor.”
“Good. For this is a matter of grave importance. Take a seat, James,” he gestured to a pouf nearby and the jar of sweets. “This will not do lightly.”
James nervously sat down, taking in his surroundings before settling his eyes on Dumbledore.
“I suppose I should get straight to the point, for byways are not often effective.” Dumbledore spoke with an air of urgency and sat up straighter. “Miss Lily Evans is and has been, if I may, possessed.”
James sat confounded. “W-What, Professor- no. She's all right-”
“That is the very reason I called you, James. We've only just discovered this by an outside source. Quite an unreliable one, at that. It seems that Evans has been acting under a trance so untraceable that even I did not detect it.”
“What do you mean- a trance? Professor?” James added.
“It's best for you to leave the unknown alone, Mr. Potter, although anything we gather we will inform you of. I am rather busy at the moment, caught up in this affair. If you accept, your Head of House will give you further instructions. At the present however, watching over Miss Evans is of most importance.”
“You want me to spy on Lily?” James asked carefully.
Dumbledore chuckled. “As if you haven't been already.”
James shifted in his seat, brows furrowed and, for a first, worried. “Why me?”
Dumbledore said, “I ask this of you, James, past your record and how many times Mr. Filch has written down your name, but for the spark I see in you. Few have the endurance and compassion you have shown us. Good marks are not the only parts necessary for success. If and only if you keep this up, well, the world is in need of Aurors.” He paused for a moment, letting this sink in.
“Now, James. What do you say?”
James looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes, and nodded. “I'll find her, I promise.”
Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Good lad.”

{ march 3, daily
485/400 words
icue the patriotic music
EPISTOLARY'S ANTHEM (123/100 words):
in sunshine or lightning
we have perfect timing
strictly speaking, no competing
punctual, feathery, airy- you will
find us all in epistolary

epistolary letter terminal
the mail system is alive
we have snowy owls! burrowing owls! tawnys, great greys, and the barns!
all here to live and thrive

our cabinmates are pioneering people
all thriving in a great bird's nest
big shoes to fill (or should i say claws?)
we tell you that we are doing our best

for eons paper and pen were gold
to send and receive the love and the bold
to grapple, woo, or express the cold
o, letters are still new of the old!

a legacy of letters
a battalion of go-getters
e-pis-to-lar-y will send! your!
letterrrrr……… next!

FAIRY TALES' ANTHEM (130/100 words):
o the stories of our childhoods never leave us
for they leave us in innocent suspense
in bed with book we laughed and cried
and tears were shed at the page's expense…

so were the true loves, the pots and the queens
cobblers and handmaidens, magical beans
morals at each end and hungry for more
these stories as children we all would adore

in with the new came a more modern texts
more prince charmings, princesses in their nice dress
you see, we have history, and in every cranny
you may find your godmother might just be your nanny

for fairy tales some, and fairy tales all
many of our campers just have such a ball
dancing and laughing, pretty in blue
we believe in this: fairy tales are true

SCRIPT'S ANTHEM (112/100 words):
sing ho, sing ho!
join our musical!
the greatest showman, hamilton
we've acted out them all

bouncing ‘bout the big ol’ stage
our actors act their scripts
we laugh and cry until goodbyes
the end of one called six!

we are script
the wonderful script we are
with catchy tunes and great cartoons!
we are the greatest star

the fourth wall and our curtain calls
only have existed
'cos theatre fun and everyone
graciously assisted

we are script
the wonderful script we are
with catchy tunes and great cartoons!
we are the greatest star

so come join our circus!
our masquerade facade
behind the scenes or any means-
shed your tears! applaud!

FANFICTION'S ANTHEM (120/100 words):
barreling in with our army of fandoms
working and churning out tales in tandem
more storylines, more characters, places and things
we are fanfiction, and this is our anthem

in fanfiction we possess new stories of the old
with origin stories, or the truth foretold
new lore in every nook and cranny
we publish them only if we are so bold

we've worlds upon worlds, enemies to lovers
crossovers, retells, plots on top of each other
alternate universes, a different perspective
unlikely soulmates, a secret blood brother

so we are fan-fi, the new old-fashioned
ready with fates for our mc's to be destined
crazy in romance, or dashing in flight
come and join us, and hey, bring a guest in!

{ march 1, daily
1040 words
Hi I’m Raya, my pronouns are she/her, and this is another 1k introduction!

This March, I want to be better organized, and write in more of a focused topic. In past sessions I’ve participated in, my writing pieces were scattered and I dabbled in many different things like different fandoms, my own fandom, poetry, and never wrote periodically.. This time I want to pick something and stick with it!
I remember March of 2023 I was journaling every night, even if only a little. I plan to reignite that habit this month as well.

My first SWC session was back in July of 2022. I didn't participate much but remember that I was more motivated to write. I did start my journaling stage then, coming online for some activities. I also was in summer camp which took up a lot of my time so I wasn't online much. I was in Non-Fi Press.
I was much more active in my second session, November 2022. I was also participating in NaNoWriMo so I was already in my writing mindframe. I'd participated in NaNoWriMo once or twice before that SWC session, so writing each November was a habit for me already. Dystopian Realm is still my favorite session of SWC I've had by far. I feel like I performed my best then, and mostly remember the month because of how much I improved.
Third session in 2023 of March, I applied for leader. I made a Percy Jackson themed application and actually got in as a co-leader! I was super excited that Skye and Vee took me in, and was in for a ride in Fan-fi that March. I wrote quite a lot that month as well, mostly in journaling again and believe I entered the writing competition too. I'm actually really proud that I journaled every day and night in March. I felt really good after writing by hand so much, though it was certainly a task to count the words all up! Come to think of it, I could've been writing then…. Anyways!
Fourth session: July 2023. Another summer camp month, and I didn't end up being very active in SWC at all, really, which I am kind of ashamed of. I'd applied for co-leader and was accepted by Nat to co-lead Mystery. We came up with an awesome storyline, but didn't go all the way through with it. It was mostly on me because I was focusing on sports and daily life more than I had planned. It was a fun session, I just don't feel I was at my peak then. NAT, YOU'RE AMAZING <3 It's a trend with July's, maybe.
November 2023, my fifth session, I was in Sci-Fi Survivors as a camper. This was a super fun session and I enjoyed much of my time there. My word count was not what I intended it to be at the end of the month at all, but other than that, the experience was amazing! I have to thank Mouse, Iris, and Celina for such a wonderful session.
Now onto my sixth SWC month in a row! March 2024 is going to be great, I know it. I can't wait to see what Epistolary brings me, and what I can bring to them! *Cough*-words-*cough*-mangoes-

A little bit about me- I say ‘a little’ but this may or may not amount to a few hundred words, hehe.
I’m an Asian-American, but it is not quite simple. More specifically I should say Chinese, Irish, Russian, British, and Scottish.
My zodiac star sign is Gemini, and my Chinese zodiac is the Rat. Does that mean . . . I’m a twin rat??
I am seated in the ninth grade, a freshman! My high school experience has been so great so far. I’ve met new friends - ones I could talk about for hours long. It’s been a shaky ride, too, with so many new things happening.

ALLOW ME TO RANT A LITTLE ABOUT BAND- I NEED THE WORDS!
List of bands I'm in: wind ensemble, marching band, jazz band, and another jazz band. I have two parades left in marching band. Super excited for those! Also looking forward to competing with the ensemble and performing in a couple other concerts. In jazz, we'll be doing a few gigs, trips, and a concert.

My favorite fandoms are Harry Potter, Star Wars, and Marvel. I absolutely love role-playing in them, and my love will never cease. I also take interest in Keeper of the Lost Cities. I know I'm forgetting something.

In terms of music right now, I am loving songs from Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, Fall Out Boy, Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish, Tom Grennan, Bastille, I mean a whole ton! I made a playlist specifically made with Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier in mind, and it's got many of them. I just can't get enough! My current song on repeat is Little Bit of Love by Tom Grennan. It's nostalgic, yet it only came out a few years ago. Maybe songs that were released in the pandemic have a bit of nostalgia in them. Which begs the question, why?

Some words on journaling- I've kept a bullet journal near me since June of 2022. My dad gave me a bullet journal for my birthday and that's how I got into it! I remember wondering why it was a notebook with only dots instead of lines! I figured it out and began my bullet journaling journey. Now I've gone through two books and on my third! I'm already about halfway into it, and searching for a new one for my fourth! Bullet journaling has been a love/hate journey with me. Sometimes it gets tiring, and sometimes I just can't stop journaling! Much of it has been the aesthetic part, I think. I don't really vibe with making things aesthetic so pages often end up looking like * on the pretty point of view, yet highly informational in another point of view.

I'm at a thousand words- I'm so proud! Well, another day, another thousand (I hope). Thank you, SWC, for motivating me through my writing journey. I couldn't have done bunches of the works I've written without you.

Signing out (and good night),
~ Raya

1k word intro - 1107 words


Hello hello! My name is Kenzie (she/her) and this is my 1k word intro!!!


First of all, I should probably mention how I'm currently writing this at 12:13 am, but who cares! It could be a little different but idk and we’ll see how future me (who has sleep) likes it.

One thing I love about myself that's pretty cool is me being homeschooled. I’ve been homeschooled since 1st grade, and it honestly has brought on a different perspective of how I see the world. Some perks from it that I love include a flexible schedule, more time to spend with family, and learning at my own pace! I’ve also been able to see things from a more Christian perspective, which is nice.

Moving on, I’m also a Christian! I grew up in a Christian home, and accepted Jesus into my heart somewhere around five or six years old. And then, in middle school, I got baptized at a church camp in the summer. I love the book of John and the book of Revelations, both of them are very exciting and inspiring!

Another interesting fact about me is that I am a bookworm! In my free time, the most common thing you can find me doing is reading a book! I enjoy a wide variety of books, ranging from fantasy to Christian fiction! On my favorites list, there’s many series. Including Harry Potter, Keeper of the Lost Cities, Percy Jackson, Millie Maven, Riverbend Friends, and more that I can’t think of!

Currently I have two pets, both of them dogs, their names are Skye and Brownie and they are German Shorthaired Pointers! They are highly energetic, but then also friendly and snuggly. I’ve also owned cats before, whose names were Mouse and Byte (full name of Kilobyte).

I’ve been writing stories since 2021 I think. I first started writing in a writing class at my co-op, and my writing was not very great looking back now. I’ve improved so much. I honestly haven’t really discovered what genres I like writing best in, but I’m hoping to do that soon.

Online, my personality can be very bubbly and happy. If you get to know me, you may find out that I speak in caps a lot with my close friends (that’s a sign I’m comfortable around you!). That’s just my silly side, there’s also a serious side that I have as well.

Offline, I tend to have a lot of my online personality (my online personality reflects my offline one) and I can be a little quiet/shy at times, but if there’s kids there I’ll be happy. At my co-op I’m probably known as the girl always reading, or maybe just the quiet smart girl. I’m honestly not sure.

On scratch, I’ve been in lots of communities. I first joined back in January 2022 because I wanted to learn how to code on there haha. I clearly remember the first day of finding it. After making my first two accounts, I did decide to delete them and make a new account. On that one, it was the one I discovered SWC! It was my account @ItsKenzie22. Honestly, that username was very cringe.

Although I don’t really remember exactly how I joined SWC, I think I found it on my what’s happening page and checked it out. My first session was November 2022, and I was in Fan-fi time travel agency! It was a very inactive session. I barely wrote at all honestly.

One memory I do have from there though, is my secret account! Back in November I was bored and decided to make a ‘mango’ account. It was @SWCmango and I gained quite the popularity.

I found another camp in January, called January Writing Camp. I tried applying for leader, but didn’t really make the best application. JWC was amazing! I made manyyy friends, as well as memories. It was really fun being in the Sleuth cabin

Eventually, leader apps came around for March 2023. I joined on @SWCmango, hoping to get accepted, but then didn’t due to poor application quality (I didn’t know how to make one). I am very glad I didn’t get accepted, because that would’ve been hard to explain.

That session, I joined as a camper! I was in Thriller. It was my favorite session, I made many new friends, memories, and more! I loved Thriller mainly because everyone was active, and the storyline was interactive and engaging.

It went by quickly, and soon I arrived to the July 2023 session. It wasn’t a very active session either, I was very busy with irl stuff and didn’t have my time or motivation.

And then, just last session, I had my one year anniversary in SWC. It was honestly a fun session, but it went by fast.

Another community that I also joined is the ‘aesthetic community’ but I don’t really want to talk about that.

Honestly, I’ve owned many accounts in SWC. I think over 40 but most of them are deleted. My favorite account would either be @-KenzieCamps-, @stariiwxnder, or my current one (@kindhrts-).

My goals for this session are going to be to complete at least 15 dailies, reach my word goal, and participate in activities! I really think this March session will be amazing, considering my last March session was.

Another thing I really love is music. I love listening to music, and I have many favorites. One thing about me is that I kind of wandered after my dad as far as my music and book taste. He introduced me to fantasy, and I somehow discovered some of the music he likes on my own.

My favorite artist is Reliant K currently. They are a Christian Rock band. I also love other artists, like Steven Curtis Chapman, and more! I mainly listen to various Christian sub genres currently.

Also, one not very known fact is that when I was younger (about six to eight I think) my favorite song was “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift.

Back in November I met Ris (@eeveedonut) in real life! We discovered through NaNoWriMo that we only lived 20 minutes away, so we secretly met at a library. Now I chat to her pretty much every day and yeah.

My mom knows about SWC, and it’s very funny. When I told her Ris and I met irl, she didn’t freak out luckily but she gave me this whole speech on not meeting up boys irl, not getting dropped off to meet someone irl, and more lol.

And that’s my 1k word intro done. I hope you enjoyed reading it!!

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
maia's march '24 swc thread
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° 16506/8k
tragedy ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
dailies
                    3/1/24 ⛧ daily 1 ⛧ 1025 ⛧ 0
                    3/4/24 ⛧ daily 2 ⛧ 480 ⛧ 350
                   3/15/24 ⛧ daily 3 ⛧ 638 ⛧ 500
                    date ⛧ link ⛧ w/c ⛧ points
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
weeklies
                   3/9/24 ⛧ weekly 1 ⛧ 3185 ⛧ 2000
                  3/16/24 ⛧ weekly 2 ⛧ 1397 ⛧ 1500
                    date ⛧ link ⛧ w/c ⛧ points
                    date ⛧ link ⛧ w/c ⛧ points
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
misc
                  3/10/24 ⛧ to critique ⛧ 1595 ⛧ 0
                   3/12/24 ⛧ fry-ary ⛧ 1172 ⛧ 0
            3/30/24 ⛧ what's your emergency? writing comp entry⛧ 1843 ⛧ 0
                    date ⛧ link ⛧ w/c ⛧ points
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
❝ gold stars are kinda my thing ❞
rachel berry┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °
✧. ┊glee 2009    
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Daily 1, 3/1/24, Introduce Yourself!

Hey everyone! I’m Em, leader of Tragedy Cabin! This is my first time leading, so I’m super excited to see some new faces, and to get to know the ropes a bit better! I have a very broad range of interests, from reading to music to playing games! Although my favorite genre of books is fantasy, I’ve also started to read comics/manga, and they’ve been pretty good! In terms of music, I’ve been playing the piano for a pretty long time, and actually have a performance coming up soon but I’m kind of sick and scared so wish me luck <3 I’ve also been playing sax for school and is in my school’s jazz band along with some friends, which is fun! I’ve just started playing DnD for a school club, my character is a wizard, and one of my friends is Leaf, a ranger, and another is Rigatoni, a paladin who prays to the pasta god. In terms of video games, I only play two, I mainly focus on HSR and play GI as a side thing, but Omori seems cool, albeit a horror game, but I’ve seen playthroughs and it’s so sad I enjoy personality quizzes and such, I’m an INTJ, enneagram 8 (? still questioning that), Hufflepuff (though I consider myself Ravenclaw), and District 13 kid. That’s about it, and although this isn’t a 1k intro, I consider this good enough because I’m too lazy to write 1k words! I hope I get to meet and talk with all the awesome people here, but I’m afraid that’s not possible, so let’s hope for the best!

