Critique for Chuey
3/12/2024
920 words

ChueyTheCat wrote:

(#52)
Daily 002: 560 words, The Lies We Can't See

Just a quick note before we start, I divided them up into the different sections per lyric and when I mention line numbers, I went off of what line it was after the lyric.

'Cause it makes me feel better
Sometimes you wonder what it'd be like to have real friends.
Not that she isn't real.
But you're not sure whether she's even a she.
Maybe you should shut it all down.
But then it'd hurt.

On a first readthrough, it is unclear as to what you are referring to as ‘it’ to shut down. The starting compliment referring to ‘the other side of the screen’ and the next section does help to clarify things, so you could leave it as is, if you want to lead in with a bit of confusion/suspense(? not exactly sure of the right word here)
I also like the lyric you chose to start this off. It’s positive, but it insinuates that the narrator is in a bad place, where she’s doing something to feel better.

Sweet true lies
All you've ever seen of her is her profile picture. Her texts.
Is she funny in real life?
Does she really have a pet cat?
Does she actually like you?
You wish you knew the truth.

Ooh, I love what this section is commenting on. I would suggest putting ‘but’ at the front of the second line. It starts off talking about what the narrator knows of their friend and adding a ‘but’ will help lead into the string of their doubts, as is used throughout the rest of the story.

Against the odds, we bring a bloodless sacrifice
Would it hurt that much to give her up?
Maybe then you'd be normal.
Friendless.
But normal.
There were lots of friendless normal people out there, right?
It wasn't like you were letting a real friend go.
She was just an icon on the screen.

I’m not sure if this is the best lyric to start this section off? I’m not sure what your thoughts are with this and I can see why you chose this lyric, but the wording of the lyrics doesn’t seem to fit the theme of the section the best to me ^^

Let it go
She makes you laugh like no one else does.
She's the reason you get up in the morning, to see what greeting she's sent today.
It's silly, isn't it, to feel this way about someone you've never even met.
Silly to have to battle with yourself about turning the phone off.
Silly to shake so violently when you see that she's typing a response.
Maybe today will be the day you get over it.

The lyric here is simple, but captures this section perfectly <3
I would suggest the third line here should be split, because ‘It’s silly, isn’t it,’ feels like it should have a bigger rest than a comma, before the rest of the line.
“It’s silly, isn’t it?
To feel this way about someone you’ve never met?”
I think it flows better this way.

All those years, wasted wishes drowning in the wishing well
You wanted a friend for so long, so badly. No one felt the same way towards you.
You were just the weird one. The odd one out.
She makes you feel like you belong.
But maybe she doesn't care either.
It's easier to lie when you're hiding behind a screen.
Easier to cry, too.
You're crying.
Is this real?
Do you care?

First off, the lyric you chose for this section is stunning <33
Secondly, the first line is a bit unclear to me. What does it mean by ‘felt the same way’? From what I can deduce, it means that no one feels the same way towards the narrator as their online friend does. I would suggest either changing up the wording, ex: “No one has felt the same way she does towards you” or remove that sentence entirely, as a similar sentence comes up later. I think that changing up the wording would be more impactful, because it glosses over that later and having it be restated would help solidify the idea that their friend makes them feel cared for before the thoughts of doubt on the idea come in.
The comma isn’t necessary in “Easier to cry, too.” and also disrupts the flow of the line a bit.

Oh, I'm feeling better now
Maybe it's better this way. Hiding behind a screen.
That way she can't see your flaws.
Maybe that's the real reason you have no friends in real life.
Maybe they were too scared.
Maybe they just didn't think you were worth their time.
It's probably the best this way.
But are you really solving anything?
Or are you just sticking a mental band-aid on the problem?

It’s not too clear who the ‘they’ are in lines four and five. I’m assuming it’s in real life people that the narrator could be friends with? You could change the first ‘they’ to people and it’ll help bring that in, following ‘having no friends in real life’.
I also love the metaphor with the band-aid to tie it in with the lyric!

Let's go on dreaming, though we know it hurts
Maybe one day you'd be brave enough to fix things.
Maybe one day you'd turn the phone off.
Maybe, instead, someday you'd tell her all the things you hate about yourself, see if she really meant what she said.
Maybe she'd turn the phone off and solve all your problems herself.
But that would hurt.
Oh, you could do this for hours. Thinking of solutions to fix your life.
You should have done this sooner. Distanced yourself sooner.
Not that she's bad. She's funny, and good, and sweet.
But she might be lying.
You know you are.

I think this lyric fits perfectly and I also love the repetition used in this!
I would suggest maybe splitting the third line? The way it flows connects the things the narrator hates about themselves and the things the friend has said, which are two separate topics I believe? By adding the split, it still flows similarly, but the visual break separates the ideas and I think that goes along better with what it’s meaning to say.
I think that the ‘but’ here is a bit redundant. Removing it, so that it’s “That would hurt”, helps state it more clearly as a fact.

Nightingale in a golden cage, that's me locked inside reality's maze
The other day she told you that you were as cool as a sparkly mango.
You joked about it with her for hours.
But does she really think you're cool?
Or is she like you? Desperate for an escape?
Desperate for a portal from reality?
You know nothing.
The world is crumbling.
You reach for the phone and turn it on.
It doesn't matter.
Just another lie.

Because your prompt had to do with the sparkly mango, I know you had to put it in here somewhere, but it is kind of jarring compared to the other word choice ^^;; Just a thought and you can choose to change it or keep it the same if you’re planning to enter it into a contest or something.
The ‘Or’ in the beginning of the fourth line here insinuates that it’s either the friend thinks they’re cool or likes them. I would suggest changing it to ‘and’, so it keeps the idea of “what is my friend like?”.
I would also suggest linking the two questions together in that line to connect them and help it flow better.
“And is she like you, desperate for an escape?”

Some general thoughts on formatting:
Having the story as one long chunk can make things harder to read because it’s so condensed. I think that sectioning them out, so that there are breaks between the sections would help the flow. Separating the lyrics from the sections that they represent would help to show that it’s the theme for the part the reader is going to read. Adding blank space can help signify what goes together and where the reader can take a break. I would recommend either having extra line breaks, or in the case of Scratch forums, put the lyrics in a quote? Keep in mind that this is all subjective and I personally like using formatting to help with the flow of a story and for sectioning paragraphs out within my own works ^^

Overall, I loved this piece! The sparkly mango comment threw me off guard to how down to earth this was and it was a pleasant surprise. I love how you addressed the topic of having online friends and how it can affect how we think of our relationships. I love the style and how it’s prose, but also poetic :0 It’s a stunning reflective piece and I think all of us SWCers feel this way to an extent and you captured the feeling well. I enjoyed reading this piece and you did a great job <3

Critique 002: 347 words, @AmazaEevee

Hello there! Today I'll be critiquing a piece of @AmazaEevee's <3
(All words in quotes are hers.)

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll be with you ‘till the end”
We were merely two small kids
We wouldn’t have known how it would end

First of all, I like the way you started every stanza with the same line. It accentuates the theme nicely, and really brings in that little-kid vibe.
Moving on, I'd recommend changing the “wouldn't” to a “couldn't,” because while I do appreciate the alliteration of the first, I feel like it kind of breaks the flow in some way. Part of poetry is playing it by ear; there may be no difference in the words other than that letter, but the first consonant sound changes the sentence. Also, the “wouldn't” is a bit redundant, given that it occurs later in the same sentence.

Hundreds of pinky promises
“You're my bestest best friend”
We didn't know how much it'll hurt
We were together then broke apart

Nice usage of “bestest,” again, really brings out that little-kid vibe. However, I'd suggest rewriting the last line to make it flow a little better; perhaps try something like “we were together, but then broke apart.” Also, pay close attention to your tenses. In the third line, you switched from past tense to present tense–which I do all the time! It just takes some practice to stay consistent.

