Daily March 8th
224 words

Elizabeth Cady Stanton,

Thank you for what you did to change this country for the better. Without you, I’m sure women’s suffrage would never have started at the time it did. It would have taken much longer for women to achieve basic rights, a wait no one would have wanted. Thank you for organizing the Seneca Falls Convention, and providing your support in pushing our country to progress and give women rights throughout the 19th century. Thank you, also, for your effort to fight against racism before, during, and after the civil war. Thank you for the books you wrote, filled with radical ideas that would only gain popularity long after your death. Because you fought, we don’t have to - well, actually, there’s a better way to word that. I think it would be more accurate to describe the process of giving all of humankind the rights and liberation they deserve as a long race that no single generation can run in full. Everyone can only do their part, then pass the baton on. I hope that my generation can do even half as much as your generation did in the years to come. It’s sad that, even now, people are trying to fight back against the honorable causes of gender and race equality. All we can do is keep fighting, I think.

- Kora

Daily 8th March

Woman: Mary Seacole

Dear Mary Seacole,
Thank you for saving all those people in the Crimean War. You deserved much more recognition for your incredible healing of the sick and endless compassion and love, even for the enemy. You truly are a great role model. I think it is terrible that you just had to go back to living a poor life again, despite your amazing actions. You survived the d3ath of your family and still carried on, courageous as ever.

I am sure you would be delighted to know that today you are remembered as a great hero all around the world. No one dares forget what you did. You built a hotel for the sick and nursed them, without even being asked! What you did has helped us to this day, showing us the power that women can have. You are amongst the strong female figures in the world and we all look up to you. Don’t forget that. Thank you for showing us what we can really do and for healing so many damaged lives and souls. You hold a place in our hearts. I hope that you will remember all this and know that you will stay alive in this world forever.
From Silvi

Name: Ava
Cabin: Sci-Fi
Wordcount: 201/200
Topic: Write about a famous women figure
Content: March 8th Daily

LET'S GET IT

My favorite historical woman is not what you guys might expect- I'm not going to be writing about the many athletes, geniuses, or athletes who were amazing in their own ways. I'll be writing about an author.

If you haven't heard about Enid Blyton (if not read her books) then no offense but you really don't belong in SWC. Go read one of her books- they'll make you fall in love. She's the reason I wanted to start publishing my books. I started writing a lot of stories before I knew her name, but the moment I read her books I became enthralled. She's the reason I'm here today, and she's the reason why I have so much passion for reading and writing. In fact, in every story I write, there will always be a hint of something from her stories. She's like, the mother of all mystery or adventure stories for children. I see her as an angel who helped me through many struggles, and how I wish I could meet her to tell her how grateful I am to her.

No, but seriously, you're living under a rock if you don't know Enid Blyton. Go read her books now.

~

YOU KNOW I WANT THAT HOoOoOoOoooOME~
YOU KNOW YOU GOT THAT HOOoOooOOoOOOOoME~

Churro's Dailies #8- 3/8/2024
Hey mom,
you work so hard for us all the time. Your fingers are covered in bruises and scratches from when you used to tie our skates for us and we cut your hand by accident. Your face has so many wrinkles that we probably caused for you when you get mad at us for the same things. You give us so much freedom and spread so much love. Sometimes I feel like I don't do enough back for you. You have to do chores, drive us around for our various activities, manage adult things I don't understand yet (I know you *looooove* taxes) and you just have so much trouble and stress on your shoulders. On top of that you have a nice, caring, wise demeanor, and even though sometimes you hit us or beat us I understand it's for our own good. You care about us and that's why you get mad at our behavior, because you want us to grow up to be people who contribute to society, people who can make a difference. People who will go on to do great things. People who will cherish the little things in life, but also the big ones, and the medium ones.
People who will take care of you in return and give our family more.
Love, Churro

3/8/2024
women's history daily
casually using hoyo names instead of their real names

the girls in my english class. yes, you heard it here first, the girls in cecilia's english class. (they're pretty cool, but don't tell anyone that i'm writing about them because i can't describe my other inspirations.)

first and foremost, the one who sparked the flame: lake kokomi. i don't like her or her ideals, but i do respect her. she's got a passion, i'll give her that. she's fiery, fierce, and takes charge. outspoken, extroverted, and not afraid to speak her mind. oftentimes i think she stomps over people, pushing her ideals on others. constantly, she's talking about her future and the easiest way to do her work (minmaxing). the mindset is something i've yet to discover, and one day i'd like to get the same motivation. 

next is stelle nova, the new kid. pretty sure she spends at least 60% of her time looksmaxing, but as well as being fashionable, she's intelligent, social, with just a touch of humor. i don't know much about her, to say the truth. at the start of the year she was shy and talked to a select few people, yet with time we all show our true colours. is her personality faux, is it true? who knows, it's just the way the world goes. stelle's awesome either way.

last but not least, sucrose marie. she moved in the middle of the school year and has constantly been hitting above standards. in the first month she managed to win a school wide poetry contest and score a best friend. how? i have absolutely no idea. people are insane. sucrose was a finalist at the spelling bee, she scores an average of 95% on every test, etc. i'm afraid she'll get burnt out or crash down in her later years, but for now she's a star.

Dear Susan B Anthony,

I can’t believe how much you influenced our futures without us even realizing it. It would be truly awful to live in your time, attempting to climb higher on the social ladder but never being accepted. I would have just kept trying to fit in, like I always do, but you stood out and fought for everyone’s equal rights. You were the first step, and you were so endearing! I can’t even fathom how monumental your simple words were.
And oof, how much hate and cruelty did you receive for just trying to have the right to have your own life and living style? You were the corner stone, and an amazing women. So many people have been influenced and inspired by you, some of us without noticing.
You don’t have nearly enough recognition. Most people I know aren’t even sure if they know who you are, and most didn’t even realize you existed! You, the woman who gave us rights. How do they not know who you are?! It’s so frustrating, they don’t know who saved them from such a boring, gray life. Your words have moved many. Thank you for pushing people for women’s basic rights, and thank you for saving us.

