swc megathread ⌕ nov 2024

Runaway--

Weekly 3 –> Journalism
1835 words total

Part One - 504 words
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/786802/?page=22#post-8246329

Part Two (A) - 251 words

Recently a video has gone viral, showing a small child charming a chicken inside of an IKEA. Many people have been wondering about the incident- how did the chicken get in? Why did it go for the child? Who was the child? Well, we got an interview with one of the store employees to answer all your questions.

He said that the small child was Samantha, the daughter of one of his coworkers. Despite watching everything as it went down, our informant had a deadly fear of chickens and refused to approach the child, instead running for his life. However, now we have some information, it quickly became easy to uncover the rest of the story.

Cornelius Horkensquawk, who runs the Ikea, arrived to help only to find Samantha had charmed the chicken without his intervention. He described it as a ‘close call,’ but ‘not bad publicity. He then promised that no chickens would be found in the ikea again, and that the public was safe.

Sure enough, the chicken video has jumped Samantha to fame, an impressive feat for someone so young. Now her father no longer works in Ikea, but on a small farm to the north of the city where he and Samantha spend the whole day looking after various chickens. It’s a dangerous job, but nothing Samantha the chicken charmer can’t handle. Furthermore, the cowardly employee who ran from the chicken became a supernatural blogger, recounting his experiences with both ‘evil chickens’ and ‘evil high school teachers.’

Part Two (B) - 265 words

For 23 years, I have been trying to close down the ikea across the road from my apartment. It has brought unnecessary noise, traffic, and inconvenience to every part of my life. A recent video that went viral less than a week ago, may be the final straw and my last chance to get this Ikea gone for good.

The video shows 5-year old child inside the IKEA, being stalked by a rapidly approaching chicken. The young child is oblivious, and does not seem to understand the danger, instead continuing to sing.

A
B
C…..

Is it shocking that a chicken, a wild animal, was set free inside of a shop? Yes. but what is more shocking is that the video captures two staff, one of which the owner of the complex, standing their in utter bewilderment. Should they not be risking their lives to save that poor, helpless child? Or maybe this was a plot. A plot to set chickens on their customers- because everyone at IKEA are evil.

It is shameful that we have given this video recognition, given it likes and follows, when we truly should be seeing it as the reason IKEA closes in my town- and across the whole world.

My dear followers, please help me boycott this horrible, murderous shop for once and for all. We should not have to live in a community that throws chickens at poor helpless children, nor should we have to deal with such nonsense as people calling the video ‘cute’ or ‘wholesome’. Rise up, my fans! Today is the day we fight back.

Part three - 464 words
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/786802/?page=22#post-8247915

Part four - 344 words
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1094168839/#comments-436909863

silverlynx-

Part 3 - Weekly 3

SWC Leaders Declaring Strike!

Just a day ago, on the 22nd of November, all leaders and co-leaders claimed that they were going on strike, due to the amount of points and mangoes they were receiving. All of them have insisted that they should all receive 1,000,000 points as compensation and at least two food items of their choice.
“We want ketchup! We want rice! We want deep-fried toes!” The leaders demanded.
There are numerous reasons for this sudden and shocking strike. The most popular, however, is ‘for the points and the food.’ Another is ‘for the chaos!’ Many campers believe that the reason for this is Gurtle, the infamous turtle who loves invading the prestigious main cabin and gobbling up all the links and making sure Scratch Servers are down. They believe that he may have found a way to twist their minds. Another thing that supports this is the Polar Bear’s strike as well.
Others also think that it could be Skog, jealous of Gurtle’s fame and cruel ideas, due to the lack of attention he received. This is because Gurtle was such a hit in the March Session, and Skog and Blahaj could feel a little left out. All the campers and leaders have been warned to prepare for an immediate attack from Skog and Blahaj, which could end… fatally.

Some evidence shows that Gurtle, Skog and Blahaj may have teamed up, creating a highly dangerous and skillful team that could easily thwart anyone’s minds and force them to do their bidding. These three have always been aggressive, so who knows. In fact, a few campers have claimed that during the Mascot Cookout, there was a huge rebellion with all of the mascots, who joined together and started all of this. However, no one has any evidence to back this up, so our knowledge of this is still insufficient.
SWC may fail to continue if these disastrous events carry, causing ultimate chaos in all the cabins.
“We have always been proud of our chaos, but this is too much.” Reports CD, current leader of Bi-Fi.
The campers are all greatly upset about this horrific turn of events, and dearly wish that the leaders could all come back to not being hypnotised by the mascots. Apparently, it could even be a matter of life or d3ath.

Earlier this morning and 7:15am, all of the leaders joined together to bombard the cabins and protest, Gurtle leading the parade, brandishing the link to the weekly and gobbling it up, along with the prospect of cabin wars, which so many though would occur on the 23rd of November, however it didn’t, resulting in much disappointment.
Despite the hypnotism, some of the leaders are starting to change their minds, and have joined the campers and stopped being on strike. Hopefully they will all be returned by the time for the 4th and final weekly, and cabin wars.

silverlynx-

Weekly 3
1979 words

Part 1

Content Warning: Mentions of d3ath, gore etc
I meant for this to be a funny piece… and then I wrote this

“Yana!”
Gunshots echoed through the air. Bombs shattered on the ground. Shrill screams pierced the air.
“Yana!”
I glanced up at Ma, who was just metres away from me. Yet it seemed like a mile. I started to scramble over to her, my muscles screaming at me, burning. It felt like poison was running through my veins, boiling and toxic. And then I heard that fatal gunshot. The one marking Ma’s death. Time seemed to slow down, and I watched the bullet hurtle towards her.
“Ma!” I shrieked desperately, my heart pulsing loudly in my chest. “Get away!”
My voice, raw and gravelly, was barely a whisper. I watched in horror as she let out a harrowing scream, the bullet making contact. I closed my eyes tightly, hearing the gentle thud as she hit the ground. I couldn’t watch. It was too painful. There had been so much death for the past year. Now Ma. Why Ma?

War had definitely begun. And I didn’t know how Ukraine could even dare to hope to get through it.

I trudged away from Ma’s body, tears streaming down my mud-streaked face. A deep gash ran down my leg, a crimson stream trickling down my shin. I gasped for air, the smell of blood filling my nostrils. I looked at a blinding neon screen. ‘Watch the brand-new Silver Shadow series in less than two days! Viewing in cinemas starts on 17th November, 2023!’
I sighed heavily. It would be useful to have some information on how to escape this nightmare.

I wish I knew why this was happening to us. Why it would happen to anyone. Why this whole stupid war started in the first place. Why?
“Run!” Someone yelled at me, running past, fleeing for their lives. Good for them. I decided it was time to accept my death. There was no way I could escape now. With no one I knew and no chance or food or water, death was the best option for me. I didn’t have a choice anyway. It was death or eternal torture in a prison camp. And I knew which I preferred.

As planes whizzed through the air, dropping bombs and missiles, I just stood there. Motionless. Emotionless. This war had drained all the life out of me, leaving me an empty shell of darkness, sadness and hatred. Soldiers in a tight starchy uniform marched around the city. Some of their faces were taught with sorrow as they shot woman after man after child down, some of their faces hard and cruel, and some cold as stone. Some had tears streaming down their faces, some were carefully aiming their guns at people.
Then I saw someone aiming their gun at me. For a moment, I just stayed there, choosing death. But as the bullet raced towards me, a yearning for life surged through me. I would live. For Ukraine.
I leapt to the left, missing the bullet by inches. Beads of sweat coated my forehead.

“Yan!”
An immediate smile glowed on my face. “Matviy!” I called back. My friend since I was 4 years old. I enveloped him in a hug, relief flooding through me.
Maybe Ukraine and I would survive after all.

Part 2

Queen’s Cranberry Juice Bottle Destroyed By the Cruel Cunning Viktor!

Written by Alfred the Annoying (now sacked)
Last night, while the rest of our country was fast asleep, Viktor (surname unknown) crept into the Queen’s bedroom with a horrific, terrible idea. This witty man wanted to steal the Queen’s famed cranberry juice. The Queen’s Cranberry Juice is known from all over the Commonwealth, and further. It is made from the finest cranberries, now known to be extinct. The juice is the last of its kind, and extremely special. The Queen was planning to pass it down through generations as a reminder of how special it is, until it was almost stolen.

However, the thief didn’t manage to steal the bottle. It was found earlier the next morning, on the floor, broken! Viktor obviously has an evil, cursed heart, not worthy of this world. I mean, who would steal the Queen’s Cranberry Juice Bottle! Only someone whose soul was dark, just like Voldemort. Or maybe, Viktor is Voldemort. They both have the same letter at the beginning of their name! And there was a Viktor in the books as well!
Anyway, I appear to be going off topic here. The cranberry juice wasn’t the only thing that got stolen. Viktor’s stupendously mean mind just couldn't help itself, and he ended up stealing the Queen’s magic coin as well! I think that it must have been greed and selfishness that caused him to do this.

And anyone who believes that Viktor is innocent, that Viktor was some poor man who needed some money to provide for his family, then you’re wrong. Despite how he may show himself to others, he was a cold, harsh, brutal man on the inside, and not to be trusted. Some evidence suggests that this could have been some foolish dare, but, even so, who would go through with it?
If you want further information, please visit @bbcnews.org
I hope that we find this cruel culprit and have him imprisoned.

Man caught Stealing Magic Coin and Cranberry Juice Bottle

Written by Kellie the Kind
Last night, at approximately 2:00am, a man was caught sneaking into the Queen’s bedroom. Despite the increasing number of criminals on the loose, none fit the description of this particular man. However, an anonymous guard heard a voice calling ‘Viktor,’ followed by the man running away, but we cannot be sure of his identity.
At 6:03am, the Queen’s prized Cranberry Juice Bottle was found smashed on the floor, with the contents spilled onto her silk carpet. The bottle is highly sought after all throughout the world, being the only of its kind. The Queen was planning to pass it down through generations, as a constant reminder of this rarity.

The bottle, however, was not the only thing that was stolen. Her Majesty claims to have found that her special magic coin is missing too. This coin was passed down from many generations to her, and is of great emotional significance to her.
“I carried that coin with me wherever I went. I can’t imagine how unlucky life might be for me without it. But I want to let you know that whoever the culprit is, please try and identify them! They might be in desperate need of help, so don’t be quick to judge.” The Queen told us.

Many people have an idea of who the man might be.
“That cruel man, stealing the Queen’s most prized possessions! I simply cannot believe it!” An anonymous man said.
Another told us, “I completely agree with the Queen. Perhaps this person is in trouble. We must find them so we can give them help to have a better life.”
Some evidence suggests that this man might have been carrying out a dare, perhaps from a friend. We do not know yet, but many investigators are trying to find out the culprit.
For more information, please visit our website - @bbcnews.org - and feel free to comment your ideas on who this man could be.

Part 3

SWC Leaders Declaring Strike!

