swc megathread ➷ march 2024

ChueyTheCat

Daily 011: 220 words, Ambition
Author's note: this ended up turning into a bit of a rant lol but don't be concerned; I do feel this way sometimes but I'm also very stubborn and I don't give up haha <3

Curled up in a corner, tip-tip-tap.
I can’t be who you want me to be.
Rain drips, drops, shatters like glass on the pavement.
I don’t want to be who you want me to be.
Sheltering myself behind a barrier of words.
Do you really believe in me?
Creativity, crushed by expectations.
Nothing I do is ever good enough.
They say it’s good, but I know better.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your confidence grow?
Finger poised over “delete,” they say don’t.
With flattering smiles and pretty lies, all lined up in a row.
What do they know? They can’t stop me.
Beaming face but cracking heart.
Reaching for the moon when I can’t even stand.
Burning my way across the sky, trailing ashes.
My heart is on fire, but it turns to charcoal on paper.
Why can’t I be like other people?
Ambition crumbles, assurance dies.
Just childhood dreams. It’s better this way.
Better to erase it all and try again.
Half-filled notebooks, lined on a shelf.
Split myself in half and smiled.
You’ll feel different when you’re older.
Laughed myself silly over old scribbles.
Wondered if I’d feel that way over my new ones.
Shut myself away and plugged my ears.
I don’t care, I don’t want to listen anymore.
Another day. Then I’ll be better, maybe.

justoneyesterday

3/11/2024
word: assumptions

i hate their words and i hate their assumptions.

nothing good ever comes out the mouth of an idiot, and even worse when they were backed up by a fool. it was just her luck that she had just encountered both.

here she stood at the scene of the crime, a clueless look on her face. the blaring blue and red lights flashed in her face as she stood stockstill, watching as the world moved on without her.

the person in front of her, she didn’t understand anything they were saying. they seemed like an absolute idiot, blabbering around with their hands flailing in the air. somebody was beside them, a fool most likely, trying to shove a piece of paper with unknown words in her face.

what on god’s green earth was going on? just a hour ago she was laughing with her friends at the school cafeteria, and the next there we seemingly hundreds of people milling around, panicking.

assumptions get people nowhere. a wrong assumption could land an innocent person in jail, while another could let loose a criminal mastermind. it was quite silly, really, how ordinary people thought they knew everything. all she had to do was smile sweetly and pretend to know nothing. it always worked.

she felt the dagger in her sleeve. her secret was safe.

Last edited by justoneyesterday (March 11, 2024 23:04:42)

sophcamps

✉ seawater
235 words

tired.
she was tired.
tired of all the projects, stacked at her desk, tired of the constant reprimanding that overwhelmed her at school, tired of turning on the television after school and seeing more and more and more and more news about war.
the exhaustion threatened to swallow her whole, dragging her into its cold and uncaring waves, water crashing over her head until-

quiet.
she was underwater.
warm, gentle waves crested against the shores as the sea picked her up and carried her in its caring arms. “you're okay, i'm here for you,” it whispered in her ears, and she closed her eyes, simply feeling the cool relief that swept over her.

music.
she finally heard the music of the ocean.
it was so much more than she had expected.
the current wasn't always cruel. the gentle yet powerful flow of water cruised by her as she swam after it, marvelling at its strength.
a pod of whales swam by, singing to each other in their alto voices, and she laughed as she watched the gentle giants float by.
the heat from the geothermal vents warmed her body, and she sat by one, brushing seaweed out of her face, as she bathed in the warmth that she never knew the ocean could radiate.

she blinked open her eyes.
“i see you've finally caught up on your work.”
she smiled.
“yes, i suppose i have.”

prompt: do some introspection and create a 200-word story out of it

Last edited by sophcamps (March 11, 2024 23:56:18)

Gladiolus12

word war, 439 words

In the presence of ghosts, there was only one thing to do. I had to become a ghost myself. When i first heard the low, ghostly, creepy sounds in my ceiling, i quickly ran uop to my room and rummaged through my closet until i found a big white shete. The sheet was so buig that it covered my entire body, i quickly thre it over my head and marched down into the living room., then i started making my own creep ghist sounds, ha! I think i showed that ghost! I didnt hear any more creepy sounds for the rest of the night. But when i went up into the attic later i discoevred that the window had been open and the nosuie had probably come from the wind getting in trhough teh windiw! I was so embarrassed that i had actually thought it was a ghist so i thre away the sheet in anger. But the next day, the creepy sounds came back, and get this! The lights started flickering too! I was so scared, i thoug tmaybe the window in teh attic was ppen again, but when i went up to look, no, it was closed shut! And plus, how could the lights be flickering? Maybe there really was a ghist after all! And i had thrown my sheet away! Oh no, what was i going to do? Then the ghost showed up in front of me and said boo! I jumped right out of my skin. “No, please go away,” i said to the gghost. “I dont want you in my house.” the ghost kaughed and said im reLly not that bad you kknow. People are always scared of me but really im a very nice ghjsot. You know, in the presence of ghosts you should always dance! Ghosts love to dance! Oh really, i said. Well what dance do you like? And the ghist said, the ghost dance! You basically just float around and say bioo all the time, and thats it! So i did the ghist dance with my friend the ghist and it was really fun. But the the ghost got mad at me because aooarently i wasnt dancing right, so he got mad and left my house. So now my house isnt haunted anymore, thats the good thing! The bad thing is that now i hdont have any friends and im lonely. But it’s okay. I stil have fifty three seconds to go and i have no diea what to write about so i will jus keep writing random stuff until i hit the timer and it is almost done and

-WildClan-

Oh man, what great timing for this prompt; I’ve been thinking a lot about this kind of thing lately.
I’m happy about the progress I’m currently making in my life. I’m happy about my hobbies, my communities (including SWC), my friends, and the success I’ve had in school. I’m happy that new technologies are being invented and new discoveries are being made just about every day. I’m happy that despite the bad things in the world, there are so many beautiful, meaningful things, too.
I would like to change my tendency to procrastinate, and get motivated from other things besides the stress of deadlines. I would like to change my parents’ career situations so that they’re happier. I would like people to be more open-minded and accepting of those who are different from them.