Total word count: 268 words

Daily 2, 3/2/24, Use a compliment, mine was “Vibes”

Rose rushed over to Luca’s desk. “What did you want to show me?” she asked excitedly.
Luca shrugged nervously, “Nothing much, just a little Lofi track that I made. Would you like to hear it?”
“Of course!” Rose exclaimed.
Luca pulled out his chair and sat down in front of a dusty old computer. Pressing the power button on the side of the computer, he sat back and waited. “This might take some time,”
“That’s fine!”
Both of them stared at the screen for a while, until it finally opened. Luca took the mouse immediately and pulled out a music file. “This is called dusk till dawn, I hope you enjoy it. It’s my first time doing something like this, so it might be a bit different from the music you hear usually,” he hesitated, before clicking the button to play.
Cool tones surged from the speaker and a steady beat started to play. It somehow transformed into something more mystical, and then into a bright summer day.
“Vibes,” Rose said in awe. “This sounds awesome! You really have a talent for this, did you know that?”
“Really?” Luca asked. “Really?”
“Yes!”
Luca’s grin seemed to reach his eyes as he hugged her. “This is great! I thought you’d hate it, but it seems like you didn’t. Hopefully, everyone else will think the same as you, from what you’ve said, I think I’ll share it with my family and see what they think too.”
“Definitely,” Rose responded with a grin. “I’m sure they’ll love it. You should really put it on Spotify, get an artist’s name, and do this for a job. You have enough talent!”
Luca pulled Rose in again for another bone-crushing hug, and they just sat there, in that old, crumbling apartment, with the speakers on blast, and them, just together.

Total word count: 306 words

Daily 2, 3/3/24, Write Cabin National Anthems (Kinda made all of them sad just because)

Tragedy -

The dusk falls,
And so do you, into a pile of ashes
Don’t worry, we tell you,
Don’t ever worry,
You’ll be safe here,
The thoughtless whispers and mumbles
Safe with us
A family, a family
Full of lies, deceit, and death
Full of backstabbing, broken hearts.
Soon, when midnight falls
Nothing will be visible.
Who to trust?
Who to listen to?
Where do your relations lie, in the midst of darkness?
Decide now, and hear me clearly,
For when darkness takes its toll,
And the sun rises once more.
You will only see smiling faces,
Until the night falls, once again.

Sci-fi
Against AI we stand,
For freedom, we stand,
The only thing holding us together
The corrupted data
Our only wish is to free ourselves
From the AI
Come, help us
Is all we ask,
When the files glitch,
And we are deleted,
What will stand last?
Who will be the last victor,
Who will have the last word,
Whether we save ourselves or not,
Who will truly win?
You or me,
The AI or us,
The world or us?
Will reality finally break,
The weight of the folds,
Too heavy to bear?
Who will be the one responsible, when all
Reality
Is gone?

Poetry -
Oh, the past years have gone so fast,
Where have the flowers once bloomed gone?
And us, just doing what we can,
When will things return back to what they were,
Before the drought, before the war?
Before all hope was lost,
Before memories were gone.
When the valley, was but a mere friend
Now seems like it’s reaching its end
Saving it is the only hope,
But what’s saving if no one’s there
To help?
Still sits the valley,
Unaware of what we have done,
To preserve it,
Still sits the valley,
The withered flowers are still there,
Still sits the valley,
And we sit there.

Dystopian -
The ruins, long abandoned,
See the light of day again,
As we, the explorers say,
What is lost is not forgotten,
Those who wander are not lost,
And we the wanderers,
Stumble across adventures,
And forever we walk them,
Will you join us,
As we investigate these mysteries,
All in the hope of discovering something new
Something old,
Something blue,
Before fate takes its toll,
And these old ruins are gone forever
Help us,
Help us,
Uncover secrets worth the greed.
If so, you might find something you seek
As what are we but all explorers,
Adventurers,
Looking for something
Lost inside
Lost inside


Total words: 420 (favorite one in case you're wondering is the poetry one)

Daily 4, 3/3/2024, Roll a die (I got past tense and 3rd person omniscient)

Jason shrugged. He hadn’t expected Alyra to be so smart. Maybe he messed up, a while back, when he was covering up any traces of him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Alyra’s eyes narrowed. She knew that he was lying. She had it all figured out. “Jason, hon, the gig is up. We know who you are.” That was a lie. But everything else wasn’t. Truth be told, Alyra was very intimidated by Jason’s presence, especially after knowing what he’s done before. It was always best not to trust people like him. He had an aura that radiated suspicion.
“Do you, now?” He smirked.
The game of cat and mouse was almost over. Both of them knew the other's secret, but Jason still had one more card up his sleeve.
“Alyra, I have your sister,” Alyra’s face paled. Her sister? She’d been searching so long for her, she’d do anything-
“If you dare say one thing about me, one peep to the police, your sister?” He smiled casually. “She’ll be gone, just like that,” he snapped. “And what will you do when she’s gone?”
Alyra gasped. “Not my sister, don’t do anything to her! If you are going to try and hurt someone, hurt me! I deserve it more than my sister!”
Jason grinned. He had her right under the mousetrap, and she was millimeters away from the cheese. He watched inch closer and closer to the trap, before, snap!
“I’ll keep quiet,” she looked up, with fear in her eyes. “Anything for her.”
“I also want every single file you have against me, and burn the copies. I don’t want anyone figuring out who I am. Not everyone has a viable weakness like you,” he laughed out loud.
Alyra’s face had turned a deadly shade of white. If she gave in, then all that her team had done would go down the gutter. Jason would escape. But her sister, her dear sister. So innocent and sweet, who had gotten caught up in all of this. She couldn’t let her die. No, she couldn’t.

Total words: 347

Daily 5, 3/4/2024, After reading a chapter of a book, continue the story. (This is based on the first chapter of the summer I turned pretty, and what could've been if Belly just wasn't interested in them anymore. Kind of bittersweet I guess) (Keep in mind I have never read the books but know intense spoilers and what it's about)

I went to bed that night with a flurry feeling in my stomach. As if all my emotions had been shoved into a corner in my intestines, and been pounded down by my excitement. They were all waiting for their chance to make a grand entrance out of my mouth.
It’s nothing, I assured myself. They don’t like me that way. Of course, they wouldn’t. I found that it was easy to forget people, albeit very good-looking ones, if you turn your mind away from them. Worry about bigger things than boys, I told myself. You’ve got girls too. I laughed at that joke silently.
“Seriously,” I said quietly. “Worry about getting through high school. What do two boys that have nothing to do with you except family relations matter? They won’t help you get through college, Belly.”
And with that, the flurry of emotions seemed to settle down, and so did I. For the rest of the summer, I had a great time with my family, along with Conrad and Jeremiah. Though they seemed much more mature than they used to be, and sometimes made me a bit uncomfortable, my mind was able to distract me from them.
With the summer ending, Steven, Mom, and I bade goodbye to them. As we left for the car, I swear I could see something in both those boy’s eyes. Something sad and bittersweet, a gift that you threw in the trash. Remnants of what could’ve been. Of touching my hand in the pool at night, of that beach bonfire where we were dancing. Or of that day we were playing video games on the couch and it was just us.
But those remnants stayed the way they were, and so did I. Soon I would return back home, and work hard at school until another summer came. And another. Until there was no Conrad, Jeremiah, and Laurel to begin with.
Until all of them were gone, until Jeremiah and Conrad set off with their lives, and Laurel would become sick way before that, and depart from this world.
Where both siblings would find lovers from places they wouldn’t expect, and I would still be there. Their Belly. All grown up. With someone else.
Conrad would often joke, holding the hands of his two toddler twins, that he had thought he would be devastated if we didn’t end up marrying. Of course, that was a thought he had as a little kid. When we were all little kids. Too innocent and naive to believe there really was something.
And I would laugh, holding my adopted daughter, trying to drag her away from the cat and smile wistfully at those summer nights.

Total words: 449

Weekly 1, 3/5/24

No. 1 Myth: Retelling (I chose the story of Psyche and Eros)
“Ugh,” Aphrodite groaned. “Why is this girl so beautiful? And why do people refuse to see it? Like what the heck? I can’t bear to bear witness at this crime. You must have her killed, Eros,” she told him coldly, with no ounce of regret in her eyes.
Eros shifted uncomfortably. “Mother, I can’t just do that! That’s a bit, going too far, don’t you think?”
Aphrodite grinned. “My dear, that’s where you have it wrong. She wears baggy sweatshirts and out-of-style jeans. It’s an atrocity that she can’t see what’s on the inside. That is why she must be killed. Also, I don’t want anyone prettier than me to exist, so that’s another reason.”
“Fine,” Eros sighed. His back suddenly started writhing, two stubs growing out of his body. Suddenly he had sprouted two feathery wings. “Catch ya later Mother!” And so he lept off to finish his duty.
“So that’s the girl,” he peered over a fluffy cloud. “She is really pretty. And kinda cute. It’d be a shame to let her go to waste. Y’know what, I’m not going to kill her! I’ll make her into my wife!”
Eros devised a plan to get Pysche into the clutches of his arms. Soon she’d be in them, he thought.

Total words: 213

No. 2, Hi-fi: Change one thing about a historical event (I did what if the U.S. lost the Revolutionary War?)
“Honey, do you still have the tea?” Ariadne’s mother called. “Oh it’s the crown prince’s coronation, I can’t believe it! We get to watch it from the comfort of our own home, in California, so far away from England!” She wiped away a tear. “This is such a lovely occasion!”
“Yes mother,” Ariadne called. She rushed in, holding a platter of biscuits and tea. “I’ve got them all ready for you,” she bit her lip. Although this may be a momentous occasion for her mother, she had met the prince, or heard of him at least enough to know he wasn’t the best person out there, to put it nicely. Egotistical, arrogant, and cocky, were a few terms to describe him. Definitely not fit to rule a giant country, almost ready to take over the world. He’d be better in a mental health ward.
The TV flickered and started showing a very unpleasant POV, looking at the soon-to-be king’s face. Ariadne shuddered. She could see every nostril hair that the prince had in his nose, and she did not like it.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining me on this day,” he smirked. “I have the pleasure of becoming your king, and I can’t believe it. I look forward to serving this country, and doing the best I can to do whatever it takes to help it flourish.”
Lies.

Total words: 227

No. 3, Fairytales: Cinderella meets Snow White meets Mulan meets Jafar
Cinderella looked around in awe. This place was beautiful, much bigger than any palace she could ever have imagined. “Is anyone here?”
The sound of feet clicking on a marble floor greeted her. “Hello,” a girl with black hair and skin as white as snow said. “I’m Snow White. And you are?” She looked nervous, a bit scared, as she looked at Cinderella. She seemed to be able to hold a bit of decorum, even in a situation like this.
“I’m Cinderella, and pardon me, I have never heard of a Snow White before. I was just sleeping, but then, I awoke to this strange place!”
Snow White gasped. “Me too! Could this perhaps be a work of dark magic?”
“Dark magic or not, we need to get out of here,” a tough voice spoke, from out of the darkness. Cinderella and Snow White leaped in fright. A beautiful woman with straight black hair and light skin looked at them with glaring eyes. “I saw a strange man. I believe he has something to do with this, and I’m afraid our only option is to escape.”
“A strange man?” Cinderella asked. “That is very scary. Are you sure there’s no one that can help us?”
The woman bowed. “Mulan, at your service. I believe his name is Jafar. I heard him scheming as I hid. He has brought us together so that all happy endings will eventually be ruined. Have you ever heard of that?”
A groan resounded from another room.

Total words: 252

No. 4, Folklore: Showing a character passing down a story

Evie looked at the fire, her face seemed to be haunted by the ghosts of the past as she opened her mouth to speak. “Are you ready to hear the story?” she asked. The fire crackled and spat at the group’s feet.
“Yes!” Melissa exclaimed. She had been waiting eagerly for this day. Evie always had a background she never talked about, and today was the day when it was revealed.
“There was once a land, far away, called Rumin. It was a prosperous land, yet sad and dreary. The king and queen’s only child had died a few years ago, and they were still mourning. Suddenly, out of the blue, a strange hero appeared. He defeated all the land’s monsters, helped the people, and even revived the princess. After all of the amazing deeds, the king and queen asked him if he’d like to marry the princess, who at that time, loved the hero very much for saving him. The hero, on the other hand, refused, knowing that his destiny was to wander the world alone forever. The princess, haunted by grief and sadness, destroyed herself, knowing that in turn, she’d become a ghost, allowing her to follow the hero forever. If he could not be her lover, she would still be there. The hero never knew, until his dying day,” Evie took a deep breath. “That was many years ago. Some say, that after the hero too passed away, he refused to ever see the princess, and so she still haunts the world to this day, hoping for the hero to come back and save her.”
Angel frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Total words: 278

No. 5, Hi-fi: If these walls could talk
They were here before me. Those natives, with their bright eyes and inquisitive minds, had been here before me. They were the ones who planted me, with love and care, piling dirt upon dirt to give me a warm blanket to sleep under.
I grew every day, taller and taller, until I was the tallest tree in that forest. The natives would look at me in wonder, point, and say, that tree is blessed by the gods. At that time, I truly believed what they said. I was blessed by the gods, I told myself every day.
But do the ones who are blessed by the gods watch their creators slowly die out as others take control of the forest? Are they the ones who grieve every day for the trees that are slowly cut down? Are they the ones who are the only ones standing in a place that was once a giant forest? Are they surrounded by barren land instead of lush greenery? Are they the ones who have witnessed the once mighty conquerors of the land to die out? Are they the ones who are there at the end? In the end, when they are the only living beings in this world?
And soon, I will too disappear. That will truly be the end, won’t it?

Total words: 218

No. 6, Folklore: Write a story with a moral
Talk less, smile more. It’s what my father told me when I was just a toddler, not even grown up yet. That day, I had been blabbing my head off after he had introduced me to his boss.
It was clear that the boss was feeling uncomfortable with all my talking, but of course, you can’t get angry at a little baby. So he didn’t say a word.
When we got home, my father knelt down, so that we were eye to eye. He spoke seriously. “Marigold. In this world, people love people that are happy. People don’t like people who are chatterboxes. Talking so much won’t get you anywhere. A smile will.”
I was confused. “But why can’t I talk?”
My father groaned. “Talking is fine, but when you talk so much, about useless topics, it doesn’t help anyone.”
The next day my father was fired from his job. He didn’t say anything to me, and the day after that, he sent me to live with my mother forever. As I left, I looked at him, pleading, as if to tell him to let me stay. He shook his head and smiled.
I smiled back, even though I knew it would do nothing.

Total words: 205

Total words in weekly: 1393

Daily 6, 3/5/24: Make your own genre! Guess mine <3

“Woohoo!” Eve shouted! “Time for tea!” She opened the box full of tea packets and started hurling them in a giant mug, filled with boiling hot water.
James couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “Eve, have you turned into those tea-obsessed people? I can’t help but think so.”
Eve pouted from behind the giant mug. “I like tea, what’s wrong with that?” She asked. Taking a large straw, she stirred the water in the mug impatiently. “I also just want the tea to mix with the water, what’s wrong with that?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone you meet would tell you that’s the wrong way of making tea, but sure,” he smirked. “Some boil it, some microwave it, y’know.”
Eve gasped. “Who would ever microwave tea? That’s a travesty! I don’t have any of those kettle things, so this is the best I can do without insulting the pride of tea. Tea should never be microwaved, and that’s a fact. Plus, it tastes wrong whenever someone does that…”
James sat next to Eve. “I’ll sit here and wait for the tea to be done with you. I have nothing to do, and I want to taste your special tea, will you let me?”
“Of course, just after it’s done,” Eve rolled her eyes. “Be patient.”
After a while, the teabags had finally exhorted their juices into the water, and Eve cackled and rubbed her hands in delight. “It’s done! Time for the taste test!” She shoved her head into the tea and took a long sip.

Total words: 256

Daily 7, Women's Day! Wrote to myself <3 3/6/24

Dear Em,

Although this may seem narcissistic by writing a letter to you, I want you to know how much I appreciate you. Mentally, it’s been a tough and life-changing few years, and I’m proud to say that on Women’s Day, I can celebrate you. (note to self: Yesterday was March 7th’s birthday <3) There have been a lot of moments where you had to show so much bravery, and I’m proud to call you myself. Together, we will get through whatever life throws at us, and I hope to make more fun and happy memories! Here’s a reminder to also appreciate the female figures around you too, and remind them how much they mean to you because they’ve done a lot! Don’t worry about others too much, and focus on living your life to the fullest. Keep writing, keep doing what you love, no matter what others say about you. For writing and drawing, two things you enjoy but aren’t the best at, who cares if you aren’t a prodigy? Keep going! You’ve got this, and I will always be by your side, no matter what. Even if everyone abandons us, I will stay. Persist. Remember to keep exercising and be healthy, make sure to take care of your body and anything it needs. Enjoy this day, and do what you love!