Just a day ago, on the 22nd of November, all leaders and co-leaders claimed that they were going on strike, due to the amount of points and mangoes they were receiving. All of them have insisted that they should all receive 1,000,000 points as compensation and at least two food items of their choice.
“We want ketchup! We want rice! We want deep-fried toes!” The leaders demanded.
There are numerous reasons for this sudden and shocking strike. The most popular, however, is ‘for the points and the food.’ Another is ‘for the chaos!’ Many campers believe that the reason for this is Gurtle, the infamous turtle who loves invading the prestigious main cabin and gobbling up all the links and making sure Scratch Servers are down. They believe that he may have found a way to twist their minds. Another thing that supports this is the Polar Bear’s strike as well.
Others also think that it could be Skog, jealous of Gurtle’s fame and cruel ideas, due to the lack of attention he received. This is because Gurtle was such a hit in the March Session, and Skog and Blahaj could feel a little left out. All the campers and leaders have been warned to prepare for an immediate attack from Skog and Blahaj, which could end… fatally.

Some evidence shows that Gurtle, Skog and Blahaj may have teamed up, creating a highly dangerous and skillful team that could easily thwart anyone’s minds and force them to do their bidding. These three have always been aggressive, so who knows. In fact, a few campers have claimed that during the Mascot Cookout, there was a huge rebellion with all of the mascots, who joined together and started all of this. However, no one has any evidence to back this up, so our knowledge of this is still insufficient.
SWC may fail to continue if these disastrous events carry, causing ultimate chaos in all the cabins.
“We have always been proud of our chaos, but this is too much.” Reports CD, current leader of Bi-Fi.
The campers are all greatly upset about this horrific turn of events, and dearly wish that the leaders could all come back to not being hypnotised by the mascots. Apparently, it could even be a matter of life or d3ath.

Earlier this morning and 7:15am, all of the leaders joined together to bombard the cabins and protest, Gurtle leading the parade, brandishing the link to the weekly and gobbling it up, along with the prospect of cabin wars, which so many though would occur on the 23rd of November, however it didn’t, resulting in much disappointment.
Despite the hypnotism, some of the leaders are starting to change their minds, and have joined the campers and stopped being on strike. Hopefully they will all be returned by the time for the 4th and final weekly, and cabin wars.

Part 4

First of all, I loved reading this through! It was super funny and informative, and actually told me a lot of stuff that I didn’t know about the whole leader strike thing (I’ve been kinda inactive for the past few days).

I feel like the introductory paragraph sort of jumps straight into the story, without much information beforehand. I think you could add something about the leaders as well? Or you could just make another paragraph before that one giving the reader a bit more information on the Polar Bears and maybe something about the campers?? <3
I also think that ‘take the war to the tyrants’ is a bit confusing because the reader might not know who the ‘tyrant’s are. You also say ‘other campers’ twice in the second paragraph, making it sound a bit repetitive.

Another thing that you might want to change (might) is the tyrannical corporate body thingy since I found that a bit confusing and didn’t really understand it. But I’m only 11 sooooo I guess it makes sense I don’t understand it lol <3 if you want to keep it, then I think that would be fine too (editing mode: waittttt that was rly useless for critiquing… I'll keep it in there…)
Other than that I don;t think there’s anything I would change with this piece. I love the way you wrote it and YOU INCLUDE MEEEEEE

I hope this helps (which it probably won’t because I struggled to find anything wrong with it) and… BYEEEE <3

-vanillamochabear-

weekly #3 ~ journalism! 0000 words total

part one: fictional events, 598 words
it’s a nice day in the park - or rather, it was.
it was early spring, the moment where the air balanced between cold and a little less cold, but the area was already quite full of life. from the fountain bubbling merrily in the center of the walkway, the people frolicking about, and the budding daffodils, stuff looked to be completely fine and as usual. the grass had begun to look a bit more green than yellow, and everyone was in a general jolly spirit.
leora had been casually sitting on a bench, as any person would. she had her headphones on, and was listening to her spotify daylist. she thought the music for it was currently a bit bland, but she didn’t have the energy to browse other playlists so in the end she kept it. in her lap was an open notebook, and in her hand was a pencil moving at light speed - there was a test tomorrow in her biology class, and every minute of grinding would be crucial. here she is, sketching out cell structures and sulking about how math had made its way into her favorite subject.
the happy normalcy of the afternoon proceeded to last roughly twenty minutes.
all of a sudden, there’s a sudden shift in the air. a gust of cold wind, a loud noise, the feeling of someone watching you - whatever it was, it caused everyone in the park to snap their heads up. at first, they looked around confused at each other and why they were making eye contact; no one ever made eye contact in public spaces; until it happened.
the fountain shot up, the way it does when the hour changes. except, this time, it went higher, higher, and even higher still. the stream of water aggressively made its way up into the heavens, much to the terror of the people. they looked on with wide eyes. leora shut her notebook and hurriedly took a couple steps backward, standing next to a kind looking lady.
“what’s… happening?” she asked her, hanging on to the hope that someone must know something. this was bizarre.
“i don’t know,” the lady responded, not tearing her gaze away from the fountain.
could it get any worse? supposedly, yes. a ring of fire began to form a circle around the fountain, even though there had been nothing there before to even signify that that was a possibility. no gasoline, no marks. only a suddenly four-foot wall of flames that spread like ice on a lake.
leora gave up on pretending things were fine, like the many around her who started to scream. she turned on her heel and followed the crowd sprinting away. what in the occult stuff?
a crowd of reporters and cop cars had started to pull up, sirens blaring the familiar harmony. if anyone in the city had been there for over an hour, that was a clear sign of things going down. the cameras start to flash, and uniformed people ran in. and then, it all crashed - the flume of water which had probably gone high enough to hit a plane, fell back to earth in a second. it immediately extinguished the circle of flames, as well as washed away anything standing in a close radius.
the glowing started around this point.
then the figure, tall and silhouette-like, standing in a way that can only be described as valiant in the center of some water that glowed like glow sticks. it raised its head(?) and the staring party continued.
“hello, mortals,” it spoke.

part two: bias, 000 words
a

part three: swc events, 000 words
a

part four: editing, 000 words
a

Natt519

Weekly 3! i speedran this sob
(wip—this is just so that i can get the critquakkksjshalkhhaire because I’m doing it out of order)
Words: 1775

i did have an extension of 2 hours btw

part 1
words: 520

The day was just like any other at first. I was sitting in the corner of the coffee shop at 3:30 PM, sipping hot chocolate, and working on my novel. I did this every Thursday–in fact, I've never skipped one since I began. I only had just a little over twenty thousand words. Then suddenly, a… thing burst through the door! I wasn't sure what it was. Imagine if you took a chinchilla, lizard and/or dinosaur, and a monkey all in one. A bit strange, don't you think?

I must admit, it was kind of cute, though. Kind of furry, with little paws that also had very sharp claws. So, maybe not that cute.

The thing, whatever it was, scampered into the back of the shop. I heard some rustling and the tearing of plastic. The employee must have noticed it at that point–she shrieked (an appropriate reaction, to be honest) and raced out the door. The little bell rang cheerily behind her. The other customers had left right after her, too; I was the only one left.

I was left in a store with a hybrid mutant animal that could probably beat me in a fight.

Hooray.

However, I am a writer. Anything anyone says or does could possibly be used in a story. And this–this was the perfect opportunity! I didn't have to imagine a new creature; there was one right there! And so, I did what any curious and possibly lacking in common sense person would do: I went into the back to follow the creature.

I found it on the floor, with a bag of mini marshmallows open, and it eating them. When it heard me come in, it perked its head up, looked at me, and then went back to eating. I slowly approached it, and it did not attack me or even look up again from its food. I cautiously grabbed a mini marshmallow that had been scattered on the floor near me and held it out to the creature. Now, it did look up, and then it took the marshmallow out of my hand and ate it. I grabbed another one, and it ate it again. Then, it looked at me expectantly. I reached out and pet its furry little head. It acted like a cat, sort of; just a cat that was very obsessed with mini marshmallows. It seemed friendly, though, and even followed me when I got up to rearrange the messy shelves.

“I'll call you Pip,” I said. The animal–Pip–looked up at me with her bright blue eyes and gave a little chirp.

I wanted to keep her, I knew that. But then again, she was a creature of unknown species. She'd probably be taken by the government or something to study her. Then, I heard police sirens approaching the coffee shop. Someone must've called them after they ran out. I didn't think they would arrest me, but it did look like the creature was my pet or something.

“Bye, Pip. I'd run if I were you, by the way,” I said, and ran out the door of the shop.

part 2

used this: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/8247708/
unbiased: 253

YOUNG GIRL WITH SUPERNATURAL POWERS

Elenor Wilder, now fifteen, has been living with the Wilder family for eight years. However, she has a special ability–she can control fire. Scientists have interviewed her and are still unsure of how this is possible. “We've never seen anything like this before,” says scientist Hailey Park. “It's completely unexplainable. Humans have never had superpowers before. We've even traced her family tree, and nobody besides her have ever had anything unusual about them–or, if they did, they just hid it very well.”

However, the story gets deeper: when Elenor was seven years old, she set fire to her own home. She had forgotten this for eight years; a side effect of what had happened, as experts say, to protect herself. She was untrained at that time and was unable to effectively control her ability. Elenor recounts a nightmare she had before the first spark–she has asked that it not be shared with the public, but says that it caused to feel enough strong emotions to lose control. “I tried to put the fire out, but it just wouldn't stop. There was nothing I could do, and I tried and tried until I could barely make it out of the flames,” Elenor said. Since then, she has learned to better control her power. She assures the public, that even though she once was unable to douse the flames, that now it only responds when she wants it to. “I understand you p're probably afraid of me, she says. But you don't need to be.”

biased: 269

DANGEROUS GIRL IS FOUND TO HAVE POWERS

Elenor Wilder is a girl with a secret. She can “control” fire. Control, however, is not the correct term; she has no control whatsoever over her powers. It doesn't respond to her, only to her emotions, and those can be a volatile thing.

There's even further evidence to support this. When she was seven years old, she burned down her own house, causing the deaths of her entire family.

Let that sink in for a moment.

She claims that a nightmare induced the uncontrollable blaze. However, how can we trust her if she won't tell us what it was? We can only guess and grasp at theories. She also claims that she tried to stop it, which may be the case. However, the point still stands: she is dangerous. She cannot control her flames, and they could be set off by the slightest thing. How do we know that she won't set fire to something else? How do we know that our children, friends, and family will be safe?

The girl, Elenor, has supposedly not remembered the incident for eight years. During those years, she has been living with her adoptive family, the Wilders, where they did indeed know about her so called “gift”. Some people say the amnesia of the incident was probably a side effect that her brain used to protect her. However, what if she's been faking it? It's common for people to hide crimes, just like she could have. We believe that she should be punished for her actions to keep this community safe from her dangerous powers.

part 3
words: 509

BREAKING NEWS: SWC campers ON STRIKE!!!

This shocking turn of events after the POLAR BEAR team's strike left us all wondering: why?

Well, let's start at the beginning. On November 22nd, the POLAR BEAR team decided to strike. The POLAR BEARs are Alana, Amethyst, Soki, Rockie, Mouse, and Reese. Campers tried to write letters to them, in an attempt to convince them to return, but alas, it didn't work. Today, the campers decided to get back at them because they want Cabin Wars. Honestly, though, Cabin Wars insures that 90% of the campers only get maybe two hours of sleep, so really I'm not sure why.

I interviewed a camper, Skylar, to better understand the story.

