SWC ♕ i. daily 1 - 1k Intro - 1,358 words-

Hello there! My name is Claya and I am about to ramble about myself so please buckle in and get ready for the ride!
I am a 56bajillion year old teenager and have many hobbies. I love writing (obviously,) musical theater, singing, playing ukulele/piano, crocheting, and hugging my dogs. My biggest and favorite hobbies being writing and theater. Let’s start with writing. I have been writing for as long as I can remember, aka, since I was eight/nine-ish (I have a horrible memory.) I started my writing journey by creating all these worlds and ideas in my head, and that eventually grew to my fantasy world I have today. I write in a fantasy world called, Eadolyth, where there are a bunch of cities, creatures, and lots of lore. I have been working on this world for years and I will forever be updating it. All of my stories take place in Eadolyth. Speaking more about writing, I just finished the first draft of my first full novel on October 31st! It is 77k+ words and I am extremely excited that I have made it this far. As a kid I had a very “realistic” world view and figured I would never be able to do something big like that, so seeing how far I have come is insane. If anyone had told me at the beginning of this year that I would write 77k+ words this year, I would not have believed you. It has been such a huge blessing getting here, but my journey is far from over!
Now onto my other biggest hobby, musical theater! This has much more personal information so I’m going to try and ramble the best I can without sharing too much. I have been doing theater since I was five years old and have been on the stage ever since. I have done eight school/church productions, and I have done seven semi-professional productions with my community theater just in the past four years. I am currently in my local theater’s production of Little Mermaid, where I am assistant directing and playing Ursula. Some of my other favorite roles I have played is Lily in Secret Garden (Spring Version), Katherine in Newsies, and the Maid in Mary Poppins. Theater is a huge part of my life that I will forever fuel. Some of my favorite musicals are Little Women, Secret Garden, EPIC, and Hadestown. I have many dream roles but my biggest ones are Jo or Beth from Little Women, Lily from Secret Garden, Penelope or Circe from EPIC, and Orpheus from Hadestown. Sadly I will probably never play Orpheus due to being a girl but I can dream.
I also love reading though I have not been reading nearly as much as I should be. My favorite book series is Wingfeather Saga, and I am currently nagging my mother to finish it. She is on the last book and I am very excited to see her reaction. Books like Wingfeather Saga are what really inspire me to write. I am always absorbing other content to see what creates a “successful story” and I am always trying to implement those ideas into my own stories.
I also absolutely love listening to music! I don’t think I could survive without music. Besides listening to musicals, I have started going through a folk song phase. I currently love listening to Madilyn Mei and Crane Wives. My current favorite Madilyn Mei songs are To Exist With You and Tho I’m A Tortoise. She has such spectacular songs but those two really hit a personal spot in my heart and I will forever hold Madilyn’s songs close to my heart. Some of my favorite Crane Wives songs are Tongues and Teeth, Never Love an Anchor, and Allies or Enemies. All of Crane Wives songs are spectacular for character building. This month during SWC I am wanting to write more about my character Kori and Crane Wives’ songs fit her so well. Especially Tongues and Teeth. Kori is a regret-less sort of psychopath, and while she is a horrible person she’s very witty and fun to write. I hope that anyone who reads her story will have a love hate relationship with her as a character. I have many characters that I plan to write stories about. Even my side characters are the main character to their own story. I try to make sure every character has a purpose in their story, since in real life everyone is their own main character too. I think it makes side characters feel more alive, plus it’s very exciting when you are able to read a spin off in your favorite side character’s point of view.
Another one of my hobbies I love is crocheting. While I don’t crochet as often as I write or perform, it’s something that I take a lot of joy in. I am starting to enjoy finger crocheting and I really want to make a large chunky blanket for my room!
Another thing I enjoy doing every now and then is play video games. While I am not an avid video game player, it’s fun to take time to relax and play a chill game for a second. Some games I enjoy playing are Slime Rancher, Stardew Valley, Minecraft, and Among Us. I used to play Roblox when I was younger but because of negative interactions we were no longer allowed to play anymore.
I am not sure what to write anymore so here are some random facts that I am going to answer about myself. When I was a kid I always wanted to be a writer and write a book one day but I never thought I could, but here I am with 77k+ in a novel! As a kid the first musical I went to go see was a production of Annie put on by a local community theater. I was probably around nine at the time that I went to see it. The usher there asked if I did any shows and I said I did “little church productions.” He told me that I might be up there one day and gestured to the stage. I told him I would never be able to do that but now here I am performing all the time as well as assistant directing! I think about that usher a lot, so wherever you are sir, you inspired a kid to pursue their dreams, and I am forever thankful for you!
I also love to cosplay! (I don’t know how I didn’t mention that earlier.) I have one two cosplay contests at my local comic-con and I am making another cosplay in hopes of winning a third in a row. My first real cosplay I made was of Peet The Sockman from Wingfeather Saga. I spent hours stitching patches onto pants and my vest in an attempt to make it look patchwork-like. I wore socks on my hands and even got fake stick on nails and painted them black to look like Peet’s claws. I ended up winning the cosplay contest and when I asked what made me win, they told me it was all the stitching and work I put into it. The next year I dressed up as a fairy and made my skirt from scratch. For this Halloween I made a cosplay of Polites from EPIC the Musical and it’s one of my favorite costumes. Though when I first tried to wear it I looked really weird, so I had to pull my hair back to not look so dorky. I am currently working on a cosplay of Athena from EPIC and it is my hardest cosplay yet. Athena wears a full suit of armor and also has a cape that doubles as wings. The costume is nowhere near done but I hope to finish it in time to wear it for our comic-con next spring!
Overall, I am just a weird geeky nerd trying to do cool things in the world. I hope to one day publish a book and maybe even go to broadway, but only time will tell.

♕ iii. daily 3 - 616 words
Prompt: “i have been made to protect you. only in death will i be kept from this oath.”
From 1lMaM’s profile <3

I looked up at Cassar with a glare.
“Why won’t you just leave me alone!” I cried, turning away from him with tears staining my eyes. This arranged marriage was not what I wanted. We had been married for barely a few months, I had only known him for a few hours before I walked down the altar. My mother had been sickly and ever since she had passed, Cassar had been following me around like a and I hated it. He wasn’t supposed to baby me. This marriage was simply for unity of kingdoms and nothing more.
“Alara–” he began, following after me anxiously. “You must understand I am only trying to comfort you and I–”
“Well stop trying!” I turned and snapped at him. “I do not love you, I never will, and your mindless following me around is driving me insane! I do not need your protection, Prince Cassar. I need you to leave,” I said and stormed off.
Hours passed. That night I was sitting on my bed angrily stitching a dress. I had torn it a few days before. Maids had offered to fix it but I kept it in hopes to do it myself. A knock on the window startled me and I pricked my finger, grumbling as I put the cut to my mouth. I glanced up at the window to see Cassar sitting on the sill. I jumped.
“What are you doing?!” I said in quiet surprise.
“Am I not allowed to visit my wife?” he asked with a charming smile and hopped down into my room, revealing a flower in his hands. I felt myself melt but shook it away.
“No, I told you to leave me alone and you did not respect that,” I said and pulled my feet up onto the bed, sitting crisscrossed. I glared at him as he wandered closer, trying to not seem threatening but obviously anxious to speak with me.
“Yes, I know. I just wish to say a few things to you,” he sighed and placed the flower he brought for me on my nightstand before walking over. I waited with a stubborn frown at what he had to say.
“I know you did not wish for this marriage to happen. I wasn’t particularly thrilled either…” he muttered and sat down on his knees, looking up at me. He gently took my hand. “But over these months I have grown to love and admire you dearly, and I plan to for the rest of my life,” he said.
I stared down at him with wide confused eyes. I had never expected this from him. From what I had heard before he was pleased about the politics in this marriage like my father was. I hadn’t expected him to ever grow to love me, and the sound of his voice made my heart flutter.
“We made an oath…” he continued and stood, still holding my hands. “I promised to protect you for the rest of your life. I did not say those words with emptiness, Alara–”
“I didn’t either…” I said quietly, holding my gaze with him. He smiled and he stood.
“Well then, we might as well make the most of this, shan’t we?” he asked and pulled me up.
“Where are we going?” I asked with a light amused laugh.
“I promised to care for you for the rest of our lives, which includes having a bit of fun, doesn’t it?” There was a slight twinkle in his eye as he led me to the door. “There’s something down at the beach I wish to show you.”
And from that day forward I no longer felt alone.

