Hi there, future CD!

I’m writing this on the second of November 2024. I want us to come back to this on the second of December, and hopefully- if we remember! - January. I know that we find self-reflection difficult, but I hope that we’re able to look back and re-read this! It’s only a two-month time period of reflection, but I guess we all have to start somewhere.

Anyways, the first thing I want to say- mainly to January me- is to take a second. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and just do nothing. I know that we have big exams coming up. I know that we might be more stressed than ever, and that these weeks will be difficult. But we need to take time in between the studying for ourselves.

At the end of the day, this R.E. grade is not going to define our lives. Heck, we’re not even taking the real exam- this is our opportunity to make mistakes. Try our best, yes. Do as well as we can. Study hard. We’re going to do well- we’re smart, capable, hardworking. We just need to believe those things and allow ourselves to relax, just for a little bit. Believe me, we’ll thank ourselves.

I was going to think of something specific to say to the December me, as well, but I think my previous points are some of the most important things that we need to hear. It’s Christmas season! One of our favourite holidays. Please, please- I implore you. Enjoy it.

(Don’t forget to uphold our high standards and lock tf in tho )

Anyways, maybe I’ll try and write letters more often. Maybe I won’t. But I hope that we’re able to re-read this one as I’ve planned, and that we’re actually able to listen to it.

Anyways- see you then! Hope we’re all well <3

Dear Future Self,
I think it’s almost time. I’ve set my plans to be launched in November, and the month is upon me now. Saying it like that sounds all dramatic, of course, but even if the launches are really just small things, it doesn’t mean that they won’t be the start of something bigger someday. Right?
I don’t know how far in the future you are from where I am now, but I hope some of the decisions I’ve made recently are working out for you. I hope I’ve set things up well and made the right choices.
If only you could tell me how it all went.
My alt-birthday is on November 6, and just like New Year’s, it’s an end and a beginning. Honestly, it feels even more profound than my literal birthday. In 4 days, I get to die and be reborn again, and this time, I’ll be moving forward into a new chapter unlike any I’ve lived through before.
I can’t believe I’m almost an adult now. Change happens so slowly that no one notices until one day, you look back and see your life stretched out behind you. You have to believe that you lived it well.
I think I did okay.
I watched the movie Harold and Maude early today, which I suppose is fitting for all this talk of life and death. I truly enjoyed it, and I think some of it will stick with me as I go through this transition. My mom asked me if I’ll be all eccentric when I become old, and I responded “I sure hope so.”
I don’t really want to live every day to the fullest; I’m just not that kind of person. I just want to contribute a few little things today to help build a grander future, some long-term project that maybe you’ll get to enjoy.
I want to do this all for you, Future Self. That’s why I’m ending this here and letting you write the rest. It’s your story now.
Love,
Wild of November 2, 2024

DAILY 2, FORMATTING LATER BC SPEEDRUNNING RAHHHHH

307 WORDS!!! :D

Hey…Aster. Future Aster. I’m past Aster. Ahaha. This is going to get annoying fairly quickly.

It’s November second. I don’t know when you’ll see this. Or if you will. But if you are…great work. You’re still alive. So take a second. Maybe realize that….you’re here. Alive. Not dead.


….all done? wonderful. I suppose I should continue.

today was okay. I did manage to blow up eggs. I’m afraid I’m not as good at…cooking as I am at baking. Not sure what happened…you’d think that all that good food mother made us would’ve…helped me cook at least something decent. but I did go outside. I laid in the grass for a bit. you should try it today too. I barely ever do that. It sounds unhealthy. But I’m sick today, anyway, so it’s alright today. My throat hurts, and I’m drinking some herbal tea. You still like that stuff too? Hope so. It’s real good.

I’d really hope we can stop doing….you know what I mean. Maybe get our memory back too. I’d really like to remember. It’s hard these. Maybe it’s the lack of my purpose. I still don’t know what I am. Do you? Have you stopped being scared? Are your friends…still….there…and have you told them you’d want to be called something else? If you haven’t…take your time, kid. I don’t know if I can call you that. You’re older than me.

Oh, yeah. It’d be their birthday this month, wouldn’t it? (You should get them a lil spinny hat. wink wink nudge nudge. ) Please make a card for them. They’ve helped you through so much. I’d like for you to repay them.



…I don’t have anything else, really.

just remember.





MY NAME IS TSUKASA TENMA, WORLD FUTURE ST— (DO NOT FORGET THE TSUKASA BRAINROT)



…jk.





just…


remember, aster. :]






<3

-past aster.

Dailies
November 2nd
November 7th
November 11th
November 14th
November 19th
November 20th
November 27th (not submitted)

Weeklies
Weekly 1
Weekly 2
Weekly 3 (unfinished)
Weekly 4

Others
Word War 1
Writing Comp entry (original)
Critique for @babyoda1546

Oak's thread!!!
Oak’s thank you notes <3
Thanks for an amazing session guys <3

First of all, my amazing cabin leaders, Alana, Clev, and CJ.

Alana- You were such a fun and cool leader to have! I enjoyed talking to you, and gosh, whatever part you put into the storyline was freaking amazing! Thank you so much for being that cool of a leader <3

Clev- I didn’t talk much with you, but from what I’ve seen and heard, your an amazing co-leader! I’m sure whatever you put in the AMAZING storyline was chefs kiss. Thank you for helping lead an amazing cabin <3

CJ- I didn’t talk with you, from what I remember, but you seem like a cool co-leader! When I was looking at the leader apps, yours definitely was worth being a co-leader

Second of, My super-cool cabinmates! If you don’t have a specific thank you note, it’s because I didn’t get to speak with you much.

Alex- I think I spoke to you once or twice, and I’ve seen you around! You seem like a really cool person to get to know!

Vi- We were in dystopian last session, (correct me if I was wrong) and when I spoke to you, I was like, ”cool person alert!” I got excited when I found out we were in the same cabin again. How fun is that! Thank you for being a cool cabinmate, Vi <3

Ava- We didn’t speak, but I’ve seen you around! You seem like a fun cabinmate to have

Wari- Again, haven’t spoken to you, but I’ve seen you around, and yet again, you seem like a fun person to get to know.

Mint- I think I may have spoken to you, (though I might be wrong) and overall from what I’ve seen, I’d definitely be interested to get to know you more!

Eevee- You. Were. Such. A. Cool. Cabinmate! You wrote so much this session, and as I’m writing this, you’re freaking 1ST PLACE on the trackbear! Gosh, those words turn into points, and oh. My. god. We will be rich in points! $$! Thanks for being such a cool cabinmate!

Via- I may have only spoken to you a few times, but like, gosh, you seem like such a cool cabinmate! Thanks for being a cabinmate in my cabin! (gosh that sounded weird)

Kat- You are such a cool cabinmate (like everyone else, but everyone is also unique hehe) thanks for being in my cabin this session!

Lily- I spoke to you quite a few times, and your one of the top 3 in trackbear as I say this! TWO magreal people in top 3?!?! That’s crazy

Everyone else in magical realism- I may not have spoken or seen you around, but I’m sure you were just as amazing as everyone else was this session

Third, random swc-ers and others!

Sage- OMG we may have met near the end of the session, but like, you are so cool! I really enjoyed critiquing your piece, and talking to you overall! Thank you for listening to my chatter <3

Moss- I enjoy talking with you, whether we are in the same cabin or not! (which has not happened XD) Thank you for being such an amazing host

The daily team- You guys never fail to come up with good ideas for dailies. Whether they are old classics, or new ideas, they never fail!

Polar bears- Yes. Just yes. You guys always slay XD

Literally everyone- YOU GUYS ARE ALWAYS SO COOL! YOU ARE ALL SO FUNNY AND KIND AND COOL AND JUST YES! THANKS FOR AN AMAZING SESSION EVERYBODY!






Daily 1, 1k intro!!!

Hi! Hello! Hey! I go by, Oak, but I also go by Wisp or Remi in this little-big corner of the internet! I am genderfluid, so my pronouns change often, and as I'm writing this, I am using They/He pronouns. During this wonderful session, I am in the wonderful cabin called Magical Realism (it will win by the way) Let's get into it!
I am your fellow swc-er who just loves writing, (obviously), and is also a like, kinda huge bookworm. I am a Leo, (fire sign!). I have almost no idea which session this is for me, but I'm pretty sure it’s my 3rd or 4th session. I’m in the EST timezone, so I get to start writing for dailies and such at 8:00 in my timezone, which in my opinion is great (even though I still get like, no sleep lol). Even though you already probably know this, I AM SO FREAKING EXCITED for this session to unwrap! Let’s get into some of my hobbies/interests!
I have a lot of hobbies, some of which are common, or less common.
I love making animal masks, writing, crafting (made my whole costume), reading, quadrobics, gardening, Kandi making, thrifting, etc., you get the point! I am going to hand you over to my other self, the one who will rant to you about his interests for hours upon hours. …. Hold on….
Ok! I’m back and now am going to rant to you about my list of fandoms/interests!
Here’s a list of non-music interests
Warrior Cats (BEST BOOK SERIES EVER)
Wings of Fire (SECOND BEST BOOK SERIES)
The Hunger Games (THIRD BEST BOOK SERIES)
Boooooooooksssssss (reading and writing are #1)
The Owl House (GIMME SEASON 4)
She-ra
Invader Zim (GIR)
Steven Universe (my number 1 comfort show)
Bluey (The best show in the universe, one of my comfort shows)
Curious George (a comfort show )
Foxes
Capybaras
Now you can see my music interests. (maybe we share some )
Cavetown
Melanie Martinez
Amelie Farren
Yaelokre
Fish in a Birdcage
Chappel Roan
Sylvan Esso
Honestly, my playlist is all over the place, and those are just some artists I like. If I could I would list all of the songs on my playlist(s), but I can’t cause my Spotify is down like the scratch forums right now.
Here are some fun facts about me! Beware, some might surprise you!
For one, I have 17 pets! 11 chickens, 3 dogs, two cats, and a hamster. The chicken's names are Nugget, Queso, Ms. Fluffers, Henny, Sweetie Pie, Feisty Fiona, Maggie, Winnie, Fern, Mother Clucker, and Stella. The dog's names are Luna, Tula, and Tino, and the cat's names are Daisy Bling Bling, and Froggy. I also have a hamster named Tiger. I also have 7 siblings and 4 moms My step-brother's account is @furrytherianpride. I am bisexual and genderfluid. I am a therian/furry (no hate please!) and my theriotypes are border collie, coyote, gray wolf, and turkish angora. I can't think of any other fun facts.
I am the sort of student to get all a's, or at least attempt to. (look I try my best). I enjoy pottery and sewing (probably should put that up in my interests/hobbies, but I'm lazy). I love cozy blankets and pillows, (and stuffies obviously). At this point I'm just talking random, so let's maybe try to go back on topic. I'll start by saying this: I have no special backstory on how I got into swc, I just kinda came across it, signed up and tried it out. I forgot about it (yes shame on me) for a year or something like that. Then I came across the july 24' signups for this year and was like “OMG YES”, so yeah now I'm here
This session, I'm aiming for 10k words, and to complete more dailies. I never really do weeklies, so I'm going to try to this session! I have noticed that every session, my writing improves over and over. For example, before July 2024, the reading level for my writing in WordCounter was between 5-8 grade, and now its 11-college! I am really proud of myself, and I thank all of those who sent me motivation mangoes. I couldn't possibly imagine a better scratch camp. Not to mention the amazing community!
The only problem is I'm terrible at getting good sleep, even when swc is not in session, no matter what I try.
I love watching fan animations for things like Warrior Cats or Wings of Fire, some of them make me cry! (poor Ravenpaw). I only sometimes like plot twists and jump scares. Only sometimes. ONLY SOMETIMES. I love tea, did I mention that? I also am a bit obsessed with soup, especially when my mom makes Zuppa Toscana. You should try it. Friendly not so friendly reminder to watch Pirates of the Caribbean and read Warrior Cats <3. Now, go sleep for me cuz I can't. Anyways, did I mention that I like anything queer? Like, #prideandjoy!!! I would like to mention my endless list of aesthetics and fandoms, like some of the aesthetics DO NOT match at all, like alternative and cottagecore. What? Yeah, I make no sense.
I'm hoping to get into animations soon, (as soon as I get a freaking iPad and iPad pen XD). Like, that just sounds interesting to me. I also randomly fixate on one song, then listen to it to the point where I hate it and never want to hear it again, which I am hoping is relatable. I also despise people using she/her pronouns for me currently, so don't even try to say those forbidden words about me > Anyway (god I gotta stop saying that) I love learning new vocabulary, and my favorite word is either enunciate or exquisite. They are so pleasant on my tongue!!! And a word I can't. Stop. Saying. Is like. Like, I'm always going “like, like, like” For example, I just said like not even on purpose!
Well, I hope you learned a bit more about me from reading this, and I can't wait to see where this session takes us! (oh and my favorite color is green or blue) Bye for now!!!
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daily 2, Dear Future Me…