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll always be here for you”
We loved too much; we fell too hard
We were merely two small kids

I like this section here–you used a semicolon, which I adore (as anyone who has ever read an essay of mine can attest to.)

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll see you again.” “Promise?” “Next year.”
We didn't know how the world works
We were done before either knew

Again, good lines here; only suggestion would be to change the tense in the third line to all past tense instead of part past, part present.

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I promise to find you when I'm older”
We were merely two small kids
We didn't know what that meant

Love this stanza! You did a really good job with this one <3

Hundreds of pinky promises
“Where were you and how have you been?”
We hadn't seen each other in months
We were waiting for a phenomenon

I like how you worked in “phenomenon,” it has a nice flow but I don't see it used very often.

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I’ll always find you when you hide”
We were full of childish tricks
We were merely two small kids

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll still love you to the end”
We were always together in our minds
We were together side by side

Hundreds of pinky promises
“We’ll name our kids after each other”
We were merely two small kids
We might follow this promise through

Hundreds of pinky promises
“Where are you if you aren't here?”
We couldn't have known how to cope
We just wanted time to talk more

Hundreds of pinky promises
“You can tell me what’s wrong”
We spoke numbly to the dark
We fought our own demons, far apart

This section ties the breaking up process together really well–you did a fantastic job of portraying what happened to their friendship as they grew older.

Hundreds of pinky promises
Half unfulfilled in the end
Who are you in the world?
And where were you when
I needed you?

And that's the end! This was such a good piece and I really enjoyed reading it–the only tips I have are to pay careful attention to your tense and the way words sound together. I hope this critique helps, and I wish you the best of luck on your writing journey!

crit for summer :)

In this perfect world, everyone is different, and differences are celebrated. They determine where you fit in society, and they grant you a place in the world. Everyone is different, yet everyone is equal. Or so it seems.

immediately we’ve got some doublethink, which is great for creating a dystopian world (or any non-perfect world, really). if everyone is different, and “fitted into society” based on those differences, they cannot be equal.
when creating dystopian societies, i like to focus on the tension between one or a few dichotomies, considering how this theme runs through every aspect of the world and how different characters in different positions consider it. from this introduction and the rest of the piece, i would suggest focusing on either “individual versus collective” or “blending in versus standing out” — who has a place in the world, and how is that place determined on in
other than equality and individual excellence/talents, what values does this society have? how do the people living within it act on and view these values on their daily life? how does their government justify its actions using these values? what stories does this society tell itself, to reinforce and construct these values?

The society is organized into spheres. These “spheres,” or groups of neurologically similar people, represent brain activity in a specific region. In other words, wherever your “brilliance” lies. There is a sphere dedicated to artistry, one to brilliance in math, and science, and music, and eloquence, and many other areas. As a child, you are educated normally in all subjects until you turn fifteen. That is when you take several brain tests and are sorted into your sphere. Once you’ve been sorted, you take further classes with your specific sphere.

i like the word “brilliance” and i think continuing with a light-based metaphor could be really interesting for different levels in your society. maybe the most brilliant spheres are “the sun” or “bright” while the rejects are “shades” living in “shadows.”
i admit, i do not know much about the brain or brain activity, but i do know it doesn’t get fully developed until around the mid-twenties. does the sorting happen before brains are fully developed on purpose, to keep them under propaganda and prevent them from thinking on their own?
other than the classes, what are childhoods like? who raises the children— do they grow up with their parents in whatever sphere they were from? do they live collectively in an orphanage-type situation, do they even know which sphere their parents are from? are the kids bred or born of marriages / romantic connections? do they play games? what sorts of stories do they tell / are they told? what sorts of propaganda are they exposed to?
i have many similar questions about life in the spheres: what does a normal day look like? do the people in spheres have jobs? friends? families? romantic partners? do they have hobbies? where do they get their food? where do they live and what do those living situations look like? is there a religion? are there holidays and how do those impact the daily routine? how is their calendar structured; do they have weeks with weekends and do they have months and years? how much does life vary from sphere to sphere?
who administers the tests? are the computer tests, written tests, medical tests, social tests? are they done in groups or individually? are they infallible or could someone cheat? is there actually measurable differences between the brains of the people in different spheres?
are spheres other than the elders ranked or viewed as more important or honorable than others? do people from different spheres ever interact with each other?
who makes the food, makes the clothes, cleans the toilets, drives the buses and dump trucks? in better terms, who does all of the tasks necessary to keep the society functional? are there robots or do the rejects do it, or is this labor divided among the spheres?

Occasionally, there will be someone whose brain activity is so new and different that a new sphere will be created just for them. Their name is written in government records associated with the new sphere. It’s one of the highest honors. These prodigies will be trained with the elders, and will become the head of their sphere once fully trained. The elders are those whose brains have activity in many spheres. They are truly the models of perfection.

if their brains are so unique that they gain their own sphere, how do they become the head of that sphere— will there actually be other people in the sphere or are they just on their own? why are they put into their own, new sphere when they will train with the elders; would it make more sense to put all of the super special brain-activity people into one highest honor sphere where they would train in all of the disciplines rather than just one?
if the models of perfection are elders trained in many spheres, how is it possible to reach that state of perfection in a world where people specializing in different spheres are divided from one another? how did the elders get into that position of power, were they just born extra special or did they get special training denied to most?

Sometimes people just disappear, and no one knows what happens to them. These are the rejects. The ones who aren’t exceptional enough for a place in society. This is essentially breeding out the bad, and because this practice has continued for so long most people now fit into one of the spheres. Our main character makes it into the training for a sphere, but later testing shows her brain’s activity in the required region decreasing. A few sympathetic trainers and testers try to protect her for as long as possible, but eventually her secret is discovered. She is sent to the camp of the rejects.

so it’s eugenics, basically.
why don’t people fight back when others disappear?
have they never had anyone experience dementia or other brain-related conditions before? for a seemingly technologically advanced society, with generations of citizens who have lived under this system and a long life expectancy, they would certainly have methods of working with people whose brain activity changes over time. just as an example, half of any population will go through menopause, which greatly changes the whole body due to hormone pattern shifts and often causes “brain fog.” unless this society is extremely inefficient and flippant with its population, i don’t see that simply change in brain activity in a certain sphere could cause someone to be completely rejected.

This camp is outside of the perfect world our main character knows, and she discovers that it is only within a certain area (the bubble-like utopia) that nature flourishes. Outside of it, where the concentration-camp-like reject center is located, is a wasteland. The main character discovers more about how those who may live in the utopia are curated. There must be a wide variety of talents and skills at all times, and everyone must be exceptional. No one sphere must outweigh the others. Even some whose brain activity matched the requirements just fine have been rejected, because the sphere became overcrowded. Only the best remain. Only the elite.

how does nature flourish within the influence of humans but nowhere else? did the society purposefully scorch the earth, or is this post-apocalyptic, post-climate change where only under the influence of human science can any plants survive? (the environment within the spheres would likely not be natural at all, but very artificial, low biodiverse plants and animals.)
if all of the world outside the spheres is wasteland, where are they getting their food? who is farming it? what about other resources? why aren’t they terraforming the world, if they have been living in this society for generations?
does balancing the spheres have to do with resource allotment (and if so, why are rejects allowed to live at all? under any circumstances they would be seen as a drain on resources better given to “the elite.”)? or does balancing the spheres have more to do with perceived equality between them — maybe this is how it is posed to the people, who from the first paragraph seem to value equality?
from my reading and view on the ideas of access to knowledge and linking of knowledge to power, i would go along the route of spheres being balanced in order to keep their numbers low, in order to ensure no sphere is able to learn too much or question too well. then, also, anyone who learns too much about the system would be sent away, no matter their brilliance level. are people of higher brilliance more at risk of this?
what are the living conditions of the rejects? what do they do, day to day? do they have jobs?

