Thank Yous

CD:
You were such an incredible leader this session <3 You were really dedicated and kind and I am so honoured to have been able to spend my first session as a co-leader with you in Bi-Fi! You made Bi-Fi such a wonderful friendly place to be around with a really gripping storyline and loads of chaos and mangoes! I also loved the pfps you made hehe - they were INCREDIBLE <3 Thank you so much for helping me have such an amazing session and for helping bi-fi so much

Ever:
Everrrr! Thank you so much for being awesome this session! You did some amazing designing and you were really committed to bi-fi, really bring in the competitiveness (idk if i spelt that right lol) along with CD!! I absolutely loved being able to co-lead alongside you, especially as my first session as a co-leader! This has been one of the best session so far and I can’t imagine it without you <3

Rainy:
Even though I didn’t get to know you super well, you wrote LOADS of words lol

Hosties:
You were as amazing as always this session! I just wanna thank you for being so dedicated to swc it would be the same without u guys (it might not even work without u guys lol) <3

Polar Bears:
The dailies and weeklies this session were… *chef’s kiss* <3 especially the 4th weekly!! It must have taken u AGES to make that and it was so detailed and beautiful

All the leaders and co-leaders:
You created some fantastic cabins this session! I absolutely loved the themes (even our enemies fantasy, myth and poetry teehee)

@tgfanatic:
you won nanowrimo! congrats <3

River:
Why so many wars?? :sobbing: you made cabin wars extremely… different… interesting?? I’ve never had such a stressful day!! tysm!

Everyone else:
To all the campers and leaders that I chatted with in main cabin! SWC wouldn’t be the same without all of you (there wouldn’t be anyone i guess hehe) It was super fun to have so many lovely people to talk to!!

thank you notes <3

quick foreword/note: I absolutely suck at writing thank-you notes because I feel like it always sounds like I had to try really hard to think of what to write (and I did, not because I couldn't think of anything to thank people for, there was plenty of that, but because, like I said, I suck at writing thank-you notes) so I'm just gonna apologize beforehand if it does

“there’s snow falling over the city”

group thank-yous

The POLAR Bears-Alana, Amethyst, Soki, Rockie, Mouse, and Reese: Without the POLAR Bears, probably 90% of SWC wouldn't exist. It seems like such a huge job and you all do incredible at it <3
The hosts-Robin, Rockie, Luna, Alana, and Moss: Thanks for everything that you do to help keep SWC running <3
Paranormal campers: You all have been awesome <3 In all honesty, I was a bit more inactive this session than last, and I did really bad on actually doing dailies to get points, so I am sorry for that lol. We did great in Cabin Wars, though! Hopefully I'll see you all again next session!

“shadows of us are still dancing”

individual thank-yous

Mouse, Finley, and Kiara (so technically a group thank-you but whatever, it can go here): Thank you guys for making Paranormal incredible <3 Seriously, the storyline was awesome. I never could've followed through with that much planning and everything that probably went into designing it all. See you all next session!
Amethyst: I don't think we've interacted much but you seem like such a cool person. Also, thanks for the times when I had to get an extension

“oh, you think i'm gone cause i left, but I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze, my footsteps on the ground”

leaving campers

To anyone who had this session as their last SWC session: I haven't been in SWC for very long–this is only my second session. I don't know a lot of you very well, and most of you probably don't know me. Whoever you are–a (co)leader, a host, a camper, or maybe all of the above–we'll miss you but I'm glad you're doing what you think is best for yourself.

“in every room and every hall”

final thank-you

To everyone who does anything in SWC–the hosts, (co)leaders, campers, ect:
I think we can all agree that everyone deserves a thank-you. Whether I've interacted with you or not, :you: are part of what makes SWC, well, SWC! Without you–whoever you are that may be reading this–we'd be without an incredible person. SWC is so lucky to have you. See you next session <3

“through wading grass, the months will pass”

lyrics from ‘can’t catch me now' by olivia rodrigo, from tbosas movie end credits <3
(to be completely honest, i wasn't thinking about the actual lyrics or meaning of them for any sections other than the leaving swcers thank yous and the final lyric i included lol)

587 words <3

Opening Thoughts
Hey there Sage! You did a wonderful job on this, I absolutely loved reading it. It was so raw, and I think that no matter how it is placed in the writing comp, you should be utterly satisfied with it. You did a great job, and I’m very proud of you for being strong enough to put this out for critique. It’s a very vulnerable and sensitive topic, I’m sure, so I’m very grateful that you’ve allowed me to critique it!
I’ll start by giving specific feedback on certain parts, then my general feedback on the piece as a whole, and then my final thoughts!

I walk up to the casket. Tears fall down my face like miniature waterfalls.

I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but this is a very, uh, literarily appropriate beginning if that makes any semblance of sense- It sets the tone for the rest of the piece, which I think is great! One thing I would suggest would be to work out the simile in the second sentence. It’s a little clunky because what it implies is that each tear is a waterfall itself, which doesn’t quite make sense. Here’s what I would recommend, “Little droplets of water slide down my face, making my cloudy eyes rain with tears.”

I had hoped my suspicion was wrong.

I’m a bit confused as to what that’s alluding to. What were you suspecting? How does this tie into the rest of the piece?

I wish we could have written our story. I always promised him that I’d work on it. I’d come up with ideas, but I never did.

This makes me so sad </3 You do a really good job of portraying a regret that you have regarding your relationship. I think it would serve this section if it packed more of a punch with some stronger language and clarification. The last sentence I’ve quoted here is a bit strange since it seems like a bit of a paradox. Here’s what I would do: “I wish we could have written our story. I always promised you that I would work on it. I would come up with ideas, but I never put them on the page.”

Then I realized I was trapped in my head again.

I would put a paragraph break in before this sentence.

I remember every time I gave you a hug, you’d always tease me and say how it wasn’t tight enough.

This is just an idea that ties to my personal preference, so you don’t have to add it, especially if it feels disingenuous, but I think that adding some sort of gravity to a “last hug” or something to that effect would be an intriguing addition.

time.My heart

Add a space between the period and “my”.

“I love you more.” I say as I lay down the final flower, a red chrysanthemum.

This is a really sweet ending, but I’m a bit confused by it. I think that it would be a good idea to add some context for the reader. Is there a point where your grandpa insists that he loves you? Is it possible to make that clear that this last line is alluding to that? What about the flower? Unlike the other ones, you don’t explain the meaning of this. Even just a bit of context would be a good way to further enhance the gravity of what this flower means.

General Feedback
Overall, this is really great! I loved reading it, and I think that you portrayed your feelings quite nicely. If I were you, I would add more imagery, as well as stronger verbs and adjectives. Just don’t drown your piece in them aha- One other thing I would do would be to keep the pronouns consistent. Sometimes, it seems like you’re talking directly to him, and other times, it feels like you’re talking to the reader. I would pick one perspective and stick to it since it helps with consistency.

Final Thoughts
You did a great job!! I’m wishing you all the luck with the writing competition! <33

Hi everyone! Thank you for making this such an amazing session, and a memorable one at that! Without further ado, here are my thank you notes! (I may have waffled a bit - okay, a lot - to make this up to 1k words so I could hit my word goal, but hey, that’s just what happens with a) having sat my English GCSE and waffling my way through that and b) needing to hit my word goal.)

Firstly, I’d like to start with a few generalised thank you notes.

To the Hosts/Tyrants:
Thank you for your hard work in getting SWC ready! I cannot even begin to imagine the amount of work you have to do to get SWC running as smoothly as you do, but every session I’ve attended, which amounts to maybe seven or eight (to be honest I’ve lost count), you’ve always managed to get the daily changed on time, choose amazing leaders, and do so many other things.

To the SWC Leadership Team:
Hi guys! Thank you ALL and I mean ALL of you for making this such an amazing session for me. While you were probably not in the same cabin as me (and let’s be honest there’s a 1/12 chance you were) I appreciate your hard work and creativity in getting all your cabins ready. Without you, we wouldn’t have any competition, and often, leader antics lead to camper antics, which lead to an all around memorable session for all. Thank you.

To the Polar Bears:
Thank you for making this session’s activities really fun to do! While there were moments of forcing myself to do them, they were nonetheless interesting prompts that have helped me flesh out my usual rotating cast of characters; aka, the Sunshine Bay Gang. (Okay they’re not really a gang there’s like a twenty/thirty year age gap between some characters but ANYWAYS.) I especially loved the strike daily - that caused a ton of chaos that I will remember beyond this session. And anyways, going on strike is fun! Your weeklies were also really helpful in developing some of my skills as a writer and I did enjoy doing them.

To my fellow SWC Campers:
I’ve probably never even met half of you guys but, let’s admit it, we’re the underappreciated part of the SWC machine. To those I’ve interacted with for a comment or two this session, and to those I know well, and to those I’ve never even talked to at all - all of you, no matter how small your contributions to your cabins, have made this session an absolute blast. From our strike antics to yelling at each other to do our work and stop procrastinating, to our friendly cabin rivalries - I loved every second of the SWChaos we’ve caused.

To Em, Bookie, and Recca - Bangsian Leaders:
Thank you for being absolutely amazing leaders! Bangsian definitely could not have been as chaotic as it would have been without you three. You were amazing leaders and I loved all the friendly banter along the way. You definitely helped make this session special and I thank you for that.

To my dear fellow Bangsian Ghosts:
You guys. We did it. Thank you to all of you for making this session SUCH a fun one to be a part of. Even if we didn’t cause the most chaos inside the cabin, cabin wars and the strike days were so fun and so so so chaotic. I could not have made better memories without the whole group of you - see y’all next session!

And now, for a few personalised notes <3

To Oly (0lympiic) & Kit (KitVMH):
Hey guys! You two were two of the most amazing people I’ve met this session <3 I’ve loved meeting you over the course of this session and having fun with you guys, but out of the whole cabin, I think I’ve forged the deepest online-friendship bonds with you.

Kit, I loved talking to you and learning more about you on the third daily, I really loved getting to know you better! I know it was only one conversation, but as camp went on, I felt an unexplainable feeling of knowing you personally - to which, I’m not quite sure how that happened.

Oly, that discussion we had about worldbuilding was really interesting and I hope to continue discussing things like that with you in the future! I know it was only one conversation but during our other, shorter, talks throughout camp, I had this unexplainable feeling of knowing you personally - and I don't know how that happened.

To both of you, I wish you luck on your future writing journeys.

To Sage (babyoda1546):
Honestly, chaos is amazing and even though we’ve only met this session, I hope that we’ll be able to continue to be friends after this session. The camper strike was definitely one of the highlights of this session and I’m so glad I got to be involved in it with you - it also led me to officially unionising Bangsian… so :3

To Zoe (Zoe-the-bookworm):
Hi! I’ve only met you once but can I just say that bonding over Coldplay is an absolute yes? It was an absolute thrill to talk with you about music taste and I hope I can continue our discussions about music and being part of our school choirs in the future. I hope to see you around next session!

To Faith (ReadWriteSing):
Again, as with most people here, this was my first time meeting you - and though our interactions were short, they were chaotic, which is always a good sign, aha. I loved spending time casually roleplaying with you on SWC roleplay studio - it was really fun to do so! I hope we can continue this on into the future and I can’t wait to see you at another session!

To Sunny (ziqing11):
Hi! Honestly, coming back from the ice rink and seeing your message with a thank you note this morning has really made my day, as I’ve never been personally thanked by anyone before. I’ve seen you around on Scratch in the past in a few voice acting circles before but I don’t think we’ve ever had the time to properly meet and interact before this session, and I hope that in the future we can continue talking! <3

1,048 words

Thank-you-notes

Everyone: It’s so sad to see this session go, and honestly I’m just so grateful that we’re all here to witness the end of another amazing month together! The only reason why SWC is still running and is what it is is because of all you amazing people. No matter what role you play at camp, big or small, important or less important, just remember that you are what makes SWC so awesome. You bring light to every day you comment in the main cabin, and you’ve improved your own writing with every daily, weekly, cabin wars that you’ve been in! I hope that you’ve enjoyed this session as much as I do, it’s probably my favorite, even though I honestly change favorites every session, and you come back next time so I can see you again. If it was your first session, I hope you liked it here and you aren’t weirded out by how crazy we are, because I swear we’re sane! SWC is just such a loving community and me myself have made great strides in writing here, so again, thank you for everything you’ve done, and goodbye until we see each other again!

Bangsian Workers: When I started thinking about random and silly cabin ideas, my eyes landed on Bangsian, a cabin that had never been in SWC before. I had been debating over Bangsian Fields and a Thriller Pawnshop, and I’m so glad that I chose Bangsian, because if I was leading Thriller, it would’ve been an entirely different story. Thank you to all you campers who decided to venture into the unknown by choosing to be in Bangsian and get a job, because if I was you, honestly I’d be a bit scared. I’m someone who dislikes change, so leading a new cabin was a bit scary, but Recca and Bookie helped so much! Though I will have seperate thank yous for the both of you, I just want to tell you here that I’m so thankful for you accepting my co-leader offer, because without you Bangsian just wouldn’t have the same exciting touch that it does now. It’s been so silly and wonderful being in this wonderful cabin here, and I wouldn’t choose to lead any other cabin if I had the choice to continue leading this! I hope that you guys will come back next session and possibly join that cabin that I’m (co)leading in, if I do, because guys we dominated the leaderboard this session! Starting from 6th and ending at 1st (for now), we’ve been amazing at finishing cabin wars, and since I’m a competitive person myself, I think everyone here just has the same vibe, if you get me hehe! You will always be my favorite part of SWC, and this will be my favorite session for a very long time. I hope that we can all keep in touch and remember Bangsian Fields, even when we aren’t part of the same company together guys we have to unite next session and spam the main cabin with Bangsian Supremacy I just don’t want to let this session go, but thank you thank you thank you thank you you are amazing and loved by me and everyone else here!

Apocalyptic: Still can’t write your name right, unfortunately but aside from that this is such an amazing cabin! Luka, you are such a great leader hehe <3 though you are currently in second, there’s absolutely no chance that you guys will be us, right? I remember that everyone wanted to be here while I was haunting camper signups, and honestly, I can’t blame this! It looks awesome, and I hope that you earn enough money to escape your doomsday from you go-fund-me (if you’ve seen the description of our cabin, you’ll understand) thank you for just being so cool and kind of our competitor but not really cause we’re dominating >

Mystery: Third place siblings (for now) I see! You guys are so cool, and though we weren’t able to interact too much this session, and we kind of did betray you a few times in cabin wars, I think there was a friendly rivalry between us two! Your thumbnail art is amazing, and your (co)leaders are too! You are very lucky to have them, and I applaud how hard each of you have worked this session to be top 3 on the leaderboard! Next session though, maybe join my cabin? Hehe all of you are so cool you have to come work at CSLE! Thank you for being an awesome sibling that wasn’t evil <3

Fantasy: Honestly, when I think of you guys, I think of silly people though I wasn’t able to interact with all of you, the people I did were so funny and I enjoyed talking to you! From being surprised at how fast I did the weekly to just talking randomly in the main cabin, Fantasy, you are so wow! I love dragons, you guys have dragons, I love people, you guys have nice people! Thank you so much for making me smile through the session and reminding me that you can have friendly relationships with people outside your cabin XD I totally didn’t know that before!

Magic Realism: Wow. Just wow! Alana is so creative to have thought of a boba tavern, it’s so cute, and though I wouldn’t join just because I like more story heavy cabins (totally unlike Bangsian, I know) I would definitely recommend this cabin to anyone who’s just looking to have a fun time with boba buddies! (I will not mention how many times I really wanted to claim one of those cute little things) Thank you for being so crazily magical, and also two new cabins in one session? :eyes: twinning!

Sci-fi: Okay, why is every cabin so cool this session? Traveling through time to different cabins? Ugh I wish I could do that! Also your wcg names and themes are so ingenious! You guys are like that cool older sibling that everyone wants to be like <3 though I didn’t talk too much with anyone here (I probably did though, I have bad memory), thank you so much for being an integral part of SWC and not being in 1st >

Myth: Again with the amazing themes! Pepper has done an amazing first session leader job of making Myth seem so cool! Like guys you are so creative I can’t do anything like this T_T I hope you caught all your monsters and that you had an amazing session, because you all deserve it! Thank you for being myth because myth is just awesome and being part of such an amazing twist of the cabin, because usually it’s just some greek mythology hehe

Dystopian: Though I didn’t interact with you guys too much this session, I can tell that your divisions are very cool B) also the thumbnail! I hope that you guys enjoyed your time here because you’ve got awesome leaders, and because you guys also have great campers! Thank you for having so much fun battling it out with the divisions, and being a part of SWC!