Why hello, me! How are you doing???? I sure hope you remember writing this because I have a bit to say. Shall we get into it? You know what, I don’t even need to ask, cause you are reading it right now!
I have a few questions, so I guess I should probably ask them… Anyways, did you get a good grade on the color wheel? I am currently stressing about it, even though I should probably not be. Did you get a boba pal you love? Well, that one was kind of easy to answer, cause I’m sure they are all cute… and loveable.. And FREAKING ADORABLE!! Also…. Did I reach my word goal, or even possibly get higher? Because I don’t think I ever have. I mean, I’ve gotten close, but not quite. I think that’s it for questions.
I have some goals I hope I reach, including my word goal. I wanted to know if I met all of the dailies, and even possibly a weekly or two. I was hoping to have all A’s by the end of this month (yes I know I’m obsessed with grades). Ooh and maybe try a few more *sparkle* boba *sparkle* if you know what I mean *evil laugh*!
Anywayyyyyyyy I need to know who won, so please write back to this ASAP. Like, I need you to right about… NOW! Go on go do it! Pleaseeeeeee?!?!??! Ok, I’m seriously not kidding. Really? You need motivation mangoes? Fineeeeeeeee. *throws mangoes
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daily 3, Getting to know you
Phrase from @AmazaEevee
“haii i made some macaroni”
__________________________
Ven today, 11:47 am
haii i made some macaroni

Nezooooooo <3 today, 11:49 am
and…?

Ven today, 11:50 am
do you wanna come over and eat it with me?? <3

Ven aggressively stared at the phone, awaiting a response. One minute passed. Then three. Then five. Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door. She switched off her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and leaped up from the table. She answered the door to find her girlfriend, Nezo, waiting with a dish in her hands. Nezo handed it to Ven, planting a kiss on her cheek. Ven unwrapped the silver foil. Two spaghetti tacos were delicately placed. “OH MY GOD” Ven squealed. “YOU KNOW MY FAVORITES SO WELL!” she practically screamed. “Now, come come come we must eat these with my almost cold macaroni,” she said, ushering Nezo into the small kitchen. She sat Nezo down in the chair in front of the macaroni, sitting next to her and placing the tacos in between them. “Ok I know this is cold, but it’s really good,” Nezo said between scarfing down the macaroni. Ven blushed, silently hoping Nezo hadn't seen her do so. By the time Nezo had eaten about half the macaroni, Ven had finished the first taco, They swapped, each eating their own food now. When they finished, Nezo slapped two slips of paper on the table. “Hmm, what's this?” Ven asked, licking her lips. She slid the slips toward herself and studied them. “Ooh!” she said in excitement. “You got tickets to SlideSmile!” she said, hopping up and down in her seat. SlideSmile was her and Nezo’s favorite band, and it was really tricky to get tickets. “I thought you might be excited,” said Nezo, blushing. “Well, you were right!” said Ven, getting up and hugging her.
Haha jokes on you, you can’t see the end (also no one said it had to have an ending)
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Daily 7, 10 words to a story
Using @pepper-and-a-pencil ‘s 10:
i’m treated like a monster, always left in the dark

I sit up, sweating heavily and heaving air. I look around, chest heaving, shaking, and shivering. It’s ok. They were just a dream. I tell myself unconvincingly. I shake my head and try to lay back down. But I can’t. I start sweating again, panting and heaving uncontrollably. I sit up again, sweeping off the choking, hot, sweaty blankets. I get out of bed, wobbling, and then fall to my knees. Everyone… everyone thinks I’m a monster. Everyone everyone everyone… I whimper, curling into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth. I shouldn’t be acting like this, I’m too old. Not like anyone would care. Or notice, for that matter. I breathe in. Out. In. Out. In. I hold the last one until I can’t anymore, finally letting out the last puff of air. I try to sit up, propping myself against the flimsy bedframe they left me. Them. Oh god. I HATE them. They took everything, and left me in the dark to rot, expecting me to fix everything. But I failed. Yes, I failed them, that's what happened. Now I’m nothing but a monster. They were right, well, ARE right. I just have to figure out how to escape… get out. Yes, get out. But then what could I do? I have no home, no family, no friends. I should give in, and rot like they want me too…

Daily #3
from @they-call-me-lei's profile

me
imma fight a man <3

Lilac couldn’t help but chuckle as she sent the text. She was about to turn off her phone when it started buzzing repeatedly.

Golden Boy <3
Li
What does that mean
Lilac

Lilac was, of course, kidding. She was off to go train with the Portal Guard, whom she affectionately called PG. Hunter was clueless. She hadn’t had a moment to give him the run-down of how things worked yet. And still didn’t have a proper moment.

Her phone kept angrily buzzing as Hunter repeatedly texted her, looking for clarification.

Her phone started ringing.

Oh, he was calling her? She pulled her phone of her pocket. “Ye-es?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN???” He practically shouted. Lilac fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it.

“Stars, I was kidding!” She snapped, irritated about nearly having her eardrum blown out. “I’m training, which involves fighting. With a guy.”

“Oh.” Hunter said softly. He sounded embarrassed. “Well, you can’t just say things out of context like that!”

“I can and there’s absolutely no stopping me!” She was fighting back a grin.

A long pause.

“I hate you.” He finally said, voice flatter than she’d heard in a long time.

“Aw,” she cooed. “I love you too, Golden Boy.” She said, pitching her voice and batting her eyelashes even if he couldn’t see.

She pulled the phone away from her face as she laughed. She was glad that their little inside joke had finally switched sides.

She could hear him sigh. “You can be really annoying, you know that?”

“Oh, absolutely!” She couldn’t help but chuckle as she said it. “Older sister powers, y’know?”

“Do middle children just not have annoying powers?” he asked, and she could hear the poorly concealed laughter in his voice.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p.’ “You guys are invisible, ‘member?”

“Oh, yeah.” He paused. “Woo-ooo, I’m a ghost.”

Lilac laughed, moving her free hand to cover her mouth. “So scary.”

“Hey—” Hunter started before he was drowned out by a, “Who are you talking to?”

Lilac let out a short, inelegant yelp as she jumped. She nearly dropped her phone for the second time this day. She caught it as small, light blue sparks leapt off her skin. She twisted around, only to see PG’s towering figure. He looked unimpressed.

“You’re early, but you weren’t paying attention. You should always be on your toes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his ice blue eyes narrowed.

“We’re not even at the training grounds!” She crossed her arms back, tilting up her head to make eye contact with him.

She blinked when she faintly heard Hunter’s voice. He was still on the phone.

“Li? Li? You alright? What happened?” He sounded genuinely worried.

“I’m alright. Somebody decided to jump scare me.” She pointedly glared at PG, who just rolled his eyes. “But, yeah, training, gotta go. Hate you, bye!” She said quickly.

“Love you too—?” Hunter said before he was cut off as she hung up the phone.

PG raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask. Long story.” Lilac said. “Anyways, training?”

“Yes, that’s what we were going to do before we were interrupted.” His eyes pointedly glanced down to her phone before meeting her eyes.

“Yeah. Sorry.” She mumbled, only sounding half-apologetic.

“Shall we?” PG asked, offering his arm as if Lilac was a lady back in the days of knights and castles.

Lilac snorted softly. “We shall.” She awkwardly took his arm, having no clue what she was doing.

Oly's SWC NOV '24 MEGATHREAD ARCHIVES


KEY

• BOLDED sections with a date represent a completed Daily, which will be highlighted with their corresponding value. Weeklies will include a large font, as well as official Writing Contest entries.
  

• UNDERLINED sections, without a date, are unrelated writing to a SWC requirement for a daily/weekely, but are added as word count.
  

Completed Dailies + Weekendlies - Statements written directly from subject

11/1 / Daily / 477 words
I have given up on my company-enforced 1k intro…


(Is this thing on? Oh, right, yes, it's recording. Right. I can't waste any more tape- oh, hello!)

Thank you for coming in, this is a good example of rambling so I hope it doesn't throw anyone off too much. I'm Oly, coming straight from the CLSE, another supernatural organization in a sense- but I *AM* a supernatural employee, dealing with the unexplained…not the other way around! AKA; I'm a Bangsian Nov. ‘24 camper.

I use she/her pronouns and identify as cupioromantic asexual. I’m also super into psychology and typology, so some parts of my basic stack are that I'm an ENFJ 2w3 so/sx 279 VEFL EIE EF(N) Sanguine-Phlegmatic!

I'm newer to the Scratch Camp scene, and this is my second session, (Dystopain Sinking City in the July ‘24 session), but I am excited to grow throughout the month with you all, regardless of our alliances (yes, even you, Paranormal go fund me. Hello, Rush.)

I’m passionate about everything I participate in and enjoy. I'm an avid horror fan, and mostly enjoy the subgenres of web horror (think The Mandela Catalogue, Gemini and the classics, analog horror, Kane Pixels' works…) and horror pocasts (The Magnus Archives has taken over my brain, but I also like Welcome to Night Vale and Malevolent!!) I love roleplay and writing fanfiction- I get WAY too into it and especially love writing in the darker realm of AUs/alternatives. I'm a sports person- a proud XC and track runner, swimmer, and basketball player. I'm obsessed with NHL hockey (go Leafs.) My favorite color is yellow and I also love video games, especially Daybreak and TLoZ! I enjoy cooking and creative outlets such as art (drawing, painting, sculpture (CARDBOARD NOT CLAY!)), playing piano (12 years of experience) and musical composition.

This month, I want to build my narratives around the fundamentals of emotion and human experience. I'm finding lots of inspiration from questions I've asked myself and personal struggles I have been working on throughout the last few months. Everything seems to be coming full-circle and writing has always been special to me because it is an outlet for such unexplained emotions and questions, and allows me to explore it within the reaches of fantasy, or creating relatable experiences to perhaps help another through these struggles of expression, identity, and being.

Another goal of mine is to enter AT LEAST the fanfiction contest in SWC with an original Magnus fic. Which idea of the 15 will I enter-?? (Help me! The Corruption Tim Avatar possibilities are tragically endless and I have to share them with the world DX!)

I generally want to write works that are meaningful to me and help expand my capabilities for understanding emotion while writing, while having fun with the others at SWC!! I'm so excited to get to know each of you!

11/2 / Daily / 250 words

An Oly of the Future-

You will most likely read this too soon, or come back to it and reflect upon it negatively at some point, wondering why your past self decided to write something in this manner to you. You were always better at motivational feedback to others, after all, but this is simply a check-in to yourself. And not others.

I hope you (me, in this sense) is more comfortable with such subjects, and the topic of self-support. I hope you have established yourself and your identity in a shiny new university and found a community you feel accepts you, and allow yourself to present in the most authentic way you feel.

I hope you wake up every morning (that's a stretch; we know ourselves) and feel as though you are going in the right direction. I hope you have continued doing the things that have brought you joy.

I hope you have told them all and that you feel right. I want you to feel RIGHT. What does that mean? Well, I hope you've figured out what you want that to mean. I'm sure it's a wonderful thing and I wish I could share it with you in the present, but that cannot happen, so for now, I wish that you have not only reached for it but grasped it tightly.

Don't let it go. It is precious, and I hope you feel as though your time is precious and worthwhile and that you have surrounded yourself in all things that help you reach it.