♕ iv. daily 4 - Word War with Chuey - 376 words

Prompt: I knew I never should have bargained with a unicorn

I knew I shouldn’t have bargained with the unicorn. It was a silly choice to make yet I had done it anyways. How do you even bargain with a unicorn you ask? Well here’s the thing, unknown to many people, unicorns are very much stricklers for the rules and love contracts. They also love making bets. I told a unicorn one day that they would not be able to destroy a brick wall with their horn, and then they told me they definitely could. I thought it was a silly thing to argue about but the unicorn insisted that I sign the contract that showed what each of us believed. I agreed and siged, and then the unicorn tried to break down the brick wall, and did it FLAWLESSLY! I was taken out of my seat and alas i lost the bet. Now this wouldn’t seem like a big problem except unicorns are insane with their fine print. Apparently on the contract, the unicorn had said that I would owe them 100 dollars if they won the bet! I said I shouldn’t pay up because I didn’t know about this and the font was so tiny I could barely read it. But the unicorn insisted I pay up so I did. And do you want to know what he did with that money??? He bought his son a toy unicorn! I thought that was pretty strange but each to their own. He then proceeded to buy all kinds of unicorn themed things and I asked him “why are you buying things that are unicorn themed since you are a unicorn?” and he told me, “well son, you see, us unicorns are very vain and absolutely cannot do anything but look at other things that are unicorn themed. My son’s favorite animal is a unicorn as is mine. We have lots of mirrors hanging in our houses.” So then I told the unicorn, “that is ridiculous, I bet you do not have hundreds of mirrors in your house,” and he told me with his nose to the sky in pride, “yes i do!” So I signed another contract, making sure to read the fine print this time. If I lost this bet I would have lost 1000

♕ Word War with MikaMillie - 210 words

prompt: he's the one in charge? he looks like a five year old in a tux

“Is he the one in charge? He looks like a five year old in a tux!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms as I looked down at the small man in front of me. “That’s because he is a child,” one of the men whispered in my ear and my eyes widened. “You mean I’m meeting about the weight of the world with an actual five year old?!” I exclaimed. The man shrugged. “I”m not five!” The child exclaimed and stood on the table. “I’m five and a half!” “Great, even better,” I grumbled and my arms dropped. “Alright, so whats the deal here, kid? Are you upset you don’t get to eat candy for breakfast or something?” “of course not. I’m much more sophisticated than those children. I actually do eat candy for breakfast. But don’t worry I brush my teeth so I dont get cavities” “great, just great,” i replied. “So what am I here for then?” “Well you see, sir. Santa is in grave danger and not able to deliver all of the presents to all my friends this year for christmas. Don’t worry they’ve been good kids, Santa is just sick and can’t get everything done.” “What does this have to do with me?” I asked.

♕ Word War with avia– - 218 words

I went to Mr. Jalapeno’s house and I greatly regret it. The man has much too spicy of a personality for me to withstand. Just the other day he was rambling on and on about all the different spicy toppings he had tried on his pizza and I was flabbergasted. It seemed ridiculous to try and eat so many spicy things. Then I asked him how he liked his guacamole and do you know what he said? He said he hated guacamole! Could you believe the crime?! I was up in arms about this so I asked him what he did like and he said he only liked spicy things. I told him he could make his guacamole spicy if he wished but he told me that guacamole was the only thing that could never be made good even if it was spicy. The man liked eating spicy vanilla icecream but not spicy guacamole! Like I said earlier I was in shock at this revelation.Then I asked him if he liked quesadillas but e said only if they have beans in them. Who eats a quesadilla with beans?! I had never heard of such a strange amount of food it was absolutely ridiculous. He then began telling me all the foods he liked and most of them

♕ v. daily 5 - 708 words

I waited patiently on the castle’s steps, watching the garden’s entrance gate with anticipation. I had been waiting here for hours but I knew it would come. He had promised it would come…
“Your highness…” a servant appeared behind me and bowed. I frowned up at her.
“How many times have I asked you to call me, Alara?” I sighed. The servant nodded.
“Sorry your highness, I just came out here to tell you that your father is waiting for you at dinner.”
“Tell him I will be absent,” I replied and turned away, still watching the garden’s gate. “I am waiting for Cassar’s message,” I said plainly. The servant sighed and muttered under her breath before leaving me alone. The garden’s walls began to block out the sun and I was beginning to become worried that I had been lied to.
Just as the sun dipped behind the walls, the gate opened and Cassar appeared with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. My eyes widened.
“You said you were sending a messenger…!” I said with surprise and stood up excitedly. Cassar smiled and presented the bouquet to me, and as I scanned it I saw it was one of dahlias and roses.
“I missed you, love,” he spoke to me gently. I smiled and took the flowers from him.
“What are these for?” I asked.
“Just a gift,” he shrugged as he hovered over me, watching my reactions carefully.
“Well thank you,” I smiled and looked back up at him. He had deep blue eyes and his dark hair complimented the rest of his face quite well. Despite my despair of being married a few months before, I was truly grateful for the man my father had chosen.
“Why– how are you here?” I asked, holding the flowers tightly. His expression brightened a bit.
“The council decided they did not need me there afterall. I was only late because I had to find you the right bouquet,” he explained with a charming smile, stepping back idly with his hands in his pockets. I chuckled softly.
“And why did they let you off early? Did you threaten them with my father’s expectation for you to be at dinner?” I asked. Cassar scoffed.
“I would never use your father as an excuse. No, the truth is the meeting ended much earlier than I expected. The council is considering sending boats out to other kingdoms, but everyone was in such uproar that they had to end the meeting,” he chuckled, his hands coming out of his pockets and resting over mine as he held the flowers with me. “But enough about boring politics, let’s find a vase to put these in, shall we?”

This went on for many days. The council was constantly calling meetings, many of which my father was not called to. In his old age he was beginning to become more of a political figure than one who truly made decisions. It was becoming Cassar’s job as the new heir and upcoming king to begin deciding what was best. But despite all the pressure being quickly laid on his shoulders, my love never missed a beat bringing me some flowers after every meeting.
I walked through the halls, carrying a bouquet of fresh daisies when I passed by my father in the halls.
“Hello, father,” I stopped and dipped my head to acknowledge him. He was dressed much nicer than normal and there was a small rhododendron tucked in his suit’s pocket. He seemed quite frustrated and I regretted stopping him.
“Alara,” he said harshly and I froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Where is that husband of yours? I have to speak with him,” he spoke quickly and his words were much sharper than normal.
“He’s… he’s at the council meeting as you wished for him to be. I could go retrieve him if–”
“No,” My father shook his head and quickly began walking off. “I will take care of my own issues. Thank you, Alara,” he nodded to me though he seemed to say it more out of obligation than out of truth. I nodded carefully and walked down the halls, wondering and worrying what my father had to say to Cassar…

♕ i. weekly 1 - 1,525 words

♕ part 1 - 410 words

Alice put the final bag into the back of their cart and closed it. Beatrice appeared behind her.
“Alithe! Alithe!” The young girl said excitedly. “Guesth what I found!” she held forwards her hands clasped tightly together. Alice looked down at her little sister’s hands and crouched to the ground.
“What is it, Bea?” she asked gently.
“Ya gotta guesth!” Beatrice smiled widely, her missing front teeth made her smile dorky and a lisp came from her mouth, but sweet nonetheless.
“You have to guess,” Alice corrected and Beatrice nodded quickly before stepping closer to her sister.
“Well?” Beatrice asked. Alice thought for a moment then sighed.
“I have no idea. What is in your hands, Bea?”
“A frog!” Beatrice squealed with delight and opened her hands. The green and slimy creature jumped straight towards Alice’s face, causing her to scream.
“Ah! Sthorry! Sthorry!!” Beatrice yelped as Alice stumbled to her feet, trying to swat the creature away. It eventually began hopping away down the path, clearly not pleased by being an unwelcome guest.
“Beatrice! You can’t just bring random critters from the creek,” Alice scolded and Beatrice looked down, fidgeting with her own hands.
“Sthorry Alithe… I jutht wanted to do thomething cool. Like you…” she said and her arms wrapped around herself. Alice sighed, crouching down to her sister’s level again.
“When you’re older… and you’ve fixed your lisp, you can come with me on these missions. You’re just not there yet,” Alice reassured. Beatrice looked up, scanning her sister’s expression.
“You sure…?” she asked.
“I promise,” Alice held up her pinky and Beatrice smiled as they made a pinky promise. Alice smiled and stood. “You should go back inside, I’m sure mother has dinner waiting for you on the table,” Alice said and Beatrice’s eyes lit up.
“Yesth!! Thanks Alithe!” She nodded and ran off towards their small humble home. That had been one of the last times Alice has seen her sister so lively. Of course, growing older takes a toll on you, sure, but something changed in Beatrice after that day. Alice left to go on another mission sent by the king, and didn’t return for many months. When she came back, Beatrice was different, and not in the ways she would have hoped for her younger sister.
The two grew apart… until a letter was received in the mail that Alice was needed for another mission, and Beatrice was requested to go with her.

