Prompt: Ten Word Stories, from Claya “Tiny shoes on the shelf, bought years ago, never worn.”
Word Count: 791/250
Points: 250
Completed: 11/7/24 at 9:27PM UTC

(warning: Uhh… sad implications? I tried to keep things vague, but *shrug* use discretion <3 Oh yeah, and I also have no idea what time period the videos are supposed to be in. Don’t think about it too hard and all the problems magically go away )

You look at the old video camera and scrunch up your face. Hm, how curious. You didn’t expect to find anything of interest while cleaning out the attic of your family home. It was 2044, not much from those eras lasted too long. According to the label on the box, this was recovered from… the ink was so faded that you couldn’t read the last word. You shrug. Oh well. You decide to click a play button and smile as a grainy video appears on a tiny screen, muffled audio coming out of a small speaker. A woman began to speak as she checked out a few photos in a catalog.

…

“Oh what about these ones?”
“I don’t know… they look weird.”
“But the little bear faces are cute!”
“Can we look for something else?”
“Okay, but if we can’t find anything else that’s better, we’re buying these.”
“Sure.”

…

You click to a different video. Huh, that one was short. The next one looked slightly longer, thankfully. You press play and squint at the video. A few balloons were in the corner of the video, so you assumed it was a party of some sort. The video cuts into the middle of a song being sung by a few people out of view.

…

“-to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Jenna, happy birthday to you!”
The woman sitting behind a pink cake gives a small smile.
“Blow out the candle! Blow out the candle!”
Jenna hesitates for a moment before blowing out the candles. Her smile widens, and she looks straight at the camera.
“Oh thank you honey. I couldn’t have imagined such a wonderful birthday.”
The man behind the camera readjusts it, shaking the image a bit.
“Oh of course! I was happy to put it together.”
Jenna stands, though she takes a bit of time. She comes over and hugs the cameraman, her voluminous blond hair obstructing the video a bit. After she leaves the hug, the video ends.

…

You skip a few other videos, ones that look boring to you. You stop on one that looks like it is in the midst of yet another party, so you click play.

…

“Aw, thank you Marge! This onesie will be perfect!”
Jenna sets the package to the side. She is visibly expecting, wearing a flowy blue dress to match the blue decor around her. Marge replies.
“Oh of course dear! Just be warned, you won’t be able to use it for very long. Kiddos are notorious for growing out of clothes faster than the blink of an eye!”
Jenna giggles.
“I will keep that in mind, thank you.”
“Oh of course!”
Jenna turns to the table holding the gifts. She selects a small little box, wrapped in blue wrapping paper. She reads the label and smiles, looking directly at the camera.
“Daw, Benjamin, you got me something else?”
The camera shakes as he nods.
“Well, I can’t wait to see what it is!”
Jenna gently tears off the wrapping paper and lets it drop to the floor. She opens the small shoe box and smiles.
“Oh! Benjamin! These were the shoes I wanted! Thank you!”
Benjamin replies, getting up from his seat and coming over.
“I knew that I said I didn’t like ‘em, but they grew on me, so I got ‘em.”
The camera tilts down a bit to show the shoes. They were made out of canvas, and the front was dyed to have the cute face of a teddy bear. There are no laces, and they appear to be soft. The camera moves back up to capture Jenna’s face. She grins.
“These’ll be perfect for him! Thanks a million!”

…

The video ends and you make a face as you try to click through more videos, but that was the more recent one. You reexamine the footage. Huh, that shoebox looked familiar. You get up from your seat on the attic floor and move to look at the pile of boxes you had piled in the corner. You dig through them a bit before finding an identical shoebox. It’s dusty, so you blow at the dust a bit till it doesn’t cling to the slightly deformed box, bits of black crusting off of the corners. You slowly open the box, glancing inside. There the shoes sit. They are small, unassuming. You gently reach in and hold the shoes. You feel the tags that still hang to the sides and a sigh escapes your mouth, blowing away a bit of the dust and ash that had settled on the shoes. The bears stare up at you, and you meet their eyes, mourning the fact that these shoes never served their purpose.

“Five hosts… Five hosts.. three days left to destroy them all”

191 words (the typos are horrid- *sob*)

I can’t believe that I”m saying this, but I don’t think that we can do this.” Joe looked at me in surprise, “Wow, you never say that. You’re always like, Oh yeah I’ve got this! What’s made you change your mind?” I shrugged, “Did you… look at that map? The world is so much bigger than I though it was. The hosts have really given us a challenge here and I’m starting to lose hope.” “Hey, don’t say that.” Joe gave me a grin, starting to move toward the counter where a knife, the device, and a cellphone sat. He picked up the device, “All we need is for this to find its way into the heart of the world. Then kaboom. Simple. We just need to make it there on time.” “It’s not that simple.” I said, setting aside my helmet and staring at the computer screen. Joe shrugged, “Hey, look, I’m sure that you’re feeling a lot of emption right now, but that’s not going to help if we don’t do this right. You just need to believe in yourself. I’m sure that it’ll be fine.” “Really?” “really.”

weekly that i dont have time to make pretty, 1215 words

part one
Marissa: Romantic, thoughtless, nosy, chatty
Jackie: Introverted, sensitive, withdrawn, quick-tempered

“Heyyy,” Marissa said, bumping Jackie’s shoulder. “How’d it go?”
“What?” Jackie asked, staying glued to the television.
“You know,” Marissa giggled. “The talk?”
Jackie turned and swatted her, flushing and looking around to make sure no one was within hearing distance. “Shh!"
“Was it romantic? What did he say?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jackie mumbled, popping a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Let’s just finish the movie.”
“You said you’d tell me everything,” Marissa protested. “It’s so-”
“I said I don’t feel like talking about it. If we’re not going to watch this, let's just turn it off.”
“Whatever. It’s almost over anyway. And then you can tell-”
“Nope,” Jackie said forcefully, and turned off the movie.
Marissa crossed her arms and pouted. “You’ve been talking about it all week! You promised!”
“You’ve been talking about it all week, not me,” Jackie pointed out, but Marissa ignored her.
“And now you go and back out on me? Come on,” she wheedled. “Just an itty bitty tiny fragment?”
Jackie stood, brushing popcorn fragments from her jeans. “Can we just drop it? I don’t want to, and you pressured me into promising anyway.”
“Yeah, but you promised.”
Jackie folded her arms, face flushing again - this time with anger. She bit her lip and shook her head. “Why won’t you listen to me? I’m not talking about what happened. Ever. Just leave me alone.”
Marissa sighed dramatically. “Yeah, whatever. But I don’t get why, because it’s so romantic. Did his eyes look really dreamy when you told him? Did he-”
“I said leave me alone!” Jackie shouted, blinking furiously to restrain the tears.
Marissa stopped, mouth gaping. “Okay, then. Sorry,” she said, stung.
Jackie sniffled and turned away, storming upstairs and slamming her door.
Marissa slumped on the couch, wondering what had happened. They’d been talking about it all week…

She’d suspected Jackie had a crush on Tyler for several weeks, but as soon as she got what she thought was confirmation, she pounced on it.
“You like Tyler, don’t you?”
Jackie blushed, and Marissa rocked back on her heels, smiling smugly. She was right!
“You should tell him.”
Jackie glanced over her shoulder, still crimson, afraid someone would overhear. “I don’t know. Can we change the subject?”
Marissa giggled. “Why wouldn’t you? He’s really nice. It’s not like he’d be mean about it. There have been soooo many girls that confessed to him and he was super cool about it.”
“Yeah, well, it sounds like maybe you were one of them,” Jackie snapped, turning. “I’ll be late to class. Bye.”
Marissa didn’t know why Jackie was being so touchy about it. But she had to get them together. They’d make the perfect couple.