(On an incredibly non-serious note; you better have loved MAG 200.)


Love,
Past Oly

11/3 / Daily / xx words

Pre-Statement notes:
Thank you to the wonderful @booklover883322 (Bookie) for having great conversations with me from anywhere from horror and books to sporting events and podcasts- even to trying to speak the closest to Early Modern English that our sanities could handle- and generally just a really fun person ^^ I'm so happy I have and am continuing to talk with you (and the rest of the coworkers!)

PROMPT: “Sanity? What's that?” -Bookie's bio


He'd been fixated on the pages of words he didn't quite understand, the letters and meanings just out of his grasp as she watched on. Ever since they'd discovered the journal, her brother had been tucked away for the remainder of the hot, summer days as the rest of the group continued searching. Walking along the coast, always looking out towards the strange landform in which they found the small object coated in a leather cover that would become the ignition for all their problems.

It was her idea to burn the book.

A strange thought, at first, though she realized how agonizing it was to only watch on. Even more so to become a spectator to the downfall of someone who had never had a focus on these mysteries somehow found themselves plunging into the sea of words unfolding from those pages.

But they would not let her.

“You got what you wanted. I-I just- think it would…be better if we…destroyed it,” she mentioned in a soft tone, understanding the hold the object had taken on her younger brother. He would not let the knowledge slip past him so easily. Not when they had begun to understand it's contents at last.

Snapping back, he

11/4 / Daily / Word Wars / 276 words / Won

“Are- are they in CHARGE, here?” K retorted sarcastically, stepping forward to the desk and locking gazes with the figure in front of them. “They look like a five year old in a tux.” They responded by shifting their gaze up to meet K’s.

“You want to say that where I can hear it? Sorry, I was too busy getting your registry papers done.”

As the two locked in an icy stare, K stepped back, sighing. Was this the right decision after all?

“It’s- nothing. I just can’t believe that out of ALL the people they could’ve put up to this task, it was YOU, Dakota Banks. I- didn’t know you…made it.”

Dakota ran a hand through his messy gray hair, deciding it best to end the conversation quickly. He’d only had a select few run-ins with K-3 since their arrival months ago, though he decided that, under his leadership, he would not extend this number.

“Watch your mouth. If you want to end up in the flesh fields, you’ll keep doing what you’re doing. What happened between us in the past doesn’t matter here.” Dakota- his impromptu captain- almost sound pained, the strained words being almost forced from his mouth.

Almost.

K stared at the shorter figure, wondering why he was so keen on moving on.

It wasn’t as if the two had almost killed one another to escape the abominations. As if K hadn’t shoved Dakota back into the tangle of limbs and flesh to save his sister; old friendships didn’t matter when facing life or death, or entities of The Surreal. To enter these doors was to give away your life- or another’s.

11/5 / Flower Daily / xx words

FEATURED FLOWERS
Dandelion/Violet - faithfulness
Lucerne - life
Ox-eye - patience


He was supposed to be alone.

He had always come to the fields for the sole purpose of peaceful solitude, watching the sky, the birds and sun rays dancing across his vision. Despite the peace of a clear afternoon, watching the clouds drift across the horizon, the boy felt pensive.

He would often look up sleepily to the sky, bringing a hand to block the blinding form of the sun, using the other to trace the now-fading scars along his body. Down his arm. And finally, onto his face. He would feel each of the ridges, wincing and remembering what the same sky had done to him.

It had also ostricized the boy from all he had known. The only security he could find was in these fields, surrounded by small, purple violets.

“You know, you shouldn't crush those. They're alive too…and they, um, they…have meaning.”

An unfamiliar sound finally broke the boy's focus. He jolted up from his position, lying in the grass, and immediately let go of the small, purple flowers he had been picking to cure his boredom. Seeing that they had frightened him, the other boy looked down with an expression of genuine concern.

“O-oh-!! Ah- sorry- I- didn't mean to scare you,” they mumbled, offering a hand to help them up, seeing as they had jumped back into quite the awkward position.

The boy, who had let the other's presence register by pausing, blinking slowly, nodded and reached for his hand.

“…'s fine. Wasn't expecting anybody to come out here, ‘s all.”

The other toyed with his hair, then his hands, not knowing what to say. He had come here a number of times, but hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to the boy.

“You really hadn't seen me before?”

The shorter of the two raised an eyebrow and nodded profusely. “Nope…? This is like my spot, I guess, in a- way. I just come out here a lot. But I never saw you, even though I know this place. Every inch.”

Nodding, the other boy looked away from the shorter figure's cold, blue eyes. “Oh.”

Instead of turning away, the other seemed to be interested. “So, aren't these violets, or whatever?” He perked up suddenly and turned towards the boy. “Y- yeah! Violets. If you couldn't tell, I like flowers. Um…they're…they're a favorite of mine. Simple, really. But nice.” Was he embarrassed? He hoped the other couldn't tell.

“What do they mean, then? You said they meant something.” The blue-eyed boy smiled at him, a bit lopsided. The other noticed his scars, running deep through his face and along the right side of his body. Shaped unusually, Oliver was immediately reminded of the patterns of lightning strikes.

Ignoring his sudden worry, the other boy responded.

“Faith. Faithfulness. Y-you know, if that's what violets mean, what- what about you? Your name. That means something.”

The blue-eyed boy seemed to smile wider at that. “Oh, I'm Mike. Never really thought about what my name meant, though. You're…?”

He soon learned the boy's name was Oliver, and that the two would get along quite well. Mike thought Oliver was a little strange, but then again, so was he. His solitude and desire to be alone stemmed from the perceptions of others, too. In a way, the two fit together.

He would sneak past the suburbia and into the fields, always waiting for Oliver before exploring. He soon showed him around the expanse, every inch that Mike had grown to learn and understand throughout the years. He'd run through the meadows, laughing at Oliver, poking fun at how slow he was compared. Oliver would retort with a lighthearted insult and run up to Mike, pushing him lightly down the paths. Mike taught him the sky. The weather, the stars- when his bright eyes stared up into the endless expanse of violet, he seemed to be in another world, dreaming. They'd pick dandelions as Mike's long, bleached hair would sway in the breeze. Extending his arms, he felt as though he was flying, and in those moments he looked truly happy. Oliver found it fascinating. In response, Oliver would teach Mike of the natural world. When he spoke of the plants and animals, he seemed entranced- as if he had an understanding of them that ran deep into his bones.

-

It occurred to Oliver, finally, that Mike was out here far too much. He told him he often skipped school to come out here, that there was no use going anymore. He realized he'd stay throughout the nights, as well. Oliver was worried for him, and although Mike had always been a private individual, he was deeply scared that there was something more he wasn't telling him. He thought of the scars.

“Why'd you start coming out here?”

Mike pondered for a moment, sitting in the grass, letting his hand touch Oliver's.

His blue eyes seemed more distant than before as they reflected the sun's light.

“…I don't know. Maybe to find that connection you have. You know, when you talk to me about the world, and stuff. Sometimes it feels like there's a barrier between me and the world.”

Oliver stayed silent for a long time, hesitantly reaching his hand closer to Mike's, closing it. He understood. When he began to develop his Connection, he would see the life in everything. It was wonderful…until he knew just when it would stop. He could hardly stay around others. While Mike's dilemma must have been different, he did see his point.

Turning his head to face Mike, Oliver sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Well, you don't have to be separated. Not when you're with me. Here.”

The two may not have been understood, but in each other they found security.

-

Oliver and Mike would be off to university soon. They'd only known one another for two years, yet they'd shared things with each other that the two would have never thought would be revealed from the expanses of their minds once more.

They'd become an integral part of the other's existence. To be separated, go on their own paths…that wasn't something either of them pictured. Worry about it once the time comes, Mike thought.

Well, at least Oliver would be off.

On a hot, summer evening, a month-long drought had finally ended. Oliver had been out at the field that day and noticed, that, for the first time in over two years, Mike had not appeared at the field. Perhaps it was the coming storm, its thunderous clouds rapidly approaching the field. Perhaps he was busy.

But he had never missed their meetings.

Oliver began to search the meadow and the surrounding woodland, even venturing into the edges of suburbia and the abandoned, rural homes lining the open fields. The crackling of thunder shook the earth around Oliver as he ran, calling Mike's name.

And with it, the sky's tears began to fall.

A small silhouette rapidly approached Oliver as the sky grew dark, harsh droplets of rain suffocating the spaces around them. Their footsteps were thick, and they seemed to be calling out to Oliver- Mike! Mike, with a fear in his tone that Oliver had never once heard. Mike, with tears in his own eyes, his scars almost illuminating his body as lightning seeped through the clouds. Mike, who collapsed into Oliver's arms, rapidly speaking through tears about needing to leave, about getting Oliver out. About leaving him.

He wouldn't leave him. Not like this- he couldn't.

But the lightning began to chase Mike- it pursued him through the open field as his scars almost seemed to gush open, injuries anew. Oliver tried to follow, though Mike had moved too quickly. In the brief moments of Oliver's shock and confusion, he had let Mike slip out of his arms.

He had let him through the barrier.

-

Oliver had been able to hear the dead, not just the living, for several years now, he thought. Perhaps he always did and only noticed now when life was at its bleakest.

He was always one to hope, to believe in something better than the present, but lately he had felt so disconnected that it began to slip away from him. Now he was heading to an even bleaker location. A hospital, really? But there was an Archivist to visit, someone else to save. He was far too gone now.

He might hear the agonizing state of his visitor, trapped- between life and death- but he was not expecting Michael's. Mike.

-

Oliver recoiled after touching the delicate ox-eye flowers, placed in a vase aside Jon's bed. A vision- they'd started to appear even in broad daylight, surpassing the realm of dreams.

He had been there.

Oliver still remembered Mike, and even remembered the visions he had of his death, repeated. It had truly not occurred the day he disappeared into the sky, and Oliver had known that. But to think that he had been taken by the entity of it made him feel hopeless, as if the boy he once knew was completely gone. Much like Jon, trapped- in his own barrier.

“So you two know each other, huh?” Oliver replied, sighing as he sat in a chair, pulled from the corner of the stark room.

“I didn't realize he'd be so patient with me.”

-

eeennddd oh my!!!! :3 Oliver Banks and Michael Crew <3

-

11/6 / Roleswap / 1215 words
Jonathan Sims/Sasha James Roleswap! Minor S2 TMA spoilers (you'll be ok if you read!)

Minor TW for: disease, insects, injury, uncanny description, mild body horror
Were these mysteries ever supposed to fall into place?

Sasha stared at the pile of statements, their pages of countless horrors and numbers and categorization. It made her head spin as she removed her glasses, sighing and finally allowing herself to lean back in her chair, dropping a file from her hands. She felt as though she was slowly suffocating- metaphorically so, though statements covered the top of her desk, shrouding the spaces around her. She hadn’t left the Institute in what felt like forever, trapped in her hopeless quest for piecing these jumbled reports together, trying to find the interconnection between these depressing occurrences. Even the occasional company of Tim, Martin, or even Jon seemed alien to the Archivist.

She was sure of one thing- it didn’t seem as though clarity would result from her findings. It would only complicate the web of unsolved mysteries further. Not to mention that Jane Prentiss- looming over the Institute, ready to strike with her army of worms any day now.

Were these statements…true? And to that point, the awful knoweldge Gertrude had passed on to her? And when would she tell the others what she had learned? Sasha James couldn’t stop her search until she was sure of every last meticulous detail.

She was afraid of this newfound want, the need for this knowledge.

The Archivist was hungry.

-

A knock at the door interrupted her focused thoughts, and Sasha hardly needed to answer for the other to allow themselves entry. A dishevled Jon, with some sort of- pocket knife- no- a corkscrew- in his hand, almost slammed the door open.

“J– Jon? What’s going on?” He was hardly this urgent, and seemed to be dead serious. Not like Jon was ever the joking type.

As Jon began to reply in a jumbled mess, on cue, the awful sound of the Institute's alarms began to sound, and Jon sighed painfully as his thought was interrupted, almost shaking. One word came from the assistant’s mouth.