Wild was at that stage in their life where their whole future seemed laid out ahead of them.
“I feel like if I just keep up what I’m doing, I can achieve most of the things I want to achieve, given time. As I see it, I’m on the right course; my maps have been drawn, my plans made. I just have to start setting events into motion,” they think to themselves.
Their characters- the Half-Canon ones- make their presence known in Wild’s brain, and they welcome them.
The character voices were sometimes annoying, sometimes distracting, and talking to them was viewed by others as weird, but Wild didn’t care. The voices were a part of them, and they loved each other. They were their creativity, their imagination, their memory, their thoughts. Everything that Wild considered their identity, they contained within themselves.
Now, Wild and Half-Canon exist together, both brimming bright with all their plans. This summer, obtain a computer and create a streaming setup in their room, and begin an online career. Soon afterward, initiate the universe of shazarxaean canon. Go to college, study animation and computer science, among other things. Form the shazarxaean universe into a series of coherent plotlines as part of a webcomic, animated series, novel… any media they wanted! Create a community, hopefully a niche one, but maybe larger.
Yes, everything seemed to be lining up just perfectly.
They were ready to take the future as it came.

-vanillamochabear-

daily 11 ;D topic: false accusations and how they affect a person
(no this does not directly relate to me but it does to people i know)

lara sank into the couch, crossing her arms and intensely studying the floral patterns of the carpet. she knew her fate would come eventually, so it was rather worthless to be putting it off. still, it felt nice, the calmness of her least favorite room in the world. all too soon, she heard the sound of heels clicking on plastic-y floors, and spied the golden doorknob turning. the counselor came and had a seat next to her, staying silent. she was wearing a pair of hot pink cat eye glasses today - lara thought they were atrocious, but she knew better than to say anything.

she'd learned her lesson a long, long time ago. silently, she began her countdown -
five, four.
three, two.
one.
it's timed perfectly, but she doesn't have it in her to celebrate.

“i'll give you a chance, lara,” the lady begins, “do you have anything to tell me?”
“no,” she says, flatly.
mrs. whatever narrows her eyes. “well, are you sure about that?”
resisting the urge to yell defensively, she responds politely; “yes, ma'am.”
the gaze that's fixed onto her never leaves. she keeps staring at the carpet. finally, there's a deep sigh, and the tension between them snaps like a twig.
“teacher's keys, stolen. no one else could've done it - i don't believe you, lara.”
“i - ” she begins, but is cut off abruptly.
“no, that's strike two. one more, and you're expelled.”

so that was that. she'd been polite, hadn't raised her voice, hadn't even committed anything marginally wrong, yet trouble had found its way to her. what more was there to “work on”? in what other ways could she “improve upon herself”?
how was she expected to “change for the better”, if no one believed her when she did?

with a defeated sigh, she began to plan her first crime in, oh, maybe a year.

Last edited by -vanillamochabear- (March 11, 2024 23:42:16)

Rey_venclaw

I know who I am. I’m very sure of myself.
I know what I like, what my interests are, what my beliefs and values are. I can tell exactly what will help any kind of physical pain or unpleasant emotion I happen to experience. I can usually tell if I like a piece of media just by the description. I know the kinds of things I say when I’m being authentic, and I can change that up to sound like anyone I want. I’ve had the same career interests most of my life, and my favourite band has been the same since I was two years old.
Understanding who I am, that’s easy. Communicating that to others? Nothing could be harder. I say something and mean one thing, but not a single other person interprets it that way. People tell me I’m too emotional when I’m not even feeling anything much, so when something big actually is going on, sometimes I unconsciously downplay it, saying “a bit” when I mean “a lot”.
I make an outfit I love, and people say “I’m surprised you’re wearing that, and proceed to inform me it makes me seem like something I’m not. What exactly that something is, that always changes.
I know who I am on the inside. But I can’t get the outside to match.

Gladiolus12

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Last edited by Gladiolus12 (March 12, 2024 00:05:26)

AmazaEevee

Daily #11
3/11/2024
231 words

The thing I want to change is be more vulnerable and have a better relationship with my family, though it address a lot more than that…
Some things were taken in artistic liberty to get the poem to sound right.

giggling with hugs, countless hours passing
stomachs hurting from long bursts of laughter
seemingly no end to the jokes exchanged
the time she spends with her family

whispering in the dark, secrets shared and kept
conversations lasting into the wee hours of the nights
the ticking of the clock is a hum in the background
strong bonds with her family

sniffling sobs and a comforting smile
nursing bruises and holding their hand
“you're going to be okay”
she gets them through the hard times

breakdowns and streaming tears
incoherent words and muffled cries
her weakness shows, but she's still strong
she gets hugs and kisses and well wishes

—-

i hide from people and stay in the dark
i care too much and care too little
time with jokes shared seem enough
but too little

i talk to them, but do they talk to me
i think my mouth moves faster than i can think
do they trust me with their thoughts?
i'm not sure exactly who they are

i'm here for them, but sometimes i'm not sure how
to comfort them in the way they need now
i want to help, but it's awkward
how i'm just standing in the corner

the pillow hears all my tears
i think that i can't let them hear
i don't know how i should ask for help
but the hugs i do get, i savor

Last edited by AmazaEevee (March 11, 2024 23:57:59)

xXFierroOrFalafelXx

I sit alone in the universe with the cosmos around me, my atmosphere a curtain between us. I have lived billions of years, the dreams of life are the blood in my veins, their bones and memories buried deep in my rock, and in there lies my love for them. I have been here for billions of years, and I am surrounded by the life that I have created watching as it changes I remember everyone of you, I remember when it rained fire, I remember my first children and I watched as they grew. And as I changed I lost so many of you, I never learned your languages to tell you I loved you. All I could do was give you shelter and food, but it was never enough. Each one of your lives and dreams has faded into me and I will hold them forever, never to lose them. But bones and memories and dreams only remind me of my loneliness. If I have your dreams what do you have in the world beyond if there is what do you have where you have gone now. Do you know now that i loved you? Whatever happens know that there is at least one who will never forget you