-Jade

Word count: 216

daily!


Dear Greta Thunberg,
Thank you for being an iconic autistic girlboss and for being so cool I named my dog after you. You’ve been an idol of mine since the summer of 2019 when I was twelve years old. I did not know you were autistic at the time, and I did not know I was autistic either. All I knew is that you were a kid, like me, and that being a kid wasn’t stopping you from making an impact on issues you cared about, and issued I cared about too. Inspired by you coming to Montreal, which is close-ish to where I lived, I helped my local Youth Centre run a climate day. We made food using local, sustainable ingredients, some of them even grown by the youth in the garden on site, and prepared them with carbon-neutral methods.
You’ve been an inspiration to me for a very long time, but ever since it was suggested that I may be autistic and then not even a month later I learned you’re autistic too, you’be been even more of an inspiration to me. Whenever someone tells me I can’t be what I want to be, that I can’t successfully meet my life and career goals, or tries to convince me I shouldn’t be allowed to do something I’m perfectly capable of, and use autism as their reasoning, I remind myself, and them, if I’m feeling brave enough, that the great Greta Thunberg, world famous youth climate activist, is autistic, and has undeniably an able and successful individual. Thank you.

WEEKLY 1
2184 WORDS

(Part 1. I forgot but mythology)
The serpent’s tail flicks irritably, gouging a deep hole in its wake.
All over her Country she’s searched for her tribe, her people, her home. Will they ever come? Will she ever find them, ever come home to the ones she’s searched for? She’s alone. Completely, horribly alone.
Maybe the frogs will sympathize with her. The place could do with some water, too.
“Frogs, come out!” she yells.
They rise from their slumber, hundreds of things that seemed like rocks taking shape and moving. One slow step at a time, full of water, they move towards the serpent. Sighing, she goes to them. Her scales glisten in every colour as she glides towards them, tickling their stomachs to let the water out. It takes hours to let it all out, but eventually the rivers sparkle in the sunlight, water filling them to the brim. The hole the serpent made is glistening, the cool water luring her in, into peace… into quiet… into sleep…
Trees grow at the riverbanks, branches spiralling towards the sky. The water moistens the soil, creates rain, waters plants and gives food to the animals that have also awoken. The Country is alive, alive and wild and free.
A man crashes into the waves.
He dives, further and further into the ocean, into the depths where no human would be able to see. Tangaroa is no human.
He has nothing, could do nothing after the onslaught. From his own brother. He trusted him – that’s his repayment? To throw his life into chaos? The sea around him, even now, bubbles and bursts like a boiling soup, fish and reptiles seeking refuge. Even Tangaroa is jostled about as he tries to still the sea.
He must hide. Now, before his realm dies.
His legs kick powerfully through the sea, equipping it like a horse he holds the reins of. Waves crash, metres high, on the surface. But underneath, in the dark, it’s as if he has blocked out the noise himself. But he must get to land, to find a place to hide. He pokes his head out, glancing around. There is no land.
Humans live on the Country now, fishing in the water, wary of the lakes. They know what could come out if they venture too close.
The serpent wakes, her stomach rumbling. What will she eat? She barely eats – once every thousand years – but there’s nothing in sight. The world is flooded, completely flooded, turbulent waters crashing on the land. Two people, soaked and shivering, race up to the serpent. All she sees is food.
“Can you give us shelter from the rain?” they ask.
The serpent smiles. “I have no shelter. But stay in my mouth, and you will be dry.”
They race into her open trap, into her mouth, satisfying her hunger.
Did they deserve to be tricked? All they wanted was safety. They wanted a place to stay, they wanted to live. She gave them only death. Was it fair? No. And the other people will want them back. They seemed nice.
If she makes something to make up for it, everything will be okay. People love presents.
They run about their few high places, calling out for the lost brothers, back and forth, north and south. The tribe knows the brothers have visited the rainbow serpent for help, they must have. They always try that. But who knows where they really went? Maybe they drowned in the endless turbulence.
We can only hope.
Tangaroa swims as fast as he can away from the land he knew, from his brother’s torture. There. A tree, a single, struggling tree. Life. His legs push him on, closer and closer-
Colours shine in the sky, as if painted. Rainbow colours.
A huge rainbow snake hangs in the sky, arching across it, displaying its magnificence to all willing to see. Repentance hangs in the air, falling like mist. Poor snake, holding itself in the pouring rain and thunder. The intensity comes closer. My brother looks at me. Then the snake.
Then everything stops. {676 words}
~~~~~~~
(Part 2. Change one thing about a historical event)
Posters still hang across the street, some charred, some drawn on.
‘Vote Lincoln,’ they scream in hopeless letters. ‘Vote Lincoln To End Slavery’. One poster lies face-up on the ground, a red X covering it. Most of the town has one. I don’t, of course. What foolishness, thinking a nation would vote for the huge loss of money that would end up in. What a waste of paper.
The South deserves better than him.
I have a farm, of course. I’ve got twenty slaves, and they do their work just fine. The old convenience store sits on the corner, the one food source I trust, another good farm. I smile. That’s what this job is about – making lives better. Groceries in hand, I turn, mount Molly, and ride home.
Whistling to myself, I take the letters from the letterbox. There are three envelopes and a newspaper. Chicago Tribune. They need to stop sending us their soppy stories. Although, they are my only source of information.
‘BRECKINRIDGE BARRELS THROUGH,’ the title reads. As if I didn’t know.
I skim over the depressing narrative of tyranny and cruelty, the evil pictures they paint. He’s going to spread slavery to the western territories. About time. Then again, nobody else could manage. But if Lincoln had got in, there would have been something bigger. There could have been war. {226 words}
~~~~~~~~~
(Part 3. Character Meet-up)