NATT: What was your reason to want to strike?

SKYLAR: Okay, I woke up, everyone was screaming STRIKE, I went YES, and jumped in the chaos. Also because having a very recent memory of British strike chaos, I felt obligated to join.

N: What are your demands?

S: For me, personally? Better pay in mangoes, better conditions, an offical contract, and an offical Bangsian Workers' Union!

N: How long are you planning to strike for?

S: Fifteen months. Because if we strike we've got to do it properly.

Many other camps have also been striking. They also have many demands. Some of those are: books and mangoes, a mountain of coleslaw and Vivaldi the four seasons concert, servers and waffles, a big Mac and a lot of points to apocalyptic, infinity points to magical realism, medium roasted toenails, and grilled cheese. Now, let's ask a fellow reporter, Mr. Insert Name, some questions.

NATT: So, hello, Insert Name! It seems there's been quite a bit of chaos in SWC recently. What are your thoughts on this?

INSERT NAME: Well, first of all, can we talk about the demands list? I mean, infinity points I get (as long as they go to Paranormal), and better pay and conditions. Mangoes are also pretty normal. But medium roasted toenails and ninja butlers?! Actually, scratch that, I want ninja butlers too. Can I join the strike?

N: Um… yes. But after the interview. Next question, do you think the demands will be met?

IN: Well, some of them, yes. I mean, wasn't someone collecting toenails at the start of camp? Heck, we could even throw in some of the souls that were collected in July, mix those up, maybe make a nice toenail, soul, and mango stir fry. Sounds chaotic. Which is what SWCers seem to specialize in. That, and procrastination and pulling all nighters.

N: Alright, last question here. Before, we heard from Skylar, who said the campers were planning on striking for fifteen months. Is this reasonable, do you think?

IN: Is it reasonable? I don't know, I've never been in a strike before. I mean, sure, why not? If they want to strike, nothing's stopping them!

And there you have it, folks–the POLAR BEAR and campers strikes. Join us next week with our next issue of The SWC Gazette: Did Gurtle Really Eat Those Links?

part 4
words: 254

thing i critiqued: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/782809/?page=1#post-8244421

Okay, so first of all, I thought it was a really good article! It was funny but also informative (especially considering it's SWC and it's chaotic to say the least). A few things…

“Later, the leaders went on strike too. They were sick and tired of the lack of pay that came with being a leader. They added words, added points, and kept the whole SWC thing going. But, the leaders don't get the things that they need to keep the camp running.”

I think here you could combine some of these sentences so that they flow better. For example: Later, the leaders also went on strike! They were sick and tired of the lack of pay they received when they were the ones who added words and points and kept the entirety of SWC running.

The same thing for this section, here: “They were tired of constantly writing all these dailies. It was a thankless job, where you have to constantly think of original ideas for the campers to write about. But, people need these dailies so there would even be a camp.”
I would combine the second two sentences or use a semicolon to combine them; for example, “It was a thankless job, and they had to constantly think of original ideas for the campers to write about; however, the campers need these dailies for there to even be a camp.”

Also, I like how you ended it. It sums it up well and it says what you think could happen next. Okay, so first of all, I thought it was a really good article! It was funny but also informative (especially considering it's SWC and it's chaotic to say the least). A few things…

“Later, the leaders went on strike too. They were sick and tired of the lack of pay that came with being a leader. They added words, added points, and kept the whole SWC thing going. But, the leaders don't get the things that they need to keep the camp running.”
I think here you could combine some of these sentences so that they flow better. For example: Later, the leaders also went on strike! They were sick and tired of the lack of pay they received when they were the ones who added words and points and kept the entirety of SWC running.

The same thing for this section, here: “They were tired of constantly writing all these dailies. It was a thankless job, where you have to constantly think of original ideas for the campers to write about. But, people need these dailies so there would even be a camp.”
I would combine the second two sentences or use a semicolon to combine them; for example, “It was a thankless job, and they had to constantly think of original ideas for the campers to write about; however, the campers need these dailies for there to even be a camp.”

Also, I like how you ended it. It sums it up well and it says what you think could happen next.

Last edited by Natt519 (Nov. 24, 2024 00:04:37)

Zyzeryko

This is certainly a shocking twist to our 20 something session normality–for the first time in SWC’s long history, Cabin Wars have been postponed to the next day! With the lack of proper announcement, the main cabin quickly devolved into chaos as people scrambled to find out why the infamous day of war had been postponed–and so suddenly! Some people jumped with joy since they no longer had to face the stress of war, but many more were upset. A small riot started, led by Zy and inspired by Chuey, where the team smashed up many of the cabins lining main street. While some feared what they did not yet understand, even speculating the hosts had gone on strike themselves, Alia quickly appeared and put their fears to ease.
“We have something big planned,” was the only statement she gave the news team.
Alana also gave a personal statement, saying “trust me, it will be worth it,” in an interview urging people to enjoy their now free Saturdays.
On Friday afternoon at 4:00 pm (reporter’s timezone), people gathered in the main cabin excited for the second and final round of cabin wars for this session. People eagerly counted down the minutes, chanting each number until the clock hit zero—when the daily was changed. But not to cabin wars.
Confusion spread rapidly, some people saying it had been a mistake and swearing cabin wars were today, others saying it had been postponed, and others fearing it had been canceled all together. Alia quickly cleared that confusion, and a ton of happiness spread because of the fun daily in place of a bloody battlefield.

Notable quotes involving the chaos:
Ris notably said “wait where's cabin wats,” while Mildred assured us it was a dream and not real. Luna quickly complained that Eevee had risen up the leaderboard to first place, after having sent wars to multiple cabins that were, sadly, invalid. Which means more points for other cabins, and less for Mystery. The last comment before confusion ensued was Zy’s, stating “I’M SCARED” in all capitals, only to be quickly buried as people shouted their confusion.

Luka also promised to start another strike, a situation where after the polar bear team went on leave for underpayment, the leaders quickly followed—followed once more by the memory book committee. After this, even campers went on strike (including Luna, a self-appointed co-leader of mystery) and replaced their profile pictures with large strike images.

All in all, this definitely sparked a ton of additional strikes while other people cheered for the fun daily. Everyone yelled at each other (in fun), and there was plenty of chaos to be shared around the cabin during this confusing time.

Zyzeryko

Big SWC news! Recently, the POLAR BEARS team has quit for no apparent reason! Leaders and co-leaders were then filled with rage, before they also went on strike! Why am I doing this weekly then? I’m a leader right? Well, I’m just spreading the propaganda… (Editor's Note: I’ll remove this part later.) (It’s your editor. I am not removing it.)

Leaders have created the new ‘leader cabin’, they’re saying that until the hosts give the new leader cabin 1,000,000 points and food options of choice, they’ll be on strike! Will these demands be met?

Leaders are upset about the polar bears quitting–but what about the leaders? The strike was initiated by @ButterPopcorn8 (also known as Luka), and then a studio for the leader cabin was created by @ChueyTheCat (referred to as Chuey). All leaders and cos have been invited as managers of the studio, and Luka has created matching profile pictures for those in the strike (the author may have requested one…) (Editor’s Note: Removing this too. We are NOT revealing that the writer is a part of the strike.) (Hi, it’s your editor again. I will do no such thing.)

The leader cabin has compiled a list of food items they are demanding. The foods are
. Cheese and mooncakes
. Deep fried toes (could this be a reference to the swc events in the past?)
. Mangoes (a classic!)
. Veins (uh…)
. Souls and potato soup (not mine please!! I love potatoes though!!)
. The mascots (dramatic gasp!)
. Fingernails (…goes with the toes?)
. Crackers and boba
. Main cabin descriptions (no! please!)
. Mac and cheese
. Cookies
. Strawberry matcha
. Chocolate pudding with strawberries blueberries and ice cream
. Pickles (ehe mine!) (Editor's Note: Remove ALL mentions of the author being part of the strike.) (No, you’re in this with the rest of us muahahahaha)
. Happiness (how touching!)
. Sour patch kids (editor’s!)

It seems the same is happening for our campers! We can see that they also have a list of demands for the POLAR BEAR team! This list is as follows:

Books and mangoes
Mountain of coleslaw
Servers and waffles (servers?)
Exactly 10 chicken nuggets and a side of tater tots (I love potatoes!)
Character roleplay day (:0)
Mangoes and lasagna (classics i see…)
Justice for Historical Fiction and more books
Tomatoes and food related dailies
Working forums that won't crash every session and +100000000000000000000000 points to myth (yes!! Not the points though!!)
+100000000000000000000000 points for Myth (two people asked for it?)
Exactly 3 pomegranates and 37 bonus points to magreal
+100000000000000000 points to mystery (the author says no, but as the editor I am obliged to honor this request)
99999999999999 points to Sci-Fi (Sci-Fi for the win!!)
French cockades for everyone
Ice cream and also mint

The description states “Do NOT let the hosts or leaders know about this.” (Based on memory) Seems like they have been discovered though…All campers have been invited, but not all accepted it! I wonder whoever would’ve spent so much time inviting every single camper–-talk about a ton of work!

A few pictures of the incident have been taken, supposedly to be added to the memory book. This is a revolutionary development for all of Scratch Writing Camp history, it will go down as ‘The Very Official Strike of Leaders and Campers in SWC’

From what information we have gathered, the hosts have not responded…yet! Only time will tell as the campers, leaders, and polar bears alike riot and continue their strike.

CURRENT: The strike is still ongoing and more information will come out as time goes on.

-WildClan-

The crowd was restless in the moonlit clearing. Wolves from all across Sliver Pack had gathered for the Grand Song Circle, eager to hear Hurricane’s latest tale. The young Storyteller stood at the center, his silver fur gleaming under the pale light, voice weaving through the air like the night breeze. Tonight’s story was unlike the heroic epics he used to sing, though. This one spoke of betrayal, ambition, and a leader who wore a mask of virtue while wielding hidden daggers.
Hurricane’s voice carried the weight of conviction. “There was once a wolf who climbed the ranks, not by earning trust, but by spinning webs of lies. A wolf who sacrificed kin and Pack alike for power.” His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering briefly on Summit, seated near the circle’s edge. Summit’s expression remained calm, but his tail flicked once, a subtle warning.
Beside Hurricane, Blood sat in the shadows, invisible to the crowd but not to him. Her presence was a steadying force, a reminder of why he was doing this. She had trusted him with her truth, her pain, and he couldn’t turn away now, even if it cost him everything.
As Hurricane reached the climax of his tale, the tension in the clearing grew taut. He spoke of a leader who silenced dissent, who hid secrets that could shatter the Pack’s faith. Though he never named names, the implication was clear. Whispers spread like wildfire among the audience.
Summit rose, cutting through the murmurs with a commanding bark. “Hurricane, your words tonight are bold. Dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous.” His tone was measured, but his eyes gleamed with calculated malice. “You speak of betrayal and lies, yet how ironic that you would hide your own deceit.”
Hurricane stiffened, his gaze locking with Summit’s. “What are you saying?”
Summit stepped forward, his voice loud enough to carry to every ear. “I speak of the cursed shapeshifter you’ve been harboring. The one you’ve taken as a lover, even knowing what she is.” Gasps erupted from the crowd. Summit continued, relentless. “Blood, daughter of the exiled, tainted by the god’s curse. The one who murdered Cloud and hid in shame. And yet you defend her. You embrace her.”
Hurricane’s heart plummeted as the crowd’s shock turned to outrage. Blood shrank deeper into the shadows, her breaths shallow. Hurricane stepped forward, his voice rising to meet the tide of anger. “Blood is no murderer! She’s a victim of lies and manipulation—yours, Summit! You twist the truth to suit your ambitions. You’re using us all!!”
Summit’s lips curled into a victorious snarl. “You dare accuse me while standing by a monster? The essence of Havensbane itself? Your own words condemn you.”
The Pack Leader’s decree came swiftly, his authority undisputed. Hurricane was to be exiled, stripped of his status as a Storyteller. Blood’s fate was left unspoken, but the crowd’s eyes burned with fear and hatred. The same wolves that had only a day before cheered Hurricane’s name now turned their backs on him, only watching with sordid interest as Summit’s cruel, vicious grin loomed closer.
“I’ll go,” Hurricane conceded, backing down. He lifted his head and looked Summit square in the eyes. “But Havensbane is coming with me.”
Summit blinked in surprise as Blood slipped from the darkness to stand by Hurricane’s side. The shapeshifter smirked coldly at Summit’s sudden flash of weakness.
“So long, cousin,” she whispered to Summit, too soft for the crowd to hear. “I’ll be seeing you soon…”

Runaway--

Daily
406 words

Kai yawned, leaning against the side of the sofa. The house itself was quiet, asides from the gentle breaths of their dog across the room.

