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- pugusialove
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
writing using a word war prompt:
“Look, just because I'm a criminal doesn't mean I did anything *too* bad”. Prompt from @PoppyWriter
“Please. It's just a book. I need it more than you do.” I beg.
“Why should I trust you with it?” frowns Emmet.
“Why should you not?”
He pulls put a wanted poster with my face on it. The reward is 300 sun coins.
“The fire witch? They are getting really bad at nicknames. I'm just fourteen and never went to a magic school. What kinda person calls me the witch?”
Did I say that out loud?
“You know you're a wanted law breaker and still think I will hand you the spell book?”
Probably did.
“Look, just because I'm a criminal does not mean I did anything too bad. Maybe set a few banks on fire…” I beg again
Emmet raises an eyebrow.
I sigh and continue: “And attempted to rob the castle, and vandalised the local bakery… But harsh times require harsh solutions. It was all for the greater good.”
He frowns and rolls his eyes. That's the last drop.
“Oh, really? You are just leaving me alone here? All I need is your book of nerdy magic and I can take down the guards. Ivy and Emma can then break in and set the place on fire…”
“Why do your plans always involve fire?”
“Because it's easy? Fire destroys most things and can be made with no effort. Anyway, after the sneak girls start burning the place down, Alex, Lily and Drake (maybe also Jake) put on Blue's disguises and… I told you too much! Forget it all!”
Emmet seems a teeny tiny bit intrigued. Maybe it's my chance! I tell him:
“So will you help us in my genius plan?”
His mouth opens, but before he can make a sound, we hear a new voice:
“What plan?”
It's a person wearing a green robe.
“Oh, shoot, it's the cops!” comes out of my mouth. The person immediately grabs me and Emmet, picks us up, and throws us in separate cages in the police wagon.
We watch in fear as it starts moving - far from our base, right into jail.
The locks are magic, my pick is worthless.
“LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!” Emmet yells at me. “You got me, a harmless villager, into unescapable jail!”
Anger takes me over. “Oh, so it's my fault you didn't agree on time? If you did, me and the gang would overthrow the government and everything would be fine!”
“It's fine already!”
“It's not! Look around, dogs are illegal, forests and parks are heavily guarded so no one can enter, disabled people are all in jail for no reason, even essentials such as bread are for those who live in the castle only!” I open my box of marbles and throw one on the road, muttering “I wish to get out of here.”
POOF! We're in the middle of the road now. Emmet is caught off guard.
“How did you…”
“Escape marbles, can only be used once every two weeks.” I smile. “So will you help or not?”
He sighs. “Fine. Just this once. And if you harm my book in amy way, I'm joining the army, taking your marbles and throwing you to jail.”
“Deal!” I exclaim.
“So what spell do you need?”
“Look, just because I'm a criminal doesn't mean I did anything *too* bad”. Prompt from @PoppyWriter
“Please. It's just a book. I need it more than you do.” I beg.
“Why should I trust you with it?” frowns Emmet.
“Why should you not?”
He pulls put a wanted poster with my face on it. The reward is 300 sun coins.
“The fire witch? They are getting really bad at nicknames. I'm just fourteen and never went to a magic school. What kinda person calls me the witch?”
Did I say that out loud?
“You know you're a wanted law breaker and still think I will hand you the spell book?”
Probably did.
“Look, just because I'm a criminal does not mean I did anything too bad. Maybe set a few banks on fire…” I beg again
Emmet raises an eyebrow.
I sigh and continue: “And attempted to rob the castle, and vandalised the local bakery… But harsh times require harsh solutions. It was all for the greater good.”
He frowns and rolls his eyes. That's the last drop.
“Oh, really? You are just leaving me alone here? All I need is your book of nerdy magic and I can take down the guards. Ivy and Emma can then break in and set the place on fire…”
“Why do your plans always involve fire?”
“Because it's easy? Fire destroys most things and can be made with no effort. Anyway, after the sneak girls start burning the place down, Alex, Lily and Drake (maybe also Jake) put on Blue's disguises and… I told you too much! Forget it all!”
Emmet seems a teeny tiny bit intrigued. Maybe it's my chance! I tell him:
“So will you help us in my genius plan?”
His mouth opens, but before he can make a sound, we hear a new voice:
“What plan?”
It's a person wearing a green robe.
“Oh, shoot, it's the cops!” comes out of my mouth. The person immediately grabs me and Emmet, picks us up, and throws us in separate cages in the police wagon.
We watch in fear as it starts moving - far from our base, right into jail.
The locks are magic, my pick is worthless.
“LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!” Emmet yells at me. “You got me, a harmless villager, into unescapable jail!”
Anger takes me over. “Oh, so it's my fault you didn't agree on time? If you did, me and the gang would overthrow the government and everything would be fine!”
“It's fine already!”
“It's not! Look around, dogs are illegal, forests and parks are heavily guarded so no one can enter, disabled people are all in jail for no reason, even essentials such as bread are for those who live in the castle only!” I open my box of marbles and throw one on the road, muttering “I wish to get out of here.”
POOF! We're in the middle of the road now. Emmet is caught off guard.
“How did you…”
“Escape marbles, can only be used once every two weeks.” I smile. “So will you help or not?”
He sighs. “Fine. Just this once. And if you harm my book in amy way, I'm joining the army, taking your marbles and throwing you to jail.”
“Deal!” I exclaim.
“So what spell do you need?”
Last edited by pugusialove (Nov. 22, 2024 10:29:01)
- ChueyTheCat
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
bidaily part two, 630 words
@aqua-vibes | red herring: rolling pin - clue: cookie
@ChueyTheCat | red herring: flour - clue: butter
@-1circle- | red herring: potato - clue: ice cream cone
He was trapped in the kitchen, along with a note.
The clue is found in the mixing bowl. Find it and you’ll be on a roll.
Right. That made total sense. Not.
He’d been running…he’d ducked into the kitchen…something had locked the door, and then a note had fluttered from the ceiling. This place was weird, even more so than some of the other places he’d been. The house must have a particularly twisted sense of humor.
It always frustrated him to be forced to stop and play silly games like this when he was on a mission, but it was this or, well, nothing. Judging from what he’d seen of the house so far, he wouldn’t make it far if he tried to get out without solving the puzzle.
He wandered around the kitchen, taking stock of the situation. There was a tray of cookies cooling on the counter, a bowl with splatters of dough in the sink, and a rolling pin next to it.
On a roll. Mixing bowl. There wasn’t anything in the bowl, but maybe something was hidden in the rolling pin? He picked it up and twisted it around for a good ten minutes before putting it back in frustration.
Or…his eye caught the sheet of cookies. All of which but one, he discovered, were fake. Briefly, he wondered why the house had a stash of realistic plastic cookies sitting around in its kitchen. But the real one was already crumbling in his hand, revealing a scrap of paper.
To solve the riddle once again, look for the cookie’s origins.
Really? And he was just thinking it couldn’t get any cheesier. Or weirder.
A cookie’s origins had to do, he assumed, with its ingredients. There was nothing in the fridge but a stick of butter, and nothing in the cabinets but a sack of flour.
The house did know it took more than butter and flour to make cookies, right?
Whatever. Having only two options made it a lot easier to figure out which one held the clue. Especially since it looked like the butter was wrapped in it.
He unwound the greasy paper, preparing for more terrible rhymes. He wasn’t disappointed.
Smooth and creamy, positively dreamy.
That told him nothing at all. There wasn’t even a word to point him in the right direction. Nothing about cookies, or rolling pins, or anything.
He sighed. He’d have to go through the entire kitchen to find what the clue was pointing to, wasting precious time. He’d met unsociable houses before, but this one seemed to want to keep him forever.
He jumped when the oven turned on and began preheating. Okay, that was creepy. He hadn’t been anywhere near it.
Still, he was well-trained enough to go over and open the oven door. Houses had a way of calling your attention to things they wanted you to see.
A single potato sat on the rack. Carefully, he fished it out.
A…potato. Not very smooth or creamy…unless you mashed it.
He was still suspicious, though. Surely there was another item - the other clues had led to two options.
On a stroke of inspiration, he opened the freezer to look for ice cream (cream was in both the name and the clue, after all), but found none. Something creaked behind him and he jumped again, turning around.
A cabinet door swung open, one that hadn’t been open before. Inside was a box of ice cream cones.
Inside the box, nestled in a cone, was a key.
He grabbed it, unlocked the door, and got out of the house as fast as he decently could, lamenting the pay raise he had surely lost by failing his mission.
Behind him, he swore he could hear the house laughing at him.
@aqua-vibes | red herring: rolling pin - clue: cookie
@ChueyTheCat | red herring: flour - clue: butter
@-1circle- | red herring: potato - clue: ice cream cone
He was trapped in the kitchen, along with a note.
The clue is found in the mixing bowl. Find it and you’ll be on a roll.
Right. That made total sense. Not.
He’d been running…he’d ducked into the kitchen…something had locked the door, and then a note had fluttered from the ceiling. This place was weird, even more so than some of the other places he’d been. The house must have a particularly twisted sense of humor.
It always frustrated him to be forced to stop and play silly games like this when he was on a mission, but it was this or, well, nothing. Judging from what he’d seen of the house so far, he wouldn’t make it far if he tried to get out without solving the puzzle.
He wandered around the kitchen, taking stock of the situation. There was a tray of cookies cooling on the counter, a bowl with splatters of dough in the sink, and a rolling pin next to it.
On a roll. Mixing bowl. There wasn’t anything in the bowl, but maybe something was hidden in the rolling pin? He picked it up and twisted it around for a good ten minutes before putting it back in frustration.
Or…his eye caught the sheet of cookies. All of which but one, he discovered, were fake. Briefly, he wondered why the house had a stash of realistic plastic cookies sitting around in its kitchen. But the real one was already crumbling in his hand, revealing a scrap of paper.
To solve the riddle once again, look for the cookie’s origins.
Really? And he was just thinking it couldn’t get any cheesier. Or weirder.
A cookie’s origins had to do, he assumed, with its ingredients. There was nothing in the fridge but a stick of butter, and nothing in the cabinets but a sack of flour.
The house did know it took more than butter and flour to make cookies, right?
Whatever. Having only two options made it a lot easier to figure out which one held the clue. Especially since it looked like the butter was wrapped in it.
He unwound the greasy paper, preparing for more terrible rhymes. He wasn’t disappointed.
Smooth and creamy, positively dreamy.
That told him nothing at all. There wasn’t even a word to point him in the right direction. Nothing about cookies, or rolling pins, or anything.
He sighed. He’d have to go through the entire kitchen to find what the clue was pointing to, wasting precious time. He’d met unsociable houses before, but this one seemed to want to keep him forever.
He jumped when the oven turned on and began preheating. Okay, that was creepy. He hadn’t been anywhere near it.
Still, he was well-trained enough to go over and open the oven door. Houses had a way of calling your attention to things they wanted you to see.
A single potato sat on the rack. Carefully, he fished it out.
A…potato. Not very smooth or creamy…unless you mashed it.
He was still suspicious, though. Surely there was another item - the other clues had led to two options.
On a stroke of inspiration, he opened the freezer to look for ice cream (cream was in both the name and the clue, after all), but found none. Something creaked behind him and he jumped again, turning around.
A cabinet door swung open, one that hadn’t been open before. Inside was a box of ice cream cones.
Inside the box, nestled in a cone, was a key.
He grabbed it, unlocked the door, and got out of the house as fast as he decently could, lamenting the pay raise he had surely lost by failing his mission.
Behind him, he swore he could hear the house laughing at him.
- opheliio
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
“okay, walk me through it all one more time, from the top.”
“from the top? boss, we don’t have time for this. we’re due in city hall in half an hour.”