A bird flies up to the woman’s face, chirping madly. Throwing open the door to her balcony, she nods, grabbing an ornate umbrella from its vase. The bird flies off. It’s not a job this time. She doesn’t have to look perfect. Does she? Maybe she should go back and tie her hair up, put on a bow instead of a loosely draped scarf, take off her worn red coat for her best midnight blue one. No. It’s not a job this time.
Opening her umbrella with a flourish, she leaps off the balcony.
The little bluebird leaves the house, her work done. Diving into the stars below, wind rushing past her, she flies into the darkness.
The bird is thrust into a world of bright colours and endless trees. She opens her wings just at the right time, adrenaline coursing through her body, arriving at a small cottage where the old dwarves used to live. Snow-white’s radiant smile races out to greet her.
“Is she coming?” she asks, breathless.
The bird chirps. She beams.
The lady hurries through the cottage, ducking under the roof made for dwarves, to the man who was a prince. “She’s coming, Florian.”
His eyes open wide, and he sits up. “Mary?” She nods. “I knew she’d say yes.”
Moments later, she hears footsteps, padded by fallen leaves. Racing to the door, she finds Mary in a red coat and hat, a scarf draped around her neck, smiling at the lovely sight. Mary smiles at her like they’ve known each other for a thousand years. To Mary, they almost have, at the boundaries of worlds she was too afraid to cross. Until now.
“How have you been?” she says, like they are the only ones in the world.
“Very well, but all the better with you.” {310 words}
~~~~~~~~
(Part 4. Magical Realism)
Yesterday I thought the magic touch was a good thing.
Yesterday, at my very touch, faces brightened, places organized themselves, things just happened. Not today. Not since I wore the silver ring.
Now I’m realizing the effect of the magic touch. It stops me from doing things that would otherwise have been normal – making the bed, putting dishes in a dishwasher, typing on a keyboard. I thought I didn’t use the magic touch for much. Now I’m beginning to realize that isn’t true.
Today alone, I’ve tried to make the bed twice, and it looks like a small cyclone passed through. I’ve tried to type an email once and it came out as gibberish, again at about ten words per minute. I try, though. I still try.
Without the magic touch, am I me? Am I who I’m supposed to be without it? Or am I just… like any other person? Am I- normal?
The touch separated me from the rest. The touch let me do everything. It let me be my best. My parents said it’s in the hands, not the mind. School says it’s in the mind, not the hands. Now I have neither. What do I do? {200 words}
~~~~~~~
(Part 5: If These Walls Could Talk)
The stone walls of St. Andrew Undershaft stand strong, stable through hundreds of years of watching things grow and decay around it. If it could talk, it would tell the people who want a better life that theirs is better than those who didn’t survive the Plague and those who did, those who came for prayers to save their family instead of finding a better house. It would tell them stories of a fire that licked at its base but never quite took it, of a Blitz that skimmed its walls but never quite destroyed it. The church would show the people where their ancestors scratched the walls, who spilt juice on the floor thirty years ago. So many things it will never say.
The cathedral still remembers when it was built, when people still had to climb ladders and lay every sandstone brick, when cranes didn’t exist, and people made the churches look ornate and beautiful. Since then, so many things have happened, so many things the church could have told the people. If it could speak, it would tell the ones who survived the Plague that it gets better. It would tell the people who survived the Great Fire that it gets better. It would tell those who survived the Blitz that it gets better. It always gets better. {221 words}
~~~~~~~~
(Part 6: Regional Differences)
1: “He will live long, but only if he does not know who he is.” I overheard it five years ago.
Now, I’m wandering in the forest, the thick, dull canopy pressing the sun away. Animals skitter away from me as I stroll, leaves crunching to dust under my feet. A shadow rises from a bush, a young woman.
“I am Echo,” she says. “I’ve watched you walking in the forest for some time. Your beauty always amazes me.” She pauses. “I… I love you, Narcissus.”
I stare down at her – her golden hair, her pale skin, and brown eyes. Not for me. I turn and walk away, never glancing back at her.
After a while, a spatter of ash mixes in with the oak, and wildflowers poke from the ground, small purple petals among the forest of green. A still lake catches my attention. Rays glisten on the water where trees don’t hang over it, and white flowers bloom boldly in patches. Moving closer, I see dragonflies dance on the surface. I see a man in the lake.
The man’s face is hard to make out, but he wears an orange tunic with a brown cape draped over it, exactly the same as mine. I move closer to see his face, and he comes closer to me. He has brown hair locked in captivating curls, curls I could stare all day at, a strong jawline, eyes as bright and vibrant as the sky but as deep as the sea, reflections sparkling like stars. His lips seem to push out of his face. So beautiful, yet-
I reach my hand to his face, and the water ripples, clouding the man’s face. I’ll never reach him. But I could stare at him for days, and days, and days… {296 words}
2: So. A man walks into a forest. Trees everywhere, mostly oak but a bit of ash and beech here and there, grass up to your knees. The man’s called Narcissus.
Of course, he should know people want him – they reach out to touch him on the streets, but he doesn't want a scrap of it. Not into that stuff. So what does he do when some rando comes out of a bush, saying she stalks him, and she likes him?
Exactly what he did to everyone else. Gets up and goes the other direction.
This one’s a bit more of a sore loser than the rest. She can’t even bear to live with his rejection. Grow up. It happens. But anyway, she wanders around, completely soulless, until her whole body is gone. Just like that. Vanished into the mist. And they say she’s still around, talking back to us, but do you seriously believe that? I didn’t think so.
Anyway, Narcissus keeps walking, forgets about Echo as he does with everyone else. Then he catches his reflection in a lake. Loads of lilies and things on there as well, of course, but all he sees is himself. Thinks it’s another man, of course. So he stares into it like it’s his life, and he could stare at it forever. He didn’t quite do that. Once he realised he could never get to ‘the man in the lake’, he didn’t want to live anymore and turned into a flower. Which is still staring into the lake. {255 words}