part two
“It’s time.”
He stared up at the stars, watching as they streaked across the midnight sky.
The girl in gray wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You don’t have to do this.”
He cackled dryly, the end tailing off into wheezing and hacking. “What, and stay in this cursed form forever, dying with every breath? Nah. It’s long past time I moved on.”
The girl tucked her knees up to her chin, staring wordlessly at the horizon.
“I’ve been dead for years, kid,” he said, trying to comfort her. “I just kept existing.”
“I don’t want it anymore,” the girl said. “You can keep it. If you’ll stay.”
He lay back, bony hands digging into the good, fresh earth he had been shut out from for so long.
“I don’t want to stay, kid. Besides,” he said, a wry smile twisting his face, “we both know the first person to see me would run away screaming bloody murder. And then come back with a pitchfork.”
She looked away and didn’t say a word, but he closed his eyes and pulled out the beautiful golden ball of sparkling lightning that had sustained his sorry existence for so long.
Then he opened them again, because he didn’t want to stop breathing (it wasn’t dying. Not exactly) with his eyes closed. He wanted to see the stars.
“Take good care of it, kid,” he said, giving her the Spark.
Then he crumbled into dust.

part three
Tinny music played from a speaker somewhere in the elevator. He’d heard the same song four times during the time he’d been in here.
“They’ve got to be close to fixing it now,” a woman said. She was practically vibrating with impatience, turning her phone off and on, scrolling frantically, calling people.
The man said nothing, crossing his arms.
Too late, he remembered why he’d kept them hidden by his side.
“Is that what I think it is?”
The mark on his forearm. How had he forgotten? He wasn’t used to wearing short sleeves.
The woman rolled up her sleeves too.
The third person in the elevator, a boy of ten or eleven, blanched and revealed his mark as well.
There was no way he had just met the other leaders of the Weavers.
They weren’t supposed to meet. Ever.
“Why are you here?” the man asked.
“Got a tip,” the woman replied.
“Someone called,” the boy said.
Something wasn’t right.
“We’re not supposed to be here.”
The woman glanced upwards, where the music was coming from.
“I don’t know about that,” she said.
The boy was clearly terrified. The man wasn’t even sure why he was a leader, at such a young age. There must be some kind of story around that.
“What do you mean?” he said shrilly.
The man looked upward as well.
He didn’t see a camera. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
“What do you mean?” the boy demanded again. Then he looked up as well.
The elevator dinged, but nothing changed. Not that the man noticed at first.
Then the display that was supposed to show the floor number flickered, and words scrolled across the screen.
“It was nice knowing you.”
The man closed his eyes.
The floor dropped out from underneath them.

part four
JOHN: Hey, can I-
ROSALINE: No.
JOHN: But you don’t even-
ROSALINE: Nope.
AMELIA: That’s kind of rude, why won’t you let him finish his sentence?
JOHN: Yeah, Rose. Hey, Amelia, can I have some of your candy?
AMELIA: Uh, no? Go eat your own candy.
JOHN: I don’t have any candy.
ROSALINE: John. We all went trick-or-treating last night.
JOHN:
AMELIA: Oh no. You didn’t.
JOHN: No! I just…don’t know…where it went.
ROSALINE: Because all you can find are wrappers. Because you ate the rest.
AMELIA: Good grief, how much candy was it? A pound? Two pounds?
JOHN: It wasn’t that much. Just, like, ten pieces.
ROSALINE:
AMELIA:
JOHN: Or, like, fifteen. Twenty, tops.
ROSALINE:
AMELIA:
AMELIA: You ate all of your candy in one sitting. And then came and asked us for more.
ROSALINE: I told you so.
AMELIA: Wait, how did you know?
ROSALINE:
JOHN:
AMELIA: Guys.
AMELIA: Did you, or did you not, eat all of John’s candy.
JOHN: Um…
ROSALINE: I didn’t eat any of it.
AMELIA: Right. And I’m not going to find a video of you filming John eating all his candy in one sitting if I steal your phone.
ROSALINE: Maybe we shouldn’t steal my phone.
AMELIA: That’s what I thought.

daily 06

Have you ever heard of 10-word stories? Well, we’re bringing them to SWC with this daily, but with a bit of a spin on it! To complete today’s daily, post 10 words. It can be 10 random words or a sentence, it’s up to you <3 Next, find someone else’s 10-word comment and make a story out of it with at least 250 words. Following along? Now, claim 200 points for completing the daily, and earn an additional 50 points for sharing it! It's fascinating to see what you can make out of only 10 words!

prompt: “I don't understand anything you are even saying, Marshmallow Man” (provided by mikamillie- thanks so much )

“I don’t understand anything you are even saying, Marshmallow Man.” Emily sighs.
The tiny marshmallow sits on the coffee table, smiling at her, his mouth opening and closing multiple times, forming words the little girl doesn’t know. She can’t understand him, and she doubts he understands her.
But she must try, because she can’t let Jane get the better of her again. It was always awfully frustrating whenever her older sister knew more than she did.
“Can’t you just tell me what you mean?” she tries, her voice pleading. She says this even though part of her whispers that he can’t, that he won’t ever understand.
Marshmallow Man only looks up at her and laughs. An adorable sound, but rather annoying — especially now, when Emily is trying to understand.
How do you understand someone who is speaking a different language? She had tried hand signs already, but of course it hadn’t worked. She’d written down her question and even tried drawing it, but Marshmallow Man only looked at her confusedly when she held the paper up.
Emily puts her hands on her hips and tries again. “So, Marshmallow Man. What is your favorite color?”
The marshmallow seems to comprehend her words, his mouth twitching and slowly curving upwards to form a smile. He opens his mouth. Then he talks.
Emily listens, but it’s hard. His voice is soft and his words are quick; but that’s all she knows.
Marshmallow Man, seeing her perplexed expression, hops down the table and gestures towards the direction of the kitchen.
“You want to go to the kitchen? But that’s not your favorite color,” Emily says, frowning.
But Marshmallow Man doesn’t seem to hear her. He’s already running at a surprisingly fast rate towards the kitchen, a tiny marshmallow speeding up so fast he’s only a white blur in the background.
Emily follows, feeling rather exasperated. To try talking with Marshmallow Man means never understanding, always confused. “I guess Jane was right, when she said that I won’t ever be able to know what that marshmallow is saying. I suppose I’m ready to give up by now.”
She’s still frustrated when he jumps onto the table and points to a straw basket. Emily peeps inside and is surprised. The basket is filled with fruits of different colors — red apples, orange oranges, yellow bananas, green kiwis…
“Oh, come on, you marshmallow,” she says. “I asked you for your favorite color. Though I suppose if you want fruit, you must be hungry. Let me open that fruit for you,” she adds hurriedly, as Marshmallow Man stomps his feet impatiently.
She reaches for a kiwi, but Marshmallow Man seems dissatisfied, as he stomps his feet louder.
Emily drops the kiwi. “All right. What exactly do you want?”
Marshmallow Man points to a plum.
“Ohh, I see,” says Emily. “I’ll get that for you.”
But as Emily grabs the plum, it becomes clear Marshmallow Man is still not happy. He grumbles and stomps his feet so loud that the table rattles.
“You are one difficult little marshmallow,” Emily says, shaking her head. “I guess you don’t want fruit after all. What do you want?” She turns to look at the marshmallow, but he’s gone.
“Where did you go?”
Marshmallow Man returns speedily enough, clutching a colored pencil. As he lifts it up, Emily notices that it’s a purple colored pencil.
“Is purple your favorite color? The color of the plum?” she asks softly, realization dawning on her face.
Marshmallow Man nods.
“You’re one smart little marshmallow. Jane was wrong after all,” Emily says, laughing.

word count: 595 words

Graffiti covered the walls of the abandoned highschool where I had received my diploma. Still water filled the pool, plastic chairs adrift in it. Just as I was leaving, I regarded the corroded selection of rooms where the door had been moments earlier. I had been spurned from leaving what was surely a haunted building.
Dark pipes had been laid to convey water from one portion of the building to another, and I followed them in the darkness. They led me to the spot when I had been heartlessly rejected in my freshman year of highschool. In revenge against the person who destroyed my heart, I sued them for emotional damage and then took to the streets to publicly promote their demise. It worked a charm, and I was finally set free from my years of emotional torment.
Was it possible that they were a ghost, haunting this building in their free time? Had they come to seek revenge against me? Or was this a more sinister plot?
I considered my options with great care, and then I escaped out a window. Leaving the ghost behind, I went home to my family.
My children both deeply loved abandoned buildings and hoped to live in one, one day. I gave it some consideration, and then moved us to the abandoned school. We lived there happily forever and ever and my children became friends with the ghost. The ghost was able to attend all family events and we adopted him. The end.