-WildClan-

This was REALLY good. The topic is definitely a relatable one, but weirdly, I haven’t actually read much pertaining to this sort of situation. (Not that that writing doesn’t exist, but I haven’t stumbled upon it very often.) The format felt fresh and interesting- kind of a story, kind of a poem, kind of a song. The lyrics interspersed throughout were a nice touch; I don’t think they distracted from the piece at all. Each line being short and fairly simple, sometimes even sentence fragments, definitely benefits the theme. The thoughts feel raw and honest. The emotion comes through nicely, and it being in second-person places all those complicated emotions directly on the reader. I may be biased toward second-person POV (genuinely, I really, really love it; I don’t know why xD), but I really do think this was the right choice of perspective for this piece. Using first-person, it would be mistaken for a vent, and third-person might make for a good character, but then there’d be a distance between the reader and the topic- relatable, but not FELT as deeply- and I don’t think that’s what you were going for. Overall, the pacing is great and I would love to see more writings about this topic, and writings in this format!

CherryMango17

In a world where darkness reigns and heroes falter, emerges a tale where the line between villainy and heroism blurs beyond recognition.
Meet Gabriel Blackthorn, once hailed as the beacon of hope, now feared as the harbinger of despair. In the eyes of the world, he is the epitome of villainy, the orchestrator of chaos and destruction. But behind the veil of his sinister deeds lies a soul tormented by the burden of a tragic past and driven by a relentless quest for justice.
As the shadows deepen and the forces of evil tighten their grip on the realm, Gabriel must navigate a treacherous path fraught with betrayal and redemption. Alongside him stands an unlikely alliance of outcasts and misfits, each bearing their own scars of anguish and defiance.
We invite you to question the boundaries of good and evil. Prepare to embark on an unforgettable journey where the true hero emerges not in the light, but in the shadows.

+160 words

-NightGlow-

word count - 594 words

“About losing a loved one, grief, and comfort…”

Death.

The one thing that we all have in common. We can contemplate for years on end, yet as evitable it may seem, it’s the one inevitable thing everyone eventually succumbs to and has to overcome. It’s the sole thing that connects humanity and gives us a reminder that although we have different beliefs, that maybe there is something rooted deep within us that makes us alike.

The idea of “what happens next” is one that has never failed to alarm me. It was as if we’re all destined for a certain ending. One that has been written as our fate from the moment we entered this world. No matter how hard someone tries to prevail, the light present in darkness overcomes their body – ushering them on a new journey. It’s hard to think that every little event, every single moment in life, and every memory we have either cherished or loathed, is a valuable stepping stone towards the end.

But – is it really the end? Or is it a beginning; a chance to embark on a new journey and take another shot at the way of life? A time for redemption; to amend past regrets and learn from previous mistakes. All of it works in unison, coming together bit by bit. Eventually, the illusion of darkness turns into light, creating a journey of hope.

Unlike other children my age, I always wondered where I would go after taking my last breath. It was often a thought that spiraled in my mind when I felt lost in the space of my room. Life itself felt like a dream – I was living in a sub-reality of what seemed like another being’s imagination. The world just seemed too surreal, too complex, to answer all my questions.

“Dad,” I finally whispered one night, “what will happen to me after this life? You’ve always said that there will be a day when you’re no longer around. Where will you go? Will I be able to see you again?” My eyes were puffed up and red after wiping away the tears that were endlessly dripping down my cheeks. I knew what he was going to say, and just being able to hear it repeated to me was a sense of
comfort I was able to reside in.

“Lara, you don’t have to worry about that right now. I’ll always be here with you, watching over you.” He tapped my shoulder in an attempt to reassure me, but it just added to my worry. I was incredibly thankful for everything I was given in life and would consider myself a pretty lucky person. I had a loving family, friends who adored me, a great education ahead, and passion for dance - a hobby that I held very close to my heart. Everything was even better than I could have ever imagined. Though, the one thing stopping me from living in that fulfillment was the constant doubt that clouded my mind.

“Ok, you don’t seem pretty convinced.” Looking me directly in the eyes, it was as if he was waiting for my response. The deep “fatherly” stare with a big smile plastered across his face made it even harder to ignore it. Even if I wanted to tell him - tell him what was going on in my mind, I’m not sure if I could even translate my complicated thoughts into words. Yet, somehow he understood - even without a single sound coming out of my mouth. The glistening look in my eyes told him everything.

AmazaEevee

Daily #12
3/11/2024
221 words

TEC:
119 words

The borders are closing, tension is rising, and the Nimbostratus is forming.

Elora's whole world shatters when she gets taken one night.

When an interspecies relationship comes to light, the political state between land and sky crumbles. Whispers and gossip about what will happen spread. Elora wakes up to find herself at the very training camp she had hoped was just another one of the rumors.
Under the eye and control of the government, she attempts to lay low, concealing her wind manipulating abilities. There's only so much she can do.

When the two species of land and cloud are turned against each other, a group of teens band together to try and fix the divide in their worlds.

Quest to Find The Voice:
102 words

When Lynda, the Great Priest, is unable to answer the questions of the people and feels that she no longer hears The Voice, she sets off on a quest to return to her roots to find the answers.

When Maeve, a nonbeliever, stumbles upon Lynda attempting to make her way through town, she knew she had to help. Maeve doesn't understand the appeal in believing in an intangible Voice, but she finds Lynda's story worth watching.

Together, the priest and nonbeliever set off for the Eternal Cathedral, a journey filled with teasing and banter, learning to compromise, and introspection into one's beliefs.