Our main character also discovers that corruption lies in the sorting system as well, and well-executed bribes can place a child anywhere their parents wish them to be.

so there is money in this system (or another currency-like thing that people use to bribe)? and some sort of family unit as well, where parents care which sphere their children end up in?
i think a better discovery would be that the system is completely made up — that there are no meaningful differences between the brains of people of different spheres and between the insiders and the rejects, and that brilliance was only made up to control and separate the citizens. maybe those who became elders, the smarter or more curious children, were seen as more likely to make this discovery, so were in effect bribed with a better position so that they would not work to uncover the injustice of it.
how does she come to make a discovery of this severity? is it common knowledge within the rejects, does anybody within the spheres know it? how does she feel about the discovery?

There are some in the camp who whisper of rebellion. But is there really any hope of change?

is the whisper of rebellion real? surely the government would not allow it, and they might even fake a “whisper of rebellion” to squash the hopes of any who dare entertain it.
if it is real, how would a rebellion function? what are their goals?

my main suggestion as you move forward with this world is to consider exploring a theme of division of knowledge, as a means of dividing and conquering and keeping power. by dividing such smart people into so many different, separate groups, it keeps people from uniting, sharing their knowledge and rebelling together. that is why the districts in the hunger games are so isolated; they would be much more powerful together than they are apart.
also consider the day to day lives of the people and how the society functions daily. often, people will keep the status quo the same if they are at least happy with where they are in it (or see themselves as able to advance within an unequal system).

i really enjoyed taking a look at this world and thinking about it, and i hope anything i suggested or any questions i asked help you as you continue working on it!

3/5-3/12/2024
legends weekly + an extension
im so done and tired
wc: 1903

myth
retelling: folks it's time for eurydice and orpheus modern au… or is it?
wc: ~290

orpheus and orpheus and eurydice were lovers, at least he thought they were.

eurydice had gone missing, and there were no signs of her disappearance.

orpheus and all their friends visited her apartment. they knocked, but nobody came. they knocked again and again, but eurydice didn't answer.

“she's probably out,” someone said and the rest of the agreed.

as they turned to leave, orpheus noticed the door was unlocked. he poked his head inside and looked around. something felt… off. eurydice wouldn't let all that dust settle. the flowers on the tiny entrance table were wilted, the paintings lining the wall were crooked.

orpheus called to his friends, “folks, something's off. eurydice hasn't been living here.”

curious, they all looked inside.

“eurydice!” they called. “eurydice!”

no answer.

orpheus took a tentative step in.

***

they found no signs of her, yet all of eurydice's belongings were still there, untouched. a book laid open on a table, a rice cooker was still plugged in (orpheus unplugged it as to not waste any energy), a croissant lay half-eaten on a plate. it was like the world was taunting them, showing everyone how eurydice still existed, yes, but that they could never bring her back.

something had happened, but what?

everyone had their suspicions, but orpheus knew it must've involved the olympians. eurydice knew people, people with incredible power, almost too much power. she had promised him there wouldn't be any more shady dealings between them… what had angered them?

a glint of black caught his eye. he turned, curious.

orpheus could've sworn his heart stopped. his suspicions had been correct.

“look at this!” called orpheus, his voice shaking.

there, on the table, was a bottle of snake venom and the sign of the olympians.

crossover: hazbin and my og story. adam's so cringe to write help. he curses significantly less, yippee!
wc: ~310

“wassup, it's adam in the house!” he cackled. beside him, lute grinned.

the spirit groaned. "who in their right mind invited them here?“

”my dear daughter, it's rude to say such things about the dearly departed,“ the wisp said. ”and the creature will only be here for a moment before he returns to his own heaven— our creator just wanted to have some fun today.“

the wisp reached out a golden hand and ruffled her daughter's silver hair. the silk of her robe twirled round as she approached the outsiders.

”lute, where are we.“ adam deadpanned to his right-hand, seemingly realizing they weren't anywhere familiar. his head rapidly whipped left to right, taking in the vibrant archipelago. aw, didn't manage to flip off any heavenly folk today.

as he took in his surroundings, a unsuspecting snail inched up to adam's foot and took a bite out of his robe. his wings shot out, and he cursed like a sailor. ”that hurt you! we're going back to heaven, NOW.“

he smashed the snail to minuscule pieces underneath his foot, sneering up at the strange, perfect clouds in the bluest sky there ever was.

lute kicked away an insect near her. ”sir, it seems as if we are somewhere unknown. there's someone in front of you, as well.“

”yeah, no DUH! wait, what?“

both of them looked up towards the wisp and the spirit.

”what's that supposed to be? i didn't know we were supposed to be cosplaying as… as… lute, what are those?“

the spirit held out her silver hand, albeit reluctantly. ”adam, the first man, and uh, whatever else your titles are, we hereby challenge you and your lieutenant to a duel.“

he laughed. ”who cares? let's get them!"

they lost, miserably.

hi-fi
ocs in historical times
lily (best girl<33) arrives at ellis island. i have so much more to write abt this so i might make an entire au o.o
wc: 258

lily squeezed forward in the line of bustling people. with one hand she carried all her belongings packed inside a squashed suitcase, the other nursing a bruised shoulder as she waited. a while ago she had passed the medical inspection, but now she swore she had stood for at least an hour in line. 

she coughed and tried to shake off the feeling of riding in the steerage. it had been an unforgettable experience— cramped and dirty, with two or three rats scurrying about on the mold-eaten floors. lily was relieved when they finally arrived at ellis island, but her relief soon turned to dismay. nobody had told her she had to wait so long just to get to america.

as she waited, she watched the people around her. the family in front of her talked fast and quietly, in some language she'd never be able to guess. the woman behind lily dusted off her clothes, flattening down her skirts and making sure her hat was in place. her son tugged at her dress and babbled silly little nothings… 

lily was alone.

she didn't know anyone, but america was a new and brighter chance at life. back home, people had said american streets were paved with gold. a free country, a gilded country, one where you could manifest your destiny. even if it all sounded outrageous, lily knew that it would be better than living at the orphanage.

she sighed, anywhere was better than home… but it was still her home. maybe she'd find a home here too.

ive been thinking dang if these walls could talk (halsey starts playing) this is mainly fiction now
i want to give her a hug :"C dw she'll figure out in due time and she'll heal C:
wc: 231

lily snapped back to reality as the family ahead of her started walking ahead. she shuffled forward in line. only six more people to go, and she would finally be done with the inspection. 

maybe she could talk to the woman behind her, or, she didn't know, double check her suitcase to waste time? anything was better than standing around doing nothing. but she couldn't bear to talk to strangers, it felt otherworldly and too icky for her. lark and honey were only her friends because they had spoken to her first. lily wished somebody, anybody would come to her rescue. she was too afraid herself, and would only act up if she was forced to.

it's you.

lily whipped her head around, but everyone else was already preoccupied. what on earth had talked to her?

it's you.

the walls whispered around her, like they were alive. lily could feel, she could sense the years of history, like a cool ocean wave washing over her.

the gods have chosen well. 

wuh?

watch closely, child.

a white light invaded her vision, and suddenly her mind wasn't her own anymore.

all the cheers, all the tears, the entirety of the past and future of this place, all of it she held in her mind's eye. she could feel every emotion ever experienced on this island, all the pain and regret.

watch closely, child.

fairy tales
mixing in a little magic: place yourself in a fairy tale
listening to rachie's android girl cover while writing this omg it's like free motivation this was so fun to write
wc: 281

princess cecilia lived in a dreary, old castle. the ceiling dripped whenever it rained and it was constantly drafty. all the walls were built out of crumbling stone, all the wood was crawling with mold, all the feather pillows were outdated by a century or two.

she loathed it, obviously.

all day and night long, she sat on her iron throne, executing orders and demands, bored out her mind. the peasants came to her because her “queen mother” was away at sea, and there needed to be someone on the throne at all times. there were hardly any breaks, and the line of peasants was constant. it wasn't anything like she had expected. what a bore.

it was just cecilia and her servants these days. no adventure, no fun, no nothing. with the passing days, cecilia knew she would turn out horribly dull.

so, like any other normal person, she decided to destroy the castle. it was so utterly unfit for the fairest of them all. maybe she'd send the queen back after she had finished with her work, just to see that witch grieve.