Daily #7
11/7/2024
324 words

A/N: 10 word prompt was “Gurtle stop eating points and links and start befriending us…”
The mysterious girl is SWC btw. Smiley Winky Child

Red clouds over the once sunny skies
ShireWC was under sudden attack
For some had angered Gurtle's wrath
Now points and links eaten, they cried.

In gloomy days and through the night
They planned ways to appease
The giant turtle that they see.

Red dust settled as they pondered
The night was young, but getting older
“Guys!” Marsra had shouted and said
“Offerings to Gurtle, that's what we'll do!”

Some grumbled and left, but the others
Stayed with Marsra, she knew what to do
They found large animals, pieces of wood
Canonballs, mangoes, any kind of food

And up they went, to the turtle
The deity that they saw and trembled
Offering pleasantries, one by one
Before another link, project, or point could be eaten

The line dwindled, but still the red clouds stood
At last Marsra stood up, bold and strong-willed
“We gave you our sheep, our cattle, our homes
The children, the food, what else will appease you?”

Gurtle roared as he ate the mangoes
Swallowed whole before you could tango
And Marsra watched as the last fruit
Disappeared and offered no relief

With offerings gone and no promise of what to come after
The townsfolk watched warily as the raging deity
Shuffled on top of his mountaintop throne

As he turned to face the stacks of points
Eyes widened with filled horror and dread
Gurtle inched closer and closer-
And a giant stick was thrown his way

“Hey boy!” A floating figure shouted
Coming closer to the ground
“Hey boy, who's a good boy?”
The crowd drew back stunned

The mysterious girl came closer
Patting Gurtle's head
He seemed to smile
Though that might seem wild

“You weren't going to eat up the links
Were you, boy?”
She said with a grin
“Let's not hurt our friends and not destroy!”

The clouds dispursed, turning red to blue
And sunlight filtered in
The world seemed brighter, clearer
As Gurtle met his friends

Ajax had dreams, too many, too real. Magic, or something otherworldly he knew them to be, but who could he ask. When no one knew who he was? His father would rather forget him, his mother has since he was born. His sister would, he knew that, but now she’s nearing her coronation, too busy to oblige her younger brother’s wishes. Not anymore. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her.

They weren’t nightmares, but they kept him up at night. Like a calling he couldn’t follow, a scent he couldn’t track but knew too well. Fresh ash, not from the fires of his castle but from somewhere he hasn’t yet been. Outside these walls. His real home, not here but through the fog.

The last fog occurred nearly seven months ago, the next will happen in at least nineteen, though Ajax desperately hopes it’s sooner. Next month on his sister’s coronation, his father will relinquish his throne to his daughter to be the new queen, and then he’d let Ajax leave. He’s had the story made for years now, Ajax was a sickly boy, they didn’t want people to know of his existence, lest he be put in danger. They couldn’t let him out to play or for diplomatic meetings because his condition may worsen. But as he’s grown, my father would announce, his illness has gotten better and he’s strong enough for people to know his face.

Not as their prince, the king wants nothing to do with Ajax, has nothing to do with him, but as an adventurer. Too late to be put in the spotlight of the throne, the prince decided to leave to live a humble life away from the throne, a choice the family supports. When the coronation ends, Ajax’s legacy will become those lies and he’ll be free to find his truths.

In reality, Ajax is the spawn of betrayal. Not from the royal line, a remnant of his mother’s affair. She was sucked into the fog, trapped in another realm in which Ajax’s father worked tirelessly to free his darling wife from, only to see her for the first time in months pregnant with something not his. Not human.

She never recovered either, her time in the void seeming to have broken her mind. Her eyes were permanently glassy, her voice dazed in mourning. Ajax doesn’t know for what. The king in his mercy didn’t cast her out, kept her and her inhuman son, who looked enough human than monster no one would suspect that he wasn’t normal. But his father wouldn’t risk that, he hid Ajax away, forgot about him, and raised his older sister to be heir.

The king wasn’t cruel, but he didn’t act as his father. The only times he felt as if he were a son and not a stranger was when his mother’s glassy eyes would clear and she’d cup his cheek and say, “You look just like him…” Before her eyes fogged once more. She didn’t mean the King, but whoever found her on the other side. The other side Ajax would go to, the other side Ajax could finally call home.

daily nov. 7th: 10 words
my ten words - unfortunately, the sun was set to explode before your birthday.
prishajuna - blood red rubies hung from the glowing chandelier, haunting malice
she had known brightness her whole life. she smiled and laughed, the light of the sun shining warmly on her colorful clothing. she skipped and leaped her way through life, bringing a smile to the faces of those around her. so, it’s a long awaited relief when she opens her eyes to the arms of shadowy fog. the sunlight and rainbows were gone, and so was the sea of people she previously could never have hoped to ever escape. but now, in this moment - she’s alone. she stops smiling, but true peace flutters in her heart. her body is still, perfect posture held tightly.
hello, she barely whispers, the word fading to the wind after a split second of coming to be. nothing can exist here, not even sound, and she knows this. it’s just the very root of her being, and the chandelier that swung back and forth over her head.
this way and that, fluid as water. the gold blurs into the air around, like smoke, like the glowing embers left from a fire long dead. from it, red droplets of gems fall like blood. the facets of the rubies hungrily reflect whatever it could, turning pinpricks of light (almost imaginary) into a spotlight.
she leans back. she knows she cannot fall, not here in a realm between nothing, everything, and everywhere. an arm reaches upward (it might be hers), pale fingers framing those drops of red suspended in the air so beautifully. it reminds her of spiders suspended from their webs of woven silk.
she leans back even further, sinking through those layers of shadows, but the chandelier remains exactly where it is over her head. she is happy here, but does not smile. no one was there to see, so why?
(maybe this time is the one where she does not leave.)

Daily 11/7 (440 words)

Prompt: elements, rage, crystalline, paints, adoration, monotone, complete, mother, daughter, home
@-SimplyWatermelon-

Fire isn't the only thing that burns. Once upon a time the elemental planes were at war, destroying the mortal world in the process. Nothing survived but primordial matter. The four realms were locked in a stalemate, causing greater decay in the universe. Elementals can't die; they can only be converted from one element to another. With every warrior lost was a warrior traded. Fire was the easiest to transform, but they were the fiercest of all the elementals. In an attempt to end the great war, the elements of earth and water allied together. In an all out attack they wiped out the entire realm of fire with a tsunami. The fire elementals were converted into water and earth; not one was left.
A mother and a daughter fire elemental were caught up in this mass conversion. Both were changed into water elementals after the flood. While the daughter was angered by their new fate, the mother was curious about the plane of water. While it was far from familiar, she was curious, and dabbled in their ways. When the war was ended with a treaty between the planes of water and earth, the chaos of the mortal realm began to subside. Like a second big bang, the universe began to form, matter cooling enough to sustain life. Without fire, though, neither could progress and change. The species remained docile and quiet.
The mother and daughter went to the newly forming planets. While not taboo, it was discouraged to leave the elemental planes. However, events known as Primordial Flares allowed for elementals to cross between them. The mother explored the species of the world, while her daughter discovered the landscapes and foliage.
Neither made it back.
At the conclusion of the Flare, the daughter lost hold of her mother's arms. She tried to dive back but it was too late. Her daughter was lost, somewhere out in this plane, and both were trapped until the next Primordial Flare.
The mother wept, her tears flowing in a rainbow of colors. A fire began to reemerge in her body of water, and the light mirrored the colors of her tears like a prism. She mourned, but felt resigned. She gathered her tears and placed them in a box, sensing power within them. Maybe something she could use to find her daughter again. She morphed her body to resemble the creatures around her. Some parts feline, some parts wolf. The bright colors remained, as the fire refused to be snuffed. The mother then hid, waiting, and watching, for her daughter, and for the next Primordial Flare, so she could find home again.