-lxve-bug- wrote:

pup's thread (boy am i late :skull: )


AYYYY IM 100TH LMAO

daily for poetry !! 271 words <3

Dear Hermione Granger,

Hello! My name is Puppy. I know you don’t know me, but I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you. From the time that I was six years old to now, you’ve always remained an inspiration to me. You have all the qualities that I admire. You’re kind, caring, so intelligent, and you’ve shaped my personality growing up. All throughout elementary school, I admired you more than you’ll ever know. I STILL admire you. I didn’t want to just know you, I wanted to BE you. All my life you’ve remained one of my favorite, strong female characters. It really hurts me that your creator turned out to be a rather terrible person, because you’re basically the only thing I have left now. I wish I could go back and read each of the Harry Potter books for the first time again. It’ll never be the same as it was when I opened an old, dingy copy of Harry Potter and read the first sentence. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet drive, are proud to say they are perfectly normal, thank you very much.” Your story deals with all sorts of magic, but no charm could prepare me for the magic of that very first sentence. I’ve cherished you and your books throughout all these years. You’ve helped me make some of my most important decisions. You really are one of my biggest inspirations and what I aspire to be. You’re one of my best friends, and I hope we can continue to be together for a very, very long time.

With love,
Puppy

Date UTC: March 8
Time Comp. UTC: 10:13pm
Prompt Sum.: Write a thank you note to a woman who made an impact
Point Value: 200
Extra Points?: 100 for proof
Total Points: 300
Word Count: 221/200
Dear Mrs. J (as I’ll call you for the sake of privacy),
Gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you. Ever since you left this world, it’s been a rollercoaster. I’m so grateful for the impact you’ve had on my life, even if it might seem rather minute.
I remember when I first met you, sometime in 5th grade. You were the nicest lady I had ever met at church. You always gave me airheads and lollipops and cute little compliments that always made my day. You were the sweetest lady ever, and I remember you fondly.
Even after I went into middle school you were still there, saying hi to me when I passed you in the hallway, encouraging me when I took leadership roles and even just plain giving me the time of day. You’ve given me such encouragement throughout my years of knowing you.
You’ve also impacted other people at church. Every one of your students loved you, your family adored you, and God saw you as his child.
You were such an inspiration, and I miss you terribly. I hope that you and God are having fun up in heaven.
Your memory still lives on and your family still remembers you fondly. You were a survivor, and I was blessed to have met you.

Daily #8
3/8/2024
219 words

Ms. S,

Thank you for being my teacher. Thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone and to be more confident in myself.
I’ve never been the best at talking out loud, especially on Zoom calls. But with your persistent nudges and assurances, it made a difference in how I interact with others. You always encourage being messy when coming to mic. We don’t have to have a formulated response, but we can figure it out and discuss our thoughts out loud.
I love how you always tell us that we are the ones who have autonomy, even if we don’t feel like it sometimes. We have the power to create and we are able to use it.
You understand that there are so many things we can learn from one another and you feed those discussions, leading us into a better understanding of different perspectives.
There are so many nuggets of advice, knowledge, and confidence that you have instilled in me. It’s still uncomfortable for me to reach a point where I feel comfortable talking through my thoughts out loud and sharing them, but it’s easier.
Thank you for being unapologetically yourself and for patiently nudging me out of my comfort zone. You pushed me to my potential and made me feel comfortable getting there.

Eevee

March 8 Daily
256 words

Dear Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony,
What can I say to one of the most incredible duos in history, to the women who made suffrage possible? Without your tireless work, the 19th amendment may not have been passed when it did. Granted, you may have primarily affected women in the United States, but your contributions to the suffrage movement go far beyond simply rallying for the vote. Perhaps what I want to thank y’all for the most is the fact that you helped create a sisterhood, something that I now have come to appreciate. You weren’t just getting countless women together to ask for the vote, you were creating a sisterhood that stretched across the country, a community of women that worked together. And while I know that you split into factions deeper into the movement, without y’all to trailblaze initially, those organizations wouldn’t have been possible. In the end, I hope y’all got to see the fruits of your efforts. The turning over of the suffrage movement to the next generation was perhaps the epitome of the sisterhood y’all created, and I hope you know that they respected y’all not just because you did the initial work for them, but also because you made it possible for them to be together and to support each other. Because there was no one more reflectant of this sisterhood than y’all, a perfect balance between rhetoric and emotion, logic and personality, wisdom and intelligence. So thank you. I hope your winter wheat has made you proud. (/ref *wink*)

‎‎ ‎

formatting later i have to get this in asap

Dear Mom,

I'm just going to put it out there- Thank you for believing in me, and making sure I believed in myself. I am where I am now because of you and your kind, thoughtful words. When I felt down, you told me that I get to choose how I feel, that I can make my own decisions in life to enjoy it to the fullest.

You're a really busy person, with work, chores, and so many others, but you've always been able to stay on top of it. Even with all that, you've always managed to make time for me, my brother, and Dad. I'm proud and indeed lucky to have such a wonderful mother, not to mention one that cooks absolutely delicious meals for the whole family.