All it took was a second for the silence to be broken though, replaced by the quiet jingling of keys. Kai stood, reaching for the doorknob and turning it before their roommate could get in. They smiled, grabbing her bag and moving it without a word.

“ ‘Good day at school?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah- usual stuff. I have an essay to finish tonight- biology. I told my teacher I needed an extension to look after my brother, and she was nice about it-”

There’s a moment where it’s apparent Kai is about to say something, and as if feeling it their sister stops talking.

“Sibling. Sibling, now.”

Their sister glanced up at them and nodded, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a cookie out of the fridge. She held it up, tilting her head at Kai. “Want one?” Without waiting for a response, she tossed it over the counter, grinning when her sibling fumbled to catch the snack.

“So, I got an extension on my paper, which was nice. Have you learnt about DNA replication in school, yet? Because man, it gets so much worse. Be glad you only have to know the basics.”

Kai laughed, breaking off a piece of cookie and tossing it at their sister’s face. “We get it, you’re so smart and cool and take all the fancy classes…”

“That’s not what I said!”

“…sure.” They sat back down on the sofa, throwing their legs over the coffee table and flicking on the TV. “What do you want to watch?

“Is the news on?”

“Boring. First biology /out of school/, and then the news?! Let’s watch something cool. Like arcane!”

Kai’s sister huffed in begrudging agreement. “Alright… I guess that’ll do.”

She shuffled over, making room for Kai to sit and braid her hair. Before long Kai had fallen fast asleep, interlaced hair left forgotten. Their sister didn’t realise, too caught up in the show. It was like this so often- arguments over what to watch only for the other to become enamoured with whatever was on the screen. Jinx shoots her rocket, and the quiet music is what finally lulls her to sleep.

Just like that, the apartment is silent again. Silent asides from the sound of their dog, dreaming quietly in the corner.

-WildClan-

Blood is a canid (vaguely wolf-like, I'll call them wolves for now), and she was born with the rare ability to shapeshift, as the result of being descended from a failed experiment many generations ago. No one in the modern day remembers the details of the experiment; Blood's society just views the shapeshifting ability that pops up in an individual every few generations to be a curse from their god. Individuals with the shapeshifting ability are prone to a lot of nasty side effects since the experiment was ultimately a failure. Those who try to shapeshift may not be able to return to their original form, or they return with deformities. Even the ones that are successful are prone to mental/behavioral changes, including violent behavior, loss of memory, hallucinations, and losing touch with reality. In general, they are unstable and dangerous, and so they're scorned and cast out, or even killed, when they appear.

Blood, however, is a little bit better adapted. She didn't develop the shapeshifting ability until her young adulthood, and she didn't seem to be impacted by the physical side effects. (It did still affect her sanity, but this wasn't evident until much later.) Of course, if anyone found out, they still would have exiled or killed her. Her mother and cousin are the only ones who know, and they keep it a secret. Her mother is deeply religious and is horrified that her own daughter is apparently a demon. Her cousin, Summit, though, doesn't share the same ideals. He thinks the shapeshifting ability could be useful as a weapon, since Blood seemingly handles it so well.

Anyhow, that's all backstory. The action doesn't kick up until Blood gets her first boyfriend, a fellow named Cloud. He comes from a different Pack, and Blood's parents don't approve. Summit acts impartial. Cloud himself is a little bit of a jerk, with rumors that he's cheating and indulging in irresponsible behaviors. In any case, he ends up dead, and there's a murder mystery with many suspects. The disapproving, religious-zealot parents? The weirdly power-hungry Summit? Or the potentially dangerous secret shapeshifter Blood?

The community discovers Blood's curse and believes she is guilty, she is sent to the prison, but Summit has other plans. He convinces the prison warden, Rust, to not just contain her, but train her and help her learn to use her ability. Summit also hushes up the news and, since the prison is so isolated, pretty much prevents the larger Sliver Pack from even knowing of Blood's existence. Summit says he's doing all this to help and protect Blood, and she believes him.

Blood goes through some pretty harsh physical training at the paws of the strict, abrasive Rust, all while being mentally brainwashed into obedience and loyalty by Summit. She also still carries the deeply-ingrained religious beliefs of her parents and the trauma of Cloud's death. This is a dangerous cocktail of impressions for Blood, who is not even fully mature yet, to take to heart.

It all blows up when she overhears a performance by Hurricane, a famous young Storyteller in Sliver Pack. Having had little social contact other than with the prisoners and rough, unsympathetic Rust, she gets it into her head that she's in love with Hurricane, whose songs feel like a glimpse into a more fun, blissful world.

For so long, she had blindly obeyed Summit and Rust, but now, she begins to start thinking for herself, and once she starts, she can't stop. She sneaks out to watch Hurricane's next performance and manages to meet with him afterward. She comes on a little strong, initially deterring Hurricane. However, she persists, and Hurricane begins to soften towards her. Though Hurricane has no idea of Blood's history or her supposed status as a murderer, she reveals she knows Summit personally, and this is enough to catch Hurricane's attention. Hurricane and Summit, who by now is a prominent leadership figure, are close friends. Hurricane even helped Summit gain power by influencing the crowds in favor of Summit via songs and stories that painted Summit in a heroic light.

Summit has his sights on becoming the leader of all of Sliver Pack, and with Hurricane's support, he does. However, while he claims the crown, Blood and Hurricane grow closer, Hurricane genuinely falling in love with Blood. Blood confides in him about her relation to Summit and her current situation, and Hurricane realizes how manipulative and selfish Summit really is. Hurricane had already had doubts about Summit, as he had noticed some of the red flags in his so-called friendship with the leader, but this pushed it over the edge. Hurricane changes his tune and begins to spread anti-Summit messages in his stories.

It isn't long before Summit catches on to Hurricane's scheming and discovers his secret relationship with Blood. And Summit knows how to play the public opinion game, too. By revealing that Blood is a “cursed” shapeshifter and that Hurricane has been secretly making love with her, Summit ensures that Hurricane's credibility is ruined in the eyes of Sliver Pack. Like any famous person who is accused of a scandal, Hurricane is effectively “cancelled.”

Summit then, in private, tries to coax Blood back into being an obedient secret superweapon. Hurricane has other plans, though. He leaves Sliver Pack as an exile, but Blood comes with him- a direct affront to his ex-friend Summit. Hurricane may have “lost,” but not without taking this one small victory.

A victory which turns out to be a big deal later on, but that's another story!

Zyzeryko

“This just in,” the reporter said, unable to hide the shock in her face. Fire engulfed most of the bridge, bodies in heaps around the flames. “The arsonist the city’s police have been targeting for weeks now has made another shocking appearance. Earlier this friday night, the third day of a cold january, Arnold Aletech Rogers, the president of a large data bank in south Markotolo, drove his car into the car in front of him, giving them both some minor vehicle damage. No one was seriously injured and it seemed maybe everything was in the clear when suddenly, another car swerved from the right lane into both cars, causing a small fire. Powdered explosives had been scattered across the bridge, and the whole thing has quickly burned.
“I fear we are in great danger, citizens of Markotolo. The Image you now see on the screen is the suspect of these arson attacks, and if you have seen him any time in the past three years, from the year seventeen thirty six to twenty thirty nine, please report to this number. THis arsonist is incredibly dangerous and we recommend you avoid confrontation at all costs if you see him. It could result in you losing your life if you choose to ignore this warning. We will not be held accountable if you come face to face with the mystery figure and choose to fight or in any other face disregard our orders. Also, if you have any information about this figure that you are keeping from the police, you could face life in prison or death for your silence. It seems only fair, knowing what these people have suffered.”
Another figure came on screen. “Hello, everyone.” The other reporter looked terrified. “I am the arsonist you speak of. You may wonder why I committed these crimes–in fact, if you are not wondering that, I am confused by your lack of concern for your fellow citizens. Why? I like chaos. Chaos brings out the best in people. Everything humanity has accomplished for good has been during war or conflict. Pain brings us peace.”
“But… how?” the report shut out. .
“Everyone works for me. Arnold Rogers? My employee. Well, sort of. I bribed him. Wealthy people want more than money…. They want their secrets kept under lock and key. Me? I have so many, many locks. The keys are in your hands, friends. Stop me if you will, leave me if you won’t. I am indifferent either way, and at the end of the day your suffering means not to me.”
The bridge collapses. The part that was on fire, anyway. It tur4ns to dust in the brink of an eye, taking the reporter and the bodies and the fire with it. But the arsonist is still, floating amongst air and smoke in the sky. He laughs. “I’m sure this is a surprise for many of you. I hope it is. I am not someone easily defeatable in circumstances such as these.”

-WildClan-

Breaking News: Polar Bears Quit Daily Writing Team, Campers Go on Strike!