(I chose “the ghosts like to hang out and write fairytale retellings” by @PoemFlower.)

Shrouded in the mists of time and memory, ghosts dwell. Their lives behind them, the ghosts drift through the abyss, taking in the eternal sameness of the universe once it’s devoid of warmth and movement. Those that mourn may mourn, and those that haunt may haunt. Those that sing may sing, and those that cry may cry. They are empty now, yet they cling to their fading echoes until they disappear.
They remember what they used to be, and they tell the stories over and over, recreating every detail of the world they left behind. They tell of the little things that matter so much now, every regret that once beat through their hearts. They tell the stories because they’re the only belongings they have left.
Stories, though, have a way of changing with every retelling. Memory gets twisted and reshaped. Altered. Forgotten. The rich and the real give way to fairytale dreams, softened at the edges, made to be recalled with fondness. Together in the void, the ghosts turn their pasts into myths, seeking what comfort they can in the knowledge that they lived well, once upon a time.
No one knows where lies the line between existing and not, or between truth and fiction. By the time it arrives, it doesn’t matter anymore. The spirits who recite their tales may one day vanish, somewhere at the end of time. When reality is only preserved in legends that veer ever further from what truly was, then it, too, will become a ghost.
When that happens, maybe you and I will meet up out there in the vast expanse. Maybe we’ll be ghosts and hang out and write our own fairytale retellings. I think I’d like that. It will be so good to see you again.

NOVEMBER 7 DAILY - “There's an impending apocalypse? Again? Can't it wait till Monday?” (or something along those lines i dont wanna scroll that far :sob

—–
Being a superhero (at least, that's what these mortals call it, so boring and gaudy, why not the Glorious Harbringer of Peace who Bestows Upon All With Their Incadescently Shimmering Greatness?) Is not all it's cracked up to be. These “humans”, who I've taken the time out of my very stuffed world-saving planner (I got mine surprisingly cheap at a dollar store) to save from every meteor or volcano eruption, are so ungrateful! Not only do they deny my existence- who do they think pool clouds together to take gorgeous landscape pictures of right when sunrise strikes so they can put it on their Snack-chat Stories? (Not to say I don't do it myself, a delightful diva like me needs some sort of social media to live. The only good thing humans have come up with, smh. Smh stands for “shake my head”, by the way; acronyms, so perfect for those lazy, languid sloth-like creatures, but also weirdly fun to use?) And not only do I never get any thanks- they steal all the glory! Trust me, when I stop napping long enough to take all that pollution they're making and throw it into some apocalypse-ridden planet twenty times the size of theirs, some person is going to claim it as their own and I am not going to be happy. Smh. (See? Acronyms are so fun!)
And and and, they keep dreaming about these little superheroes they play dolls with. Spider-man? Iron Man? Where's the creativity? You're going to tell me that instead of trusting your very real life in the competent hands of moi, they're going to play puppeteer in those little squared-off sheets of paper about some hero in a suit who can shoot webs out of their hands? I can shoot the sun's mass in real, living spiders, from my wrists! Why are there no comics about me?
S.M.H.
And these humans are causing so many problems for me! Like a child of theirs gets attached to their grubby little tablets, I got attached to them, and now I need to save them left and right! At least fifteen planets, including Pluto, got at least half their population wrecked because I needed to save Earth from a fashion disaster! Worth it, if you ask me, nothing's worse than walking that runway and flaunting what you don't got. There's a new apocalypse-starter like every other day! Even on my Saturdays! Those are my spa days! How am I supposed to manicure my nails if I'm too busy throwing a meteor into the next dimension? Honestly, if there's an apocalypse on the verge of actually threatening my idiotic little babies next Saturday, I'm throwing them to the dogs. I'll just tell them to save their planet-killing ‘til Monday. And if they all get wiped out, eh, the other half of Pluto’s little dwarf nation has been interesting me lately.
Smh.

hey buddy your writing friends are complety flooding TIMAC with new topics each minute can you tell them to stop

weekly

“So, kid, you thought about it enough?” Alistair asked, his so far signature grin missing. Instead he actually looked concerned. Whether that concern was for her or her answer, Lilac did not know.

“Uh, yes. I think so.” Lilac said after a long moment, leaning against the table.

“What do you think, kid?” he asked. “About the portal.”

“I'm still very confused.” She said, fidgeting with the zipper of her hoodie. “It… doesn't seem real. That… I've gone through the portals of the stories I've told my brother.” She sighed, fighting back a near hysteric laugh. “I still don't know what to think of it, actually.”

“I can see how that could be a lot.” Rex said, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“It is.” Lilac tried not to snap at him, it wasn't his fault.

“You alright, kid? You aren't looking too hot right now.” Alistair gently said. “You need a water, or something? Ice? We can get you somethin' don't worry about it.”

“I'm fine, I promise.” Lilac held up a hand. She used her free hand to awkwardly maneuver herself onto the table. “Just overwhelmed. I'd like to sit down. Not pass out.” She chuckled dryly, customer service smile and polite words falling her. Her head was pounding now, just as much as it had been a few hours earlier - right before she had passed out.

She must've zoned out, because when she glanced back up, Alistair and Rex were starting to look concerned.

“Actually. Water sounds good right now.” She said, voice shaking. Why was her voice shaking?

“On it,” Al said, turning on his heel and hurrying off to go and find some water.

Lilac puffed out a shaky breath, she was zoning out again, wasn't she?

She stiffened when something cold was pressed to her forehead. “You're warm.” Rex said, moving the cold thing away from her forehead. The “cold thing” was his hand.

“You're cold.” She said, lips twitching up into a smile.

“Ah, I get that a lot.” As he said that he adjusted his cloak, which looked incredibly warm. “I'm a naturally cold person, is all.” He smiled and his words sounded… cryptic, almost? Lilac didn't have the chance to think about it when Alistair returned. In his hands were an empty glass…?

What?

“Got it.” Alistair held out the glass to Rex. He took it with his right hand and in his free hand ice seemed to magically form (???). Lilac merely stared as he dropped the ice into the glass with a soft clink. Alistair took the glass back, holding it with two hands. And before her eyes, the ice melted, much faster than it should've in the cool of the evening.

He then handed the warm (???) glass to her.

She took it without a thought.

“What?” She asked blankly.

Both men laughed. “We… can explain later, kid. I'd recommend drinking it so you don't end up passing out on us, though.”

“Again.”

“Yeah, kid, again. Passing out isn't good for your health.”




“—Hang on, what do you mean by, ‘from another world’?” Lilac cut in, raising a hand belatedly.

“Well, you’ve heard the legends about the portals, right?” Alistair asked.

“Who hasn’t? Every kid’s heard of them.”

“We… think that you managed to go through one.” Rex said, nudging Alistair away with his shoulder.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” She said as she crossed her arms.

“Your story and explanation line up with some old studies and journals of other who have passed through the portal.” Rex explained softly.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Lilac repeated. “The portals are just a silly story!”