Total words: 225

Daily 11, 3/11/24 (ramadan daily)

The birds chirped and the grass was so green that I was almost blinded by it. It is beautiful. No war, just peace. It had taken a long time for all the countries to agree to do so, but I’m sure that most people were glad that no more people would continue to disappear just because they were unlucky.
There were issues about overpopulation, but everyone is happy, and if everyone is happy, I’m happy, and if everyone is happy then we will always find a solution for everything. I know we can.
Everyone who wants one has their other puzzle piece, their lover. There couldn’t be a world with more love and happiness than here. I know it won’t continue for long, so why not enjoy the view before it turns into crumbling ashes, before the magic breaks, and I’m back in the real world?
It will never happen again, so I should savor it before this reality is ripped away from me. But while I’m enjoying it, I’m so happy. I’m so glad. I feel so free. I cannot see the shackles that bound me to the ground. I see the sky, and imagine I’m flying rather than lying on the ground.

total words: 204

Daily 13, 3/12/24: Took a sentence from a hosties profile and made a story out of it

In a world of magic and mystery, sweet music played in the dark overwhelmed Saffron’s senses, he felt calm and relaxed, a far cry from how tense and scared he was earlier. Don’t fall for it, he told himself. It’s a trick, it has to be one. A soft chuckle escaped from his mouth. He knew who it was. “So this is the infamous dark savior.”
Slow claps came from every which way, and Saffron gasped in horror as a black glowing figure stepped out of the darkness. “Close enough, I’m their sister,” she pulled off her hood, revealing milky brown skin, dark hair braided in locks, and pure black eyes that seemed to suck Saffron’s soul into her body. “Why are you here?”
“You know why, why every single person who’s reached this place,” Saffron waved around. “Has died. Because of you.”
The woman laughed. “Well, not completely because of me, I’ve only been in charge of this business for a few years.”
Saffron was utterly bemused. Weren’t the stories all about the dark savior? There was never any mention of a sister. “Where is the dark savior? Am I not supposed to defeat him?”
The sweet music started to stop, continue, and then stop until it changed into something completely different. Instead of a sickly sweet honey, something dark and sinister flew into Saffron’s ears, making him shudder and want to hide. “They’re not here. But I might as well get rid of you since you’re already here.”
No, Saffron told himself. I can’t go down without a fight. He drew his dagger that glinted in the darkness, even without a light source. “I don’t think so,” he took a deep breath and charged towards the woman.
Just as his dagger was about to pierce her flesh, she disappeared. Saffron looked around confused.
“Letting your guard down, now that’s a beginner’s mistake,” the woman’s voice came from behind her and she shoved something into his back. “They always think they’ll win, don’t they?” She sighed dramatically. “Though I’m afraid that never happens.”

Total words: 344

Daily 14, 3/13/24: PI Daily!

Michael sat in the darkness. A waterfall rushed somewhere near him, and he felt at peace. Was this what heaven is like? Was he in heaven? His thoughts were too groggy, and he couldn’t think straight. All he could focus on was how quiet and perfect everything was.
As he sat there, he slowly came back to his senses. Why was he here? What was he doing? Where is he? He couldn’t take full control of his senses yet, but he felt as if he was half-asleep, half-dead, half-paralyzed, and half-conscious. He tried to open his eyes, and he noticed that there was something wrapped around his eyes.
What was it? Cloth? A bandanna? Michael realized that it was a blindfold. Don’t jump to conclusions, Mike, he told himself. What if this is a surprise? There are a million reasons why I should be wearing a blindfold. He tried to move, but something was preventing him.
The water continued to rush, strong and persistent. Something tight and scratchy was wrapped around his arms and legs. Finally, he knew what he was doing here, why he was in a position like this, sitting on a wooden chair, drugged and sedated.
“You’re the sacrifice,” the priest had whispered to Michael. “Sit tight, and you won’t feel a thing. We’ve made sure that you won’t remember anything before it comes.”
But he remembered, and now he sat in dread, realizing that there was nothing he could do with the bonds around his arms, the cloth on his face. Shuddering, he felt little bugs scurrying around his body. After all, he was in a jungle, wasn’t he? That’s where it lives.
Michael groaned. He hated being helpless like this. What did he do to be in this position? Trying to replay what he knew, he talked to himself. “The church is corrupted by money and greed, and when a real monster threatens Silva, they are cowards, and find a random orphan off the streets to be a sacrifice for it. To please it. So it will not destroy Silva, and the church won’t be in trouble with the king. And so here I am,” he sighed dejectedly.
A bird chirped, the sound went through Michael’s ears, and instead of the sweet sound that he was used to, it was bone-chilling, as if a warning to him to run. He couldn’t run. He had nothing to use, and even if he ran, he had no one to go to, he had nowhere to go.
Maybe it was better that he was the sacrifice and no one else. At least no one would be hurt. No one would miss him. He mattered nothing, in this world full of deceit, lies, games, and absurdity. He would sit back, and accept his fate.
Michael sat in the darkness, sensing a shadow fly over him, a low growl coming from in front of him. A waterfall rushed somewhere near him, and he felt at peace. He’d come to terms with himself. Was he in heaven yet? He hoped so. He wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

Total words: 520

Daily 15, 3/14/23: Ceasar Daily!

December 30th, 1999, 11:59 pm, in front of my door
The snow crunches beneath my combat boots, and I nervously chew the gum that’s been in my mouth for a few hours. Finally, home. After that party, I couldn’t take it anymore. My friends, if that’s what you call them, insisted that I go. I’m not exactly a party girl, and today was no different.
As I approach the door to my little cottage, I notice a dark figure hanging suspiciously near it. I take a deep breath and try to find my pepper spray tucked somewhere in my never-ending bag. Just in case, I tell myself.
“Excuse me, but may I ask why you are here?” I question the figure politely.
They rasp in a dark voice. “Heed this warning, tomorrow will be your last day on earth. No matter what you do, the stars have aligned, fate has chosen this path, and you must follow it,” with that, the figure melts into the darkness, and the cloak they wear helps camouflage them into the night sky.
I stayed outside for a while, confused about what happened earlier. After a few minutes, I decide to go into my house, take out my keys, walk in, and slam the door behind me, making sure to lock the door behind me as fast as possible.
“Death, huh?” I spat out bitterly. “Well, isn’t this fun?” Even though I told myself not to believe in a lunatic who would follow me to my home, I knew that what they said was probably going to happen. Having heart cancer, my life was always changing, I might live at one moment, and I might be seriously ill and close to death at another moment. There wasn’t a likely chance of me surviving.
I smile and unlock the door again. I am going to make my last day as wonderful as possible. I will live life to the fullest. I chuckle. “I can’t believe this is how I try my hardest in life when I know I’m going to die soon. I might as well,” I whisper to myself like a lunatic.
I fall onto the ground, making snow angels in the piles of cloud fluff, and sigh, looking up at the stars, my memories from the years before flowing into my head. I think of my family, my friends, myself. So much I have yet to do, so much I won’t be able to do. Maybe I’ll live again, and I’ll be able to do what I really want.
To have the confidence to find someone at those crazy parties, to have the confidence to go back to my family, and confront them for what they’ve done, to have the confidence to speak up, to have the confidence to tell anyone that I’m going to be gone after this day end.

Total words: 478

Weekly 2, 3/15/24

Flower Daily (I chose forget-me-nots and foxglove)

All three of us sat silently, the ice cream dripping down my pants. The sun shone down on us relentlessly. It was worse than winter when snow covered us until we looked like life-sized snowmen, sitting on a bench that was always occupied.
All of us are chained by the same curse. Him. He promised to find a forget-me-not, come back, and give it to the one he loved the most, out of the three people. Before we knew it, we’d sold our hearts to him willingly, without any objections. Mistake. Mistake. Mistake.
When he left, he left a strange flower. It took me a few seconds to realize what it meant. Foxglove. He wasn’t coming back. I never told the others. We’re still on that bench, those two chained by the hope that he will come back one day and declare his love, me chained by guilt and stupidity. I should’ve known, better, I tell myself, as I watch the mint ice cream run down my pants until it dried, making an ugly mark on my overalls.
“Wonder when he’ll come back,” one of them says.
The other mutters something in response.
I sigh. “Wonder when he’ll come back,” I tell them. “I wonder.”
We continue to sit in silence, watching the clouds move across the sky. The only benefit of this curse is that it makes time go by faster, so it won’t be long before I’m rotting, next to the other two. It won’t be long before we’re just skeletons, with a deformed ice cream cone next to us.
Time is a funny thing. I don’t remember how fast it went by, the only thing playing in my head were those two flowers. “Forget-me-not,” he’d told us, with a mischievous glint in his eye. I should’ve taken a second to think about what that look meant for me.
Now I’m sitting here, even more ice cream dripping down my legs, until my whole body is cold, under the warm and comforting sun.

Words: 335

Constellation Daily (I chose Pisces again)

Once upon a time, in a land so far but so near ours, there was a pond. A pond full of water, plants, and insects, full of life. It was green and blue, and pure. All was perfect, except the part where it had only one fish. The fish was very lonely, as the only fish in a pond full of other animal and plant species, it had no one to talk to, and no one to eat insects with.
The fish prayed hard to the Greek gods every day, in hopes that they would bless the fish with a friend. The god Poseidon finally listened. He used magic to duplicate the fish, so that the fish would never be alone it’d have a friend that was the same so that they could relate to each other all the time, and that the fish would be happy for the rest of its life.
The fish was ecstatic when it saw the other fish. They would never go anywhere in the pond without the other pair, and they would share their dirty secrets. The two fish quickly became fast friends. Even as they grew old, you could never see them in separate places, so even when the pond disappeared, the plants withered, the insects died, the two fishes used all the power inside them to turn them into stars in the night sky, so that they would be with each other forever.
The gods agreed with this after the two fishes appealed their cause, and to this day, even in this world, in fact in every world, you can slowly start to see the outlines of two fish, swimming around each other, together for the rest of eternity, as the stars will never fall, no matter what happens, the stars will stay there on the sky forever.

Words: 305

Aesthetic Set Daily
Aesthetic Set

SWC fan-fic daily

“Hello, Tragedy allies!” A Thriller camper smirked as they looked around the dark Woods. “It seems a bit drab here, compared to the insect academy we have.”
Willow scowled. “Well, I mean it’s not like we can do any renovating here,” she gestured around her. “What are you here for?” She tried to be as polite as she could, because Tragedy and Thriller were allies, and the helpers wanted to keep as many allies as possible.
“CJ and the rest of the Thriller leaders wanted me to give you this gift, a bunch of flowers that we got from the insect academy, as our pollinators are top-notch, so, of course, our flowers are of excellent quality too, and shouldn’t we give to our friends?” The Thriller camper seemed to know something that Willow didn’t know. They pulled out a bouquet of flowers. “They’re foxglove and forget-me-nots, I hope you and the rest of the Tragedy cabin enjoy them, they make a great decoration, and it will do much benefit to a place like this,” they wrinkled their nose. “I’ll be going now, I have much to do, unlike you hooligans who stay in dreary woods willingly.”
The Thriller camper left quickly, leaving Willow perplexed, with a bunch of flowers in her hand.
“Willow!” River called. “What’s that you got there? And I saw you with another person who didn’t seem to be in Tragedy, who was that?” She gestured for Willow to sit next to the fire that she just stoked.
“It was a camper from Thriller. They came to give us a bouquet of flowers. I swear, if they weren’t our allies I would’ve told them off immediately, people from that cabin have no respect for others.”
River frowned. “Willow, could I have that bouquet for a second?” Willow gingerly handed the big bouquet full of bursting flowers to her. “Has it ever occurred to you that these flowers could be a message?” River spoke, after staring at the flowers intently for a while.
“What do you mean? Is there a note in the middle of all of the flowers?” Willow asked curiously.
“No, but-” River was cut off by Em walking towards them, waving.
“Hey guys! The campers are about to escape, so our plan should start to go in motion soon.” She sat down next to the two girls.
“Thanks, we’ll be there after I finish telling Willow what these flowers mean,” River answered dismissively.
“Oh! What is it?”
Willow uttered a quick explanation. “A Thriller camper with a bad personality came here to give us a bunch of flowers. River thinks that there’s an ulterior motive to it, though. But Thriller are allies with us, why would they do that?”
“Well, Foxglove and Forget-me-nots both have a meaning to them. Foxglove in the Victorian times represented treachery and betrayal, while Forget-me-nots mean love in absence, so maybe in order for both of us to have a successful day in cabin wars, which is in fact tomorrow, they will betray us and give us an easy war, but only so that no other cabins will be able to give us harder wars during that time frame. I believe they want us to stay on their side no matter what they do,” River mused thoughtfully.
“That’s one way of putting it, but it’s too complicated for me. I think I’ll leave and just burn everything down. That’s always the easiest option,” Em shrugged and walked off again. “Save some smores for me!” She called out.
That left River and Willow sitting on the log again. “That was a very interesting way of interpreting it,” Willow told River. “Let’s see if things go that way.”
A Tragedy camper rushed to River. “Thriller has warred us! They were all waiting on the edge of the forest for when it’s the next day in UTC to make sure they were the first cabin to war us, we’ve got to start writing!”
Willow and River jumped to their feet and ran into the direction of where the Thriller campers were.

Words: 678

Total Words: 1318

Daily 16, 3/16/24: Another SWCers life

In the morning, I wake up, after a long night’s rest. I shower, get dressed, and I have my breakfast. Today is cabin wars, so even though I have a basketball meet, I have to make sure that I put away some time to write. I’m a slow eater, and I read as I eat, so it usually takes me half an hour to finish.
After that, I get ready for it to be the next SWC day, in UTC that is. I already have a war copied and pasted, just for my favorite enemy cabin Epistolary. It’s always fun to see who can war which cabin first, and I am always in the game.
Once it’s the next day, I copy and paste the war into the Epistolary Cabin, but to my dismay, someone has already warred them. Sighing in disappointment, I have nothing else to do but start on my writing homework.
As I check my cabin’s comments, I notice that someone from Epistolary has warred us. I grin in delight as I start writing away. I’ve always loved informational writing, and have never been very good at fictional writing, so doing writing homework for cabin wars was the ideal day for me.
Finishing the last sentence of my essay, I stretch my arms in delight and complete the war. I decided to go on a walk outside my apartment, to relax a bit, before having to go back to writing and then to basketball.
Everything is so cool and fresh outside, and it almost makes me forget all my worries of losing any wars. It’s usually very cold outside, and today it was a bit warmer. After a while, I go back in, to my sanctuary of a room, and start typing again. I have to get through the day, I tell myself.

Total words: 306

Daily 3/19/24, Thesarus and words daily

The room was quiet, except for the footsteps of the two people that echoed in the great expanse of a hall. Intricate mosaics lined the walls, the moon shining through the colored glass, basking the marble floor in a warm light. It seemed as if the place was a person, a siren, bewitching anyone who came near it.
Exactly why these two people were there. They acted without speaking, as if they already knew what to do ahead of time, and were only doing what they were supposed to do. It had been said that this grand hall had secrets that only the smartest and most enigmatic people of all time could uncover. The rewards were rich, the fame great. But this was just another day for the hall, something tainted with dark magic, cursed to destroy the lives of whoever came in.
The moon seemed to shine with an even brighter light, somehow it seemed as if the light was a kind of magic, a kind of uncontrollable power. One of the people gasped. The hall had become longer, as if it was telling them to walk in, closer, closer, until they stepped right into the cleverly placed trap.
They walked, faster, faster, as if chasing something that only they could see. The faster they walked, the more the hall grew. It seemed to be never-ending, but they were sure that they could find it, the treasure, looking like madmen searching for nothing.
A strange hum came from around them, a soft melody, and it softened the senses of those two. The more they listened the more they grew anxious, the more the magic seeped into their bodies. Until they were only a shell of a human, controlled by magic, no longer anything anymore.
Their cries turned ragged, until they dissolved into the air, for the room to feed on. For the room to see another day. The room seemed to shrink again, the music slowing down to a halt, the moonlight disappearing into the sky, and the doors open, waiting for their next prey.
It is said that if you come here by day, nothing will seem out of place, nothing will seem strange to you. It’s also been said that even in the morning, no one has seen the light of day after walking into the strange room. It appears in different places every day, only the most determined can find it, only to be met with dismay and death. The cycle continues, and the message is clear. Don’t seek things that you know that are out of your reach. Exactly what the room does.