“Prentiss.”

The scope of the attack at hand came into full circle within seconds of Sasha, and she needed to act. Fast.

The worms had acted first- breaching every corner of the Archives themselves, wriggling past closed doors and sealed windows, staging a full-blown infestation. By this pont, Prentiss had fallen dead among her spawn but the chaos continued hours after. The alarms had began ringing in the back of the Archivist’s head as she tried to stay in focus, helping the others find a saferoom. Shouting to a distant Tim and Martin, cornered by a wall of worms, the Archivist ran through the halls, squishing the writhing creatures as she stepped, and grabbed the two, slamming the door at the thousands of insects following their movement. The remnants of their spawn continued to attempt wriggling through the small cracks, though Tim had taken care of it, smashing them under his shoe with a determined yet frightened glance, then turning to smile at the Archivist worriedly. The three took a moment of silence, almost collapsing at the end of the door. While the assistants were still trapped in the chaos, they were at least together, and had used Martin’s corkscrew to work out the insects from their limbs with varying difficulty.

Though as the Archivist turned to return the makeshift screw to its owner, Sasha realized Martin’s absence.

Martin.

She had left him.

As if he’d always been in the corner of the office, Jon finally appeared, to their surprise, driving a screw into his leg with much difficulty as he braced the rest of his body against Sasha’s desk, breathing heavily. “…M…Martin…where is Martin,” the assistant asked quickly through grimaces, still working the worm out. Finally stabbing the creature, he dropped the corkscrew with a tired sigh, ignoring the inflicted wound and glancing to Sasha worriedly.

“I can’t exactly…see what’s- going on…are we all…safe?”

Tim leaped to the door, trying to see a clear view of the hallway, hitting the glass of the door to frighten the remaining worms.

“These things-” He hit away the creatures and could see just barely through the sticky sludge. “Martin…MARTIN! I SEE HIM!” He tried calling out, though all the assistants knew the doors were soundproofed. “Ah, god- He’s outside, the…the worms are coming! MARTIN!” Tim continued to slam the glass pleadingly.

Sasha joined the effort, but reminded Tim of the proofing, to both their dismays. Finally, Jon supported himself up on the desk and limped to the door.

“H-hold on…he…doesn’t look far,” the assistant responded, a faint glow appearing in his weary eyes. He suddenly seemed focused despite his disheveled appearance.

Sasha immediately grabbed Jon’s arm back, knowing what he was suggesting. “Jon, NO, you CAN’T- you can’t, y-you’ll both-”

But it was too late. With one last glance that spoke miles, Jonathan Sims had slammed the doors shut, sprinting through the halls to find Martin before the sea of worms overtook them all.

-

“Sasha?”

A knock at the door, once again, broke the silence.

Here the Archivist stood, alone once more in her dim-lit office, searching through a series of statements. The Prentiss attack far gone, the Stranger’s Ritual was Sasha’s- and the rest of the Institute’s- priority. Her work since had reflected understanding these newfound fears, still keeping them secret from her assistants, scared as to reveal these beings of existential dread too early.

However, another point of interest had worried the Archivist. Jon had been…off…since Prentiss’s attack. Always busy, outside of the institute, visiting strange places. Speaking of wax museums and new figures and friendships that were much unlike him.

Jonathan Sims had no life outside of the Institute; it all seemed like too much change for Jon’s liking, and much too suspicious for Sasha’s.

Realizing Jon was now here before here, asking for entry, Sasha was about to react. Unlike usual, Jon let himself in letting the door open softly with a creak.

Standing.

Staring.

Sasha blinked a few times, wondering what this was- some sort of sick joke? But Jon was never the joking type.

“You didn’t even know,” he stated, dreadfully monotone. “You’re putting it together now. Aren’t you, Sasha? Maybe you should’ve been more careful. It must be nice to lose yourself in that knowledge. You lose sight of what’s really important.”

His eyes, oh God, his eyes.

They were sockets, though no blood ran from their edges. His face seemed broken. Artificial.

Sasha wanted to look away from this thing that was her friend but found that she couldn’t- It drew her in.

“I don’t blame you,” the waxwork stated. “I’m sure Jon would have done the same thing in your position.”

The Archivist’s hands balled into fists, beginning to shake slowly on the desktop. Of course something had gone wrong with Jon- he had always been off, he had always been…not…

Oh, Jon…

And to the Archivist’s horror, it continued to contort itself as it moved closer, clicking its fingers as it tapped a plastic hand against the wooden desk, still forcing its eyeless stare. Sasha hadn’t thought to check- check for Jon…for all of them…but did not attack. It stayed motionless, its plastic mouth creeping into a twisted smile. For only a moment, Sasha could see the illusion of tears.

“You are just like Gertrude Robinson.”

11/7 // Daily // 10-word stories // 332 words


“as she fell, she knew she was going to die.” - @Coco_animator 's prompt!

As she fell, she knew she was going to die.

And with her fall, all traces of the being formerly known as Elle would dissipate.

After the fall, the fragility of her human body would shatter, glass scattering through the cracks of the jagged peaks.

That fleeting figure was unaware of how much time she would suffer, weightless through the air, before she hit the rocks below.

The others had watched, standing over the cliffs as she slipped.

She reached desperately, stumbling onto the surface, calling out for her companions- her friends- to take a hand.

But as she fell, Elle knew that, through their blank stares, there was not a trace of worry in their venomous glances.

As she fell, she reflected on the brief moments that were her life, for there was no use escaping the crushing grasp of death.

As she fell, his glare trailed to her falling form, bright eyes gazing past her, as if she had already disappeared from view.

Had she always been falling? Taking this horrific journey to the ground, in which she would inevitably break apart?

When did Elle realize where her friend's true loyalties lay?

When did she realize that to fall was to be left behind, and in their collected, starved state of survival, they would not hesitate to watch the descent?

When did her body begin to break, unable to keep pace through strenuous journeys alongside the group?

When did his face, always a warm, welcoming sight, turn sour?

When did she realize this was calculated?

When did the faces of those she would- and was- dying for- become nothing more than

the judging gazes

of faceless strangers?

It was as her body broke as she realized.

Perhaps this was meant to be.

Elle was always falling,

enshrouding herself in a false life of comfort.

When she fell, isolation, that awful state between life and death, prevailed.

The weightlessness of falling is only apparent for a few, fleeting moments, after all.

GUYS I DID CABIN WARS I WROTE SEVERAL THOUSAND DW

11/19 (WHAT IS THIS GAP)- SWC abbreviations. 444 words

@Amethyst-animator contributed the lovely prompt of “silently wandering children”! my interpretation was a new Lonely domain apparently? I KNOW IT MAKES NO SENSE OKAY

The memory of connection and tradition was buried.

They piled it under the deep snow blanketing the rural region, silently wandering through the frozen earth.

“There's no use. The Tundra has blighted the land.”

Old sayings written on abandoned walls, etched into the rocky surface by a pen. Other crude sayings filled the walls.

They touched the icy face with their palms, running their fingers along the forgotten language.

Can I find what I seek?
Permanance, now, that is safety
Faceless eternity
The only cold that hurts me


If the children could read the strange symbols, it may have stopped their futile search.

There had never been anyone here. Tricks.

Along the train tracks, the two children searched for any signs of life.

There had been, once, so they thought, yet the place itself seemed devoid of anything-

Anything at all, besides the biting cold, taking lives as quick as the onsets of storms would flood the land..

-

The child now knew true isolation, for the first time in their life. The other had fallen only fourteen days ago. Cold finally breaks the body and mind, eventually.

She had no time to grieve; survival did not wait for anyone, and the need became more dire each day.

The frost had only gotten worse. Following the train tracks, she found that one hundred and sixty miles south, the route turned around in a loop, eventually drawing her back towards the old shack, with the strange words and symbols.

She began to understand some of the words. Although she hadn't seen another living soul in a year, the tallies on the walls were depressing. There were thousands of etched marks, kept by the other survivors living inside the region.

Due to her exhaustion, the young woman stayed, alone and wandering in the few miles around the shack. It was the only place to protect her from the elements, and reading the languages gave her something to hold onto.

The memories of others, happier, together.

Songs.

And she began to sing. A voice, crying out to an empty audience, trying to make sense of the harsh world around her, the circumstances of her failed existence. Painfully weaving the lyrics of those before her, crafting the juxtaposition of togetherness with her desperate wishes to leave her isolation.

Can I find what I seek?
My reflection, now, that is safety
though in my forced eternity
emptiness breaks us.


She would sing the memories etched onto the walls, onto the tracks, the memories of a world outside her reach, until her voice gave out.

Until the storm took her for its own.


Weekendly 1! OMG // xx words

Part 1 - Consistent Character Voices // xx words

“Urgh…help me procrastination squad, help me,” Oly announced dramatically while falling onto her bed with a thump.
wowie my “450” words are so eloquent
/J
OKAY HERE IS THE REAL PART DON'T WORRY GUYS I'M DOING THE WEEKLY CORRECT!!! v

"I'd been talking to the woman in the painting for some time now…

But she rarely spoke back.

I remember, almost, with- perfect clarity- like I'm going to tell you now…“ the figure shuddered, though not enough for the listener to take note of her fear, ”…when her…her voice…echoed, through the hallways of my apartment for the first time-“

”Wait. S- sorry, sorry to interrupt you. But…“ Their expression seemed to relax as the woman blinked, averting eye contact with the other as she abruptly stopped her narrative. ”…you said you'd been talking to it…before…any of this happened?“

As if natural, the woman replied, a blank look on the same face that seemed distraught moments ago.

”Y-yes?“

And now, looking slightly offended, she seemed to be devoid of any further replies. The figure sighed, glancing back at the woman, who had earlier introduced herself as Noa. ”…sorry. I'll just- listen from now on.“

”Y-yeah…“ Noa seemed quite confused, and a bit paranoid at that. ”Yes, sorry, it's just…all the questions. Makes my head spin.“

”Right.“ After a long pause, one more was asked. ”…so…the painting?“

Noa seemed to have drifted off in thought entirely…back to the night that she talked to the painting. Her.

-

”You know, I've always liked that you talked. Even if I wasn't- particularly- here.“

She jumped, turning to the painting which adorned the wall of her room. Her mother's old painting, her grandmother's before her. She had seen it move in an unnatural, almost surreal way, from time to time, but that had been an old story. She never assumed it was real- or that it had life at all.

”Ah-?“ A twisted figure began to step out of its frame, turning the edges as it kicked its way out. ”Alarmed —-are you?“ Their words seemed to echo, twisting the sentences out of order as they spoke.

Noa was speechless, bracing herself for a sudden danger, or jolt of pain, or touch from the figure—

”L-LEAVE ME ALONE. T-that was for the story. For t-them. They always did the same.“

Amused, the figure seemed to dissipate, though Noa still heard their mocking laughter through the expanse of the bedroom.

”Did you ever wonder where they had gone?“

Feeling secure enough, Noa turned to the bed, taking a blanket and, laying down, stared at the ceiling, hoping this was some sort of hallucination.

”It's not my problem anymore,“ she responded roughly, questioning what purpose she had in responding to that twisted figure.

”Hmm. I disagree."

-

Noa awoke with a start, her heart pounding as she glanced in the bedroom around her. It was only a dream. The painting was almost too mundane-looking, now, as she realized the reality of it all.

She was…safe. Never mind the open door to her room. Calling to her.

It was only a dream—

“I can show you where they've gone.”

Part 2 - Using Dialogue Effectively- 100 words

“…I've been thinking.”

The others collectively fell silent, pensive, eyes turned to Olivia.

“What if we took matters into our own hands?” She swallowed, fidgeting with her hands. “Investigated ourselves, you know.”

Hushed whispers filled the room as Olivia glanced to the floor, paused by argument and disapproval.

Bryce was the first to speak above them, formerly quiet in thought while the others argued.

"IF- we wanted to return to the island, it'd be dangerous, sure-“

As the sounds of chatter dissipated, she continued, firm.

”—- but it's our fault he got stranded. We're fully responsible… so we have to return, no matter what."

Part 3 - Foreshadowing // 330 words

“So…why'd you say your family moved out, again?”