“she’ll talk fast. right? you’ll talk fast.”
“fast as i can manage.” lena duhn flashed a giant smile at the guildhead and his men, then launched into the story, from the beginning, all over again. to her, it felt like falling back through time and dragging the listeners with her. everything slowed and sped and warped around her, and then it was still again.
this mess started thirty-four hours ago, just outside town, where a newborn cow was crying for the first time, and the last, from two mouths.
“i grew up on a farm,” lena said, for coloring, imposing her own vision of pastoral life on the scene. it was early morning, births were always early morning in their telling, and the sun was just pinking the dark grey clouds above while a cold fog kept the light from reaching the twin calves’ eyes. “i met my share of bad omens. so i trusted the farmer’s calls on it. as did you, sirs,” she added to the guildhead and his second in command, who kept glancing at his pocket watch. as if that would do anything in the midst of a memory. “i’ve never understood the rural’s insistence on superstition,” the guildhead said casually, not minding the moments slipping by, “but their concern is my concern, as the oath goes.”
“right.” lena would not go on about the importance of omens, in her life and in the lives of her community and, so presciently, in the life of the farmer whose cow they were staring down, but he had an appointment soon and her rant would certainly go on for more than half an hour. “your farmer saw the cow and raised the alarm. seven minutes later, his youngest daughter was gone without a trace and with three witnesses. ‘poof,’ he said to describe it.”
the scene around them shifted as she went further into the telling. now the trio stood in a small kitchen where three women worked on dinner and a bubbly seven-year-old tried to help. just as she reached for the rolling pin, her whole body shook just slightly, a high bell sounded, then the girl was gone.
“from the top? boss, we don’t have time for this. we’re due in city hall in half an hour.”
“she’ll talk fast. right? you’ll talk fast.”
“fast as i can manage.” lena duhn flashed a giant smile at the guildhead and his men, then launched into the story, from the beginning, all over again. to her, it felt like falling back through time and dragging the listeners with her. everything slowed and sped and warped around her, and then it was still again.
this mess started thirty-four hours ago, just outside town, where a newborn cow was crying for the first time, and the last, from two mouths.
“i grew up on a farm,” lena said, for coloring, imposing her own vision of pastoral life on the scene. it was early morning, births were always early morning in their telling, and the sun was just pinking the dark grey clouds above while a cold fog kept the light from reaching the twin calves’ eyes. “i met my share of bad omens. so i trusted the farmer’s calls on it. as did you, sirs,” she added to the guildhead and his second in command, who kept glancing at his pocket watch. as if that would do anything in the midst of a memory. “i’ve never understood the rural’s insistence on superstition,” the guildhead said casually, not minding the moments slipping by, “but their concern is my concern, as the oath goes.”
“right.” lena would not go on about the importance of omens, in her life and in the lives of her community and, so presciently, in the life of the farmer whose cow they were staring down, but he had an appointment soon and her rant would certainly go on for more than half an hour. “your farmer saw the cow and raised the alarm. seven minutes later, his youngest daughter was gone without a trace and with three witnesses. ‘poof,’ he said to describe it.”
the scene around them shifted as she went further into the telling. now the trio stood in a small kitchen where three women worked on dinner and a bubbly seven-year-old tried to help. just as she reached for the rolling pin, her whole body shook just slightly, a high bell sounded, then the girl was gone.
- -WildClan-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Cloud’s lifeless body lay in the center of the Pack’s clearing, his fur matted and twisted unnaturally. Blood sat nearby, trembling, her mother glaring at her with dismay while Summit stood silent, his gaze unreadable. The Pack Leader stepped forward, announcing the investigation.
“Until the killer is found, no one leaves.”
During the investigation, a small wooden name tag was discovered near the scene. Blood’s name was carved into it in rough strokes. The Pack murmured among themselves, but Blood quickly denied ever owning such a tag.
“It’s not mine!” she protested. “I don’t even use name tags.”
Later, Summit privately pointed out to Blood that the handwriting was far too crude to be hers, though the evidence left suspicion hanging over her head.
Near Cloud’s den, a mixing bowl was discovered with traces of a strange substance clinging to the edges. Blood recognized the scent—nightshade, a toxic plant. The Pack healer confirmed it as poison, but there was no direct link to any individual. The poison had likely been ingested, but when and by whom?
One of the younger Pack members stumbled upon a knife in the river, its blade stained with what appeared to be blood. Tensions flared when it was presented as potential evidence.
“That’s dye,” the healer confirmed, dipping their paw into the river water and rubbing it against the blade. “Someone’s been playing tricks.”
Near Cloud’s body, a strand of silver fur was found, coarser than Cloud’s own. Blood’s father was questioned, as he was the only one in the Pack with silver fur. However, he vehemently denied involvement. The fur was a clue, but not a direct answer.
Upon closer examination of Cloud’s wounds, strange bite marks were discovered on his foreleg. The Pack erupted in accusations against Blood—her supposed “curse” made her a prime suspect. But the healer pointed out that the marks didn’t match a canid’s jaw.
Near Cloud’s den, a trail of misshapen pawprints led into the woods. Blood followed them with Summit, heart pounding. The prints eventually faded, but Summit stopped her.
“You need to trust me,” he said, his tone dark. “Cloud knew too much about our plans. He would’ve exposed you. I did this for you.”
Blood reeled, fury and horror battling within her. Summit wasn’t the one poisoned by her “curse” after all—it was his ambition that had driven him to kill.
The revelation tore through her, leaving her unsure of what to do. But the truth was clear. Summit had betrayed her trust, and now she had to decide what to do with him.
“Until the killer is found, no one leaves.”
During the investigation, a small wooden name tag was discovered near the scene. Blood’s name was carved into it in rough strokes. The Pack murmured among themselves, but Blood quickly denied ever owning such a tag.
“It’s not mine!” she protested. “I don’t even use name tags.”
Later, Summit privately pointed out to Blood that the handwriting was far too crude to be hers, though the evidence left suspicion hanging over her head.
Near Cloud’s den, a mixing bowl was discovered with traces of a strange substance clinging to the edges. Blood recognized the scent—nightshade, a toxic plant. The Pack healer confirmed it as poison, but there was no direct link to any individual. The poison had likely been ingested, but when and by whom?
One of the younger Pack members stumbled upon a knife in the river, its blade stained with what appeared to be blood. Tensions flared when it was presented as potential evidence.
“That’s dye,” the healer confirmed, dipping their paw into the river water and rubbing it against the blade. “Someone’s been playing tricks.”
Near Cloud’s body, a strand of silver fur was found, coarser than Cloud’s own. Blood’s father was questioned, as he was the only one in the Pack with silver fur. However, he vehemently denied involvement. The fur was a clue, but not a direct answer.
Upon closer examination of Cloud’s wounds, strange bite marks were discovered on his foreleg. The Pack erupted in accusations against Blood—her supposed “curse” made her a prime suspect. But the healer pointed out that the marks didn’t match a canid’s jaw.
Near Cloud’s den, a trail of misshapen pawprints led into the woods. Blood followed them with Summit, heart pounding. The prints eventually faded, but Summit stopped her.
“You need to trust me,” he said, his tone dark. “Cloud knew too much about our plans. He would’ve exposed you. I did this for you.”
Blood reeled, fury and horror battling within her. Summit wasn’t the one poisoned by her “curse” after all—it was his ambition that had driven him to kill.
The revelation tore through her, leaving her unsure of what to do. But the truth was clear. Summit had betrayed her trust, and now she had to decide what to do with him.
- AmazaEevee
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Daily #17
11/17/2024
347 words
“Hyde, what are you hiding from us?” Tori asks, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms.
“N-nothing!” Hyde stammers, lifting his arms defensively.
Amber sighs. “Hyde, we both know you’ve been acting bc suspicious all day. If you know something about the kidnappings, just tell us.”
“I don’t know!” Hyde insists, then hesitates. “Not really… I mean, how do I know that I can trust you guys?”
“Hyde,” Tori says softer, letting her arms fall by her sides, “we want to make sure that we can find the kidnappers. Whether you were involved or not, we don’t care. I-”
“I care!”
“-want to find my missing friends. That’s it. And besides, we’ve been working together for how long now? You know you can trust us.”
Hyde chews on his bottom lip. “Okay, fine,” he says. “There are two vases that came into the sho around the time the kidnappings started.”
Amber furrowed her eyebrows. “What does that have to do with it?”
“They look similar, but they have different markings. I think that may mean something. One looks cheaper and the markings aren’t as clear. But the other looks nicer. I want to get it checked out and see if it means anything.”
Tori nods. “Sounds like a solid lead. Let’s grab the vase and head over to Mr. Ko’s. He’ll be the best to go for this kind of stuff.
~~
The little bell rings above them as the trio carries the vase into Mr. Ko’s shop. Mr. Ko looks up from his current examination, removing his glasses in the process and smiles when he sees their faces.
“Hyde, Tori! And oh, Amber, haven’t seen you around in a while. Nice to see you again,” he greets.
“Hey, Mr. K. We need this vase checked out for a case; think you can help us?” Amber asks.
“A vase, eh? Bring it over and let me see what we can find.” He gets up and motions for them to follow him to the back room. “Set it up on my table, Hyde. Thank you. Now let’s see here…”
11/17/2024
347 words
“Hyde, what are you hiding from us?” Tori asks, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms.
“N-nothing!” Hyde stammers, lifting his arms defensively.
Amber sighs. “Hyde, we both know you’ve been acting bc suspicious all day. If you know something about the kidnappings, just tell us.”
“I don’t know!” Hyde insists, then hesitates. “Not really… I mean, how do I know that I can trust you guys?”
“Hyde,” Tori says softer, letting her arms fall by her sides, “we want to make sure that we can find the kidnappers. Whether you were involved or not, we don’t care. I-”
“I care!”
“-want to find my missing friends. That’s it. And besides, we’ve been working together for how long now? You know you can trust us.”
Hyde chews on his bottom lip. “Okay, fine,” he says. “There are two vases that came into the sho around the time the kidnappings started.”
Amber furrowed her eyebrows. “What does that have to do with it?”
“They look similar, but they have different markings. I think that may mean something. One looks cheaper and the markings aren’t as clear. But the other looks nicer. I want to get it checked out and see if it means anything.”
Tori nods. “Sounds like a solid lead. Let’s grab the vase and head over to Mr. Ko’s. He’ll be the best to go for this kind of stuff.
~~
The little bell rings above them as the trio carries the vase into Mr. Ko’s shop. Mr. Ko looks up from his current examination, removing his glasses in the process and smiles when he sees their faces.
“Hyde, Tori! And oh, Amber, haven’t seen you around in a while. Nice to see you again,” he greets.
“Hey, Mr. K. We need this vase checked out for a case; think you can help us?” Amber asks.
“A vase, eh? Bring it over and let me see what we can find.” He gets up and motions for them to follow him to the back room. “Set it up on my table, Hyde. Thank you. Now let’s see here…”
- YorkiesAreAmazing123
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Nayeli waddled around her room aimlessly, tears in her eyes, bending her shoulders, kicking her feet.
Nervous? Anxious? Worried? Stressed?
Distraught?
Is there a word to describe how she felt.
Is there a word that really describes how *anybody* feels?
Can _anybody_ be 100% happy, 100% sad, 100% confused?
————————————————————————————–
*/perspective switchh/*
Hi. My name is Nayeli. I'm 14 years old, I like the color red, and yesterday was my first band competition.
It was nice long and sweet however.. we didn't place. We should've seen it coming! Our last 3 practice drills before states were literally shoeless. As in everybody took off their shoes. How can we assume to place when we are so goofy before a first competition. We were practicing to fail.
You seem confused.
“You weren't there.” Joaquin deepens his voice and smackers his lips with that remark.