Total words: 438

Daily 20, 3/20/24: Villain Daily


Total words: 438

Daily 21, 3/20/24: Thing I love Poem

The keys type furiously then
Stop
Then
Start again,
As I figure out
What I’m supposed to be writing
Internally biting my
Nails
Worrying whether or not my
Piece
Is good, or
If it was bad. If it wasn’t
Worthy
But that’s exactly what I love
About writing
About the stress
About the ideas that
Fly
In my mind,
That roam freely
Until I lasso them in
And put them on paper.
And then edit
And then stress again
And then cry internally,
Just to worry about what is right and wrong
To worry about whether I really should be writing
Or if I should just give up
I’m not really sure how good I am
But I want to continue,
Even if I’m not good
Never felt something so strong
But nevertheless,
The keys continue to clack,
My back continues to ache,
And I continue to write.
I write and write,
Hoping that one day
I’ll get the recognition I’ve always craved.
Writing lead to thoughts
Worries about how
I’m going to get into a college
How I’m not good at anything
How no one would want me
But when I write
I forget
And instead of me chastising myself,
The only thing I can hear
Is
The clack of the keyboard.

Total words: 213

Critique this:

“My hero”

My
/mī/, determiner
Belonging to or associated with the speaker.

I had the pleasure of gracing his presence for the first time at 6 pm on the clock, on a Friday. It was me, not anyone else, walking down that dark alleyway after a long day at work. Why I was walking down an alleyway? Something strange drew me in.
A thought was imprinted in my mind, as it was all the time. I was unimportant, I gave the world a burden by existing. I should just go. It didn’t help that some people made sure to remind me every day.
“You’ve never done a single thing in your life. How do you live with all this boredom? It’s no wonder you don’t have any friends,” One of my coworkers had sneered at me. “What’s the point in you living?” He had then thrown me across the floor, much to the ignorance of our boss, who was somewhere drinking his sorrows away.
Sometimes, I find myself admiring the lives of them. My boss, my coworkers, their lives, no matter how sad or tragic, were lives. Mine, on the other hand, could only be described as a shell of emptiness.
A strangled gurgle came from a shadowed corner, and I lept back, in a sudden surprise, knocking me out of my daydream. “Help me, please,” a broken voice spoke.
I looked cautiously around, before spotting a quivering figure hiding behind a tattered box. Gingerly, I moved the box to the side, revealing a dirty and musty person. His eyes were full of hope as he noticed me, his hair full of dirt, his body smelling of rot, decay, and blood, and his hands weak and shaking. He seemed to be muttering something over and over, but I couldn’t quite catch what he was saying.
“Can you help me?” He seemed as if he could faint at any second. There were scrapes and bruises on his side. I winced in sympathy. “Please help me,” he cried desperately. “Please.”
This was it, I thought to myself. This was where my life could become interesting, I could help someone! “Come with me, I’ll bring you to my home,” I told him excitedly.
The man started to speak but was cut off by exhaustion. He collapsed on the floor with a thud. It looked like he was on his last string of life.
I rushed to pick him up. He wasn’t heavy at all, on the contrary very thin. Perhaps he didn’t have much to eat, I mused. “I’ll bring you home,” I repeated. “Then we’ll see what we need to do.”
The man, with the last ounce of strength he had, spoke in a ragged breath. “Thank you. You’re my hero,” before losing all consciousness.
I stared at the man in my arms in shock. No one had ever called me a “hero”, and here he was, someone I’d just met, calling me “his hero”. A surge of warmth rushed through me. I’m his hero, I told myself confidently. I can fix this. I can make him feel better.
I brought him home, washed him up, and let him rest on a spare mattress I had. After a while, he woke up. “Thank you for your kindness,” he told me. “I won’t be in your hair for too long, but would you mind me staying for a while?”
I smiled and told him I didn’t mind.
That “while” turned into months, turned into years that he spent next to me. I never understood why he chose to live with me for all those years, instead of someone better. Someone more worthy of someone like him.
He was kind to me, he talked to me, and I felt as if I had a friend, something that I’d never experienced before. He always thought of me, always grateful for the little act that I did years ago.
He wasn’t only a good person to me, he helped others, saved others, and talked to others without any trace of fear. Things I would never dare to do. Soon, people started calling him their “hero”. It was a well-deserved title. If you knew how much he helped a no-name town like us, you would’ve understood. Everyone understood who he was. A savior. A hero. Their hero.
Soon everyone wanted a piece of him, he would disappear during the day and only come home at night, with his face flushed and cheeks red. Soon he had hundreds of people waiting to talk to him, begging him to give him a second of his time. Who was I to argue with a person who I didn’t even deserve to be in the presence of?
“I got a few drinks, it was on the house. I was talking to a few friends, I hope you don’t mind,” he grinned, eyes as bright and full of life. He was happy, and I wasn’t.
They took him away, a whisper came from the depths of my brain. They took him away from you, just like everything else. He was yours, but now he will never be. It’s just the way things go.
They were probably talking about how amazing he was, how brave he was, how lucky they were to have him. They were probably thanking him for defeating those monsters a few days ago on the outskirts of town. Everybody loved him.
But I loved him first. I took care of him first, doesn’t that mean something? Doesn’t that matter?
Soon I wouldn’t see him at all, the townspeople begging him to stay at their house for a while, to meet their family. He had changed from that helpless quivering ball all those years ago, to someone everyone wanted around. To someone, everyone wanted a piece of. He barely even acknowledged me anymore. It wasn’t his fault, of course, he had better things to do than to worry about me. He was still there, coming in from time to time, but I’d never see him. As if I wasn’t important enough. As if I wasn’t deserving enough. I understand, I was never deserving enough for someone that wonderful. I never will.
Then, everything changed. It was another day coming back from work, a Monday to be exact. Mondays were always bad luck. This day was no exception. I passed the pub on my way home, and a new poster was hanging from the town bulletin board. “WANTED: ALIVE OR DEAD”, it said in big bold letters, and it drew me in. I stopped to look at it, and what I saw was that man’s face, smiling, grinning, no smirking, with a fifty-thousand krut bounty below it.
“Did you hear? That man, he’s wanted in Theris, and now they’ve come here to search for him!” One of the passersby whispered to their friends. “It’s a shame that it came out this way, he was a good person. He saved my child from the flu, he was my hero.”
My hero. Those two words again. They sounded the same as they were those many years ago, in that dark alleyway. But those words probably mean nothing to them, when they can say them so casually. Not me, never me. When I went home, there was no trace of him. All his belongings were gone. He probably already fled to somewhere else. There was no note, nothing, to thank me for my years of kindness. It made me mad, how easy was it for him to just disappear like that after he meant so much to so many people? Me, on the other hand, if I was him, I would’ve stayed and treasured my last moments here. I would find him and make him pay.
I gave up my life, everything I held dear, to travel the world, in hopes of finding him. I left my family, my friends, to find him, because he took something for granted that I never would. It’s strange, thinking back to my decision. Why did I do it?
But now, here I am, after years that could no longer remember, after I had grown old and wizened with the knowledge I collected from journeying the world, I’d found him. And now, standing here, it feels so bittersweet, because both of us know what’s going to happen. Basking in the moonlight, standing on a cliff, looking down onto the sea. The woods surround us every which way.
“Why?” I ask, choked up with tears. “Why did you leave?”
He sighs. “I’m not a good person. You are. You took me in, even though I was a robber, a criminal, a monster. I thought that if I escaped somewhere else, I could rewrite my destiny and help others pay for what I’ve done in the past. But the past catches up to you. So I ran from it. But now, it’s back. I know I can’t run anymore. My life is filled with loneliness and pain, so why continue?” He gives me a soft smile, weathered by age.
I felt so angry. So angry that he could smile over what he’d done. So angry about everything. So angry that he’d taken my life, and made me waste it on him, but it’d all end now, wouldn’t it? “Before I have to do what I have to do, let me ask you something,” I whisper my question into his ear.
He smiles again and whispers back.
And then I push him.

The inconceivable past where I can no longer stray on.

“Hey! I didn’t quite catch your name!” A blurry face is talking to him. “I wanted to thank you for helping me pay my debt!”
He looks at the face with a sad expression. “The name I was chosen for had high expectations for me. Unfortunately, I have not lived up to those expectations. Only then will that name be worthy of me. I hope you understand my strange request.”
The blurry face nods. “I won’t pry further if you don’t want me to.”

Back to the ruined future, which I could never change.

I asked him, “Who are you? What is your name? After all my time with you, I still don’t know a single thing about you. It’s funny, isn’t it?”
As if he’d already known what was going to come, he looked up at the stars, his eyes shining as brightly as them. “I am a person just like you. I have done many terrible wrongs, and no matter how hard I try to be good. I know I never will be. My future was laid out for me before I could decide. I am no Hero, as my name claims to be. You were a better person than me, you were a better Hero. You will always be my Hero. But it didn’t do you any good to save me, did it? It caused you more misfortune because of that. It left you for others, I was never truly grateful to those who were truly kind to me. That’s why I don’t deserve all the praise, that’s why I understand what you’re going to do.”
I was surprised. How did he know? But before I could react, my body chose to move on its own, and now he was gone, six feet underwater, no way he could come back. And so I sit there, on the soft ground, staring up at the sky, clenching my fists, unclenching them, and clenching them again. Thinking of what I did. I couldn’t let the guilt bring me even further down. It was what I was meant to do, what I was supposed to do.
In the night, I think I saw a misty image of him, fading away before me, grinning with that all-knowing smirk I knew too much. The one that had haunted my sleep for such a long time. All-knowing till the end. He knew that none of us were heroes, no matter how hard we tried.
To this day I am still confused. What truly is a hero, and what makes a person one, when someone who seemed that wonderful, wasn’t a hero?

Hero
/hirō, hērō/ noun
a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.

But he was my hero first.

Critique for Crim!

He wouldn’t need a ride home. But thank you for the offer.

I love how you start the story, it feels as if there’s so much silence between the three sentences, but I would perhaps recommend switching the period in the sentence above to a comma, I just feel as if it would flow better that way!

He trudged along under the clouds

Just a grammatical error, I believe you have to add a comma right after along. But of course, I'm bad with commas so this might not be true, just for me it sounds smoother!

He couldn’t have said whether any of them returned the gesture.

I love how it implies that he wasn’t focusing on any of the people, and was only mildly aware of their presence and only responded to that, great job here!

his mind was still stuck back there.

You could add on to ‘there’, for example, ‘his mind was still stuck back there, in the dreary office.’ (Since I’m commenting as I read, I don’t know where he works, but that would just be an example)

He barely registered it except to make a mental note to get rid of it later. It wasn’t of any use to him, as he couldn’t afford to fix it.

I want to know why it’s still there :0

Random note, but I notice that you’ve been saying Kieran a lot, and the whole smoothness of the piece could help with more he's than Kierans ^^ On the other hand, there are a lot of his and he and him to so maybe trying to change the sentences, for example, I’ll rewrite a sentence you wrote, which was “Kieran rushed back to his bedroom as the pan warmed up, tossing his shirt in the laundry and tugging on a plain white t-shirt instead.”, and now it’ll be “Rushing back to his bedroom as the pan warmed up, he tossed his shirt in the laundry and tugged on a plain white t-shirt instead.” It makes it sound better in my opinion, and you need a variety of sentences to keep the reader interested!

like paper with no words yet written

You could add on to that by saying ‘with no words yet written on it.’ or if you want to be even more descriptive since this is a great chance, ‘with no words yet written on the wide expanse.

Thirty minutes later, someone else stopped by. (Matt. He thought.)

The last part with the parentheses feels like there’s something missing, maybe removing them would be better, or removing the period to make the sentence flow more, or adding some more words, I just have the gut feeling that something should be changed, if that makes sense ^^

broken bike, distorted by the rain drops

I thought that the bicycle was inside the apartment, so if you want it to be outside, and maybe to add further meaning, you could say that he finally decided to move the bike, and he stops and pauses in the middle of the rain, bike in his hand, that he should’ve accepted Matt’s offer.

Takeaway:

Overall the story seems to have a very good base and the plot’s general idea is fabulous, after reading this without any word from you about what the story is about, I would say the moral/theme of the story is to take your chances, even if you’re scared, don’t hide behind the curtain all the time, loosen up, because someday you may realize that all those opportunities that seemed for granted can disappear in a snap of an eye, and be grateful for what you have. The hints at the deeper meaning are very subtle, and it can take some time for the reader to understand what they were supposed to take away, which in some cases can be good and bad. The way it is written makes the mood seem not exactly dull in a bad way, but dull in the way that kind of entices me and encourages me to continue reading. Whilst I do enjoy the interactions Kieran has with others, I would feel a lot better if you could show more of Kieran’s own internal thoughts about these interactions, deeper than what you’ve grazed. Instead of just stating facts about Kieran’s life and him noting them, I’d like to see more development throughout his character as in the end of the story Kieran has definitely changed from the person he was in the beginning, and that may help readers that don’t always see the true meaning of the story at first glance to enjoy the read more and be closer to Kieran, as he is the main character. The people Kieran interact to, we don’t know a lot about any of them, which also can be good and bad, good in the way it fits the writing of the story, dull and honestly kind of self-centered around Kieran (in a good way), but if you’re going to mainly center all the attention on what Kieran is about, then I’d advise you to do more of it, as the bad is that Kieran is the only person we know more than a smidge of information about, which may make it boring to the reader, but again it also emphasizes the difference of this piece of writing from other pieces of literature, and again fits the mood and tone of the story. This was overall a great read, and I’m sure the judges will agree <3

total words: 918

Daily 22, 3/22/24: Fallacy daily


The winds blew every which way as I walked through the park. The trees were dead an barren, their weak branches clinging on lifelessly to the trunk. The air whistled a low warning, as to tell me to leave. I did not heed that warning.
As I walked into the inner circle of the garden, I could see that it was unkempt, messy, and long abandoned. The onces brilliantly red roses now had wilted into the ground, some fallen, some long gone. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach, as I saw a group of bees and their nest laying on the ground, as if it had fallen from a tall tree, and the bees had starved to death.
It seemed as if there wasn’t a single living being past the creaky and rusted metal gates that I had strode through with confidence. Now, I wasn’t feeling so sure about this. But I knew I had to find it, and that I couldn’t leave now.
The paved stone path had rocks that had come out from the cement casing that had trapped them long before, as if they were waiting to trip someone, but not maliciously, instead as a warning for the person to leave. A warning that I, again, ignored.
Litter scatted the ground, and flopped along their path as the gusts of wind continued to relentlessly pound on them. It was hard not to get hit by a flying projectile, let it be a stick that is almost disintegrated, or an empty can of Pringles that was left by a soul who didn’t care enough to throw it away.

total words: 271

Weekly Three, 3/23/24

Exposition:

Starts at the scene of the crime, when the anonymous perpetrator kidnaps a celebrity. The celebrity realizes who it is too late, and is knocked unconscious. The scene cuts to the celebrity’s manager telling the main character, someone who was helping the celebrity get ready to help investigate this case as the main character must know a few things about the celebrity as they are friends and the kidnap seemed to be for a personal reason. The main character takes on the case once they hear that there is money involved. The setting is flipped again to the kidnapper, and they seem to know a lot about the main character, and through what they know, we know things about the main character.

Rising action:
The kidnapper leaves a message for the main character to follow, knowing that they will do so. The main character is unaware that they are playing right into the kidnapper’s hands, as their little adventure brings them around the town, something that the main character usually never does. It is revealed that the main character is very antisocial, and the only person who talks to her is the celebrity, who is always kind and trusting to the main character, but the main character never gives anything back. The main character realizes that now they have to get the celebrity back and figure out who the kidnapper is because of how much they owe them. The scavenger hunt for clues ends at a place very dear to the main character.

Climax:

The main character figures it out at the end, but is too shocked to do anything, and can only watch as their sibling tells the main character what they did to the celebrity. It apparently didn’t end up well. The main character spurns the sibling but is too scared that their sibling is a bit crazy in the head, so they try to find a way out of it, but the sibling is very smart and somehow weaves together a story of how the main character was actually the killer and the main character is arrested by the cops when they come.

Falling action:

The main character ends up in jail, too tired to fight back. The sibling visits and admits that seeing the main character in jail wasn’t enough, and frees them but poisons them into the end and acts as if it was self-attempted. In the main character’s final moments, there is nothing but regret for the life they lived and how they ended up here.