“down with the walls!” she commanded. “down with the entire castle!” cecilia grinned like the maniac she was.


later, her white dress fluttered in the breeze as she stood in front of the ruins of the once grand castle. nothing great ever lasts forever, especially her hyperfixtations. 

she pulled out a mirror from her pocket, seemingly tired from looking. she held out the mirror and spoke, "mirror mirror in my hand, who is the fairest of them all?"

the mirror blinked to life and reflected off its glass was her own face, stained with sickly crimson.

folklore
oral retelling: the skull by jon klassen
wc: 528

they prepared for the night in silence. persephone was still slightly annoyed at etain for tricking her, but after being exiled by the king himself they had no choice but to stick together for any chance of survival. now here they were, in the forests of elixir, camping out in the middle of nowhere.

etain spoke up. “hey, wanna hear a story?”

persephone poked the kindling fire with a stick, glancing over at etain. “sure, why not. what's it about?”

“the skull—it's one of those old wives' tales. my ma used to tell me about it every time i stole.”

“there once was a girl named otilla who ran away from home—”

“why?”

“shh, don't interrupt my story.” he added snidely, “maybe her reason for leaving is the same as yours.”

she flicked an ember towards him. etain scrambled back, shoving his robe out of the way before the ember hit it.

he scooched back near the fire and coughed accusingly. "as i was saying, otilla found a mansion in the woods. it was very old and very mysterious. she was starving and tired, having run hard and fast from her home. the mansion looked very inviting.“

”otilla knocked on the door. nobody came for a while until she caught a glimpse of someone at the window. no, not someone, something. it was a simple human skull, peering out the window.

“otilla said, ‘hello. my name is otilla. i need a place to hide and stay.’

”the skull said, ‘okay, but you have to promise to carry me. i am just a skull and it is very hard rolling around.

“otilla agreed. it was quiet for a long time until there was a bumping noise and the door creaked open.

”’come in,' said the skull. otilla picked it up and it gave her a tour of its house.

“otilla thought it was very fun. the skull's house was large and full of secrets, like—”

“dang, this skull guy is creepy. otilla should run! a mansion in the middle of nowhere? please, that's just a horror story waiting to happen.”

“persephone, let me talk okay? i promise it will get better.”

“ahem. a jug that could hold anything put in it forever. the skull also had a collection of masks it kept when it was still alive.

”finally, the skull showed otilla the largest room. it was the ball room.

“'would you like to dance?' the skull asked.

”'okay,' said otilla. and they danced until the sun set.

“the skull lead otilla to the bedroom when they grew tired of dancing. just as they were about to go to bed, the skull whispered something.

”'i'm sorry to tell you this just now. it was a very fun day. but you need to know. every night, a headless skeleton comes to this mansion. every night, it chases me around and only goes away when it cannot find me. however, i am not as fast as i used to be. i—'"

an arrow whizzed past etain's ear and landed next to persephone's leg.

they cursed. the king had found them.

https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/744314/?page=9#post-7843612

For context, I am slightly familiar with Omori. I have never personally played it, but I’ve seen parts of someone else’s playthrough (Ranboo’s 2023 subathon, if you’re curious) and have a rough idea of what the storyline is about, so I think I understand the feeling you’re going for with this piece of writing. It starts off well, with the first four sentences setting the mood perfectly. However, I think the next paragraph could be improved with longer, more flowery, descriptive sentences to feel more “musical” and match the tone of the scene. I like that you described everyone’s different names for the song, although the introduction to the characters felt a little rushed. In the context of the game, it makes sense, but for someone who had only this isolated passage, knowing everyone’s names isn’t essential or relevant to this particular segment of the story. The italicized text (Mari’s voice, I assume?) is a nice touch and helps move the story along in a way that adds interest for the reader. The next paragraph, where Sunny wakes up, could use a change in pacing. The first part could be slowed down more, to increase suspense and set the mood better. It’s a little bland as it is. The latter part of the paragraph, on the other hand, should be sped up more, with shorter sentences. Adding a few more touches of emotion might make the scene stand out more, too. The final paragraph of this passage is much better with the pacing. I wouldn’t change anything about it, except for the minor detail that the sentence of “My friends are all here.” is in present tense, while the rest is in past tense. The final sentence is amazing, leaving the reader on a chilling cliffhanger. All in all, I liked it, although the pacing could be slightly improved and the emotion could have come on stronger. Still, I think you translated the game’s story into words very well- and it definitely fits the “Goth-Fi” genre you were going for. If you ever wrote more about Omori, I’d love to read it. ^^

Flowers:
The garden bloomed with colors, each petal whispering secrets of love and loss. Among them, the roses stood tall, their crimson hue a symbol of passion and desire. Lily wandered through the maze of flowers, her heart heavy with longing. She reached out to touch a rose, its thorns pricking her skin, drawing blood.
As she watched the crimson droplets fall, memories flooded her mind. She remembered the day she first met him, his smile as bright as the sun, his laughter like music in the air. They had wandered through fields of wildflowers, promising each other forever.
But forever was fleeting. Like petals in the wind, their love had withered and died. Now, all that remained were memories and thorns.
But amidst the thorns, a single white rose caught Lily's eye. Its purity stood out amidst the darkness, a beacon of hope in a sea of despair. She reached out to pluck it from the earth, cradling it in her hands.
With each petal she plucked, she whispered a silent prayer. For forgiveness, for redemption, for a love that would never fade. And as the last petal fell, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
In that moment, she realized that love was not always about holding on. Sometimes, it was about letting go. And as she watched the white rose drift away on the breeze, she knew that she would be okay.
The evening sky darkened as Lily made her way out of the garden, the scent of roses lingering in the air like a bittersweet farewell. She walked with a heavy heart, her footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
As she reached the edge of the garden, she glanced back one last time, the memory of the white rose still fresh in her mind. It seemed to glow in the moonlight, a symbol of hope amidst the darkness.
But as she turned away, something caught her eye. A constellation, shimmering faintly in the vast expanse of the sky. It was the constellation of Scorpius, with its curved tail and sharp claws reaching out towards the stars.
Lily felt a chill run down her spine as she remembered the stories her grandmother used to tell her about Scorpius. It was said to be the guardian of the underworld, a creature of darkness and death.
But as she looked closer, she saw something else in the constellation. A hidden beauty amidst the fear and darkness. The stars seemed to dance in a graceful arc, forming the shape of a heart.
For the first time in a long time, Lily felt a glimmer of hope stir within her. Perhaps, just like the stars in Scorpius, there was beauty to be found in the darkness. Perhaps, even in the depths of despair, love could still bloom.
With a newfound sense of determination, Lily gazed up at the constellation, her heart filled with a quiet resolve. She knew that the road ahead would not be easy, but she also knew that she was not alone.
For as long as the stars shone in the sky, she would carry their light within her, guiding her through the darkness. And as she walked away into the night, she felt a sense of peace wash over her, knowing that love would always find a way to endure.
+553 words

Constellations:

The night sky stretched out before him, a tapestry of stars woven into the fabric of the universe. Among them, Orion stood tall, his bow drawn tight, ready to unleash his fury upon the world.
Legend spoke of a hunter, fierce and determined, who had been transformed into a constellation as punishment for his arrogance. But as Lucas gazed up at the sky, he saw more than just a celestial figure. He saw a reflection of himself.
Like Orion, Lucas was a fighter. He had faced battles both physical and emotional, each one leaving its mark upon his soul. But despite the scars, he refused to give up. He would fight until his last breath, just as Orion fought against the creatures of the night.
But amidst the darkness, there was also light. And as Lucas looked up at the stars, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. For in the vastness of the cosmos, he was not alone. He was part of something greater, something eternal.
And as he closed his eyes and let the starlight wash over him, he knew that no matter what the future held, he would face it with courage and determination. For he was Orion, the hunter of the night, and his spirit would shine forever bright.
The night air whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. Lucas stood beneath the canopy of stars, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.
In the distance, he could hear the soft murmur of a river, its gentle song a soothing melody against the backdrop of the night. It was as if nature itself was whispering words of comfort, offering solace to a weary soul.
As Lucas gazed up at Orion, he felt a connection unlike any he had ever known. It was as if the constellation was speaking to him, guiding him towards his true purpose.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Lucas set off into the night, his heart light and his spirit strong. He knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he also knew that he was not alone.
For as long as Orion shone in the sky, he would be there to light the way. And with each step he took, Lucas felt the weight of his burdens lift a little more, until all that remained was the freedom to chase his dreams.
And as he disappeared into the darkness, a shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a trail of light in its wake. It was as if the universe was offering him a gift, a promise of hope and possibility.
For Lucas, the journey had only just begun. But with Orion by his side, he knew that anything was possible. And as he followed the path laid out before him, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that he was exactly where he was meant to be.
+494 words

Aesthetic:
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/981509418/

SWC Fanfiction:
The flower I chose was the white rose, symbolizing purity and new beginnings. In my fanfiction, I'll incorporate the theme of new beginnings and purity into the story.
The night was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. Ivy stood at the edge of the forest, her heart pounding in her chest. Tonight was the night she would finally confront her fears, to leave behind the darkness and embrace the light.
As she stepped into the forest, the moonlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows on the forest floor. But Ivy was not afraid. For she knew that with each step she took, she was leaving behind the darkness of her past and stepping into a future filled with hope and possibility.
She wandered deeper into the forest, the scent of pine filling her nostrils. And then she saw it, a single white rose blooming amidst the underbrush. Its petals shimmered in the moonlight, a symbol of purity and new beginnings.
Ivy reached out to touch the flower, its petals soft beneath her fingers. And as she did, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. For in that moment, she knew that she was free. Free from the chains of her past, free to embrace the future that lay ahead.
And as she walked out of the forest, the white rose clutched tightly in her hand, she knew that she was ready. Ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, ready to embrace the purity and new beginnings that awaited her. For she was Ivy, and her spirit would shine forever bright, just like the white rose that bloomed in the darkness.
Ivy emerged from the forest into a clearing bathed in moonlight, her eyes reflecting the shimmering glow of the stars above. She felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through her veins, like a river of newfound courage flowing through her soul.
In the distance, she spotted a small cottage nestled among the trees, its windows aglow with warm light. It beckoned to her like a beacon of hope, promising shelter and solace after her journey through the wilderness.
With determination fueling her every step, Ivy approached the cottage, her heart racing with anticipation. She pushed open the creaking wooden door and stepped inside, the scent of lavender and cedar enveloping her in a comforting embrace.
The interior of the cottage was cozy and inviting, with a crackling fire casting dancing shadows on the walls. Ivy felt a sense of tranquility wash over her as she sank into a plush armchair by the hearth, the white rose still clutched tightly in her hand.
As she sat in the warmth of the fire, memories of her past flashed before her eyes like scenes from a forgotten dream. She remembered the pain and sorrow that had weighed her down for so long, the shadows that had threatened to consume her.
But now, as she gazed at the white rose cradled in her palm, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had ever known. The purity of the flower reminded her that she was no longer defined by her past, but by the promise of new beginnings that stretched out before her like an open road.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Ivy resolved to embrace the purity and beauty of life, to cherish each moment as if it were a precious gift. And as she drifted off to sleep by the flickering fire, the white rose resting on her chest like a symbol of divine protection, she knew that she was finally home.
+601 words

total: 1664 words

Critique

First of all, great piece! I love all of the imagination that has gone into this! Here are some things to improve on…

With the speech, I noticed that you didn’t put it onto a new line, but if you did, it would just make it look a lot better. Also, on “something” you forgot to put a capital letter and it is always best to try and include those when possible.
To be honest, I find this piece a little bit confusing, a bit hard to follow. Like I said, if you put the speech on a new line, it will really help. I think, to make it flow better, you could use some more imagery to really create that picture in your reader’s head. For example “the queen went silent, her face stony and sombre, unsure what to say.

Also, I think that you should put just a question mark or just an exclamation mark for the speech “how can he be dead” because putting both together is more informal, and should generally not be used for the style you’re writing in.
The last sentence, I think you could change a bit to make it more descriptive. For example “Marissa wobbled on her unsteady feet, her mind whirling with thoughts. She was ghostly pale and dizzy, striding out of the room as best she could, her head held high to hold back the hot tears…”
I know that’s two sentences, but often I find that helps, to just add that little bit to tie it all together.

This was a very harsh critique from me, and I had to be very picky, but over all, it was amazing! I think you have great potential as a growing writer. I hope this helps you to improve your writing in the future! Thank you for letting me critique your wonderful piece.

March 13th:
“Ominous or lucky, thirteen has a variety of attributes – there are 13 loaves in a baker's dozen, 13 lunar cycles in a year, including a blue moon, and 13 cards every suit. Today, 13 happens to be a host's favorite number - for 350 points (and a bonus 100 for sharing your creations), you'll be writing at least 300 words using any line from a host or daily team coordinator's profile as inspiration! Best of luck, and have fun <3”

Author’s Notes:
✦ this was rushed because of bedtime and barely reread
✦ wow this is actually quite longer than I thought it would be
✦ i used the line “literature, designing, music, dinosaurs” from @Starique’s profile as a prompt which is possibly one of the least prompt-y prompts i could have used but yeah lol
✦ ( edited to add this note ) oh by the way this isn't personal, this is in the perspective of yet another unknown character

Dear elementary school best friend,
I still remember the lively gleam in your eyes as the teacher announced that we would be doing music that day. You would get so caught up in your sounds.

A tap,
A beat,
A rhythm.

You did not care how some of the troublemakers in class groaned whenever it was music instead of the, as labelled by them, the “easy” subjects. You let your music-loving heart flow free as you gladly clapped along to the teacher’s rhythm.

I hope you got all the opportunities in the world to make music.

I still remember you being in love with all things creative. Aside from music, you especially loved designing. You loved splashing the brightest colours everywhere in your logos, but it somehow managed to always look good. You had a skill, did you know that? I would always discuss with my other friends on how fabulous your art pieces were.

A kaleidoscope of colours,
A splash of paint,
A dash of a paintbrush.

You would always come up with such brilliant ideas. Your mind was a lightbulb waiting to be lit on. It could be turned on whenever you wanted it too. I admire that. I admire your determination and creativity. I admire that you allow your ideas to run wild and free, that you scribbled down every thought without a care in the world. I imagine that, whenever it was time for art, you were lost in your own world, a world where only the greatest things roamed. You were the creator of all those things. You are amazing.

I hope your ideas still run on to this day.

I still remember that art was not the only creative thing you adored. You loved literature and writing, even when the entire class, myself included, groaned about having to write five paragraphs. You excelled in every essay and used vocabulary way past our year. You read so much, it expanded your knowledge and understanding of the world. Reading time was one of your favourite subjects, despite all the arguements I used to say that it was not a subject. Now, it does not really matter. I am just glad that you enjoyed it.

A word,
A semicolon,
A key.

You loved studying books. You loved whenever the teacher would give the class a new book to read together. I never really liked the books at first, but your excited rambling about it made me enjoy them. They are some of the most special books to me, now. You did not only love reading, but you also adored writing. You would let the words flow like a waterfall onto the page. (You were the one that introduced that simile to me.) Your characters were so deep and full of emotions. They felt so human and real. I cried reading one of your works, you know. I was never an easy crier.