Bi-fi: Another amazing cabin! Alright, a dreamscape? That’s just like I don’t have any more descriptive words because it’s just so cool! You guys have my favorite pfps, by far! CD is such a talented artist, and it definitely reflects on the pfps. You just have such a cool cabin that’s so much my vibe that honestly I’d choose it above any other one! Thank you so much for being a part of a natural wonder and being so friendly to us Bangsian ghosts!

Paranormal: Where’s the void? >:0 Anyways, jokes aside, our sworn enemies have been less ghostly than us CSLE workers have been, so I’ll call that a win if we’re competing on who is more supernatural, but in terms of storyline, you guys definitely have the cake! Traveling through different dimensions? Guys I’m sorry I’m too lazy to intricately plan out all of that your leaders are amazing, and go thank them for doing all of this for you, because not all the cabins would’ve! Thank you for being our enemies, as that was absolutely a delight this session, and thank you for not taking our 1st place standing!

Poetry: You literally emulate light academia how can a cabin be so aesthetically pleasing??? I’m terrible at this stuff, as you can tell from Bangsian’s cabin thumbnail, so I’m always in awe when people can pull this off! Knowing a few people from here, I’m so glad to say that you guys were so cool!!! The pfps??? GIVE ME ONE! Thank you for being such a pretty cabin, and for just being so cool B)

Steampunk: I feel like if I didn’t give you guys a great thank you note my friend will come after me because she’s been watching Arcane and since you guys are themed after it… anyways, so cool! Hostie and Reese and Snowy cabin? It can’t go wrong honestly! Though I am a bit glad that Recca joined our cabin, I can’t lie, I would’ve chosen this cabin over mine a few months ago XD Anyways, thank you for being our designated fan-fi cabin (even if there is no fan-fi this session) and for being an arcane cabin!

Hi-fi: Though TCTWNW is often forgotten, I will not forget you >:0 I’ve been noticing little check-ins here and there for the campers of Hi-fi, which is so cool and healthy for everyone, so I think you guys should all appreciate your (co)leaders because they’v eworked so hard for TCTWNW, which isn’t always the case! Thank you for being an absolutely amazing TCTWNW, and for being so healthy with your life (unlike me XD)

Hosts: Unfortunately I can’t separately write you guys a message as I still need time to do other stuff, but thank you so much! Though a few people have left the hosting team, I feel as if the new additions have made it feel as if nothing has changed at all! It’s been another amazing session, so thank you so much for working hard! Especially since a few of you are leaders and hosts which is like what along with being in school it’s hard I understand, so thank you so much for your hard work and dedication for something you don’t even have to do! Guys please don’t leave ilysm! /plat

Bookie: Hey Bookieee! Thank you so much for all of your ideas and hard work being part of the CSLE team! As I said before, I’d hate to let you leave after this without talking to you consistently, so remember, I will be camping out on your profile > I knew after looking at your app that you’d be such an amazing co, and I’m glad that I chose you! Thank you for the dedicatio, the pfps, the silliness that you’ve thronw along, and the way you added your own personal spirit to Bangsian, it wouldn’t be the same with you! We were able to get so much done, 13 pages like what I’ve never had that many pages before on a forum for a cabin so wow we were so productive!

Recca: Ok I still don’t understand how you accepted my offer? Going on a little rant, I’ve been refused many times as I’m not one of the most popular leaders out there :’) so when Luna offered to you I was like folks lets wrap it up here, but I kept waiting and somehow you said yes? Either way, I’m so glad you completed our team of 3! Your silliness kept Bookie and I going, and your reminders for us to finish stuff were so helpful! We had so much synergy as a team, and I feel like we were able to get so much done which is one of the main reasons I think Bangsian is in 1st right now. Spirit is a lot, and I felt like you and Bookie brought so much to the cabin! Thank you for being my co-leader and keeping the workers less depressed!

Serrie: You’ve always been so silly in this cabin along with Sandy, you guys are honestly the skibidi wrizzler duo and I can’t lie, I love it! Thank you for your participation in figuring out who the ghosts are, and I’ve just loved the enthusiasm honestly XD really needed you here as a breath of fresh air! Please come back next session

Sandy: Sandyyy your :wolf: and skibid wrizzlers with Serrie were so silly to see! Thank you for being such a great writer and playing an integral part in our cabin here! It’s been an absolute blast, and first cabin reunited since Fairytales? Honestly almost forgot about that, but it feels weird, huh? My first session more than 2 years ago was with you, and my my how the tables have turned > anyways wow thank you for this session and that session because without you and the merchant’s caravan, I might not be here! I really like playing it neutral, so being evil or good was not a very good choice in my book, so yep neutral all the way! Hope to see you agaain next session!

Oly: Hey Oly! It’s been amazing knwonig you since July, and I’m glad that you chose to be in our cabin because wow it was fun with you! Thank you for always being there to critique my writing and just supporting me! I hope that we can talk more as I was a bit busy this session, so hoping to see you again <3

Skylar: Thank you so much for writing so much and being so active! It’s hard to find campers like you, so it was amazing seeing how motivated you were, and it felt good as a leader, as it meant that whatever spells I was casting on the campers were working! Thank you for just being an amazing worker, and I’ll see you very soon again, so excited for that!

Amethyst: Thank you for being such an amazing person! Being part of the Polar Bears and working so hard on the last weekly, I really appreciate it! Also your helpful comments about how its actually worth 4k points and not 2.5k XD I hope we can talk more as you just seem amazing, so see you next time!


Chuey: Hey Chuey! Thank you for helping me throughout the session when I have random questions to ask you, and thank you for being such a great friend sometimes! Unfortunately, we weren’t able to talk too much this session, but that was me because I was a bit busy, but honestly just thank you for still being here throughout the session! Please come back because I’ll be sad if you don’t

Mouse: Mousey! It’s been awesome being mortal enemies with Paramold, and I was always happy to talk to you during the session, so I hope we do that more! You’re such a great person and I hate that I’m just so busy I don’t have time to interact with as many people as I wish I could! Thank you for all the times you’ve talked to me and made me laugh! I’m sure I’ll see you next session, right?

Rush: Omori?

2561 words

deep down below where the pale things bite || 1300 words, fanfiction of the Wingfeather Saga

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful isle called Anneria, ruled by a loving king and guarded by his faithful protector. The sun shone warmly on fields and woods and winding paths, and bards sang tales of the island’s famous loveliness. Anneria, it was said, was the place where nothing could ever go wrong.

the bird man had been crawling for days or hours or maybe minutes and he did not know where he was going.
he knew he was running.
he knew he was a coward.
he knew he was leaving the man he loved most behind.
I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t strong enough.
the bird man curled into a ball and rocked back and forth, taloned hands click click clicking he hated the talons he had been so weak it was his fault were they coming after him did they hear him smell him were the things with eyes going to bite him-
he screamed alone in the dark in the pain in the slime there is no forgiveness there is only guilt.
he wept himself to sleep and dreamed of feathers and fur and beasts in cages and the stone and woke and crawled again.
he had to get away out of the depths away from the horrors away from his responsibilities HE HAD FAILED.
there was no way to heal what he had done but he had to try or he would go mad or maybe he was already mad there were voices in his head and they were laughing, laughing, laughing at him and his failure.
the bird man shivered and ran, hideous talon-hands clasped to his ears as though that would stifle the shrieks of laughter in his head.
it didn’t.

When they heard that war was stirring, they laughed. Who would dare defile the Shining Isle? The monsters were far away, across the sea. They were safe from the horrors. No swords were sharpened. No bows were strung. Whatever the nameless evil was doing, it had nothing to do with them, they thought.

hungry things rustled and stirred as he passed but the bird man paid them no heed except to wave them away when they got too close. he was going up and out, out of the darkness, back to the light. back to where, maybe, he would forget all that he had done, that he was a coward. that he had left him behind. that he had left his brother to rot in the dungeon where nightmares were afraid and terrors did not go and the stonekeeper’s smile was a monster all by itself HE HAD LEFT HIM THERE ALONE.
the bird man cringed but it was not enough to make him turn back. he could not go back he could not die again he could not leave his soul to be ravaged by the things that skulked in the shadows and peered out with great pale eyes oh, but he could leave his brother there, he could leave him behind. the bird man had no strength left to cry out but the feathered thing in his spirit spread its wings in triumph and screeched.
he dragged himself forward because he had to or the voices would catch him by the heels and drag him down and he would have no breath left to scream with as they cackled.
he hated himself but he could not go back or he would die.

When the ships came, full of monsters, they were not prepared. When the torches came, trailing smoke and fire, they had no defense but to run. When the teeth came, snapping and dripping, they could do nothing but stare their doom in the face and then close their eyes.
Then the scaly creatures turned their focus towards the Shining Isle’s castle, and smiled.
They would not stop until they had ravaged every piece of Anneria and left it to burn.

there was light and moss and trees and the bird man stumbled forward, deaf and blind to everything but his purpose. he must find a way to make things better. he must find a way to undo the wrong he had done, to heal what had been twisted.
a ray of sunlight fell across his path like a blessing and glittered on water, and he stopped.
the pool was clear and cool, rippling softly, and his gasping thirst led him to the brink as he dipped his head and cupped his hands. there was something different about this water, something that could fix what he had broken, something that could silence the voices in his head.
he stopped, and let the water flow back through his talon-hands. he did not deserve this water, but he knew someone who did.
carefully, painfully, he scraped a bowl out of an chunk of wood with his talons and filled it to the brim and clutched it to his chest. he would take it to his brother and make him drink, he would undo the cursed transformation and make everything right again. he saw again in his mind the bear chained to the cage, head lolling, he saw his brother’s helpless dead eyes as his lips moved to sing the song. sing the song of the ancient stones AND THE BLOOD OF THE BEAST IMBUES YOUR BONES fur sprouting bones twisting IT WAS HIS FAULT all his fault forever.
the bird man turned and looked for the path back but he could not find it.

The Throne Warden stood next to his younger brother and drew his sword. In Anneria, the second born was heir, and the first born their sworn protector. From the cradle, the Warden had been brought up to defend his brother’s life. It was often hard, and sometimes he wished he did not have this role, but underneath his heart beat to a steady mantra: protect, protect, protect.
He would protect the king as long as there was breath in his body, and beyond. He would never, ever abandon him, the Warden swore.
He raised his sword, ready to fight.

the bird man wandered for an eternity, looking for the way back, but although he scrambled under rotting things and climbed over mountains and stumbled through forests he could not find the path, and bleak despair settled on him like snow.
if only he had not run, if only he had stayed and shouted defiance instead of running LIKE THE COWARD HE WAS. if he had not sung the song with the raptor in the cage if he had not given in if he had been strong and not weak.
things wept and moaned for the precious water he cradled in his hands but he held it aloft, refusing to spill a drop, refusing to give it to anyone but his brother, the king, shing pingy wingy HE HAD SUNG THE SONG WHAT DID THAT MAKE HIM? the stone had shed its cruel glow on him he could never make it right. he bit and tore at the talons on his hands but he only succeeded in making his blood flow in a crimson stream. he held the bowl out of the way so his tainted blood didn’t stain the priceless liquid.
he would never stop walking until he found his brother.
he would never stop looking for chances to make it right.
and the voices in his head would never stop laughing until he found forgiveness.
his only job had been to protect, and he had run away.
the bird man clutched the bowl to himself until it dug into his skin. it had to fix things. it must. all he had to do was find the way back into the depths, back into the nightmare.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
I FAILED.

Thank You Notes

To the Hosts, past and present:
Thank you for doing all your host-y things and for taking time out of your lives to do SWC. We couldn’t do this without you guys! Thank you for everything <3

To Mystery:
Thank you for being such a fun cabin! This is the first session I’ve ever been in where I made it all the way through to the end! I met several cool people both in and out of my cabin this session, and I’m very glad I did. Good job on getting third place (for now)!

To Luna / @/–Artsy_Girl–:
Thank you for being such a cool cabinmate! Your high wordcount (goal) was definitely inspiring to me. Your profile says that you’re going inactive, so I wish you luck on your journey! <3

To Sage / @/babyoda1546
Thank you for being such a fun and cool person! You seem really kind and nice, and I’d love to continue talking to you even after this session is over. <3

To Everyone, from every cabin:
Thank you for joining SWC! Even if we never talked or interacted, I hope you have fun, both on and off your writing journeys. I apologize for being bad at writing letters and notes, but thank you, everybody.

Writing Comp entry:
“Hello and Welcome to the fourth episode of the Princess Cooking Show!” Cinderella said “We’re your hosts, I’m Cinderella”
“And i’m Belle.”
“In case you didn’t know, today is the first ever guest episode!”
“And what is a guest episode, you might ask?” Belle said “A guest episode is where we have another fellow princess come on the show and cook with us!”
“Today, for our first ever guest, we have Princess Nautilus!” Cinderella shouted. Nautilus walked in, the crowd cheering as she did. “Hello and welcome to the Princess Cooking Show, Nautilus! How are you feeling today?” Belle asked “Well, I’m rather excited! I’ve never been on TV before! Well i was in the play the one time, but i don’t know if that counts” Nautilus said “Today, we will be making Super Strawberry Cake! Grab an apron and let’s go!” Cinderella said “To start, make red velvet cake batter, dyed pink, and fold some chopped strawberries into it, then pour into two cake pans, and bake.” Belle said, putting two cake pans of pink velvet cake with chopped strawberries in it into the oven. “The next step is to make your strawberry simple syrup.” Cinderella said “Oh! What does simple syrup do?” Nautilus asked “It keeps your cake from drying out while you decorate it!” Belle said. “First, take some strawberries and chop them up” Cinderella said, getting out some strawberries and cutting board and knife. “Make sure to cut off the stems!” Nautilus said. “They do not taste good.”
“Once you’ve chopped up your strawberries and de-stemmed your strawberries, you should put them in tupperware container and sprinkle them with sugar, so their juices come out.” Cinderella said, doing so. “And wait a bit.”
“Once your done waiting, take out the container, and take out another container, and a strainer” Belle said, getting out a two tupperware containers, one with the strawberries, and a strainer. “Then put your strainer over the empty container, and pour your strawberries into the stainer.” Belle said, pouring the strawberries and juice into the stainer, the juice coming out into the empty container. “Then make your simple syrup, but put the strawberry juice in it too.” Belle made the simple syrup.
“By now, your cakes should be done, take them out of the oven, and stick a fork in them. If it comes out clean, it’s done.” Cinderella said, taking the cakes out of the oven and testing them with a fork “Cut off the caramelization, cut them in half, and let the cakes cool.”
“While you wait, get yourself something to snack on, like some sprinkles and frosting tubes, then make the icing.” Belle said, getting some sprinkles and frosting tubes out of the cabinet. “Do you want some?” Belle asked Nautilus “Oh, um, no thank you!” Nautilus said “More for me.” Said Cinderella. Belle rolled her eyes “Take your cut up strawberries, cut them up smaller pieces if you can, and fold them into your buttercream. Nautilus, would you like to do this part?”
“Oh, okay, yes!” Nautilus said, folding in the strawberries while Belle talked “Take some more strawberries, cut off the stems, and put them in a food processor or blender, and blend them till their fairly smooth. Then fold it into your buttercream.” She said, doing so.
“Once your cakes are cooled and your buttercream is ready, take one layer of cake, and spread the strawberry buttercream on that layer. Then pipe a fence on your layer.” Belle said, doing so. “Cut up some more strawberries, and put those on the inside up your cake” She said, Nautilus placing the strawberries on the inside. “Spread a thin layer of buttercream on top of the strawberries, then repeat till your done. Then crumb coat and chill your cake.” Cinderella said.
“Once your cake is done chilling, ice with your cake with strawberry buttercream, and chill again” Cinderella said, putting the cake back into the fridge. “Once your cake is chilled, it’s time to decorate!” Belle said “Ooh!” Nautilus said “Chop up some strawberries, and decorate your cake. You can also decorate with shortbread cookies, buttercream, cream, and even ice cream.” Cinderella said. Nautilus began decorating the cake with buttercream and strawberries, and shortbread cookies. “Once your happy with your cake, it’s time for the best part!” Belle said “Eating it!” Cinderella took out a knife and cut the cake “Ooooh!” Nautilus took the slice of cake, and they all began eating. “See you next time on…”

“The princess cooking show!”