Resolution:

It cuts to twenty years later, with the sibling narrating. It turns out that it wasn’t enough, and that the sibling slowly became crazy after what they did to the celebrity and the main character, they are unhappy with their life and wish that none of this happened and that they could be happy, like before the celebrity came and ruined everything. The sibling wishes that the main character never had another friend like the sibling.
Total words: 500

List of red herrings + clues :
When the kidnapper leads the main character into a place that is very special to the main character and their sibling, near a lake where they used to have picnics. This hints as to who the kidnapper is because only the main character’s sibling knew about their secret hideout. After all, it was special only to them as it was long abandoned by others, also symbolizing the way that they were always given scraps of what others had.
The celebrity’s manager seems very suspicious, they are always stammering and sound very nervous when talking to the main character about how they have to help find out where the celebrity is. The main character suspects that it’s the manager at first because they were very strange and seemed as if they knew something, but it was only because of how important the celebrity was to him as she was his main income of money and had an alibi when the celebrity was kidnapped and was nowhere near where she was kidnapped either.
A strange note is left in the kidnapping scene, addressed to the main character. This is very suspicious as that means that the kidnapper only wanted the main character to search through the crime scene and the handwriting seemed very familiar, causing the main character to suspect the people closest to them.
As the main character walks outside the building of the crime scene, they spot a recently graffitied wall with the words “No one” The main character suspects that this clue is hinting to them that no one kidnapped the celebrity, and it was herself that staged it so that the money wanted for finding her would go to someone that she paid to “find” her and then they would give part of it to the celebrity. The main character later brushes this away as they know that the celebrity would never do something like that for money. Technically, the graffiti is totally irrelevant to the case.
The main character finds out that the celebrity has been secretly talking to their sibling, which arouses suspicion around the sibling as it was also said that they were talking right before the kidnapping, but the celebrity didn’t seem nervous or stressed out when talking to the sibling, and the sibling didn’t seem as if they were going to kidnap the celebrity. This still causes the main character to look into their sibling.

Words: 402

Interview with @Strawberry-Lemon

Well hello there. I assume you know what you are here for?
I actually don't… where am I? The last thing I remember was- wait I can't say that, sorry. Is there a particular reason why you're asking me this? I'm afraid that I totally have nothing to do with whatever strange scenario has happened. *cough cough* arson *cough cough*
The fire that has affected many SWC-ers was set off near where you were last known to be located. Please tell us —as it is important to finding the culprit — all that you remember of the time. All we have discovered so far is a mango, which was located near the scene of the crime.
Oh, that must be our gang's symbol- I mean I have no idea what a mango is, what's a mango? I briefly recall an explosion, but that was it. I remember seeing people, and that they set the fire, and it's all the truth, I swear.
Oh, so you admit you were part of the gang that set off the fire? And there was an explosion… interesting… Do you happen to know anything about why the fire was set off at the main cabin?
well all I know is that I um… overheard… some people talking about a mango-powered gasoline explosion that would send the main cabin into chaos. And no, I'm not in a gang! What's a gang? There would be no reason as to why I'd be in a gang, other than being first in the leaderboard…
Hm… so you know a surprising amount of information for an innocent witness… Do you happen to know any of the people involved in the explosion? And where is the supply of mangoes coming from?
Well, I was just near enough to hear all of it, that's it. There's nothing suspicious about that, right? I'm not exactly sure, but I know that they were probably part of a gang, and that the mangoes were illegally traded in through a strange black market. If I give you everything I know, can I be free? I only know so much because I just /happened/ to be there when the explosion took place, if you're wondering.
The information you have given me so far seems to be fairy accurate from what the rest of our team has been finding… Even if it doesn’t seem entirely complete… If you tell us everything that you know about anything that may be related to the incident, then we will conclude the interview and let you be on your way.
Yes! Ok, ok, so basically there's this gang called the Mango Abominations and they're mad at SWC because they have stolen most of their mangoes, so to show who's the boss, the Mango Abomination Gang decided to cause chaos in the main cabin. There should be a ransom note for gurtle as I believe they have also stolen the turtle, and in exchange for gurtle they'll need all the mangoes SWC has.

Words: 499

Mystery Scene

“Who could’ve done something so evil like this?” The celebrity’s manager asked me, but instead of looking shocked and horrified, he was fidgeting with his hands, and trying not to look in my direction.
I sighed. “So what do you want me to do?”
“You’re close with Laney, right? You might know the ulterior motives to whoever’s behind this kidnapping, and you’ll probably figure this out faster than the officials can.” He told me.
I snorted. “I doubt that. The only qualification I have is a certificate that I can flip burgers at McDonalds. Yes, Laney and I were friends, I guess, but I bet there are a bunch more celebrities that know her a lot more than me.”
“But here’s the thing, those celebrities don’t care as much about Laney as you do, and even Laney has told me myself,” he stuttered through words every few sentences. “And you, unlike those celebrities, need money, right?”
I smiled. “How much are we talking?” It was true, I did need a lot of money. The jobs I had, just didn’t pay enough. Even though Laney was an awesome boss, it wouldn’t be fair for her to pay janitors a lot of money. I needed to help myself and my sister in any way possible.
“A few million dollars if you find her, is that alright?” He asked nervously.
I didn’t want to take the risk and ask for more money, as that was already a very big amount. “Sure! I’ll take it! So when do I start?”
“I think now, we have two separate groups trying to find her. You’re one of them, and we've also hired the authorities and private investigators to find her too. If you find her before them, you’ll get the money.”
I ran out of the room as fast as possible, knowing exactly where I was going to go. The place where the crime had happened. Even though it was a small chance, there might’ve been some places that were overlooked, maybe there were clues there as to who kidnapped Laney. I had my suspicions about her manager, as he was acting very strange. I couldn’t say for sure, though. I had to find evidence first.
As I arrived, panting and out of breath, the first thing I saw was how messy the makeup room was. There was lipstick, blush, powder, papers, and curtains, scattered everywhere. “It’s no wonder they knew it was a kidnapping,” I muttered. It definitely didn’t seem like Laney went along silently, but somehow no one came to her aid. I, on the other hand, was across the city when the kidnapping happened, and had only heard about it a few days later. At first, they wanted to keep it under wraps, but with too many concerned fans asking about her, they decided that telling everyone what happened would be better than the fans themselves making up crazy rumors.
As I sifted through all the junk, I spotted a strange note with familiar handwriting. Was it Laney’s? No, I shook my head. Her handwriting was a lot more messy, this one was neat and loopy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen this handwriting before.
I started to read out loud. “I know you’re here, Jaiden, and I know you want to find me. Follow the clues that I have left, and soon you will reach the terrible end. But before that, I want you to know who I am, and you do. But I want you to know about all the pain and suffering you’ve caused. Keep searching.”

Words: 598

Total words in weekly: 2000

Daily 24, 3/24/24: My Personal Hobbit Hole

Walk into the small hill, looking at the strange flowers that grow outside of it, looking as if they were a shield, protecting the home from any evildoers. Open the weathered door with tinted glass and a small bell, proclaiming your visit. Notice that there is a welcome mat in front of the door, clean and neat.
Look into the hobbit hole and see the first room, cozy and small. A fire crackles on one side of the room, with an abundance of logs next to it. Two bookshelves stand next to each other, one of them holding weathered tomes of novels, most of them looking unread with dust over most of the covers. The other one holds newer books, that all seem to be heavily loved, there is one missing, on a little stool on the rug right in front of the warm fire.
Behind the rug is a comfy couch a very dark purple, with stuffing coming out of one of its sides. Two pillows that seem as if they were hand-quilted, very messy and unprofessional, but it seems as if they are squeezed every night as someone reads books by the fire.
Drawings are hung up from every side of the walls, some are drawn by the owner of the house, and some seem to be secured by the owner, each one in a beautiful frame hung with love. The ceiling is very low, but it doesn’t seem as if it’s going to fall down at any second. A pot with a few plants is near the door with a watering can next to it and a shovel. There is a tea set on the table on top of the blue rug in front of the fireplace with a cup that already has tea in it, steaming hot, waiting for someone to drink it.
A gap in the room leads to the kitchen and dining room, combined to be one. A small wooden table with two wooden chairs is pushed to the side while the main actor of the show, the old and creaky stove is in the middle, along with a cabinet full of dining ware and a sink that constantly drips water.
Fresh vegetables, meats, and grains are stored out in the open and seem to be prepared to be cooked. A few bags lie here and there. The dirt ground looks especially uneven in this room, compared to the bathroom which can be accessed by walking through a small tarp in the living room.
A small shower, sink, and toilet comprise the little room. There seem to be minimal decorations here, only a bar of soap, toilet paper, a cup, toothpaste, and a toothbrush. A magazine-like book sits underneath the toilet.
The last room, the bedroom has a twin bed with two pillows and a messy and wrinkled blanket that the owner neglected to fold. Another bookshelf is here, full of the owner’s favorite books, and one that they are currently reading. A small drawer holds the owner’s clothes and a desk has all that the owner needs, a pencil, snacks, and little ornaments.

Total words: 520

Daily 25, 3/25/24: Holi, Color Imagery

I thought it was it. I thought we had won. Looking around at the red and pink banners, declaring our victory over the evil kingdom of Larus, I thought that we had reached our happy ending. My friends and I.
Everyone cheered as I walked through the fields, to the camp where the rest of my team was. Isabelle, Everlyn, Caine, Lea, and James were there, eagerly waiting for me. The sun was bright in the sky, sending warm hues of orange and yellow to the Earth.
“We did it! And now the king is asking for us to be advisors in his new kingdom?” Lea squealed in disbelief. “It can’t get any better!” She had joined in the celebration of happiness, wearing a bright orange bandanna with flowers printed on them. Her face wore a bright smile and she seemed as if nothing could stop her.
“Well, aren’t you going to join the celebration?” I asked her curiously. Lea had always been one to be kind and sweet, there was nothing she loved more than parties where she could help others. James and she had always been close, something that I envied, but now, since we all got our happy endings, I didn’t care as much anymore. All I cared about was that it was over.
“Of course, how could I forget about that! Come on James,” she tugged on his shirt. “Let’s go have some fun!” They ran away, hand in hand, laughing with joy. I smiled at the sight. It was so wonderful to see them happy.
“I should follow them, just in case they get in any trouble,” Isabelle laughed softly. She had always been the mother of our group, taking care of us, and healing us when we were hurt. She was the one who didn’t judge you for all your faults, and I loved her for that. She never judged me.
When the three of them disappeared, Everlyn sighed and lay on the grass, dotted with orange tulips. “Finally, some peace and quiet. We did it, didn’t we?” She looked up lazily at me. “Now we can go home! I’m so excited to see my parents again.”
Before I could speak, screams rang out from the direction that Isabelle, James, and Lea had gone. I turned around immediately, but all I could see was the sun setting over the horizon, the shades of orange and pink finally gone. Instead, purples and blues came, overwhelming my senses. The sky was dark, not a star to be seen.
“It’s an attack!” Someone shouted. “Three people are seriously hurt!”
Before they finished their sentence, I ran as fast as I could to them. James, Lea, and Isabelle lay on the ground. Above them was a masked stranger, holding a flag. “It’s not over! We will prevail! Surrender now and join our forces unless you want to be like those three.”
Around me, other black-clad figures came, blocking anyone from escaping. Slowly but surely, everyone started raising their hands. The orange bandannas fell to the ground. They kicked and spat at Isabelle, James, and Lea, who were now surely gone.
I couldn’t do anything but watch hopelessly, and surrender too. It was over. We never thought that they’d come and try to attack us again. We’d let our guards down, and now, they were gone. I would probably be gone the next day.
I was never meant to win.
I was never meant to win.
I was never meant to win.
The darkness engulfs me, as the voices that I had tried to prevent from coming out burst through my eardrums, telling me that I never could’ve changed my fate.
I was never meant to win.

Total words: 618

Daily 26, 3/26/24: Swapping Roles in Fan-fi

Luke groaned. He couldn’t believe it. Out of all people, why did it have to be Percy? Wasn’t he the one that taught Luke so much about not giving up on the gods and not losing your way? So why was it, that he was the first one to join Kronos. Heck, Luke expected that he himself would go to the darkside first.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Percy looked down, as if ashamed of himself. “I too once truly believed what I told you, but after my journey across the world, I realized that the gods are nothing but petty, useless people. The only reason why they are still relevant today is because they cling to whatever power they can find, no matter what that means to others.”
Luke suddenly noticed that Annabeth and Grover, Percy’s two best friends were nowhere to be found. “Where’s Annabeth?” He panicked, and from the solemn look Percy gave him, he found tears welling up in his eyes.
“Her mother took her. Told her she was a disgrace. She broke down mentally. Do you see why, now?”
“But that doesn’t mean you have to go to Kronos’ side! Do you know what he will do to the world?” Luke asked, sobbing now.
“Who cares? He’s the only one with enough power to challenge the gods. And nothing can be worse than what the world is now. He is the Lord of Time, Luke. He can revive both Annabeth and Grover. We can all live happily ever after together. He promised me that. So won’t you come and join me?” Percy asked, outstretching a hand to Luke.
Luke clutched onto Backbiter, as if he couldn’t afford to let go. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse your proposition. How about we settle this in a nice and clean way?”
Percy smirked. “I never should’ve given you that life lesson. Deal.”

Total words: 315

Weekly 4

Drunk on moonlight

Outline:

The theme revolves around how no matter how much misfortune you have in your life, you can always find the littlest things to take joy out of. Whether or not you’re alone, you can be happy. This is shown through the main character mentally struggling at the beginning, but then as they go outside into the garden and reminisce their memories, they start to feel free and joyful, dancing by themselves in the garden, drunk on moonlight and remembrance. In the beginning, they also find themselves slowly going crazy, just sitting there and doing nothing, and they know if they don’t do something, nothing will ever change. So they change. While in the garden dancing, they also think of their future, and how they’ll change it, but most of all, they’re thinking about how wonderful it is, in the silence of the night, to dance and be free from all mortal bonds, whatever’s holding them back, they let it go and don’t look back. Someone who has actually liked them for a while, looks out at them, as they live in the same apartment, and decides to dance together. This sends an unspoken message, and both of them understand that they’ll be there for each other, no matter what happens.

210 words

Exposition:
“Mom, when are you going to kick her out?” A bratty voice pleaded. “She does nothing but annoy me, and she doesn’t even do the chores right!”
“Honey, in a year she’ll be gone. I made a promise to my sister to take care of her, but once that’s over, she’s out. You won’t have to worry about her for very long.”
I left a year before I was supposed to. I thought that my aunt, cousin, and uncle truly loved me and that they were kind to me because they wanted to. Not because they had to. As for everything they made me do, I had just assumed that was how all family households rolled.
Now, with my writing career at its peak, they decide to call me back and ask for money.
“We raised you, and now you’re going to repay us with nothing?” My aunt chastised me over the phone. “I can’t believe we raised you like this!”
I held back my tongue. No, I wanted to tell them. You raised me exactly like this. To learn to be selfish and mean, grudging and guarded. I’m just doing what you did to me. But it doesn’t seem right, it never did to me, did it?

208 words

Ingredients I have chosen:
New POV (Fire)
New character introduction (Jim Flabdsz)
Diary Section (Among Us)
Flashback (Smarlls
Introduce A Symbol (Frying Pan)

I look back at the letter I’m writing to Amelia, a friend of mine. I don’t have a lot of friends, and the ones I do are somewhere across the country, living their lives to the fullest while I’m here in a dreary old apartment, slaving my days away, cursed to be good at something I hate, cursed to be terrible at something I love.
Dear Amelia,
How are you? I heard that you’ve already got a family, how lucky! I wish I had someone living with me, someone who I could call mine. Do you have any spare peopl-
I crumple up the half-written letter. My brain was really getting to me. I sounded like a lunatic. Maybe it was because it was one a.m in the morning. Maybe it was because I’d always hated the night, because it’d always reminded me of my past, of my parents.
I hugged my bedsheets, trying not to listen to the loud voices outside my room, but I couldn’t help but hear them. “We can’t keep her in for too long. We need to contact the orphanage and get her some place else.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Another voice asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with her. That’s precisely the problem. She’s too quiet, too meek, too boring. I want a kid that lights up my life, not someone who dulls it.”
I’m not sure if they purposely meant for me to hear it, but it seemed like they did. Soon, I would hear that over and over and over again, even in my final home, with my mom’s distant sister. No one wanted me. I was too boring.
The only thing that ever brought me joy, was- I look out of my blurry bedroom window, into the courtyard full of flowers. The moon is bright tonight. It shines relentlessly onto the garden’s ground, bathing it in a warm glow.
In a few minutes, I’m down there, barefoot, in my pajamas. I smile, and raise my arms in joy. I can finally dance here, with no one judging me. I throw the crumpled paper down onto the ground, kicking it somewhere that no one can find it in. No whispers of “Why is she even here?”, or “She’s terrible at this, she should just quit now.” Just silence.
I take a deep breath, and dance, drunk on moonlight and spontaenity. I twirl and spin, not caring a single bit about whether it’s right, or wrong. Whether others will judge me for it, or not. I just dance.