Chaos has erupted in Scratch Writing Camp, commonly known as SWC, following the sudden resignation of the entire Polar Bear daily-writing team on November 22nd. The shocking announcement has left campers scrambling, with many resorting to drastic measures to restore normalcy—including organizing a full-blown strike.
The Polar Bears, composed of Alana, Amethyst, Soki, Rockie, Mouse, and Reese, collectively stepped down from their roles on November 22nd, declining to give an explanation for this startling decision. Their abrupt departure has caused an uproar among campers and leaders alike.
While no official explanation has been provided, theories are swirling about the team’s motivations. Earlier reports have claimed the prevailing theory is that the team quit “for the points and the food,” hinting at an elaborate plan to accumulate rewards without the daily grind. Another popular idea is that the Polar Bears acted “for the chaos,” possibly relishing the pandemonium that would follow their resignation.
More outlandish theories have emerged, implicating Gurtle, SWC’s notorious troublemaking turtle mascot. Infamous for his link-eating antics and disastrous March 2024 rampage, some campers believe Gurtle may have twisted the Polar Bears’ minds. Others suspect Skog, Gurtle’s fellow mischief-maker, of orchestrating the chaos due to jealousy over Gurtle’s infamy, desiring to cause some problems of his own, even if that meant threatening the Polar Bears into stepping down. However, while these theories add drama, no solid evidence has surfaced to support them.
In the wake of the Polar Bears’ resignation, campers initially wrote heartfelt letters pleading for their return. Despite their best efforts, these appeals went unanswered. Frustrated and eager to resume SWC traditions, campers decided to take matters into their own hands.
“We’re going on strike until the Polar Bears return!” became the rallying cry as campers organized a collective walkout. The main demand? The reinstatement of the Polar Bears to restore order and ensure the much-anticipated Cabin Wars could proceed. Certain members of the strike also demand repayment in the form of mangoes and cabin points to make up for the damage caused to the fragile balance of the SWC community.
The strike has gained widespread support across cabins, with campers setting aside their usual rivalries to unite against this unprecedented disruption. While the situation has postponed Cabin Wars, campers are determined to make their voices heard. Already, they have established a headquarters on a different studio, organized protests, synchronized profile pictures, and are working their hardest to set things right.
The Polar Bears’ resignation and the ensuing strike have cast a shadow over the camp’s operations. Many worry that if this upheaval continues, it could jeopardize the remainder of the session, and even future sessions, if the Polar Bears fail to return. With the fourth and final weekly event approaching, all eyes are on the camp leadership to find a resolution. For now, though, there is no sign of the pandemonium settling, and Scratch Writing Campers can only hope that everything returns to normal soon.
Will the Polar Bears come back? Can SWC recover from this chaos? One thing is clear: the campers’ determination and creativity remain steadfast, even in the face of turmoil. Stay tuned for updates as this story develops!

Zyzeryko

“This just in,” the reporter said, unable to hide the shock in her face. Fire engulfed most of the bridge, bodies in heaps around the flames. “The arsonist the city’s police have been targeting for weeks now has made another shocking appearance. Earlier this friday night, the third day of a cold january, Arnold Aletech Rogers, the president of a large data bank in south Markotolo, drove his car into the car in front of him, giving them both some minor vehicle damage. No one was seriously injured and it seemed maybe everything was in the clear when suddenly, another car swerved from the right lane into both cars, causing a small fire. Powdered explosives had been scattered across the bridge, and the whole thing has quickly burned.
“I fear we are in great danger, citizens of Markotolo. The Image you now see on the screen is the suspect of these arson attacks, and if you have seen him any time in the past three years, from the year seventeen thirty six to twenty thirty nine, please report to this number. THis arsonist is incredibly dangerous and we recommend you avoid confrontation at all costs if you see him. It could result in you losing your life if you choose to ignore this warning. We will not be held accountable if you come face to face with the mystery figure and choose to fight or in any other face disregard our orders. Also, if you have any information about this figure that you are keeping from the police, you could face life in prison or death for your silence. It seems only fair, knowing what these people have suffered.”
Another figure came on screen. “Hello, everyone.” The other reporter looked terrified. “I am the arsonist you speak of. You may wonder why I committed these crimes–in fact, if you are not wondering that, I am confused by your lack of concern for your fellow citizens. Why? I like chaos. Chaos brings out the best in people. Everything humanity has accomplished for good has been during war or conflict. Pain brings us peace.”
“But… how?” the report shut out. .
“Everyone works for me. Arnold Rogers? My employee. Well, sort of. I bribed him. Wealthy people want more than money…. They want their secrets kept under lock and key. Me? I have so many, many locks. The keys are in your hands, friends. Stop me if you will, leave me if you won’t. I am indifferent either way, and at the end of the day your suffering means not to me.”
The bridge collapses. The part that was on fire, anyway. It tur4ns to dust in the brink of an eye, taking the reporter and the bodies and the fire with it. But the arsonist is still, floating amongst air and smoke in the sky. He laughs. “I’m sure this is a surprise for many of you. I hope it is. I am not someone easily defeatable in circumstances such as these.”

This just in: ice cream heist gone right, Sugarville ice cream store reopens at last! After the notorious pranksters Jenny and Max were finally caught with the ice cream, Mr. Cream was able to rebuild his shop. His employees were routinely fired and remain in prison forever, to this day. Their fates are truly uprpedbale, but we are all hoping for them to have a truly grueling demise. Maybe their deaths will be in order, for wrecking the shop of such beloved mr. Cream. His mother loves him a lot, and she will make sure (thankfully!) that these punishments match the crime committed against her lovely innocent son. I love mr. cram’s ice cream is very delicious, and the townspeople agree with me. We want justice and revenge for our beloved Mr. Cream and we will fight for it—who is with me? Seventy six percent of the townspeople agree with me, new studies show. They agree that we should punish the people responsible for this. We want justice! We want revenge! We will fight for it, maybe to the death!
In other news, the town ice cream shop is being quickly rebuilt by the best people in the entire world! THey donated all their supplies for no reason other than love and have been helping Mr. Cream got back on his feet after the attack. These people are truly amazing and we love them deeply! Shout out to them for being great. I met with one personally and I must say, truly a lovely woman. She donated a huge supply of organic, local grown milk to Mr. Cream because of her favorite ice cream flavor– blueberry muffin pue. She loves it, it's the only reason she's alive, and she donates for him and him alone. I hope you enjoyed reading about the lovely Mr. Cream and his supports!

The heist pulled off by Jenny and Max was an unfortunate success, but Mr. Cream has quickly been able to rebuild his ice cream empire from its fiery depths of prank hell. Following the heist, Mr. Cream was very, very sad. But he got his act together and scraped himself from the floor of his deranged and maddened state to put back together the most beloved ice cream in all of Sugervaille. He worked quickly and had help from all his beloved customers who loved his ice cream as dearly as he loved them. They sup;lied the wood, ice creams, milk, toppings, which included gummy worms, chocolate chips, mini chocolate chips, mint chips, peanut butter chips, gummy bears , sour gummy worms, and sour gummy bears. They all worked tirelessly to help get the shop back to its peak and Mr. Cream was overjoyed with their sacrifices. He had been a small local baker his whole life. And making this ice cream store was his drame since he was a boy, and when it had finally come to fusion he couldn't have been happier. He had even loved his employees who constantly played obviously plants on him, despite how much he cared for them. Mr Cream’s mom had played a huge role in helping rebuild as he supplied snacks and water and other delicious burgers that she made for all the people helping to rebuild her son’s shop. She taught him how to make delicious ice cream and he took her advice very seriously. She cared deeply for him and the business that provided her her son’s money, and she was grateful to all the brown people for their love of his business. Most p[eople hope that the accused pranksters will receive a just punishment, but their fate is up in the air as we speak.

This is certainly a shocking twist to our 20 something session normality–for the first time in SWC’s long history, Cabin Wars have been postponed to the next day! With the lack of proper announcement, the main cabin quickly devolved into chaos as people scrambled to find out why the infamous day of war had been postponed–and so suddenly! Some people jumped with joy since they no longer had to face the stress of war, but many more were upset. A small riot started, led by Zy and inspired by Chuey, where the team smashed up many of the cabins lining main street. While some feared what they did not yet understand, even speculating the hosts had gone on strike themselves, Alia quickly appeared and put their fears to ease.
“We have something big planned,” was the only statement she gave the news team.
Alana also gave a personal statement, saying “trust me, it will be worth it,” in an interview urging people to enjoy their now free Saturdays.
On Friday afternoon at 4:00 pm (reporter’s timezone), people gathered in the main cabin excited for the second and final round of cabin wars for this session. People eagerly counted down the minutes, chanting each number until the clock hit zero—when the daily was changed. But not to cabin wars.
Confusion spread rapidly, some people saying it had been a mistake and swearing cabin wars were today, others saying it had been postponed, and others fearing it had been canceled all together. Alia quickly cleared that confusion, and a ton of happiness spread because of the fun daily in place of a bloody battlefield.

Notable quotes involving the chaos:
Ris notably said “wait where's cabin wats,” while Mildred assured us it was a dream and not real. Luna quickly complained that Eevee had risen up the leaderboard to first place, after having sent wars to multiple cabins that were, sadly, invalid. Which means more points for other cabins, and less for Mystery. The last comment before confusion ensued was Zy’s, stating “I’M SCARED” in all capitals, only to be quickly buried as people shouted their confusion.

Luka also promised to start another strike, a situation where after the polar bear team went on leave for underpayment, the leaders quickly followed—followed once more by the memory book committee. After this, even campers went on strike (including Luna, a self-appointed co-leader of mystery) and replaced their profile pictures with large strike images.

All in all, this definitely sparked a ton of additional strikes while other people cheered for the fun daily. Everyone yelled at each other (in fun), and there was plenty of chaos to be shared around the cabin during this confusing time.

Big SWC news! Recently, the POLAR BEARS team has quit for no apparent reason! Leaders and co-leaders were then filled with rage, before they also went on strike! Why am I doing this weekly then? I’m a leader right? Well, I’m just spreading the propaganda… (Editor's Note: I’ll remove this part later.) (It’s your editor. I am not removing it.)

Leaders have created the new ‘leader cabin’, they’re saying that until the hosts give the new leader cabin 1,000,000 points and food options of choice, they’ll be on strike! Will these demands be met?

Leaders are upset about the polar bears quitting–but what about the leaders? The strike was initiated by @ButterPopcorn8 (also known as Luka), and then a studio for the leader cabin was created by @ChueyTheCat (referred to as Chuey). All leaders and cos have been invited as managers of the studio, and Luka has created matching profile pictures for those in the strike (the author may have requested one…) (Editor’s Note: Removing this too. We are NOT revealing that the writer is a part of the strike.) (Hi, it’s your editor again. I will do no such thing.)

The leader cabin has compiled a list of food items they are demanding. The foods are
. Cheese and mooncakes
. Deep fried toes (could this be a reference to the swc events in the past?)
. Mangoes (a classic!)
. Veins (uh…)
. Souls and potato soup (not mine please!! I love potatoes though!!)
. The mascots (dramatic gasp!)
. Fingernails (…goes with the toes?)
. Crackers and boba
. Main cabin descriptions (no! please!)
. Mac and cheese
. Cookies
. Strawberry matcha
. Chocolate pudding with strawberries blueberries and ice cream
. Pickles (ehe mine!) (Editor's Note: Remove ALL mentions of the author being part of the strike.) (No, you’re in this with the rest of us muahahahaha)
. Happiness (how touching!)
. Sour patch kids (editor’s!)

It seems the same is happening for our campers! We can see that they also have a list of demands for the POLAR BEAR team! This list is as follows:

Books and mangoes
Mountain of coleslaw
Servers and waffles (servers?)
Exactly 10 chicken nuggets and a side of tater tots (I love potatoes!)
Character roleplay day (:0)
Mangoes and lasagna (classics i see…)
Justice for Historical Fiction and more books
Tomatoes and food related dailies
Working forums that won't crash every session and +100000000000000000000000 points to myth (yes!! Not the points though!!)
+100000000000000000000000 points for Myth (two people asked for it?)
Exactly 3 pomegranates and 37 bonus points to magreal
+100000000000000000 points to mystery (the author says no, but as the editor I am obliged to honor this request)
99999999999999 points to Sci-Fi (Sci-Fi for the win!!)
French cockades for everyone
Ice cream and also mint

The description states “Do NOT let the hosts or leaders know about this.” (Based on memory) Seems like they have been discovered though…All campers have been invited, but not all accepted it! I wonder whoever would’ve spent so much time inviting every single camper–-talk about a ton of work!

