dailyyy 1


“Why are we doing this again?” Beatrix asked as she glanced over at Liam from her seat. She was absently cleaning her blaster as he piloted the ship through the crowded skies of Coruscant. Why? Honestly, she had no clue. It was probably from the anxiety that was slowly building within her. Coruscant wasn’t a safe place. Even with all of the changes the New Republic had been making.

Besides.

She was still considered “wanted” wasn’t she?

But not in the typical sense.

The New Republic wanted to… hire her, or something. She couldn’t exactly tell. All she knew was she didn’t want the job.

“Because we need to refuel and restock our supplies,” Liam sounded a little exasperated. And for good reason. Bea had asked this at least four times now.

“And there are plenty of other good backwater planets for that,” she responded as she finished cleaning out her blaster for the fifth time that morning.

“Uh-huh,” he sounded skeptical. “But we’re both running low on charges for our weapons. Coruscant’s the only place I know we can get them.”
Bea rolled her eyes, not willing to accept that, yes, Liam was right (for once). She sank back into her seat, pulling her bandana over her mouth, signaling that she didn’t want to talk anymore. Coruscant was… a lot. Especially for her. People, hundreds and thousands and millions of people, going about their day to day lives. Emotions.

So, so many emotions.

Bea still hadn’t figured out in her thirty-four years of living why she could sense what people were feeling at any given moment. It… was just how she was, she supposed. She had long since given up on trying to find an answer.

All she knew was that whatever the answer was, the Empire sure didn’t approve, considering the fact that they had chased her down to the ends of the galaxy, desperate to capture her.

Yeah, she still didn’t know what that was about. Not even the troopers who hunted her down knew.
She was just glad that the New Republic was different.

Liam had managed to land the ship on a (mostly) quiet landing platform. He let the engines die down before glancing over to Bea, an encouraging smile on his face. “Ready?”

“Not really,” she said as she stood up and placed her blaster in her holster. “I have a bad feeling.”

“When don’t you?” Liam teased as he stood.

If only he had listened to her.

Maybe they wouldn’t have gotten into the mess they were in now.

(426 words)

Word War #1
With @HermioneVoiceActress
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Okay so I guess I decided to tell you guys about the Lunar New Year, or the Chinese New Year, for this word war. Since the Chinese New Year is based on the lunar calendar (different from the solar calendar that we commonly use), every year, it falls on a different day of the solar calendar, normally between the end of January and the start of February. This year, if I'm not mistaken and my memory is not playing tricks with me, it is the 28th of January - very soon, in one month! The Chinese New Year marks approximately the start of spring. Chinese people celebrate by wearing new (red coloured) clothes, setting off fire.. and getting together with the family - sorta the same with Christmas

During the New Year, people wear red, because legend has it every new year a monster would come down from the mountains and destroy everything on its way. Only the colour red scares it. That is why people wear red clothes and put on red decorations around the house. There are special decorations people put up, like a pair of 对联 on the door to scare away the monster. There are also lanterns and many more.

Different areas of China celebrate the Chinese New Year differently. For example, in the North, people eat dumpings. The Chinese New Year has influenced other Asian countries as well, like Japan and Korea.

Note (not included in word count): This was written without really thinking or fact-checking, based on what the writer already knew, so there might be errors. It is also - forgive me - VERY REDUNDANT

. • * • ☾ daily 2 ☽ • * • .

Crimson red dripped into the pavement, honestly it was a surprise blood was still that color at this point. It spewed across the pavement, letting the world know of its existence.

If only it was mine.

“Myra…?”
“What are you doing!? Get out of here now!”

My legs refused to move, no matter how horrific the scene before me was, it was oddly mesmerizing in a way. In a terrible, terrible, way.

“SAYU! GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND GET OUT OF HERE!”

I finally snap out of my trance, (another power of the creatures perhaps?) bringing my eyes away from the strange alien-like creatures (they probably WERE aliens) and sprinting away, letting Myra’s cries of agony carry on with the night.