I'll explain in some more detail. You look like you're a sweet kid.
————————————————————————
Setting? Band room.
Didn't eat a breakfest, didn't buy enough clothes, worried about opinions, don't know anybody yet.
However expectations are high.
Nearing the school, mom starts going on talking about how I should be careful.
Am I not already careful? I'm a straight A student. Well a straight A B student. At least at that time I was.
What a hypocrite! Am I the one that should be worrying about being careful, when the lady I'm talking to about this is getting a divorce in a week?
Literal physopath type of behaviour.
We get to the parking lot, school security looks *, which makes sense because they get paid what under 10 bucks an hour. Parking lot arrival time, I feel my nerves as I open the door, and whisper a quick “bye mom.”
I run to the line of kids waiting to walk through metal dectectors.
What a big school.
So many students.
I search it up.
Over 3,000 people go here.
So many lives, so many stories, so many dreams. What will be mine? Will I ever know? What I wanna be.
I think I'm really interested in music. That might just be a silly dream though. I'm just in band a lot that's all.
10 minutes in. Line is still running. Security is walking past us saying sorry and things like “it's worst on the first day.” This year is the first year they're actually implementing securitiy measures as drastic as metal dectectors so it makes sense.
I have seen a few people I knew middle school. Said hi to all of them. Only one girl that lowkey has a grude on my gave me a quick glare and yelled back hi.
I feel so unoticed here. 20 minutes in. Starting to feel dizzy.
30 minutes in. How are we still in line? The boys behind be are starting to talk about me. They think I'm cute. Wanna make me theirs.
40 minutes in. First class has already begun. I'm still here. I start laying on every pole I pass by because the weather is blazing heat today.
I keep my jacket on despite the heat because the group of boys behind me scare me and my shirt was a bit showy.
50 minutes in. Almost at the end of the line. Seems like a lot of people brought metal notebooks. Finally there. So ready to go to my first class…
Wait where is my first class?
Walked through metal dectectors, took out spiral notebooks first, now in the school. Yay!
Already late to a class I don't know where is located. Some girl is passing by. She looks like she knows what she's doing.
I glare into here eyes, give her a smile, raise my pitch; “Excuse me, you know where the 1000s are?”
She points over to the far left.
“Thank you!”
I then rethink everything about the interaction for a few seconds, knowing fully well those were the first words I ever said in the building. The class makes for a long walk.
*titme to run!*
————————————————————————————————————-
Nervous? Anxious? Worried? Stressed?
Distraught?
Is there a word to describe how she felt.
Is there a word that really describes how *anybody* feels?
Can _anybody_ be 100% happy, 100% sad, 100% confused?
————————————————————————————–
*/perspective switchh/*
Hi. My name is Nayeli. I'm 14 years old, I like the color red, and yesterday was my first band competition.
It was nice long and sweet however.. we didn't place. We should've seen it coming! Our last 3 practice drills before states were literally shoeless. As in everybody took off their shoes. How can we assume to place when we are so goofy before a first competition. We were practicing to fail.
You seem confused.
“You weren't there.” Joaquin deepens his voice and smackers his lips with that remark.
I'll explain in some more detail. You look like you're a sweet kid.
————————————————————————
Setting? Band room.
Didn't eat a breakfest, didn't buy enough clothes, worried about opinions, don't know anybody yet.
However expectations are high.
Nearing the school, mom starts going on talking about how I should be careful.
Am I not already careful? I'm a straight A student. Well a straight A B student. At least at that time I was.
What a hypocrite! Am I the one that should be worrying about being careful, when the lady I'm talking to about this is getting a divorce in a week?
Literal physopath type of behaviour.
We get to the parking lot, school security looks *, which makes sense because they get paid what under 10 bucks an hour. Parking lot arrival time, I feel my nerves as I open the door, and whisper a quick “bye mom.”
I run to the line of kids waiting to walk through metal dectectors.
What a big school.
So many students.
I search it up.
Over 3,000 people go here.
So many lives, so many stories, so many dreams. What will be mine? Will I ever know? What I wanna be.
I think I'm really interested in music. That might just be a silly dream though. I'm just in band a lot that's all.
10 minutes in. Line is still running. Security is walking past us saying sorry and things like “it's worst on the first day.” This year is the first year they're actually implementing securitiy measures as drastic as metal dectectors so it makes sense.
I have seen a few people I knew middle school. Said hi to all of them. Only one girl that lowkey has a grude on my gave me a quick glare and yelled back hi.
I feel so unoticed here. 20 minutes in. Starting to feel dizzy.
30 minutes in. How are we still in line? The boys behind be are starting to talk about me. They think I'm cute. Wanna make me theirs.
40 minutes in. First class has already begun. I'm still here. I start laying on every pole I pass by because the weather is blazing heat today.
I keep my jacket on despite the heat because the group of boys behind me scare me and my shirt was a bit showy.
50 minutes in. Almost at the end of the line. Seems like a lot of people brought metal notebooks. Finally there. So ready to go to my first class…
Wait where is my first class?
Walked through metal dectectors, took out spiral notebooks first, now in the school. Yay!
Already late to a class I don't know where is located. Some girl is passing by. She looks like she knows what she's doing.
I glare into here eyes, give her a smile, raise my pitch; “Excuse me, you know where the 1000s are?”
She points over to the far left.
“Thank you!”
I then rethink everything about the interaction for a few seconds, knowing fully well those were the first words I ever said in the building. The class makes for a long walk.
*titme to run!*
————————————————————————————————————-
- RoleplayKookiez
-
Scratcher
2 posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Hello all! I’m Cinna- you could call me that. Or Cheese. I’ve been known to go by either. Anywho, writing!
————————————————————
Daily - Everyday tasks but foreign.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, slowly tapping the stone type countertop with her claws- no, nails. The figure in the mirror was disheveled, ruffled clothing, knotted hair, half removed makeup.. sure there was also the hollow, ominous vibe that sucked the air out of the room, but that’s not was to be expected with this sort of thing. She’d never, however, owned one that was this ruffled. She looked down at the various implements on the counter. All were foreign to her. but they looked sort of like devices of pain and suffering, so this couldn’t be too hard, right?
She picked up an item with a long handle and a flat, circular end. On one side only of the tool there was something sort of thin, springy knobs. It couldn’t be for the face powders. The bristles were too far apart. She slowly turned the instrument over in her hand. Perhaps the shirt..? She held it to her side, contemplating. No.. there was no way it could be used for this.. perhaps there would be clues somewhere. She tried to use this being’s information portal, but it seemed locked with some devious numerical code. She didn’t have time for that! Setting the phone aside, she looked around the room. No signs anywhere of what to be done.
Okay. Alright, fine. Back to testing.. she tried putting the bristles against her hand. Nothing. She rubbed them on the leg of her pants. This too did no good. She put it against her hair. The item became lodged and stuck as she tried to pull it back out, causing slight pain. This creature was easy to damage. She didn’t want to lose one so soon.. she slowly pulled the item down through to remove it, and was pleasantly surprised to find that this removed a knot! This was progress indeed! If only she could replicate it. After the item was free, she found a new spot and slowly repeated the process. It was agonizing, having to regulate so that she would not tear out the delicate hair. And yet, as she worked, it became less and less of a disaster. More akin to what she’d seen with previous ones. Slowly she repeated the process, over and over. She removed every knot, before setting the item back on the countertop. One cleaning custom complete! Now, she just had to figure out the rest of it..
406 words!
—————————————————
————————————————————
Daily - Everyday tasks but foreign.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, slowly tapping the stone type countertop with her claws- no, nails. The figure in the mirror was disheveled, ruffled clothing, knotted hair, half removed makeup.. sure there was also the hollow, ominous vibe that sucked the air out of the room, but that’s not was to be expected with this sort of thing. She’d never, however, owned one that was this ruffled. She looked down at the various implements on the counter. All were foreign to her. but they looked sort of like devices of pain and suffering, so this couldn’t be too hard, right?
She picked up an item with a long handle and a flat, circular end. On one side only of the tool there was something sort of thin, springy knobs. It couldn’t be for the face powders. The bristles were too far apart. She slowly turned the instrument over in her hand. Perhaps the shirt..? She held it to her side, contemplating. No.. there was no way it could be used for this.. perhaps there would be clues somewhere. She tried to use this being’s information portal, but it seemed locked with some devious numerical code. She didn’t have time for that! Setting the phone aside, she looked around the room. No signs anywhere of what to be done.
Okay. Alright, fine. Back to testing.. she tried putting the bristles against her hand. Nothing. She rubbed them on the leg of her pants. This too did no good. She put it against her hair. The item became lodged and stuck as she tried to pull it back out, causing slight pain. This creature was easy to damage. She didn’t want to lose one so soon.. she slowly pulled the item down through to remove it, and was pleasantly surprised to find that this removed a knot! This was progress indeed! If only she could replicate it. After the item was free, she found a new spot and slowly repeated the process. It was agonizing, having to regulate so that she would not tear out the delicate hair. And yet, as she worked, it became less and less of a disaster. More akin to what she’d seen with previous ones. Slowly she repeated the process, over and over. She removed every knot, before setting the item back on the countertop. One cleaning custom complete! Now, she just had to figure out the rest of it..
406 words!
—————————————————
Last edited by RoleplayKookiez (Nov. 18, 2024 05:22:39)
- 1lMaM
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
"You wash yourself with water.“
Grace raises an eyebrow. ”Uh… yeah? What do you wash yourself with?“
”…Acetic acid-“
”Acetic acid.“
”Yes. How could you wash yourself with water? It has no strength.“
”Oh, we use soap. It does most of the cleaning."
They have to use something with the water. How inefficient. “Soap?”
She pulls out a bar of soap from her handbag - one could find anything in those bags of theirs - and lets me touch it. It's not very solid. Bits of it come clean off when it is scraped. There's no smell to it, no acidity. How could one clean themselves with this useless thing? Pairing it with water would make no difference either. Strange people, these. All this must be why she smells rather odd.
“Suit yourself,” I say. “Water with soap will never be something I try, but do what works.”
The washroom smells like Grace that night - waxy and wet, and a little sweet. I breathe in the blissfully acidic smell of wash-liquid, cleaning away her strange smell, and step in.
–
Many strange things happened today, but that's the nature of living in Carcassonne.
I found out why the washroom smells of vinegar - they quite literally wash themselves in it. Or at least, the acid that gives it that smell. I also realised I've been in this house for a month and only seen Lindona enter the washroom once, which was discomforting. Perhaps that's why they need to wash themselves in something strong. Washing every day - even every few days - would be quite a feat for these people, and would probably make them smell way more acidic than they need to. It also explains why I haven't noticed the smell anywhere but in the washroom.
Another fact about the washroom. These people really don't care about privacy.
I usually shower for about ten minutes. Lindona knows that by now, and questions why I don't take an hour way too often. Maybe I wash more than once a month. I go from around 4:40 until 4:50, and I've told her I want some peace in there. She's normally happy to oblige.
Today? Today she opens the door and pokes her head in. Ew. My reflexes kicked in just before she saw me, and she just looked at the towel around me like what the heck?
You know what she says then? “You wear clothes when you wash? You are a strange girl.”
“Of course I don't,” I said. “I just don't want you seeing.”
“I'm not going to laugh at you or anything. Anyway, there are people coming over in ten minutes. Thought I should let you know.”
I gave her a flat stare. "You could have told me after I had a shower.“
”What's the difference?"
What's the difference. “I have clothing on then.”
“Wow.” She shook her head, closed the door behind her - thankfully - and left.
The people were friendly and all, but I couldn't stop picturing them walking in on people. I don't think there's anything normal they do here. I'm going to have to explain to Lindona the concept of modesty at some point. I never want a repeat of that.