♕ part 2 - 209 words

“Alright… we are ready.” Alice put her hands on her hips as she looked out the window. “Do you have the map?” She turned around to face Beatrice, who’s face suddenly paled.
“No…? I thought I was suppo–”
“Bea!” Alice shouted in anger. “I have told you this hundreds of times, you have to listen more carefully!” Alice took a few bold steps towards her sister. Beatrice stumbled back and held her hands, fidgeting with them nervously.
“Alice! I’m sorry I thought you said to give it to–”
“Give it to who…?” Beatrice hesitated, her eyes stayed on the floor. Alice grew impatient and stomped her foot. “Bea! Tell me!”
“Kaleb…” Beatrice whispered under her breath.
“Kaleb?! BEA! How could you?!” Alice shouted again. Beatrice flinched as her sister began pacing the room. “That map was all we had and you thought I wanted you to entrust it to a stranger?!” She turned back to her sister, blood pumping in her veins and fueling her anger.
“I- I’m sorry– It won’t happen again, Alice!” Beatrice cried and hugged herself. “I promise you. I’ll go make this right right away,” she nodded quickly and stumbled to leave.
“You better,” Alice spoke bitterly, watching her sister leave with daggers for eyes.

♕ part 3 - 399 words

“Kaleb…?” Beatrice tiptoed down the stairs into the young man’s basement, staring sheepishly around the corner.
“Yes, Bea?” Kaleb turned from hovering over his desk to face her. His tall stature and dark eyes made him an intimidating figure to look at.
“I’m really sorry… but I need the map back…” Beatrice explained awkwardly, shuffling her feet on the ground.
“Oh? And why’s that?” Kaleb asked, closing his journal and rolling the map back up.
“Alice really needs it. I misunderstood her, and wasn’t supposed to give it to you,” Beatrice said, looking up at him, nervous to his reaction.
“Ah, I see,” Kaleb walked over to Beatrice and handed her the map. “Do you always listen to what Alice says?”
“Well… yes…” Beatrice took it with a thankful nod, but her eyes fell to the floor.
“And why is that, Bea?” Kaleb asked, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms and looked down at the young girl.
“Because she’s my sister?” Beatrice said unsurely, she wasn’t quite sure what the answer to the question was and looked up at Kaleb with a nervous smile, seeking his face for approval.
“Ah, that’s a good reason I suppose,” Kaleb nodded and turned away, walking back to his desk. “She is quite responsible,”
“Yes, very. I can’t imagine what I’d do without her.” Beatrice nodded eagerly, hugging the map close to her, it crunched a little under her grasp. Kaleb cringed but didn’t correct the girl. He didn’t need the map anymore anyways.
“Neither could I…” Kaleb agreed with a nod, sitting down at his desk and picking up a pen. “Though, don’t you agree that it’s much better to be on your own?” he asked, spinning the pen in his fingers.
“What do you mean?” Beatrice asked innocently.
“Well, when I was your age I was completely responsible for myself. I didn’t need older sisters to guide me. Do you ever think about that?” He asked.
“Well… no,” Beatrice admitted.
“Maybe you should sometime,” Kaleb said, watching the spinning pen before tossing it into the trash can. “Sisters aren’t around forever,”
“Hm… you’re right!” Beatrice nodded quickly, she frowned with a huff. “I don’t like her bossing me around anyways,”
“Yes! Exactly,” Kaleb nodded and turned to face her again. “Just think about it for me, would you?” he asked. Beatrice nodded before hurrying away and up the stairs.

♕ part 4 - 507 words

SCENE SIX - The Underground Library

ALICE, BEATRICE, and their new accomplice KALEB make their way down into THE UNDERGROUND LIBRARY. They are searching for the GLOWING DAGGER, a mystical artifact that has been lost for many years.

BEATRICE
It sure is dark down here…

ALICE
Don’t worry, there’s got to be some torches or lanterns we can light

KALEB
Give me your knife

ALICE
What?

KALEB
Just trust me!

ALICE hands KALEB her knife and he strikes it against the stone, causing sparks to fly onto his torch. BEATRICE yelps in surprise.
BEATRICE
Wow! That’s amazing! Where did you learn to do that?

KALEB
This library was made before they realized this sort of stone was flammable. This whole place could go up in flames if we aren’t careful.

BEATRICE
How could a stone be flammable…?

ALICE
We are searching for a magical dagger, I think flammable stone is on the bottom of our list of confusing things we’ve heard of this week.

BEATRICE
Good point…

The Team head further down the stairs, KALEB leading them with his torch in hand. They make it to the bottom of the stairs to reveal the UNDERGROUND LIBRARY, with thousands of books on tall wooden bookshelves that reach to the ceiling.

BEATRICE
Woah…

ALICE
Let’s just find the dagger and get out of here

KALEB nods in agreement and the three begin searching. Beatrice begins touching all the books.

ALICE
Bea! Don’t touch anythi–

BEATRICE pulls on a book and the sounds of gears clicking and turning fill the LIBRARY and a bookshelf swings open to reveal a long and dark staircase.

ALICE
Oh my gosh–

BEATRICE
Do you think the dagger is down there…?

KALEB
I wouldn’t doubt it… ladies first

ALICE
Thanks… you’re very brave…

The Team walks down the stairs, ALICE leading the way with BEATRICE nervously following behind. KALEB keeps up the back. As they come down the stone stairs they see a faint glowing on a pedestal.

KALEB
It’s… the dagger

BEATRICE
Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh–

KALEB
I will only ask this once… please stop.

BEATRICE
Sorry…

The Team begins to approach it.

ALICE
It’s even more beautiful than I thought it would be…

KALEB
Indeed… Alice, would you like to do the honors?

ALICE
Sure…

ALICE reaches to grab the dagger. She gasps in pain as the glow from it’s blade traveled through it’s handle and through her veins to her heart. ALICE collapses and BEATRICE screams.

BEATRICE
What did you do to her!?

KALEB
The dagger’s power is too strong for simply one person…
KALEB reaches down and grabs the dagger from ALICE’S hands as she tries to sit up, but the power is too much for her body to bear.

KALEB
Now that it’s all inside Alice… I can take it with ease, and I will get all the money for the job. I know it’s too much for you to grasp, Bea, but you will someday. Good luck.

KALEB leaves the two.

END OF SCENE SIX

♕ vi. daily 6 - telemachus and antinous role-swap fanfiction - 2432 words

VIOLENCE WARNING! Near the end there is a sword fight and mentions of death

In the story of EPIC the Musical, Telemachus fights valiantly to protect his mother from Antinous and his team of 107 suitors trying to harm her and steal his father’s throne. But what if Antinous was just a mere loyal guard, and Telemachus was revolting against his mother’s reign…?