Even at times we make mistakes, your harshness is always followed by words of encouragement, telling us that improvement is the key to success, and that admitting our mistakes and setting a goal to make sure it doesn't happen again, is a crucial part of learning anything.

Thank you for always being there for me. Your love and guidance has brought me here, and I will be eternally grateful for all of it.

Love,
Sooeun

(205 words)

Daily 008: 200 words, To my Mother <3

Dear Mom,
Thank you for always being there when I needed to talk. Thanks for supporting our family even when it’s hard, and dedicating your life to others. Thanks for persevering even when it’d be easier to give up, and thanks most of all for your love.
You keep this household running, and none of us would be here today without you. You are teacher, cook, lover, the one who kisses the scraped knees and smooths cream on the burns. You are the one who makes beautiful things happen and makes food for us to eat and gives talks when we most need them, even if they aren’t always what we really want to hear. They’re what we need to hear, and that’s what matters. You are the one who makes me feel better after a long day, the one I can talk to about all the hard things that happen with growing up. You are the one who understands in a way that no one else I know can. You are the one who braids my hair when nothing else works right and the one who tells me that what I’m wearing looks beautiful.
Thanks for everything, with love.

Hmm.
You know, I thought really hard about who to write to. It made sense to write to some famous historical figure, someone who made a great contribution to society, someone whose name is well-known the world over.
However, what’s the point in a letter addressed to someone who will never read it? A thank-you note is meant to let someone know that you appreciate them. I want these words to have an effect on someone, because just this once, my SWC writings are intended for an audience other than myself (which is nOt something I’m skilled at doing… -w-”).
And so I thought about people who have affected me personally, those who I’ve actually talked to and shared experiences with. It soon became clear that there’s someone who I’ve never gotten to properly thank recently, because I never got around to finishing those thank-you notes from last year.
As you’ve probably figured out from the fact that I’m sending this to you personally, that would be you, Poppy. You’ve been a huge inspiration to me in every session we’ve been in together. You’re definitely one of the coolest people I’ve met as a result of SWC, and I feel incredibly thankful for the positive influence you’ve had on my life and my writing thus far. You’re so funny and smart and really awesome, not to mention the best at lyric spamming, heheh >;3
I remember you shining the most during Cabin Wars, competitive and chaotic and just making it so much more fun that it would have been otherwise. Whether we’re in the same cabin, allies, or enemies, I can be sure that the Cabin Wars experience is better with you in it. And then in NaNoWriMo, I’m being totally honest when I say that I wouldn’t have managed to finish the challenge last November if it wasn’t for the urge to keep up with you and compete with your word count every day. Your precense is constantly encouraging me.
In conclusion, I just really want to say that

-lxve-bug- wrote:

pup's thread (boy am i late :skull: )


AYYYY IM 100TH LMAO

+197 words
@-simplywatermelon- our ocs are so messed up justice for lark and maverick

“lark? I'm scared” a kid wispered.
“shhh… its ok. when i was younger my mom used to sing me a lullaby during blackouts. maybe singing it for you will help?” she could see the childs silhouette against the dark, and she could see the young one nodding their head. she scooted over, put the child in her lap, and began to sing. she held the child and the small locket her mother had given her, and tried to keep the tears from dropping as she sang. she closed her eyes, and as she finished her lullaby, she realized the child was asleep in her lap. lark carefully tucked the child in and then realized she had nowhere to sleep. unfortunately, lark was no stranger to this, as she often gave up her bed for the younger kids. she laid down on the cold ground, and curled up in a fetal position. she stared at the wall, finally letting the tears spill from her eyes in silent sobs. she misses her mother, she hates the dark, and shes sleeping on the gound. she clutched her necklace as sobs racked her small frame. “mommy,” she whispered, “i miss you,”

Part 1. Crossover:

Anubis stood there, staring at the other two figures in front of him.
“Who are you?” the woman on the left asks.
“Um- I don't feel safe when you have like a million hands with weapons!” the man on the right replies.
“I actually don't have that many if you counted,” she replies curtly.
“So- What are your names?” Anubis asks, trying to get remove the ice between them.
“Durga,” the woman looks at Anubis, her brown eyes piercing his eyes. “And you?”
“Anubis, god of death.”
“Poseidon, god of the ocean,” the other man spoke up. “What are you the goddess of?”
“Many things. Why are you here?” she replies vaguely.
Anubis nudges Poseidon, who starts, “I received a message from the oracle-”
“You do realize that I do not know what many of your myths and stuff mean, right?” she interrupted.
“A prophecy. we received a prophecy,” he continued. “It told me to find a goddess of war and a god of death that I had to meet to stop someone from taking over the world.”
“Couldn't you have gone to your own goddess or war and god of death?” Anubis asked, clearly not knowing the answer to this.
“I went to Hades, but he said that he had received a call from another god of death, which was you. When I went to Athena, she pointed out that if it was a different god of death, then it couldn't have been her. It took us a while, but we figured it was you.”
“I see. If that's the case, then you've still partially got the wrong person. There are multiple goddesses for war.”
“Well, we can't speak to them all!” Anubis exclaimed in irritation.
“I do know what we need to do,” Durga indicated for the two of them to follow her to where in the distance stood a large shadowy creature.
“What is that?!” Poseidon squinted trying to figure out what it was.
“It's the light.”
“It's not bright in color…” Anubis commented.
“Very funny. It's life, but it got stuck in death. Now it is both life and death.”
“So, can't Anubis just suck the death away?” Poseidon shrugged. “Why are we ever here?”