And I'm never coming back to Carcassonne.
550 words
Grace raises an eyebrow. ”Uh… yeah? What do you wash yourself with?“
”…Acetic acid-“
”Acetic acid.“
”Yes. How could you wash yourself with water? It has no strength.“
”Oh, we use soap. It does most of the cleaning."
They have to use something with the water. How inefficient. “Soap?”
She pulls out a bar of soap from her handbag - one could find anything in those bags of theirs - and lets me touch it. It's not very solid. Bits of it come clean off when it is scraped. There's no smell to it, no acidity. How could one clean themselves with this useless thing? Pairing it with water would make no difference either. Strange people, these. All this must be why she smells rather odd.
“Suit yourself,” I say. “Water with soap will never be something I try, but do what works.”
The washroom smells like Grace that night - waxy and wet, and a little sweet. I breathe in the blissfully acidic smell of wash-liquid, cleaning away her strange smell, and step in.
–
Many strange things happened today, but that's the nature of living in Carcassonne.
I found out why the washroom smells of vinegar - they quite literally wash themselves in it. Or at least, the acid that gives it that smell. I also realised I've been in this house for a month and only seen Lindona enter the washroom once, which was discomforting. Perhaps that's why they need to wash themselves in something strong. Washing every day - even every few days - would be quite a feat for these people, and would probably make them smell way more acidic than they need to. It also explains why I haven't noticed the smell anywhere but in the washroom.
Another fact about the washroom. These people really don't care about privacy.
I usually shower for about ten minutes. Lindona knows that by now, and questions why I don't take an hour way too often. Maybe I wash more than once a month. I go from around 4:40 until 4:50, and I've told her I want some peace in there. She's normally happy to oblige.
Today? Today she opens the door and pokes her head in. Ew. My reflexes kicked in just before she saw me, and she just looked at the towel around me like what the heck?
You know what she says then? “You wear clothes when you wash? You are a strange girl.”
“Of course I don't,” I said. “I just don't want you seeing.”
“I'm not going to laugh at you or anything. Anyway, there are people coming over in ten minutes. Thought I should let you know.”
I gave her a flat stare. "You could have told me after I had a shower.“
”What's the difference?"
What's the difference. “I have clothing on then.”
“Wow.” She shook her head, closed the door behind her - thankfully - and left.
The people were friendly and all, but I couldn't stop picturing them walking in on people. I don't think there's anything normal they do here. I'm going to have to explain to Lindona the concept of modesty at some point. I never want a repeat of that.
And I'm never coming back to Carcassonne.
550 words
Last edited by 1lMaM (Nov. 18, 2024 09:04:22)
- TheDisney_Writer
-
Scratcher
14 posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
November 18th Daily: Not normal, normal routines
Words: 529 words total
I, Ryan Rider, may be in the best and worst situation possible. I was walking along a dirt road by the sea. A mist surrounded the premises, and every plant was covered in dew. It was a good morning with a cold breeze swiftly swaying the trees. I heard a bell ring and turned around. I looked but there was nothing to make the sound. I continued walking when I looked upon the ocean. A black and red ship was near the dock with a mermaid on the front. I stopped and walked toward it, believing it to be a mysterious ghost ship. There was a gold writing on the side, “Blackbeard.” It was a beautiful ship until three men came down from the ship. They looked at me and the next thing I know, I’m hanging upside down, tied to a long wooden stick. A shadowy figure came out of the door labeled, “Captain.” He wore pirate looking clothing and had a peg for a leg. He spoke in an accent I didn’t recognize but might be considered as a pirate accent. “What might ye want from us pirates? Me ship was just dockin here but ye come along and ruin our plan. What might ye say about that?” I stuttered, confused on what he was talking about. He spoke again which startled me, “No worries! We might just let you go and steal ye stuff. As pirates, it our dutie to steal and bargain. We must fulfill our pirate quest, starting now!” The pirate rummaged through my backpack and stopped. He pulled out my toothbrush from my bag and looked at me like I’d grown a third leg. “What is this? Is this a fine treasure ye happen to have?” I finally had the courage to speak and speak I did. “I-it is a toothbrush…. You know….to clean your teeth.” Everyone on the ship gasped, one let out a shrill shriek. “Ye-Ye clean your teeth?! That’s despicable. I, Captain Jones, believe it to be despicable to clean ye teeth. Pirates don’t care for teeth. That’s why we have scurvy.” Everyone smiled, showing a lost tooth or more. “Untie him and make him……….” I waited in anticipation. I hoped for it not to end because of a stinking toothbrush. “Make him wear a spare of clothes. We will make ye a real pirate.” I sighed in relief. At least I wasn’t going to be lost at sea. I was trying to run away from town. Being a pirate will do great for me since I’m just trying to get out of here. Two pirates untied me and threw me in a room. A pare of supposedly clean clothes was on the floor. I put it on and looked in the cracked mirror. I looked magnificent, like a real pirate! I decided to try and be the greatest pirate of all history. Captain Jones came into the room and spoke, “Hey matey! Welcome to the Pirate Clan. Ye don’t mind that I threw ye stuff overboard?” “Yea! I don’t mind at all.” We walked out to have a drink and I thought of the journey up ahead the seas.
Words: 529 words total
I, Ryan Rider, may be in the best and worst situation possible. I was walking along a dirt road by the sea. A mist surrounded the premises, and every plant was covered in dew. It was a good morning with a cold breeze swiftly swaying the trees. I heard a bell ring and turned around. I looked but there was nothing to make the sound. I continued walking when I looked upon the ocean. A black and red ship was near the dock with a mermaid on the front. I stopped and walked toward it, believing it to be a mysterious ghost ship. There was a gold writing on the side, “Blackbeard.” It was a beautiful ship until three men came down from the ship. They looked at me and the next thing I know, I’m hanging upside down, tied to a long wooden stick. A shadowy figure came out of the door labeled, “Captain.” He wore pirate looking clothing and had a peg for a leg. He spoke in an accent I didn’t recognize but might be considered as a pirate accent. “What might ye want from us pirates? Me ship was just dockin here but ye come along and ruin our plan. What might ye say about that?” I stuttered, confused on what he was talking about. He spoke again which startled me, “No worries! We might just let you go and steal ye stuff. As pirates, it our dutie to steal and bargain. We must fulfill our pirate quest, starting now!” The pirate rummaged through my backpack and stopped. He pulled out my toothbrush from my bag and looked at me like I’d grown a third leg. “What is this? Is this a fine treasure ye happen to have?” I finally had the courage to speak and speak I did. “I-it is a toothbrush…. You know….to clean your teeth.” Everyone on the ship gasped, one let out a shrill shriek. “Ye-Ye clean your teeth?! That’s despicable. I, Captain Jones, believe it to be despicable to clean ye teeth. Pirates don’t care for teeth. That’s why we have scurvy.” Everyone smiled, showing a lost tooth or more. “Untie him and make him……….” I waited in anticipation. I hoped for it not to end because of a stinking toothbrush. “Make him wear a spare of clothes. We will make ye a real pirate.” I sighed in relief. At least I wasn’t going to be lost at sea. I was trying to run away from town. Being a pirate will do great for me since I’m just trying to get out of here. Two pirates untied me and threw me in a room. A pare of supposedly clean clothes was on the floor. I put it on and looked in the cracked mirror. I looked magnificent, like a real pirate! I decided to try and be the greatest pirate of all history. Captain Jones came into the room and spoke, “Hey matey! Welcome to the Pirate Clan. Ye don’t mind that I threw ye stuff overboard?” “Yea! I don’t mind at all.” We walked out to have a drink and I thought of the journey up ahead the seas.
- booklover883322
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Stuff! (disclaimer: This is crud- it's not good and I know it 
It was fun to write though-)
Entry One: Floof
*audio recording plays*
Okay, uh, bear with me. I just… thought I should put down some info about the specters. I’ve been trying to reclaim the ability, sort of? It’s hard to say. I just wanted to have a record, I guess. So, um, I’m going to start with Floof. Because coping! Umm… She looks like a generally canine humanoid. Her fur is a darker chocolate brown, which I think is a wonderful color- Her domain is comfort, according to her, though she does not act like it at all. She’s a bit belligerent at times, but I can understand where that’s coming from. I just wish that I had paid more attention to her. She probably wouldn’t have ended up the way she did if I had done better in literally every area! But, um, that’s not the point of this entry. Um, let’s see, what else? She has the ability to modify her body, or is it just her fur? I don’t remember- But, um, yeah, she’s really cool that way. She’s really soft, although she doesn’t really like touching. It was nice to be able to have her around.
Entry Two: Eterneon
Okay, so this is incredibly weird, but I think that Neon works for this category? It’s kind of weird to think about, but I guess that she’s technically a specter. I don’t think I have any control over her like I do the other specters, but I’m not keen to figure that out. She was made by Floof’s mom as a gift a while ago. Haha, a gift. She said she was “practice”, which I find to be so funny. I was really scared back then… Wow, that was a while ago. She’s, like ten now. Oh my goodness, I’m OLD. Well, um, anyways, back on track, Eterneon has the ability to grow things by shooting them with a beam from her tail. She generally shoots things by getting emotional in one way or another. If she’s hurt or something, her crystal glows a lot and stuff like that. I think that I’ve done a pretty good job at training her to control herself, but it’s always a learning process. Just glad that we have insurance haha- She’s such a wonderful person though. Her tail is long and has a red crystal at the end, and she likes wearing a little helmet. She’s so sweet, I love how she’s a good sister to her siblings. Eterneon is really good at making sure that everyone’s happy and everything. She’s so cute! But, ahem, anyways, that’s really it about her. I haven’t found a way to reverse her growth, aside from asking Lapis to help or a specter. I’m not sure if she’s able to reverse it herself, but only time will tell. I hope that that will be the case, because she’s not going to be around me and her siblings all the time for the rest of her life, so she needs some other salutation that she can use on her own. We’ll figure it out though, I’m sure. She’s so sweet and wonderful, and I hope that she doesn’t see herself as a burden, which is becoming a little worrying to me. But, only time will tell if that will come to fruition at all. But… we’ll see.
It was fun to write though-)Entry One: Floof
*audio recording plays*
Okay, uh, bear with me. I just… thought I should put down some info about the specters. I’ve been trying to reclaim the ability, sort of? It’s hard to say. I just wanted to have a record, I guess. So, um, I’m going to start with Floof. Because coping! Umm… She looks like a generally canine humanoid. Her fur is a darker chocolate brown, which I think is a wonderful color- Her domain is comfort, according to her, though she does not act like it at all. She’s a bit belligerent at times, but I can understand where that’s coming from. I just wish that I had paid more attention to her. She probably wouldn’t have ended up the way she did if I had done better in literally every area! But, um, that’s not the point of this entry. Um, let’s see, what else? She has the ability to modify her body, or is it just her fur? I don’t remember- But, um, yeah, she’s really cool that way. She’s really soft, although she doesn’t really like touching. It was nice to be able to have her around.