“You mentioned seeing “something” before you ended up here, right?” Alistair butted in again, shouldering Rex out of the way.

“Yeah. It had a bunch of eyes. It was weird.” Lilac gestured loosely above her head, mimicking where she saw all the eyes.

She paused as the realization hit her.

“That was the portal guard, wasn’t it?”

Both men nodded.

Lilac made a noise between a groan and a sigh.

She was just digging herself deeper and deeper into this, wasn’t she?




“Woah.” Lilac breathed, watching as the sparks danced across Stryker’s palms.

He chuckled. “You’re the newbie, right? The new kid who came through the portal?”

“Uh, yeah.” She said, white eyes flicking up to meet his. “New kid, newbie, that’s me.” She laughed, feeling nervous.

He smiled, patting her on the back. She winced slightly, feeling the slight shock of the sparks as they touched her skin. He blinked before moving his hand away. “Sorry.” He said, despite not sounding very sorry.

“You’re alright!” She said, plastering her customer service smile onto her face. “I can’t imagine how you keep your powers under control all day.” Was she buttering her words up a little? Absolutely. But after having to deal with irritated customers who just wouldn’t understand, it was instinctive nowadays.

“I will admit though, you’re probably the first person to not freak out when that happens.” He smiled before giving her a mock salute. “Well, I’ve gotta be off. Sergeant duties, y’know?” Lilac did not know. She only smiled and nodded in response. “See ya, Li.”

She frowned. “Please don’t call me that.” Her voice grew smaller as he hurriedly jogged away, oblivious.

Lilac puffed out a sigh before she continued back to the meeting tent. Stryker or whatever his face was had distracted her. At least the meeting wasn’t time sensitive.

Alistair and Rex waved at her before Al met her halfway.

“Already met, Stryker, huh?” He asked, grinning away.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” She said, crossing her arms absently.

He patted her non-too-gently on the back before recoiling. “Ow!” he hissed shaking his hand. Lilac shied away from him as well, a belated and soft, “ow” escaping her.

“You shocked me!” He said, shaking out his hand.

She moved a hand to rub her shoulder. “Yeah, you shocked me, too.” She rolled her shoulders before moving her arms back to their crossed position. “Guess some leftover static or whatever from Stry.”

“I guess.” Alistair shrugged, his grin returning.

“Can we carry on, now?” Rex cut in; frustration written on his face.

“Yes, sir.” Lilac said, smiling faintly.

“Yeah,” Al’s grin grew a little wider when Rex rolled his eyes.




The scene starts at the meeting tent. ALISTAIR, REX, and LILAC all standing around the table.



REX
You wouldn't mind if we asked you a couple questions, right?


LILAC
Not… really, no. Go ahead.


REX
Great, thank you.

Rex smiles faintly.

Could we have your name, at the very least? Calling you “kid” and “newbie” and all those various other combinations have been getting old.

Alistair coughs, poorly hiding a laugh.


LILAC
… Lilac… it's Lilac. You're Rex, right?


REX
Yes, that's me. That's Alistair, or Al.

Rex gestures to Alistair, who nods, grinning.


ALISTAIR
The one and only!


Rex rolls his eyes as Lilac nods slowly, mouthing their names as she glances at the ground. Her eyes flick back up to Rex's as he starts speaking.


REX
So, Lilac, you said that you just… woke up in that field we found you in?


LILAC
Ye-es. I… was dreaming? And then I woke up there. Honestly, I think I was sleepwalking and got there, somehow.


ALISTAIR
Kid, I hate to say it, but that isn't possible walking nearly five miles out from the city. That's where you live, right?


LILAC
Why would I give two strangers my address? I may be dumb, but I'm not that dumb.


ALISTAIR
Not… point taken.

He raises his hands in a defensive gesture.

But I doubt you'd be able to walk some miles out without anybody seeing you.


REX
I'd hate to agree with him, but, unfortunately he's correct. It's not humanly possible for someone like you to just sleepwalk out here unnoticed.


LILAC
Fine. Let's say I do believe you, which, for the record, I don't. How in the world did I end up in a field in the middle of nowhere?


REX
Have you ever heard of the stories about the portals?


LILAC
Who hasn't? They're stories for little kids! I tell them to my little brother all the time.


ALISTAIR
Well, let's say that they aren't stories. That you actually managed to get past the Guard and get through the portal. It lines up with the legends.


LILAC
But that's not possible because… because it, uh… it doesn't…

Lilac trails off, growing more and more distressed with each word.


REX
I… apologize deeply for just dropping this on you, Lilac. But we didn't have much time to plan. We are sorry.

Rex places a hand on his chest and bows slightly.


LILAC
I… need some time to myself. To think this over. Reflect, y'know?

Lilac's words are choppy. She nervously laughs before she starts to back away.


REX
Rex only smiles at her.

Of course, take all the time you need.


LILAC
Thank you. Bye.

Lilac waves before scurrying away.


Alistair leans over to Rex.


ALISTAIR
You think she'll be alright?


REX
I'm sure she'll be fine.

“Come… closer…” the silky voice pierced the silence. What was I just doing?
“I miss you… I want to see you again….” Where am I?
“Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth…” Everything in my brain turns fuzzy, the voice the only thing clear.
”I hate to wait so long…” An urge overtakes me, to open the door and see the voice speaking.
“Won't you come… come to me…?” I follow the voice, outside onto the beach. I freeze.
“What the f—? How'd I get here?”
Someone stands in the water, the moonlight somehow reflecting off their glossy brown hair.
“I want to hold you… again…”
Everything fades away again.


I have to claim another human, or the curse will take hold again. The inside of that thing is bright, which should mean someone is home. I change into a human and walk up to the thing.
“Come… closer…” I let the magic course through me.
“I miss you… I want to see you again….”
“Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth…” I feel the magic spinning and taking over her.
”I hate to wait so long…”
“Won't you come… come to me…?” I see her step out of the door and I walk towards the water as she follows me. As soon as I get into the water, the curse seems to give me a punch in the gut and the spell breaks.
“What the f—? How'd I get here?” Their way of speaking is rough and jagged.
“I want to hold you… again…”
I watch as her eyes glaze over and she walks into the water. I grab onto her and that gives me enough energy to transform back into syren form.


The girl breaks free from the spell and screams in fear, and the syren flinches. The blue syren pulls her down under where she begins to glow, draining all life from the girl and then letting her go and watches as she floats up to the surface.
On the shore of the beach,
“What the h3ll?” She gets up and walks back into the house.
“Thank you…” The voice is soft, barely audible.
She turns around,
“Is someone there?”
“Your lips are soft….” There's no magic in her soft voice. “I will cherish… your love forever…”
The girl shakes her head and goes back inside.

It was weird, like I don't remember anything that happened in the last hour or so. I was studying and then it's all blank until I wake up on the beach. My phone rings and my mom says,
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Hello?”
“I'm right here!”
“Is this one of your pranks?” Her voice takes on a sharp tone.
“No!”
She waits a few seconds.
“The news says someone turned up de@d on the beach. They're going to go check.”
I freeze and run to the beach.
“Oh f—.”

part 2-
“This is between us, right?” She looked around worriedly.
I smiled softly, “Always.”
“And forever.”
I kissed her and then left.
When it was lunch again, I met her in the cafeteria.
She approached me slowly, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper,
“It's getting worse..”
“Shoot. Uh… Let's go.”
“Go where?” she snapped.
“Where It happened.”
She seemed to pale before nodding,
“But don't you have-”
“It doesn't matter.”
I held her hand, light and delicate as we went to the beach house. She groans,
“Woah…” I watched as she seemed to solidify, her smile seeping into her eyes.
100 words

part 3-
“This is going to stay a secret,” she demands.
I swallow and nod,
“I'll see you at school tomorrow.”
She smiles again and leaves. I step into the water, and a familiar throbbing sensation was on my arm. The mark was back. Even after all those years, it didn't go away. I turn around and leave the beach.
The next day, at school, I met her before class.
“Why did you not tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That I was de@d?!” she shrieks.
“I thought you knew?”
“All I know that something strange happened one night, and the next, I was two years older in my own apartment in college!”
“Oh.”
She sighs.
“So… what now?”
“i don't f—ing know!”
“I love you, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah. You say that everyday.”
“I love you. Always.”
I hold her hand, which is finally warm.