752 words

Writing Comp entry wooo
this was originally a daily, that i made some edits to :D


Sun.

Wind.

Clouds.

Val shivered.

None of these seemed to exist in this forest.

The air was still.

Completely and utterly still.

The trees that had previously been swaying gently in the wind had stopped. Val had looked up.

The trees were tall, too tall, to be young.

They were dark, with too many branches, the kind that blot out the sky entirely.

Thick, seemingly black leaves stopped any sunlight from shining onto the forest floor.

This was an old and strange forest; Val could tell that simply by how the trees grew.

Many were twisted in abnormal ways, curling into themselves before shooting up; spiraling up towards the blotted-out sky.

It was silent.

Completely and utterly silent.

Not a birdsong filled the air.

Nor the soft, cautious sounds of curious animals watching her.

Not even the wind, blowing against the leaves of the trees.

She couldn’t even hear her footsteps; the pine needles covering the forest floor muting the sound. She kept sinking a little, pine needles giving when she put her weight on them. She turned her back and could see her footprints.

She puffed a soft sigh of relief and blinked when she could see her breath.

She shivered.

That was another problem when you couldn’t see or feel the sun.

Cold.

She shivered again, becoming more and more aware of the cold that was in the air.

At least she was moving.

She didn’t have a jacket or anything of the sort. Which was slowly becoming problematic. She was freezing, the cold biting at her skin and face. It was the kind of cold when you were in the shade on an already cool winter’s day.

She shook her head, as if trying to physically clear it, before continuing her slow journey ahead. She started to sing a song, formerly a poem she had found in her mother’s journal. It wasn’t upbeat, nor was it sad. The poem had been neither. It was a simple thing, a song about wildflowers.

The song echoed back after a moment.

She really was alone, wasn’t she?

Weekly #4
11/29-12/1/2024
3844 words



Intro:
117 words

Natasha yanks the door open, grumbling as she rushes in from the cold. When heavier footsteps don't follow her in, she turns around and glares at the blond standing outside the door. He stares back.
“Barton, what are you doing?” she hisses between her teeth, her jaw clenched and eyes sharp, even as she gives him a plastered smile.
He, the idiot, has the audacity to smile right back. “Enjoying the snow, Tash. It's snowing,” he opens his arms out and tries to catch a snowflake with his tongue, tumbling backwards. “Come on, Tasha, come out here with me; you should be used to the snow!” Clint laughs, spinning slowly, his faced tilted up to the sky.

Inuit:
394 words

She rolls her eyes at his childish action. “Just because I'm Russian doesn't mean that I love the snow. Get your butt in here Clint or I'm locking you out.”
Clint shrugs, still staring up at the sky. “I can get back in anyways, your threats are nothing to me.”
“Ugh,” she mutters and Natasha wraps her coat around her tighter before she stalks back out into the cold, shutting the door behind her. “I want to be back inside in ten minutes.”
“Yes ma'am,” he obliges, tugging her further away from the house.
She rolls her eyes with a smile, as he takes her hands into his and leans back. Natasha shakes her head, but copies his actions.
“Okay, now we're going to spin. Slowly,” he says softly. “Ready?”
Natasha looks at him for a moment before nodding. He grins and starts to spin them around. Slowly. Way too slowly. She goes along with it, expecting him to pick up the pace, but he continues at the agonizingly slow pace and snow was getting caught in her eyelashes and-
Clint chuckles as she gasps when he starts moving quicker, her body jerking from the unexpected movement. She shuffles on her feet to catch up, not wanting to be dragged around in the snow. And all too suddenly, he halts, eyes wide. She freezes, staring at him. Did she do something wrong, what was it?
He drops her hand and crouches to the ground as she watches in confusion. What is wrong with him?
Before she could ask, he raises a palm towards her. “Tasha, stay still.”
“Clint, why do I-”
“Stay still,” he repeats, moving slowly towards her.
She furrows her eyebrows, but he isn't looking at her. He's looking past her. She turns slowly and sees a lump of black in the snow. It's a cat.
Clint moves closer to the cat, voice soft. “Here kitty kitty.”
The black cat pads softly on the snow, leaving a small trail of tracks behind her. She walks up to Clint, but stops before his hands, letting out a soft mrow. Clint waits, opening his arms for the cat to willingly come. When she does finally walk into his open hands, he scoops the cat up and tugs on the coat sleeve of a startled Natasha. “Come on, I have to get you inside now.”

Egypt:
243 words

She trudges inside behind Clint and sheds her coat, rubbing her hands together as her body starts warming up. A nudge on her shoulder makes her turn around and Clint unceremoniously hands her the cat.
“Uh, I’m going to go wash up real quick,” he says, his body angled towards the hallway already. “Just watch her for a few minutes?”
Natasha gapes at him while she tries to manage the squirming car in her hand. “Barton- I- Ugh.”
She doesn’t know how to take care of a cat. Such a weak helpless thing. She barely takes care of herself and that’s only because she knows she can deal with all the struggles. How does Clint expect her to take care of a little animal? Natasha walks over to the couch and sits down, not trusting herself to stay standing with the cat in her arms. She tries to remove the cat from her arms and onto the ground, but is met by struggles and a small furious meow.
“You’ve got some fight in you, at least,” Natasha comments, watching at the cat as she squirms. She stays still, just watching the black cat move on her lap as she waits for Clint. She’s still not going to take care of this thing, but she can handle it for a little bit longer. She’s the Black Widow for crying out loud! Taking care of a small cat is not going to be her downfall.

Rome:
298 words

The cat was feisty, prowling around on Natasha's lap and hissing. Natasha hissed right back. The cat didn't seem to know how to react to her response and she smirked. It did feel kind of weird referring to the cat as, well ‘the cat’. It had to have a name or something. If it even had an owner.
Curious, Natasha lifts the cat up as it struggles against her, searching for a collar or some sort of identification. She found nothing visible, but she gasps. There was a cut on the cat's leg. She freezes. How was she supposed to take care of the cat, when it had an injury? She lifts a hand and runs it through her red hair, still damp from the melted snow.
The cat has no identification, they'll have to check for a microchip later, no collar, and a broken leg. Great.
Liho.
Natasha mentally shakes the name out of her head. Giving this thing a name is a form of attachment, she's not going to get attached to this stray. No.
Stuck in her head, Natasha failed to properly take into account her surroundings and what the cat in her lap was trying to do. She snapped back into focus when a cry from the cat and the paws clawing at her pants tugged the fabric around. It had moved around and it's almost off of her lap. Natasha lurches forward, cupping the cat in her hands and gently removing the claws from her pants, bringing it back up onto her lap.
“I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, aren't I?” Natasha sighs, petting the cat lightly. “That was close. I wouldn't want Clint coming out to find a cat with an injured leg falling out of my lap.”

Mesopotamia:
208 words

The Russian assassin learned something new that day
Her heart melted in a strange way
As her fingers caught in black fur
Something in her stirred
Perhaps it was the respite from the icy cold
Or the black cat in her hold
Of the many things Natasha knew
Having a pet, she had no clue
Maybe this attachment brought out
The smile behind her pouts
As she waited for her blond partner
She sat humming by the fire
She enjoyed the warm more than the old
After she had to suffer through it for long, the pain got old
Natasha would deny if you asked
But she didn't really mind what she had gotten tasked
There are many things that she could do
Other than sitting and just waiting for Clint's chaos to ensue
Yet, still she sat, finding solace in the quiet she had been accustomed to
Before they had to report in about their missions in Peru
The black cat had calmed, dubbed Liho in her head
Liho still lightly treaded, but acted on no dread
They waited together, assassin and cat
For the one who brought them together to come back
And out of the shower, he came
With a white towel in his mane

Aztec:
439 words

Natasha heard the soft padding of his socks on the wood before she saw him. He knew that he couldn't sneak up on her. Liho was curled up, purring softly in her lap.
“Hey,” Clint greets, sliding onto the couch next to her. “Is it my shift to watch the cat now?”
Natasha nods, petting the cat. “She has a cut on her leg. It's going to have to be patched up. I don't see any identification, but she may have a microchip or something.”
Clint hums. “Okay. I'll see what we have, but we may have to go see a vet or something if we want to get this cat back to her owner.”
“What if she doesn't have one?” Natasha allows herself to ask, voice growing soft. “What do we do then?”
“We'll figure something out. Now, give me the cat, Nat. Your turn to wash up,” Clint removes Liho from her lap and she brushes off the cat hair from her pants before she gets up to walk to the bedroom.
She grabs a t-shirt, a cardigan, a pair of sweatpants, and a towel from her suitcase, before heading into the shower. Natasha doesn't take long, just rinses and washes her hair of the sweat and grime. Once she gets out, she pats herself down dry and slips on her clothes, checking her phone before she walked out.
The familiar SHIELD symbol greeted her. Coulson had messaged her. Probably about the mission- oh shoot. The mission.
She walks back out to the living room, where Clint was resting with the black cat on his lap. His eyes fly open. “Tasha, what's wrong?'”
“Wrong? Nothing's wrong,” she grimaces internally. Was it really that obvious?
He gives her an uneasy look. “You don't look alright, what's wrong?”
“Is your back okay? From earlier?” Natasha asks, recalling what he had to do during their mission.
They'd been cornered and he'd fought off the band of goons by himself as a distraction while she ran back to nab a handful of files and get some intel out of their target. He'd survived, but let's just say that she didn't find him in great condition.
“Tasha, that's what you're worried about?” he chuckles, reaching out to tug her arm.
She rolls her eyes. He was making her soft. “Is your back good enough to spar with me right now?”
“Agent Romanoff, you wouldn't do that to me, would you?” he gasps dramatically. His expression softens and he locks eyes with her. “My back's okay. I'll probably need to take it easy for a week, but I've had worse. You know that.”

Minoan:
255 words

Natasha nods. She does know that. Her eyes flicker to his bandages anyways and she sighs. Her phone buzzes in her pocket again and she pulls it out. “Coulson wants us to look through the files before we go back. Says that it might be helpful to read before we get back to headquarters.” She looks up at Clint and they share matching confused looks. Clint shrugs.
She grabs her backpack and pulls out the files onto the table in front of the couch. Clint leans over, carefully moving the cat forward on his lap so as to not squish her.
Natasha thumbs through the papers, mumbling under her breath.
“Nat?” Clint points to a paper covered in cyphers. “Is that what Coulson was referring to?”
Natasha tilts her head back and groans. Of course, he sticks them with the translations. Between the two of them, they knew twenty some languages; she doesn't really blame him for it. Even if it's a pain. She rummages around in her bag for a bit and pulls out two pens. “Better get to work then.”
They spend the next two hours, curled up on the couch covered in papers.
“It looks vaguely Cyrillic, but it's not Russian, not similar enough to be Ukrainian…”
“Okay, that sentence structure makes no sense at all!”
“Easier than Latin?”
“Easier than Latin.”
“That's operations, right?”
“Looks like it to me.”
They shift out of their translations and deciphering when the cat meows and wiggles out from Clint and towards Natasha, slightly limping.

Ancient China:
270 words

Natasha mentally slaps herself. “Liho. Her leg.”
Clint looks up from his papers, grimacing. “Yeah, we should do something about that. Wait- Liho?”
“The cat,” Natasha mumbles, looking at the papers, going over the rough translations so far without meeting his eyes.
He picks up the cat-Liho, Natasha had called her-and chucked. “You don't even know if this cat has an owner yet and you named her?”
Natasha rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Shut up, Barton! Stop laughing!” She slaps his arm and that gets him to shut up.
He smirks. He seriously smirks at her and leans in closer with Liho in his arms. “Does the icy cold Black Widow want a cat? That she doesn't even know if it has an owner or not? I'm sure it could be arranged.”
“Barton, knock it off!” She pushes him backwards and brings her knees up. “I'm not the Widow right now. You taught me that. I just-” she presses her face against her knees and mumbles something against them.
Clint bumps his shoulder with hers. “I didn't hear what you said, Tasha.”
She turns away from him, still not letting herself indulge in something so simple as the comfort of an animal. The entire idea of it was absurd. Comfort? From an animal? She'd be a laughing stock! Pets are nothing but a waste of money and energy and-
They were both looking at her with those eyes. The cat too. Natasha lives a miserable existence.
She sighs. “Maybe I want to have a cat. Clint- no. That does not mean that we're going to get more animals. Clint!”

Navajo:
373 words

Clint is looking at her with that mischievous glint in his eyes. She hates that glint. His childish antics drive her mad and it’s never ended well for her. (She couldn’t live without it.)
“Natasha,” he says lowly, meeting her eyes, “do you want to keep Liho if she doesn’t have an owner?”
“Are you going to use this as leverage to get a dog that you’ve been begging me for?” Natasha deflects, crossing her arms.
He shrugs, the side of his mouth quirking up. “Maybe.”
“Then no,” she states firmly, her curt tone saying Barton, don’t push me. “Pets are a waste of time, energy, and money. All of which we don't have a lot of. I don’t want a pet.” She grits her teeth, hoping Clint won’t choose to be an idiot for once.
He scooches closer, and places Liho on her lap. The new moving weight on Natasha urges her to look down and she obliges with a sigh.
“Let’s peach up her leg, okay?” Clint slides his hand into hers and tugs gently.
She nods silently, picking up Liho in her right arm and follows Clint into the bedroom. Natasha trails behind him as he grabs the first aid kit and sets it down on the bed.
He unzips the kit and starts rummaging through it. “I can use this to sterilize the cut, right?” Clint holds up some hydrogen peroxide and scratches his head. “I really didn’t think this through. I’ve never had to deal with cat wounds.” He pauses and amends his words. “A cat with wounds, not wounds from a cat.”
Natasha snorts. “And you think I do?”
They end up googling pet care sites and between the two of them, they manage to patch up Liho’s leg for the time being. Clint and Natasha are both cross legged on the bed across from each other, watching as Liho lies between the two of them.
“So…” Clint starts, breaking the settled silence. “You don’t want a pet.”
Natasha nods, eyes not leaving Liho.
That makes her eyes dart up. Her eyes are calculating, still. An emotion flashes across her face briefly and Clint worries that he pushed her too far.
She takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Swahili:
202 words

Clint leans over, giving Natasha a hug. She tenses, but relaxes.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀You know you’re allowed to want things and have them, right? Attachment isn’t bad.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(frustrated) I know! You taught me that, I thought I knew that. It’s just- Ugh. It’s hard. I’m still learning. I know it, but-


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I know. You still have old habits and instincts that come first. That doesn’t mean you have to not allow yourself to indulge in it, when I’m here. That’s why I’m here. To help you.

Liho meows loudly beneath them and they part, laughing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I think this little one is demanding our attention.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ah well, at least she’s less demanding than you.

Natasha hits him, gasping in mock horror.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Me? What about you? Between the two of us, you’re the drama queen.

Clint waves his hand at her, glancing away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Darling, I’m not the drama queen. I’m just me. *pause* The drama king.

Natasha snorts and picks Liho up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He’s really the drama king, isn’t he.

Liho meows in response.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Thank you, thank you.

Natasha meets Clint’s eyes.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(softly) Thank you. Really. You’re so patient with me.


⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Of course. Always.

Mayans:
207 words

Before Clint, Natasha had lived a very different life. She supposes that’s what happens when you’re treated as a weapon and not a human being for most of your life. Life got harder after she met Clint. Being told many things in your life is a lie isn’t something one takes easily. Especially since Natasha already trusted so little. She wasn’t even sure if she had made the right choice by defecting from the Red Room to follow the bold archer who was sent to kill her. Really, you’d think she’d know better.
But there was a roughness to Clint that Natasha recognized. A childhood innocence scrubbed away by years of hardships and more hurt than a child should face. She was like that too. She’d been shoved into the world, a child masquerading as an adult, until she was no longer a child. And yet, he wasn’t all sharp edges. Unlike her, Clint had started healing and was able to preserve some of that childlike playfulness. She wasn’t soft. She was tall jagged walls, built up over years of neglect, and somehow he managed to climb over them and work with her to bring them down. All because that stupid blond archer gave her a choice.