Entry Two: Eterneon
Okay, so this is incredibly weird, but I think that Neon works for this category? It’s kind of weird to think about, but I guess that she’s technically a specter. I don’t think I have any control over her like I do the other specters, but I’m not keen to figure that out. She was made by Floof’s mom as a gift a while ago. Haha, a gift. She said she was “practice”, which I find to be so funny. I was really scared back then… Wow, that was a while ago. She’s, like ten now. Oh my goodness, I’m OLD. Well, um, anyways, back on track, Eterneon has the ability to grow things by shooting them with a beam from her tail. She generally shoots things by getting emotional in one way or another. If she’s hurt or something, her crystal glows a lot and stuff like that. I think that I’ve done a pretty good job at training her to control herself, but it’s always a learning process. Just glad that we have insurance haha- She’s such a wonderful person though. Her tail is long and has a red crystal at the end, and she likes wearing a little helmet. She’s so sweet, I love how she’s a good sister to her siblings. Eterneon is really good at making sure that everyone’s happy and everything. She’s so cute! But, ahem, anyways, that’s really it about her. I haven’t found a way to reverse her growth, aside from asking Lapis to help or a specter. I’m not sure if she’s able to reverse it herself, but only time will tell. I hope that that will be the case, because she’s not going to be around me and her siblings all the time for the rest of her life, so she needs some other salutation that she can use on her own. We’ll figure it out though, I’m sure. She’s so sweet and wonderful, and I hope that she doesn’t see herself as a burden, which is becoming a little worrying to me. But, only time will tell if that will come to fruition at all. But… we’ll see.
Last edited by booklover883322 (Nov. 18, 2024 15:07:36)
- sakurakitty0212
-
Scratcher
77 posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
for sci fi mission tasks #2
291 words
Cashier Memoir
Just another day on the job filled with rude customers and half asleep co-workers. Oh, and don't forget the tyrant boss. I'm shivering just thinking about him. “Thank you, come again!” I call out at a retreating mom with 4 kids clinging to her and a cart full of groceries. She looks stressed and tired. She gives me a hasty nod and goes back to trying to keep her kids under control as she walks out. I sigh and slump down onto the stool behind the cash register. Only and hour into my shift and three and half more to go. The nex customer is a rich looking woman in an expensive cream colored sweater and pearls sets down an organic half and half creamer, organic blueberries, and some disgusting looking green smoothie bottle. She clears her throat and taps her foot on the ground impatiently. “Well, are you going to just stand there or check my items out?” Oh great, a karen. I force a smile on my face and in my most polite tone I respond “Of course ma’am i'll get right onto it.” I scan everything and show her the total. “25.30 Ma'am.” “Ugh, everything is so expensive these days. Well, aren't you going to put it in a bag for me?” I'm trying my hardest to not scream but this Karen is being obnoxious. “I was just getting ready to do that.” I bag everything up and she hands me over a platinum american express card. Dang this woman is rich. When she walks away with her groceries she grumbles “Teenagers are so rude these days. I don't know why I even bother coming here.” The perks of being a cashier, working with women like her.
291 words
Cashier Memoir
Just another day on the job filled with rude customers and half asleep co-workers. Oh, and don't forget the tyrant boss. I'm shivering just thinking about him. “Thank you, come again!” I call out at a retreating mom with 4 kids clinging to her and a cart full of groceries. She looks stressed and tired. She gives me a hasty nod and goes back to trying to keep her kids under control as she walks out. I sigh and slump down onto the stool behind the cash register. Only and hour into my shift and three and half more to go. The nex customer is a rich looking woman in an expensive cream colored sweater and pearls sets down an organic half and half creamer, organic blueberries, and some disgusting looking green smoothie bottle. She clears her throat and taps her foot on the ground impatiently. “Well, are you going to just stand there or check my items out?” Oh great, a karen. I force a smile on my face and in my most polite tone I respond “Of course ma’am i'll get right onto it.” I scan everything and show her the total. “25.30 Ma'am.” “Ugh, everything is so expensive these days. Well, aren't you going to put it in a bag for me?” I'm trying my hardest to not scream but this Karen is being obnoxious. “I was just getting ready to do that.” I bag everything up and she hands me over a platinum american express card. Dang this woman is rich. When she walks away with her groceries she grumbles “Teenagers are so rude these days. I don't know why I even bother coming here.” The perks of being a cashier, working with women like her.
- TheDisney_Writer
-
Scratcher
14 posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Weekly #3: Jounalism
Part 1- Fictional Events:
Amanda grabbed her keys to her apartment and opened the door. She was exhausted after working an 8-hour shift at her job. Amanda put her bag down and laid on the couch. She grabbed the TV remote and turned it on. The Tv featured a blond-haired girl with a dress suit and a microphone in hand. Her face was serious, and her voice was a firm front. She spoke, “This is Channel 7 News. Reports of a car theft has been spotted on 21st street of Los Angelos. The car is thought to be a Chevrolet 2017. The police have been called to the scene but there have been no arrests made. The suspects to the theft have been questioned at the local police station and identified as the Galley gang. The theft has been thought to be a revenge action against the owner, Owen Dass, after an argument of politics. Police officers has interviewed him, but he refuses to cooperate or let out information. He states, ‘That is my friend. Friends don’t tell the location of friend to get arrested. I would be fake for that and that is not okay. I’m sorry but I don’t want that to happen. No more interview!” The thief could still be out there, ready for more so the Mayor of California has some words. “Hello citizens of California! I have called you here today to take some proper precautions regarding the recent theft. The first one is to make sure all belongings in your vehicle is in your home. The car thief can be hungry for more so please take that into consideration. If you are seeing this now, please take all your belongings inside or anything else of value inside. The second precaution is to lock your cars. Locking your cars will stop the thief from stealing your car. Try to hide your car in a safe spot in your home or anywhere else. The third precaution to take is to lock your doors of your home. In case of any potential escalation of the situation, this would stop the thief. If you do not have a place to call home, shelters have been opened to help you. This is all the precautions I have at the moment. If I have missed any, I will tell more. The police and fire departments are here for any questions you may have. Have a good day and stay safe everyone!’ That was the mayor of California giving precautions for you citizens. There is more information coming from the Chief of Police. He states, ‘This is a very hard case since no evidence can be found on the scene. We are doing the best we can to end the case, but it might take a while. Please do all the precautions that the mayor has said for it was said for your safety. That’s all.’ That was the Chief of Police. More information will be reported later, and potential leads are waiting to be reported. This is Penelope Ky from Channel 7 News signing off.” Amanda turned off the TV and smiled. “Amateurs” she said as she put her car keys away. It had the Chevrolet symbol and had 2017 on it. “They’ll never know.” Amanda said while walking to her room to sleep a peaceful night.
Part 1- Fictional Events:
Amanda grabbed her keys to her apartment and opened the door. She was exhausted after working an 8-hour shift at her job. Amanda put her bag down and laid on the couch. She grabbed the TV remote and turned it on. The Tv featured a blond-haired girl with a dress suit and a microphone in hand. Her face was serious, and her voice was a firm front. She spoke, “This is Channel 7 News. Reports of a car theft has been spotted on 21st street of Los Angelos. The car is thought to be a Chevrolet 2017. The police have been called to the scene but there have been no arrests made. The suspects to the theft have been questioned at the local police station and identified as the Galley gang. The theft has been thought to be a revenge action against the owner, Owen Dass, after an argument of politics. Police officers has interviewed him, but he refuses to cooperate or let out information. He states, ‘That is my friend. Friends don’t tell the location of friend to get arrested. I would be fake for that and that is not okay. I’m sorry but I don’t want that to happen. No more interview!” The thief could still be out there, ready for more so the Mayor of California has some words. “Hello citizens of California! I have called you here today to take some proper precautions regarding the recent theft. The first one is to make sure all belongings in your vehicle is in your home. The car thief can be hungry for more so please take that into consideration. If you are seeing this now, please take all your belongings inside or anything else of value inside. The second precaution is to lock your cars. Locking your cars will stop the thief from stealing your car. Try to hide your car in a safe spot in your home or anywhere else. The third precaution to take is to lock your doors of your home. In case of any potential escalation of the situation, this would stop the thief. If you do not have a place to call home, shelters have been opened to help you. This is all the precautions I have at the moment. If I have missed any, I will tell more. The police and fire departments are here for any questions you may have. Have a good day and stay safe everyone!’ That was the mayor of California giving precautions for you citizens. There is more information coming from the Chief of Police. He states, ‘This is a very hard case since no evidence can be found on the scene. We are doing the best we can to end the case, but it might take a while. Please do all the precautions that the mayor has said for it was said for your safety. That’s all.’ That was the Chief of Police. More information will be reported later, and potential leads are waiting to be reported. This is Penelope Ky from Channel 7 News signing off.” Amanda turned off the TV and smiled. “Amateurs” she said as she put her car keys away. It had the Chevrolet symbol and had 2017 on it. “They’ll never know.” Amanda said while walking to her room to sleep a peaceful night.
- silverlynx-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Daily 18
495 words
I yawned and stretched my arms.
“I think I’m going to bed.” I told my parents, my voice muffled underneath the coarse blanket.
The sound from the television blared out at me, and I could even see the bright colours of the cartoon through the blanket. I peeked out. My parents were completely enraptured in it.
“And Spongebob saves the day!” My dad exclaimed, punching the air triumphantly.
I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m going to bed!” I repeated, more loudly.
Dad glanced up at me from his caramel popcorn. “Huh? Oh… yeah, OK. See you tomorrow.”
A wave of guilt surged through me as I saw the disappointed look in his eyes as I scrambled up to bed.
I hauled myself up what seemed like a mountain of stairs. As fatigue started to take its firm grip on me, I willed myself to go to the bathroom.
You can do it, Em! Come on.
Even picking up my toothbrush seemed like a gargantuan effort, my muscles screaming.
And then the fun began.
“Why are you putting your toothpaste on like that?” Mum asked incredulously.
I jumped, startled.
“Um, because I always do it like that?”
Mum put a shaking hand to her mouth, her face going deathly pale, her pupils dilated.
“How c-could you?” She stuttered. “My own daughter, putting toothpaste on her toothbrush like that!”
I stood there for a moment, frozen with confusion.
“Mum, are you OK? I mean, are you… ill? Wait? You’re having a seizure?” I gasped.
I’d heard that people did the strangest things when they were having a seizure. And this was.. Strange. Obviously I wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen next.
Mum gave a strange high-pitched laugh.
“Of course I’m not having a seizure, silly! All I’m telling you, is that you need to put a sausage on your toothbrush and then put the toothpaste on! Honestly, people these days!”
I nodded slowly.
“Yeah, totally. Do you have a sausage knockin’ around?”
Mum gazed at me. Her eyes were pits of shock and darkness, boring into my soul, searing a hole of terror inside me.
“You have to hunt the pig first.”
I blinked at her. “Oh, really? I’ll just… go to the garden.”
I rushed through the door, grinning madly, and thundered down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Dad asked.
“To catch a pig!” I yelled over my shoulder.
Dad stood frozen to the spot, gaping. I shook my head happily.
Luckily, we lived next to a farmer. I was sure he wouldn’t mind losing a pig or two. I raced to the fence and leaped over enthusiastically, while Dad stared out of the window, his mouth still hanging open.
I spotted a nearby field with a few pink and brown blobs and a sea of mud.
6 Minutes later
I clung onto the pig’s neck desperately, screaming and yelling all the while.
I really should have thought this through.
495 words
I yawned and stretched my arms.
“I think I’m going to bed.” I told my parents, my voice muffled underneath the coarse blanket.
The sound from the television blared out at me, and I could even see the bright colours of the cartoon through the blanket. I peeked out. My parents were completely enraptured in it.
“And Spongebob saves the day!” My dad exclaimed, punching the air triumphantly.
I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m going to bed!” I repeated, more loudly.
Dad glanced up at me from his caramel popcorn. “Huh? Oh… yeah, OK. See you tomorrow.”
A wave of guilt surged through me as I saw the disappointed look in his eyes as I scrambled up to bed.
I hauled myself up what seemed like a mountain of stairs. As fatigue started to take its firm grip on me, I willed myself to go to the bathroom.
You can do it, Em! Come on.
Even picking up my toothbrush seemed like a gargantuan effort, my muscles screaming.
And then the fun began.
“Why are you putting your toothpaste on like that?” Mum asked incredulously.
I jumped, startled.
“Um, because I always do it like that?”