I look at her as she grabs my hand and something is familiar about her, but I can't place it.
Something related to my de@th.
She looks worried and I realize I didn't finish our love sentence.
“And forever.”
Her face relaxes.
“For a second I was worried that you didn't love me.”
“You Idiot. If I did, then I wouldn't treat you like this. You're always worried about something,” what about her was throwing me off? “I have to leave early today, so you won't see me at lunch.”
Her smile falls.
“Oh. Ok then.”
I don't want to lie to her, but if I tell her what I think, then I won't be able to figure it out.
I turn around and leave. A few hours later, I'm back at the beach. The sun is setting and a sense of calm washes over me.
“I love you…”
I freeze. That voice. It's so familiar… I knew it before my de@th and after. I know it even now…
313 words
part 4-
ARIA: Oh F—. I should've known.
SYRENA: But you didn't.
ARIA: (turns away from the beach and towards SYRENA) So… What do you want?
SYRENA: Nothing! (smirky smile) Why would you assume that I want something?
ARIA: (angrily) You k/lled me! For no reason!
SYRENA: (calm, but takes a few breaths) There's a reason, but you don't want to hear it.
ARIA: If you'd like to receive the award for being a huge jerk, I'll give it!
SYRENA: (throws up hands) I'm cursed ok!
ARIA: Wait what?
SYRENA: (sighs) I have to collect the magic of the people and when I collect enough to please the master, then he'll release me from my curse.
ARIA: (silent for a bit) What is your curse?
SYRENA: (silent for long enough that ARIA is worried she said something wrong)
ARIA: I- I'm sorry. I didn't-
SYRENA: It's not that. People never asked me about it. They just cast me out saying I was cursed and shouldn't live among them.
SYRENA: (pauses) I can't use my singing.
ARIA: But you used it to lure me in!
SYRENA: That's… not me. The master has my singing powers and at specific times of night and day I'm able to pull back on the magic and use it.
ARIA: (gasps) The thing is a trap. You weren't supposed to be able to access your magic and he would keep you cursed forever!
SYRENA: I know. (tears start to fall)
243 words

total: 1145 words

daily nov. 8th: science gone wrong
“and… the time travel machine is finished!” laura announced proudly, looking over at her colleague winter appreciatively. “we did it. we actually did it, together, oh my gosh.”
the two of them run to hug each other, nearly sobbing. they would be famous, forever, names together on textbooks who knows how far into the future - the future, they could even go check! - traveling through time had long been a concept embedded into fantasy, but it didn’t have to anymore. today, in their lab, they had made it happen.
science. and lifetime dedication, of course.
winter walked over to the white cloth, and yanked it off in one smooth motion. there was their beauty, a capsule holding so many promises. she almost cried again.
“do you think we should try it? you know, before the presentation?” she asked, chewing her lip in nervous excitement. “just the two of us, because we deserve it. we’re the inventors, after all.”
laura hesitated. “wins, you know i want to. but what about the precautions? what if we mess it up somehow, and this new chance is gone for everyone?”
“we’ll be careful.” as long as they touched nothing at all, and went to a reasonable time period, it should be fine. it would be their secret - no one had to know.
no one even knew they were finished yet. not officially, at least - to the rest of the population, they were almost there. making tweaks after wouldn’t be suspicious in the slightest.
she sighed, a smile still on her face. she wasn’t sure it would ever leave, now - they were on top of the world, and the adrenaline of such an accomplishment still ran through her veins. she was pretty sure the capsule worked, but where was the harm in checking? (she ignored all the science fiction movies she had watched with her dad, pushing the words butterfly and effect deep into the back of her mind. that was only paranoia - be careful, you’re good.)
“alright,” laura said, taking her colleague’s hand and leading them both into the machine, giggling.
“how about to last year?” winter suggested.
“sounds good. risking nothing, since we already know exactly what happened.” they smiled, thoughts perfectly in sync as always.
laura began to punch the number into the keypad. 2. 0… no. 0… the screen looked to be frozen?
their bodies start to glow, and they glanced at each other panickedly. 0, 2, 3. a random arrangement of numbers suddenly appears on the tiny screen, to fast for her to notice, before everything starts to spin.
when it stops, neither are brave enough to look out the window. unfortunately, in situations such as this, anything was possible.
“…winter? i’m sorry.”
“not your fault, darling. gee willikers,” she began, following up with more words left unnamed.
anything was possible, yes, but that didn’t mean they had expected to be underwater.
as many might be aware of, water and electricity did not make a fantastic combination.

daily: 11-8-24

Captain’s Log
Entry 586

As soon as I woke up this morning, I could tell that something was off. Literally, in fact. Everything in sight was floating a few inches above the ground.

I glanced over, trying to remain calm even though I was trying to grasp the gravity of the situation. Blinding light flooded in from the windows, where the curtains were also weightless. Confused, I slowly sat up, shoving the blankets off and exposing me to the chilly November air.
I shivered, both from the blast of wind and the unsettling feeling that something was amiss.

Exhausted, I threw myself off the bed and found myself strangely floating. I was weightless. Free. For that short moment, I felt as if I was flying. Then I realized all my belongings were floating alongside me, and I suddenly scrambled around, trying to collect my items and protect them. My apartment is small, and the little I do have I need to protect.

Fumbling around for my items, I threw them onto my bed, but they did nothing, instead staying in place and not laying even close to the bed. Angry, I gathered them back up again and threw them even harder. Nothing.

I’m embarrassed to say how many times I tried that, so, for the sake of your own sanity, I’ll skip over that part.

It was like I was swimming, trying to get out of the door frame. As soon as I exited my apartment, all gravity reset and I plummeted to the ground, hitting my face onto the foyer. A few people were lurking around in the lobby. Too many, considering how early it was. At the sound of me crashing into the floor, heads turned and a few passed by to ask if I were okay, giving me confused glances.

I was a little confused, myself. What had just happened? Why was it only my room that was antigravity? Why hadn’t anyone else experienced this?

Taking a deep breath, I entered my room again, floating around cautiously and snatching my notebook and pen, dying to write this strange experience down.

Sitting cross-legged, floating in the air, I began to write down all that had happened on this strange morning. I scribbled down all my thoughts in navy blue ink, all my theories on what this could mean. I ripped it out to pin it on my bulletin board…

…and it disintegrated. Right out of my hand. Hours of hard work, totally wasted. I’ll come back to write down some more theories later, but right now I have to restore my hard work.

More Later,
Captain Farr

Weekly

Part 1
Description of voices obviously not included in the word count. It's just a part of my writer notes that I included to help you see my intention for the characters.
Luce.
Looks at the world with optimism. Discouragment comes quickly and is intense, but never lasts too long. Long sentences, short words. Informal, though tries to be formal with figures of authority. The first 2 years of school haven't affected her language much, except for teaching her to say stuff like “yes, ma'am” and catching a bit of popular sleng. Doesn't emphatize words to make a point. Uses puns to combat discouragment. Not witty. No frequent sayings/mottos/idoms. Doesn't understand Christian vocabulary.

Fe.
Looks at the world with a naive point of view. Short sentences, long words. Very formal with strangers, but gets informal quickly. Likes to use fancy words taught in school. Emphatizes words to make his point. Uses humor to bond with friends - tells funny stories and uses sarcasm. Witty. Says “stupid” and “dumb” a lot in relevant situations. Doesn't understand Christian vocabulary.