I walked down the long empty halls of the Ithacan castle, sighing as I thought about what the dining hall would look like once I entered.
The queen’s son, Telemachus, had only grown bitter since his father’s expedition grew unexpectedly long. With Odysseus gone for almost twenty years, the boy was growing impatient. He spoke everyday about how his mother would hand the crown down to him. But Penelope insisted that she would not pass the throne down until her shroud was complete and she finished grieving her father-in-law, Laertes. Of course I knew her secret. She had been working on it for almost three years now and secretly unweaved it to make it take even longer. Her rowdy son wouldn’t know the difference, but each day he grew more impatient.
I swung open the doors of the dining hall, scanning the men who were speaking loudly. A blunt force slammed against my head and I groaned, looking to my left to see Telemachus sitting smugly with his feet up on a table. He tossed a bowl up and down in his hand, ready to throw it along with the first.
“You’ve been slacking on your reflex training!” he called at me tauntingly. “Care to try again?” and he raised the bowl to throw it at me.
“I’m not in the mood for your games, boy,” I grumbled and continued to walk through the dining hall. Telemachus hopped off his seat and stood on the table.
“Don’t turn your back on me,” he growled, following me closely while walking across the tops of the tables. “I will be your king one day, look at me,”
I stopped and turned, looking up at him with a harsh glare. He had a smug grin, thinking he had won.
“Now bow, peasant,” he sneered and crouched down on the table to be down to my level.
“I would never bow to a greedy dog like you,” I muttered. The dining room slowly went quiet to see how this would go. “Your mother is too gracious with you, boy.”
Telemachus scoffed. “Speak of my mother all you want. She is an indecisive old hag that can’t even finish a silly shroud. If she was smart she would have passed the crown down to me by now.
“Your mother is honorable and is waiting for the hero that your father is to return.”
“He never will. She’s not loyal to him anyways,” Telemachus taunted again. He knew he was testing my limits. My hand flexed as I fought off the urge to fight the boy.
“Your mother is more respectable and loyal than you ever will be,” I replied and muttered a curse under my breath. “I’m done with your mind games, boy,” I said and tried to walk away.
“Alright, you go on and leave. Run back to my mother,” he laughed and sat down, glancing at his friends to get a reaction out of them. They laughed along with him.
I stopped and turned to face him. He could say whatever he wanted about me, but I wouldn’t tolerate implications about my queen.
“It’s a good thing I’m under orders or I’d beat you right now,” I stared up at him.
“I’d like to see you try,” he scoffed and stood up, squinting his eyes as he glared down at me.
“Is that a challenge?” I asked, stepping closer to look him in the eye. My fist clenched. His glare broke into a sly charming smile and he hopped off the table.
“I suppose it is,” he said as he got ready to fight me, raising his fists. I scoffed and set my sword to the side, readying my fists. Penelope was going to destroy me for this…
Telemachus threw the first punch which I easily dodged. The boy fought me for a good ten minutes and the longer it went on the better he got. His friends were all cheering and hyping him up as it went on. I almost thought I would lose until he made a clumsy mistake and I struck him with a hard punch right on his ear. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground. I wiped the blood from my split lip and loomed over him.
“Speak about our queen poorly again and I’ll have to do worse to you, understand?” I told him bitterly. He tried to get up and I stepped on his shoulder to keep him on the ground.
“Do. You. Understand?” I asked again and he sputtered to respond, nodding. I kicked him away and grabbed my sword, stalking out of the dining hall.

A few weeks passed. Telemachus and his friends disappeared from the castle and so did some men from their homes. I was called to The Queen’s quarters and walked in sheepishly. Servants bustled around and Penelope was seen sitting working on her shroud. I had to stop myself from scoffing, I knew her work was useless. But despite that, she was still as beautiful and radiant as ever… I shook my head to snap out of my trance and bowed my head to her.
“You called for me, my Queen?” I asked, dropping to my knee and looking up at her, awaiting instruction.
“I did, no need for that, Antinous. Please stand,” she said and stood. I copied her and put my hands behind my back. I towered over her in height but she never commented on it. I did my best to keep my humility in her beautiful presence.
“We discussed this before… you fought with my son in the dining hall a few weeks ago,” she began. I held my tongue. It didn’t do me any good trying to explain the situation last time. She loved her son too much to want to admit he was bitter and hateful. “Now he has disappeared from the castle all together. Do you know anything about this?” she asked, crossing the room to where there was some tea left by servants. She picked up a cup and blew on it.
“I knew of his disappearance, though his reasons why I could only guess,” I responded.
There was a grace to her movements and I scanned her carefully as she took a sip then carried the cup as she moved across the room to the window, staring out at the storm that was quickly growing and looming over Ithaca’s shores. “And what are your guesses, Antinous?” she asked, her eyebrows slightly raising.
“I mean no disrespect to your highness, but your son wants your husband’s throne. He doesn’t believe he is returning,” I explained carefully, watching her reaction and scanning her face carefully. She frowned and her eyebrows furrowed as she shifted her gaze to the shroud.
“I did not want to accept this but it seems you are right…” she sighed shakily. There was silence as she collected herself before she looked back up at me.
“I am entrusting you with gathering the guards to protect the castle. If he returns–” she paused. “Do not hurt my son. If he is causing havoc in the city as he was in the dining hall, you may capture him. If I hear his life was taken you are taking full responsibility,” she told me firmly. Motherly worry laced her voice. I nodded and she continued. “We will hold out until my husband’s return,” she paused and looked down at her tea. “He will return.”
“I will not let you down, your highness,” I bowed my head.
“Do your best. I wish you luck…” she nodded and dismissed me. I turned to leave.
“Antinous–” she said and I turned to face her. There was fear and worry in her deep brown eyes and I felt a stab to my heart to see her in such distress. “Thank you,” she told me. I nodded and left her before I could be enraptured in her presence forever.

I arrived in the barracks a few hours later and laid out my plan to the other guards. We would have extra guards placed around all entrances and exits, and a team would head into Ithaca with me to hopefully find and put a stop to this ridiculous rebellion and fight for the crown. I would not let the boy defile his mother and family’s name in such a way. The pain of what Odysseus would have to learn when he returned haunted my thoughts, but I prayed to the gods that he would understand why we were planning to throw his son into the castle’s depths. And hopefully Penelope’s loyalty and presence would comfort him…
Soon our plan was put into action. Servants came and reported to us that Telemachus had gathered up a group of about 108 men, and they were ready to try and steal the throne. They were currently causing havoc in the center of Ithaca. I lead my team of men to go and track him down. Today was going to be the end of his rebellion.
We traveled through the city to try and find Telemachus, though it was not too hard. He was leading his men through the city and his presence was no secret as they tormented citizens, stole from beggars, and attacked the animals.
“Ah! You’re back for round two, I see!” Telemachus called, standing atop a fountain as he spotted me. “I was just getting warmed up last time! Fist fights aren’t my forte anyways,” he smiled and unsheathed his sword. His men approached us with swords ready for battle.
“We can end this the easy way, Telemachus. Stand down and wait for your father’s return,” I said, glancing at the storm quickly spreading from the shores towards us.
“Odysseus is dead!” Telemachus shouted bitterly and stepped down from the fountain, approaching me slowly. “You can all praise his name all you wish, but he is dead and will never return to be your king. He abandoned us all!” he shouted and swung his sword around wildly. “I will not let a ghost of the past rule the present. My mother has to hand pass down the throne to me or Ithaca will be in ruin,” he said bitterly. “Would you like to deliver the message, or should I?” he taunted, pointing his sword at me. My men braced behind me to fight Telemachus’s.
“You’ll have to make it through me before even setting foot on the castle’s dirt,” I growled and unsheathed my sword.
“Suit yourself,” Telemachus sneered before all hell broke loose. The sounds of war broke out around me as the men shouted and charged at each other. Swords running up on eachother, the clashing of metal and the sound of it running through flesh.
Telemachus shouted as he swung his sword at me but I blocked it, thrusting him backwards and walking up on him quickly. He stumbled, trying to catch himself from my aggressive shove. He then charged at me and I jumped out of the way, his sword narrowly missing my middle.
While he was defenseless I swung to try and knock the sword from his grasp, not wanting to harm him for I didn’t need to lose my life today by word of our queen.
Telemachus dodged my strike and thrusted to slash my arm. I tried to dodge but his blade grazed my forearm and I hissed in pain, pulling back before repositioning to block him better.
Along with the sounds of war around me, the rumble of a mystical thunder came from the storm and the crashing sound of rain quickly approached us. I had never seen a storm like this one, and I prayed Odysseus was not caught up in it.
The battle went on for what felt like forever. My energy was beginning to drain and the rain began to clamber down on us. The bodies of soldiers and rebels scattered the city square, though Telemachus’s men were running thin. Trying to stop the boy but not kill him was running my energy dry and he seemed to catch on that I was under oath to not harm him.
“Ready to give up?” Telemachus sneered as we circled each other, his sword dragging on the ground behind him as he grew tired.
“I will fight until you are dealt with or until I die,” I spat.
“Well why don’t we make that happen?” he jeered and charged me, trying to run his sword through me but I dodged and struck his sword, knocking it from his hands. It clattered to the ground and his expression went pale. I kicked him against a house wall and held the blade to his throat. His breathing picked up with panic.
“How does it feel to be helpless, boy?” I said bitterly in his ear.
“You wouldn’t kill me– you can’t! My mother would have your head!” he cried. The rain poured down on us both and plastered his hair and clothes to his skin as he cowered under my strength.
“Well maybe my head would be worth it to get rid of a pest like you,” I told him threateningly, pressing the blade closer to him. He whimpered.
The lightning loudly shattered across the sky like a trident stabbing the sea and continued to do so, almost methodically. I stared down at Telemachus, wishing to follow the sky’s example and send my sword through him. But the fear in his eyes and his mother’s warning rang in my mind. I stepped back, releasing him but grabbing his arm and throwing him to the ground, holding the sword close to him as I scanned the battlefield for my men to take him to the dungeon.
We had won, but the true victory hadn’t happened yet. The storm seemed to grow with each stab at the sky and I stared off into the distance for a moment, praying that the storm would not keep our king from returning.
As if my answer to the gods had been answered, the lightning stabbed the sky one more time and thunder rolled as though in response as a scream to stop. Then, the clouds began to part and far off in the ocean near the rocks was a small boat, making its way to Ithaca.