-NightGlow-

Critique
@aqua-vibes :: sci-fi
word count - 796 words

But what if I told you that he was asked to leave college because he, a full grown adult at the time, was unable to balance the life of a student athlete?

Ok! So starting off, I'm not entirely sure what format your essay is following - by this I mean that most essays (especially for more formal/academic purposes) avoid the usage of first-person pronouns like “I”. Additionally, questions aren't normally asked in essays since it can be considered “unformal”. Though, if this is an opinion essay please ignore everything I've said so far, because this is amazing in that case. I'd also like to add that when reading further into your paragraphs, I actually liked your usage of “I” as well as the questions you're posing to the reader - all I meant is that if your intent it to write a formal essay, you might want to consider revising those ;D (if not, feel free to keep this format <3)

In Mr. MacPhee’s own words from an article in 2023 he states, “…I spent the first two years in college struggling to balance academics with athletics, coming on and off academic probation, and eventually falling behind so much that I stopped attending classes. Afraid to lose my athletic community, which was strongly tied to my identity, I felt I couldn’t ask for help. I struggled in silence until my final semester grades arrived, and I was informed I’d have to leave school.”

Since you're quoting Mr. MacPhee's words, it's also important to site the source you got this quote from - that way, if the reader wants to look into it, they can go check out that source and learn more. Not only that, but adding an in-text source helps to show credibility in your essay for those that are reading it (so it's just something to keep in mind).

So if an adult that is at the top of the country couldn’t even handle the obstacles student-athletes have to face, why is it fair for us as a society to place these standards and expectations on them?

At this point I'm going to assume that you are writing an opinion/personal essay of some sorts ;D (but regardless, it's important to ensure that you avoid certain things like contractions in essays - such as your usage of “couldn't”). I understand that the corrections that I'm making are for more of a formal essay - so if you'd like me to redo this critique later on, I'd be more than happy to <3 (that being said, I'm going to stop critiquing for these kind of things and focus more on the overall flow like you said!)

This unfeasible amount of pressure that is placed on student athletes shoulders causes stress, sacrifices, injury, and mental health issues.

The part that says “student athletes shoulders” seems a bit wordy, and disrupts the flow when reading - I'd recommend rephrasing it to something like this: “This unfeasible amount of pressure that is placed on the shoulders of student athletes causes unwanted stress, sacrifices, injuries, and mental health issues.” - it's up to you if you'd like to change it, but I think the sentence flows better when worded like this.

So, what better way to add more fuel to this fire than to put it to the Rotary 4 Way Test?

Nothing to critique here - I just wanted to mention that I loved the way that you ended this paragraph! It truly left an impact on me, and I was dying to read more ;D I also enjoy the way you connect your ideas and transition from one to the next - it's done seamlessly with the right meaning and intentions.

We cannot simply assume the truth that the obstacles student athletes face are both unfair and unhealthy without multiple narratives conversing about the subject.

I understand what you're trying to say here, but the part that says “assume the truth that the obstacles” seems a bit unclear when reading through it - I understood it, yes, but I think you could rephrase it to something like this:
“We cannot simply assume that the obstacles student athletes face are both unfair and unhealthy without multiple…” - I know it doesn't change much, but by removing the part about “truth” you still get the meaning across, but in a more effective manner.

So no matter what, everyone is tied to the student half of a student athlete and are directly affected by them everyday.

I feel like the starting of this sentence is great, but near the ending, it becomes unclear who “them” refers to - is it referring to the student athlete themselves, or the student half that is always going to be a part of a student athlete? (just something to consider ;D) – this being said, I'd consider rewording this sentence to: "So no matter what, everyone is tied to the student half of a student athlete, which directly affects how student athletes portray themselves and how society chooses to view them. Due to this, having an importance on one's passion of sports, while also demanding for academic success can be a tiring and overwhelming process to go through.
I know I added a bit more to the ending (you've made me passionate about this subject

), so feel free to use what you'd like - if you would prefer to keep it how it is right now, that's also fine <3

Overall Thoughts:
Crocs! This essay is absolutely amazing - I'm honestly in shock right now because your writing style is so unique and influential <3 When I first started reading I wasn't entirely sure what essay format you were following with (so feel free to ignore some of those critiques) - but now after reading through everything, I've gotten a better understanding of the message you're trying to convey. From just reading your essay, I can tell that you're extremely passionate about this topic - considering that you're a student athlete yourself. That being said, I have no idea how you do it, and I'm in complete awe of how you manage all that you're doing. Keep up the great work! <3

Last edited by -NightGlow- (March 12, 2024 03:07:04)

theawesomemarbler

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Weekly #2

Part 1: Flowers
I had to search for external sources because the flowers I wanted to use weren't in the project :P

“My beautiful sunflowers, please grow up strong and face the Sun! Oh that sounded a bit weird…”
“Oh no, Basil. You sound alright!”

Basil looked at his friends, hanging around in his garden. Many flowers grew there, and Basil made each flower to represent each of his friends. “Roses for Hero because he cares a lot for us! Gladiolus for Aubrey because she's so strong and independent. Lilies for Mari because she's so nice to us and keeps us happy. Cactus for Kel because he is so capable and optimistic! Sunflowers for me because I like the way they face the Sun, kinda like me because I'd love a happy life. And lastly, tulips for Sunny because- uh I don't know… I just really like them and they remind me of him for whatever reason…” Basil said to his friends when discussing which flowers represented each of them. “Oh don't be such a bore on a subject, Basil! Come and let's play!” Kel exclaimed as he ran around the garden. It was a sunny day and everyone was having fun. “Wow, Basil. You really have green fingers! The plants you care for are growing so well! Kinda unlike me…” Basil turned and looked at Aubrey's gladiolus, which was drooping. “Oh let me help!” He said as he cared for the plant. He really adores taking care of plants… Aubrey thought quietly to herself. “Say, Mari. Your recital with Sunny is tomorrow, right?” Hero asked as he planted the seed for his rose. “Yes, Hero. I can't wait to let you guys see what me and Sunny have been planning for the past few months! It's going to be perfect!” Mari said, brushing her hair off her face, reminding Sunny of something. “Hey guys, we have to go. It's getting late…” Hero said as everyone slowly departed.