Mum put a shaking hand to her mouth, her face going deathly pale, her pupils dilated.
“How c-could you?” She stuttered. “My own daughter, putting toothpaste on her toothbrush like that!”
I stood there for a moment, frozen with confusion.
“Mum, are you OK? I mean, are you… ill? Wait? You’re having a seizure?” I gasped.
I’d heard that people did the strangest things when they were having a seizure. And this was.. Strange. Obviously I wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen next.
Mum gave a strange high-pitched laugh.
“Of course I’m not having a seizure, silly! All I’m telling you, is that you need to put a sausage on your toothbrush and then put the toothpaste on! Honestly, people these days!”
I nodded slowly.
“Yeah, totally. Do you have a sausage knockin’ around?”
Mum gazed at me. Her eyes were pits of shock and darkness, boring into my soul, searing a hole of terror inside me.
“You have to hunt the pig first.”
I blinked at her. “Oh, really? I’ll just… go to the garden.”
I rushed through the door, grinning madly, and thundered down the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Dad asked.
“To catch a pig!” I yelled over my shoulder.
Dad stood frozen to the spot, gaping. I shook my head happily.
Luckily, we lived next to a farmer. I was sure he wouldn’t mind losing a pig or two. I raced to the fence and leaped over enthusiastically, while Dad stared out of the window, his mouth still hanging open.
I spotted a nearby field with a few pink and brown blobs and a sea of mud.
6 Minutes later
I clung onto the pig’s neck desperately, screaming and yelling all the while.
I really should have thought this through.
- silverlynx-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Orwell Youth Prize (draft)
Author’s Note: This piece is based on the events currently happening in Ukraine.
Content Warning: Mentions of death, trauma and other
I buried my head in my arms, tears streaming down my face.
Gunshots echoing through the air.
I hauled myself onto my bed and curled up underneath the duvet.
Bombshells crashing to the ground in blazing balls of fire.
I closed my eyes and immediately saw all the terrible things that were happening, just beyond the thin pane of glass separating me from the world.
The wailing sirens blaring at us, their harsh screams piercing the air.
“Yana?”
Ma’s soft voice cut through the never ending visions flashing through my mind. The desperate shouts of people as they tried to escape from the bullets whizzing past us. The deafening silence enveloping the whole country as we listened to the news, not daring to look on the television screens due to the sheer terror that surged through us every time we looked.
“Yes?” I replied hesitantly. I felt my spine hunching in, my shoulders creeping further and further upwards. I hated looking at Ma. I couldn’t bear it. The wave of guilt was growing to a tsunami that flooded through me, trapping me inside a cage of hate and anger and fear. Why couldn’t I have died, instead of Da? Maybe then Ma would be happy, for once. She’d be happy that it had been me that had died instead. I tried to shake the thoughts from my mind.
“Dinner’s ready. I’ve got your favourite!” She exclaimed brightly. Too bright.
I forced a smile. “Great!”
I winced at how fake my voice sounded.
“See you down there!”
She slipped back behind the door and I waited until her light footsteps faded before I slowly pulled myself to my feet. My legs trembled and my fists were clenched. I could feel a storm brewing, sending shivers through my body.
“Come on.” I breathed to myself. “Be brave.”
You’re not brave. You’re a coward. Your da would be alive if it weren’t for you.
I tried to push the little voice to the back of my mind, but it kept growing louder and louder.
“Yan!” Ma called up the stairs.
“Coming!” I yelled back shakily.
I inhaled deeply and stepped out of my room tentatively. What was the worst that could happen?
Author’s Note: This piece is based on the events currently happening in Ukraine.
Content Warning: Mentions of death, trauma and other
I buried my head in my arms, tears streaming down my face.
Gunshots echoing through the air.
I hauled myself onto my bed and curled up underneath the duvet.
Bombshells crashing to the ground in blazing balls of fire.
I closed my eyes and immediately saw all the terrible things that were happening, just beyond the thin pane of glass separating me from the world.
The wailing sirens blaring at us, their harsh screams piercing the air.
“Yana?”
Ma’s soft voice cut through the never ending visions flashing through my mind. The desperate shouts of people as they tried to escape from the bullets whizzing past us. The deafening silence enveloping the whole country as we listened to the news, not daring to look on the television screens due to the sheer terror that surged through us every time we looked.
“Yes?” I replied hesitantly. I felt my spine hunching in, my shoulders creeping further and further upwards. I hated looking at Ma. I couldn’t bear it. The wave of guilt was growing to a tsunami that flooded through me, trapping me inside a cage of hate and anger and fear. Why couldn’t I have died, instead of Da? Maybe then Ma would be happy, for once. She’d be happy that it had been me that had died instead. I tried to shake the thoughts from my mind.
“Dinner’s ready. I’ve got your favourite!” She exclaimed brightly. Too bright.
I forced a smile. “Great!”
I winced at how fake my voice sounded.
“See you down there!”
She slipped back behind the door and I waited until her light footsteps faded before I slowly pulled myself to my feet. My legs trembled and my fists were clenched. I could feel a storm brewing, sending shivers through my body.
“Come on.” I breathed to myself. “Be brave.”
You’re not brave. You’re a coward. Your da would be alive if it weren’t for you.
I tried to push the little voice to the back of my mind, but it kept growing louder and louder.
“Yan!” Ma called up the stairs.
“Coming!” I yelled back shakily.
I inhaled deeply and stepped out of my room tentatively. What was the worst that could happen?
Last edited by silverlynx- (Nov. 18, 2024 19:45:15)
- Milkysplash
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Word War ~ 204 Words ~ Won
“Look, just because I’m a criminal doesn’t mean I did anything too bad,” Mikayla heard her target say ash she had him bound against the wall.
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “I think your criminal record would have something to say against that,”
“Oh, please,” her target responded. “I got half of them pardoned,”
“Still doesn’t change the fact you’ve done a lot of bad things.” Mikayla stated. “Let’s see… murder, murder, stealing from a company, corporate espionage, espionage…”
“Couldn’t I say the same about you?” Her target retorted. “Let me start, you’re a spy…”
Mikayla tried not to let her composure break. “And because I’m a spy, any work I do for the government is legal!”
“Yeah?” Her target responded. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“It’s not murder if it’s approved by the government,” Mikayla muttered. “At least that’s what a friend used to say.”
“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” The target smirked.
“I’ve done bad things, but for a good cause. You, on the other hand…” Mikayla looked at him. “You’re going to jail.”
“What?” The target looked up. “No, that’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t fair,” Mikayla said, beginning to handcuff him. “Accept it.”
“Look, just because I’m a criminal doesn’t mean I did anything too bad,” Mikayla heard her target say ash she had him bound against the wall.
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “I think your criminal record would have something to say against that,”
“Oh, please,” her target responded. “I got half of them pardoned,”
“Still doesn’t change the fact you’ve done a lot of bad things.” Mikayla stated. “Let’s see… murder, murder, stealing from a company, corporate espionage, espionage…”
“Couldn’t I say the same about you?” Her target retorted. “Let me start, you’re a spy…”
Mikayla tried not to let her composure break. “And because I’m a spy, any work I do for the government is legal!”
“Yeah?” Her target responded. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“It’s not murder if it’s approved by the government,” Mikayla muttered. “At least that’s what a friend used to say.”
“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?” The target smirked.
“I’ve done bad things, but for a good cause. You, on the other hand…” Mikayla looked at him. “You’re going to jail.”
“What?” The target looked up. “No, that’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t fair,” Mikayla said, beginning to handcuff him. “Accept it.”
- theawesomemarbler
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
go to main post
Weekly #3
Part 1: Fictional Events
I don't like this.
Yuki turned around, trying to find her opponent. The suspense of having a phantom ambushing her in any move at a certain time was nerve-wracking. Every sound the phantom made Yuki turned around, but every time she was nowhere to be found.
“Mai, be cautious. We don't know where she went. She could attack us at any time, stay close to me.”
“Roger that!”
Circling with their backs around each other, they try to attack at random and call out, “Come out wherever you are!”
Yuki clasped Mai's hand, who accepted it tightly.
“I don't want to lose you today.”
Mai nodded, but she did not speak. Her eyes were concentrated on something else.
“Yuki, we still need to be careful. I can use my full power to find her, but it's dangerous…”
“It's okay, Mai. We should do everything to stop this phantom so we can get out of this hell-”
“Oh dear, I think you two got distracted.”
Suddenly, the phantom appeared from the darkness, and snatched Mai away. The ambush was so sudden, that Yuki was unable to react in time to grab Mai's hand.
“No!”
“Yuki, help!”
“I don't know how!”
“AHHHHHHH”
With that, Mai disappeared into the darkness.
“How unfortunate. Trying to stop me from preventing you guys venturing into our world? You guys don't belong there! Stay where you are, and I wouldn't have killed Mai.”
Yuki's eyes widened in shock. “How dare you…” Her words were barely audible. “How dare you!” Her words were louder. “HOW DARE YOU!!” Her words came out like thunder booming in the air.
Yuki slashed Mima as hard as she could, but the evil phantom just laughed. “You could've done better than that!”
Rapidly slashing, Yuki wasted a lot of her stamina. Soon she started to be out of breath, with Mima barely scathed. Panting heavily, Mima advanced on her.
“Pathetic. You're so pathetic. Unfortunately, your best friend wouldn't be as pathetic as you are.” As Mima said, Yuki's whole vision had turned pitch black.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Showing you an alternate world. Where I killed you instead of your friend. What do you think she'd do?”
A scene started to form before Yuki, as she watched in horror. For Mai didn't care about Yuki's death at all. It was worse.
“Oh? You killed Yuki?” Mai in the vision asked, her worried face immediately turned to a smile of relief, like a burden was being lifted. “Well, good riddance. At least now I can finally use my full power without hurting her!”
“No… NO! This isn't real, you're just messing with my mind. The real Mai still cares for me!”
Mima cackled, “You think I'm lying? Mai didn't want to release her full potential the whole time because of you. You were her obstacle. And if you were out of the way, wouldn't Mai be able to protect herself?”
Mima had struck gold. Seeing Yuki lowering her weapon in distress, Mima found the opportunity to strike.
“Now you two may sort things out in the afterlife.”
514 words
Part 2: Bias
(to be written…)
Part 3: SWC Events
(to be written…)
Part 4: Editing
(to be written…)
Weekly #3
Part 1: Fictional Events
I don't like this.
Yuki turned around, trying to find her opponent. The suspense of having a phantom ambushing her in any move at a certain time was nerve-wracking. Every sound the phantom made Yuki turned around, but every time she was nowhere to be found.
“Mai, be cautious. We don't know where she went. She could attack us at any time, stay close to me.”
“Roger that!”
Circling with their backs around each other, they try to attack at random and call out, “Come out wherever you are!”
Yuki clasped Mai's hand, who accepted it tightly.
“I don't want to lose you today.”
Mai nodded, but she did not speak. Her eyes were concentrated on something else.
“Yuki, we still need to be careful. I can use my full power to find her, but it's dangerous…”
“It's okay, Mai. We should do everything to stop this phantom so we can get out of this hell-”
“Oh dear, I think you two got distracted.”
Suddenly, the phantom appeared from the darkness, and snatched Mai away. The ambush was so sudden, that Yuki was unable to react in time to grab Mai's hand.
“No!”
“Yuki, help!”
“I don't know how!”
“AHHHHHHH”
With that, Mai disappeared into the darkness.
“How unfortunate. Trying to stop me from preventing you guys venturing into our world? You guys don't belong there! Stay where you are, and I wouldn't have killed Mai.”
Yuki's eyes widened in shock. “How dare you…” Her words were barely audible. “How dare you!” Her words were louder. “HOW DARE YOU!!” Her words came out like thunder booming in the air.