A few pictures of the incident have been taken, supposedly to be added to the memory book. This is a revolutionary development for all of Scratch Writing Camp history, it will go down as ‘The Very Official Strike of Leaders and Campers in SWC’

From what information we have gathered, the hosts have not responded…yet! Only time will tell as the campers, leaders, and polar bears alike riot and continue their strike.

CURRENT: The strike is still ongoing and more information will come out as time goes on.

AmazaEevee

Critique for Luka
11/23/2024
155 words

Hi Luka!! Let's just get right into the critique!

Welcome to the SWC daily readers! …

I feel like this feels a lot more conversational than newspaper-y? I guess it feels more like a newsletter than a news article to me, which isn't a bad tone, but eh- It feels a lot less formal and more conversational, which isn't necessarily the tone that an informative article would have. At least that how I'll be seeing it.

(Which is very relatable, but let’s get back on track.)

Like my last comment, this doesn't seem very professional ^^" It kind of breaks off from the professionality of it all, but it is a fun and goofy addition.

The statement ended up sparking outrage in other leaders, who also expressed the same desires as Luka. Leaders such as Chuey, Yume, Finley and Yume all joined in, lobbying for the hosts to meet their demand, and when that evidently did not happen, the strike began. Chuey, a leader in Fantasy, founded the apparent leader cabin alongside Luka, Yume and Luna, and garnered attention and support from various leaders, and a growing list of demands were collected, calling for various food items, money, and…fingernails?

I like the way that this paragraph is written!

What was unexpected however, was when the campers began to follow suit, inspired by the brave actions of the leaders and angered by their exclusion from the strike. This led to the creation of the camper cabin, along with the creation of a list of demands for the hosts. It is unknown whether these… interesting demands will be met anytime soon.

I think this adds an interesting set up, leaving readers for more, even as you end the article.

Coined once again by Luka, to this date, over fourty campers and leaders have ordered their respective profile pictures, and they are now becoming a prominent symbol in the community.

~~

Overall, I think that there is a bit of a lack in professionalism, but it is a very fun read and it is informative. Thanks for letting me critique this, Luka!

Last edited by AmazaEevee (Nov. 23, 2024 23:59:24)

-WildClan-

god this whole thing is a dumpster fire, I am not a journalism fan ;_;

edit: accidentally copy/pasted everything twice, fixed it now though :'DD

PART 1: Fictional Events

The crowd was restless in the moonlit clearing. Wolves from all across Sliver Pack had gathered for the Grand Song Circle, eager to hear Hurricane’s latest tale. The young Storyteller stood at the center, his silver fur gleaming under the pale light, voice weaving through the air like the night breeze. Tonight’s story was unlike the heroic epics he used to sing, though. This one spoke of betrayal, ambition, and a leader who wore a mask of virtue while wielding hidden daggers.
Hurricane’s voice carried the weight of conviction. “There was once a wolf who climbed the ranks, not by earning trust, but by spinning webs of lies. A wolf who sacrificed kin and Pack alike for power.” His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering briefly on Summit, seated near the circle’s edge. Summit’s expression remained calm, but his tail flicked once, a subtle warning.
Beside Hurricane, Blood sat in the shadows, invisible to the crowd but not to him. Her presence was a steadying force, a reminder of why he was doing this. She had trusted him with her truth, her pain, and he couldn’t turn away now, even if it cost him everything.
As Hurricane reached the climax of his tale, the tension in the clearing grew taut. He spoke of a leader who silenced dissent, who hid secrets that could shatter the Pack’s faith. Though he never named names, the implication was clear. Whispers spread like wildfire among the audience.
Summit rose, cutting through the murmurs with a commanding bark. “Hurricane, your words tonight are bold. Dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous.” His tone was measured, but his eyes gleamed with calculated malice. “You speak of betrayal and lies, yet how ironic that you would hide your own deceit.”
Hurricane stiffened, his gaze locking with Summit’s. “What are you saying?”
Summit stepped forward, his voice loud enough to carry to every ear. “I speak of the cursed shapeshifter you’ve been harboring. The one you’ve taken as a lover, even knowing what she is.” Gasps erupted from the crowd. Summit continued, relentless. “Blood, daughter of the exiled, tainted by the god’s curse. The one who murdered Cloud and hid in shame. And yet you defend her. You embrace her.”
Hurricane’s heart plummeted as the crowd’s shock turned to outrage. Blood shrank deeper into the shadows, her breaths shallow. Hurricane stepped forward, his voice rising to meet the tide of anger. “Blood is no murderer! She’s a victim of lies and manipulation—yours, Summit! You twist the truth to suit your ambitions. You’re using us all!!”
Summit’s lips curled into a victorious snarl. “You dare accuse me while standing by a monster? The essence of Havensbane itself? Your own words condemn you.”
The Pack Leader’s decree came swiftly, his authority undisputed. Hurricane was to be exiled, stripped of his status as a Storyteller. Blood’s fate was left unspoken, but the crowd’s eyes burned with fear and hatred. The same wolves that had only a day before cheered Hurricane’s name now turned their backs on him, only watching with sordid interest as Summit’s cruel, vicious grin loomed closer.
“I’ll go,” Hurricane conceded, backing down. He lifted his head and looked Summit square in the eyes. “But Havensbane is coming with me.”
Summit blinked in surprise as Blood slipped from the darkness to stand by Hurricane’s side. The shapeshifter smirked coldly at Summit’s sudden flash of weakness.
“So long, cousin,” she whispered to Summit, too soft for the crowd to hear. “I’ll be seeing you soon…”

PART 2: Bias

(I wrote about the event in @Natt519’s piece: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/786802/?page=23#post-8249049 )

Unbiased

Strange Creature Causes Stir in Local Coffee Shop
On a quiet Thursday afternoon, a local coffee shop became the scene of an unusual encounter when a mysterious creature entered, sending customers and staff into a frenzy. According to witnesses, the animal resembled a mix of a chinchilla, lizard, and monkey, with sharp claws and bright blue eyes. Despite its unusual appearance, the creature displayed no aggression.
An employee was the first to react, fleeing the shop in alarm, followed quickly by the remaining customers. One patron, however, stayed behind and observed the animal’s behavior. The individual described the creature as “kind of furry, with little paws,” and noted its peculiar fondness for mini marshmallows, which it found in the shop's storage area.
The patron made several attempts to interact with the animal, offering it marshmallows and even giving it the name “Pip.” The creature appeared friendly, even following the individual around the shop.
Police were eventually called to the scene, though it remains unclear what action was taken regarding the creature. The patron, anticipating potential trouble, left before the authorities arrived.
It is unknown where the creature came from or whether it has been captured. The incident has sparked curiosity and speculation, with locals wondering if Pip could be a rare, undiscovered species or even the result of genetic experimentation. For now, the coffee shop remains closed as the investigation continues.
Please stay tuned for more information as more information is gathered. We will do our best to provide you with the most accurate, up-to-date findings of this uncommon situation.

Biased

A Curious Hero Befriends a Magical Creature in Local Café
In what can only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime encounter, a brave writer turned chaos into a magical moment when an adorable, mysterious creature burst into a local coffee shop. While the rest of the patrons and even the employee fled in fear, one courageous individual chose curiosity over panic, staying behind to connect with the enigmatic visitor.
The creature, dubbed “Pip” by its new friend, was an enchanting mix of fur, claws, and big blue eyes. Although sharp-clawed, Pip was far from dangerous. Instead, the creature showed a sweet and playful side, particularly with its love for mini marshmallows. It gobbled them up eagerly while showing no sign of hostility, even letting the writer pet its head like a domesticated kitten.
Unlike the others, who chose cowardice and chaos, this bold observer saw a story unfolding. Instead of running, they stayed to feed Pip marshmallows, proving that a little courage and kindness could reveal the gentle nature of even the most unusual beings.
Tragically, this heartwarming moment was interrupted by the arrival of the police, likely called by overreacting bystanders. The writer, valuing Pip’s freedom, bid the creature farewell rather than risk its capture. “Bye, Pip. I’d run if I were you,” they said heroically before exiting the shop.
Pip, the café’s unexpected guest, may be gone, but the magical connection it created will be remembered. What others saw as chaos, one person saw as a moment of beauty—and the rest of us can only aspire to such wonder.

PART 3: SWC Events

Breaking News: Polar Bears Quit Daily Writing Team, Campers Go on Strike!

Chaos has erupted in Scratch Writing Camp, commonly known as SWC, following the sudden resignation of the entire Polar Bear daily-writing team on November 22nd. The shocking announcement has left campers scrambling, with many resorting to drastic measures to restore normalcy—including organizing a full-blown strike.
The Polar Bears, composed of Alana, Amethyst, Soki, Rockie, Mouse, and Reese, collectively stepped down from their roles on November 22nd, declining to give an explanation for this startling decision. Their abrupt departure has caused an uproar among campers and leaders alike.
While no official explanation has been provided, theories are swirling about the team’s motivations. Earlier reports have claimed the prevailing theory is that the team quit “for the points and the food,” hinting at an elaborate plan to accumulate rewards without the daily grind. Another popular idea is that the Polar Bears acted “for the chaos,” possibly relishing the pandemonium that would follow their resignation.
More outlandish theories have emerged, implicating Gurtle, SWC’s notorious troublemaking turtle mascot. Infamous for his link-eating antics and disastrous March 2024 rampage, some campers believe Gurtle may have twisted the Polar Bears’ minds. Others suspect Skog, Gurtle’s fellow mischief-maker, of orchestrating the chaos due to jealousy over Gurtle’s infamy, desiring to cause some problems of his own, even if that meant threatening the Polar Bears into stepping down. However, while these theories add drama, no solid evidence has surfaced to support them.
In the wake of the Polar Bears’ resignation, campers initially wrote heartfelt letters pleading for their return. Despite their best efforts, these appeals went unanswered. Frustrated and eager to resume SWC traditions, campers decided to take matters into their own hands.
“We’re going on strike until the Polar Bears return!” became the rallying cry as campers organized a collective walkout. The main demand? The reinstatement of the Polar Bears to restore order and ensure the much-anticipated Cabin Wars could proceed. Certain members of the strike also demand repayment in the form of mangoes and cabin points to make up for the damage caused to the fragile balance of the SWC community.
The strike has gained widespread support across cabins, with campers setting aside their usual rivalries to unite against this unprecedented disruption. While the situation has postponed Cabin Wars, campers are determined to make their voices heard. Already, they have established a headquarters on a different studio, organized protests, synchronized profile pictures, and are working their hardest to set things right.
The Polar Bears’ resignation and the ensuing strike have cast a shadow over the camp’s operations. Many worry that if this upheaval continues, it could jeopardize the remainder of the session, and even future sessions, if the Polar Bears fail to return. With the fourth and final weekly event approaching, all eyes are on the camp leadership to find a resolution. For now, though, there is no sign of the pandemonium settling, and Scratch Writing Campers can only hope that everything returns to normal soon.
Will the Polar Bears come back? Can SWC recover from this chaos? One thing is clear: the campers’ determination and creativity remain steadfast, even in the face of turmoil. Stay tuned for updates as this story develops!