Aksun:
236 words

They sit there on the bed, falling into a comfortable silence. Natasha pets Liho absentmindedly, her mind straying into memories. Clint hums, tapping in rhythm until she comes back to him.
“Hm?” Natasha prods, when his taps on her knees become more incessant.
“So, you want Liho. We have to get her checked out and make sure you can actually keep her. And then, how are you doing to take care of her? Keep her at your apartment? You know, pets cost a lot of time, energy, and money,” he says with a cheeky grin.
Natasha rolls her eyes. Of course he would be throwing her words back at him. “Well, I think that someone told me that he is here to help me, didn’t you, Clint?” Her words turn icy and Clint raiseshis hands up in surrender.
“All right, I know I’m bound to be the servant of the Russian assassin!” He lifts Liho off of her lap. “You know,” he says to the black cat, ignoring Natasha’s visual and verbal protests, “I don’t think you want her as your owner. She’ll love you for a little bit, but then she’s going to be making you pay rent and fees.”
“Maybe I should make you pay rent for how much you sleep over,” Natasha deadpans. “Give the cat back.”
Clint sighs and hands Liho back over. “See it’s starting already! She’s claimed possession of you.”

Ancient Greece:
230 words

Natasha huffs, ready to strike back with a response, when a glowing circle appears in front of them. She groans, pulling Liho closer to her embrace, as she awaits the sorcerer.
And sure enough, Steven Strange walks through the portal, magic red cape and all. Clint glares at him and Dr. Strange halts.
“There’s kind of an emergency that requires your assistance.”
Now it’s Natasha’s turn to glare at him and Strange stands tall under the figurative daggers pointed his way. Not to say that the real daggers won’t come out soon…
“Steven, we’re on official leave since we just completed our last mission and Hill said that we could get some time off. What is it now?” she says coldly, hating the breeze that was hitting her from the open portal. Fury had finally let them get rest and Hill promised not to bother them and oh great look. They’re needed. Yay.
“Captain America asked for you two specifically. Not sure how much you’ve been catching up with the news, but there’s an alien invasion or something. We think it’s alien at least; it’s really not that clear,” Dr. Strange informs them, stepping back into the portal. “I’ll give you guys time to change.”
They both look down at their outfits, Natasha in her cardigan and sweats, and Clint in his purple t-shirt and sweats. Not exactly mission material.

Australia:
248 words

Clint sighs and slides off the bed. “Well, I guess we better get to work!” He digs around in one of their duffel bags and pulls out their suits, tossing one next to her on the bed as he walks out to the bathroom.
She quickly slides out of her clothes—not that she had much of a choice anyways—and slips her catsuit on. Liho meows from her spot in the bed and Natasha has a faint smile on her face as she straps on her Widow bites.
They were ready when Dr. Strange came back. “Oh good, I wasn’t sure what I would do if you guys weren’t ready.”
They followed him through the portal and into the middle of a battle field, where Steve, Tony, and Thor already were. A giant snake, covered in an assortment of colored scales, hissed at them. This is not was Natasha was hoping for on vacation.
She glances over at Clint and he nods. They both run towards the fight, Natasha turning towards Steve.
“Nice to see you could join us, Romanoff,” Steve greets, grunting as his shield is pressed on by a part of the snake’s body.
Natasha smirks. “Likewise, Rogers. What’s the intel on this enemy?”
“Kinda confusing.” Steve steps backwards, allowing Thor to swoop in with Stormbringer. “Tony’s got word of some Australians saying this is one of their ancient gods or something.”
“Another god?” Natasha asks. “Oh whatever, that’s not excuse to interrupt my vacation.”

Conclusion:
124 words

They end up having Thor call on Heimdeil and letting the Asgardians handle the Rainbow Serpent. Widow Bites worked interestingly on the Rainbow Serpent. Natasha mentally noted to test just how many creatures it could affect. Clint lost some arrows, but nothing he couldn’t remake. They walked back through the portal with a parting wave and a few scratches.
“This day has been a mess,” Natasha grumbles, leaning back against the headboard with Liho crawling onto her lap. She’d stayed out in the snow, deciphered parts of whatever that paper was, adopted a cat—kind of—, and fought a snake god or something.
“Well,” Clint says playfully, wiggling his eyebrows, “we do happen to be in vacation with avery cute cat in your lap.”

Thank you notes:

Everyone:
Ahhhh this session was so much fun! Thank you everyone, can’t wait to see y’all next session

Steampunk:
Steampunk! This cabin was great, and got a lot done this session. I couldn’t have done without all of you, thank you all so so much <33

Reese:
REESE! You were an amazing co-leader this session, this session wouldn’t be the same without you. Kaboom <33333

Mouse:
MOUSE! I LOVED being on team Giga with you, even though we weren’t in the same cabin. It was wonderful, thank you <33

Sage:
Ahh being on team Giga with you was a blast, thank you

Bangsian:
I loved being your enemy and being part of the mess of wars at cabin wars <333 thank you.

Kit:
Your great and amazing, and i enjoyed kabooming you.

Everyone i warred in cabin wars:
KABOOOM!!!

Hosts:
This session was great, thank you

Camper Cabin:
Ahaha going on strike was so fun. Thank you

Everyone in the toes saga:
This was one of the amazing crazy things that happen in SWC, i had a lot of fun hehe. #AylascathairbusinessFTW

Thank you all, this was an amazing session, and i can’t wait to see everyone next time in March. Goodbye for now

The congratulations certificate thing-y is here (posted on my alt): https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1104275154/

The weekly is a total of 3150 words

100 words to begin - 138 words

This weekly was really fun! I know I probably should have written this part before the rest of the weekly, but for some reason I forgot to (cringes). So I’ve decided this will be some kind of crazy author’s note that gets off track.

The prompts were absolutely AMAZING! I loved writing this story. Although, I have to admit, I did have to get a little… creative, because some loose ends weren’t tying up, but I think I did pretty well.

Also, not me jamming to Mouse’s covers while writing this—great job, Mouse!

Hmm… What else did I want to put in this? Oh, yes. This is my first time writing the fourth weekly in a session, because I’m always on vacation during the fourth week. However, I’ve only been here two sessions, so there’s that.

Ok, bye!




















Ancient China - 208 words
Prompt: Morally grey character

I’m not here to waste any time. My foot taps impatiently. My lips purse. My arms are crossed.

And the barista is moving slower than a stupid /snail/. I stare longingly at the black coffee another waitress places on the table. It’s someone else’s order.

I bet they don’t even need it. Not like I do.

My mouth waters.

My hands are moving before I can stop them, snatching up the coffee and setting a brisk pace towards the door. I glance at the waitress once more. She is unaware.

I grin as I walk out the door. For some reason, everything tastes a little better when it’s stolen.

I nab a lady’s wallet as I reach my car. It’s neon green with hot pink beads—so ugly I doubt it will be missed. I climb into my red Porsche—stolen, of course. As I drive I hear sirens and notice a police car behind me.

It’s Toby—the guy who usually chases me. I smirk and crank the accelerator. As usual, he lets out a shout and picks up the speed, too.

Toby is a bit of a… wannabe. He tries to be a “cool” police officer by saying stuff like “That’s one /fast/ criminal” and “My!” —and fails miserably.









Navajo Nation - 245 words
Prompt: Your character is forced to make a decision they didn’t want to

I frown. My head feels… swimmy, as if it has decided to go to sleep while the rest of me is awake. My vision blurs, and I nearly crash my car into the water around me.

Wait. Water?

I frown as I realize it—the police officers have chased me up a small strip of land surrounded by water, and the land is running out, because I catch a glint of azure a few feet away from me.

How could I have been so stupid?

There’s only one thing left to do now. I ready myself to drive into the water but before I can do anything my eyelids droop and it all goes black.

* * *

/The coffee/, I think as I wake up. /It was the coffee./

I feel so betrayed. Angry at myself, for being so stupid. Angry at Toby, for being smarter than I thought he was. Angry at all the people in the world—especially Amara.

It’s all my fault, though. I know that.

I look around and realize I’m in a prison cell. Gray bars surround me, a musty smell in the air. I wrinkle my nose. So old fashioned. This shouldn’t be too hard.

I reach inside my pocket for my lockpick wires, frowning when I find nothing. I glance down and realize I’m wearing a black and white jumpsuit — a prisoner’s uniform. They probably searched my entire body while I was out. Still, I reach inside my boots and find… nothing.




Aztecs - 211 words
Prompt: Incorporate an image/symbol of some sort that unearthes a memory in the main character.

I am utterly defenseless. I feel something around my neck. I reach up to find a stone pendant hanging on a thin metal chain.

It looks all too familiar — from the teal stone’s smooth-as-glass polish to the swirl carved into it. A shudder rolls down my spine.

Amara’s necklace.

/Amara was my girlfriend. She was like a beautiful Moana, with dark brown skin and black wavy curls that went down to her waist.

But I didn’t love her only for her looks. She was the most sweet, caring person I had ever met, always rambling about “saving the turtles” and “cleaning the ocean”. And as a crook who stole from the poor, something about her intrigued me. I asked her out, keeping my identity a secret.

For some strange reason, she agreed. On our first date, everything just clicked. And BAM! We were dating.

I thought she loved me, so I stole her a pretty ring. It was silver with a teal green turtle on it. I proposed to her with it. She accepted with tears of joy in her eyes, giving me her necklace in return.

We both wore them, but I would spend hours obsessing over the pendant, dreaming of a family with Amara.

My life of crime forgotten./
































Mayan - 248 words
Prompt: A creation/origin story about your character

I was born different—not different as in a disorder, but different in essence. My blood ran cold, so cold the doctors thought I was a stillborn when I came out of the womb. My eyes are black—not dark brown, jet black. My nose has a weird shape to it, a shape I have never seen on anyone else.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the devil’s child.

The freak. I’ve always been a freak, even with Amara. The only difference was that she loved me for it, and everyone else hates me for it.

Who wouldn’t hate me? I was foolish, so foolish for thinking I could have a future. Amara ruined everything.

One day, Amara told me to get in the car. She was taking me somewhere special, she said.

“A surprise,” she told me.

I grinned, overjoyed, and climbed into her red car. Our wedding was in a few weeks, and we were bubbling with excitement.

Little did I know that this trip would end everything.

* * *

“You’ll love it!” Amara chattered as she guided me past a street and into a beautiful house. It was surrounded by flowers and plants and nature—just the kind of house that makes me think of her.

I grin as Amara keeps talking. She always talks a lot when she’s nervous.

She introduces me to her mother, a short plump woman whom she shares her curls with. Something about her looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Not yet.




Inuit - 217 words
Prompt: Main character shows empathy and helps an animal

Screech, screech.

A sound worse than nails on a chalkboard interrupts my thoughts. I look up and see… a rooster? Yep, that’s a rooster all right. I stare at its dirty, oily feathers. It squawks at me.

It is standing in front of my prison, thin and weak and exhausted. Although it disgusts me, I also… kind of feel bad for it? It must have made its way in through the barred window above me. It certainly looks skinny enough to do so.

It’s like me in a way. Trapped, weak, a shell of what it could have been.

Dang. I must really be crazy if I’m comparing myself to a rooster.

The rooster squawks again, tired and hungry. I hear its stomach growl.

I stare at my tray of food, untouched and cold since it was brought in hours ago. I pick up an apple and offer it to the rooster.

It snaps its beak and nearly takes out my hand, eating the entire thing ravenously.

It feels good to be helping someone. I stare at its deranged brown eyes and sigh. I’ve always had a soft spot for animals.

“You’re with me now,” I mutter. The rooster cocks its head at me, all wide-eyed and curious, before slipping through the bars and into my cell.


























Ancient Rome - 240 words
Prompt: Character development in the main character that makes them from a character to a hero.

I wake up to an orange light filling my cell with warmth. I frown and realize it… it’s coming from the rooster. It is shivering in the cold.

I sigh and pick up the sleeping rooster. It farts loudly, and I wrinkle my nose.

“Gassy,” I mutter. But I hold the rooster until it stops shivering. I think about putting it down on the ground, and quickly change my mind. I am cold as well, and if sharing body warmth will change that, I don’t want to stop.

The chicken has a familiar… feel to it, as if I’ve met it before. I frown.

“Are you just going to sit there?”

I yelp and whip around to see a blonde woman wrapped in a thick, woolen robe. Her blue eyes meet my black ones.

“W-Who are you?”

Then, reality hits me, and I cross my arms.

“I’m not telling you anything. You can torture me all you want, but I’ll never, ever tell you.”

The blonde woman frowns.

“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I’m here to take you to our headquarters and train you”

“What now?”

“Because you saved the rooster, it has deemed you worthy of heroship, so we have to train you.” The woman says it slowly, as if I’m stupid.

“Train me for what?”

“Train you to be a hero, of course. By the way, I’m Khione, Greek goddess of snow.”

“GODDESS?”

































Ancient Greece - 256 words
Prompt: Incorporate spiritual/supernatural stuff.

“So… are you going to explain anything else to me? Any catfish that cause earthquakes or talking clocks?” I laugh cynically.

“We have quite a large namazu population, and all clocks in our academy can talk.”

“Are you… serious?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

“Yes?”

Khione turns to glare at me. I smirk back.

“Quit talking so much or I’ll slap you to next Tuesday.”

I doubt she’s joking, so I shut up.

Yeah, there’s no doubt: this lady is a psycho killer who wants to kidnap me. She was probably hired by a thug who I annoyed while stealing and came up with this lie because she thinks I’m stupid.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” I mutter defensively.

“Look at that.” She points to a shimmering white lump in the distance. I squint, and it transforms into… a unicorn?

I groan mentally. Right now is not the time to lose my mind. I’ve had this problem since kindergarten—I see things that aren’t actually there. Once I saw a phoenix in the shower with me and ran around the entire house screaming.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“A pile of snow,” I lied.

“What do you see?” she asks again, sharper this time.

“A u-unicorn.” I decide there is no point in lying to her—she can probably read my mind or something. It would explain why she was so creepy.

I wait for her to tell me I’m delusional or to shut up.

She nods, as if in… approval?

“You’re a hero, all right.”



























Minoans - 213 words
Prompt: Your character comes across undecipherable writing they must decrypt.

“Welcome to the academy,” Khione announces, gesturing to… whoa.

It’s gorgeous, a large parchment-colored castle with clumps of snow glittering everywhere. Everywhere I look, students in dark brown uniforms scurry, some carrying books and others laughing with friends.

“This is where we, the gods, train mortals that the roosters deem worthy of heroship.”

Heroship. That word again. It’s a strange word, the kind that you think doesn’t belong in the dictionary—like “funner”. But at the same time, it feels so… right. As if it’s already a part of me.

There is a large, wide parapet, where something is written in what I assume is another language. To me it looks like scribbles.

Khione catches me looking at it and asks, “What does it say?”

I squint and frown at the writing. Suddenly, the scribbles make sense and I can read them.

“Academy of Heroes,” I read.

I wonder what “hero” means here. I doubt it means flashy costumes and capes, like the comics my brother used to love.

“Why do we need heroes?” I blurt.

“Your teachers will tell you everything,” said Khione, clearly fed up with all my questions. She opens a door and guides me down a small hallway. Even the lighting is gorgeous—a warm candle-like shade that illuminates the place.




Swahili - 222 words
Prompt: Write in play script format

Me: *gawks at the beautiful palace*

Khione: *grabs my arm*

Khione: Hurry up, or we’ll be late to your initiation ceremony.

Me: Initiation ceremony? What’s that?

Khione: *exasperated sigh*

Laurel: There you are, Khione! I’ve been searching half the academy for you!

Khione: I’m on urgent business. I can’t talk right now.

Laurel: Come on! Just five minutes?

Khione: No. If you leave me alone right now, I’ll take you on a date at the beach this weekend.

Laurel: REALLY? *gasps*

Me: Wait, you guys are… d-dating?

Khione: *raises eyebrow*

Khione: You got a problem with that?

Me: N-No! It’s just… she’s a girl!

*Laurel and Khione start laughing hysterically*

Me: *gawks at Khione*

Laurel: This kid’s never seen a lesbian couple!
Khione: Haven’t you heard of LGBTQ+?

Me: Um… No?

Laurel: *cackles*

Laurel: This kid is going to be the death of me.