Matthias brushed a section of thick, brown hair from his face, glancing towards Emery blankly.

“I wasn't born here, or anything,” he replied, still focused on the windswept branches and small waves in the distance, “since they moved right before I happened. Think it was some storm, you know?” Emery nodded along, noticing Matthias's absent glance. “We- or, at least what my mom said- lived down by the lake—” he pointed loosely to the shores below- “—so there was a lot of destruction on the house. It gave us an excuse to leave, anyways. Thought it'd be better to raise me in the city. Lots of different perspectives, people…I'm not saying I miss it. It's nice here, though.”

Searching for more, and perhaps a bit disappointed at his friend's ever-vague replies, Emery nodded again respectfully.

“Yeah, I get that.” It wasn't as if they were in the middle of nowhere. Emery had been on visits to the metropolis before, which was only an hour northwest of Balor. It was where Emery always imagined Matthias had moved from. "So if it was so nice, why move back here? There's literally nothing to do.“

Matthias's eyes squinted as he thought of an answer, seemingly as confused as Emery. ”It was just…important to my parents? I think? But it was strange, either way. One day they just…sprung up at the opportunity, told me it was about time we'd moved back. That there were some things they still needed to do there…to wrap up. Couldn't really figure out what, they had better jobs in the city anyways. Plus, we don't…have family here. Or a lot of family at all,“ he added at last.

”Did you used to?“

Glancing back at Emery with an unreadable expression, Matthias nodded, solemnly looking towards the waves.

”They could still be,“ he replied, fixated on the grey, thrashing waters. ”…debris drifts far apart in storms."

Part 4 - Script // 338 words


(Emery and Matthias wow!! I actually like them even though I invented them literally 2 seconds ago for part 3- I did have a dream about them once)

(Enters MATTHIAS, struggling to carry a stack of boxes handed over by OLIVIA.)

MATTHIAS: H- hey!! LIV! I can't carry this stupid stuff by myself! (He narrowly catches a box falling from the top of the stack.) THIS IS ALL YOURS?

OLIVIA: (Exiting into the house.) Look, the deal was that I could take all the trinkets I wanted in exchange for moving to this— (She motions around her, clearly feeling out of place.) —well…

MATTHIAS: …Balor?

OLIVIA: Wouldn't have expected it to be pronounced like this, with THAT spelling, right? (She turns and walks to Matthias, helping her sibling with the boxes.) Give me those- yeah, on the top.

MATTHIAS: (He sighs in thanks, gradual relief.) Thanks. (Pause.) Yeah, guess so. Everybody says, “BAYYY-LORE”, but it reads like…valor?

OLIVIA: (Muttering with a playful eyeroll.) Anyone living here's got to have a bit of that to make it. Just driving out to the house was like some ATV adventure ride- I mean, you'd know. You're the carsick one-

(Due to the sheer amount of boxes MATTHIAS carries, he walks to the wrong end of the house, running into a figure crossing the yard in progress.)

EMERY: W-whoa!!

MATTHIAS, EMERY (In-sync): Ah, sorry- I-

MATTHIAS: Oh…

EMERY: (He moves to pick up the boxes.) It's no problem.

MATTHIAS: R…right. Seriously- sorry- um- I don't know what I was doing.

EMERY: (He laughs, lightheartedly.) I was just gonna come over and ask if you needed help. It's BORING over here. And you're the new neighbors!

MATTHIAS: …Yeah…Yeah, I guess…we are.

EMERY: I live over in the blue victorian.

MATTHIAS: (He squints at the house as EMERY points. It doesn't look lived-in— more abandoned than anything.) Really—

EMERY: —I know what you're thinking. It's just- old. Needs some work.

MATTHIAS: So do the roads getting over here.

(The two laugh, but MATTHIAS glances back once more at where EMERY's house was described. In its place, foliage and trees are present. It's as if it was never there.)

-

WEEKLY 2- CREATE A CABIN

SUPERNATURAL ‘24: THE INSTITUTE

CABIN DESCRIPTION

Make your statement. Face your fears.

The Institute- brimming with mystery, horrors, and intrigue beyond human comprehensions, is waiting for you, a researcher with an inexplicable interest in the paranormal, with open arms.

However, the fourteen manifestations of Fear, existing just outside our world and feeding off our deepest terrors, lie just beyond your reach. As you unravel the mysteries before you, the entities begin to spread. Domains begin to take over the earth. Friends begin to disappear, fall victim to these Fears, one by one.

And some within the walls are hiding a dark secret.

No matter how terrifying the entities you find may be, or how much you wish you could leave your post in the Archives…

You are caught in the web.

Forever.

And you are hungry for the knowledge.

Will one of the Fears claim you before you can take them on? Will you see yourself in a valiant sacrifice to stop terrifying entities from wrecking havoc on the world as we know it? Sit in the shadows, watch as your friends fall to the terrors that lurk? Or will you become the very horror you sought to defeat?

Join us this session for a fast-paced, competitive cabin experience, featuring detailed, personalized roles and storylines and a position at the Institute’s three branches. Documenting statements, forming bonds, catching entities, and unraveling the greater mysteries of what lies beneath the Institute’s walls. Every camper is guaranteed to become affiliated with one of the Fear entities upon admission and will follow their Fear’s storyline throughout the month.

Join us in this month’s Paranormal cabin: The Magnus Institute!

AESTHETIC SET:

PARODY:

STORY IN-CABIN:

featuring some fellow friends

The air seemed to have a crushing weight in the Archives.

Rush, now dubbed the Archivist (impromptu as her position may have been, seeing that Oly, Elias’s current replacement and the most qualified of the bunch stuck in this alternative, had suggested she taken the reins), stood, surrounded by an endless supply of statements and files.

She chose to ignore the various, boxy computer screens lighting up the screen as they trailed her every move.

New hires.

“Great, even more of us are getting stuck in here,” Rush told herself, hints of sarcasm in the tired Archivist's tone. “If Elias were here, he'd–”

But before the Archivist could finish her statement, a wandering figure seemed to have found her office, knocking rapidly. Three times.

“…come in?”

It wouldn't have been Oly, she always let herself in unannounced, unless she could hear a statement being recorded from the dimly-lit office. None of the others were in today- out investigating some sort of strange entity that plagued and destroyed houses.



-

- ADDITIONAL WORDS -

Editing Work: TMA fics
FIC TW: Manipulation, mentions of insanity

Compass Rose
Featuring The Magnus Archive's MICHAEL SHELLEY and ELIAS BOUCHARD 800 words

Being forcefully called into a meeting meant one thing and one thing only, the archival assistant had grown to learn.

He must mentally prepare himself for punishment.

“You've had a series of absences- not to mention these discrepancies in your work. Loads of statements are left unsorted, unread…untouched, even. I took the liberty of seeing through each- nothing you would regularly carry out, though…what I found was quite interesting.”

The archival assistant nodded, standing still in front of Elias's desk in his office of grandeur, avoiding eye contact with the Head's gaze. It had always disturbed him, as if he was searching for more, as if he was already gazing into the depths of Michael's mind, clawing and forcing out the words the assistant feared to speak. Exhaling nervously, he composed himself, lifting his gaze towards Elias. Why not begin with a question?

“And…? Y-you found…?”

Elias, taking out a short stack of papers from his desk, put a hand atop its contents, turning the collection to face Michael. One side stuck out to reveal a flap, connecting each of the sheets. He opened them, revealing a large collection of interconnected papers, donning twisting patterns, side notes- a legend, compass…

No. He couldn't…he couldn't…find it, I hid the map well-

“It appears you've been working on something different from your usual statements.” The Head of the Institute's mouth curled into a sickening smile. Michael- could have been hallucinating, or just letting his Spiral-like tendencies take over- but as his head snapped upwards, locking gazes with the other, Elias's eyes tinted with green and gold, slightly glowing as they grew sharper. The small light emitting from his pupils made the assistant's head spin, as if he was falling into a bout of nausea or vertigo. As if he was wandering the twisted corridors once more.

“I believe there's several things I'd like you to tell me, Michael.”

Trying to break through Elias's sharp gaze, Michael's eyes darted across the office, trying to stick onto anything else besides the Head, and his watchful eye. He had to stay strong- blinking back the tears that threatened to leave his eyes, Michael instead let his heartbeat increase as he grew nervous, watching Elias fold up the map one more and smooth its edges.

“About the map.”

A hand instinctively began to twirl around a lock of Michael's long, golden hair. A nervous habit. Elias knew all of this- naturally, armed with the ceaseless knowledge of his employees- to which Michael was not an exception- he would break him.

And Michael would not make the same, reckless decisions ever again.

“Go. On.”

Again, the archival assistant's gaze was almost snapped back to his overseer's. "Don't. Be. Foolish. You're acting childish by resisting. I only want to know. Or shall I…help you with that, too?“

Michael swallowed hard as Elias began to speak, that strange, unnatural glow surrounding his pupils once more.

”Right. You can't help but feel drawn to the c-"

As if the words were being ripped from his vocal chords themselves, Michael began to speak in a panicked tone, his body giving a shudder. He felt sick, violated. If he were to have this knowledge ripped from him, he'd rather it be on his terms, and not let his mind be clawed out mercilessly by Elias's compulsion.

“I-I started working on it in late July. Just after I'd come back, y-you understand. I…just…wanted to help her…”

Elias, taking out a tape recorder, clicked a button, and Michael looked almost appalled, opening his mouth to speak, though Elias raised a hand in objection. “E-Elias-”

“-Jon isn't the only one who uses these tactics. What you are…allowing…me to know now is important, Michael. It could be much more so than you know. Your little stunt could be costly to this Institution and I must document it as such.”

Without another word, the assistant looked down, his gaze wide, though emptiness filling his colorful eyes. He was desperate, trembling…weak. He could not resist the compulsion. He could not resist the pull of the Ceaseless Watcher.

“Right. Shall we? …Statement of Michael Shelley, regarding…discrepancies in his work at The Magnus Institute…” Elias took a short pause between his calculated announcements, moving the recorder to the head of the desk and paced around its exterior, still locking gazes with Michael. He condescended the other as the Head continued, a crackling whirr from the tape creating dissonance in absence of Elias's voice. “…as well as a rather curious navigation device…statement recorded direct from subject…” Though the Head had forgotten many details Jon would regularly fill in, the words had the same rhyme and reason- the same inflections, same tones…as if he pulled these practices from the Archivist himself…and finally, Michael was truly afraid.

“I only wanted to help Helen.”

Handwritten Word Wars / 5 minutes / Prompt 5

(Transcript of my handwritten war. 225 words? I don't know how I even did that I was going crazy and half the time my handwriting was WHACK but hey it's done now and my hand hurts !!)

Maybe it was only Tim's growing nerves, or the general prospect of immediately having a conference with his boss just hours after his acceptance and first day of work at the Institute…but Elias Bouchard was calling for him.

The name echoing back through the intercom was none other than his, but repeated in that condescending tone that Tim had already decided he HATED. The mockery and pinpoint calculation in the very way Elias spoke set him on edge. They'd obviously met before in his interview- Tim didn't like him in the slightest and Elkas- well, let's just say Tim had a feeling Elias knew full well of his venomous feeling towards the Head. Not that Tim had ever verbally or physically made that known.

He opened the tall, green door carefully as Elias motioned for him to step in.

He really WAS the boss here.

“Mr. Stoker…what a pleasure to finally speak to you officially after your acceptance,” the Head replied with a smirk.

THIS guy? HE'S in charge? Thought he was the interviewer. He looks like a 5-year-old in a tux right now, with his hair slicked back an' all. All-important.

“Is there something…you wanted to say, Mr. Stoker?”

Tim froze. He realized Elias was staring, penetrating past Tim's eyes and into somewhere much deeper.