PART 4: Editing

(@moosywoosy)

Your report about the Polar Bears quitting and the strike is really fun to read, with so much energy and personality shining through! The humor, like mentioning “deep-fried toes” or how much you love potatoes, adds a playful tone that fits perfectly with SWC’s chaotic vibe. I love how you included all those demands from both the leaders and campers—it really shows how absurd and funny the situation is while giving a lot of context. Plus, the references to SWC history, like the past events with deep-fried toes, show you really understand the camp’s culture, which makes it super relatable for readers. That said, the structure is a bit all over the place. It feels like the report is jumping around a lot—from talking about the leaders, to the campers, to your own thoughts—without much flow. Maybe if you organized it into sections like “Leader Strike,” “Camper Demands,” and “Reactions,” it would make more sense, but honestly, the messy vibe kind of adds to the charm since it feels like someone reporting live from the chaos. The editor’s notes are funny, but they make it look unfinished—though, again, that kind of works with the whole “disorganized SWC strike” theme. I’d say the biggest thing to watch out for is not letting all the jokes and side notes (“not mine please!! I love potatoes!!”) overshadow the actual information. Overall, though, it’s such a fun and lively take on the situation, and the slightly messy, over-the-top style works really well for this kind of chaotic story!

Last edited by -WildClan- (Nov. 24, 2024 00:07:56)

Zyzeryko

I don’t want the peace of forgiveness. I want the peace of revenge. You may curse me with your death, but I will sleep soundly knowing you can never harm another. There is no high road I wish to take, no violence I do not wish returned, and no man big enough to pay for your sins.

You steal my vision and have the audacity to preach at me your own morality. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” laughs the liar with both eyes.

You say that if you fight fire with fire the whole world goes up in smoke, yet only one of us wields a match, and if you are so willing to light that match as you blame me for the ashes, there is nothing that would please me more than to watch the world burn if it means you go up in flames. We will build our castles on your ashes.

You claim violence for violence is the rule of the beasts, after terrorizing the people who’s mercy you are now at. You have no right to sit alone on your throne of blood pretending to care about retribution when you fear only merciless justice, cold with a one-eyed stare. The only beast in this room is you.

Revenge seems only a two headed snake after you have bitten us and fear our teeth. Karma’s bite is worse than poison, and I intend to prove it to you.

You scream at me to take the high road from the pits of hell.

The bigger man. The better person. If allowing your filth presented as morality to thrive is bigger, better, higher, and somehow right, evil can overcome me.

You are the worst kind of monster. The kind who pretends to give whilst you shove your knives deeper into our backs. You are a monster who pretends to care while encouraging the suffering of innocent people. Your facade is glass shattered.

You are the instigator of our suffering. You killed us to blame us for our own demise—so if your demise means mine, I will relish in your suffering. Stop telling me to be better than you when, solely for your display of such horrid evil, I already am.
I hope you feel my anger as the steel blade of a knife to your throat. I hope you think of me in agony when you are rejoined with the stars. What kind of god must you think yourself to take the lives and innocence of others, only to feel rage when it is done in return? I may have as equal wrath as you, but I did not start this fire. I only fuel the flames of the war with my hope—-promise—-of justice. The day you stop telling the people whom you forced to adapt to your evil to become the bigger man and the better person is the day that you may find your peace with the sky. Don’t you dare preach at me morality that you don’t even follow.

Call it revenge. Call it justice. Call it retribution. Hell, call it karma. Payment, atonement. A score now settled. Give it any name you like—-fate chooses its victors, and when I win the word they call your death will have no effect.

“How quickly the hawk becomes a dove when faced with the barrel of a gun,” they say. And for once, I agree.

I will not be the bigger man for someone else's crimes. We will not walk away in silence. You will feel our suffering in full, and maybe then you will realize that for the suffering you alone have brought us, the pain you inflicted upon the innocent, the rage that now fills the stomachs you starved, that no man is big enough.

Now the cards are in your hands, faded in red and black ink. Your path is not engraved, yet you blindly follow it.
Don’t make the same mistake twice.

booklover883322

Critique for Zy!! (word count: 754)

alkdsflkhasdlfkhasdlkf Zy I loved reading this! This is such an interesting take on the concept of revenge versus forgiveness, and how different situations and different people call for different reactions. I really enjoyed getting to read it, and I had a really hard time finding things to critique. I will be making a bit of syntax suggestions, but not a lot, I think. After I go through each section individually, I’ll give my overall thoughts at the end! You did a wonderful job!

I don’t want the peace of forgiveness. I want the peace of revenge. You may curse me with your death, but I will sleep soundly knowing you can never harm another. There is no high road I wish to take, no violence I do not wish returned, and no man big enough to pay for your sins.
I love this opening! It’s quite effective at opening your story and really sets the scene for the ideas that you’re going to present later on. It’s very strongly worded, and catches the reader (aka me) off-guard, which is a great strength to what you’re trying to convey! One small thing would be the use of the word “can”. I would suggest “will” instead, since it has a more concrete feel to it. It has more confidence to it, with just a single difference in the words.

You steal my vision and have the audacity to preach at me your own morality. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” laughs the liar with both eyes.
I love this as well! It starts to paint a picture for the audience, and I think that it’s really effective! No notes on this section!

You say that if you fight fire with fire the whole world goes up in smoke, yet only one of us wields a match, and if you are so willing to light that match as you blame me for the ashes, there is nothing that would please me more than to watch the world burn if it means you go up in flames. We will build our castles on your ashes.
Ooooh- This is really good too! (you’re going to get tired of my compliments, don’t you worry-) One small thing that I would suggest would be that you break up the first sentence, even if it’s just with a semicolon. I really like how it sounds as if someone is speaking this entire piece, and this sentence helps with that. If that’s your intention, then this advice doesn’t make as much sense aha-

You claim violence for violence is the rule of the beasts, after terrorizing the people who’s mercy you are now at. You have no right to sit alone on your throne of blood pretending to care about retribution when you fear only merciless justice, cold with a one-eyed stare. The only beast in this room is you.
Ack- I’m gonna say it again! This is REALLY powerful imagery and really powerful wording. I think that you’ve nailed it! Small thing, but it would be “whose” not “who’s”.

Revenge seems only a two headed snake after you have bitten us and fear our teeth. Karma’s bite is worse than poison, and I intend to prove it to you.

You scream at me to take the high road from the pits of hell.

The bigger man. The better person. If allowing your filth presented as morality to thrive is bigger, better, higher, and somehow right, evil can overcome me.
Oh my gosh- I love this! I also really agree with the statement at the end. Like, so many people always tell you to just stay quiet, that it’s the right thing to do. However, not calling out bad behavior is gross! I really like how this is a commentary on this attitude that society often holds, and I really like how you conveyed this message!

You are the worst kind of monster. The kind who pretends to give whilst you shove your knives deeper into our backs. You are a monster who pretends to care while encouraging the suffering of innocent people. Your facade is glass shattered.
Ooh! I’m wondering a few things. First of all, what is the ‘monster’ giving? It might be a good idea to add something, even if it’s very generic. Just something that makes the action of giving seem a bit more tangible. Also, the wording of “glass shattered” is a little strange to me. This is just personal preference, but I think that something that “glass now shattered” or “shattered glass” would work a bit better <3

You are the instigator of our suffering. You killed us to blame us for our own demise—so if your demise means mine, I will relish in your suffering. Stop telling me to be better than you when, solely for your display of such horrid evil, I already am.
I hope you feel my anger as the steel blade of a knife to your throat. I hope you think of me in agony when you are rejoined with the stars. What kind of god must you think yourself to take the lives and innocence of others, only to feel rage when it is done in return? I may have as equal wrath as you, but I did not start this fire. I only fuel the flames of the war with my hope—-promise—-of justice. The day you stop telling the people whom you forced to adapt to your evil to become the bigger man and the better person is the day that you may find your peace with the sky. Don’t you dare preach at me morality that you don’t even follow.
Love it, love it! This is like the climax of the text, which I really love!! One small thing, I think that “are rejoined” is a bit more effective as “rejoin”. The rest of the section is in present tense, so the tense change there is a bit out of place.

Call it revenge. Call it justice. Call it retribution. Hell, call it karma. Payment, atonement. A score now settled. Give it any name you like—-fate chooses its victors, and when I win the word they call your death will have no effect.

“How quickly the hawk becomes a dove when faced with the barrel of a gun,” they say. And for once, I agree.

I will not be the bigger man for someone else's crimes. We will not walk away in silence. You will feel our suffering in full, and maybe then you will realize that for the suffering you alone have brought us, the pain you inflicted upon the innocent, the rage that now fills the stomachs you starved, that no man is big enough.

Now the cards are in your hands, faded in red and black ink. Your path is not engraved, yet you blindly follow it.
Don’t make the same mistake twice.
The more I read this, the more that I really wish that it would be read in a spoken word competition or something- It would be so powerful when delivered verbally, even more powerful than it is already, which is saying something! I really, really love this, and I think that it’s an incredibly effective ending to your piece. It could just be me, but I’m a bit confused by the very last line. It seems like the ‘monster’ throughout the whole piece is a repeat offender and often does these heinous things. It’s probably just me, but it’s slightly confusing.

Overall, this is absolutely and utterly amazing and I really enjoyed reading it! You are incredibly good at writing, and I love how this mesh of moral claims and story beats all come together. It’s absolutely wonderful, and a great commentary on how a large part of society views morality and how ‘oh but it doesn’t apply to me for some reason because I’m better because I said so!’ is something that horrible people say to justify their horrific actions. It’s incredibly effective, and I think that it does a great job at accomplishing its goal. Conceptually, it’s amazing! The piece does leave a lot to the imagination, but I like it! Depending on your intent, this can either hurt or help your goal that you have with the piece. I think that the somewhat vagueness works, but just pointing that out! You did so amazingly, and I’m in awe of just how masterfully you crafted this story. Wonderful job <3

Last edited by booklover883322 (Nov. 24, 2024 03:53:04)

theawesomemarbler

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Secrets of the Rose Garden

I couldn't see, I could only rely on his hand clutching mine as he led me there. But the route he'd taken was so familiar I knew where we were headed.

“Luke, how much longer?”
“Almost.”
“Quickly, before they return.”

My parents. My arrogant, greedy parents, wanting nothing more but a perfect lifestyle, even if it meant suffering for others. I'd always feared to have power, because it'll make me greedy. But being with Luke made me who I truly want to be: someone ordinary. Someone who could learn from others. Every time I hung around with Luke, I was always scared. My parents who see peasants unworthy of my time. But my peasant here is my best friend. I can't imagine my life without him. I would feel empty, meaningless.

“Hey, we're here!”

Luke lifted the blindfold from my eye, I gasped in shock at what he'd done.

It was our secret place, where we would stay all day while my parents obsessed themselves with royal work. It's a flower garden that's somehow so well kept even when we first opened the rusty metal gates that revealed this hidden garden to us. But Luke made it better. There were multiple flower bundles lining up towards the center of the garden, where I saw an archway decorated with delicate roses.