I hope you never gave up your dreams to become a best-selling author.

You also had your other interests outside of school. They varied from so many things. One of your most notable interests were dinosaurs. They were such interesting creatures, you said. You bought so many dinosaur-related hats and shirts. The green looked good with your hair and eyes. You borrowed every dinosaur-related book from the school library, even if it was just a swift mention in a paragraph. Eventually, you went to the local library and borrowed more books from there.

An imitating roar,
A sharing of theories,
An animated ramble.

I am honoured that you shared your interests with me. I know you held them close to your heart, and I was one of the few that knew about them.

I hope you still have interests you are so passionate about. I hope you have people who are willing to listen with all their heart.

You moved away at the start of 6th grade because of your family’s work. Sometimes I think on how different the year would have been if you had stayed. I wonder where you are now.

I hope you are still doing well.

Thank you for all you have done. Thank you for smiling, for brightening up my day, for helping me, for just being yourself. You made school fun and something to look forward to. I will always, always remember you.

Sincerely,
Your elementary school best friend

Word Count: 730

March 13th Daily

Quote: “AAAH HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY!” -@pepper-and-a-pencil on @Zionykon’s profile

“AAAAH HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY JADE!” Kennedy shouted, running at Jade full speed. She side-stepped the embrace Kennedy was going for and she slammed into the ground. Jade snickered.
She got right back up, dusting gravel off her bright yellow jacket. She seemed to bring the thing with her everywhere she went, refusing to wear the camp-issued jacket instead of the old stained one. “Jade, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?!” She growled, folding her arms and trying to look intimidating. It didn’t work, considering her height and that she was horrible at not smiling.
“It wasn’t important.” Jade said with a shrug, spinning her battle axes absent-mindedly. “Besides, aren’t you busy doing something else right now? That something you refuse to tell me about?” She asked, pinning her intense gaze onto Kennedy. The short girl gulped.
“Well, yes, I was, but then I heard that your birthday was yesterday! And that’s WAY more important than the silly project I’m working on.” Kennedy huffed. She uncrossed her arms and her expression brightened. “So now, I think you need a party. You look like you haven’t seen the sun in ages.” She told the older girl, grabbing her arm and attempting to drag her away. Jade did not even budge a little bit.
“I’m literally standing under this blazing sun right now, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch me.” Jade snapped, throwing her hand away before she could reveal the tattoo underneath the t-shirt.
It was too late. She must have gotten a glance at the ink, because Kennedy’s eyes widened in surprise and she shut her mouth.
“Well, I already made you a present, so at least take it.” Kennedy said hurriedly, pulling a small package out of the pockets in her jacket. She shoved it into Jade’s hands.
Jade shrugged and spun her axes back into bracelets, sitting down on a fallen dummy she had cut into pieces earlier. She ripped open the packing, and inside the box was…
Jade gasped, spinning the card deck between her fingers. It was a set of imperial gold and celestial bronze tarot and horoscope cards. They were all thin as paper, but still strong enough that they wouldn’t bend, no matter how hard she tried.
She looked up at Kennedy, who was beaming at her hopefully.
Jade wrapped her into a side-hug and smiled.
“Thanks kiddo. Best birthday present I’ve had in a long time.” She told her softly.
Kennedy just smiled.

Word count: 415

Daily 13th March

“In a world of magic and mystery…”

Rose leant her head against the wall, painfully throbbing and aching. She held out her hand to steady herself as she wobbled towards her house, breathing shakily. Her face was ghostly pale, her eyes glazed over and frozen in terror. And it had all started with one sentence, one phrase, one word that sparked her imagination.

“In a world of magic and mystery…” Alf whispered mysteriously. His face was dark and stormy, hinting untold stories and faraway paradises. But behind that was heart-rending sorrow for his closest, who he was about to trick into death.
Rose nodded eagerly, her eyes alight with elation.
“Let’s go!” She exclaimed excitedly.
Alf took her arm and led her through a clump of scrawny trees, their leaves blackened and drooping. A river bubbled and rushed through the jagged rocks, carving an uneven path.

“Jump in.” Alf ordered.
Rose stared at him blankly.
“What?”
“Jump in.” He repeated.
She scoffed. “That’s stupid.
“No, it isn’t. Watch me!”
His voice was threaded with determination as he prepared to jump, clinging to a monstrous rock. He leapt from it, his arms outstretched, and entered the water sleekly. Its silky surface barely rippled as he dived further and further, a shadowy bump, growing steadily smaller until he disappeared altogether. Rose gulped, breathing deeply, cherishing the fresh, pure air. She balanced precariously on a rock’s slippery surface and jumped in, curled up tightly in a ball.

Freezing water rushed into her ears and eyes as bubbles flew from her mouth, frothing water pluming into the air above her. She felt her lungs burning already, and swam down, her legs kicking feebly. Rose’s face contorted with the effort of keeping control over the vicious water, the current pushing against her insistently.
She noticed a distortion below, glittering and shimmering in the faded sunlight. THis must have been where Alf disappeared! Rose dived deeper and straight through it. A cold laugh echoed in her head.
Goodnight!

A searing pain tingled up her arm, and Rose gasped. Water exploded around her, and her mouth filled with the salty water. A huge welt popped up on her arm. Blood blossomed from it, and she screeched, unable to move. She felt herself sinking lower and lower…
A wavering face stared at her, anguished and horrified.
“No!” She shrieked.
She was a lady made completely of water, her body shining and wobbling. Rose smiled at this incredible sight. Spots clouded her vision, closing in on her, until finally, she was enveloped in darkness.

Word War
Pepper :: Script

word count - 176 words

The small ember emerged from below, and just kept growing. It's illuminating glow spread throughout the forest, burning through everything in it's way. Although most would see destruction when looking at such a state, there are others whole believe in the growth and change that a singular flame can bring. A change so sincere, so deep, that it has the ability to completely change the way one perceives the world. As the story is written, fate delivered, one chooses to follow that path without a choice.

That spark, that ember that emits with glow - that signifies that change is being made. The blaze emits a faint, yet bright light, and in doing so that pages burn with fury. The story that was written so carefully, had now gone up in flames. Spelling like smoke, it was tainted in every way possible. Time felt like it was ending, and as the pages faded, it indeed was. Each page being ripped out violently - although it was only burning, the internal sensation of fate was crumbling into shards of

Daily 13
word count - 435 words

I could barely sleep at night with the street lights shining directly through my windows. Although it did give me a sense of comfort to fully appreciate the beauty of our world, it did not help me fall asleep one bit. If anything, it was going to keep me awake all night. I could not afford waking up late again, after all, we had an important unit test scheduled for tomorrow. Despite have a lot on my plate, my mind was somewhat relaxed for some reason - I know it shouldn't have been, and honestly, it got me feeling a bit guilty. To be frankly honest, I didn't study as much as I would've liked to. But it's not because I procrastinated.. I mean, I guess it was part of the reason- but I also had a lot of other classes and extracurriculars to worry about on top of this. All I could do now was hope that my brain would carry me through the test.

As I arranged my pillow in a more comfortable position, I couldn't help but stare at the ceiling once more. All the lights in my room were turned off for once, but despite this, my room felt so bright. Almost as if there was an unknown presence providing warmth and comfort for my destiny. The cold air was lurking in my room, but my blanket kept me warm. While turning towards the window, I noticed small fragments drifting in the air - it was snow! After the long wait this season, of all this rain and melting puddles, we finally had a chance for snow. Seeing it blow violently outside, I felt lucky to have a place to stay amidst it all. I was starting to feel grateful for everything I had - for my family, for my friends, and just simply for being alive.