He was about to object when

You guys DEFINITELY want to read about physics and ears; well, if not, here you go anyways

919 words // essays for class

Ears
A cat's inner ear structure as compared to a human's holds differences which enables the cat to hear a wider range of frequencies than a human ear. The cochlea and basilar membranes are parts of the ear that closely control the flow and observed frequency (to the ear) of sounds. Inside of the cochlear region of the ear, there are several membranes tha have specific roles and structures in translating vibrations through the cochlear fluid. One such area is the basilar membrane, which separates incoming vibrations (sounds) into different frequencies that help activate sensors on different regions of the cochlea. This occurs due to a series of thousands of small, sensory hair cells placed on the basilar membrane (along with other sensors in the scala tympani/media/vestibule). These, along with small sensory bones on the membrane and in the cochlear fluid, amplify and differentiate between different frequencies. In cats, there are a greater number of hair cells along the basilar membrane than in a human's ear, which are then able to move back and forth and catch vibrations to react and create more sound waves than a human's ear is capable of. Because of this, a wider range of frequencies can be heard because there are more sensory hair cells to react to slight shifts in vibration. Their placement and numbers will affect the frequency in slight ways, which humans are less capable of.

Doppler Stuff
The Doppler effect occurs when the source of sound waves move in respect to an observer- there is an apparent increase/shift in frequency of the waves and observed frequency when the source approaches the observer and a decrease when it is moving away from the observer. The Doppler effect can happen, however, when the source of a sound is in motion OR when the observer of a sound is in motion, and it occurs in different ways. When the SOURCE of the sound moves towards the observer, waves are always going through a series of crests and troughs, forming its wavelength. As the source of the sound moves closer to the observer, the waves go through a series of compressions and rarefactions, where the particles are closest together and furthest apart. Because there is less distance between the observer and source as the sound becomes closer, the wavelength decreases, and the compressions and rarefactions (crests and troughs) have less distance. You will observe a shorter wavelength. If the source moves towards you, then, the shorter wavelength will result in a higher frequency because more compressions and rarefactions will be observed and occur in a smaller distance. The same can be said for when an observer is moving (relative to the source, of course.) The source will stay stationary, and it is important to note that there is no real change in the frequency of the source sound but is observed by relative position and distance. Through the same observations, when an observer moves toward the source sound, the frequency is increased in the direction of the observer's motion. The compressions and rarefactions will result in a smaller wavelength and higher frequency. The opposite occurs when the source or observer is moving past and away from one another. The compressions and rarefactions will become longer, creating a larger wavelength and a lower frequency.

daily nov. 1st: thousand word intro!

another november rolls around, and i find myself on a brand new, sparkly fresh google doc. this time, i’m a camper from apocalyptic - a word i definitely need to practice spelling, but i’m thrilled to be there nonetheless! based on the looking i’ve done so far, it seems fantastic and i’m hyped to see the storyline and meet my cabinmates. apocalyptic marks my 12th session, a complete four years (with only one repeat cabin!) - years leading, co-leading, camping, of making friends, improving my writing, and developing myself as a person. and yet, i get the feeling i still haven’t seen it all - so here i am, back :) something interesting though, is that in those four years of my consecutive camp experience, i have never, not even once, made my attempt at the one thousand word intro. maybe it was the four digit number intimidating me, or the absolute horror i felt at having to find enough things about myself to fill the space, but it’s never too late to try anything - so, here goes nothing.
hey there <3 you might know me, you might not - i’m veni, aka juli, otherwise known as dash vanilla mocha bear, dash (little fun fact: this is my second main account! to be fair, the first one lasted for roughly three weeks during the fateful december of… 2020? it is, in fact, undeleted and has a user even more atrocious than this; known only to a select few. i think i googled “aesthetic words” when crafting my current username, without an ounce of consideration to relations between words. oh, well) something i’ve realized recently, thanks to a class at school i absolutely despise, is that i’m not the best when it comes to identifying myself - no, i’m not quite sure how my friends percept me, and on a scale of “extremely disagree” to “extremely agree” i would rather go back to eighth grade pickleball. it’s probably something to do with looking too deeply and overthinking to the point of stress and identity crisis (a conversation for an entirely different time) - however, all that makes me a good rambler, so hooray? starting with what i’d consider the largest aspect of my identity: i’m a general enthusiast of the arts, whether that be painting, music, or of course, writing.
art - the drawing aspect of it, has always been a huge part of my life. just looking anywhere could prove that, for example my profile here, instagram page, or even my bedroom walls. i’ve been fiddling with pencils and crayons since i was a kid, but only decided to mess around with digital art and dedicate myself to improving more towards middle school. i’m pretty proud of how far i’ve come, i’m super close to finishing my first sketchbook! something i really want to get the hang of is painting, i love the vibrancy of it :eyes;
music has also been equally big. i’ve been a pianist since around six, improving slowly but surely. i started playing violin in school in third grade (after rejecting cello because i couldn’t find a way to transport it, sadly) and have consistently stayed in school orchestra since then! there’s a very special group of orchestra kids in my grade i’ve been with for nearly three years, and together we’ve tackled a variety of competitions and field trips. shoutout to my orchestra bestie for keeping me sane by the way, i’m not sure how well off i’d be without her. and then, of course, writing. i’m doing it right now, obviously, but falling in love with writing was really a whole journey. without swc, i don’t think it ever would have happened - little me always viewed writing as work and not fun, but one session managed to change that view :) having a community really makes a difference, and now i’m thriving with my funky short stories.
i used to be a dancer. my first dance lesson was at three years old, before i even spawned, and i did things like ballet, tap, jazz, you know. i had a cutesy little nutcracker performance on my fourth birthday, in which i was a rat - fun times!! after that, i kept up with the lessons up until about eight, where i lost interest for a while. i was just starting to gain interest again maybe a year later, and would have jumped into class again if it weren’t for covid - well, i did get to participate in a parking lot class season, which was… interesting. and then i moved on to dance through general middle school classes, which weren’t very helpful. right now, i’m wishing my dance career were a little more consistent, and maybe i could be somewhere in life. it really is an art form, and i enjoy the feeling of freeness through movement - for now, i’m confined to my bedroom floor :P
i’m a proud dog mom - my child has been with me since i was eight, and we’ve been through a lot. he’s a coton de tulear/shih tzu, named teddy, and he’s very dear to me. he certainly takes after his name, being a good snuggle buddy and companion. his adoption anniversary is actually coming up this month!
it’s at this point that i’m running out of obvious topics to yap about, so here’s to where i am instead of really who. i reside on the east coast, so the west coast best coast stuff is nonsense here <3 really, what beats new york? (i say as i’ve been there twice in recent memory and consistently complain about it) i am a freshman in highschool, and it’s been a really interesting and different environment. for starters, it’s a lot more laid back currently, which i appreciate. middle school lied to me, most of the teachers are in fact fun. there’s football games, we’re free to do whatever during lunch, and overall less of a dictatorship! i’m hoping to get involved in the theater program this year through tech, which i’m really hyped for. i haven’t done crew since seventh grade and regret missing out last year. speaking of regret, it seems to be a really big theme in my life, unfortunately - i should’ve kept dancing, i should’ve joined the clubs i wanted to earlier this year instead of freaking out, i should’ve done my homework before it piled up, that sort of stuff. i’ll figure everything out eventually, right? (i still have time, i say to myself, but i scream every time i realize how fast the years are slipping)
and would you look at that, i’ve somehow hit the thousand words! i don’t think that was nearly as hard as i’d expected, since i still have a whole list of topics i could yap around. maybe later. i’m suspecting a big thing to do with how surprisingly simple this was was the pent-up thoughts through not writing as much between sessions. all it took was massively going into detail over simple subjects. if you really did put yourself through all that, thank you - pleasure to meet you <3

Name: Ava
Date: November 2nd
Word count: 251/250
Topic: Write a letter to your future self
Cabin: Bangsian

.

Dear Ava,
It's the end of the November 2024 SWC session if you're reading this. Please please please tell me you're still ok with him, and that he's still ok with you, and that you're ok with them all. Because you can be ok. You know you can be ok.

No matter what you say or what you do (in the way others perceive it), you know what you actually mean. You'll find someone special one day who will understand exactly what you mean. I hope it's still TS. If it's not, I know it will hurt, but you have to know that your life is a book. Don't let a chapter destroy the entire story. Plus, LORE! You just get cool new backstories every time another traumatic experience occurs. Isn't that so cool?

Now, listen to this part closely. Your exams have probably finished by now, and I know you tried your hardest to make your dad happy- but please know that even if you didn't, it's ok. Humans only get one life- no matter how much mythology you follow, you know that's true. Why would you waste it all pouring over books when there are so many wonders to life? Trees, Books, Sunshine, Love, Friendship, Grass, The Sky, The smell of Rain, The Birds, The Animals, The Flowers. You have so much to enjoy. Please don't destroy yourself over something that does not define you.

Only you define yourself.

Love you, please remember your goals,
Your past self.

Go back home

back to main post

Weekly #1

Part 1: Consistent Character Voices

“Guys, let's go back. We shouldn't be here.” Lacy said as they entered into the abandoned pizzaplex. It was a venture that shut down because of a massacre that occurred that involved one of the venture's owner and animatronics.

“We're almost done, Lacy. We just need take another look around here and everything will be fine!” Michael answered, his arms folded on his head like someone who is experiencing something that they normally do on a daily basis.

“Guys, check this out! It seems like it was from a broken animatronic. I don't know what that is, but I'm keeping it for research back when we get back to the lab! There's just so much to uncover here!” Mark exclaimed. He was holding a tiny twisted piece of metal Lacy couldn't think about any basic use for it. But Mark will figure it out, his father used to work as a mechanic in the pizzaplex after all.

“Are you guys done? I've got loads of other game achievements I have yet to complete in my newest video game you know!” Ethan grumbled, his back was still leaning against the wall of the pizzaplex from 2 hours since they came here. “Oh, c'mon! Theses noobs can never play the game right! I hate stupid teammates…”

Lacy, afraid and having nothing to do, approached Ethan cautiously, like he was a bomb about to detonate, “Uh… Ethan? Do you mind telling me what you're doing-”

“No. Let me be. I didn't even wanna come here in the first place.”
“Please, I don't want to be here too! But Michael said I have to if I wanna find out what happened to my brother-”
“Oh? Then it's none of my business.”
“Ethan! Be nice to your cousin.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, avoiding Lacy's confused gaze as he turned his attention to Mark.

“Oh yeah? What's smarty pants doing here anyway? Digging around in the dumps? And why must he drag me down to the slums like this? I've no reason to be here. I'm not like you guys.”

Lacy's fingers were trembling, but Ethan continued to talk, and what Lacy secretly wanted to avoid in her mind had become true.

“You pathetic wimps who can't move on because of a lost relative. How weak. At least my older brother was somewhat nice, but I was glad his annoying presence is out of my life anyway.”
“Ethan, p-please stop…”
“YOU FOUL LITTLE-”

“Hey guys, what're y'all up to? We're finally done here, and we need to get out of here before- Wait, Mark what are you doing?”

Michael was perplexed by the scenario: his younger sister was paralyzed with fear in her eyes, making the tears flow out on her delicate face. His best friend was grabbing his cousin by the collar and was holding a wrench, on the verge of beating Ethan up and bursting with rage. But Ethan's face was somewhat monotone, as if he forgot how to express his emotions.

“Let's go. I don't know what happened here, but I won't settle it now. Besides, we should leave before the security guards show up. Follow me, I'll keep watch on you all as you leave, okay?”

Everyone nodded, Ethan just barely tilt his head downwards by an inch and never raised his head. One by one, they filed out of the pizzaplex to continue the investigation of the massacre. But something was in the shadows spying them, its silver eyes pierced the night.

581 words

Part 2: Using Dialogue Effectively

“You kept my secret, didn't you?”

Ava's abrupt whisper in the silence was like a surprise to William.

“S-Secret?” William stuttered; the moment of tonight's consequences had dawned upon him.

“Ava, to be honest-”
“C'mon! You're my brother! I trusted you with it.”

Ava silenced William's protests. The moment has come.

“Ambush the siren in 3…”
“William, what's happening?” Ava's eyes widened in horror.
“Attack!”

Countless fishermen emerged behind them, knocking Ava to the ground to tie her, with difficulty she cried, “William, help!”

But William held a crossbow in his arms, eyes sparkling in the starlight.