Khione: *rolls eyes*

Khione: Whatever. Come on, we gotta go.

Laurel: Can I come too?

Khione: Okay.

Laurel: YAY!

* * *

Initiator: Information?

Khione: Louis Becker, age twenty two, five-foot-two.

Me: Hey! I’m not that short!

Khione: I’m not talking about your height, idiot. Shut up and let me do the talking.

Laurel: She’s just grumpy. She doesn’t like taking the initiates up to the ceremony. Claims they talk too much. No offense or anything, of course.

Me: None taken?





Aboriginal Australians - 259 words
Prompt: Incorporate a creation story character

After that strange and rather informal interaction, Khione seemed like an entirely different person. I frowned at the initiator.

He looked like Lord Brahma, the god who had created the world in Hindu mythology. Now he looks like Allah. No, now he’s Amun. Different faces flash at me. I am so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice the initiator placing his hands on my shoulders. There is a loud buzzing that jolts me out of my thoughts.

I’ve heard that buzzing before.

/Amara’s mother is kind, and she insists on bringing me tea. I sit and wait, Amara next to me.

“I have a brother, too, but he’s in college,” Amara chattered. “His name is-”

“Oren,” I interrupt with a grin. “I know—you’ve only told me a billion times.”

Amara blushed.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “My dad should be coming right about now. He wanted to see you.”

“Uh-oh!” I joke, pretending to gulp loudly. Amara giggles.

“He’s not /that/ bad,” Amara protested.

“From what you’ve told me, he wants to eat me for lunch!”

Amara snorts.

“Shut /up/.”

I hear the loud purring of a car near us, then silence as the driver shuts off the engine and climbs out. I look out the window to see a short, stubby man with a black mustache walk towards the door.

I freeze.

That is Richard Hartman, chief police officer, my worst enemy, and, I realize, Amara’s father.

I get up and start running, searching for the back door, but there is none. The door opens.

Time stops./
























Ancient Egypt - 228 words
Prompt: The main character has a dark day where they doubt everything

/Richard put me in a prison, much like the one I met the rooster in. He was furious.

When he had walked into the room, he had looked at me with deadly calm, then glanced at Amara and said, “You have done well”.

That was when I realized I had been played by two intelligent people.

Richard did horrible things to me in that prison, things so terrifying I will not write about them.

I found myself doubting everything. I could have easily escaped the prison—I was a great lockpicker, and Richard hadn’t bothered to check my pockets for anything.

But I began to wonder if I deserved a bright future. I wondered if this was where I was meant to be, for my whole life.

Rotten and dying in a dark prison.

Soon the belief was cemented in my mind.

I was the devil’s child. I deserved this.

I don’t know when it happened. I just woke up one day and I wasn’t in my cell. I stared at the sun for the first time in ages, felt it on my pale and withered skin.

And I started again. I became a better thief. I got dirtier, trickier, and meaner.

But I could never forget about Amara. I could never take off her necklace, because I was chained to her with a shackle no one could break./





Mesopotamia - 256 words
Prompt: Add a poem/poetry

A boy
Born with hope
Shining like sunlight
Smiling

Bullied and beaten and weathered down
Like a gemstone eroded by water
All its beauty forgotten

Slinking in the shadows
One with the rats
The scum and filth of the gutters
At his lowest

Rescued
Rescued by a beam of light
Pulling him out of the shadows
The beam of light wasn’t light at all

For beams of light
Can only go so far before they are
Consumed by darkness
And lost in the shadows

The gemstone is a black rock
And it doesn’t even know

Suddenly the gemstone sees
That the beam of light
Is corrupt

And it
r
u
n
s

Runs back to the shadows
Back to the filth and scum
Back to the rats and the dirty
Back to the thieves dirtier

It seeks solace in the darkness
Tries to be like them

But it is
Never dark enough
Never dirty enough
Never thief enough
For the scum to accept it

It sees the sun
And embraces it for the first time
It has nothing to lose

The sun shows it
The right path
But the gemstone hesitates

The sun is a gentle hand
Guiding lost boys to a world of peace
It understands the gemstone
For once it was a gemstone too

The gemstone begins
On the right path this time
And with each step
Its beauty grows

It glimmers with aubergine
Shines like a wedding ring
But it is more than that

It is happiness
It is love
It is itself.





















Aksum - 209 words
Prompt: Character must trade/barter for something they want

”Greetings,” he says, stepping out of the shadows.

My entire body freezes. He is the gasoline that fuels the car of my nightmares, a horror that the devil’s child has witnessed.

Richard.

“When I freed you from prison, I made a deal with you,” he says.

What?

“You freed me?”

“Yes. The conditions for that deal were that I would grant you your freedom, and you would give me one of your memories every year. It has been a year since we struck that deal.”

“Last year I chose to forget the memory of our bargain,” I realize.

Richard’s smile tells me I am correct. He isn’t the kind of person who should smile—his smile looks like that of a snake’s ready to eat its prey.

“What memory shall you give me this year?”


I say, without thinking, “My memory of Amara”.

“Okay.”

Richard steps forward, grabs my head, and suddenly everything goes black.

* * *

“Louis?”

A voice echoes through my head.

“Louis?” Louder this time.

“LOUIS!”

I wake up with a gasp, staring into a pair of pale blue eyes. Khione’s.

“Louis, are you okay?”

I look around and realize I’m in a hospital bed. Tubes are plugged into my arms. My eyes close.

I fall into Death’s arms.

The congratulations certificate thing-y is here (posted on my alt): https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1104275154/

The weekly is a total of 3150 words

100 words to begin - 138 words

This weekly was really fun! I know I probably should have written this part before the rest of the weekly, but for some reason I forgot to (cringes). So I’ve decided this will be some kind of crazy author’s note that gets off track.

The prompts were absolutely AMAZING! I loved writing this story. Although, I have to admit, I did have to get a little… creative, because some loose ends weren’t tying up, but I think I did pretty well.

Also, not me jamming to Mouse’s covers while writing this—great job, Mouse!

Hmm… What else did I want to put in this? Oh, yes. This is my first time writing the fourth weekly in a session, because I’m always on vacation during the fourth week. However, I’ve only been here two sessions, so there’s that.

Ok, bye!




















Ancient China - 208 words
Prompt: Morally grey character

I’m not here to waste any time. My foot taps impatiently. My lips purse. My arms are crossed.

And the barista is moving slower than a stupid /snail/. I stare longingly at the black coffee another waitress places on the table. It’s someone else’s order.

I bet they don’t even need it. Not like I do.

My mouth waters.

My hands are moving before I can stop them, snatching up the coffee and setting a brisk pace towards the door. I glance at the waitress once more. She is unaware.

I grin as I walk out the door. For some reason, everything tastes a little better when it’s stolen.

I nab a lady’s wallet as I reach my car. It’s neon green with hot pink beads—so ugly I doubt it will be missed. I climb into my red Porsche—stolen, of course. As I drive I hear sirens and notice a police car behind me.

It’s Toby—the guy who usually chases me. I smirk and crank the accelerator. As usual, he lets out a shout and picks up the speed, too.

Toby is a bit of a… wannabe. He tries to be a “cool” police officer by saying stuff like “That’s one /fast/ criminal” and “My!” —and fails miserably.









Navajo Nation - 245 words
Prompt: Your character is forced to make a decision they didn’t want to

I frown. My head feels… swimmy, as if it has decided to go to sleep while the rest of me is awake. My vision blurs, and I nearly crash my car into the water around me.

Wait. Water?

I frown as I realize it—the police officers have chased me up a small strip of land surrounded by water, and the land is running out, because I catch a glint of azure a few feet away from me.

How could I have been so stupid?

There’s only one thing left to do now. I ready myself to drive into the water but before I can do anything my eyelids droop and it all goes black.

* * *

/The coffee/, I think as I wake up. /It was the coffee./

I feel so betrayed. Angry at myself, for being so stupid. Angry at Toby, for being smarter than I thought he was. Angry at all the people in the world—especially Amara.

It’s all my fault, though. I know that.

I look around and realize I’m in a prison cell. Gray bars surround me, a musty smell in the air. I wrinkle my nose. So old fashioned. This shouldn’t be too hard.

I reach inside my pocket for my lockpick wires, frowning when I find nothing. I glance down and realize I’m wearing a black and white jumpsuit — a prisoner’s uniform. They probably searched my entire body while I was out. Still, I reach inside my boots and find… nothing.




Aztecs - 211 words
Prompt: Incorporate an image/symbol of some sort that unearthes a memory in the main character.

I am utterly defenseless. I feel something around my neck. I reach up to find a stone pendant hanging on a thin metal chain.

It looks all too familiar — from the teal stone’s smooth-as-glass polish to the swirl carved into it. A shudder rolls down my spine.

Amara’s necklace.

/Amara was my girlfriend. She was like a beautiful Moana, with dark brown skin and black wavy curls that went down to her waist.

But I didn’t love her only for her looks. She was the most sweet, caring person I had ever met, always rambling about “saving the turtles” and “cleaning the ocean”. And as a crook who stole from the poor, something about her intrigued me. I asked her out, keeping my identity a secret.

For some strange reason, she agreed. On our first date, everything just clicked. And BAM! We were dating.

I thought she loved me, so I stole her a pretty ring. It was silver with a teal green turtle on it. I proposed to her with it. She accepted with tears of joy in her eyes, giving me her necklace in return.

We both wore them, but I would spend hours obsessing over the pendant, dreaming of a family with Amara.

My life of crime forgotten./
































Mayan - 248 words
Prompt: A creation/origin story about your character

I was born different—not different as in a disorder, but different in essence. My blood ran cold, so cold the doctors thought I was a stillborn when I came out of the womb. My eyes are black—not dark brown, jet black. My nose has a weird shape to it, a shape I have never seen on anyone else.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the devil’s child.

The freak. I’ve always been a freak, even with Amara. The only difference was that she loved me for it, and everyone else hates me for it.

Who wouldn’t hate me? I was foolish, so foolish for thinking I could have a future. Amara ruined everything.

One day, Amara told me to get in the car. She was taking me somewhere special, she said.

“A surprise,” she told me.

I grinned, overjoyed, and climbed into her red car. Our wedding was in a few weeks, and we were bubbling with excitement.

Little did I know that this trip would end everything.

* * *

“You’ll love it!” Amara chattered as she guided me past a street and into a beautiful house. It was surrounded by flowers and plants and nature—just the kind of house that makes me think of her.

I grin as Amara keeps talking. She always talks a lot when she’s nervous.

She introduces me to her mother, a short plump woman whom she shares her curls with. Something about her looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Not yet.




Inuit - 217 words
Prompt: Main character shows empathy and helps an animal

Screech, screech.

A sound worse than nails on a chalkboard interrupts my thoughts. I look up and see… a rooster? Yep, that’s a rooster all right. I stare at its dirty, oily feathers. It squawks at me.

It is standing in front of my prison, thin and weak and exhausted. Although it disgusts me, I also… kind of feel bad for it? It must have made its way in through the barred window above me. It certainly looks skinny enough to do so.

It’s like me in a way. Trapped, weak, a shell of what it could have been.

Dang. I must really be crazy if I’m comparing myself to a rooster.

The rooster squawks again, tired and hungry. I hear its stomach growl.

I stare at my tray of food, untouched and cold since it was brought in hours ago. I pick up an apple and offer it to the rooster.

It snaps its beak and nearly takes out my hand, eating the entire thing ravenously.

It feels good to be helping someone. I stare at its deranged brown eyes and sigh. I’ve always had a soft spot for animals.

“You’re with me now,” I mutter. The rooster cocks its head at me, all wide-eyed and curious, before slipping through the bars and into my cell.


























Ancient Rome - 240 words
Prompt: Character development in the main character that makes them from a character to a hero.

I wake up to an orange light filling my cell with warmth. I frown and realize it… it’s coming from the rooster. It is shivering in the cold.

I sigh and pick up the sleeping rooster. It farts loudly, and I wrinkle my nose.

“Gassy,” I mutter. But I hold the rooster until it stops shivering. I think about putting it down on the ground, and quickly change my mind. I am cold as well, and if sharing body warmth will change that, I don’t want to stop.

The chicken has a familiar… feel to it, as if I’ve met it before. I frown.

“Are you just going to sit there?”

I yelp and whip around to see a blonde woman wrapped in a thick, woolen robe. Her blue eyes meet my black ones.

“W-Who are you?”

Then, reality hits me, and I cross my arms.

“I’m not telling you anything. You can torture me all you want, but I’ll never, ever tell you.”

The blonde woman frowns.

“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I’m here to take you to our headquarters and train you”

“What now?”

“Because you saved the rooster, it has deemed you worthy of heroship, so we have to train you.” The woman says it slowly, as if I’m stupid.

“Train me for what?”

“Train you to be a hero, of course. By the way, I’m Khione, Greek goddess of snow.”

“GODDESS?”

































Ancient Greece - 256 words
Prompt: Incorporate spiritual/supernatural stuff.

“So… are you going to explain anything else to me? Any catfish that cause earthquakes or talking clocks?” I laugh cynically.

“We have quite a large namazu population, and all clocks in our academy can talk.”

“Are you… serious?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

“Yes?”

Khione turns to glare at me. I smirk back.

“Quit talking so much or I’ll slap you to next Tuesday.”

I doubt she’s joking, so I shut up.

Yeah, there’s no doubt: this lady is a psycho killer who wants to kidnap me. She was probably hired by a thug who I annoyed while stealing and came up with this lie because she thinks I’m stupid.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” I mutter defensively.

“Look at that.” She points to a shimmering white lump in the distance. I squint, and it transforms into… a unicorn?

I groan mentally. Right now is not the time to lose my mind. I’ve had this problem since kindergarten—I see things that aren’t actually there. Once I saw a phoenix in the shower with me and ran around the entire house screaming.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“A pile of snow,” I lied.

“What do you see?” she asks again, sharper this time.

“A u-unicorn.” I decide there is no point in lying to her—she can probably read my mind or something. It would explain why she was so creepy.

I wait for her to tell me I’m delusional or to shut up.

She nods, as if in… approval?

“You’re a hero, all right.”



























Minoans - 213 words
Prompt: Your character comes across undecipherable writing they must decrypt.

“Welcome to the academy,” Khione announces, gesturing to… whoa.

It’s gorgeous, a large parchment-colored castle with clumps of snow glittering everywhere. Everywhere I look, students in dark brown uniforms scurry, some carrying books and others laughing with friends.

“This is where we, the gods, train mortals that the roosters deem worthy of heroship.”

Heroship. That word again. It’s a strange word, the kind that you think doesn’t belong in the dictionary—like “funner”. But at the same time, it feels so… right. As if it’s already a part of me.

There is a large, wide parapet, where something is written in what I assume is another language. To me it looks like scribbles.

Khione catches me looking at it and asks, “What does it say?”

I squint and frown at the writing. Suddenly, the scribbles make sense and I can read them.

“Academy of Heroes,” I read.

I wonder what “hero” means here. I doubt it means flashy costumes and capes, like the comics my brother used to love.

“Why do we need heroes?” I blurt.

“Your teachers will tell you everything,” said Khione, clearly fed up with all my questions. She opens a door and guides me down a small hallway. Even the lighting is gorgeous—a warm candle-like shade that illuminates the place.




Swahili - 222 words
Prompt: Write in play script format

Me: *gawks at the beautiful palace*

Khione: *grabs my arm*

Khione: Hurry up, or we’ll be late to your initiation ceremony.

Me: Initiation ceremony? What’s that?

Khione: *exasperated sigh*

Laurel: There you are, Khione! I’ve been searching half the academy for you!

Khione: I’m on urgent business. I can’t talk right now.

Laurel: Come on! Just five minutes?

Khione: No. If you leave me alone right now, I’ll take you on a date at the beach this weekend.

Laurel: REALLY? *gasps*

Me: Wait, you guys are… d-dating?

Khione: *raises eyebrow*

Khione: You got a problem with that?

Me: N-No! It’s just… she’s a girl!

*Laurel and Khione start laughing hysterically*

Me: *gawks at Khione*

Laurel: This kid’s never seen a lesbian couple!
Khione: Haven’t you heard of LGBTQ+?

Me: Um… No?

Laurel: *cackles*

Laurel: This kid is going to be the death of me.