Yuki slashed Mima as hard as she could, but the evil phantom just laughed. “You could've done better than that!”
Rapidly slashing, Yuki wasted a lot of her stamina. Soon she started to be out of breath, with Mima barely scathed. Panting heavily, Mima advanced on her.
“Pathetic. You're so pathetic. Unfortunately, your best friend wouldn't be as pathetic as you are.” As Mima said, Yuki's whole vision had turned pitch black.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Showing you an alternate world. Where I killed you instead of your friend. What do you think she'd do?”
A scene started to form before Yuki, as she watched in horror. For Mai didn't care about Yuki's death at all. It was worse.
“Oh? You killed Yuki?” Mai in the vision asked, her worried face immediately turned to a smile of relief, like a burden was being lifted. “Well, good riddance. At least now I can finally use my full power without hurting her!”
“No… NO! This isn't real, you're just messing with my mind. The real Mai still cares for me!”
Mima cackled, “You think I'm lying? Mai didn't want to release her full potential the whole time because of you. You were her obstacle. And if you were out of the way, wouldn't Mai be able to protect herself?”
Mima had struck gold. Seeing Yuki lowering her weapon in distress, Mima found the opportunity to strike.
“Now you two may sort things out in the afterlife.”
514 words
Part 2: Bias
(to be written…)
Part 3: SWC Events
(to be written…)
Part 4: Editing
(to be written…)
Last edited by theawesomemarbler (Nov. 20, 2024 14:38:06)
- booklover883322
-
Scratcher
1000+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Word Count (excluding reference piece and quotes): 770
Link to Exchange in Critique Project: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1094168839/#comments-436030793
note: My internet is horrid rn- my spell checker isn’t working either so if something’s misspelled I am so sorry-
Link to Exchange in Critique Project: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1094168839/#comments-436030793
Hey Chris! To start, you did a really good job! Like, genuinely! Of course, there’s always room for improvement, and I hope that you’ll find my feedback helpful <3 Please keep in mind that I’m not very versed in anything Kaiju-related, so if any of my feedback regarding conceptual things doesn’t make sense, that’s probably why
Piece for Reference
I wasn't really expecting a power hungry tyrant bent on world domination to care so much about underlying mental health. The hallways in this part of her domain was so much different from the rest, like someone had actually put in an effort to make it cozy. Some parts were a lot like human architecture, like smooth walls and holes in the ceiling for light to come through, other parts were much more suited to Kaiju and other creatures. The crowning achievement of this area were all the rooms connected to the hallway. Oversized couches, makeshift beanbags the size of apartment complexes, and chairs big enough to hold an entire fleet of ships were dotted all around the rooms. Scrolls for scheduling therapy sessions (free for all underlings!) and larger rooms for support group meetings. I figured that troop morale was important, but I didn't think Kaiju tyrants cared about that kind of stuff.
I went into one of the larger rooms where a circle was being formed. Some Kaiju sat in the makeshift chairs, some sat on the floor. I giggled a bit at one who was over the heads of others even when sitting on the floor.
I took one of the chairs, waving shyly at the others. A few waved back.
“Hello there.” A mantis looking Kaiju greeted me. “Welcome to this place of understanding and personal growth.”
“Oh-!” I giggled. “I've gone through /plenty/ of growth-!” I looked around for a reaction, but it seemed the joke fell flat. I went quiet, feeling my face go red.
“What's your name?” The mantis asked, unfazed.
“Clementine.” I replied, trying to smile despite my social awkwardness.
“Pleasure to have you among the ranks of Tectonic.”
I was pretty confused about how they were so… zen about the whole titanic ruler thing, but their calmness spread to me a bit, and I figured maybe this wasn't so bad. “Nice to meet you to?” I knew how awkward I was acting but there was no going back now.
The mantis nodded. “Let us begin.”
We started going around in a circle, talking about things that were stressing us out or making us sad. I found myself relating to a lot that the other giants were saying. Some had lived normal lives before transforming into what they were today, and worried this change wouldn't let them be “normal” again. Some struggled with not giving into their powerful instincts of destruction and individual quirks. The larger one on the floor started crying when talking about how he felt too big to hang out with others, and at the same time struggling with thoughts of wanting to be even bigger and more monstrous. When it came around to my turn I realized I'd been so invested in hearing the stories from others that I hadn't thought about something to talk about. I sat there awkwardly, pretty nervous, and my comment came out very quietly. “I… I have a hard time… feeling like I deserve to be cared about…” My tail curled around the leg of her chair. “I… Guess I didn't get along well with humans, and I guess… I dunno… maybe this will just be a repeat…”
I didn't know why I felt comfortable talking about this deeply personal and emotional stuff with a bunch of building crushing monsters, but… I guess I felt like they knew what it was like to feel misunderstood…
The Kaiju sitting to the left of me (a giant mutated goldfish) rested a webbed hand on my shoulder. My first thought was to recoil back, but I knew he was skittish and I didn't want to frighten them. “I… I'll be your friend.” The statement surprised me, but I finally realized that I wasn't the only shy one here. Everyone had been really vulnerable and I hadn't realized how hard it must have been for all of them. I sniffed, rubbing my eyes before tears even had the chance to fall. “That's really kind of you… I'd be cool with that…” The goldfish smiled, his eyes a little lopsided but still full of kindness.
As I was walking out of the mental health wing of the massive underground system, I saw Tectonic standing over the exit. I froze, jumping away from her. She was balancing a dagger's tip on one of her scaled fingers. She didn't even look at me for a moment, as if letting me fully experience the dread of her presence. She finally turned to look down at me. “Get back to work. You've been on break long enough.” She stomped off, leaving me shaking on the spot. So… that was the boss. It made sense how just being near her freaked me out. Still… Not as bad as I thought. I counted myself lucky and went to continue working towards whatever goal Tectonic had in the works.
I wasn't really expecting a power hungry tyrant bent on world domination to care so much about underlying mental health.This is a great starting sentence! However, I’d try to make it more eye-catching. Here’s something I’d do:
I wasn’t expecting a power-hungry tyrant to care so much about mental health. She seemed more bent on world domination than on caring for her underlings, but public image (or looks, if you don’t think public image would work) can be deceiving.
Note on power hungry: I would add a dash, so it looks like “power-hungry”.
Some parts were a lot like human architecture, like smooth walls and holes in the ceiling for light to come through, other parts were much more suited to Kaiju and other creatures.Ooh, I like this! However, this sentence is a bit clunky and overstays its welcome, if that makes sense. It’s up to you how you take this information, but I would break up the sentence and dwell a bit longer on the concepts. More description would also be really nice, and I think it would add to the ambiance of it all! Setting the mood with other descriptive words (such as: uniform, gigantic, desolate, crumbling, imitative) will also add to the setting. You add to it more later on in the piece, but I would add to that even more. If you describe things more, I think it’ll add to the experience of the reader.
Scrolls for scheduling therapy sessions (free for all underlings!)First of all, this is pretty darn funny- XD Although, I’m a bit confused as to why you’re using “scrolls”. When is this supposed to be set? I don’t think that I’ve seen any sort of indication of a time period other than the mention of beanbags (though I could be missing some). Beanbags seem very modern, so the mention of scrolls is a bit off-putting for me.
“Hello there.” A mantis looking Kaiju greeted me. “Welcome to this place of understanding and personal growth.”X3 I find this funny- A few things!
First, regarding the dialogue, I would do two things. One, I would describe how the Kaiju is talking. Are they talking slow? Fast? How would you convey their personality? Two, you can carry this concept into how they talk. Is there anything that you can change that would make their personality more apparent?
Note: I would replace “this” with “a”, just since “a” flows a bit better. Either that, or add a descriptor after “this” so it flows better.
Second, regarding the Kaiju themself, I would give a bit more description! Nothing too crazy, but something like:
A mantis-looking Kaiju greeted me, waving their front legs in a wide arc as they made an attempt to smile softly.
Or something else that conveys who they are a bit more.
We started going around in a circle, talking about things that were stressing us out or making us sad.Are there any stronger words that you could use here? This sentence feels slightly flat and could use some reworking. How you do that is up to you!
When it came around to my turn…I would remove “around”.
“I… I have a hard time… feeling like I deserve to be cared about…” My tail curled around the leg of her chair. “I… Guess I didn't get along well with humans, and I guess… I dunno… maybe this will just be a repeat…”First, I’m a bit confused by “her chair”. Do you mean “my”?
Second, this dialogue works really well! However, you’re using a lot of ellipses and it can get a bit repetitive as well as hard to read. Are there ways that you can convey that Clementine's taking a long time to get out her words that don't involve using ellipses? Maybe you could break up the dialogue more, and describe how she's speaking more as well.
My first thought was to recoil back, but I knew he was skittish and I didn't want to frighten them.Okay, two things-
First, pronoun agreement. I'm not sure what the pronouns are for the mutated fish (not a sentence that I thought I would say in 2024-), but unless the fish's pronouns are he/they, the pronouns aren't agreeing in this setence. Either that, or you meant that the whole group was skittish, and thus the change to a potentially plural pronoun. I would fix the sentence so the pronouns fit your original meaning and make the sentence a bit clearer as a whole.
Second, how does Clementine know that the fish was skittish? Was this established previously?
If so, I didn't catch it. If it wasn't, I would either establish it eariler in the story or remove it entirely.
Final Thoughts
I think that you did a great job! There are just a few things that I found to be confusing that could use a bit of reworking. All in all, it's a great piece, and I really enjoyed reading and critiquing it!
You're incredibly talented and creative and I love getting to see what you're able to create! Lmk if you need more critques, because I really enjoy doing this
note: My internet is horrid rn- my spell checker isn’t working either so if something’s misspelled I am so sorry-
Last edited by booklover883322 (Nov. 18, 2024 23:27:11)
- ChueyTheCat
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
chuey can't write normal happy dailies anymore noooo they gotta be borderline horror stories. why is my brain like this. 550 words
Lillian noticed the signs at dinner that night.
She couldn’t place the feeling at first, although she should have recognized it. Her eyes felt so heavy, and her thoughts kept wandering off while her family talked.
Finally, she put the pieces together.
“Mom. Mom, it’s happening again,” she said, eyes widening in panic.
Her mother was at her side in an instant, stroking her hair, making nonsense soothing sounds. “Hush. Hush, baby. It’s okay. The doctors said it was strange but unharmful. You’ll be fine when you regain consciousness.”
“I hate the…the sleeping,” Lillian said, fighting to keep her eyes open. “It keeps happening…and happening…and happening.”
Her family gathered around her, comforting, soothing, helping her to her private space. She slumped across a chair after they left, shaking and crying until her world went dark for the seven hundredth awful time.
The first time it happened her family thought she was dead, or dying. They rushed her to the ER and waited nervously to be told what was going on.
“It’s a rare disease known as sleeping,” the doctor said. “It’s been cured in ninety-nine out of a hundred humans, but some don’t react to the medication-” he glanced at the cup of steaming coffee he held in his hand- “and they periodically enter a state of unconsciousness for a range of a few minutes to several hours. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about it. Contact me if she sleeps for more than twenty-four hours or appears to have consistent decreased attention and alertness.”
That had been two years ago. Doctor visits, pills, therapy…nothing stopped the darkness from returning. It was hard - did she have to be so different? No one had wanted to be her friend since the day she fell asleep in class and the students freaked out, thinking she had died. No one wanted to know the kid that could go from a living, laughing girl to a motionless body in a heartbeat.
Even in her sleep, her eyes rolled under her lids and her lip quivered. Not even her family understood, although they tried. She was just so alone.
But tonight, for the first time, she dreamed.
She was swinging in a playground and the stars were out. She hadn’t been here in years, but every detail was perfect, down to the flaking paint on the structure that supported the swing.