The following day, Basil was excited for that night. That night was the event of Sunny and Mari's recital after all. “I should check on Sunny, maybe I can help him feel better if he's nervous…” Basil said as he departed his house and went into the following neighborhood. He approached Kel and Hero's house, but they weren't there. “They probably left… I'll go check on Sunny…” Basil arrived at their house and knocked. “Sunny, Mari? Are you guys still in there?” No answer. “Huh, I think they left… Wait no! The door's unlocked!” Basil slowly twisted the doorknob, and what he saw terrified him.

Sunny was standing on the top of the stairs, and at the bottom was Mari. She was laying on the ground, her hair spread across the floor like blood flowing out of her head. “M-Mari? Are you okay?” Basil said as Sunny walked down the stairs, looking shocked. “Sunny, what happened?” Basil asked, trying not to puke. “M-Mari wanted our r-recital to b-be p-perfect… so we decided to practice one more time before… we leave. But I couldn't take it anymore… Every minor mistake we did we have to start over… I couldn't face the stress and threw my violin down the stairs. Mari got so mad she looked scary… I wanted to leave but she blocked my way downstairs, so I-” Sunny couldn't continue his sentence, looking at his sister's body laying on the ground. “I pushed her down the stairs.”

The recital was cancelled. Lilies were placed all over the tree where Mari hung herself. Hero wept, losing the person he loved. Aubrey and Kel were in shock. Basil and Sunny were traumatized. “They mustn't know, Sunny. It's going to be okay…” Basil said as he comforted Sunny quietly. But the lily of the valley is prepared for something, as it also symbolizes death.

621 words

Part 2: Constellations

Fred looked up to the sky, observing the constellations that were hung around the night sky. However, something was amiss. “Eh? Why is there an extra constellation tonight?” He asked, and started sketching out the new constellation onto his notebook through his telescope and quickly rushed to meet his superior.

“Sir, do you knwo what's this constellation? I've never seen it before…” Fred said as he handed his sketches to his teacher, who examined the sketching. “Hmm, I've never seen this before… Wait, I actually do have! In fact, I was the one who sent it to NASA to announce its discovery! Oh dear, my memory's getting worse…” Fred allowed his predecessor to talk before speaking, “Sooo, what is the name of this constellation? What does it represent?” His mentor looked at him and said, “Oh? Well its name is Tori. And its story goes like this…”

Tori was an unusual child. He is very quiet and doesn't talk much, so he is bullied by others all the time for being quiet. He hated being in school and his life at home isn't any better. Tori had abusive parents, asking him random questions and if he doesn't answer, they'll beat him up for not listening to them. “H-Heh, my life is terrible huh?” Tori said to himself in his room after a terrible day, which is every day. “I just wish one day I can finally be free from this hell…” All of a sudden, his room lights went out, forcing Tori to be stuck in pitch darkness. “Wh-What's going on?” A creepy voice replied abruptly, causing Tori to jump, “Oh, Tori… You feel like you're alone? Don't worry. I'm here to help you.” “Huh? Who are you? How do you know about me? It's very creepy to stalk people you know!” The figure answered, “Tori, don't you want a friend? Someone who understand you? I'm the one that can help you. Here, take this.” Suddenly, a knife that had an eerie glow around it dropped onto Tori's bed. “Use it for your convenience. However, if you use it for evil, something terrible can happen…” Tori took a deep breath and took the knife, “Alright, I'll heed your word. Thank you, whoever you are.”
“Always a pleasure.”

“Let me guess, he used the knife to kill those who opposed him, right?” Fred said, interrupting the story. “Hey, let me finish! But yeah, you're right. However, there's a punishment…”

Tori took several deep breaths, but whatever he did couldn't calm his anxiety. Once he started a genocide in the school, he couldn't stop. It was the power of the knife, killing everyone in his path, including some people he likes to be with. “N-No… What have I done?” But then, Tori realized something, “Wait, does that mean that I'm free? I'M FREE AT LAST FROM ALL THIS YES!”
“Oh… I see you forgot to heed my warning…”

The figure appeared before Tori, who looked afraid. “What's the matter, my dear Tori? I'm not gonna hurt you or take you away from your freedom. I'll make you into something else where you won't be alive nor dead. You will not have a soul, you will be nothing but an object where everyone can observe you. But you'll have your freedom to roam around in the sky. I hope you enjoy your new life, Tori.” Smoke began to spiral around Tori as he shrieked, “Wait, wait! Give me another chance! I can't be like this! Please, help me…” However, with each word he spoke, he grew more and more tired and became a elegant star in the sky, filled entirely with regret.

609 words

Part 3: Aesthetic
The project is right here

Part 4: SWC Fanfic
Following both topics of Sunflower (adoration) and Tori (freedom/carefree)

My journey is SWC is a long one. Despite participating in only five sessions, I've never been so welcomed in this community.

It was July 2021. My very first session. Even though I got the cabin I wanted, I was still conscious of my surroundings, wishing that I wouldn't drag the team down. But Adventure was kind to me, providing me with excellent and understanding people to work with throughout the session. Sure, my very first writings were horrible, but it was my first step for improvement.

It was March 2022. I couldn't join in November, I had exams to bother about. Depressed, I looked at my friends back in Adventure, becoming co leaders or leaders. I got jealous, very jealous. I wanted to join SWC again and meet new friends. This time I got into Horror. And coincidentally, one of my friends in Adventure was co-leading me. I was overjoyed. I was glad I get to meet them and don't feel so lost. I got to know more people better, and that satisfied me. Despite Horror being in 9th and losing the writing competition, I didn't care. I made friends and that was all I was glad about. I got to even have fun with ‘Neon Horror’. I was glad. I can't wait for my next session.