“Because, the people are stuck in-between death and Life, if you remove death, they are lost from the world!” Durga slapped her forehead.
“I'm going to try to drag them to the world of the living!” Poseidon brought forth water, drenching the cloud of the darkness. Anubis tried to drag the people from the world of death.
“Stop! Some of these people shouldn't be brought back!” Durga grabbed their arms, but they didn't stop. She ran into the cloud, and started fighting the ones who were brought back, striking them and sending them completely into the world of the dead.
After a long time, it was all done.
“Why'd you run into the cloud?” Anubis was eating something.
“You wouldn't stop. Some of these people should not come back,” She gestured for the lion nearby to come closer and then sat on top. “Well then, I think you two should head home.”
“I hope we meet again,” Anubis smirked.
“I don't,” Durga and her lion flew into the skies.
“That was interesting..” Poseidon walked into the waters and seemed to vanish.
Anubis stood there for a few more seconds before vanishing.
+560 words


Part 2: Original Characters in Historical Times:

I opened my eyes, looking around.
*where am I*
“Where did you get those?” I turned my head to look at person nearest to me.
“Who are you?” I asked. The girl wore a large dress.
“I'm Elizabeth.”
“Cool. I'm Lillianna.”
“Are you wearing male clothing?” She asked.
“Male clothing? Girls wear it too? You look like you are from the 1900s, did you get stuck time travelling?”
“Time travel? What is that? Now, if you would come with me, we can get you proper clothing,” she smiled.
I shook my head, “I'm alright.”
“And your hair! Why is it so short?”
“Cause I cut it short?” I cocked my head, confused. “Isn't is 2128?”
“What are you talking about? Now, come let's get you a wig while we're at it. Do you have a husband?”
“I'm 23!”
“So? You're slightly late…”
Lilliana growled and stomped off.
“Well, have fun,” Elizabeth called after her.
“I will! Especially without you!”
Lillianna marched away angrily towards the nearest bar.
“One strong drink please,” she placed a few coins on the table.
“But- you're a woman..? And what are you wearing?”
“Do you want the money or not?” Lillianna placed a hand on the coins.
“Fine,” he handed her the drink and she slid the coins over to him.
Downing the whole glass, and a few more, she made her way back to the door. The other men, noticing her, tried to get her attention, and take her along, but she turned them all down.
“I think you're wearing the wrong clothes, aren't you embarrassed?”
“No, now let me alone.”
He inched over, “I like you, come over, let's get together,” he smirked.
“F— off!”
“Someone has strong language,” he laughed.
“If you f— with me, you're so done u little s—!”
He laughed.
“I'm f—ing done,” she slammed the door shut behind her and made her way to the same location where she stood before and a swirling sensation took over as she reappeared in her present time.
+336 words

Part 3: Mixing in a Little Magic:
I stood up, my legs shaking. I looked down. I was wearing black clothes.
*What is going on?*
“What's going on?” I asked the girl nearest to me.
“How do you not know?” She rolled her eyes. “We've been training for this day for so long.”
“Huh?”
“To become the greatest Assassin capturers.”
“Oh…” I looked back at the people on the stage, who were talking about how we had trained for years for this day.
“You will now receive your mark to give you your role for the rest of your life,” the man who wore purple spoke up, his purple shining against the sun.
I made my way to the back of the crowd as quick as possible. I didn't like this man and I didn't trust this place. A symbol appeared on my right hand. A silver dual pair of swords.
“Eliminate all of the people with anything that has something to do with a weapon!” The man in purple called above all the noise.
I turned and ran. I had no idea where I was going, but all I knew was that I has a symbol of a weapon and they wanted to k/ll me.
“Oh dear. Here comes another group,” I heard a voice say.
I looked in the direction of the voice. There was a group of old people a little bit away and then I looked back. They were right. Not a large group, but a group nonetheless. I ran up to the women and as I passed some invisible like barrier, I felt a tingling sensation where my symbol was.
Some of the other people were able to make to it where I was, but the some of the other people were unable to go past a specific point, and they turned back quickly.
“Little ones, I understand you have been marked as assassins,” one of them spoke from the door. “Come inside, we will teach you everything you need to know to become a skilled assassin.”
We all trooped into the house, which turned out to be a lot bigger.
“How did you stop all the other Assassin hunters from coming here?” a boy near me asked.
“It's an invisible barrier, took years to perfect. No one can see this house either. It just looks like a bunch of you children were standing there. We are hidden along with the house now.”
After we were given our rooms, we went to have dinner. The next morning, after eating, we made our way outside.
“Now, you shall receive your we@pon.”
My arm tingled and felt something appear on my back. Feeling it, I found out that it was a pair of dual swords.
“We will be training you all in the art of your we@pon,” one of them spoke.
For years, we trained. It was hard and rigorous. We trained from before the sun rose to after the sun set. It was many years later, and we were ready. We were going to go out into the world and start to take out other hunters.
I made my way around, taking out Assassin hunters, but as time went on, I was suspicious. Why were we taking down Assassin hunters anyway? What had they done and what had we done to them?
One evening, I caught a hunter and decided to question them.
“I'm not going to k/ll you on one condition,” I grabbed her arm and dragged her to a private location.
“Tell me. Why were you told to k/ll us.”
“Because you k/ll us!” she exclaimed.
“We only k/ll you because you k/ll us!” I replied shocked.
“It's an endless loop…” she stared at my eyes.
“Interesting, but that's it. You're done,” I st@bbed the sw0rd into her.
“Well, if only they knew…” I murmured.
Someone had done something, causing everyone to think that Assassins and Assass1n hunters were different. For days, in between my missions I tried to find books on this. People who didn't have any mark never suspected anything. If we k/lled someone we made it look like it was natural, not one of us. Those people didn't even know that we existed.