♕ vii. daily 7 - 379 words
And so the adventures of Cassar and Alara continue. These two are becoming the main characters of my dailies and I love it <3

“Why haven’t you come back yet, dear? I miss you.” - @sillygreensunshine

Since I had seen my father, I had not seen Cassar and I began to worry. The metting lasted for days, much longer than they ever do, and flowers were beginning to be sent to me via servant instead of Cassar himself.
“Where could he be…?” I asked quietly and laid my head on the dining table, staring out the window. The meeting was adjourned now, but he had not shown up. Where could he be…?
“Perhaps he is off abusing his time,” my father said bitterly, sitting at the head of the table to my left. We were in our small parlor where we normally ate if we didn’t expect guests.
“He is not. Cassar is a respectable young man,” I said and sat up quickly, scanning my father with surprise as he insulted the man that he had picked out for me to marry. What was to gain for that?
“That’s what I believed when I asked his parents to have him take your hand… but now I am not so sure,” he said and picked at his food before standing. Servants bustled around us but all froze when he stood, watching him carefully.
“I am finished. Clean this up… and you,” he looked towards a female servant, Jossah, “escort my daughter to her quarters when she is finished,” he said before stalking off. I wished to discuss Cassar further with him but he was gone before I could say another word.
I finished my food in silence before Jossah escorted me to my quarters.
“I just can’t believe he wouldn’t show up after the council ended–” I said worriedly as she opened my door for me and I walked in, immediately heading toward my vase of flowers, inspecting them closely.
“Could you go get some water for these…?” I asked Jossah quickly and she nodded.
“Yes’m,” she said and hurried away. I sighed, longing for Cassar’s company. The servants always shied away from speaking with me and it became quite lonely after a while.
I walked to the window and sat on it’s sill, staring out it with anxious worry.
“Why haven’t you returned, Cassar…?” I whispered carefully, scanning the paths in hopes I would see him hurrying down them to greet me. “I miss you…”

♕ viii. daily 8 - 1695 words

“November 7th, 2067

It has been five-thousand, six-hundred, and eighty four days since their takeover. We have been hiding in bunkers for the past year since their power has grown too strong. I fear we will never be able to leave our homes again, at least not above the ground. They patrol the surface and attack any person who is in their sight. Adult and child alike, they do not care.”

My daughter entered my room timidly.
“Father…?” she asked carefully and I looked up from my journal. Barely anyone kept journals anymore, they were sacred now that the trees we used to make paper were under their domain.
I scanned my daughter with a frown. She had been born into this monstrosity… What had we done? How could we curse our future generations this way?
“Yes, Kyra?” I asked, turning my chair to face her. She was barely fifteen years old. She was born the year that I made my gravest mistake.
“What was it like before the… the take over…?” she asked me carefully. I held my breath as I tried to think of an answer to her question.
“Come sit child, you deserve to know.” I sighed and she quickly hurried over to me and sat on a chair beside me, looking up at me expectantly.
“Let me tell you the story,” I began as I searched my thoughts, “of Experiment Corvid.”

I remembered the day vividly. I walked into work as always. The lab was bustling and I had just started on my new project, Experiment Corvid…
The intelligence of crows, to be exact. Crows have been noted as one of the smartest bird species in the world. They have complex forms of communication with each other, can solve problems many birds and other animals can’t, they make tools, and have even been noted to hold funerals for other crows who have passed.
So this begged the question, could crows become our allies? Could we teach them to understand us? With a little bit of genetic manipulation and a specific diet, perhaps crows could become even more than they were now.
It was more of a passion project than anything. I had always been fascinated with animals as a child and hoped I could do something spectacular with them one day. My best test subject was a large crow who I had affectionately named, Fala. She was one of the smartest crows I had encountered, passing many of my tests and puzzles. I hoped one day to make her even smarter than she had been before.
I spent hours with that bird, affectionately training her, playing with her, and bonding closely. She lived in the lab and grew to recognize our faces. She hated my co-worker Hannah and would caw mockingly at her whenever she passed. The bird was feisty, and it always made me laugh.
I had been working for weeks to try and get her to be able to read. Showing her words and corresponding her pressing the correct buttons with a treat, but I couldn’t tell if she understood the concept. So I began creating injections.
Do not villainize me, reader, for I am not a villain. Fala was completely compliant to these injections and with her specialized diet, I saw her improve in a matter of days. She was able to correlate the letters to real words, and soon she was arranging toy blocks to tell us things. It started as small phrases like “food,” when she was hungry, and “bored,” when she wished to play, but it quickly grew to full sentences. Her tormenting of Hannah never ended and she would spell out curses whenever the woman walked by.
I was ecstatic that she had learned to communicate this way. Not only did she understand spelling and writing, but actual spoken english. I could have conversations with her and I quickly began spending more time at the lab than I did at home, having Fala help me with my other work. We were the ultimate duo.
I quickly wrote a paper about my studies, with Fala’s input of course, and the two of us published a paper about crow intelligence and how we could use this greatly to our advantage.
It was a week later when I got a call from the Chief of Staff of The Army.
He wished to meet with me, and of course I complied. I expected him to want me to invent some weapon for him, perhaps research how to make it so soldiers had to sleep less while still running on full power. We had been at war for the past four years and I was sure he would be asking me and my team for help.
While I was correct about him asking for help, I was shocked about what he asked me.
“I want to use your crow,” he told me as I met with him on a local military base.
“You… what?” I asked.
“I read your paper, is Fala a real bird? You claim she helped you write the thing.”
“Yes, she did and she is real. She’s the smartest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“And you made her that way?”
I hesitated before nodding. “Yes sir.”
“Perfect. This is my offer. I want you to breed me an army of crows and I’ll give you and your team… hm what sounds fair? Ten-million dollars?”
“Sir, I mean no disrespect but this has been a passion project for me. Fala isn’t a weapon, she’s a friend.
“It’s a bird, Doctor. Not a buddy you go to the bar with. Is the price the issue? I can raise it if you wish. The president has taken great interest in your research and he wants to use the birds for the war. You won’t have to give up your little friend or whatever, just make more.”
I thought about this. The thought of breeding animals simply for war set an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“Doctor, think about it this way. We are losing this war quickly. America can’t take much more of a hit. We lose more and more men everyday. Men who have wives and children to go back home to. But a bird? They may be sad for a while but if we can have them carry our bombs, our weapons, cameras, we could save so many men out on the field. And you get a chunk of change in your pocket,” he looked at me expectantly. “What do you say, Doctor?”
I sold my soul that day.
For seventeen-million dollars I sold my soul. My research went to the military scientists and I was overseeing the whole production. Research began to see if we could inject eggs before they even hatched, and it worked.
It all worked.
After almost another year of research and work, we had built an army of millions of crows. They were trained to be spies and carry our bombs, our guns. And it worked. Oh it worked so, so beautifully.
That was, until I had a discussion with Fala.
I walked into my office, exhausted from the day. There was a message written out on the computer for me. Fala had escaped from her cage once more and began typing on the keyboard, writing in all caps:
STOP.
“Stop what?” I scoffed and reached in my bag for some treats. Perhaps she was upset I was out so late. She typed more.
STOP SENDING THEM TO WAR.
My eyes widened a bit. I hadn’t realized that Fala could even understand the concept of war.
“I can’t do that, Fala. I’m being paid for this. They’ll be alright,” I dismissed her and went to leave. She cawed and stole my hat with angry flapping before typing again.
THEY ARE DYING. I DONT LIKE IT. THEY DONT LIKE IT.
My heart began racing but I refused to respond to her. She was just a bird. It didn’t matter. She understood English but she couldn’t truly understand war. Birds didn’t have morality and souls like us. Before she could fight me more I quickly stormed out and slammed the door, grabbing my things, and going home.
That evening, Fala figured out how to open the window and was spotted on the military cameras communicating with the crows on the base.
Everything went downhill from there. In anger, Fala spoke with the birds. I presume she was telling them to revolt or something of the kind, but I did not speak crow so I couldn’t tell.
That next week, the crows of all kinds began attacking people. Not just the ones we had bred in labs, but the average ones on the streets. Even the ravens began swooping down from the skies to harm us.
People began panicking and the country was sent on a lock down. Everyone hid in their houses for days, only leaving if they had to. But no one had to anymore, for if you left your home, hundreds of crows would swoop down and feast on you in anger.
The government tried to fight back, shooting and killing them, but the horrible realization came upon me of why we do not teach animals to use weapons. The crows we had bred knew how to use our guns, our bombs. Those crows joined with the average ones of the streets and their children held just as much intelligence as their scientifically made parents.
The world was never the same after that, humanity was doomed. I never saw Fala again.
Humans began to move underground. Without the advantage of flight and open skies, the crows struggled to attack us. We made bunkers and became creatures of the ground instead. Barely anyone goes to the surface now. I don’t think my daughter had ever seen sunlight before.
That was fifteen years ago. I regretted what I had done and I still blame myself for the destruction of our society. Everyone was so terrified we would fall to our politics or economics, but instead we met our demise by a simple backyard bird that should not have been tampered with by human kind.