It was March 2023. My year got worse. I cannot do anything throughout the year 2022. I was too busy, too empty. Desperate, I joined SWC again, trying to apply for leader like my friends did. I was rejected. Sighing to myself, I applied for Dystopian. I was a bit surprised that my leader was Moonlit. I knew Moonlit sometime during my SWC-free period. Seeing her here is like making a friend already. Like other sessions, I enjoyed this a lot. Making even more friends and further improving my writing made me more motivated to win the writing competition. We had fun in cabin wars, despite losing a war. My writing improved drastically, I was confident in having a prize this time! Unfortunately, it never happened. As we came in second, I didn't win. Again. I sighed again, departing from the dystopian dynasty. Sure, I made friends, but is it really necessary now that I didn't attain my goals?

It was November 2023, my very first November session. By now, many had known me, and I remembered that this is my favorite session so far. I gave up trying to apply for leader, and met my amazing leaders. Finley was so motivating and friendly; Clever was so easy to talk to; Mabel was a nice person to be with. In this session, I made even more friends. Everyone enjoyed my presence. I enjoyed being here for once. Our mystery mansion was 2nd that year. For the first time, I got quoted in the memory book. Seeing this is like an achievement I made more friends by acting a way I'm not. I wish I was like this in real life too…

It was January 2024. I applied for leader, but as expected, was rejected. People were vouching for me, hoping my ‘excellent co-leader app’ would be accepted. But at this time, I threw in the towel. I gave up on being a co. Am I really gonna be stuck forever as a camper?

It is March 2024. For the first time, I got sorted into the cabin I didn't expect: Fairy Tales. I introduced myself to the cabin, but I feel like I don't belong. However, Alana, Amethyst and Sienna were nice people, I really enjoy talking to them and the cabin. Presently, I look down onto my previous writings I wrote in the writing competition. Each one was a result of a cabin relation and yielded the results of different outcomes. I check my follower count; majority of them are SWCers. I smile to myself as I unpack my stuff into the Fairy Tales's cabin. This session will be good. This session will be interesting. Most importantly…

This session will be amazing, because I am happy I get to know so many amazing people along the way.

(I think I made myself cry…)

692 words

1922 words in total

Last edited by theawesomemarbler (March 17, 2024 10:46:58)

CHUROS000

Churros' Dailies No. 11- 3/11/2024
i abandon my fictional universes all the time (currently 4 collecting dust in the abyss of my google drive), but the most recent abandonment/disappointment goes like this: Harmonia is an orphan whose parents had died mysteriously in a car crash, and is cooped up living with her suffocating aunt and longs for adventure. Lilibet (Harmon's sis) hasn't really paid attention to her parents death too much, but instead works more on developing her inner genius so when both of them are recruited to a spy agency it isn't a big surprise, and Harmon realizes how little she knows about Lili. The other kids getting collected include Rachel (a computer genius who's gone to jail for hacking), Jack (math nerd who can beat the fastests calculators) and Will (a quiet introspective boy with a huge memory capacity) they barely get any time to adjust to this new way of life when their mentor goes missing and the 5 kids must go on a rogue mission to save her from the Nightsiders, a terrorist group whose commited crimes against all the kid's families. So the question is, will they be able to save her, or succumb to their inner demons and problems while going on a high risk mission? Too much is at stake.

Last edited by CHUROS000 (March 12, 2024 03:49:39)

wolfiebear-

fry-ary entry

this is for the frying pan collab hehe (and i apologize for all the awful puns in advance)

March 9, 2024
Me this morning:

Dear fry-ary…
Today I woke up at 7:18 am. I jumped off of my shelf, excited to start the day! I went into the shower and made sure my nonstick coating was shiny as a jewel. I then went downstairs to make breakfast. I got an egg and a stick of butter out of the re-fry-erator. Most people only use a little bit of butter on themselves, but I make sure to use a whole stick. That’s my secret to success. I slathered myself with the butter, getting a nice thick layer to make sure not a single piece of egg would stick. I was careful to make sure not to get any on my handle, though, since that’s a nightmare to remove. Honestly, I don’t know how others live with themselves, walking around with bits of food stuck to them. It’s disgusting, I tell you. Disgusting. Then I carefully laid down and turned on the heat. It was very relaxing, to be honest.
Then I carefully cracked the egg and waited, with a nice warmth on my back. I almost fell asleep again. Once I could tell the egg was done I threw my handle down so the egg flipped in midair and landed perfectly on the other side. Well, that was what was supposed to happen. I hadn’t waited long enough so the egg split in two: part was still stuck to me and part was in the air, crumbling into little pieces and going everywhere. It was a disaster. I don’t know how everyone else does it…but it could still be saved! Once I had scraped the charred but somehow still soggy egg and butter concoction off of me and onto a plate I sat down to eat it.
That was when I noticed the smoke. I mentally slapped myself and turned around to see that I had forgotten to turn off the burner. It had caught one of the little egg bits on fire and were quickly spreading! I didn’t know what to do so I flung my plate at it. This just ended up with the plate shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces, and I think one of them scratched my pristine nonstick coating! I yelled at the fire to stop, but it didn’t listen to me. Finally, I realized the only thing that would stop it from consuming my whole home was to throw myself upon it. The ultimate sacri-fry-ce, as it would definitely melt off my nonstick coating. I leapt in the air and landed with a bang on top of the flames. Without the air it needed the fire quickly went out beneath me.
I turned to face the window. It was still dark out so it worked as a mirror. I gasped when I saw what had happened to my beautiful nonstick coating, and I began to cry. It was a horrible sight. As tears ran down my handle, I gazed upon my ruined metal pan. There were large patches of silver where the flames had melted off my matte black coating, and dozens of little scratches. Did I mention it was horrible?
I decided I would go to the hardware store and buy some paint or something to try to fix this mess. I hopped in my car and started backing out of the parking space, but I forgot that I had torn my rearview mirror down in anger at my reflection, so I couldn't see where I was going. I decided to try it anyway and immediately rear-ended a tree. I was so angry that I jumped out of my car and ran to the bus stop. I hated that people would see me like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I was sitting on the bus and pulled on the cord thing that calls your stop, but for some reason a bunch of alarms started going off and the bus careened to a stop. There was yelling, and suddenly I was surrounded by official looking soup pots. They were all yelling at me, but all I wanted to do was get off the bus so I could go to the store. After I yelled at them to let me go, they grabbed my handle and held me in the air. I was stunned at this horrible display. As they kept yapping at me I found out that the chain I thought was the stop-selection-thing was actually an emergency brake and this bus makes all stops. I was mortified, so I jumped out the window.
I ran away, chased by the massive soup pots in black suits, and made it into the store. I selected a matte black paint I figured would match and checked out, throwing down a 20 dollar bill before anyone could ask why there were several dozen police of-fry-cers banging on the door. I went into the bathroom–not open to the public, as the sign on the door said–and jumped out the window. All this breaking glass made more scratches on me, and I was close to tears at the thought of my beautiful nonstick coating being abused like this.
I decided I would stop at the drugstore to grab some new mascara before I went home, but the sight of all the cops–a veritable army of them–stopped me. It was about midday and I was getting a bit hungry. I ran home and threw the bolt on my apartment door, and opened up Doordash on my phone, getting ready to order a Chick-fry-a sandwich. Then the banging started. Someone–some more than ones–were pounding on my door, saying something like “FBI OH PENNE!” I was very confused, but the mention of pasta made me change my order last minute. I ordered a rigatoni pesto dish from Fry-nera and waited for it to come, trying to take a power nap despite the banging on my door. As I’m writing this, those crazy sauce pans are throwing themselves on my door. I really hope they stop.