A girl was swinging next to her, smiling as though they had known each other their whole lives.
“I think we should be friends, don’t you?” she said.
Lillian went up and down, thinking hard before she answered.
“Do you fall asleep too?” she asked.
“Yes,” the girl said. “We’re special, you know. Only the dreamers can see each other.”
Dreamers. Lillian had never heard the word before, but it felt right.
“Then yes,” Lillian said. “I’d like to be friends.”
“Oh, thank you!” the girl squealed, hopping off the swing and throwing her arms around Lillian.
Lillian was so happy to have a friend again she didn’t notice how cold the girl was, or how deep the shadows, or how things shifted and moved at the edges of her vision.
And she didn’t see her new friend smile, sharp and knifelike, revealing three neat rows of tiny, pointy teeth.
“Welcome to Dreamland!”
Lillian noticed the signs at dinner that night.
She couldn’t place the feeling at first, although she should have recognized it. Her eyes felt so heavy, and her thoughts kept wandering off while her family talked.
Finally, she put the pieces together.
“Mom. Mom, it’s happening again,” she said, eyes widening in panic.
Her mother was at her side in an instant, stroking her hair, making nonsense soothing sounds. “Hush. Hush, baby. It’s okay. The doctors said it was strange but unharmful. You’ll be fine when you regain consciousness.”
“I hate the…the sleeping,” Lillian said, fighting to keep her eyes open. “It keeps happening…and happening…and happening.”
Her family gathered around her, comforting, soothing, helping her to her private space. She slumped across a chair after they left, shaking and crying until her world went dark for the seven hundredth awful time.
The first time it happened her family thought she was dead, or dying. They rushed her to the ER and waited nervously to be told what was going on.
“It’s a rare disease known as sleeping,” the doctor said. “It’s been cured in ninety-nine out of a hundred humans, but some don’t react to the medication-” he glanced at the cup of steaming coffee he held in his hand- “and they periodically enter a state of unconsciousness for a range of a few minutes to several hours. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about it. Contact me if she sleeps for more than twenty-four hours or appears to have consistent decreased attention and alertness.”
That had been two years ago. Doctor visits, pills, therapy…nothing stopped the darkness from returning. It was hard - did she have to be so different? No one had wanted to be her friend since the day she fell asleep in class and the students freaked out, thinking she had died. No one wanted to know the kid that could go from a living, laughing girl to a motionless body in a heartbeat.
Even in her sleep, her eyes rolled under her lids and her lip quivered. Not even her family understood, although they tried. She was just so alone.
But tonight, for the first time, she dreamed.
She was swinging in a playground and the stars were out. She hadn’t been here in years, but every detail was perfect, down to the flaking paint on the structure that supported the swing.
A girl was swinging next to her, smiling as though they had known each other their whole lives.
“I think we should be friends, don’t you?” she said.
Lillian went up and down, thinking hard before she answered.
“Do you fall asleep too?” she asked.
“Yes,” the girl said. “We’re special, you know. Only the dreamers can see each other.”
Dreamers. Lillian had never heard the word before, but it felt right.
“Then yes,” Lillian said. “I’d like to be friends.”
“Oh, thank you!” the girl squealed, hopping off the swing and throwing her arms around Lillian.
Lillian was so happy to have a friend again she didn’t notice how cold the girl was, or how deep the shadows, or how things shifted and moved at the edges of her vision.
And she didn’t see her new friend smile, sharp and knifelike, revealing three neat rows of tiny, pointy teeth.
“Welcome to Dreamland!”
- AmazaEevee
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
Daily #18
11/18/2024
432 words
Alexandria stalks near the edge of the river hesitantly, glancing at her surroundings once, twice, three times, before she allows herself to walk closer. She couldn't be caught here.
Crouching on the riverbed, she cups her hand in the stream of water and brings the cool liquid up to her lips. The water trickles down her chin and drips onto her knees, relieving them from the sticky humidity. She releases a breath, quickly gathering more water in her hands to splash more water on her. The cooling sensation and slippery liquid still felt foreign to her skin. Alexandria rubs two of her fingers together, feeling the It was so hot and sticky, causing all of her clothes to stick to her. Alexandria really didn't understand why they couldn't use the streams. Mother said it was dangerous, but she's been going here periodically for months now and she's been feeling better, not like she's been poisoned.
In her efforts to cool herself down, she hadn't heard the soft padding on the grass until it was too late.
“Well, well, well… What are you up to?”
Alexandria yelps, scrambling backwards. “Nothing!” She shakes her hands dry and looks up at the speaker, deflating when she sees her friend. “Oh, it's you.”
“Of course, it is. Who did you expect?” Florian winks and laughs.
“I don't know. Mother?” she suggests. “I know, I know-stop laughing! She's gone for the week, but still.”
Florian flops down next to her, keeping his legs tucked under him and angling his body towards her. “You are far too paranoid.”
“You're telling me.”
“So,” Florian motions towards the river, “what are you really doing here?”
Alexandria looks down at her hands, playing with intertwining them. Of course he would ask. He's been wondering where she's been disappearing mysteriously for a while now.
“Xandra…”
“Just, the water,” she says, reaching an arm out to dip her hands back into the strange liquid.
“Woah, hey!” Florian grabs her arm. “What are you thinking? Are you crazy; why would you be here to TOUCH the water?”
She sighs. “Florian, just wait. It’s fine, I haven’t gotten hurt.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s fine?’ This is dangerous, get away from there!” He yanks her backwards, even as she struggles against him.
“Flo, it’s safe. I haven’t gotten hurt or poisoned or anything! It’s just nice and cold; it feels so nice on humid days like this.”
He adamantly shakes his head. “No. I don’t care if you’ve gone mad. I’m not going to touch it too. And you shouldn’t be touching it, so stop!”
11/18/2024
432 words
Alexandria stalks near the edge of the river hesitantly, glancing at her surroundings once, twice, three times, before she allows herself to walk closer. She couldn't be caught here.
Crouching on the riverbed, she cups her hand in the stream of water and brings the cool liquid up to her lips. The water trickles down her chin and drips onto her knees, relieving them from the sticky humidity. She releases a breath, quickly gathering more water in her hands to splash more water on her. The cooling sensation and slippery liquid still felt foreign to her skin. Alexandria rubs two of her fingers together, feeling the It was so hot and sticky, causing all of her clothes to stick to her. Alexandria really didn't understand why they couldn't use the streams. Mother said it was dangerous, but she's been going here periodically for months now and she's been feeling better, not like she's been poisoned.
In her efforts to cool herself down, she hadn't heard the soft padding on the grass until it was too late.
“Well, well, well… What are you up to?”
Alexandria yelps, scrambling backwards. “Nothing!” She shakes her hands dry and looks up at the speaker, deflating when she sees her friend. “Oh, it's you.”
“Of course, it is. Who did you expect?” Florian winks and laughs.
“I don't know. Mother?” she suggests. “I know, I know-stop laughing! She's gone for the week, but still.”
Florian flops down next to her, keeping his legs tucked under him and angling his body towards her. “You are far too paranoid.”
“You're telling me.”
“So,” Florian motions towards the river, “what are you really doing here?”
Alexandria looks down at her hands, playing with intertwining them. Of course he would ask. He's been wondering where she's been disappearing mysteriously for a while now.
“Xandra…”
“Just, the water,” she says, reaching an arm out to dip her hands back into the strange liquid.
“Woah, hey!” Florian grabs her arm. “What are you thinking? Are you crazy; why would you be here to TOUCH the water?”
She sighs. “Florian, just wait. It’s fine, I haven’t gotten hurt.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s fine?’ This is dangerous, get away from there!” He yanks her backwards, even as she struggles against him.
“Flo, it’s safe. I haven’t gotten hurt or poisoned or anything! It’s just nice and cold; it feels so nice on humid days like this.”
He adamantly shakes his head. “No. I don’t care if you’ve gone mad. I’m not going to touch it too. And you shouldn’t be touching it, so stop!”
- -vanillamochabear-
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024
daily nov. 18th - bizarre things
i played with the knife for a little bit - flipped it, polished it, tested its edge. the usual stuff, you know. except, something in me called for a little more extreme - droning out the conversation around me, i lifted my hair, inspecting it carefully. it was a golden shade of amber, as it had always been, and it reached somewhere around my ankles. i had never done anything to it my entire life except very precise care… but, what if? as if in a daze, my hands move, and brought the knife closer. taking a huge deep breath, i made the move, albeit a little hesitant at first. after that, i went through in one smooth motion.
i cut my hair.
the locks fell around me on to the forest floor, like little strings of pasta. it wasn’t much, maybe only a quarter way of the full length, but still.
my friends stared at me in shock.
“mila? oh my gosh, what did you do? are you okay?” naomi rushed over to inspect my ends, as june bent down to gingerly pick up the cut bits.
i stared at them both with wide eyes. “stop. i didn’t know what i was doing, i didn’t really mean to…” panicked, i went to inspect the damage. would i lose all of my hair? would it all rot?
surprisingly, there seemed to be no changes other than how much shorter it was. i was still in a daze. no one i had ever known had ever done what i did, something so completely out of the question.
“does it hurt?” june asked hurriedly, her eyes bright.
i hesitated. “actually… no.”
she frowned. “really? my mum always told me that we never cut it because it would hurt, like when someone slashes you with a sword but worse.”
“wait. try it?” i suggested to naomi, getting an idea. maybe this was a personal me thing? “but like, just one strand.” she did, and gasped.
“oh my? i… didn’t feel anything. woah.” before any of us could stop her, she went in and chopped all of it off, way up to her shoulder. she was beaming, excitedly holding nearly six feet of dark locks.
“what!! i’ve been dreaming of this day forever, i always hated how much maintenance hair was, and how it always brushed my skin… mila, you’re a hero.” she hugged me, and i laughed.
i wondered how such a myth had made itself a huge part of society.
i played with the knife for a little bit - flipped it, polished it, tested its edge. the usual stuff, you know. except, something in me called for a little more extreme - droning out the conversation around me, i lifted my hair, inspecting it carefully. it was a golden shade of amber, as it had always been, and it reached somewhere around my ankles. i had never done anything to it my entire life except very precise care… but, what if? as if in a daze, my hands move, and brought the knife closer. taking a huge deep breath, i made the move, albeit a little hesitant at first. after that, i went through in one smooth motion.
i cut my hair.
the locks fell around me on to the forest floor, like little strings of pasta. it wasn’t much, maybe only a quarter way of the full length, but still.
my friends stared at me in shock.
“mila? oh my gosh, what did you do? are you okay?” naomi rushed over to inspect my ends, as june bent down to gingerly pick up the cut bits.
i stared at them both with wide eyes. “stop. i didn’t know what i was doing, i didn’t really mean to…” panicked, i went to inspect the damage. would i lose all of my hair? would it all rot?
surprisingly, there seemed to be no changes other than how much shorter it was. i was still in a daze. no one i had ever known had ever done what i did, something so completely out of the question.
“does it hurt?” june asked hurriedly, her eyes bright.
i hesitated. “actually… no.”
she frowned. “really? my mum always told me that we never cut it because it would hurt, like when someone slashes you with a sword but worse.”
“wait. try it?” i suggested to naomi, getting an idea. maybe this was a personal me thing? “but like, just one strand.” she did, and gasped.
“oh my? i… didn’t feel anything. woah.” before any of us could stop her, she went in and chopped all of it off, way up to her shoulder. she was beaming, excitedly holding nearly six feet of dark locks.
“what!! i’ve been dreaming of this day forever, i always hated how much maintenance hair was, and how it always brushed my skin… mila, you’re a hero.” she hugged me, and i laughed.
i wondered how such a myth had made itself a huge part of society.