Khione: *rolls eyes*

Khione: Whatever. Come on, we gotta go.

Laurel: Can I come too?

Khione: Okay.

Laurel: YAY!

* * *

Initiator: Information?

Khione: Louis Becker, age twenty two, five-foot-two.

Me: Hey! I’m not that short!

Khione: I’m not talking about your height, idiot. Shut up and let me do the talking.

Laurel: She’s just grumpy. She doesn’t like taking the initiates up to the ceremony. Claims they talk too much. No offense or anything, of course.

Me: None taken?





Aboriginal Australians - 259 words
Prompt: Incorporate a creation story character

After that strange and rather informal interaction, Khione seemed like an entirely different person. I frowned at the initiator.

He looked like Lord Brahma, the god who had created the world in Hindu mythology. Now he looks like Allah. No, now he’s Amun. Different faces flash at me. I am so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice the initiator placing his hands on my shoulders. There is a loud buzzing that jolts me out of my thoughts.

I’ve heard that buzzing before.

/Amara’s mother is kind, and she insists on bringing me tea. I sit and wait, Amara next to me.

“I have a brother, too, but he’s in college,” Amara chattered. “His name is-”

“Oren,” I interrupt with a grin. “I know—you’ve only told me a billion times.”

Amara blushed.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “My dad should be coming right about now. He wanted to see you.”

“Uh-oh!” I joke, pretending to gulp loudly. Amara giggles.

“He’s not /that/ bad,” Amara protested.

“From what you’ve told me, he wants to eat me for lunch!”

Amara snorts.

“Shut /up/.”

I hear the loud purring of a car near us, then silence as the driver shuts off the engine and climbs out. I look out the window to see a short, stubby man with a black mustache walk towards the door.

I freeze.

That is Richard Hartman, chief police officer, my worst enemy, and, I realize, Amara’s father.

I get up and start running, searching for the back door, but there is none. The door opens.

Time stops./
























Ancient Egypt - 228 words
Prompt: The main character has a dark day where they doubt everything

/Richard put me in a prison, much like the one I met the rooster in. He was furious.

When he had walked into the room, he had looked at me with deadly calm, then glanced at Amara and said, “You have done well”.

That was when I realized I had been played by two intelligent people.

Richard did horrible things to me in that prison, things so terrifying I will not write about them.

I found myself doubting everything. I could have easily escaped the prison—I was a great lockpicker, and Richard hadn’t bothered to check my pockets for anything.

But I began to wonder if I deserved a bright future. I wondered if this was where I was meant to be, for my whole life.

Rotten and dying in a dark prison.

Soon the belief was cemented in my mind.

I was the devil’s child. I deserved this.

I don’t know when it happened. I just woke up one day and I wasn’t in my cell. I stared at the sun for the first time in ages, felt it on my pale and withered skin.

And I started again. I became a better thief. I got dirtier, trickier, and meaner.

But I could never forget about Amara. I could never take off her necklace, because I was chained to her with a shackle no one could break./





Mesopotamia - 256 words
Prompt: Add a poem/poetry

A boy
Born with hope
Shining like sunlight
Smiling

Bullied and beaten and weathered down
Like a gemstone eroded by water
All its beauty forgotten

Slinking in the shadows
One with the rats
The scum and filth of the gutters
At his lowest

Rescued
Rescued by a beam of light
Pulling him out of the shadows
The beam of light wasn’t light at all

For beams of light
Can only go so far before they are
Consumed by darkness
And lost in the shadows

The gemstone is a black rock
And it doesn’t even know

Suddenly the gemstone sees
That the beam of light
Is corrupt

And it
r
u
n
s

Runs back to the shadows
Back to the filth and scum
Back to the rats and the dirty
Back to the thieves dirtier

It seeks solace in the darkness
Tries to be like them

But it is
Never dark enough
Never dirty enough
Never thief enough
For the scum to accept it

It sees the sun
And embraces it for the first time
It has nothing to lose

The sun shows it
The right path
But the gemstone hesitates

The sun is a gentle hand
Guiding lost boys to a world of peace
It understands the gemstone
For once it was a gemstone too

The gemstone begins
On the right path this time
And with each step
Its beauty grows

It glimmers with aubergine
Shines like a wedding ring
But it is more than that

It is happiness
It is love
It is itself.





















Aksum - 209 words
Prompt: Character must trade/barter for something they want

”Greetings,” he says, stepping out of the shadows.

My entire body freezes. He is the gasoline that fuels the car of my nightmares, a horror that the devil’s child has witnessed.

Richard.

“When I freed you from prison, I made a deal with you,” he says.

What?

“You freed me?”

“Yes. The conditions for that deal were that I would grant you your freedom, and you would give me one of your memories every year. It has been a year since we struck that deal.”

“Last year I chose to forget the memory of our bargain,” I realize.

Richard’s smile tells me I am correct. He isn’t the kind of person who should smile—his smile looks like that of a snake’s ready to eat its prey.

“What memory shall you give me this year?”


I say, without thinking, “My memory of Amara”.

“Okay.”

Richard steps forward, grabs my head, and suddenly everything goes black.

* * *

“Louis?”

A voice echoes through my head.

“Louis?” Louder this time.

“LOUIS!”

I wake up with a gasp, staring into a pair of pale blue eyes. Khione’s.

“Louis, are you okay?”

I look around and realize I’m in a hospital bed. Tubes are plugged into my arms. My eyes close.

I fall into darkness’s arms.

chueys weekly im dead bye i lost 456 years off my life writing this, 2812 words
tis pure silliness because hero mold man needed a comeback also i included child sacrifice (i swear i didnt mean to it wiggled its way in) so tw i guess?

It was another celebration day in the dairy aisle, marking the anniversary of the heroic adventure of Hero Mold Man and the subsequent discovery of the Mold people’s new food source. It had been exactly a week since he had discovered all the delicious lactose to be found in the aisle, and everyone was eating cheese and yogurt and leaving behind beautiful green trails of mold. They would eat everything they could wiggle into and then run away before the humans that owned the store could find out what they had done and come after them. That was what they had always done.

Hero Mold Man hadn't always been a hero. It had all started one fateful hour when he went to another section of the supermarket and came back changed…
The Mold people had a difficult time finding food in the snack section of the store. It was always so tightly sealed up! They didn’t have a chance to get in and feast.
“We’re going to starve!” the Mold people said. “We’ve gotta find a new food source!”
But although they looked and looked, the snack section stretched on for what seemed like miles, and even after their culture advanced enough to build spaceships they were still not better off. There was nothing in the entire aisle that they could get to easily, and they fell into despair and hunger. Who would feed the mold children? Who would nourish the mold warriors? Truly their fate was one most deplorable.
Then Hero Mold Man, who was just an ordinary mold man then, discovered the diary section.
Ah, here was sustenance! Here was food! The Mold people descended on the dairy aisle and ate their way through it in days. The children were fed. The warriors were fed. And everywhere the people were rejoicing.
When interviewed about his decision to venture into a different aisle of the supermarket, Hero Mold Man stared into the distance. “It was a difficult choice to make. We were running out of time…”

A few days earlier
The ship was going to crash unless they turned around.
“We’ve got to abort the mission!” the captain yelled. “We don’t have enough fuel to keep going.” She sighed and stared into the distance. “I guess this is the end,” she whispered. “We just don’t have the means to venture any further.”
Mold Man shook his head. “What if there’s something just up ahead? We’ve got to keep going, or more Mold people will die.”
The captain walked away. “I can’t do this anymore. Mold Man, if you’re so intent on destroying us all, go ahead. I quit.”
Mold Man hurried to the controls, getting a look at what their situation was. If they didn’t turn around soon, they wouldn’t have enough fuel to get back.
But did they have a choice? More people would die if they gave up.
“We go forward,” Mold Man said, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision. The lives of the Mold people aboard the ship rested on him.
The fuel level dipped lower…lower…
And then, before them, the dairy aisle unfolded.

But it was either go back now, before the fuel dropped any lower, or explore. They couldn’t do both, and who knew if the aisle was even inhabitable?
“We found something, now let’s go back,” the captain said, reappearing. She glanced at the fuel levels and shuddered. “We’re barely going to make it as it is. We can migrate over here, slowly.”
“We’ll die if we do; we don’t have enough food to keep going for so long,” Mold Man objected.
“I’m too tired to think about this. I quit again,” the captain said, who was noted for never making any decisions that might lead to fights breaking out. She said they gave her headaches.
“If we keep going, we can start a new colony on the dairy aisle,” one of the crew members suggested.
“Yes, but that means leaving our people behind,” Mold Man said heavily.
There was silence over the ship as they pondered this.
“We’re going to die anyway…?” someone said feebly.
Mold Man stared into the distance, pondering. There was little hope for those they had left behind. Even if they returned, they didn’t have the time or resources to build enough ships to fly to the dairy aisle. They’d all die.
But if they abandoned those behind them and started a new colony here, the Mold people might survive.
“We keep going,” Mold Man said.

The ship stuttered and rumbled as they went forward, but nothing too concerning happened. It meandered leisurely through the air as the crew steered it towards the new aisle that awaited them. It was bright and cold, different from the snack aisle, and it smelled of delicious things. A thirsty-looking frog hopped across the floor on its way to the water bottle section, but since the Mold people hadn’t explored that far yet they didn’t care (and anyways, Mold people like food better than water). Mold man sighed as he steered forwards, feeling deep regret at leaving his people behind. But maybe here they could start a new life, here in the strange, cold, but yummy new aisle. It looked much more promising than the snack aisle, that was for sure. There were packages, but they didn’t appear to be sealed quite so tightly. He could worm his way in and have a nibble…
No, no, he had to stay focused, even though it was tempting. He would never get anywhere if he kept stopping for snacks. Heroically, he ignored the food and looked for a good place to land, deciding to land on a promising-looking slab of swiss cheese.

Interviewer: So how did you decide to go down the dairy aisle?
Hero Mold Man: Well, it was a tough decision. Everyone was screaming, and it was chaos. The fuel levels were dipping, and we had a hard path ahead of us. When the captain quit, I stepped up and helped. It was the only thing to do. We went ahead, towards the future.
Interviewer: (scribbling furiously on a notepad) How did it feel deciding to leave everyone you ever knew behind?
Hero Mold Man: Terrible. I knew they had no hope, but if we didn’t keep going, neither would we. It was a matter of seeing who died, and in the end I chose the path that would let some of us live. The Mold people are a very important race and it would be the end of the world if we went extinct.
Interviewer: So you don’t think there are any other colonies of Mold people out here in the dairy aisle?
Hero Mold Man: Obviously not. We’re so special, how could there be more of us? And if there are, we would teach them their place pretty quick. This is our dairy aisle now, we need it.
Interviewer: Thank you for your answers.

The lactose spirits weren’t very happy about the invasion of the Mold people, and soon they made their presence known. When the Mold people first saw them they ran away screaming.
“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!” the people said, shivering in their nonexistent boots.
Why are you here eating our kind, the lactose spirits demanded.
“We were hungry,” Hero Mold Man said, stepping up. “We needed food. And we’re not leaving.”
There are more? More who have not signed the contract? More to bother us like buzzing flies? The lactose spirits growled and writhed, muttering to themselves.
“We were hungry,” Hero Mold Man repeated. “Also, what’s that about more?”
You are not the only ones here eating our dairy products, the lactose spirits said. But at least the other ones signed a contract.
“What’s the contract?” Hero Mold Man asked.
We eat children, you eat dairy, the lactose spirits said. Not all of the children, because then you’d die out. Even though you’re very annoying and that wouldn’t be a bad thing, we don’t want to upset the balance.
“Oh,” Hero Mold Man said weakly. “Um…children. Yes. Let me go talk about that with my council.”
That was how Hero Mold Man became an unofficial leader of the Mold people.

In a short time Hero Mold Man had gathered together a council, and they prepared to make a difficult decision once again.
“If we don’t, the lactose spirits will eat us, and we will starve,” Hero Mold Man said. “If we do, then we will lose our children to the monsters’ monstrous appetite.”
All the Mold people shook their heads sadly. “It’s impossible,” one of them says. “We’ll have to rely on your judgement, just as we have in the past.” Then they all went silent and slowly walked away, leaving him to himself.
Hero Mold Man stared at the ground, wrestling with himself. Once again, no matter what he did, people would die. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place with absolutely no way out.
Who got eaten? The children, or everyone?
He shivered and looked around, hoping that someone had stuck around to give him advice, but his impromptu council had vanished, and the lactose spirits were getting restless. There was only one way he’d get out of this alive, though he hated it. Slowly, delaying each step in case someone would mercifully rush up and stop him, he approached the lactose spirits.
“We accept.”

Hero Mold Man lived the rest of the day in a fog, shivering and wondering what the point of everything was. What had he done? They could have turned around, looked for a less aggressive aisle, and saved their children. Instead he had chosen the easy way out. He slumped and didn’t bother to pick himself back up.
Was this how it was going to be? Hero Mold Man, leading the Mold people and making one bad choice after another? Abandon the people. Abandon the children. Abandon their morals. They should have turned back. They should have run. They should have done anything but what they did. No, anything but what he did. It was his fault that they had chosen this path, because for some inexplicable reason they were all looking up to him now. He didn’t know what to do anymore than they did. He just wanted to escape this nightmare.
If he had tried harder, would he have done everything he had done so far? Would he have ruined so many lives the way he did?
He was just a Mold person, trying to eat food and stay alive. Was that so wrong? How many more would have to die for him to live?
The people needed someone, but they didn’t need him.

Wandering around looking for something to distract him from the darkness in his mind, Hero Mold Man found a mold cat. Huh. He’d thought that those had all stayed behind on the snack aisle.
Unless…he thought of the other Mold people that the lactose spirits had said inhabited the dairy aisle. Apparently there were more molds than just him out there. This must be one of their cats.
It appeared to be stuck between two yogurt cartons, and it was mewing pathetically.
Hero Mold Man sighed and shoved aside one of the cartons, letting the cat slip free. It rubbed its moldy little head against his legs before ducking away and leaping over dairy products. He followed it with his eyes until he couldn’t see it anymore and then resumed walking around feeling sorry for himself.
The cat returned a few minutes later with a scrap of cheese in its jaws, and it dropped it at his feet and purred, rubbing against him again. Hero Mold Man smiled and crouched down to pet the cat, popping the treat in his mouth. It tasted even more delicious than snack foods, and he moaned with delight. Dairy products were just so good!

As he continued walking, Hero Mold Man noticed the shiny packaging on a block of cheese. He stopped and looked at it, overwhelmed by nostalgia. He had seen packaging, albeit sturdier, just like this back home…
Before the migration
The package was thick and shiny, and the Mold people stared at it hungrily before swarming over it and trying to find an opening. For once, there was a flaw in the package, and they happily set about eating pretzels and leaving behind moldy dust. Those were the good times, when they’d find holes or cracks or tears, times when they could enter through the flaws and eat as much as they wanted. So often, they’d gone hungry instead.
But tonight there was a feast, and a festival. Mold people laughed and sang, waving pretzel fragments in the air in their joy. It had been a dark night in the supermarket, but the snack aisle was full of cheer and celebration, because there was food.
Here, in the dairy aisle, it was much easier to find food. But the feeling of celebration had vanished, replaced by…nothing. Food was no longer a prize but an accepted fact.
Hero Mold Man missed pretzels.

And then, suddenly, he smelled one. He walked forward as if in a trance, sniffing hungrily.
It was another mold man, one he didn’t recognize, and he was eating a yogurt-covered pretzel. Hero Mold Man approached him and held out his hand. “Can I have a bite?”
The mold man looked him up and down. “Yes, if you give me a bite in return. This’s my food, and I don’t wanna lose a bite just cause you want one.”
Hero Mold Man held up the rest of the cheese that the cat had given him. “There’s this,” he offered.
The mold man’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! That’s a hard to get cheese there. The packaging is so sturdy we can’t get in most of the time. We gotta rely on some animal with sharp claws to tear it open before we can forage.” He took the cheese bite and handed over a bite of the pretzel, which Hero Mold Man ate slowly, to savor it. He meandered away from the mold man, thinking about how good pretzels tasted and also wondering how the mold man had gotten it. Maybe he’d brought it with him on the ship. It was possible.