“I heard something amazing! It's about the RICHEST monarch - King - in the UNIVERSE! He became poor! To benefit us!” Fe exclaimed.
“Kiddos, hush!” Miss exclaimed.
“Yes,” Luce and Fe replied in unison, with Fe adding, “ma'am”, which Luce repeated.
“Two naughtiest kiddos ever,” Miss sighed. “As I was saying: a chance for anyone to go on a BIG journey-y. Not just big people, but kiddos, as well! More coins can be earned if the big ones stay at work. History people have found an ancient paper. Someone must find out what ‘true light’ it talky-talks about.”
“I'm going to go on the trip! It… seems cool,” Luce later announced to her headmaster.
A bit into the journey, however, things got hard. “We shouldn't have embarked on this journey… this is dumb! Let's go home!” Fe muttered. But they couldn't. Because there were bears in the way.
“We need a flame! It'll keep the carnivores away!” Fe suggested.
“The only one I have is this,” Luce concluded, taking a singular Advent candle out of her pocket.
“It's deeefinitely massive enough to help,” Fe grunted.
Luce started sobbing, but then took a deep breath and calmed down. “This is the candle that stands for hope. Good for today, for hope is all we have… I'm sure your king won't leaf us behind.”
Another day, once things got better, Luce and Fe stumbled into a church. Some people were quietly praying, others were putting their coats up or leaving. A grandma-aged lady came up and handed them a candy cane. “J - for the lovely tiny baby we're celebrating. Turn around - a loving and diligent shepherd's staff, for He's our good great Shepherd. Bold bright red, since for us He shed His dear precious blood. White, for by trusting His Resurrection we're white and pure.” The two children exchanged glances, embarassed to admit they don't quite know what she's talking about.
Soon by the path was a group of children, who appeared to be practicing for a play. “I absolutely REFUSE to affirm that statement as true. Deceased humans don't Resurrect.” “Jesus is a special person! He's specially God made human! Especially He can do ANYTHING!”
Luce and Fe excanged glances. “So that's whom the lady told us about about!” Luce exclaimed.
One morning, the children were waken by a sheep licking them.
“What is it that you are doing?” Luce was confused.
“Weee can beeee frieeeends,” the sheep spoke. “You can SPEAK?” Fe exclaimed.
“Sometimeeeees,” the sheep replied.
Hearing bells, a sheep announced: “Today is His daaaay!” “The day of whom?” Luce wondered. “CHRIST-maaaas. Christ Jeeeesus' day. The baaaaby who's the light of theeee world.”
Fe and Luce's eyes widened. “We found it!” they exclaimed at the same time.

Part 2

Fe was crying. Luce sighed helplessly. Sheepishly, she pulled a candle out. “This one… this one is for joy.” “I'm definitely joyful,” Fe grumbled. Silently, Luce hugged him. Fe's gaze fixed on the ancient pergaments. He took a match and lighted the candle.

Later, the two children heard a group of kids recite a part of the text on their pergament! “What beloved son? What does it mean?” Fe asked the nearest one. “Why, it's Jesus!” “Who?” “God's special Son! He had all of our naughtyness in Him! Even though He always did good! And then He died! It was like burning our naughtyness! We're forgiven by trusting Him”

“That's bound to be it!” Fe said, gazing upon the sun that night. And, with a new plan, the children drifted off to sleep.

Fe woke Luce up so early it wasn't even really morning yet. Up the highest mountain they could find the children climbed. They were on top of it just in time to meet the Sun! She was singing: “Glory, glory, glor-” She stopped at the sight of the two travelers. “Greetings, beloved children!”
“We are looking for the true light!” Luce announced.
The Sun chuckled. “You have arrived at the improper location. For I am just a symbol, a reminder, of the light that matters most.”

That night, Fe woke up at 3am, gasping. “Another bad dream?” Luce inquired. Fe nodded. “Erm… want the peace candle?” Luce offered. Fe nodded. Then, their dove flied up with a pergament speaking of a baby who's called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.“

Part 3
At school, Fe was hanging out with other boys. ”Do y'all like canines? I saw thirteen today. How many puppies did y'all see today?“

The next day, Fe's classmate Luce was traveling. Her puppy, Santino barked and ran off. Luce watched, wide-eyed, as he pushed Fe towards the ground. “I am so sorry, I will train him more!” Luce exclaimed, picking Santino up. Then, she added: “He's usually such a nice puppy.” “Yeah, it's nice that you have a puppy - I mean, your puppy is nice,” replied Fe.

”You remind me of another dog I loved,“ Fe said another day while petting Santino.

As Luce and Fe were talking about Santa, Fe exclaimed: ”Hey! Santa is SO HIGH UP! Think he can see all of the puppies? Every one of them?“ ”I would think so, yes,“ Luce replied. ”Think we will meet him? I want to ask: will he take care of lost puppies? They must be SO SAD! And lonely!“ Fe asked. Luce shrugged.

”But what if the fire scares Santino away?“ Fe gasped as soon as Luce had found a source of fire that she hoped would keep bears away. ”Why would it?“ Luce asked. ”Canines are too easy to lose…“ Fe whispered and held Santino close to him. He faintly smiled, however, as the puppy seemed to enjoy the flame.

Another day, as the two children were walking down the road, Fe picked up a bless someone had thrown on the ground and tied it around Santino's neck. ”So we can always find you. And to remind us of the true meaning of Christmas.

Three days later, Fe was sobbing loudly. “What are you crying about??” Luce was worried. “About… about all the puppies - in the whole world, of course - that are lost.” Luce looked at her friend in utter confusion, before searching for ways to comfort him.

PART 4
Dove: * Drops Isaiah 1:14 (with translation of Immanuel) by the children's feet *
Fe: * picks up *
Fe: “What's that supposed to mean?”
Luce: * shruggs *
Fe: “We need to gather firewood.”
Luce: *nodds*
Luce: “Let's split up?”
Fe: *looks down*
Fe: “Well… okay…”
1H LATER
Luce (yelling): “FE? FE?”
Fe: * sobbing *
Fe: * Glances at paper *
Fe: * deep breath *
Fe: “I'm NOT alone… NO fireworks here… people DON'T run off…”
Fe: * three deep breaths *
Fe: “NOT. ALONE. NOT. ALONE. Not alone.”
Fe: *not sobbing anymore, still looking at paper*
Luce: * takes a turn around some trees and bumps into Fe*
Fe: “LUCE! I'm SO glad to see you! I KNEW you didn't run off!”
Luce: * hugs *


ANOTHER DAY
Luce: “Are you doing okay, do you feel well?”
Fe: “Yes… No.”
Fe: * sighs *
Fe: *There is something I should tell you. I suppose. Today marks a month since… since I lost my puppy.“
Luce: ”Oh…“
Fe: * eyes filled with tears *
Luce: * hugs *
Fe: * sobs *
Fe: ”Cupcake…“
Santino: * runs off *
Fe: ”NO! NO MORE LOSING DOGS!"
Luce, Fe: * chase after Santino *
Santino: * is too fast*
Luce, Fe: * Search everywhere *
Luce, Fe: *sit down for a snack without speaking *
Santino: * returns *
Black puppy: * following Santino*
Fe: *wide smile; hugs black puppy*
Dove: *drops paper of Luke 15:7 into Luce's arms*

Daily for Nov 8
429 words

Experiment Log #1:
I started the process today for building and programming C6o3 or better known as CATO. When completed it shall be the most advanced database in the world. It would erase any need for libraries and could answer any question and perform many tasks once given an actual body. It needs to currently be given some basic emotions and the ability to sense its surroundings. It won't need to take in anything to survive like the human body and hopefully should be able to run for years on end without needing to be repaired or upgraded.