♕ daily 18 - 517 words

I shook my mother awake and she sat up with a groan. Her three eyes blinked groggily.
“What is it, Jorrgaar?” she asked with a grumble.
“Mom! I forgot to ask you, can I go to the human life simulation tomorrow?” I asked, my tail wagging behind me.
“The what?” My mother asked.
“The human life simulation! We’re learning about Earth this week and they have a simulation where you turn into a human for a day and experience what they do! Can I pleeeease go?” I asked.
“I suppose… now let me sleep,” she grumbled and rolled over. I beamed.
It was not what I expected.
Me and my friends arrived at the simulation and we all eagerly raised our tails in hopes of being called on and chosen to go into the simulation. To my surprise, I was chosen.
A helmet was placed over my head and I was put into a large room. It was dark for a while until I woke up in my bed at home.
“Wait… this isn’t my bed,” I said in confusion. There was a springy soft box below me, and piled around and on top of me were large soft squares. They seemed to be keeping me warm and I squirmed with discomfort.
“John! Get up, you'll be late for school!” A female’s voice called. What kind of a name was John? I threw the strange soft squares off of me and stumbled to my… two feet? Ugh, this was going to take some getting used to.
The room was large and square and disgustingly decorated with boring colors like blue and green. I couldn’t believe that humans would decorate a room like this. It felt quite drab. The female yelled at me again to go brush my teeth and change into clean clothes.
I confusingly stumbled around the room eventually finding what I had learned was considered clothes in my Other Planets class a few days before. I struggled figuring out how to put them on before realizing I had to pull the “shirt,” over my head. Once finally becoming fully dressed I stumbled into a cold and hard floored room. This room was much more drab than the room before, decorated with light blues and porcelain everything. I cringed at all the white. I hated the color white.
I remembered the voice telling me to brush my teeth and grabbed a brush, smiling to see my teeth. That was strange… This brush seemed all too big. I heard a familiar voice, my teacher’s, appear in my ear and tell me that I was using the wrong thing.
The rest of the day went this way… using the strange blue stick with bristles to scrub my teeth. Pouring weirdly shaped foods into a bowl full of white liquid. I was reprimanded for putting the liquid in first. What the difference was I had no idea.
After that I was sent out the door and towards a large yellow monster that roared. Lots of other human children were climbing on. At this point I was too overwhelmed and wanted to leave.
“I’m done!” I cried and the simulation stopped. I was back in the brightly colored round room I was used to.
“Well, how’d you like it?” my teacher asked.
“Humans do weird things in the mornings,” I complained and hurried back to my friends to tell them all about the experience.

♕ daily 19 - 265 words
Prompt by -vanillamochabear- “so who’s coming?”

“So?”
“So…?” I turned to look at my brother who was waiting in the hallways, glancing around the corner carefully.
“Who else is coming?” he asked, stepping back into the dark room with anxious eyes.
“Kyra should be here soon but that’s it,” I replied plainly.
“Oh thank goodness,” he chuckled and leaned against the wall, running his hand through his hair.
“I mean, unless someone follows her,” I teased and peeked out the doorway. No one was here… yet. We needed her to show soon, or the device wouldn’t work.
“Don’t joke like that!” Finnigan said and smacked my shoulder harshly. I scoffed and smacked him back, to which he shot me a playful glare.
“I’m sure your girlfriend will be fine,” I rolled my eyes and stepped back into the dark room, glancing over to the table with the softly glowing machine. It whirred quietly. Kyra had the key… if she didn’t show up soon–
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he glared at me, though it shifted to less playful and more annoyed. Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Finn jumped in surprise. Kyra appeared in the doorway, dangling the key.
“Ready?” she asked. Finn’s eyes lit up but he smacked her anyway.
“You scared me,” he scolded.
“Ever heard of knocking?” I scoffed and took the key from her, walking over to the machine.
“You knew I was coming,” Kyra shrugged and followed me over to the table.
“Ready?” I asked as I readied to put the key in.
“Who else is coming?” Kyra asked.
“No one,” Finn said.
“Then let’s do this.”

♕ daily 27 - 470 words

Yellow dances across the page, beautiful and bouncy. She brings light to all those who see her. She glides gracefully across our sights and although she only ever graces us for a moment, her praises will forever be sung. Everyone reaches for her. They aspire to be her. She is bold, beautiful. There is nothing more to her than her greatness.
White skittishly dodges those she has not met, hovering close to the ones she holds dear. She darts through the uncomfortable and hides when she is overwhelmed. She knows when she should take a leap or when she should cozy in her bedroom with tea and a book. She gets tingles up her arm when she senses something is wrong, and is always attempting to protect the ones she loves. But she struggles to tell those around her how she truly feels, making excuses such as “What if they disagree?” or “What if they do not care?” While many refuse to accept her, she is deep inside us all, trying to keep us safe.
Blue is often hiding away. When she reveals herself she has a smile but we all know the truth. She has tears down her face. She cares so deeply it has to come out in the form of tears. Blue is quiet, generally heavy around those she loves. She tries so hard to not be a burden but some consider her one when she is not. She shows us what is worth caring about, and though her measures can be uncomfortable and extreme, she is the most compassionate of all.
But what about Red? What is it?
Is it bright like yellow? In the spotlight of everyone’s affections? Does it hide like White? Keeping it’s thoughts to myself? Is it a burden like Blue? Keeping itself bottled up until it cannot take anymore and it spills over?
Red is a blazing fire like the sun, fiery for what it believes. Sometimes that fire boils for hours, days, years, and it erupts into an outburst of confusion and anger, wanting so desperately to hold onto what it loves that it does the opposite and drives them away.
But when Red is taken care of properly… it is so much more beautiful. Red’s passion spills out for others to feel, motivating and bringing up those around them. Red is quiet, it is intense, and focused, determined to complete what it has promised. Red is a carrier of burdens, seeing those unjustly accused and rioting for their cause. Those who nurture Red, and keep it safe, will grow to love it. Those who do not care for it, and neglect it, will be abandoned, and left in the snow with no direction. Red is how we know what to care about as we grow old.
Red, is passion.