Hero Mold Man decided to compose a poem on how good the pretzel was. “There once was a pretzel from home that tasted much better than foam. I licked and I licked and I did not kick it because it was tasty.”
He paused and thought about his poem, but he didn’t think it was very good, so he tried again.
“There is a food
That I love in every mood
It is tasty and brown
And can turn a sad frown
Totally upside down
Into a smile
Though it may take a while.
While you eat the salt
You may come to a halt
To better taste
So don’t eat in haste.”
That sounded better, and he decided to compose more.
“Pretzels, pretzels, pretzels. They are so good.
I love pretzels more than I probably should.
They are crunchy and salty and everything good,
And they taste really nice with some yogurt.”
Satisfied with his poetry, Hero Mold Man finished his pretzel and looked around for something else to do. His funk had passed away and left him very bored, so he decided to jump up and down on a milk carton while singing his poetry aloud to music.

After getting tired of this, he decided to read what was on the milk carton. Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out how.
“Hey, come see if you can read what’s on this carton,” he said to the Mold people, but although they climbed up and looked at it they couldn’t read it.
Have fun, a passing lactose spirit said smugly. None of the other people living here have ever discovered the secret. They have to rely on us to tell them which cartons are ready to be consumed.
Hero Mold Man was determined to figure it out. He tried everything. He tried standing on his head. He tried sitting on it while looking down. He tried kicking the milk to see if it would behave and flip right side up.
Wait, right side up?
Hero Mold Man got off the carton and looked at it from below. Oh, there it was. He had just needed to look at it the right way. Smiling to himself, he read the letters. “Expiration date: A day slash a month slash a year.”
Then he gasped. “This is it! This is the secret to the milk cartons! If we get to them after the expiration date, they’ll be ready to eat!”
Everyone standing around cheered, because then they didn’t have to rely on the scary lactose spirits to tell them when the milk was ready for consumption.

link to weekly end thingy because scratch wont let me upload it: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1101424740/

Rose-colored Glasses

“I could hear you thinking from the house.”
As per usual, Ronye hadn’t heard their partner coming. But now that they knew she was there, they could picture her perfectly— even without their sight. Her bare feet would be sinking into the grass, arms crossed as she leaned against a tree. They heard a rustling and then a plop next to them.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
They inhaled deeply, hesitating for a moment. “I have been thinking,” their Russian accent made the words thick, “that we should not be here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is not right for us to hide from the world, to have this little paradise of our own.”
“Why not? We’re happy, aren’t we?”
Aren’t we? The rhetorical question held a real weight to Ronye. The longer they thought about it the more elusive the answer became. Allie was happy, they knew that much, but were they? How were they to construct a simple statement from the millions of thoughts floating around in their head? Ronye was a dreamer, and they wanted something most people had given up on. Peace. Out there, in the world the pair had escaped from, people were suffering. They couldn’t stand for that.
“I am a thinker, Allie,” they turned to the woman, looking at her blurry form with clouded eyes, “I have always been a thinker. I’ve come to the conclusion that this fact may mean I will never be satisfied. For in my head I have weighed all possibilities, all outcomes, all drawbacks. You are happy, my love, and I am content. But what about everyone else?”
They heard the familiar hitch in Allie’s breath and knew what phrase was coming. “Why must we be responsible for the world’s happiness, Ro? Why must you fix everything?”
“If I leave the world in this state I will never forgive myself.”
“Ronye, why can’t you stop playing god? You are not a savior! Neither of us are!” Her voice was tearful.
“I am not playing god,” they said the words slowly, as though speaking to a child, “and we can be saviors if we try.”
“For a self-proclaimed ‘thinker’ you can be really stupid sometimes! When will you stop seeing the world through rose-colored glasses? The world out there is a hellscape, Ro! You can’t fix that! Why can’t we just be happy?” There was a bite to her words that should have taken Ronye aback. Yet they were never one to take others’ words to heart, so they held their ground. Their voice was still even as they spoke.
“No one else is happy. Why should we be special?”
“Because we’re kids, Ro! 17 and 18! We’re not messiahs, we’re children. Your suffering can’t make up for everything wrong with this world! Pain isn’t virtue, Ronye, it’s just pain. And I am sick and tired of being in pain.”
They heard rustling and grabbed Allie’s wrist before she could go.
“Wait,” they stared imploringly at their partner, voice wavering for the first time. “Allie, don’t leave me alone. I can’t do this alone.”
“You’ll have to.” The absence of her hand felt like a burn, and they heard angry footsteps fade into the distance. Ronye saw a new color on the ground, its blurry mass catching the eyes that had tried to follow Allie as she stormed away. They reached out, running a hand over it. Goggles. Curiously, they put them on. The pink tint only made the world more blurry.

and walks out the door in ten minutes; just on time. It’s going to be a great day.

The sentence is quite long, it might flow better if you put a period where the semicolon is and potentially a comma where the period is. (…in ten minutes. Just on time, it’s going to be a great day.)

Rachel meets her brown eyes

I thought for a minute it was someone else’s brown eyes. You may want to put “her own brown eyes” just to clarify.

Getting out her five-subject notebook

In the previous sentence you use -ing and then you use it again in the beginning of this one. This makes the tense a bit confusing, you may want to do “she gets” instead.

Rachel’s heartbeat races at the impending intruder in the house

The use of impending here confuses me. The intruder is already there.

What is happening??

The way I’m saying this feels so mean but I can’t think of any other way to say it ;-;. The use of two question marks seems kind of childish, for lack of a better term. You might want to just use one.

“What.”

What is usually a question as opposed to a statement. You should probably use a question mark here.

Rachel splutters. “I have a chemistry test tomorrow!”

I’d switch the dialogue and the description around, as I think that flows better. (“I have a chemistry test tomorrow! Rachel sputters.)

This was really good! You have some lines in there that are just amazing (specifically the first sentence and “hums to the rhythm of the road.”) You managed to get the theme across beautifully and I can feel myself going along with Rachel throughout her day. I think the pacing works well. One piece of advice I have is that I may be helpful to actually read your story out loud to see how it flows. Overall, this was really good, I wish you luck!

the crown(and the many secrets it holds)


The crown.
Ah, the most marvelous thing. The crown of the royal family is well-known for being one of the most beautiful ones in most all of the kingdoms near ours, one studded with jewels and made out of only the most beautiful materials. But even the most wonderful things have pasts that are… not so wonderful, to say the least. And this crown is no exception. In fact, if you asked me, I’d say it was even more of an exception.
You see, this crown has secrets. Dark secrets. True, I suppose some might have heard of more horrific things in their lifetimes, but I presume that for many, this crown’s tales are truly some of the most terrible things they’ll hear. And these stories start with just one thing: its creation.
You see, the creation of the crown was not a normal one—it, in fact, was much darker than a normal one. The crown was originally ordered to be made by one of the kingdom’s first rulers, a king whose name has been lost in time. He wanted his kingdom to have the most marvelous crown one could ever lay eyes on, and while his plan did succeed, he took some drastic measures for it to do so.
His original idea for the crown was a medium-sized golden headpiece adorned with a few diamonds and with small golden leaves attached to it, in order to honor the farmer who had sold the royal family the land for the castle. However, the final result of the crown was most definitely different from this, and was instead something much more over the top. In fact, the final result was a large object made out of a marbled pattern of silver, gold, and bronze, with many different jewels studded into it—blood diamond, amethyst, pearl, orange topaz, white opal, pink garnet, color-change fluorite, emerald, moonstone, ametrine, serandite, tanzanite, and even witch's finger spirit quartz, a choice which surprised many members of the kingdom.
While it did include the original golden leaves planned, it also included golden flowers, berries, and other objects of nature. It’s considered so large and elegant that, in fact, no one, not even the monarchs, are allowed to wear it. There’s even a tale about one who did! Oh, but I should probably continue telling you about the first tale.
Soon after the order for the crown was made, something truly devastating happened: the queen died. Her death was recorded as a result of sickness, but there are some who believe there were more sinister reasons for her demise. Either way, her death caused a lot of distress for the king, and for good reasons, of course. And, eventually, this distress turned into anger. And this anger? Well, it turned into hunger for power.
And so, the king started to become ruthless. He started to kill, just so others could feel the pain that he had felt when the queen had died. It truly doesn't make sense to force others to feel such a terrible pain, especially when you yourself have felt it and know how bad it is, but the king did not care about this, for his mind was fogged with sadness and anger and, of course, the feeling that one always has when something such as this happens—revenge.
And so, when these emotions came to him, he wished for a bigger crown, one that could hold bigger power. And so the current crown was made, and it has remained the same for decades.
Now, no one knows exactly how the king’s reign came to an end, but I can tell you that no one was too disappointed about it, and they were all quite happy when the role of leader got passed on to his daughter, a much more peaceful character who ruled the kingdom quite happily, with very few complaints. Due to her peaceful rule, her reign doesn't involve any stories, aside from an occasional dispute between groups or individuals.
The next big story happened in the time of her successor—her daughter, Queen Rosemary, a ruler most known for her many interactions with other kingdoms and foreign travelers, as well for the many trading posts and markets she set up during her rule. Just like her mother, her reign was rather peaceful and not too horrific, unlike some other rulers that we will cover later, but there was one thing that is most definitely not a bedtime story suited for children: an incident involving two traveling tradesmen who got into an argument about a piece of jewelry.
You see, it's an unspoken rule of tradesmen that no two tradesmen can have the same item for sale at the same time, and these two broke that rule. They both had a blood diamond necklace in their inventory at the same time, made of the same materials and with the same design. And, of course, a fight broke out between the two.
Now, just a simple fight would have been easy enough for the queen to deal with, but one simple fight it was not. You see, people started taking sides. And with people doing this, it turned into a full-out fight. A fight with killing, attacking, poisoning. And while Queen Rosemary did eventually stop these events, the impact they had on the kingdom was massive, and, of course, they can never truly be forgotten.
Oh, it's now time for the next ruler: King David, who had the bloodiest reign of them all! Murders, kidnapping, most bad things—they happened under his rule, and they were considered normal. It's quite sickening to think about, really, but the king really did follow after his great-grandfather, or at least his great-grandfather’s later years as ruler. The most terrible story in his time is most likely a story of a war, a famine, and what happened after it. You see, a couple of years into his leadership, a war broke out with another kingdom, and at the time, that other kingdom was much more powerful.
While King David could have easily just chosen to surrender, to save what was left of his people and of his kingdom, he did not, which was a foolish mistake on his part. The kingdom fell apart, with other kingdoms taking advantage of their state and launching attacks and robberies. Many were killed, and many more starved. In the midst of it, the king was murdered, and it is suspected that it was in fact a citizen of the kingdom that killed him, in order to try to end the war.
They forgot about one thing, though—the king had no heirs. He had no children, and he was an only child, meaning there was no one who could take his spot and become the new ruler. And so, the kingdom burst into more chaos, with challenges for a new leader and fights over who would be a fit monarch and such. It was a terrifying part to be a member of the kingdom, and many moved away so they wouldn't have to deal with it.
In the end, a new queen, Queen Eliza, was found, and the kingdom moved back into a state of peace, but it took many years for this to happen. Queen Eliza’s rule, however, was quite short, for she wore the crown, the first to do so since the first king. You see, even when it was first made, the crown was heavy, and it would have hurt someone a bit even just to hold it. But now that such terrible things had happened in its presence, it had become… almost heavier, to say.
But Eliza didn't know this—even inside of the royal family, it wasn't spoken of much, and considering she was not blood-related to those who first started the kingdom, she definitely would not have known about this. And so, not too long after she got crowned, she made an announcement to the kingdom, a speech for all to hear. To this day, still no one knows what she meant to say, for she died before she could speak, and had told no one before.
You see, she had made the plan to wear the crown to her announcement, and when she put it on, right before she started talking, she collapsed to the floor. People started screaming, running away, thinking of reasons why something like this might have happened; was the queen cursed? Was the crown cursed? Were they all cursed? People automatically believed it was a curse that had brought them to this moment, but that's not true—in a way, it was the first queen’s death that did.
Luckily, she had a daughter, and that daughter was a queen who ruled with a short temper, but great ideas. Marie-Anne. Queen Marie-Anne did have a short famine in her time, though it only lasted for a year or two and only a small population of the kingdom died. This famine happened because of a plant-killing disease during winter, which later spiraled into spring, and then into even more time. It luckily came to a stop during its second summer, but it was quite traumatic for those who lost family members and friends during it.
But can I let you in on a little secret? Queen Marie-Anne was your grandmother. Quite shocking, I know, but I’m glad you’ve managed to receive this message. I apologize for not being able to meet you in person, but I assumed a note would be the second best way to contact you.
Now that you know that much, I have one more thing I need to tell you. On the darkest hour of the shortest day, meet at the part of the palace best known for its history. You will find out more then. Until that time, tread carefully, for we will soon answer the biggest question of all: are you fit to wear the weight of the crown’s past?


word count: 1664! ahhhh I can't believe it!

Thank Yous to everyone:

This year’s SWC has been amazing and an amazing way to round off the year! Although I didn't quite manage to commit to it

Thanks so much to: @-redredrobin-, @rocksalmon800, @Luna-Lovegood-LOL, @-NightGlow-, and @mossflower29 for being the hosts and organising this whole thing! I can imagine it would’ve taken a while.

The POLAR BEARS team, thank you so much for creating all those wonderful dailies and weeklies working with the hosts and leaders. There were incredibly entertaining. Weekly 4 was especially detailed and well thought out.

Thank you to all of my fellow poets in the Poetry Cabin, and of course @wolfiebear- for being my leader for this session! Everyone in SWC was super helpful and friendly. I found myself chatting to a few people over super relatable stuff.

Thank you all for ur support and effort into this month’s SWC, and special thanks to all who helped contribute from the Orginal founder @Candylanguagegirl (2017) to the ones still carrying it on today!
I hope I can meet u all again next session!

writing comp !! 1166 words oh how i love greek mythology

enjoyyyy


“Aquarius!” I turned at the sound, wondering which girl was pining over me this time. It was one of my more “dedicated” admirers, and by that I mean a stalker. I was surprised she didn’t just come directly to my house. I sighed, but put on my best “I’m hot and I know it” face.