She’s a sight to behold, spinning around in her pajamas. I always knew she’d be an interesting one, when she moved in and we had a house party, the only people she talked to were the elderly old lady who contributed most of the food and gave me the stink eye.
I’d sat there confused. Most people would’ve gone up to me, looked me up and down, and then smiled flirtatiously. She, on the other hand, seemed to want to avoid me, not just avoid me, but hate me too. After that, I kept my eye on her to see if she’d do anything else interesting.
I had just happened to wake up and saw her running into the courtyard, and here I am, hiding behind a wall. Me out of all people, hiding behind a way, looking at her. In the moonlight, she seemed etheral, elegant, and beautiful. The way she danced, although it was very different from the ways people dance now, it was its own kind of wonderful.
So I walk towards her, smiling at her peaceful expression as she closes her eyes. Before I can grab her hand and surprise her, I notice that she dropped a piece of crumpled paper on the ground. I bend down to pick it up, and when I’m standing again, her eyes are open and she looks mortified.
Instead of doing what I thought I would, I pocked the paper for now, extend a hand, and ask. “May I have this dance?”
She glares at me, trying to figure out of I have good intentions or not. Finally, she grudgingly accepts the hand, and I twirl her away. Having a pretty face, I was always forced into the arts, when what I wanted was to be an engineer. Your beautiful body would go to waste, they told me. I listened. I danced, I modeled, and I talked.
Her arms slowly relax under my grip, and so do my hands. I think the moonlight is getting to me, because I become even more daring and whirl her around the courtyard. She lets out a giggle of excitement, and I smile back. I’ve never felt so exhilarated in my life.
The dance ends as fast as it starts, and I bow in front of her. “I believe you forgot this,” I tell her, taking out the crumpled paper from my pants.
She smiles. “Thanks, I”ll take it back.”
That night, it seemed as if nothing ever mattered, but after that, we never saw each other again. It was like a promised had been fulfilled. It was like a curiosity had been quelled. It was like I was drunk on moonlight that night.

That man, I never expected him to be there. I thought he was about to have a snarky remark about how I danced, or ask me why I was out here, but he didn’t. He asked me to dance. It was like we both had the same understanding, and that was all.
Because that was all. I don’t know if he wished for it to be more, for me to talk to him the next day, grab a cup of coffee, maybe have some lunch. But I was never that person. I was never the person that would do that. He did seem like that kind of person, and maybe I was hoping for him to ask me, but he didn’t.
Maybe that night it was just different. Maybe we will never talk again, we were never relevant in each others lives. Maybe it was too good to be true. But there is one thing that I do know. We were drunk on moonlight.

1039 words

Total words: 1457

Daily 27, 3/27/24: Google Translate Song Daily (Feels like we're just mocking google at this point)

I looked around nervously at the dance floor. Hopefully he wouldn’t find me, definitely not in these crowds, and definitely not after the fact that I’m wearing a whole face mask that makes me look like a very old lady who just so happens to love partying. Maybe this would make him go in that line. If he couldn’t find me, he might as well line up without me.
Spotting him in the distance, I tried to hide myself as far away from him. We had been dancing the whole night, but when a famous celebrity comes and everyone asks for signatures, I’m too embarrassed to go up, but of course he isn’t. The thing is that he wanted me to go up with him, even though it’s the famous Bozart, someone who I would never dare to talk to.
Realizing that the only way I could get out of this situation, I ran into the bathroom and took out my handy dandy face mask that is in the shape of a chubby elderly woman with so many wrinkles that you couldn’t even see her eyes or nose. After wearing that, I got a lot of weird looks from partygoers, but every time they whispered about me, I reminded myself why I was doing this.
You’ve got to stay strong, I told myself. So that he can get the signature without you having to come. Now as he walks around, closer and closer to Bozart’s stand, I can feel my excitement growing inside of me. But instead of lining up, he goes onto the dance floor, as if he knew where I was.
I run for it, but he grabs me just in time. “Say, have you seen a girl called Holly around here?” He asked mischievously.
I groan. “Fine, you got me.”

Total words: 303

Daily 28, 3/28/24: What happens after a happily ever after?

The prince has grown distant from Cinderella. After their marriage, Cinderella often found solace outside the palace where her animal friends were. The prince was usually busy, and whenever Cinderella tried to talk with him, his attendants would inform Cinderella that he was always in some business meeting.
Cinderella had doubted the real reason for this marriage, as she’d only known the prince for a few months, and just because she was the pretty girl he danced with, she was now a princess. But she didn’t want that. What she wanted was her happy ending, and it seemed like marrying the prince was her best opportunity for happiness.
The prince certainly didn’t think so. Cinderella soon found herself thinking about what this marriage really meant to the prince. Was she really a partner to be with for the rest of his life, or was she just a formality so that the prince could get the king off his shoulders about marriage, and so that the common folk would be happy with a peasant princess?
She’d tried her best to bond with the prince, preparing picnics and walks, but even when the prince had time, he’d always seemed distant, as if he was only going along with Cinderella because he had to. It broke her heart.
One night, when Cinderella was talking to Jacques, one of her many mice companions, he informed her of something he thought was important. “Cinderelly! I saw the prince and this other girl laughing and talking to each other!”
She tried to brush it off. “They’re probably just friends,” she told Jacques. “Nothing I need to worry about.”
Turns out, there was nothing to worry about. She had to stay a princess no matter what because if there happened to be a royal divorce, it would look very bad for the royal family. So even though this girl happened to show up a lot, even dared to appear with the prince in front of Cinderella, Cinderella could do nothing about it.
She felt the same feeling as she did a few years ago when she still lived in her stepmother’s house. Jealously. Jealousy for her stepsisters, who didn’t have to do chores, and who had parents who were still alive. Jealousy, now for a girl who had just appeared and swept the prince off his feet in a day. But wasn’t that what she did to him?
The girl would disappear, and her a place, a new and prettier one. Cinderella just didn’t understand why the prince was like this. She couldn’t even blame the girls at this point. They probably had no choice but to obey the prince’s orders, just like she had to. She pitied them, and she pitied herself too.
Was this the life she had to live? Cinderella knew that it was risky, but her whole life had started because of many risky actions. Now, she thought of her fairy godmother. If she hadn’t appeared, then maybe Cinderella would’ve stayed with her stepmothers, and she wouldn’t have had to feel this heartache. No, Cinderella told herself. Instead of thinking back to the past, she’d change her future.
She ran. From her happy ending, from her handsome prince, from her happily ever after. She ran.

Total words: 542

Daily 29, 3/29/23: Write A Prologue to An Already Written Story

Change. It’s been something I’ve seen a lot throughout my years. My sister and mother were gone, my one best friend gone, my head injured, and my father busy, but now I have real friends. Min-Hyuk, Maya, and Rika are here for me. Even though Min-Hyuk is now off to college, I’m still stable.
I never want things to go back to what they were, never again. I will do anything I can to make sure of that, and I will not let anyone hurt the ones closest to me. It’s a new chapter in my life, with new people, new years, and new knowledge. But what I want most of all is to be happy, for my friends, and my dad to be happy. I want to graduate and make my dad proud. I want to get a good job, and maybe even find someone.
So I’ll try to be the best I can, even if it means having to deal with those stupid gossipers. I can never run away from them. I’m used to them at this point, but Maya and Rika aren’t, and I don’t want them to get hurt like Alyssa did.
Alyssa, one of my biggest regrets. Sometimes I wonder if it’s me that should be blamed for what happened, or her. Either way, she’s gone, and she doesn’t matter anymore. I might’ve wanted something different with her, but it’s in the past, and I can’t dwell on it.
No, I will be a new person, and I won’t have any regrets anymore. I’ll try to live my life to the fullest. Maybe it’ll be enough, I hope it will be. Maybe Dad will come back less tired, and less unhappy, and maybe we can hang out together more, and maybe he’ll be better. Maybe I’ll be better.
If anything happens, I’ll make sure to put them first and worry about other things later because they’re all that matters. Anyone who comes up will be destroyed. I know I’ve got a fiery temper and often go into things without thinking, but it works. Most of the time…
Anyways, the most important thing I want them to know is that I Love Yoo.
End. Start of Season 1

Total words: 372

Daily 30, 3/30/24: Wrong superpower daily

Why, out of all the superpowers out there, it had to b invisibility? It’s the least powerful, the least interesting, in fact literally no on can see you while you use the power, so what’s the use? I would have taken time travel, flying, super strength, super speed, anything before invisibility.
It can’t help you skip school, or help my family, or help me earn money. The only good it does is nothing. Literally nothing. I can’t find a single use for it. So when my parents ask what wonderful gift did The God of Elation, Nous give me, I would rather say that they didn’t give me anything, then to tell them that I was blessed with a terrible curse of zero power.
But then they disappeared. It had been happening some other towns, where whole families would be kidnapped by some mysterious being. I had been gone at work when I came home to discover no one there. I realized what had happened, and collapsed on the ground.
With information given from other families, I quickly figured out where they were hiding my family, and thanks to my invisibility, they were able to escape, and we put an end to all the kidnappings. Maybe my power isn’t so bad after all. Maybe it only comes to use in the darkest of times.

Total words: 224

Daily 31, 3/31/24: Thank-you-notes

Thank You Notes

Hosts -
I don’t think I say this enough, and even though I write it in a thank-you-note every session, words cannot express how grateful I am to every single one of you who take the time to make SWC a reality. I wish you the best of luck in any future endeavors, you all deserve it so much. Although I wasn’t very social with most of you, often I had to communicate with a lot of the hosts, and you seem like wonderful people. I’m sure if I ever get the chance to catch a conversation with any of you it’d be wonderful! Keep up the great work and I hope to see you all hosting next session to <3 I’ll be there!

Leaders -
Hello fellow leaders! I know how hard it is to manage a cabin, I’ve been there this session, but I want to tell you all that everys single one of you did an awesome job with all the cabins! If I was a camper, I wouldn’t know which one to pick! I know that hosts are what make SWC run, but the leaders are the ones who makes sure that every single campers has a good time. You all are amazing and talented individuals who all have awesome ideas and abilities, I wish you a great year and maybe another great session in July!

Co-leaders -
Thank you for being there and helping your cabin grow and flourish. Something I can say for sure is that without you us leaders would be lost in the dark and crying for our mental sanity while in the session. You guys are the only things that keep us together, and although it may seem like you are less important than leaders and hosts, co-leader is only a title, and what you do is more important than just being a “co-leader”. After being one for two sessions, I’ve come to realize that co-leaders are so much more than just co-leading. Although you may have less responsibilities than a leader, this allows you to do more in SWC, for example working on the MBC and the daily team, entering the writing comp two times, adding words and points, and communicating with other fellow SWC people. As a leader, it’s so much harder to have more freedom as you have so much to do, but as a co-leader, you’re free from those restrictions. I hope that all of you had a great session, and that you’re considering joining again, and maybe even applying as a leader! If so, you can do it!

Campers -
Thank you for taking the time to apply as a camper to SWC, otherwise we wouldn’t have anyone to lead, or to host, or to show fun activities to! Thank you for participating in SWC, and I can’t say it enough, I really appreciate it, and I hope you come to love SWC and writing, and maybe come back next session or tell some friends to join too!

Tragedy Campers -
So, unfortunately you didn’t make it out of the Woods, but good news, you’re alive! Just stuck here forever, unless some other group of campers finds a way to free you. It’s all part of the cycle, don’t worry, the Woods will take good care of you. Storyline aside, I want to thank you guys for choosing to be a part of this amazing cabin. As my first time leading, you will all have a special place in my heart, whether you escaped or not. I hope you had a wonderful time and will come by and visit again, maybe say hi to me and Willow and River, and if you’re planning on coming next session, I’ll definitely be there, let it be camper, co-leader, or leader again!

Zion -
Zion! Fellow Genshin and HSR buddy! Ahh I got this really cute venti bookmark from a family friend it’s so pretty! Anyways, I wasn’t very talkative this session, and you were basically the only person I talked to other than Willow and River, but I had a great time with you! As cabin siblings, we were buddies this session and you were a great friend to me. I hope we can continue talking from time to time, and maybe you’ll be here next session, I’ll definitely be here.

River -
Thanks for being such a great co-leader, you and Willow were simply amazing, I couldn’t ask for anyone better. As you are more experienced than me in leadership, it was awesome to have you by my side, and I think I learned a lot from you. You were the perfect amount of professionalism, even on Scratch, but also had a fun side, which I think is the best combination, and something I strive to achieve. Thank you for accepting my co offer, I don’t think I’ll ever regret the memories I made this session.

Willow -
Again, you and River were such great co-leaders, Willow, I always have known that you were amazing with drawing digitally, but this session’s matching profile pictures went above and beyond. I have always tried to draw digitally, and I currently am still trying, but I’ve never been able to reach the level you are right now. This is why I look up to you so much, and along with that, your leadership and ideas were so helpful while we were planning. Without you and River, the Tragedy cabin could never have been as good as it is. Thank you for all your help and commitment, I never will forget it!

Total words: 926

Heh I don’t really know what I’m doing but lemme give it a try

Hey everybody! I’m Scrollreader, but I go by Jade or Scrolls. I go by she/her pronouns, I’m arithro, and other than that I’m straight. This is only the second time doing SWC for me, but I did it I think a year or two back. I don’t remember it too well. I love reading and writing, and have a little book I’m writing with my friends on google docs that is currently at 150 pages and, at this moment, contains 41203 words! I enjoy writing fantasy, fan fiction (especially warrior cats and Percy Jackson) and acting. I have a comic here on Scratch called Moon-Touched, and my favorite author would have to be James Dashner, author of the Maze Runner. My favorite book is currently Cinder, a sci-fi retelling of Cinderella, where the main character, a cyborg, struggles to help her sister who has contracted the plague. Of course, there’s a lot more depth, but I don’t want to give spoilers! My favorite band would be Fall Out Boy, and I really like the song Jealous by Eyedress. I sometimes do acting, and have performed in the Adam’s Family in our town theater. Anyways, I’m really excited to meet you all and maybe learn something about writing!
-Jade

Daliy for Mythology 3/1

551 words

Ello there people! My name is Dalia. This is my third session of SWC and I'm super pumped! I'm going to try my hardest to beat my word count this session and have fun. I was in Myth for my first session back in July 2023 and I'm excited to have it again. Myth for the win!

When I'm writing I often will just get in the zone and do things like weeklies all in one sitting. I'm trying my hardest to break this habit and just improve my writing overall. I also have some ideas that I had been really excited about but I just lost interest in. I'm hoping that this session I can maybe bring light back to these stories. I prefer to write in second person but I occasionally write in first person. I've also won a few essay contests back at home and I hope to continue to grow in my writing.

My favorite authors are J.K. Rowling and Somani Chainani. As you all know J.K Rowling is the author of the Harry Potter series (aka one of the best series on the planet). I love the way that she writes these intriguing characters and keeps you wanting to come back for more. Her book The Ickabog is also really good! Somani Chainani is the author of The School for Good and Evil. My favorite part about his writing is the settings that he creates and how he weaves these complex relationships between characters. I really love how he created Hester and the fact that even though she is super snarky and rude, she pulls through for her friends and has moments where she truly cares.

If you haven't been able to tell by my fangirling above over books, I'm a super avid reader. I read super fast (as in finishing the entire Harry Potter series in a week fast) and this often presents the problem of running out of new reading material. If yall have any suggestions for reading material let me know! I prefer fantasy, romance, mystery, and adventure novels. I'm not a big fan of books that are closer to the nonfiction scale but there are some that I do enjoy. I do like older romance novels such as Pride and Prejudice and Emma. In school during my 8th grade English 1 class I'm stuck reading Romeo and Juliet. Spoiler alert: it sucks. I am also a HUGE Percy Jackson fan and I love the book The Sun and The Star.

I'm also a swim kid. Even though I'm in eighth grade I swim for my local high school's team. Go NMB Cheifs! I have been doing it for about 2 years now and I love getting to race in backstroke against other people. I have also danced since preschool. I am currently doing tap, jazz, and ballet. I have done ballet the longest and I love to do the Nutcracker. Other types of dance that I have done are hip-hop, acro, lyrical, and contemporary.

I love to draw and I have a few sketchbooks filled with my designs. I prefer to sketch feminine figures but I suck at drawing faces. I am currently learning how to do digital art and I hope to get better.

Bye guys and thanks for reading,
Dalia!