♕ Thank You Notes - 540 words

SWC Thank Yous

Luna
Luna, it has been such a joy getting to know you this session! Our rivalry on trackbear is something I will always remember and even though I dropped out later, I’m so proud to see that you are (as I am writing this) third on the leaderboard!! You have been such an awesome friend and huge motivator. I look up to you so much and how driven and passionate you are about writing. I hope to do more camps with you! <3

Eevee
Eeveeee!!! I’ve seen you around all over scratch but this session I have finally gotten the time to get to know you and it has been such a joy to do so! Fighting with you and Luna on the trackbear leader board honestly motivated me so much in my writing journey and I thank you so much for that!! I’m also super proud of you and how much you’ve written this month, being number one (as i am writing this) is a bit feat!! You are an absolute icon my friend and I hope to do more camps with you in the future!! <33

Yanna
Yanna!!! I have enjoyed every moment in camp chatting with you. Seeing your perseverance throughout camp and during cabin wars is so inspirational, I wish to do what you did this session. You have been such a wonderful friend and your presence made the Myth cabin so homey and special for me. I hope we are able to be in more cabins together in the future!!!

Zy
I would like my toes back, you can deliver them to the North Pole and I will pick them up promptly so they wont freeze. Thank you.

Myth Cabin
Thank you so much to all my fellow myth-ers! (Is that the right term? I don’t know. Anyways!) This is my first session in over two years and all of you made it such a welcoming and spectacular experience!!! I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help with cabin wars, but it was so comforting to know that we had so many active people this session. Genuinely, thank you all. I’m going to remember this session for a long time.

SWC Campers
THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE I MET IN THIS SESSION!!! Ya’ll made this session so fun!!! And I am so happy that so many of you joined the trackbear leaderboard, you have no idea how much that makes me happy that I was able to start something for ya’ll!!! A huge thank you to all of you, you made this session so amazing and special for me. November is always a wonky part of my life and SWC was something that I could look forward to and it helped me grow so much as a writer thanks to you guys! Big shout out to the leader team and the polar bears for making this session amazing. And of course we can’t forget Gurtle.

This session created so many amazing memories for me and I will treasure it for a long, long, LONG time. Thank you all, and I hope to see you next session!!!

((ps: you all should join January writing camp and put steampunk as your pref ))

JWC ♕ daily 1, 1k intro - 1,330 words

Hello there my friends! My name is Claya Isles, but you can call me Claya. Here is my 1k intro. This is my first session of January Writing Camp, though I have been in three or four sessions of Scratch Writing Camp before this. This year I am leading The Overseer Factory, AKA Steampunk alongside my lovely co-leader, Allen. We have lots of interesting plot created for this session and I am extremely excited to share them with you all! Now, let's get to the stuff more about me haha.

I am an avid theater kid and I do lots of community theater, where I have recently played roles such as Ursula from The Little Mermaid, and Lily from Secret Garden, among more named ensemble roles.Theater is one of my biggest passions besides writing and I hope to go to a more professional theater some day. Some of the musicals I absolutely adore are Hadestown, Newsies, EPIC, Secret Garden, and I am currently enjoying The Great Gatsby quite a lot. I could ramble about EPIC for the longest time among other musicals, so please feel free to ask!

Another hobby I am into is music! (No surprise, am I right?) I am a singer which is my favorite form of music, but I also play intermediate ukulele and I can play piano with chords. I can't actually play piano for the life of me but whatever floats your boat right? I also know very basic guitar and as one of my New Years resolutions this year I would like to master at least basic guitar by the end of the year.

Some of my favorite music artists to play, sing, and listen to, are Sleeping At Last, Madilyn Mei, Crane Wives, Arcadian Wild, and Ballroom Thieves. These five artists make up the bulk of my current listened to playlists and I HIGHLY recommend all of them if you are into folk music or in Sleeping At Last's case, orchestrational.

Sleeping At Last is one of my all-time favorite artists. While the others I listed I just discovered near the end of last year, I have been listening to Sleeping At Last for I think over two years now. I took a slight break from his music for a few months but I have been listening to all my playlists with his songs in them again and they are one of the prettiest and gorgeous works of art I have ever seen in music. Not only is Sleeping At Last's music pleasing to the ears but it's also like a piece of poetry. All of his lyrics have underlying meanings and are genuinely just genius to listen to. Some of his favorite songs of mine are from his Enneagram album and his Planets album. I highly recommend the entire Enneagram album and his songs Neptune, Pluto, and Mercury from the Planets album, but of course, all of his songs are amazing. He touches a lot on human senses and instinct, and while many of his songs have a melancholy tone, even songs like Sorrow have a hopeful undertone. I think that's why he is one of my favorite artists, since he touches on the sad and joyful equally. It's really beautiful to listen to.

But enough about Sleeping At Last, the other artists I listen to also deserve a little ramble from me.

Another favorite artist of mine as I stated previously, is Madilyn Mei. Madilyn Mei writes more folk-like music and many of her songs revolve around childhood and whimsy vibes. My favorite song by her is The Chapel, which is about feeling the loss of something you never had. It's a super sweet song that I highly recommend. Some of my other favorites by her are Kleptomaniacrow, a song about a crow stealing a girls necklace which is connected to her soul (its a fun ride haha.) Tho I'm A Tortoise which is about falling behind and how that's okay, and Sheep in Wolf's Clothing (you heard that right) which is about trying to fit in with those around you. Some other honorable mentions are Partner in Crime (that one is fun to listen to, lots of yelling haha,) as well as Call Me The Bard, Cryptid, and I'm sure there are more I'm forgetting.

Another artist I absolutely adore is Arcadian Wild. While I will probably have less to ramble about with them, they are definitely in my top three artists. Their song If You're The Coffee was my top song of 2024 with I believe over 300 listens which is absolutely insane. Arcadian Wild has a more positive vibe in their music, they are very folk based and have harmonies that lift my ears to the heavens. I have yet to listen to an Arcadian Wild song and not immediately love it. Some of my favorites of theirs is Hey, Runner!, Oh, Sleeper, If You're The Coffee, The Anthem of Mr. Dark, Letters from The Atlantic, and Envy Green. Oh! And Wolves of The Revolution. If you are going to actually listen to any of the songs I mentioned at least go and listen to some of the Arcadian Wild ones, they are absolutely spectacular.

Crane Wives and Ballroom Thieves, while, are also some of my favorite artists, I have less to say about them as a whole so I'm just going to say some of my favorite songs. My current absolute favorite Crane Wives song is Black Hole Fantasy, but I also love Not The Ghost and I'm currently working on a story mildly inspired by it! (More on that later.) Ballroom Thieves has more of an indie rock feel compared to the rest of the artists but I still love their music. My favorites from them would be Archers, Bees, Anybody Else, I'm Around, and Loneliness Waltz. A lot of their songs remind me of my character Caspian and many of them such as Archers, Bees, and Anybody Else, are actually somewhat theme songs for him. But Caspian is a whole other ramble that I don't have time to dive into right now.

Now, I said I was going to tell you about the story that I'm working on so here I go! My current WIP that I will hopefully draft lots of during this session, is a Historic(ish) Ghost Fantasy story. Here's the synopsis:

Twenty-year-old Clara Hawthorne has lived with her mother for as long as she could remember. Since her parents had their falling out when she was barely four years old, she has lived a simple but wealthy life alongside her mother's side of the family, completely cut off from her father.
But when her father suddenly passes away, the will strangely reads that Clara is to inherit the mansion. With the rest of her father's family up in arms about the decision, Clara moves in only to realize something feels very strange about her new home
Alongside her new found acquaintances, The Hayes Family (and their quietly charming son named Rory,) Clara explores the mansion and discovers that there was more to the reason why her parents split, why her aunt wants the mansion so badly, and that there may be more “people” inhabiting this mansion than she realized…

There's my little blurb that I just whipped up right now, everything is subject to change but oh well. This is going to be my passion project this month so if you would all yell at me each day to ask if I've written towards it, I would highly appreciate that.