“Well hello, Chrysanthe. What might you be doing out at this hour?” I gestured at the dark sky around us, well past midnight. I really didn’t want to be talking to her right now, but I needed to be somewhat civil. As she stood there and talked, infatuated with me, I zoned out, thinking of ways to politely dismiss her and promptly run away. You see, I was attractive. I hate talking about it, but that’s just the fact. And while ordinarily one would be excited at being one of the hottest men in all of Ancient Greece, I couldn’t help but hate it. I couldn’t leave my house at a normal hour unless I wanted to be swarmed by girls and the occasional boy hoping for a share of the love I had to give. It was a rather solitary life now that I thought about it.
“Isn’t that just so wrong? What do you think, Aquarius?” Oh dear. I hadn’t been listening at all. Curse my wandering mind. What did she say?
“Sorry, what was that?” I questioned, with a charming tilt of my head. Chrysanthe looked rather hurt.
“Oh…Nevermind. Have a good night, Aquarius,” she said curtly, turning and walking away. “Shoot,” I thought, “I’ve gotta stop doing that.”
“Chrysanthe! Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dismiss you,” I chased after her, filled with guilt at hurting her feelings. I was a terrible people pleaser, and no matter how much I didn’t want to talk to her, I had to make sure she felt better. She turned, and smile, albeit rather forced.
“Thanks, but I really should head home anyway. It’s late, and a girl shouldn’t wander around at night lest she want trouble.” She turned around again, and continued walking, a bit faster this time. I didn’t want to seem like a creepy guy, so I simply bade her goodnight, and wandered back to where I was before. I looked up at the stars, marveling at their beauty. It’d be cool to be a star, I would think. Just sitting there twinkling and not having to worry about stalkers and making people happy. After all, just gazing upon the sky brings people happiness doesn’t it? Oh to be seen rather than heard. The only reason anyone actually liked me was for my face anyway. As a matter of fact, my friends love reminding me that if it weren’t for my face I’d be a weirdo. As I stared into space (literally) I noticed an eagle in my peripheral. I turned my head, smiling at it.
“Well hello, little creature. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” I chuckled. What was I doing, talking to a bird. At least birds don’t care if you’re pretty. I could say anything I wanted to it. I didn’t need to say anything at all if I didn’t want to. It’s just a bird. I enjoy birds. Birds don’t want your hand in marriage. Birds just want seeds, good string, and a lovely supportive branch to raise their little mini birds.
I held out my arm, hoping it would perch on it. It did. I smiled even wider, as it stared into my eyes. I am no stranger to people staring into my eyes. I actually quite like my eyes. However, this would be the only time I lovingly stare back. I felt rather attached to the bird. This was unusual. I pride myself on getting attached to nothing, lest my feelings get hurt.
Suddenly, still attached to my arm, it flapped its wings and we soared into the air. I yelped, trying to fight it off in a way that wouldn’t hurt it or myself. I swung wildly in the air, the eagle’s talons death gripping my arm. I felt something wet underneath its claws. Was that my blood?
This isn’t usually how birds act, right? There was no way this eagle was a normal eagle, otherwise we wouldn't be soaring through the sky. We flew and flew for what felt like eternity. I stopped struggling. Gods forbid I fall on the rocky cliffs below us. We had travelled so far in such a short amount of time; I recognized nothing.
I decided I could either pry its talons off me and fall to my death, or I could continue with the eagle wherever we were going. Neither was looking like a great option for me. I lamented in my head. Funnily enough, it appears I did care about my face. I was far too pretty to die.
Suddenly, I noticed we were over an ocean. This was my chance to escape; if I dropped now, the water would save me. I was an exceptionally strong swimmer, after all. I wiggled and squirmed as much as I could underneath the eagle's grasp, and managed to free myself.
Time seemed to slow as I fell. I realized we were so high up the water wouldn’t do anything for me anyway. I’d die just the same. I decided that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I was gorgeous, but everyone dies someday. My time simply came a little earlier.
Suddenly, the eagle transformed into a man; a god? Zeus. Zeus kidnapped me. I saw the sorrow in his godly irises as I plummeted. Why wasn’t he saving me? He was a god wasn’t he? If he wanted me, he could have me. I was torn between wanting to die or wanting to be saved. Won’t the people back home be devastated? I wouldn’t want to do that to them. But then again, it was rather too late.
I hit the water with an almighty splash. It seemed only fitting the water would claim me. The seawater burned my nose and mouth as I tumbled wildly beneath the water. I was sore, so sore. I was shocked I hadn’t died on impact, but my lungs were on fire and my limbs had ceased to function.
As I sank helplessly, breathing in water by the gallons, the last thing I saw through my cloudy vision was Zeus waving a finger.Then, all was black.

Aquarius’s lifeless figure floated up out of the sea, the water cascading off him in shining droplets. He continued sailing up into the sky. His body dissipated into the stars, turning into a brand new constellation.
“I’m sorry, Aquarius. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I would have liked to get to know you; I would have liked to hold you-” Zeus sighed. “May this constellation be as beautiful as you were.” He stared at the newest addition to the sky with longing and grief. A small, single tear dribbled from his right eye.

The water of the cool, blue lake was nice. Relaxing, even. But I was here to rest.
We’ve always hunted in packs. And yet here I was, miles from anyone I knew. Miles from home. Away, out in the open. It wasn’t safe. But I was the happiest I had been in many, many years.
I was watching my reflection shift across the water when a small cat approached me. Its fur was dirty, filthy even, in a tangled mess. Covered in blood.
I stood up at once. Was danger nearby? Or was I simply stumbling across an injured being?
The cat hissed at me, backing up as I stood. I eased myself back to the ground and extended my hand towards the creature. Slowly it approached me.
But I had nothing to give it, nor anything with which to treat its wounds. I sat with the cat for a while, listening to her while my hand rested on her head.
It passed quickly, the poor thing. It was hard enough to survive out here without even more strange things attempting your demise. But hopefully it was at least in a better place, now.
Maybe I helped it a bit. Everyone should be given a peaceful moment at their death.

But I wish I could’ve helped more. A tear slipped my eye, followed by several more and then it might’ve as well been a flood. It was true that I could only cry from one eye, though it was unclear why.
I was left alone with my thoughts again. This time, I thought of my mother. The horrible things she had said to me, each day for so many long years. My father was not much better. Nor my sister, not even my brother had treated me with kindness for any longer than it pleased them at that moment.
I had no reason to return to their cruelty. “Leave, now! Don’t come back until you’re ready to apologize!” my mother had said.
So I supposed I would never return. Maybe they would feel bad once they realized I was not coming back— or when they heard of my death in the woods. It was hard to survive on your own, all the way out here.
This day was my worst. Nothing had gone right, I was alone and afraid, knowing I would be unable to survive such a place. Every choice I had ever made had been wrong. What could I do now, other than give up? Or just… die?

As I walked around, the woods growing darker, I came across a sight I didn’t expect to see. A dark hole in a large hill—a cave. What other chance did I have? Soon it would be dark, and when it was I would surely die from the monsters of the night. Most wouldn’t dare enter a strange cave. It was dangerous for me too of course, but what other choice did I have? Nothing else could protect me from the dark.
I entered the cave. It didn’t go very deep, but it rounded a small corner and made the whole cave a round L shape. In the back, I made my bed. Pine needles, leaves. Everything went in a little pile in the back of the cave, just for me to sleep on.
That’s when I noticed it.
A fire symbol was painted onto the wall, barely visible even once I had started a fire. But
I could make it out through the firelight.
It reminded me of a memory of my grandfather. He used to draw shapes like that, everywhere he went. One time, he had shown me how to draw on cave walls so I wouldn’t lose my way.
I wished he could’ve been there with me now.

The fire crackled for quite some time, keeping me warm for the duration of the night. I was on the verge of sleep, finally, after so many hours when a snapping sound startled me awake. I was instantly on my feet.
My heart racing in my chest, I had to make a decision fast. Should I leave the cave and run as fast as I could away from the noise? What if it was right outside the entrance, waiting for me to run?
Should I stay put? What if it was just the wind?
What if it wasn’t? What if it was a horrifying monster waiting to devour me? But what if it wasn’t? It could be nothing. Or something very bad. How could I know?
Aggravated, I stomped out my fire and scanned the walls for an inlet I could hide in. I folded myself into the corner, barely three inches wide, hoping it would be enough to protect me. My decision risked my life, and I had to hope it was enough.
Shaking, my breath heavy, I sat down in the inlet, clutching my arms to my chest in case
I had to run quickly. Slowly, I fell asleep, hoping and praying I hadn’t made the wrong choice.


I awoke in the same inlet I had fallen asleep in. Nothing had changed. The light from the rising sun allowed me to see a bit better since the cave was so short. With the light I was able to see more patterns across the walls of the cave that went unnoticed the night before from lack of light.
I ran my fingers over the writing. It was a series of strange symbols I couldn’t hope to read.
I sat on the ground in front of them, hoping something would click and I’d finally understand what they said.
No such moment came.
Annoyed, I picked up a stick from my “bed” and began to dig it through the dirt, making a series of patterns similar to the ones on the wall. I thought of everything my grandfather had taught me about deciphering codes and symbols.
Slowly, the message transformed itself. I was lost in the lines, and it may as well have taken thirteen seconds or thirteen months.
When all was said and done, the message was clear. “The Monster Comes at Night,” it read, all the symbols finally coming across clearly. I had done it. All the work in my life finally paid off.
I had deciphered the code.

I knew what the message said, so it was clear I had to leave. The monster had left me alone this time, but it would not again.
I fled before nightfall.
The woods were darker and scarier than they had been the night before, but I had to keep going. The monsters couldn’t get me out here.
Or so I thought. A purple mist filled the air, leaving me dizzy. As I plummeted to the ground, my face hitting the dirt, a loud speech bounded from above. I glanced up as a huge, pink bird flew over my head. It was mostly bone and it was missing its eyes. But I still felt its gaze piece into me.
I buried myself in the trees, covered in dirt and mud as I watched, horrified, as beasts of all kinds flew through the forest.
Some were red and pink, others every color I had ever seen and then some. It was a huge rainbow flying through the darkness, the stars barely visible between them.
It was such a shocking sight I could barely breathe as I saw creatures I couldn’t have possibly imagined—in neither my dreams nor my nightmares.
It was crazy. Truly, beautiful insanity. I had never seen anything so great.


The creatures silently sung me a song.

Beautiful creatures of the night,
Would you share with me your dreams of flight?
Take me on your back and through our dreams we weave,
Violet sky to violent bloodshed, tell me what I ought to be.
I wish you not misfortune but the fate you give to all
If you promise to not harm me, I’ll give you one last fall
Let me fly, free and away, from who they made me be
I don’t want to be a monster I just want to taste what they call free
I don’t want subtle secrets that force of me more lies
And I don’t want to encourage something that I wouldn’t try
I hope you feel my weight in full, the weight of all the stars
I hope you know your gift to me was an escape from all the scars
Now your voice is silent and I do not wish to speak
For you there is nothing that could replace what you bring, peace
You are made of colors I never could’ve dreamed
I wish this moment was eternal so I wouldn’t have to see tomorrow and know what the days bring
Farewell forever, friends.

And the song was over for good.


The witch enters.
Witch: Little girl, why are you so far from home?
Girl: I do not know what you want from me, but I assure you I cannot give it. I am just a humble travelling girl, and I do not require any assistance.
Witch: Oh, but are you quite sure, dear? I see you are very hungry. I have far too much food for a little old lady such as myself. You are welcome to some, should you like.
Girl: Are you a witch?
Witch: Yes, yes, child. I have been a witch longer than this forest has been here. I should very well like to tell you the stories of my life and the life of the woods, if you would like to listen.
Girl: Can you prove to me that you are a person to be trusted?
Witch: But of course! How else should I intend on having strangers visit my home? You may ask me any question you like, and I will ask one of you as well.
Girl: Very well. My question is this: how long has this tree been here?
Witch: That tree is very, very old, my dear. It has been there since the era of giants, when everything was much simpler.



“Thank you for inviting me into your home,” I said.
The witch nodded. “But of course, my child. However, there is still the matter of the question I wish to ask you.”
“Of course. What is it?”
“No, please. I must insist that you have something to eat first, child. You look hungry and tired from your travels. When you are finished, we will speak of your question. As you eat, allow me to tell you the history of these woods.”
The witch began her stories as I listened closely. She spoke of the trees, each one in great detail until finally, she was ready to ask her question.
I looked at her, waiting.
She smiled. “My child, I wish only to know why you are out in these woods alone. As I’m sure you know, they are very dangerous.”
I met her gaze with a grin. “Of course. You see, I am searching for one of the seven sisters. I think she must be out here, all this way…. But of course, there is no way to know for sure. Unless you know?”
The witch’s face became horrified. “How do you know of such a being?”
I licked the sharp canines in my mouth. “We always hunt in packs.”

Me and the witch fought, but she was stronger and faster than I. She held me, pinned to the ground under the weight of her large wings. I struggled to get up, struggled to breathe, nothing worked. She had me completely trapped under her.
“We can make a deal!” I shrieked from underneath her.
“Oh?” the sister asked, removing herself and sitting on the ground beside me. “What do you have to offer me, child? I am eons old and can have any possessions I so desire. What can you give me that no other cannot?”
“I will tell you my story.”
“I have heard countless stories,” the witch retorted.
I gave a soft smile. “But you have not heard this one. I will tell you it, and you will let me go. Can you agree to that?”
The sister thought for a long while. Finally, she agreed. “It’s a deal. I will trade your freedom in exchange for a story—but if it is not finished by the time my guest arrives, I suspect he will want you for himself. And his stories are truly great.”
“I assure you, this is a story you can only hear from me. How many stories has he told you that have been heard?


“When I was born, my family called me a blessing. They said I was a gift from the gods above, thanking them profusely for my birth. I was a miracle. Now I am a burden. Now they hate that they have been cursed with my presence.
“I am a dark stain above their wonderful lives. My sister is their miracle now, and my brother is their gift. They are all so disgustingly wonderful to each other, it makes me sick. How dare they throw me to the side once they had something better to look to.
“I refuse to play the part of the bad child for their poor choices in life. I will be more than they are capable of.
“It’s funny. We were so well off, so talented. You’d think we would be perfect. Not falling apart at the seams like we really were.
“My sister was never home. She was always away, and only I knew why. She found someone she wanted to be with forever, but my family could never approve of it. Not when she was with a woman.
“My brother smoked. Every day, nine to five, as if he were to be paid for it.
“They got rid of me to hide their secrets.”

The witch listened all the while I told my story. Finally, as it finished, she got to her feet.
“It is true, your story is great. But I’m afraid it is not enough to protect you in this world. It is over.”
“No, it is not.” I got to my feet, following her. “You have lived for eons, but the world goes ever on. Here is to another millenia—this one without your presence.”
I stabbed her through her wretched heart, ink pooling under her as she left this world. Even such a horrid, evil being, so corrupted by the centuries of terror she caused, could not return from this. My blade was concealed, and I had been given it to end my own life when I realized the woods were a place of such evil.
But I had won. I could return home a hero, praised by the family that cast me aside.
But I didn’t want that. Why would I accept praise from people who couldn't be pleased by my efforts and instead only my success?
At least I had killed someone. Society could be bettered, pushed forward, without such a dark stain hanging above their heads. I had done something right, finally.
I finally did some good. Right?

I returned to my home, praised for the empty hole in my heart. I had killed another person. A person who had done me no wrong—at least not until I attempted to take her life.
I couldn’t allow this to go on. People were praised for the lives they took instead of the lives they saved. It was a bittersweet taste of disgust.
Unsatisfied by my parents' newfound love for me, I returned to the woods. I gathered up my strength, the strength I had stolen, and found my love for the creatures of the woods buried deep inside my heart. They aided me in my quest.
Together, we returned the life to the sister.
She awoke instantly, sputtered as black ink dribbled down her chin. “What–”
I pulled her to her feet. “I owe you an apology, sister. It was wrong of me to choose personal gain over your life, and to foolishly believe what people told me about you. You are the last sister alive, and we vow to keep you as so for as long as we can.” I put one hand over my heart and extended the other towards her.
She took it. “I am glad you made the right choice, child. You are a hero.”

This session was amazing. Thank you all, so so so much, for making SWC amazing (as always)!

To Mystery (and obviously everyone in it): You all were infinitely amazing. I couldn’t have hoped for a better cabin (though I will still hope we get first muahahahahaha) this session. Though we didn’t get to complete our storyline, I had so much fun talking to each of you and making your extremely late profile pictures. Mystery was amazing, this was easily the best session of SWC I’ve participated in to date (sorry sci-fi </3) and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. MYSTERY FOR THE WIN!

To Mabel and Surf: you guys were amazing co leaders, thank you for making mystery great with me! I hope all is going well in your lives and your swc journeys continue wonderfully

To Myself (self-love!): you did so good bestie congrats on doing your word goal and then doing extra!?!?! Great job me! I did great! Also I did the fourth weekly sooooo just saying. Definitely my most successful session by far

To Luka: Next time you’re in charge of the chaos bestie studio thank you for all the wars and congrats on second place (for now….) you are very awesome and i am glad we are friends <3

To Chuey: Stop taking all the toes. They belong to me now.

To whoever started the fingernail thing–oh, Finley. Forgot your name because of how irrelevant fingernails are. Anyway, I escaped and I hope your factory burns <3 just kidding, i loved our chaos and I hope we have more in the next session but maybe pick something better than fingernails and also stop kidnapping me

To Bangsian: I only have three words for you: Mystery. Will. Win. Also, how dare you betray the siblingship (…first)! Congrats on having first for /most/ of the session but just remember that mystery always wins. So i guess thanks for keeping first place nice and warm for us but we win

To Luna: I saw you were going inactive and I wanted to wish you luck on your life <3 also, congratulations on dominating the TrackBear leaderboard and writing the most words in mystery. You did awesome!! Thank you for being part of mystery this amazing session <3

To Mouse: sorry we didnt get to talk as much this session </3 still, paranormal looks absolutely stunning and im so glad we are friends!!! great job <3

SWC is such an amazing community to be a part of, and I am glad to continue my journey with all of you each session <3 I hope to see all of you in march to mark my fifteenth session as a SWCer and hopefully leading another cabin! If you're entering the writing contest, best of luck! If you're planning to apply for leader in march, best of luck to you as well! This was a truly amazing session and everyone did so great. Thank you everyone, whether youre a co, a leader, a host, a camper, or you used to be. SWC is truly an amazing thing and I look forward to it all the time.