“Ava, I'm sorry.”

100 words (exactly)

Part 3: Foreshadowing

“Hey, Ivan. I don't like this…” Sam said, his voice quivering as they entered the tunnel. It was dark and damp, and there's some weird feeling that Sam felt like he was being watched.

“It's okay, stay by me.” Ivan replied, suddenly feeling the weight heaving down on his arm. Ivan sighed, feeling the warmth of Sam right by him. It made him calm, and somewhat unafraid despite the huge weight upon him was restricting his mobility.

Together, they ventured down the tunnel. Sam was still clutching Ivan's arm, as though it was the only support to Sam, to help strengthen him like how a close friend would bring love to the other.

“A-Ah…”

Ivan's moan of pain brought Sam to his conscience, he was gripping Ivan's arm too hard.

“Oh! Ivan, I'm so sorry! I-”
“Wait.”

Sam stopped speaking. The air fell silent, as though it was allowing time for Ivan to prepare what he was about to say next.

“Please don't let go. Stay with me.”

Sam could not stop staring into Ivan's eyes. Apparently the tunnel seem to do the same, making Sam's vision just entirely focused on the man in front of him.

“Let's go.”
“But what about your arm? Aren't you hurt?”

Ivan's response made Sam flustered temporarily.

“It's fine. I feel safe with you by my side, only you can give me that warmth and safety.”

It was weird. It was still the same tunnel, but somehow it felt less scary. There were still patches of black on the walls, but Sam felt as though they were just rainwater staining the cement. And the eerie water drops in the tunnel were just dropping to the beat to Sam's heartbeat. He was fine because he has someone to protect him. He was fine because he has someone who cares for him. But Ivan suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“Ivan? What's wrong?”
“We aren't alone. Be careful, Sam. I don't want anything to happen to you.”

Ivan held Sam closer to him, Sam could feel Ivan's strong and rapid heartbeat drumming against his ears.

Suddenly, the dark stains on the cement walls of the tunnel started to form shapes, making human figures as they materialize as humans. Sam yelped, but gripped Ivan's arm hard as he hid behind with Ivan's body from the creatures.

“Who are you? You are not welcome here. Leave at once now.”

Ivan stood his guard and said, “No. The cure for Sam's chronic disease is right here. If it's cured, he will be happy.” Sam suddenly felt he had Ivan's gaze on him, “And if he's happy, I'll be happy too.”

Sam felt as though a weight was lifted from him. Was the person he really cared for just right in front of him?

The creatures all laughed, “Well, foolish human. Since your desire of love carried you and your boyfriend all the way here? There's no way we're not letting you two leave!”

The creatures retreated into the shadows, leaving cackling laughter echoing throughout the tunnel.

“Ivan, what did they mean by that? What are we going to do?”
“It doesn't matter. Go and run, don't worry about me. I'll find a way to get that medicine and cure you. Go!”
“But, Ivan. Why would you do this all for me? Why can't you just let me go? Like everyone else did?”

Ivan turned to face Sam, and looked at him in the eyes. Sam never felt so exposed by looking into the eyes of someone else.

"Because unlike the people who reject you, I love you. So go, and be safe. I'll be with you soon."

And suddenly, in the flash of a dark shadow, Ivan was gone. Sam was somehow outside of the tunnel, still taking in what Ivan has said, and what he had just done to save Sam, which will amount a lot of sacrifices.

650 words

Part 4: Script

Rocky: Today's gonna be a tough day, isn't it partner?

Freckle: Um, Rocky… We're just cousins, we don't have to call each other like that when out on these missions…

Rocky: Oh, relax. Dear cousin, we'll be entirely fine! car engine screeches to a stop And we're here!

Freckle: still nervous No, I'm not supposed to be here and stuff. Doing all this is a bit… unholy, isn't it?

Rocky: Hush, little fella. The spirits at night are wide awake as they listen to every step and movement we make. Hence, we should really keep going before anyone notices we're here. Or we would be pounded into a pulp! edges closer to Freckle, his face slightly insane, like usual Bet you don't want that to happen right?

Gunshots heard right behind them

Freckle: R-Rocky?

Rocky: We should get our weapons, we aren't alone. Our enemies are probably lurking by in the bushes, so it's better to be armed. Or else we will probably be shot, or backstabbed, and we will die slowly, with Death's rotting hands slowly seeking for our souls, and grasp it in its strong clutches to prevent it from escaping-

Freckle: somewhat scared about his cousin's crazy talk, but when has his cousin not been crazy? We should get going.

Rocky: Indeed, let's just go grab the booze for Miss May and skedaddle out of here-

A cloth clamped Rocky's mouth as he struggled to wrestle free from his attacker's strong grip

Freckle: Rocky! Wait, lemme help you- But no… this is not what a Catholic should do-

Rocky: speaking through the cloth, his voice strained Hey, big guy. Don't you want to kill me? You should ask quick, or else something would distract me.

Freckle: Rocky, what are you saying? Stay still! I need to get you out! turns to the attacker, sounding slightly terrified Hey, you! You're alone right? I don't see any of your comrades here to save you. Best to call them out now, or else I'll start shooting!

Rocky: didn't feel the grip slackened on him as his attacker ran away Do it, Freckle. Let me out of this.

A gunshot echoed in the forest

Freckle: panting Rocky, are you okay?

Rocky: frustrated Nice job, little cousin.

Freckle: What did you mean? I just saved your life-

Rocky: outraged THE PROBLEM IS YOU SAVED MY LIFE!

Freckle: shocked by Rocky's outburst, it wasn't like him Rocky, would you mind telling me what's wrong? I can help-

Rocky: No. You can't help me, no one can. Everyone thinks I'm annoying and they can't fix whatever problems I have. Even you, Freckle. That mistake you did made my life like this, you know. That's why you can't help me, everyone has treated me terribly and when they want to ask for compensation, there's no way I'm letting them know anything about me. he stood up, as if nothing just happened before the ambush Now let's get that booze and go. Miss May would be wondering what took us so long.

Freckle: absorbing the fact his cousin has been holding in for so long Okay, let's go.

502 words

1833 words in total

☆Jaz's writing thread☆
Link: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/787280/?page=1#post-8212593

SILK'S SWC WRITING - NOV. 2024

DAILIES

01.11.2024
forums were down

03.11.2024
“we're slowly getting back into it ww”
taken from @oishiiocha__'s profile
344 words

It's been a long time. I'm not sure if I still know how to do this. Am I too old to start again? Will my muscles still move the same way they once did? Can my brain still think the way it once did? At the least, I can still try.

I haven't taken my violin out of its case in years. After so long, it feels almost wrong to call it mine, but mine it is. It looks as pristine as it was when I last used it. No surprise there. But the sound—eugh. No surprise there, either. It takes a while to tune it, but none of the strings snap. I think I would just quit if I snapped a string. After I rosin my bow, I lift the instrument up to my shoulder. It doesn't feel comfortable anymore. I play a scale. D major. I'm out of tune. At least I can still hear that. I try again.

There are boxes and boxes of tangled yarn. Or, more accurately, there were. I've untangled most of them by now. I want to sort them by thickness or material or texture, but more than that, I want to make something. They always say it about riding a bike, but I think it's true for knitting, too. Once you learn, you can't forget. I have to look up how to cast on, and it still feels awkward at first, but I settle back into a rhythm quickly. I haven't forgotten at all.

The weapon feels heavy and wrong in my hand. Because it's cheap, I tell myself. The weapon I once used has mysteriously disappeared, leaving me to purchase a new one. I don't like the new one. Still, I settle into en garde position. My knees ache and complain, but they've been doing that for a long time. The first thing I notice after beginning to move around is that I've gotten slow. Unsteady. No longer as in control as I used to be. I'll relearn control, patience, all of those things.

11.11.2024
letter b omitted
highkey i forgot how bad my SWC writing always is TwT
294 words

Steps in the hallway mean someone is coming. They'll see me.
I know my options—hide, and risk worse if I'm found, or expose myself now and hope I can come up with an excuse.
Slow, heavy clunks mean it's Gaffe. Gaffe will know if something is out of place, and I don't have time to return everything to its place. Second option it is.
I shuffle around the papers on the desk, hoping it'll hide the fact that I know what I'm looking for. As the door swings open, I act in my closest imitation of a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar, wide-eyed in an oops-I'm-sorry-what-do-I-do expression.
I look towards the door, and, yep, there's Gaffe, eyeing me critically. “What are you doing in here?” she demands.
“I'm sorry!” I squeak. “I—I realized I made a—I made a mistake on the exam—I wanted to get my paper and fix it—”
Gaffe makes a tsk sound. “Wrong. How's this: you, as a stupid young person with stupid revolutionary ideas, decided that I, as the district overseer, would possess some documents of interest that might help your stupid revolutionary cause. More accurate, don't you think?”
I sigh and duck my head. No use denying it.
“You shouldn't lie,” she says severely. “You're horrendous at it.”
She pauses.
“You're lucky I'm not. For future reference, the exam papers are sent to Central as soon as they're all in. They're long gone now. Go on now.”
My head snaps up. “What?”
"You heard me. Stop harassing your superiors. I told you, I'm a good liar, and I can report you to Central if I must. This conversation did not happen."
I just nod mutely and retreat out of the office.

13.11.2024
song this is based on—There Will Be Blood
idk man the overuse of italics and exclamation points are kinda supposed to give it the air of. like you know when you're both mocking yourself and consciously and intentionally lying to yourself? idk if i accomplished that but whatever
276 words

I'll put the metaphorical gun to your head, if you put that literal one to mine.
We both know neither of us are brave enough to pull that trigger. But I'm better at telling myself that.
Such a stupid little game we play. If I were smarter, you'd be bound to win. Unfortunately for you, I'm not!
I'm stupid enough to think two unstable people can stabilize each other.
I'm stupid enough to think I can vomit up my feelings and walk away, leaving them stinking on the floor!
You're only in control because I allow it. I don't need you! You're the one who needs me!
I'm stupid enough to think I can do anything. I'm invincible! I could just as easily leave you behind, if I wanted to! Who else would you have, then? Who else could you hurt, without them getting hurt? You've tried before! It hasn't worked out well for you, has it?
Oh, surely we both know we might be doomed. We couldn't possibly last together! At some point, it all explodes. At some point, someone is stupid enough to make it happen. So who's it going to be? Do it, I dare you!
See, look at the two of us! War criminal, terrorist, liar, hypocrite, horrible BLEEPing person!
See, the difference is that I'm better at hiding it!
Such a stupid little game we play. You're going to hurt me? Leave me dying, in pain, bleeding out on the floor?
No, you won't.
Coward.
Cowards, the both of us.
You warned me, didn't you?
I'm stupid enough to love you anyway. And—lucky me—you don't control who you love!