4 hours later…
I had gotten tired of it, so I went to the door and cursed them out for a few minutes before going into my bedroom and sleeping.
My phone went off, and I threw off the covers with my base and remembered my order. I swiped on the phone, and saw a good dozen notifications from Doordash. Apparently they delivered the food while I was asleep. I found that extremely aggravating so I called them and yelled at them a bit, and when they wouldn’t provide me with the manager’s number I settled for giving them a horrible review, some of the best writing I’ve ever done:

★☆☆☆☆ AW-FRY-AL SERVICE!!1!11!1!11!!
this place sux. wudnt even let me talk 2 the maneger.
never Going back. do not recomend >:[

I still cannot honestly believe the nerve. Incredibly demeaning. Anyway, apparently my power nap was so powerful it’s almost time for dinner. I’m going to do that.
That’s all for now…
Petra Pan

P.S. I didn't even get a chance to repaint myself! What injustice, after all my hard work!!!

Me tonight:

CHUROS000

Churro's Weeklies No. 2

Part 1: Flowers
one of my abandoned universes lol, please enjoy ^^ (321 words)

Harmon waited for the secret messengers to arrive. She'd waited for about two hours and still hadn't heard anything yet, but that was typical. The deliverer could have been intercepted by third parties. They couldn't look too suspicious either.
Alas, a gentle plop was heard at the door and that could only mean the bouquet had arrived, and she jumped over to get it. The flowers were how the MSS (A branch of the CIA) communicated with each other. Currently the Japanese princess Kako of Akishino was being held ransom by the Nightsiders, a terrorist group haunting the team since they first got recruited. Lilibet and Rachel had been working on finding their location at Maybelline, and Will had just arrived with the flowers.
Harmon knocked on the door in Morse code. How are L and R doing? Will's reply came back frantic, or maybe excitement? They're almost there. They've found the coordinates, we just aren't sure where that is. The coordinates could be written in code too, like extra encrypted. Harmon replied, I'll run a few missions and see what I'll find. Do they at least have a guess? I could check. Will answered, It's in the flowers. Then he left.
Harmon wondered if communicating all in Morse code was a good idea or not. The Nightsiders could've sent spies… they'd find the constant knocking really dodgy…they could even know Morse code… but enough of that. Harmon needed to run some missions. Which in this case meant checking out each possible area that were expressed in the flowers.
So Harmon reached down for the bouquet, the fresh flowers so fragrant they could have lulled even Jack to sleep. That kid never sleeps. As she peeled back the tissue paper, she instantly recognized the flowers as kingcups. Riches.
That could only mean one country, with it meaning Rich Coast in Spanish: Costa Rica.
What?!

Part 2: Constellations
(Note on this part: yesterday and today i went stargazing and i recognized five constellations from when i used to be obsessed w/ astronomy so the constellation daily is really dear to me <3)
Nobody really knows how churros were invented, but some say that the world's best dessert (in my opinion, at least, which is totally not biased) were invented by the gods of dessert. Which totally exist, of course.
So the god of bread, who was conveniently named Bready, said, "Hmm, I wonder what it would be like to make myself a little bit sweeter. And maybe fried. And maybe a little twisted. Like… the horns of the churra sheep breed!“ And then at some dessert god convention, Bready met a goddess named Sugar. (Hmm, I wonder what she was the goddess of, why don't you take a guess?) And because I'm as imaginative as a wall I'm going to say that they fell in love with each other and made exactly what Bready envisioned.
Okay so now you're asking, ”How does this relate to the constellations weekly? This is just how churros were invented.“ I'M GETTING THERE.
So anyways. Bready and Sugar decided to name this child Churro, because it sounded like the sheep breed with twisted horns, the churra. And because Churro was a baby goddess she was super hyper and stupid (she still is.) she ran around trying to get people to dip bread in chocolate sauce just because. And then she talked to the wrong people (”Dip them in chocolate sauce!“ and they replied ”Why? It looks like poop.") and they had a heated argument. The Karens got so mad they dipped Churro in the chocolate sauce.
Bready and Sugar found out their daughter almost got drowned and got super mad at Karen. Their devilish Churro almost drowned. And so to commemorate this funny but unfortunate event, they created a Churro constellation with all their godly dessert powers.
And to this day, you can see the picture of a bunch of churros being dipped into chocolate sauce.