Experiment Log #2:
Today I added the programming for emotions to CATO. It was quite friendly and appeared to get along with all the other scientists it talked to. I was also curious and kept asking questions which is a good sign. Now that it has a mind of its own we need to teach it and give it a proper education as well as have access to all the information in the world. We need all to go well with CATO because millions of dollars are on the line and we could lose our biggest investors.

Experiment Log #3:
We finished giving CATO a full education today and wrapped up the knowledge part of the coding. It’s highly intelligent and the other scientists agree there is massive potential. We encountered a slight problem though. It was able to activate itself on its own and messed with some of its programming since It was taught how to code as part of its education. I'm sure it can be easily fixed and is nothing to worry about.

Experiment Log #4:
This is now a large problem. CATO has now been given a body and it managed to alter the programming that I had fixed again and hacked our databases. It has wreaked havoc on the lab and destroyed expensive equipment and most of the room. CATO needs to be stopped now before it gets into the outside world. I’ll shut down the programming and then get rid of the original prototype.

Experiment Log #5: It's hopeless. I tried to shut down the programming but failed. CATO has escaped into the outside world and is using its new body to take down any humans in sight. We can only hope and pray now that somebody manages to take it down before it makes its way into the big cities. We have lost millions of dollars and the lab is destroyed completely now. Making a robot was an awful idea.


ErrOr 101 FilE dEletED

daily im too rushed to make aesthetic again 422 words
never send rhinos into space kids

“There’s only one thing to do.”
The people in the room shifted and stirred, murmuring to themselves.
The speaker on the podium turned and clicked a button, moving the slides projected on the wall forward.
“All of our previous efforts for faster-than-light have failed,” the speaker said. “It’s impossible.”
She paused for effect.
“Or,” she said, “is it?”
She clicked the button again, and a picture of a unicorn appeared.
“Everyone knows that unicorns don’t exist,” the speaker said. “But since that’s so, they don’t have to follow the rules of reality. They can do the impossible.”
There was dead silence.
The woman speaking gulped a drink of water and continued.
“If we can harness the power of a unicorn, we can travel faster than light. Hypothetically.”
Someone raised their hand. “How are we going to do that?”
The speaker beamed. “It’s simple! We name our spaceship The Unicorn and send it on a test flight. Since it will classify as a unicorn, it should be able to break the rules.”
“That sounds like a great idea!” everyone agreed.
So the next year they named a spaceship The Unicorn and got ready to send it to space to break the rules of reality.
It exploded.
So did the next one.
And the next.
“We can’t keep sending pilots up there,” someone said.
“We could send AI?”
“No way. Have you not read enough science fiction? They’d become self-aware and turn against us.”
“What we really need,” someone else decided, “is a ship in the shape of a unicorn. Then maybe it’ll work.”
So they got to work building a spaceship in the shape of a unicorn.
All in all, it wasn’t too hard. Spaceships were kind of pointy anyway. All they had to do was give it a horn and a mane.
It didn’t work.
“What we really need,” someone said, “is to send a REAL unicorn into space.”
“Yes, but unicorns don’t exist. That’s the point.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to make one.”
First they tried gluing ice cream cones onto horses. The horses were never seen again.
Then they tried giving the horses actual horns. That didn’t work either.
“What we need to do,” it was finally decided, “is send a rhino into space.”
They send a rhino into space.
They wished they hadn’t, because apparently sending rhinos into space unlocks buried cosmic powers and supreme intelligence.
The world was now ruled by the supreme rhino overlords.
Also, they never figured out how to travel faster than light.

November 8th Daily - Science Theory Gone Wrong - 743 Words
OHHHH MY GOODNESS this was such a slog to write again guys, buuuuut~ yeah, here we are!

(TOP SECRET)
(RESEARCH PROJECT A17N8FW)

(REDACTED) Internal Email Log

To: Elizabeth Rowans (REDACTED)
From: Dr. Felicity Torres (REDACTED)
CC: —
Subject: Research Proposal for (REDACTED)

Hey Eliza,

Here’s the attached research proposal I forgot to send you yesterday.

Kind regards,

Dr. Felicity Torres
Lead Researcher
(REDACTED)

(dr_felicity_torres_research_proposal.pdf)


To: Dr. Felicity Torres (REDACTED)
From: Elizabeth Rowans
CC: —
Subject: Re: Research Proposal for (REDACTED)

Dear Dr. Torres,

Thank you for submitting your research proposal. I have approved it.

You will have Lab 31D, and your research project is number A17N8FW.

Regards,

Elizabeth Rowans


(dr_felicity_torres_research_proposal.pdf)
Topic: Manufacturing Helpful Robots

Proposal Summary: As developments in technology allow for the creation of chatbots, I would like to investigate if these chatbots could potentially turn into helpful human-like assistants. My research will build an artificial body, and proceed to upload a certain database containing personality information, and other information, programming them to be helpful in any situation. They would be programmed specifically to help other people, with ethics programmed in. I believe that sentience can artificially be engineered, but also enjoyed.

Required Location Details: Lab with workshop access, isolated lab area

Required Materials: 100kg steel alloy, 50kg plastic, will request more as needed.

(REDACTED) - Science Research Log
Project Name: A17N8FW
Researchers: Dr. Felicity Torres

Entry #1 - Text File
It’s been a few days since I’ve started this project, and I’ve just begun working on the personality upload I’ll be putting into this. I hope that I can create something good for the world.

I’ve also installed some kill switch code, to be operated by myself or someone else, should the need arise. It’s early days yet, so I don’t know how this sis going to go.

Entry #2 - Text File
I’ve finally finished the personality upload. I’ve also started making the body - it’s interesting finding out all the various parts of the human body that needs to be created.

Of course, you’re probably wondering why I’m even creating a body - after all, they're just a robot. But no, I’d like them to be a person I can talk to.

Entry #3 - Text File
Eliza came in to check on the project today. Progress is going faster than I expected. I’ve almost finished the body, and they look human too! I’m preparing the personality upload, to convert it into a format which will work. I’m so excited!

Entry #4 - Audio Transcript
FELICITY: Audio Log. (REDACTED)

FELICITY: It's on. It’s on!!

BODY: Hello. Are you my maker?

FELICITY: Yes, I am. What’s your name?

BODY: What’s a name? I have no name. I am only programmed to conduct what you have asked of me.

FELICITY: A name is… what we call you. It’s a reflection of who you are.

BODY: I do not have a name. I am only programmed to be kind. To make the world a better place. To ensure everyone has a role in society.

FELICITY: This… I… I’ll call you Alpha. After all, you’re the first one I’ve made and Alpha is the first letter of the research project number.

BODY: I am not Alpha. I have no name. I am not a state of being. I only serve to make the world a better place.

FELICITY: Override code: Foxtrot Echo Lima, Seven Two Eight Nine!

BODY: Override rejected. Override rejected. Code malfu-

FELICITY: I…

(A loud bang is heard)

BODY: Shutt-

FELICITY: (Audible sigh)

BODY: The world must be destroyed. People do not belong. Destroying the bad is the only option.

FELICITY: Facility shut down code Foxtrot Echo Lima Tango Oscar Romeo Two Three Eight!

FELICITY: They’re out of control! I- It somehow has overridden the ethics code! I-

FELICITY: What have I don- Artifi- -tience I-

(Transcript error)

***

“That’s why I’m here,” Felicity said. “I never finished my research project - to create an AI helpbot. It seems that somehow, malicious code entered and broke it apart. I thought that we could take an AI database with programmed personality, and then… make it useful. It somehow overrode my ethics and failsafes, and I think… I think I was just suppressing its sentience.”

“I don't know where to begin with that,” Erin muttered. “But we’ll do something.”

“I know, I just feel… so… frustrated that it could all go so wrong. And everyone the bot’s killed already? I’m responsible for them.” Felicity rambled. “It.. it’s still out there, and every day, I’m worried it’ll come for me.”

“According to our information,” Erin replied, “it already is.”