And that concludes my 1k intro! I suppose it was mostly just me rambling about my music taste, but that's totally okay with me since more people need to listen to these artists, they are extremely underrated. If you have any questions please let me know! I left lots of things out since this was just how my train of thought ran. I'm extremely excited for this session of camp! STEAMPUNKFTW!

JWC ♕ daily 4, character sheets, 1,241 words

Clara Hawthorne
Protagonist
Female
20 Years Old
5ft 6in
Personality: Clara is on the quieter side and tends to keep to herself. She used to be a loud and excitable child but after her parents separation and also constantly moving, she became quiet and hasn’t gained her loud excitement in a long time. She enjoys simpler and quiet hobbies such as crafting and singing. Other traits to describe her would be introspective, loyal, untrusting, defensive, and a strange mix of selfless but upset about being so.
Physical Appearance: Pear-shaped build, tan complexion, dark brown messy curly hair, blue-gray eyes, soft facial expressions. Clothes include simple regency era style gowns and prairie dresses.
Family: Clara has a fairly large family though only specific members play a part in the story. Her mother is Jane Hawthorne, a tall blonde woman with strict but kind ideals. She formed Clara into the lady of society she is today. Her father is Lucas Hawthorne, a shorter, messy and unkempt man who would rather be in books than in society. Her brother, who died many years ago, and her Aunt Nessa, who is her father’s sister. A strict and somewhat bitter woman.
Friendships: Clara only has a few friends, after moving many times as a child she stopped putting in the effort to stay close with anyone. Once she moved into her father’s mansion she befriended Rory Hayes, a gardener and servant of the Hawthorne mansion, which you can read more about below.
Backstory: Clara and her family of four lived in the Hawthorne Estate, a large mansion in the country, until she was four years old, when her parents suddenly blew up in conflict and separated. Jane, the children’s mother, took Clara with her to live in the city and her brother stayed with their father, Lucas. Clara moved around about three times after that, always staying in the cities, her mother seemed to suddenly loathe the country. She lived in each place long enough to plant roots, only for them to be ripped out again. After the second time she stopped attempting to form deep relationships and just let the people float around her until she inevitably moved again for the third time.
When her father died merely a month after her twentieth birthday, she went to her funeral to learn that she had inherited his mansion, which confused her. Against the wishes of her family and many others she decided to move in and that is where her story begins, meeting Rory, a son of the generational family of servants that live there, and also a ghost, who has no clue who he is.

Rory Hayes
Supporting Protagonist
Male
23 Years Old
6ft 3in
Personality: Rory is a quiet man and enjoys silently watching everything from afar. He’s a humble and honest worker, and has lived on the Hawthorne Estate for as long as he could remember. He could sit in the silence for hours and be content, just working along, though he also appreciates when people are passionate and loud even though he could never act as such. Some other traits that describe him are mature, gentle, laid-back, tolerant, and loyal.
Physical Appearance: Large muscular build, pale complexion with lots of freckles, natural red wavy hair, brown/hazel eyes, sharp and intimidating facial expressions. Clothing includes button ups with suspenders, but also nicer clothes such as green waistcoats with dark slacks. (He’s a gardener but he still cleans up nice.)
Family: Rory has many family members but there are three that play an important role in the story, his (adoptive) parents and sister. They have yet to be named and developed so I won’t say much about them beside the fact that they exist.
Friendships: As a child Rory didn't have many friends but he did enjoy the company of the Hawthorne boy before he passed away, and they became very close until he disappeared at the age of 14 and ½ . Rory was sixteen at the time. He never made any close friends again, not even with the other servants.
Backstory: Rory’s family was hired and moved into the Hawthorne Estate’s servants quarters when he was six years old. His parents were quite poor and sickly people but met the Hayes family in town, and they said that their master, Lucas Hawthorne may take them on for servant work. The small family of three quickly took the opportunity and were welcomed with open arms by the Hawthornes. Merely a month later, a horrible sickness swept through the house and Rory’s parents did not make it. The Hayes family quickly took him in and adopted them as one of their own, and he has been at the Hawthorne Estate ever since. He witnessed the Hawthorne family divide from a distance and was always weary of their family, seeming that there seemed to always be problems, but a few years later after saving their son from drowning, Rory became very close with Lucas and his son and was treated like family. His new adopted family seemed a bit envious of his close relationship with the two, but they never judged or questioned it.

Silas
Supporting Protagonist
Male
14 Years Old
5ft 7in
Personality: Silas is a loud and rambunctious young man, well, if he wasn’t a ghost. While he loves to joke around and pull pranks on the members of the Hawthorne Estate, he has this longing to discover who he is, not remembering much of anything before his death six years ago. He can be a bit lonely and insecure, but overall is goofy, light hearted, impulsive, and bold.
Physical Appearance: Thin and lanky build, tan complexion, dark brown messy hair, blue eyes, friendly and child-ish facial features. Clothing consists of nicer regency style outfits, generally in the dark red and yellow color scheme.
Family: Silas doesn’t remember much of his family, but he does remember faint silhouettes of a mother and father, and a sibling beside him. But they didn’t stay for long.
Friendships: Silas barely remembers if he ever had friends though reading about the concept is very exciting to him. He knows people interacted with him before he died, some at a respectful distance while others seemed to be much closer, but its all a foggy memory and nothing seems to trigger it. He cannot leave the Hawthorne house but likes to watch some of the servants from the window garden and clean the property. Those are his closest friends. He also listens to the owner of the house, Mr. Hawthorne read out loud to no one. He loves the stories and even named himself after a character in one, but doesn’t understand why the man is speaking to no one. Perhaps he is lonely as well?
Backstory: All Silas clearly remembers is waking up on the roof of the Hawthorne house, almost as though he was being pulled up and away before being stopped. Around his legs and arms were chains of sorts stopping him from leaving the property. Before that, he has flashes of a family coming and going, a friend lifting him up, and someone screaming curses over him. But beyond that there is nothing. And there won’t be for a long time. Life, well, death, was feeling bleak and frustrating until Clara Hawthorne walked in through the front door three weeks after Master Hawthorne’s death. Silas’s life flipped upside down, though he hoped for the better.

JWC ♕ daily 12, 359 words

“Someone get me out of here!” The hero cried. The villain watched him with confused curiosity. “Whatever do you mean? I haven’t even done anything to you yet don’t be such a wimp–”
“No, I’m not supposed to be here, don’t you realize, this isn’t real,” the hero explain frantically. The villain’s eyebrows furrowed and she began pacing back and forth.
“Go on…” the villain led on and the hero began rambling nonsense about… being inside a story?
I watched this with a panic. I couldn’t let the hero spoil the story, how did they figure it out anyways? Only I was supposed to know that this was a story. I was the narrator after all. But here was the protagonist of my story, the heroic figure meant to save the day, crying to their nemesis about how they didn’t want to be here.
It wasn’t my fault they were hero material. I had pulled them as a background character from another story and plopped them into this one, as I normally did. Though I didn’t expect him to become self aware.
“So you’re telling me that we are inside of… a story book?” The villain scoffed, “Do you know how insane you sound? Are you just trying to stall me from finishing my plan?”
“No–! Story book, tv show– it doesn’t matter, but this isn’t our original world! Don’t you understand? Do you really think you grew up in a family of evil super villains? Does that sound real to you?”
“It doesn’t matter if it sounds real, it’s what happened. Have I kept you locked up too long? Are you alright?” The villain asked with almost genuine concern.
I had to stop this. I couldn’t let the protagonist break open all my plot holes that I had shoddily covered up! And I definitely couldn’t let the villain become concerned for the hero, they were supposed to be enemies! My mind spun as the hero began to explain his theory to the now intently listening villain. But how will I stop them without revealing my presence as their narrator…?
I know, I’ll have to become a character myself.