(I'm sorry idk what i was thinking when i wrote this, i was definitely sleep deprived and feeing silly)

Part 3: Aesthetics
this is in response to Part 1 of this weekly

click here

Part 4: SWC Fanfiction
As far as chaos goes in the Sci-Fi cabin (or any part of the camp at all), none could surpass the chaos created when Sci-Fi wrote for cabin wars. Specifically when Seren and I wrote for cabin wars.
“You're going down, Script!” I laughed as I wrote furiously, taking my notes for Science. Script had sent over a few campers with a gift basket holding a some ripe mangos and a very nice note. So nice they decided to war us even though our shield literally just went down. And poor Fairy Tales got here a few seconds too late. Things were really heating up.
“We have a whole five hours left,” Seren replied, taking her notes for Logic as seriously as I did. Perhaps even more seriously, because I was reading memes at the same time. We don't talk about that.
We were slumped across a couch in the cabin, studying like crazy and stopping every few seconds to count up our words and entering them into the word count server. The war against Script was very intense. We weren't the only ones writing towards it, though. We were just the loudest in the cabin. Zion had told us to be quiet to let everyone else write, but how could you be quiet in the heat of battle? Especially one that involved words, and, even more critical, since we were writing against Script, our greatest enemy, among others. Sci-Fi doesn't believe in neutral relationships.
Sci-Fi was at the top of the leaderboard during this battle. We were getting a war every time the shield was down from the other cabins who were trying to get us to lose points. Some people had stayed up late writing for them. But of course, as the best cabin (totally not biased opinion) we had won each one. We just needed to keep this up if we wanted to beat Script.
“Okay, I just need to write another few hundred words and then I'll be done!” I said. My hand hurt a lot from holding a pen for so long, but I didn't care. This war was worth fighting for, and it was only a mere complication. The pen is mightier than the sword, after all.
Seren got up to turn her words in and update the server, her fingers clicking around on the keyboard. “Churro, it looks like we've got 1495 words left to write before we're done… almost there. At this rate I'm sure we're going to beat Script.”
Some other campers got up and filled their words into the server too. “Okay… about 700 left now…”
“I'm almost done writing!” I said frantically, my pen moving smoothly over the paper.
“Script better not mess with us next time,” Seren exclaimed. “We're going to crush them.”
“Could you guys keep it down?” Zion's voice rings around the echoey cabin again, their hand moving quickly across their computer keyboard.
Me and Seren shared a look. “That's gonna be hard.” We laughed.
We spent the rest of the day writing, joking about crushing Script, eating mangos, whatever. We entered our words in segments, and the other campers did too. The cabin was quieting down as the Sci-fians wrote until their hands fell off. Only then could we keep Script at bay. I admired the quiet diligence of the entire cabin as we worked hard to win this battle.
“How are your notes going?” Seren asked me a while later. “Could I see them?” She showed me hers.
“Dang, your handwriting is good!” I smiled. “They're actually so pretty.”
“Thanks.” She smiled back as I showed her my notes.
“Interesting, we both use two fonts…” I said.
“What, Serif and cursive?”
“Exactly!” We burst out laughing. “I also use two font sizes.”
“Gasp. Me too.”
“Although I only use highlighters just to make it look aesthetic, lol.”
Our conversation was interrupted when Zion announced, “We finished the war, omg. My fingers are falling off.”
Then whole cabin started cheering and high-fiving. Script had lost, and Sci-Fi gained more points.
I turned to Seren, and we looked at each other, grinning. And what we both said next shall be written in the books forever.
“EAT DIRT, SCRIPT!”

Last edited by CHUROS000 (March 16, 2024 21:01:20)

silverlynx-

Heath land

The long dusty grasses wavered in the salty breeze, a sea of green amongst the lofty mountains. Purple heather bruised the bumpy landscape, the colour muted, barely visible. The immense waves reflected the golden sunlight that kissed the rugged cliffs. They crashed onto the shore, sea spray showering the pebbled shores, pearly white. Splashes of yellow smeared the peaty ground, little pockets of vibrant hope, the brightest colour to be seen. Gnarled trees twisted around each other, their branches interlocking, leaves dreary and tired. The last touch of sunlight disappeared, leaving ominous rolling clouds threatening to burst.

Then the boy emerged. Just a silhouette on the misty horizon, a smudge of black, shrouded in rain. Gradually he forced himself closer, his eyes fixed on one point in the distance. His eyes were pits of sorrow, yearning for love and kindness. His face was creased with deep lines, forming trails around his ghostly face. His hands were knobbly like the spindly trees. His nose was crooked, a river of crimson trickling down from the thin, pale skin.

He trekked on, limping down the uneven rocks, slick with rainwater. Finally, he stopped, a limp shape visible in his shaking arms.
“Father…” He whispered hoarsely, his grief heart-rending.
The body stayed still. Its face was streaked with mud and rain water, its eyes were glazed over and distant. The boy screeched, wild and raw, the sound shaking the sturdy roots of the earth. Tears flooded from his eyes, bathing his father in a waterfall of sorrow. Rain began to fall, as if sharing the boy’s agony. It was hard and persistent, cold and numbing. Yet to the boy it was strangely comforting. It woke him up.

A pool of briny water formed at the boy’s feet, enveloping his father. The boy gasped. He fell back onto his hands heavily, his chest heaving. A gasp split the air as his father coughed up rivers and oceans. His eyes flickered open, still milky and far away, adjusting to the world. A smile curled on his lips. Tears had woken him from endless sleep, the greatest love possible, yet the saddest.

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