Kit's writing post

March 24 daily - Hobbit-holes
419 words
Might add onto/edit this later Idk

The first thing you are likely to notice when entering my hobbit hole is the books. The walls are lined with wooden shelves that curve with the shape of the room, shelves filled with old favorite books and new favorite books and books I’ll hopefully get around to reading someday. Stocked with the likes of Tracey Baptiste and Kelly Barnhill, Suzanne Collins and R.L. LaFevers, Rick Riordan and Lemony Snicket, Anne Ursu and ND Stevenson. And as I am writing this and can include whatever I like, there is even the fifth Theodosia book, which likely will never be released in the real world. There’s a nonfiction section, too, with books on archeology and floriography, history and mythology, math and making comics, and of course, plenty of memoirs.
One of the shelves is dedicated to notebooks and sketchbooks, books for me to fill in. Near that shelf sits my desk, and atop that desk is a typewriter. Not one of the plasticky ones; a proper classic typewriter, all black metal and round keys you’d better press down hard enough. It is a large wooden desk with plenty of drawers, but despite its size its surface is still almost completely covered with papers, and a couple of notebooks, pens, and pencils I haven’t put away yet.
A tall antique floor lamp stands next to the desk, to provide light while I work. The whole place is lit by lamps, bathing everything in a soft golden glow. Much more pleasant than bright overhead lights, and much less headache-inducing.
Near the door you probably entered through is a coat rack, on which hangs one long coat and three hats - a flowery 19th-century hat from the milliner; a small black velvet hat with a gold buckle; and a gray fedora with a black ribbon. I have a long red cape that should probably be hung on the coat rack as well, but is instead draped over an armchair, and I certainly can’t put the cape away now since my cat is now sitting on it.
My other clothes are actually put away properly, either in the chest of drawers near my bed or in my closet, both of which have more swishy skirts and dresses than is practical.
The bed itself is a round canopy bed, draped in green curtains. Atop the blankets sits a plush wolf, who appears to be guarding the room. Don’t worry, she won’t bite - or at least, she’ll warn you with a growl long before she does.



Critique for @HermioneVoiceActress
122 words, not counting quote from Herm's writing

I really enjoyed this! The first two sentences are especially funny, and sound so much like Percy.
My only suggestions are just a few details - I think anyway would sound more like Percy’s voice than anyways. And maybe nearby instead of near this area?
I also don’t think Percy uses words like wicked much - it’s more, I don’t know, fancy? Not sure how to describe it, but it’s the vibes. Although it’s been a while since I’ve reread the books and I might be misremembering.
“and from the sound of things, it wasn’t going great” again sounds very much like Percy. That’s just the right tone.
The title is of course perfect! It absolutely sounds like a Percy Jackson chapter title, and I love the callback to “My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting”.


Week 2 weekly - SWClassics
This could really use some editing but I don't have time for that :')

Part 1
360 words

Daffodils. I gave her a bouquet of periwinkle, carnation, pansy, and fern, and she gave me a bouquet of daffodils. Conceit. What is she saying?
Is she calling me conceited?
I spent ages figuring out how to respond. I searched all my dictionaries, but none showed me how to ask.
Eventually, I settled on a bouquet of daisies. Innocence. If she is accusing me of anything, well, maybe that will fix things.

Hydrangeas. She left another bouquet on my steps this morning. A bouquet of hydrangeas - show-off. Oh, clearly I have fixed nothing. And I am no show-off! is that really what she thinks of me? I have sent her nothing but praise, and she responds like this? Have I done something to upset her, without knowing it?
I could respond in kind, insult her back; but I do want to reconcile. But reconcile for what? I have done nothing that I can see, and all she has done is call me conceited and a show-off.
Xanthium and elder blossom. She has been rude, but I am compassionate. And some pansies and quaking grass, to be thorough.

Hyacinth, foxglove, and rhododendron! And she hasn’t spoken to me in days. Is she calling me rash now?! Accusing me of treachery? And rhododendron… danger… is that a threat?
Certainly I am not the treacherous one here.
My basil plant will come in handy. Hatred. Though part of me still refuses to hate her… Honeysuckle - it is something like ties of love, much as I hate it. Hemlock. You will be my death.

Hellebore.
I still have not seen her. But she has left me a vase of hellebore. Madness.
Madness indeed. This is madness. She is mad. She is driving me mad.
Well. Nightshade. I will deliver her nightshade.

Oh.
She meant nothing by it.
She asked what was wrong, why I seemed angry. She did not think of flower language. She merely picked the flowers because they were… pretty.
I picked out a new bouquet for her, then explained it. Japanese kerria - thoughtlessness, for she had been thoughtless, not realizing what the flowers meant. She laughed at that. And hazel - reconciliation.

Part 2
524 words

The Big Dipper - merely an asterism, technically, only a small part of Ursa Major, the Great Bear. Funny story, that. Those stars weren’t a bear; the Big Dipper was there first. There is a bear, though.
It is sometimes called a ladle, but that isn’t quite right, either. It’s a saucepan. A great saucepan in the sky.
There once lived a woman in a house at the edge of the woods. One day, a bear arrived at her cottage. It banged on the door, but of course, it was a bear and she didn’t want to just let it in. She barricaded the door, then leaned out an upstairs window and yelled at the bear to shoo, waving her saucepan threateningly.
Unfortunately, this was no ordinary bear, and it was undeterred. She hadn’t scared it off, only offended it. It paused, looked up at her and growled, then broke the door down and went inside.
The woman worried that the bear would destroy her stuff (she must have been more concerned about that than for her own life), so she rushed downstairs and yelled at it some more, told it to get out. It ignored her, and kept sniffing around for food.
She threw her saucepan at it, which made it turn around and glare at her. How rude, it said. It only wanted something to eat. After much flailing around and some help from a bear-human dictionary, the bear demanded all the woman’s mangoes.
She did not relish the idea of sharing any of her mangoes with anyone; she certainly didn’t want to give them all to this bear. But it was very insistent, and if it didn’t get some mangoes to eat, it would just eat her.
Then she thought of a way to stretch her mango supply more, to hopefully give the bear enough to eat while leaving enough for her: mango soup. So she cut up a couple mangoes and put them in her saucepan, along with some other ingredients that must not be named - the recipe is too sacred to be shared. The bear waited impatiently as she cooked it.
Once the soup was done cooking, she took the saucepan, a ladle, and her worst bowl outside, and the bear followed. She set the bowl on the ground, and ladled some soup into it. The bear lapped it up, then pronounced it the best thing ever tasted.
The sky, who could speak bear, happened to be watching at that moment. The best thing ever tasted? Well, a bear might have lower standards; but still, the sky was curious. So it reached down a massive cloud-covered blue hand, and plucked the saucepan and ladle out of the woman’s hands.
The woman gasped, first in surprise, then indignation, as her saucepan and soup were lifted up, up, up.
The sky drank the mango soup from the saucepan, and discovered that it was indeed delicious.
Unfortunately for the woman, the sky neglected to return her kitchenware to her. It just left them up there, the saucepan and ladle; and on some nights, you can see them - the Big Dipper and Little Dipper.

Part 3
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/984065508/

Part 4
1060 words
Script was in 5th place, which was certainly not high enough. But I didn’t feel like doing the daily or the weekly. I’d rather read through more of that 19th century Language of Flowers book I found.
Maybe we could send flower bouquets to other cabins. I think our siblings were owed some foxglove - treachery - after last cabin wars. Although I think we might have actually betrayed them first… Maybe some hazel, then, for reconciliation? What flower means “sorry”? I should check my book. I shouldn’t check my book. I should work on the weekly like I’m supposed to.
Are we sorry for betraying them, though? Well, I think Thriller was kind of drowning, so we probably shouldn’t have picked on them like that… But they were now in first place, so no harm there.
Then there were our enemies.. Basil means hatred, though that might be a bit harsh. Rhododendron would be more appropriate - it means danger. A warning for next cabin wars? Or just a reminder that we’re totally going to beat them in the end?
I was pretty sure there were a lot of other appropriate flowers, and I really wanted to check. But I should not check. I should work on the weekly. Time was almost up.
What was really an appropriate flower for cabin wars - no, for Scratch Writing Camp in general - was hellebore. It means madness. And SWC could be pretty crazy, though cabin wars were always craziest of all.
I wondered what mango flowers symbolized. They should really mean craziness.
I wanted to look it up. But now wasn’t the time for random research. Now was the time to write.
Then I had an idea for how to help Script win. A terrible idea.
Legend has it, someone once made mango soup so good that the sky itself took the pot of it. That saucepan became the Big Dipper. Maybe if I got soup like that, I could… I don’t know, bribe the hosts to give Script bonus points? Hmm. I’d think of something.
I didn’t think anyone knew the recipe for the soup, though. Was any left in the saucepan in the sky? Probably not, but I could check. I just had to reach it somehow…
I’d need help. And fast. My cabin seemed to be empty at the moment, though… I’d better ask around in the main cabin. Of course, I didn’t want to tell anyone from other cabins of my plan - they might try to steal the soup for themselves. Especially people from Sci-Fi. Out of all our enemies, I harbored the biggest grudge against them. Not only had they spent much of the session high on the leaderboard, I also kept flashing back to November 2021, when Sci-Fi were Adventure’s main rivals and mortal enemies. That session is long gone, now, but it seems old rivalries die hard.
I headed out of Script and into the main cabin. “Hey, I’m going on an expedition to the Big Dipper to see if there’s any soup in it. Anyone want to come?”
I got several volunteers. Juice, Chuey, Lily, Chloe, Artemis, my sister Ayla, and my cabinmates Luna, Coco, and Unicornshine. It was honestly almost more people than I knew what to do with, but I couldn’t really turn any of them away. Besides, I’d probably need all the help I could get.
Still, if I betrayed them, then I’d be in real trouble… Especially with Ayla, champion grudge holder.
“Okay,” I said. “So… how are we gonna do this? We could build like a tower or something up to it, Tower of Babel style, but the Tower of Babel didn’t go so well, and it would take a while… Anyone have any better ideas?”
“Ooh, um, maybe Harry the Capybara could help us?” Ayla suggested.
“How would Harry help us get to space?”
“I don’t know,” Ayla admitted.
“We could take spaceship? said Chuey.
“Oh yeah, that… makes much more sense.” Everyone nodded.
“Wait,” said Juice, “where would we get a spaceship?”
“Oh. Right.”
“Uhhhh…”
“Hmm.”
Everyone thought for a moment.
“Does anyone have a spaceship?” asked Artemis.
“Um…”
“Sci-Fi, maybe?” said Coco.
Lily shook her head. “Not right now, no.”
“Wait, I think there might have been one in the main cabin last session?” I said. “Does anyone know where they might keep stuff like that?”
“There’s a shed behind the main cabin,” said Chloe. “Maybe there’s something in there?”
“Good thinking,” I said. “Let’s check.”
The shed was a lot bigger than it had looked from the outside. There were clouds sitting around, a patch of beach, and even a large chunk of swamp, as well as several shelves of papers. We all spread out to search.
“Here!” called Vicky. “I found a spaceship!”
I shut the crate of Among Us costumes I’d been looking through, and we all rushed over to take a look.
Yes, this spaceship would do nicely.
We all climbed inside. After some discussion, we decided to let Luna fly it - none of us had any real credentials or useful experience, but her name meant moon, which was space-related, and that seemed as good a reason as any.
She did a good job, too. All went smoothly. Well, until someone realized we had no idea where we were going.
It had seemed so simple - we’d just fly towards the Big Dipper. But it was daytime, so we couldn’t actually see the constellation. We found some star charts, but they were hard to navigate with. And even if we went to the right place, would the saucepan even be there?
Then Chloe realized midnight UTC was in only a few hours, and she hadn’t done the daily yet.
“Me neither!” Luna said.
“And I still need to finish my weekly,” Coco added. “Should we go back to earth?”
I sighed. “Probably. Maybe we can try again some other time.” I still needed to finish my weekly, too.
We headed back down to earth. How anticlimactic… But at least now I didn’t need to worry about how to sneak off with the soup without anyone from other cabins noticing. Or what to do with the soup when I did get it.
I did waste a bunch of time I could’ve been spending on my weekly. Attempting a space mission is a very effective way to procrastinate.


March 15 daily - beware the ides of March
473 words

I thought it was pretty weird that a random cloaked figure was walking up to me. Then the figure told me I was going to die, which was… actually the sort of weird creepy stuff I’d expect for someone dressed like that.
“Um, do I know you?” I asked.
“In a way. We have never met before, but I know you.”
“Who are you?”
“It is not important. I am merely here to tell you, you are going to die.”
“I mean, obviously I’m going to die eventually,” I said nervously. “Everyone does and all… ‘Memento mori’ or something, right?”
“No. You will die today.”
“Uh… okay? How do you know that?”
“You must trust me. See that raven?” The figure gestured to a nearby tree with one cloaked arm. I didn’t see any hand at the end of its sleeve.
I looked up at the tree. There was a raven perched in it.
“Ravens are harbingers of death.”
“I mean, that’s just a superstition… And you know, it’s a flock of crows that’s called a murder; the collective nouns for a group of ravens are an unkindness or a storytelling, and I feel like there’s a third one but I can’t remember…” I trailed off. Enough with that nervous chattering thing. “Do you just think I’m about to die because you saw a raven?”
“No. The raven is merely an additional omen. I have… other sources.”
“Like what?” This was all just some sort of practical joke, right? Right?
The figure didn’t answer. “You must trust me. You have less than twenty-four hours left to live. Use them wisely.”
“What? Wait, how am I going to die? What’s going to happen? Who are you?”
The figure vanished. I don’t think I had even blinked or anything; one second it was there, and the next it wasn’t.
Weird.
Creepy.
Probably not good.
I headed back to my house.
This couldn’t be for real, could it?
You have less than 24 hours left to live.
Maybe it was a prank. Or maybe I imagined it.
Use them wisely.
I picked up my phone, and dialed my sister. “Hey, Grace? I was just thinking of you, and wanted to tell you how much you mean to me…”
I did the same with my other closest friends and family. I probably didn’t need to. Everything was probably fine. Still, better safe than sorry.
We always ended up chatting more, so the whole thing took several hours. Some people thought it was weird, and asked if I was okay, if something was up. I brushed it off, said I was fine, nothing was up; there was no reason to worry them. I’d probably just sound crazy.
Once I finished with that, I looked around my house. Now would be a good time to tackle my to-read list.

March 11 daily - introspection
261 words

That’s it. I’m so sick of all the transphobic laws. Of the book bans. Of the horrible politicians. I hate it. I hate it. It makes me mad enough to mvrder. Filled with such burning rage that I want to burn the governor’s house down.
And I know just who’d like to join me in that.
I dare not detail the specifics of the summoning ritual here, lest it fall into the wrong hands. But it involves some chanting, and a book containing whoever you’re trying to summon.
I take the pride flag off my porch and lay it on the floor of my room for good measure. It’s not really part of the ritual, but it at least makes for appropriate decor. Then I place my copy of Nimona in the center of the flag, and prepare the incantation.
The room grows darker as I recite the spell. I glance over at my window, making sure I shut the blinds. Don’t want any random people getting a look at this.
My voice grows louder as I continue. I cry the final words, and from the book comes a flash, a beam of light.
The lighting in the room returns to normal and the beam of light dissipates. In its place stands a stocky teen girl with pink hair, a partially shaved head, and dragon wings.
“Hey,” she says. “You summoned me?”
I nod. “Hi, Nimona,” I say. “I need your help.”
I fill her in on the situation. She is furious. And she is so excited to cause some destruction.