After a few months I had found enough. The teacher back at the Assassin hunter school, her grandmother had stirred this up. I wasn't going to change anything, but I was going to try to convert some of the hunters to my side.
The hunters are the fakes. The true Assassins were us. Some idiot had decided to make people believe that Assassin's can be good, but that is not possible. We were born to do this. The ones who were converted by the actual evil became “good.” All I had to do was take over the school.
“Everyone!” They turned to look at me.
“Listen to this,” I took a breath and started explaining.
It took a while before I convinced them to help me take over the school.
We made our way to the school that night. There were some magical boundaries', but nothing our magic assassin couldn't take care of. As we made our way through the school, we encountered some late night students and other people. They told me to keep going, and they'd catch up. It took a while, but I finally made it up to the one locked room. Prying open the door, I looked inside. There stood a glowing ball, pulling something out of the shadows and feeding it to the ball. I pulled out the dual swords and then froze. I couldn't move.
“Well well well. What do we have here?”
“H-Hema?”
“That's headmistress to you.”
“You're not my headmistress!”
“You're caught in my magic. I'm reenrolling you in the school and when you get out, you're going to be a hunter.”
I struggled against the magic, but was unable to break free. I sighed in resignation as she handed me the forms.
“How am I going to sign these if I can't move?” I tried to drop the papers and was able to.
“What?! How is that possible?!” Hema ran over with a pen.
“Because of me,” one of her students stood at the door, along with one of our members.
I picked up the sw0rds off the ground and slashed the crystal ball. I watched as the symbol on the student's hand switched to the one of an Assassin.
Shouts of fear and amazement came from around the school and someone had infiltrated the office and started explaining the situation.
As we stood there in amazement as the whole school rumbled and shifted, we didn't notice the older assassins come in and take away the others and start fixing the school up for the next session of assassins.
+1130 words

Part 4: Oral Retelling:
Eli leaned against the tree, wincing.
“Eli, be careful! You know your not fully better, right?” A boy tried to smile, but looked concerned.
“It's fine Aro, really,” Eli gestured for Aro to come and sit next to them.
“Eli, can you tell me that story that they said to pass on?”
“Aro, do you not remember it?” Eli asked shocked.
“They never told me, remember. They d!ed before I ‘came of age’ and we ran away.”
Eli stared at the small fire flickering in front of them.
“Keep in mind, this story is not a great one and will shock you. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Yes,” Aro scooched extremely close to Eli.
“Great-great-great grandfather Senzo was going on a hike in the forest next to home, he was trying to find the waterfall that we can hear by our house. The one that we go to see often, since he did find it. It took him days, he had packed as if it was a camping trip. He was determined not to return until he found it. After days of wandering in circles, he found the river. He followed it upstream, where he saw a figure. This figure wore a purple cloak. Senzo asked him if he was also looking for the waterfall. The figure nodded and the two of them walked upstream together. As time went on, Senzo said that he started to feel like he was slowly losing control of himself. When they did reach the waterfall, Senzo could no longer feel anything. He asked the figure if it was a thing because of how majestic the waterfall was. The figure removed their hood. There was no head. Their sleeves, which had the hands were pulled back slightly, and there was only strings on those puppet sticks. Senzo looked for where the strings attached to and he found out that it was him. He was no longer a person, but a puppet. The puppet master told him that he had made a mistake. Senzo pleaded for his life, but the master didn't care. He said Senzo had something about him that was interesting. The next puppet master was going to be one of his descendants. It was not supposed to be that way and for interfering in the way of the puppets, all girls born had to dr0wned in this river. When either 1 or 2 male children were born the wife also had be dr0wned in the river-”
“Why didn't they just not do it?!” Aro interrupted.
“Let me finish. Senzo agreed, since that was the only way to get away. Later, he met the love of his life and had a beautiful daughter. He didn't take her to the river, but the next day, she was gone. The two of them ran to the waterfall, and there, on a rock, was the name of their daughter. A while later, his wife had a boy. A few months later, she went missing. Her name was on the rock.”
“Wait- is that why we go to the waterfall and sit there in silence for a few minutes? Then say the names of multiple random girls?”
“Yes. Anyway, after I was born, we had a girl. Arin. She was beautiful. She was taken. Then you came. Then-” Eli choked.
“Oh. You don't need to finish.”
“No, I'm not done. The interesting thing is, you know how you are slightly different from most boys?”
“Yes?”
“You're a girl, Aro.”
“What!”
“There's one more thing. Great-grandfather Rein found out that the first girl to survive is the next puppet master. The night you came, I lied to the puppet master saying that we had a boy. The master obviously would have known, but he left. After that, we decided to teach you that you were a boy so that if the Puppet master did come back, you wouldn't screw up.”
“I- I-”
“It's alright. Before Papa fell to the strings, he told me to keep you safe from the puppet master as long as possible. I'm going to help you stay away from him. Maybe teach you a few tricks. If you do become a puppet master, I know you won't hurt anyone,” Eli hugged Aro.
Aro hugged him back for a few seconds before asking a question.
“Why didn't great-great-great-grandfather just not get married?”
“He didn't have a choice. The master never cut the strings. He just intervened at a right moment and got them married.”
“Oh.”
Aro stared at the fire for a few seconds before putting it out. The two of them leaned against the tree and prepared to get a few hours of rest before continuing on their way.
+778 words

End:
Magical Realism:
Our hero, Rien stared at the mess in front of him. The parchment was on fire. The the contents in the box were on the ground. The chest was unlocked and empty. The scrolls were in the river. The map was torn up. And some others were pointing we@pons at him.