Before I knew it, my body and mind had drifted off into deep sleep. It showed no signs of waking up in the morning, which was a good thing in this case. For some reason my alarm didn't go off - or maybe it did and someone turned it off to let me sleep. As I groggily got out of bed, I checked my phone to see a bunch of message notifications. Above that, I was an hour late! Before thinking much about it, I quickly skimmed the messages and realized that it was a snow day. This was perfect! I got to get my well deserved rest, and I get an additional day to study. Hmm.. I guess the saying is true. “If you snooze, you win!”

Where the stars shine bright

Where the stars shine bright,
Silky snouts tip to the moon,
Howling their plight,
An eerie yet beautiful tune.

Where the rivers run dry,
Pleading eyes seek waters blue,
The air splits with a guttural cry,
Marking never-ending pursuits.

Where the flames climb high,
Gloved paws thunder from scorching tongues,
Ashes rain down from burning skies,
As mournful farewells are sung.

Where the storms rage strong,
Glossy fur loses its sheen,
Rain hammers on and on,
Crystal clear, from oceans serene.

Where the sun never sets,
Landscapes catch in luminous light,
Casting shadowy silhouettes,
Mother Nature boasting her might.

Where the waves tower tall,
Crashes emanate from pebbled shores,
Water envelopes you like a freezing shawl,
It’s like a lion, with a spine-tingling roar.

Where the stars shine bright,
Silky snouts tip to the moon,
Howling their plight,
An eerie yet beautiful tune.

“you asked me why i wasn't saying a word
i'm naming the stars in the sky after you”

–

Here's my daily (13.03.2024) for Tragedy - 307 words !!

“That one, there,”
I point to the brightest star in the sky and she laughs. I can’t help but wonder if this is be the last time I ever hear the beautiful sound.
“What, the one in the constellation that looks like a donkey?”
“No,” I steer her arm to the right. “/That/ one.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes lit up by the stars. Then she looks at my, and by my breath just

disappears.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers in my ear. “What are you going to name it?”
“I told you, ‘Cassiopeia’”
Cass laughs again. I sigh.
“What do /you/ want me to name it, then? The Most Beautiful Star in the World for the Most Beautiful Girl Who Ever Lived?” I elbow her.
“That sounds about right.”

We sit in silence again. It’s not awkward, it's just … I feel completely comfortable sitting by her side by the burning bonfire, pointing out stars. Still, it’s Cass’ last day here before she goes off to fight, and I know I should be asking her endless questions, learning her off by heart, so if she doesn’t come back –

Stop.
Don’t. Think.

“Promise me you’ll never forget me,” I murmur, barely getting the words out.
Cass’ laughing mask suddenly comes off. She looks shocked for a moment, then replies more softly than I've ever heard, “Of course.”

I nod slightly, but don’t believe it. It’s Cass’ way to move on without looking back, and I don’t think she’ll ever realise how much I - or others - care for her. For the freckles that dot her face like poppy seeds, for her slightly crooked bottom teeth, for everything about her.
For the flowers she gave me in the spring, and the scarf in the winter.
“Good.” is the reply I finally choke out, before a tear escapes.

Daily #13
3/13/2024
307 words

AN: Tried something a bit different and this gave me so much unnecessary trouble KDJFSL- Anyways, finally reached the wc minimum and hope you enjoy!
Inspired by the quote “their hands meet, and light spills in a flood” from Lulu's profile <3

The room is dimly lit with candles on the table, next to forgotten dinners. The melody of a waltz plays in the background. The ground a makeshift dancefloor, and dusted with rose petals.
A couple in the center of the room, eyes closed and silent. They glide slowly through their tiny apartment, relishing in the quiet. Soft whispers and giggles fill the silence. They follow the music, hearts at peace.
The waltz slows to a halt, as murmurs grow, exchanging thoughts on the past five years. She only wears her heart on her sleeve for times like these; he loves hearing her vulnerable at times like these.
Eventually, they chat over sparkling cider, half-finished dinners traded for fruits and chocolates.
He stares at her bright eyes, his hand swirling his glass, before taking a sip. She's distracted, talking and dropping another grape into her mouth. A blanket of stillness settles over them.
She looks up and they lock eyes, chocolate brown and rich hazel melting into each other, both a burning gaze.
He offers out a hand, head bowing slightly. Her hand slides right into his, their fingers intertwining.
The last rays of the sunset stream in from the window, gold covering the wooden floor and each of the petals glowing in the light. The sun catches her brown hair, casting a halo around her.
They fall back into step with the waltz, moving from memory of the countless times they have danced together. Large shadows cover the floor, following their movement, the beam of sunlight shifting around them. Laughter mingles together, melodic in their ears. Promises of love linger in the air, their steady gazes on one another.
Throughout the past five years, they've had their share of ups and downs, highs and lows. They survived. And they're together.
She hopes they can last another five.

Critique
@nerdyme2 :: dystopian

word count - 731 words

At the beginning of this story, you will find that there are two people in the room where this story starts.

You start this sentence by saying “at the beginning of this story”, and end this sentence by saying “where this story starts”. In some sense, this becomes repetitive because the reader already knows you're talking about the beginning of the story. I'd suggest removing one of them as to improve the fluency of this sentence, and to make sure that it doesn't become redundant ;D (I'd personally remove the “at the beginning of the story”, because using the ending you currently have adds more suspense to your writing! - though it's entirely up to you)

In this room, there were objects that could save the world, or destroy it.

I love the comparison that you're making here, because there's truly a difference between those two types of objects! This being said, I think you need to further differentiate the two objects by adding more emphasis. You could do that by rewording this phrase to: “In this room, there were objects that could either save the world, or those that would completely destroy it.” – by doing this, you signify to the reader that the difference is quite extreme.

There is one man, and one woman. The man was wearing a white tunic. He had blonde hair that was an inch away from his shoulders. One of the women was wearing a green dress with flowers all over it. She had long red hair that was hanging over her shoulders. They both had the same emotion on their face, yet different. They both had a look of fear, but for different things.

I feel like you can combine some of the sentences here for consistency. Right now it feels a bit disconnected reading through this, but if you perhaps combine similar topics togethers, it might help the passage flow a bit better! At the starting you mentioned one women, but then your other sentence says “one of the women” - just make sure that you're differentiating between the singular and plural genders here. In this case, I'd reword this passage to be something like this:
“There is one man, and one woman. The man had blonde hair that was an inch away from his shoulders, almost matching with the white tunic that he was wearing. The woman was wearing an olive green dress with flowers dispersed all over it, her long red hair hanging over her shoulders.” When you do this, it adds more description to the story, but like I said before, will also help with the fluency that you're going for <3

“Do we have to do this?” the woman in a green dress asked.

Nothing too big here - just that I'd recommend change “the woman in a green dress” to “the woman in the green dress”. I know this is a small change, but you've already introduced the woman the green dress, so by using “the”, it signifies that it's the same women you described earlier.

“You know there’s another way.”
“And you know that’s impossible.”
“He’s not gone,” She said, sadly. “Just…lost.”

This whole dialogue passage was absolutely phenomenal! It was super well-written and the tension it adds to the story is amazing! I felt my self truly getting lost as I was reading this, so I really want to commend you for that! You've definitely gotten me hooked ;D

This is the beginning of this story. It may not be pretty, or have a happy ending, but that's the story. Well, not the whole story.

AHH This is such a good hook to end off the story with! it creates a lot of suspense, and I really want to know what happens now (if you do ever continue it, I would love to see it <3)

Overall
I've got to say that this is a well-written prologue! Your ideas are all there, and I love the plot line that you're following - there surely are quite a few ups and downs within it, but that's what keeps a story going! Overall I think this was a wonderful intro to your story, it has suspense while also introducing us to the characters. The development that you show as the prologue goes on is incredible, and it truly leaves the reader on a hook, grasping for more! I think the middle portion (the starting of the interaction between Harold and Edmund) was a bit confusing for me. I think it was more or so the use of “the man/woman” while also using names at the same time. It kind of confused me at times since I wasn't sure who you were referring to in the story. After reading it a few times I understood, but I would recommend revising that part a bit to ensure that the reader understands who's actually saying what. Other than that, I feel like you write really powerful dialogue with a lot of meaning, and I really like that when reading stories. The hook you ended off with is absolutely perfect and I wouldn't change a thing <3 That being said, this was an awesome prologue, and I can't wait to see the rest of your story ;D (please do let me know when you write the next little bit, I'm super excited to read it!)