Word war against @Gladiolus12 (5 minutes)

“sometimes doors don't go where they're supposed to.” - @ ChueyTheCat

424 words

Like this one time, this door that was supposed to lead to a supply closet instead lead to a zoo. That was weird. Or this other time, there was this door that I thought was going to lead to a walk in freezer because that makes sense, and I wanted ice cream so I walked through it, but instead it lead to a farm full of cows. And then this other time I went through a door to my room, but then it lead to a clothign store instead. That was the best because then I Could look at all those cool clothes, only actually it was teh worst because I didn't have enough mony to buy any of them. Then another time the door to the supply closet led to a petting zoo, which was actually just another part of that zoo from earlier so I guess that makes sense. Ish. Anyway I really would like doors to lead where they’re supposed to more. Why don’t they go where I want them to? It’s very confusing. I think doors should always go exaclty where I want them to, whether that’s where they normally lead or not. Obvilusly that’s not possible though.
One time, this door to my friend’s bedroom led to a diner in some really weird desert town. THen I had to wander around that town for forever looking for a door back. I never idd find my friend.
THen my cat opened a door that led to a pool, only that one was supposed to go to a pool so it’s all good. Only cats shouldn’t be able to open doors, so that was anotehr problem, because now how are we going to keep my cat inside? We’lll have to lock the door more.
I don’t know why doors only seem to do this around me. I mean, I think it happens to other people too sometimes, right? Like when there’s a door that says it leads to the women’s bathroom, but really lit leads to the men’s? THat was awkward. And I also one time had a horse walk in on me in the bathroom. It was a girl horse, at least, but still a horse. I didn’t like that. Only now me and the horse are friends so it’s all good. Best friends! That’s what I like to think, anyway, but she can’t talk so I Guess it’s hard to say. she makes an even better friend than the one I lost, almost. You know, the one whose door


March 8 daily - International Women's Day
300 words

Dear Christine de Pizan,
I am writing this for an activity in an online writing camp. When I looked at this daily, for a moment I wasn’t sure who to write about - there are so many awesome women to choose from. But really, as soon as I saw it, I knew I just had to write about you.
I mean, you’re the first feminist writer.
I really need to read the rest of The Book of the City of Ladies. I’ve read a bit of it, but I still need to read the whole thing. I liked what I read - it’s been over 600 years since you originally wrote it, and it still holds up today.
Feminism has come a long way since your time, though there is still much to be done. There are lots of books rather like yours, anthologies about inspiring women, Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls and the like. Why weren’t you mentioned in any of the ones I’ve read, when you essentially wrote the first one?
(By the way, The Book of the City of Ladies could make for a great Six-style musical, so much so that I’m almost tempted to learn songwriting just so I can write one. I should… probably start by actually reading the whole book, though.)
I should read some of your poetry, too! I wonder if I can find a good English translation… There’s your original poems that first became popular, and there’s the one you wrote in praise of Joan of Arc, the only work in praise of her written while she was still alive. (Joan of Arc is quite the icon nowadays, by the way.)
Anyway, you’re awesome. Thank you for everything you’ve done, and sorry I haven’t read more of your stuff yet.
Your fan,
Kit


March 4 daily - dice roll POV & tense
Future tense, third person
471 words

October 13 will start as a good day for Claire. The sky will be blue, streaked with picturesque clouds. The sun will be shining. It will be warm, though with the occasional sharp fall breeze to remind her of the season. The leaves will be starting to change color, but will mostly still be on their trees.
She won’t have to go into work that day, but she will still have some work she needs to get done, so she will decide to head down to the coffee shop with her laptop to do some writing.
She will not notice the shadows on her porch.
She should remember to lock the door behind her.
She should remember to check for her keys.
As she walks to the coffee shop, more clouds will roll in, partially covering the sun. She will think nothing of it. She will think nothing of the raven she sees, either, beyond maybe a vague, Ooh, neat bird. And she will not even notice the dark shadows, oozing from places that have no right being in quite that dark of shade.
She will be thinking of her boyfriend, and what fun he is. And of her book, and what will happen in it. She will not be worried about anything. Not even the deadline for her work assignment - she will be merely annoyed by that. It is true that she will not need to worry about completing that assignment on time. No, that will not be worth worrying about soon.
After several hours writing and reading at the coffee shop, she will leave. The temperature will still be relatively pleasant by then, so she will decide to walk around the park a bit. She should notice that it is strangely dark out - like late evening, even though it should only be late afternoon. And the temperature will drop suddenly, until her face is very cold and the rest of her rather chilly as well, and she is wishing she wore a warmer jacket.
She will head home, then. She may be feeling nervous. It will only get darker. Very heavy clouds. Which must signify a storm - that could explain her discomfort.
She should pay attention. She should take a careful look at the shadows.
When she gets home, she will discover that she is locked out. The spare keys under the doormat will be missing, too. Perhaps she will manage not to panic. She may call her boyfriend. But she will not hear his voice, only horrible buzzing static.
She will head to her boyfriend’s house at that. The door will be unlocked, but he will not be there. She will not find any people inside. She will not find any help. She will find something, though, and then she will wish she had found nothing at all.

March 3 daily - cabin anthems
Script
106 words

Zeus bless Script Theatron
The Script of March ‘24

O Script, O Script
Cabin from Writing Camp ‘17
Absent for many years until
July twenty twenty… two

Pillars of gleaming marble
And rows and rows of seats
In the amphitheater
Our storyline awaits

Dionysus, god of theatre
Shine your favor on our play
As we tell the tale of Prometheus
He who gave us flame

Our fire will lead us to victory
And burn down our enemies

May we meet our goals
May we play our roles

Under the leadership of Alia
And Pepper and Snowy
We shall put on an amazing play
And win ess-double-you-cee


Adventure November '21
126 words

The towering mountain
Its majestic peak
Through jungle and stone
The Survivalists hike

MeeEeAaaAh, cry the goats
Blessed are we
By these epic creatures
And most of all, Monty

The Survivalists strive for treasure
The campers for victory
The cabin Adventure
Best in SWC

Valiantly we fight
Against Poetry and Sci-Fi
And with each step up the mountain
We grow closer to the sky

We reach the top of the mountain
And top of the leaderboard
Though what goes up may go down
And ultimately we rank third

But there is something even better
Than total victory
As good as the treasure
Are the memories

And though we did not win
You really must see
We’re still the best cabin
For we have goats and Montyyy

1k intro
1000 words exactly

Kit is attempting the one thousand word intro challenge. She is not sure she actually feels like doing it right now, but she has done it every session but one so far, and would like to keep that streak up. It would be a better streak if she hadn’t missed one already, but oh well, no going back in time.
In an endeavor to set this one-thousand-word intro apart from her previous ones, she is, as you can see, writing this one in third person. This will likely not stop it from being as tangent-filled as her past one thousand word intros as she says anything she can think to say, trying to write the needed amount of words; but at least it will be a bit of a different style. Perhaps she should aim for one thousand words exactly? But perhaps that will be more trouble than it is worth. That remains to be seen.
This is Kit’s eighth session - and yes, she may have counted on her fingers to figure that out. She joined Scratch in August 2021, and was semi-active in a number of small writing studios around that time. In September of that year she came across something related to SWC. She no longer remembers what it was, exactly, that she first found, or how she found it; but whatever it was, it interested her. She then read through several old memory books from sessions past, and soon her heart was set on joining. So when October rolled around, she signed up. That first session was even more incredible than she’d hoped. She spent November climbing Adventure Mountain with the Survivalists and hanging out with goats; and of course she wanted to participate again in March. She has been in every session since, once co-leading Thriller, and many more times as a camper, in Fanfiction, Realistic Fiction, Thriller, Historical Fiction, and Fairy Tales.
This session, she is a camper in Script, also known as the best cabin and future winner. Her goals for this month are to be generally active and participate in in-cabin activities; do at least ten dailies and at least one weekly; and work on some ongoing personal writing projects.
Kit has been telling stories for as long as she can remember - she still has some that her parents typed up for her when she was about three. These old stories are strange and absurd, as is the mind of a three-year-old, and many involve long descriptions of clothes (with so much trim and polka dots - and of course, polka dots on the trim). She only got into writing on her own, however, in spring 2020, when she wrote The Dragon and the Snake, which remains one of the few stories she has actually finished. (Oh, the piles of unfinished projects, many only just begun…) The Dragon and the Snake was followed by The Magic Book, an episodic contemporary fantasy story set during quarantine and based upon the works of E. Nesbit, which she tells herself she’ll write more on eventually.
While E. Nesbit was an early inspiration for her, and remains something of an inspiration today, Kit’s current favorite author is Anne Ursu. Many of Ursu’s novels are near perfection, and that is not something Kit says lightly. Some of Kit’s other favorites include Lemony Snicket, Rick Riordan, and ND Stevenson, though Stevenson’s works are mostly comics.
Kit does like comics, though. Graphic novels read so much quicker than non-graphic ones, and can be a good cure for a reading slump, as well as good to just read between longer novels; and she also likes to draw comics herself. Not longform narrative comics (finishing writing a story takes her long enough, and trying to draw it all is a recipe for failure), but one-page comics about whatever strikes her fancy. (“Whatever strikes her fancy” has mostly been fan comics as of late, as her favorite show has consumed her life.) She does other art too, though it too is mostly fanart of whatever is her current favorite thing at the moment.
For the past few years, that thing has been the show She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. It has gone on long enough that she can no longer refer to it as a hyperfixation; it is solidly in “deep interest” territory. (Kit doesn’t love the term “special interest”; and deep interest is more specific.)
Kit is autistic, though not professionally diagnosed yet, and is quite interested in neurodiversity and autism advocacy. She is also queer (in both senses of the word - not only gay, but also generally a bit weird), and passionate about LGBTQ+ rights. And she owns an “I Read Banned Books” t-shirt (though her favorite t-shirts are the band and fandom tees).
Kit is also homeschooled. There are, it seems to her, essentially three types of homeschoolers - Christian homeschoolers, families with “special needs” kids (she is not especially fond of that term either, but doesn’t have a better one handy), and, as her mom puts it, “weirdo hippie homeschoolers”. Her family is of the weirdo hippie variety. They are very “unschool-y”, meaning there are no structured lessons and her and her sisters mostly get to do what they want and learn about what they want to learn about.
This means she has plenty of time for her hobbies (assuming she doesn’t waste it all scrolling through the internets). Besides writing, drawing, and of course reading, her main hobby at the moment is editing wikis (mostly She-Ra Fandom Wiki, since that show is her life now). She is quite good at proofreading, finding spelling and punctuation errors and fixing them; though she also concerns herself with adding trivia, as well as things like organization and consistency across articles, and more that will probably bore you.
Kit is not the best at writing conclusions, but as this introduction is nearing one thousand words, it is time to try. She is so excited for this session; and it’s sure to be epic.

~Bookie's Writing Directory~
Dailies
- https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7836265/
- https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7838358/
- https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7845062/
In-Cabin Dailies
- https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7845002/
Weeklies
Writing Comp Entries
Prompt Project Fanfictions
- https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7840107/
Misc.

-For my own reference-
Date UTC:
Time Comp. UTC:
Prompt Sum.:
Point Value:
Extra Points?:
Total Points:
Word Count:

Daily 001: 1000 words, Chuey's 1k introduction

You stare at the page in surprise.
For one thing, this is an introduction. Aren't those supposed to be written in, like, first person or something? Even third person is acceptable if you're a tad quirky, but second person, that's on another level.
Huh. If third person is quirky, this person must be downright eccentric. You continue reading, intrigued.
In the first few paragraphs, Chuey introduces herself as a homeschooled Christian scratcher. She likes cats (but is sadly allergic), beverages made from hot water (which phrase she has used extensively when introducing herself), and the way old books smell. Chuey lives in a little rural town somewhere in the United States, where she resides with her family and the neighborhood cows, coyotes, and copperheads, the last of which aren't so very neighborly.
And now you're wondering how long it took her to come up with that sentence. But you're pretty sure it either took a while, or it struck by lightning. You can't tell which is more concerning.
Your eyes skip to the next paragraph, where she begins to rambles about her hobbies. She loves reading, especially old romance novels such as Pride and Prejudice and The Scarlet Pimpernel, but she also enjoys more modern series such as Keeper of the Lost Cities, Warriors, How to Train Your Dragon (the books, she clarifies, although the movies aren't too terrible), Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and the Lunar Chronicles, to name a few. Chuey also appears to like writing, which, in hindsight, probably should have been obvious, considering that this was written for a writing camp. Her characters are many and varied, but judging from the mental states of her favorites, it would seem that she's one of those truly terrible people who enjoy putting their characters through horrible life experiences and squashing all the joy out of their feeble existences. She probably eats the head off of gummy bears first, too. And you don't even want to get started on chocolate easter bunnies.
Moving on, you read that Chuey also bakes on occasion, although she has a bad habit of forgetting to put ingredients such as salt in, and sometimes miscounts the cups of flour (however, everything she's produced thus far has technically been edible). She takes pride in the fact that she's never burned anything. Yet.
It could still happen, though. Especially given her unsettling tendency to talk about setting things on fire.
You note that Chuey has a lot of hobbies, because there are still two or three left in the list. She likes playing piano–sometimes. When she's interested in the song. She isn't overly fond of exercises, though. Becoming a professional piano player, while it has good alliteration, is not one of her ideals, and as such the exercises seem a tad pointless. Chuey doesn't play any other instruments, but she does draw, albeit poorly. She especially loves doodling mouths–the more teeth showing, and the more pointed those teeth, the better, although she also derives some joy from shading juicy lips. She used to know how to draw cats but has since forgotten, and is learning to draw humans (very slowly).
Finally. You're done with the hobbies. You scroll further, hoping something that's actually interesting is next.
Ah, yes-
Oh, wait, nope, this paragraph is all about the hobbies she forgot to include. Wonderful.
Among these remembered hobbies (oh, how you wish they had stayed forgotten) are martial arts and procrastinating, only one of which you really think should have been included.
But maybe now you can advance past these odious hobbies.
Except now Chuey wishes to talk about Scratch Writing Camp, her statistics, her cabin, and her goals, each of which is more boring than the last. Who really cares? Not you. But you're committed now, after all.
She dives in without further ado into how she found Scratch Writing Camp in July of '22, where she was a camper in Dystopian and did about half the dailies, submitted the wrong link for the writing competition (oh, horrors–and it was over a year until she found out that not only was it the wrong link, it was a link to someone else's entry), and was nonexistent in the cabin. Nevertheless, it left a favorable impression upon her mind, and she applied for coleader for the November session. Needless to say, she did not get it–her application hardly deserved to be classified as such, although she did receive several complimentary(?) comments upon her “obvious personality.” There was personality in that application, all right.
Chuey claims that she was not offended in being looked over, but she forgot to sign up when camper signups came out, and didn't so much as look at the March or July sessions of ‘23. Luckily, she remembered that Scratch Writing Camp existed sometime after the July session, and signed up for the November session of ’23, this time in the lovely Real-Fi cabin. She loved every minute of it, did all the weeklies, and every daily she possibly could (she missed a few, as she traveled for Thanksgiving). All in all, she hit double her original word goal, and emboldened by her success, she signed up for Scratch Writing Camp's smaller sibling camp, January Writing Camp, with an ambitious word goal, and fell miserably short. This session, Chuey has settled for a number in between the two goals, and hopes to reach it within a reasonable timeframe.
Chuey is part of the amazing Fan-Fi cabin this session, and not only is she delighted to be in the company of her writer friends, this March marks an entire year of Scratch Writing Camp for her–A July session, a November session, and now a March session–all three of which were in different years, but she's still decided to mark this as her one year anniversary.
The introduction stops abruptly, and you scroll up again in confusion. Have you missed something? No, Chuey has simply hit 1K.

(back to table of contents: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7831826/ )

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no

claiming a spot for writing post

kitty’s writing folder

dailies

march 1
march 2
march 4

weeklies

other

Hello, I'm the witch of jam! I use she/ her pronouns and am a badger therian and am mousehearted, though I get shifts from both my badger theriotype and my mouse hearttype. I have one sibling, we're twins, though I am still five minutes older. I am in the main Alaska time zone, (Yes we have multiple T^T) and am in middle school. My favorite color is pastel indigo, though I'm a fan of others too. I'm starting on my first big story besides just stories made for school, and I'm pretty happy with the plot so far, though I'm still figuring out how to end it. I love rain world which is probably my favorite video game. I have too many favorite books to count, but some of them are… Everything Everything, Inside Out ans Back Again, The Cruel Prince, What if (The best nonfiction-ish book of all time), and SO many more. I also enjoy watching shows, including: Shera and The Princesses of power, Hilda, Hluva boss, and This is my first session of scratch writing camp but I'm really excited to be a part of it! I found Swc randomly, it just kept popping up everywhere for me, so I decided to see what it was all about and fell in love with it. I am now really exited to help my cabin and enjoy this whole thing! Some of my hobbies are drawing, writing (Obviously), reading, and I'm also learning Chinese and German! I am currently reading Wings of Fire in german, and that's pretty fun. I mainly prefer larger books, like 300 pages or more, but I read smaller ones every once in a while. My goals for this session is to get at least 7k words, and I also want to get a get a higher words per minute score, but we'll see how that goes, it will probably go up by like, a singular word. I have a lot of favorite authors, since I read a lot of books, but my favorite authors are probably Thanna Lai and Holly Black. Their writing styles are very different, but I still love all their writing. Thanna Lai writes a lot of poetry, and my favorite books of hers are Inside Out and Back Again, and When Clouds Touch us All. They are a two book series about a girl who was a reffugee from the Veitnam war and moves to America. It's all written in poetry, and is roughly based off the authors own excperiences. Holly Black writes fantasy, and I mainly read her novels of Elfhame. As I write this there is litterally one of her books right next to me. This is my first session of Scratch Writing Camp (do I capitilize it or no? Eh, ignore it being on and off throughout this please) but I am very excited for it, and to come back next session! I'm in dystopian( do I capitilize those too?) and everyone's been very nice there and there is also a weird amount of us who really enjoy writing in poetry. It's also a lot of fun bantering with other cabins, esspecialy since my sister is also doing Swc and she's in fairy tales (One of dystopian's rivals), so we get to go back and forth about a lot!

claim <3