Granted, you have no idea what is going on. Let me start at the beginning.
Rien was supposed to go find the sparkling egg. Since he was the hero, obviously, that was not going to happen. He needed to find the map. Depending on who holds the map, the path changes. His path was to go through the fire walls, the tall hills, and then the dangerous forest. Honestly, that wasn't as bad as what some others had. As he passed through the fire walls, he found multiple chests and boxes. An old man sat there.
“Excuse me? What are in these boxes?” Rien asked him.
“Truth and Chaos. Your life will be truth and chaos or lies and sanity.”
Rien was pretty much freaking out now. He grabbed a chest and a box and ran. He struggled to go up the hills with the box and chest, but as he neared the top, he saw a few others who had a box and a parchment had fallen out. Placing the stuff down, he picked it up. He was tempted to call out and return it, but then something tugged at him that caused him to keep it. Placing the box on the chest and sitting on it, he slid down the hills at an incredible pace. All he had to do was get through the forest and then he would be at the egg. He made himself a small fire and tried to open the box. It opened, and there were a few bottles and scrolls. Leaving it there, he went to sleep, but forgot to put out the fire. As he slept, something fell on the fire, causing sparks to jump out and land on the parchment. A mouse sat on the box and an owl chased it, tipping over the box. The bottles fell and broke. The scrolls rolled into the river. Some creature came and ripped up the map, taking little chunks for a nest. Some random people came and unlocked the chest, taking whatever was in there, and pointing we@pons at him. He wakes with a start and stares at the mess in front of him.
He looks at the one bottle left in the box and grabs it. He chugged it before looking at himself. Nothing seemed to change. He points his finger at one of the people, hoping it changes something. It blasted the person back. The rest of them grab the person and run. Now, as we watch, Rien cleans up the mess and continues walking in some general direction.
+479 words

Using Sparks from the Past: Retelling
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there existed a realm where magic danced on every sunlit breeze and whispered secrets lingered in the shadows. In this enchanted land, there lived a princess named Snow White, whose beauty was matched only by her kind heart and gentle spirit. However, amidst the splendor of her grace, a dark shadow lurked, cast by her stepmother, the queen, whose heart burned with envy at the sight of Snow White's radiant charm.
The queen, consumed by jealousy, devised a wicked plan to rid herself of Snow White's presence. Disguised as a haggard old crone, she ventured into the forest where the princess often wandered. There, amidst the rustling leaves and dappled sunlight, she presented Snow White with a poisoned apple, promising untold wonders within its ruby-red flesh. Unaware of the treachery concealed beneath the fruit's glossy surface, Snow White accepted the offering, taking a single, fateful bite that would alter the course of her destiny.
As the poison coursed through her veins, Snow White fell into a deep slumber, her once vibrant spirit ensnared by the dark tendrils of enchantment. Yet, when a brave prince, drawn by her ethereal beauty, dared to awaken her with a kiss, the spell shattered, revealing a startling transformation. Instead of returning to her former self, Snow White's heart, tainted by the poison's malevolent magic, twisted with darkness.
Empowered by the eldritch energies that now coursed through her veins, Snow White seized control of the kingdom, casting her stepmother aside and ascending to the throne in her stead. Now, as the ruler of the realm, she wielded her newfound power with an iron fist, ruling with a cold and merciless hand that struck fear into the hearts of her subjects.
The once beloved princess had become a figure of dread and despair, her beauty a mask concealing the depths of her corrupted soul. And so, the tale of Snow White took a sinister turn, as the kingdom trembled beneath the reign of a queen whose heart had been consumed by darkness.
+345 words

total : 3680 words

word war

Sometimes doors don’t go where therye supposed to. Take my trip to the museum last week, for example. It was so confusing. There were doors everywhere. Millions amd millions of doors. After all, it was a museum, and museums have lots of doors. Anyway, this museum had so many doors that looked so interesting, so i couldnt wait to see what each one contained behind it! But none of the doors actually led to where they said they would! I was so confused when i walked into a room labeled the butterfly garden but when i actually emerged, it was a bunny room instead! It was so strange. Then i walked out of there and saw a room labeled the dinosaur room. Oh cool! I thought to myself. so i went in, but instead of dinosaurs, there were only pink flowers! Huh? This isnt where this was supposed to go! I thoiught to myself! Then i saw another door that said danger, danger! Hmm must be another trap, i thought. i wonder what is really behind that door, since every single door here has been lyuing. So i opened the door that said danger and went in. but to my horror, it actuallt was dangerous! There were three venomous snakes inside plus gas fumes swirling around. within a few minutes, i was choking and the sankes were slithering closer and closer! ahhhh! I screamed and ran out of there! What did the musrum have a door like that for? so i guess i learned my lesson that day that even though there are sometimes doors that dont lead where theyre supposed to, you cant be too sure about it or get used to the idea, because sometimes, doors that say somehing actually mean it! anyway, time to conitnue about the doors because my time isnt up yet. So there was this other door that said, free snacks! so i went in, except it led to this really fancy restaurant where in fact you DID have to pay for the snacks! I was so annoyed! I was really hungry especaily after the whole snake incicent, and i had really wanted something free to eat because i was starving and didnt have money with me. I know i know it was my fault, but it was a free museum, okay? The restaurant had a door that said exit, except when i went to exit, it was the bathrooms! This is so confusing! i screamed in frustration! Why do none of the doors lead where I want them to? Except for the one called danger that was actually dangerous? I hate this museum. Im leaving! I said and stormed out of there. the