Luke clasped my hand as we walked. I began to take in the details of the decorations. It must've taken a lot of time.

“Luke… what's this all about?”

Luke stopped abruptly, I realized I may have sounded too rude.

“I mean, these decorations… They're magnificent, but why?”

Luke turned around and faced me. I never felt so vulnerable the moment I looked into his eyes. Gentle, but serious. He held both of my hands, whispering,

“Because, I have to confess that I-”

BANG.

Gunshot. I turned around to find where it came from, but my vision turned pitch black. I reached out to feel Luke in front of me, wanting to feel his warmth and embrace.

But he was not there.

“Luke!” I called out, the feeling of loneliness was horrible. “Where are you?!”

A moan replied my calls.

“Luke?” I stayed silent, trying to hear where the sound came from. I noticed a dark figure stooping, its hands were fingering an object that seemed like a stem. That's when I heard a voice, thundering three words repeatedly, like it's reverberating in my head.

“Let me out.”

The voice was agonizing. I can't shut it out, like the pain of the voice affected me too. It was too much. I fell to the floor as the figure stood up, still twiddling with the stem in its hand. Then I smelt it: the pungent fragrance of a rose. The smell was too strong, I could barely focus, as though the rose was seeping away my consciousness. The last thing I saw was the bright red eyes of the figure.

I jolted out of my sleep, feeling two beady drops of sweat flow down my face and land on my sheets. I gasped heavily for breath, relieved.

“Oh… It's just a dream…”

I glanced at the grandfather clock hanging on the wall. It was hard to tell the time, as those red eyes in my dream still burned my vision, but I could tell that it was almost noon. “Ah, I have to get ready!” That's when I noticed a note tucked under the vase containing a bundle of roses right beside my bed.

Hey, babe. You're probably still asleep, so I'm writing this to ask if you would want to meet at our garden at 1pm? I've got a BIGGGGG surprise for you!

Luke

I smiled as I placed down the note, and dressed into simple clothes. It's been 10 years since I left the palace, a place of restriction and misery, a place that's not home. But I'm at home now, living a perfect life with my husband. I stole the gold my parents had stashed away just so the both of us can live together, happily ever after. For 10 years, we had not wanted more; for 10 years we had been happy; for 10 years I was free.

My, 10 years must've been a streak of happiness for you!

I was stunned by the voice, I was alone.

“You were never happy, and even if you were, it didn't last long. It never did.”

“What? What are you talking about!” I managed to identify the voice amongst the bundle of roses, like it's echoing within the layer of petals.

"You are avoiding something, but you never admit it. The answer lies in the roses. Turn back. You cannot ignore this any longer. It's been 10 years.

You have to wake up."

The final words snapped me to reality, the color of the petals had turned a depressing blue.

I glanced at the time, “Oh no! It's already half-past 12!” Before I rushed out of the room, I looked back to the vase of roses. Then I noticed it, those red eyes ever so significant in the blue bundle of roses. In an instant it was gone. Disturbed, I checked the clock again, it was almost 1pm. I needed to go.

I ran into the garden right behind our house, which was decorated just like the garden me and Luke always met up. But just like the time when he confessed to me, Luke arranged the bouquet of roses along an aisle. I slowly walked down the pathway, noting each rose color. White, yellow, pink, red. It was pretty. I begged Luke to make our garden as beautiful as our secret place. It was the place that changed everything.

I was in my hiding spot in the garden labyrinth, finally able to release those suppressed tears. No one will find me here.

“Hey, why are you crying?”

I tried to cease my crying. A boy my age was kneeling next to me, except he's entirely dirty and was wearing clothes with patches. He didn't seem to mind however.

“I…"

I couldn't calm down from the suffering I'd faced today. It was so stressful, royal work. I can't imagine I'd do this for the rest of my life. The thought made me weep more. I started to choke.

“Hey, don't cry. Come, I'll show you a place where you'll cheer up.”

He led me further down the labyrinth path, I was still sobbing uncontrollably, unable to calm down. I couldn't breathe, it was unbearable.

“Here, open this gate.”

I obliged, and was astounded.

That was my first introduction to the secret garden, seeing life abundantly blooming in here was a sight for my gloomy life.

“You like it?”

I nodded.

“What's your name?”

I stayed silent.

“Hmm, not a talker?” He held out his hand, “I'm Luke. I'm just passing by here to find the mythical forest that grants wishes to people, but I went past this garden yesterday and was astounded by its beauty.”

I accepted his hand, shocked at how he can talk so well.

“There you are!”

My father's booming voice made me jump.

“We looked for you all over the palace, and you're talking to a filthy peasant??”
“I-”
“Were you crying? Toughen up! A royal shouldn't be weak. Let's go.”

I left reluctantly, leaving Luke perplexed at my father's behavior.

We met again the next day, next week, next year, next 10 years, always in that secret garden. Because it's the place where I first found joy, where things wouldn't be shared to anyone but us.

I awoke from my reverie once Luke called my name. I approached him, noticing a bouquet of colorful roses in his hand.

“Happy 10th anniversary.”

I smiled, “Really, Luke? That's the surprise?”

Luke blushed, I began to chuckle.

“Hey, I have other things planned y'know!”

Despite what happened, I managed to feel genuinely happy. Nothing can go wrong on this day.

Happy. Happy. HAPPY.

My happy moments never last long.

Turning back at the aisle of roses, I noticed the bouquet of red roses had turned black.

“Uhh, Luke?” I returned to him, seeing he was burning something in a furnace that came out of nowhere.

“Luke? What are you-” He dropped the object he was burning. A blackened rose. My legs were frozen, as I saw his luminescent red eyes pierced through my soul.

The figure pounced on me before I could react, the stem of the black rose started to grow longer and longer as it slowly made its way to my legs. It began to bind me, immobilizing me.

“H-Help…” Then I remembered.

“The roses! I need it, but which one?”

I frantically searched for the rose. Yellow, pink, red, white. Which one? The rose stalk was crawling up to my torso, and eventually my arms. Time is running out. I turned my head, and saw the blossom that I somehow knew it was it. I snatched the blue rose, and a memory resurfaced.

Everything was ready. All our possessions were packed, the stolen gold hidden in my trunk. Today's the day when I run away from everything. We were at our secret garden, hanging out one final time before we leave its gates forever.

“Luke, I forgot to ask all these years, but what's your favorite type of rose?”

Luke plucked a bright red rose from the ground, answering. “It's this. Because red roses not only symbolize love, but also courage. Allowing me to be brave and protect those I love and be strong.”

I smiled, “My favorite are the white roses. They just look pretty. Pure and innocent.”

Luke chuckled, “Just like how perfect you are, Michael.”

He suddenly kissed me, I was hesitant to return it.

“Michael, what's wrong?”

Luke must've noticed my nervous behavior, I can't hide it anymore.

“Luke, I'm engaged with a princess from a neighboring kingdom. I'm sorry, I tried everything, but we can't be together.”

But Luke was persistent, “That's the reason why we're escaping! C’mon, Michael. We should go now!”

I managed to smile. The world where it's just the both of us, it's finally becoming reality. We could finally escape our fates.

Unfortunately, you cannot deny your fate.

My parents barged through the gate, now hanging on its hinges.

“Michael, what are you doing? Get away from that peasant!” My mother yanked and dragged me away from Luke.

“Stop! You're hurting him!”

My mother ignored him.

“Michael, let's go.”

But exposing our secret place was the final straw.

“No. I'm going to live with Luke and you two can't stop me!” I ran to Luke's side, his warmth strengthened me. My parents noticed it too.

“Too bad.”

Bang.

I felt a force on my shoulder, and found myself laying on the ground, feeling the warmth of Luke's blood on me. Only understanding when I saw the revolver in my father's hand.

“If we can't have our happy ending, don't even think about having yours too.” With that, my mother lit a match and threw it into the garden. The flames enveloping the delicate flowers as they all wilted ashen black.

I woke up again, renewed. I was in the mythical forest Luke told me so many years ago. The forest that granted wishes, and it granted mine, for 10 years. Nothing was real. The garden, the house, the flowers, all fake. But there's only one real thing in front of me. The figure was standing, but its red eyes lacked maliciousness, it was pleading.

Luke.

I picked up a small pink rose from the ground and handed it to the figure.

“For the one who saved me, through love and courage.”

It accepted the rose, and hugged me tightly, I returned the hug without hesitation.

“You’re free to go. I won't stop you.”

The figure nodded, and then it was gone. I looked up to the sky, seeing the Sun smile brightly. Knowing that I will see him once more when the time comes.

1999 words

Last edited by theawesomemarbler (Nov. 30, 2024 02:37:58)

silverlynx-

Critique!!

First of all, I loved this! It was super creepy and I loved the way you wrote it! It also flowed really nicely and the speech was really natural! (I apologise in advance if this is brutal hehe)

Some things to improve on would be to change the beginning because it’s just a video game right now and it can’t be that scary, or add in why the character is scared, because if my laptop went black then I wouldn’t be scared, I’d just punch my wall lol (god that sounded harsh… sry!!)
I also think that ‘didn’t bother to wake the window’s shutters’ sounds a bit… wrong?? Idk lol

I think that ‘waking’ the window’s shutters sounds a bit strange, and the way that you’ve transitioned it with a comma is a bit strange. Instead I think you could add in a ‘but’ because that just makes the transition smoother than with a comma.

Another thing would be ‘standing there in fresh clothes’ sounds a bit strange, because how can the character tell that the clothes are fresh? You could do something like ‘a woman standing in crisp clean clothes’ or something like that. (editing mode: ummmm crisp clean clothes also sounds… interesting lol)
‘She pronounced’ for the way the woman speaks I think you could change to ‘she repeated’ or something like that since ‘pronounced’ makes it sound as though it has a strange pronunciation?
I think that ‘she jolted back’ and ‘that peeled her apart’ are phrases that I’ve never really heard before, and I think you could just make them a bit stronger by saying ‘you stared back intently’ and ‘that stabbed daggers into your heart’ or something??

Anyways, those were all really small things and some you probably don’t even need to change lol

I hope this critique helps (which it probably won’t) and BYEEEE <3

Milkysplash

Bangsian Collaborative Story
Skylar's Part - 178 words

“What do you have there?” Erin asked Alison as Alison pushed open the door to her basement.

“IT’s a time machine,” Alison explained. “I was bored after watching Doctor Who one day, so I tried to make a TARDIS and now… well, I didn’t make a TARDIS but I did make a time machine. I think.”

“Wait… you haven’t tested it?” Erin raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. But then, she supposed it made sense. Alison always dragged Erib in when she wanted Erin to see a brand new thing that she’d invented.

“Of course not!” Alison exclaimed. “I thought we could go on an adventure… together!”

Erin sighed. Alison was far too optimistic, and she doubted it would work. Without waiting for Erin to agree, or object - or probably, even regardless of her objection, if Erin had objected - Alison was doing something with the computers.

“What are you doing?!” Erin exclaimed. “Are you even sure it’s safe?”

“Nope, but we’re gonna go on an adventure anyway.” Alison smiled. “Alright - jumping in three… two… one!”

The world went black.

Discuss Scratch