Daily 013: 325 words, Sing Me To Sleep
❝ we're born at night / so much of our lives / is just carving through the dark ❞
note: i took some artistic liberties with this lol

Child of the night, whisper till the morning
Sh, sh, don’t cry
Close your sleepy eyes and never mind the mourning
Let me sing you a lullaby
Dream of life and love, not death
Sweetest one, don’t cry, I’m here
Be thankful for your every breath
Night closes in; you have nothing to fear
Sleep until the dawn of day
Child of the night, whisper till morning
Sunshine breaks, broken voices pray
Close your sleepy eyes and never mind the mourning
Born to darkness to die in the light
Dream of life and love, not death
Reaching for day from the shadows of night
Be thankful for your every breath
Innocent hands, grasping for gold
Sleep until the dawn of day
Trick of the sun; it’s merely mold
Sunshine breaks, broken voices pray
Dust glitters and sparkles, false in the sun
Born to darkness to die in the light
Sobbing for starlight till our days are done
Reaching for day from the shadows of night
Straining for the moon when we can’t touch the sky
Innocent hands, grasping for gold
Falling when we fail, hiding when we cry
Trick of the sun, it’s merely mold
Getting up again, stumbling through the dark
Dust glitters and sparkles, false in the sun
Loving the sunshine even when it tears us apart
Sobbing for starlight till our days our done
Loving the light, even when it blinds us
Straining for the moon when we can’t touch the sky
Craving the light, even when it binds us
Falling when we fail, hiding when we cry
Sh, sh, don’t cry
Getting up again, stumbling through the dark
Let me sing you a lullaby
Loving the sunshine even when it tears us apart
Sweetest one, don’t cry, I’m here
Loving the light, even when it binds us
Night closes in, you have nothing to fear.
Craving the light, even when it binds us
Child of the night, whisper till the morning…

Churro's Dailies No. 13- 3/13/2024
❝ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀʏ…❞ ~mossflower29

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There's never been another one of the Mystics here in the Sandlands. Terra had never seen one, at least. She'd only heard about them, traveling caravans with camels and sacks filled with diamonds and gems, amethyst, and quartz. The Mystics were described as sometimes good, sometimes bad witches and sorcerers who performed services for the people in the Lands. What services, Terra didn't know. She did know that they were very powerful, with magic in their fingertips and mystery ringing in their bones. And she'd wanted to be one; but her parents had other ideas. All she could do was wait for the Mystics to come back to the Sandlands, and then wait for any chances.
Alas, the magical Mystics came to the Sandlands, the herald announces excitedly. I guess I'm not the only one whose mind is captured by the mysterious Mystics, Terra thought. She and the rest of the Sandpeople ran down to the desert valley and saw the fabled people in black, billowing cloaks, riding on camels, donkeys, and other mounts. Animals she'd never seen before. The people of the Sandlands don't see much anyway, in the secluded desert. They're what the other Lands might call “country bumpkins”. Terra's eyes widened as the cloaked figures drew closer… one of them reaches out a hand… to her.
“We weren't requested by anyone.” The leader says. Terra could tell that they were the leader from their more elaborate outfit: still the black cloak, but their ears were adorned with long amethyst earrings, and a necklace of gold and turquoise hung across their neck. “We're here to search for new recruits. The people of the upscale Metropolis have been persecuting us for our craft. Say they have AI or something. But they don't respect the ancient magic.” They pulled back their hood to reveal two intense, gray eyes and luscious dark brown hair, their skin the color of the earth. Like Terra's. She was named after the dirt.
“And we have chosen someone who has magic inside them. In a world of magic and mystery, only few people have real magic inside of them.” They outstretch their hand once more to Terra. “Join us, Earthen One.”
And she takes their hand eagerly.

(I used a quote from the profile of @MoonlitSeas, which is, I think, from a Hozier song? “we're born at night / so much of our lives / is just carving through the dark”)

We’re hatched of the same nest, made of ice and shadow and longing. We’re born at night, three lost souls in an empty world.
One of us, torn away too soon, is left to wander ghostly trails through the mists of time. A fragile leaf is shaken free from its tree and sails into the vast sky, disappearing from sight, into the distance, into the lonely expanse of a forgotten past. Clouds blow in on a puff of wind and obscure the sky, gliding by on their way to somewhere else. They are light, light as the memory of dreams. There are brighter wishes waiting out there, beyond the horizon, hidden in the future. We are sure of this.
The two of us, left behind, are close for the briefest of moments. Fighting with all we have against the world, we’re the youth that is never meant to last. So much of our lives are spent wishing things could have turned out differently. The divide grows, deepens, and we let it. It’s better than the alternative, after all. Following a path of darkness, it is not long before the traveller is adrift, alone, changing right before their own blinded eyes. The metamorphosis, the forgetting, the fresh start. Run and run and never escape, but perhaps move on, chase the clouds, find acceptance on the other side of a mirror. The breeze stirs up a flame, and then even the shadows feel like home, softly making peace with the blaze that reaches out, offering hope, creating something new. We learn the thousand faces of the truth.
The last of us, frost spreading over the cracks in a shattered heart, hardens beneath the weight. The clouds come and go, the flames die down, the winds rise. The feeble shine of the sun is not enough to banish the shades that haunt the corner of sight. They twist and seethe, blocking out what little light remains within the flock of souls. With every step upwards, the sky moves out of reach slightly more, and the breeze slips through the firmest grasps. When everything beneath turns to sand, there is nothing left to do but fall, and the ashes swallow the embrace. We all die alone.
Sometimes it seems that all we do is just carving through the dark, searching for what we cannot return to. There are shadows that are a part of us, a coldness that we carry no matter where we go. We share that, the three of us, and maybe that’s all we have left now. The songs will outlive the distance between us.

daily 13, 390 words
“you asked me why i wasn't saying a word
i'm naming the stars in the sky after you” from starr's profile ))

–

The night was beautiful. The black sky twinkled with millions of shimmering diamonds. We lay on our backs looking at them, and for the longest time, neither of us said anything, just absorbing the quiet of the night.

“What are you thinking about?” I eventually ventured, breaking the silence.

She sighed, her eyes still on the faraway stars. “I was just thinking about what I want to do in my life.”

“Why worry about that now?” I asked. “You have all the time in the world to decide.”

“I know… but I want to do something amazing, you know? Something that will help people all over the world. I want to accomplish something and feel like I really made the world a better place. I want… I want my life to have an impact. I was just thinking about that.”

I looked at my sister. She was still gazing at the stars. I could see their white reflection in her moonlit eyes.

I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her that she had had an impact—a tremendous impact. On me. I wanted to tell her that she was my best friend, the one person in the world whom I trusted, the one person whom I could laugh with for hours and who always made my day. I wanted to tell her that even when there was nobody else to turn to, when I was at my lowest, I could always turn to her. I wouldn’t have made it as far as I did without her. If there was anyone who had made an impact on my life, it was her. Just by existing.

But I didn’t know how to put that all into words. So instead, I, too, turned my gaze to the stars.

She said quietly, “Did you know some people had these stars named after them? Imagine how wonderful it must have felt, to know that you made such a difference that people named something after you. Something people will always remember you by. I hope one day, someone remembers me like that too.”

I smiled and didn’t say anything. We stayed like that for a long time. Then—

“What are you thinking about?” she said, breaking the silence.

I sighed softly, my eyes still on the farawary stars.

“I’m naming the stars in the sky after you.”