WEEKLIES

Nov 3 || 551 words

This is inspired by the quote “Trying to figure out music and illusion…
” on @-Choi-Sooeun- 's wiwo

The eyes. It was the eyes that were always there, staring through plaster and hardwood, invasive and prying. Green and brown and blue and covering the entire layout of his wall.
Ismael blinked. They disappeared.
So they were just eyes, after all, and they couldn’t do anything to hurt him—at least, not that he thought–and he had something to practice, and no time to get away with being distracted by what wasn’t really there. He didn’t believe in it, when it was gone, only when it was right in front of him, and the only thing right in front of him now was his violin. Ismael didn’t go believing things too easily.
But the violin–oh yes, the violin–and his concert, which was two weeks from today and he was not prepared for. He didn’t know why, but every night for the past month he kept waking up in his sleep from the most terrible nightmares, and when he woke up he couldn’t bring himself to focus on his music. The music conservatory had been hard, but he’d succeeded, at least for the first two years of it, and managed to earn himself first chair violin by his Junior year. That was unheard of. If he had gotten there, it shouldn’t have been hard to keep it.
He ran through his tuning sequence–A, D, G, E. The notes sounded grating. He adjusted his bow. A. There we go. Deep breath as he looked at his music.
His song started with a deep, haunting note. He closed his eyes. It didn’t sound right. He squinted at his music. There, a big, black eyeball staring right up at him.
It blinked.
“I know you’re not there!” He yelled.
The eyes came back all around the wall, big and small and red and white and teary eyed and dry. Every sort of eye.
Then the eye on the page did something he had never seen before: it grew a mouth. It was an ugly mouth, with peeling lips and rotting teeth, but it was a mouth all the same.
“You believe what you see?” It chuckled.
“No,” he shuddered.
“Stupid stupid stupid. Why don’t you play for us? You never play anymore.”
“I do play. Go away, please.”
“Oh, no, you never do. What do you think is going to happen at the show? You think they’re gonna like you?” The mouth laughed. “They never wanted you there. They told me. They think you’re crazzyy.”
“Please stop.”
“You’re always talking to yourself.”
Ismael blinked and tried to stare past the eye and see his music. He put his violin back to his chin and managed a measure before the eye interrupted him again.
“No no no! It sounds too flat!”
Ismael reached up to tune again.
“You know they wasted that instrument on you. They meant it to played by someone good.”
“They picked me first chair,” Ismael said through gritted teeth.
“I bet they regret that now.”
“Stop.”
Ismael started his tuning sequence again. Stretched his fingers across the strings and felt it smush against something.
“Ow!”
Ismael looked down at his violin with disgust. Right his finger had been a there was a smushed eyeball staring back at him.
“Oh, now they’re really gonna hate you.”
Ismael threw his violin against the wall.

daily 11/2 - 250 words

please note i submitted this on time and it was added but then i changed the post to be my table of contents so i'm reposting it here :)

Hi future Maia <33
It's the second day of SWC!! I'm speed running this because I forgot how SWC works, but hopefully it'll still be fun to read! Right now, I'm lowkey stressed because of all the stuff I have to do, but I have like ten pounds of candy from Halloween so it's okay haha.
How's it going? How was your orchestra concert? Did you end up doing run crew for the play? (please send the email :pray:) Tomorrow I'm going to my mom's concert which will be fun I hope! They're playing Mahler though so it might be boring :(( In school my Algebra teacher is my biggest opp, hopefully you'll be doing better in a few weeks!
How did poetry go? Did the storyline work out? I hope so because it could be cool if well executed. Did you win? hehe (Please help I'm only at 139 words)
How did you do on your goals for the month? We just got this new band piece I'm so cooked for, did it get better? I hope movement three is good…
I hope Scratch doesn't let us down this session :sob: why does it always break during SWC :(
Are you going to see family during Thanksgiving? I hope so, it would be really fun. Right now my football team is doing freaky well, did they finally start losing? (Please don't make me go to anymore games ack)
Guys it's 7:57 help
The time change is tomorrow! Yaysies
Current Maia

Em's Table of Contents!
-Dailies-
(Completed on time)
Nov 1. 1,000 word intro (daily #1)
Nov 2. Letter to Future Self (private)
Nov 4. Word Wars! (see below)
Nov 9. Cabin Wars!

-Weeklies-
1. Weekly #1 (late)
2.
3.
4.

-Word Wars-
1. Word Wars #1

-Storyline Activities-
1. Week 1 #2
2. Week 2 #6

-Writing Competition Entry-
All In a Day's Adventures

Claim for weekly part one

daily!! 310 words, inspired by “state of otherness” from @-alternity’s profile

(i wrote this in like five minutes lol. i don’t really like it)

The Holmes family was never normal. From a young age, Mycroft noticed the way people looked at him and his siblings and picked up on their views of him and the people he loved. It made him angry. He even caught his parents, sometimes, when they thought their children weren’t paying attention (even though the always were) making the same expressions at them that everyone else did. The faces that said “you’re not normal”, “you don’t belong here”, “what even are you?” It never stung when strangers and outsiders thought these things about Mycroft or his siblings, but it hurt deeply coming from their parents. Mycroft knew he could do nothing about it, that they couldn’t control it, but that just made it hurt worse.

The Holmes family was never normal. But normal wasn’t fun, so who cared? Sherlock repeated that to himself over and over during his teenage years, begging himself to, just this once, actually believe it to be true. He put on a facade, and he was very good at making people believe it. Everyone thought Sherlock didn’t care about his reputation. Some people loved him for it, others hated him. But none of the, spoke to him. So as much as Sherlock wanted to be confident in himself and not care what others thought of him, he also desperately wanted friends. For many people, it’s a choice of one or the other, but for Sherlock both constantly eluded him. Sherlock had everything figured out. Just not himself.

Sherlock and Mycroft’s lives were shaped by these beliefs. Both boys grew up to deliberately shape their reputations to become someone everyone admired but also hated, including themselves.

The Holmes family was never normal. But Eurus didn’t believe in normal. Eurus, the planet’s only truly free person, didn’t believe in freedom. And yet she brought freedom to her brothers.

Weekly part 2:
“Finally!” exclaimed Moth, but suddenly remembered to talk politely “G'day, miss Lizabeth, I have something important to discuss.”
“Huh?” Lizabeth stopped. “What is it, Mo?”
Moth started: “Marilyn told me that Kelly told her that she overheard…”
“Get to the point!” snapped Lizabeth, not ready for another 2-hour-long story. “I have things to do. Dreamland can't stop because you need to describe the sandwiches everyone ate when you heard the news.”
“Sorry, miss”
“So?”
“Rocky doesn't want to go to this school anymore”
“Why not?”
Instead of answering, Moth transformed into a moth and flew to ask Rocky.

November 1st - 1K Intro + 89 Regular Intro
(1k intro below)

Hey there everyone! I’m Skylar (she/her), and I’m a 16-year-old British-Chinese sixth former! I’ve started Year 12/Lower Sixth, and I take Biology, Chemistry, Maths, and Physics. I have interests in multiple things, which will be explained over the course of this 1k get-to-know-me intro!

I love listening to alt pop, synth/electro-pop, pop-rock, and choral covers of pop music. My current favourite artists are Coldplay, Owl City, and Taylor Swift! My favourite songs at the moment are Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift, Something Just Like This by Coldplay & The Chainsmokers, Fireflies by Owl City, and Superheroes by The Script! If you want to gauge my general vibe, 1989 and Red are my favourite albums by Taylor Swift, Ocean Eyes is my favourite album by Owl City, and I don’t really have a favourite Coldplay album haha~
In addition to listening to music, I also make a lot of it myself! I play both piano and violin, and I sing in my school choir. I sing second soprano and alto in choir, depending on how the parts are split (SSA, I sing second, SATB, I sing alto.) I don’t have any favourite songs I like to play, but in my free time I like to spend some time making covers of songs with a ton of harmonies. I also do this thing where if I’m singing along to a song, I’ll somehow start making a harmony to it, and it sounds really weird if you’re not hearing both at the same time.

I also love writing! While somehow when I start SWC all my motivation just… dumps itself out of the window, I do write a lot. My writing is normally focused in the world of Sunshine Bay, but often I’ll also write fanfiction or other pieces and snippets of different universes. My favourite thing to do when writing is definitely worldbuilding, as I love creating the world my characters live in. One of my longest-running projects has been Sunshine Bay, something I’ve been doing in collaboration with Hope (euphoriafall) and has generally been quite fun to play around with, especially naming the metro stations and laying out the roads. My favourite genres to write in are realistic fiction and science fiction!

I also love to create art! I use procreate and I tend to draw humans.

Some shows I have watched (and have opinions on) include Law and Order: Special Victims Unit (Season 6, Season 8 - Season 11), Chicago Med (Season 1 - Season 3), Brooklyn Nine-Nine (all seasons), and The Big Bang Theory (all seasons). Feel free to ask me about any of these shows, I’d love to talk about them!

As for books, I haven’t really read much this year, but a stand-out book for me has been Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao. I absolutely loved that book and it was such an amazing meld of science fiction and traditional chinese culture and customs. I do read a lot of fanfiction though, so there is that…

Academically, I’m taking biology, chemistry, maths, and physics, and I’m considering doing a career in healthcare or civil engineering. My favourite subject at the moment would definitely be physics, as it’s the one I’m enjoying the most and looking forward to all the time. My least favourite subject at the moment would probably be biology, as it’s a lot of essay writing for a science, but the things I’m learning are definitely interesting.

Other interests in the realm of academia involve Model United Nations, something I am overly passionate about as I have a significant interest in politics and current affairs (but not strong enough to choose them for A-Level.) I’ve attended several conferences in the past, and it’s always a great source of fun and chaos for me.

I have an interest in transportation infrastructure, specifically the London Underground and British train system. I love learning the intricacies of this system and I am firmly of the opinion that the London Underground and British train system is something that needs to be appreciated, even if it doesn’t always run on time (which is most of the time.) Transport planning is something I love to do in worldbuilding, and I may or may not have played Mini Metro too many times.

I also have an interest in aviation in general. I don't have any specific favourite planes, as I think they all have their merits. Airport documentaries are among my favourites, such as Heathrow: Britain’s Busiest Airport. I find it so interesting to delve into the behind-the-scenes of how an airport works, and it never fails to captivate me. Regardless of this, I am not considering a future in the aviation industry and would much prefer healthcare or urban planning, ahah~

As a Brit, I must also, obligatorily, state my opinion on tea. First, DO NOT MICROWAVE OR BOIL YOUR WATER ON THE STOVE, USE A KETTLE. Kettles exist for a reason, and that singular reason? Tea. Secondly, put the teabag in and pour hot water into the mug. Tea must be made in a mug. And the water has to be somewhere between freshly boiled and still-too-hot-to-drink. Leave the teabag to sit in there for a good five minutes, before fishing it out with a spoon. Add milk, unless you have herbal tea, in which case, DON’T ADD MILK! DO NOT! ADD! MILK! TO HERBAL TEA! As you may have gathered from this, I am a milk second person. Milk first is utterly disgusting, because you make some weird water-milk mix. Although, isn’t that what tea is? Infused water with milk?

Ah well, now that I’ve stated my opinion on tea, I have to state my opinion on other popular British arguments. Firstly, scone rhymes with gone, not cone. You’re insane if you think it rhymes with cone. (I am looking at you, Americans. You chose the wrong pronunciation.) Secondly, yes, the Midlands do, in fact, exist. Birmingham exists for a reason, people. And the north-south divide starts at the top border of Wales. And goes up at an angle.

Well, I seemed to have waffled my way to 1,030 words, so I’m just gonna… go.

November 2nd - Letter to my future self - 403
Hey,

I suppose I’m writing this letter to the future me, and I’d like you to go back and open this letter and see what you’ve done this session, and the hopes of the future.

Firstly, congratulations on the starting of a new “I keep this A4 Ringbinded Notebook Under My Pillow” - here’s to two more years of writing chaos! I can’t wait to see what you’ve filled it up with at the end of the month - of course, I’m not expecting that you finish the whole notebook in the month, ahaha.

Secondly, as of today, you’ve successfully passed waltz/toe/three jump in figure skating! Yay, you can jump now! Just don’t be scared, but I know salchow can really hurt, ahaha.

This month, I’m hoping you slow down and really take the time to enjoy sixth form. It’s not going to last, and you don’t need to stress yourself out in search of the best results. It is going to be the best two years of your life, though, and you’ve met so many friends already.

As for my SWC goals, I’m hoping that at the end of the month that you’ve done at least 10 of the dailies, and improved your writing. I mean, not to say that it was always bad, I think it got quite good over the past two months out of sheer procrastination, but you could always do better. In this, I’d really like to see if you can flesh out character personalities a lot more, rather than writing them flat or always at the extremes. I know that yesterday, you created Rachel Torres - please continue writing about her and I would love to see how you’ve taken her story in becoming a social worker for children.

Another SWC goal I have is that you complete one weekly. Weeklies can seem to be a bit of a slog sometimes, but if you complete just one, I’ll be really happy. Of course, schoolwork permitting. You should always focus on your grades, especially in Biology and Maths.

Finally, I hope you can enter the writing competition. I’m not sure what you’re going to enter, but just enter something! Anything. Yes, even that idea you didn’t want to write for EPQ because you were dead-set on doing an artefact. And yes, by the end of this, you’re about two weeks closer to dropping that thing. From your life.

Regards,