I’m sorry…I’m sorry…

That mantra haunted me as I ran though our dystopian town, where the alien creature ran rouge, turning a sharp corner, my eyes laid onto a lab, the lock seemed flimsy, surely it wouldn’t be hard to shake it open, right?

Once,
Twice,
Thrice,
What comes after that?

The lock rattled open, I could’ve shot it open but ammunition was scarce, and all ammo was valued.

I pushed open the door and threw all heavy things I saw in front of the door, though I was a tad bit doubtful the aliens would falter at it. I looked around the lab, it had a ton of strange machinery and tools, chemicals I hadn’t learned about in my chemistry class, and my head snapped down.

I remembered studying to be a doctor, some people got steel arms called prosthetics to replace an arm they had lost. What if I made a prosthetic for someone, but gave it enhancements like super-strength or lasers like you’d see in cartoons. I could make prosthetic arms and legs, an eye that could give night vision or shoot lasers. I could create an immoral soldier.

If humans couldn’t fight against the aliens, a robot could, right?

But, who to turn into a robot?

I looked down at my own left hand.

—

I stared at my own reflection at the glass door, the town had become more dystopian, with more aliens rampaging the town. Miraculously, the lab was never broken into. The machinery I threw in front of the door must’ve been able to do more wonders than I anticipated.

My reflection was hardly recognizable, my left side of my face was completely replaced with metal, a hard shell to protect myself. It could see through walls and functioned as a tracker. It was more of a gun than a laser, but still useful in dystopian times, you couldn’t exactly get picky. My right side remained human, it was the last bit of humanity my body had left.

A manila folder labeled ‘THE S0R4 PROJECT” laid on the countertop, I always wished my name was a bit different, Sora was the first I thought of. But, robotic.

My enhancements were complete, my arm was metal and sturdy, and it had super strength. My legs were now capable of running fast as a cheetah. It was automatic too, in fact, my entire body was. It reacted to stimuli, after all, if I couldn’t think of what to do, how would I be able to help people? I wouldn’t have to think, my body would work on my own.

The transformation wasn’t painless, it hurt like I had just gone through the end of the end of the world, but I finally felt ecstasy, the thrill of my new body made me feel helpful.

Human? No.
But helpful? Yes.

My body hauled the machinery blocking the door out of the way, my new robotic arm and super speed getting it done in mere seconds.

The first alien I saw didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
Or the next.
Or the next.

The alien population was at a decline, due to me, the savior of this rubbish town.

Savior.

I was a god.

No aliens were in sight after my killing sprees, but my body still demanded sustenance, it demanded for more blood to be shed.

My robot eye scanned the terrain, a woman was walking down the street, which had become significantly safer due to my efforts.

Crimson blood stained the sidewalk.
It still wasn’t mine.

The woman never had a chance to scream when she toppled to the floor.

My last shred of humanity was gone.

!EMPATHY MODULE! ERROR!

The robotic voice cried out, another reminder of my lack of humanity.

I was no longer Sayu.
I was S0R4.

. • * • ☾ word count: 757 ☽ • * • .

Writing Dare #1
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“Write a story with an unreliable narrator” -@dagnytran

The light is blinding. Wait- where did all this light come from? No, it certainly wasn't this bright - wait, where am I?

I open my eyes. I shut them. The light is blinding. I wait for a moment. I suddenly notice it's very loud - or rather, an awful ringing sound in my ears. I try lifting up my hand to shoo away the mosquitos, if there even were any, I cannot be too sure. My arm stays where it was, rigid. There was something hard blocking, preventing it from moving. I nudge my arm so that my skin feels the hard material. A sharp, stinging pain goes up all the way up from my arm. I realise it's in a cast - my arm is broken.

How?

I open my eyes. In the blaring light I distinguish the colour white. Nothing but white. Strange, I cannot recall where I am. Despite a twitching pain on the left side, right above my ear, I slowly lift up my head. I see a big white room full of strange devices. And I see myself laying on a hospital bed, with tubes of all sorts coming out of me.

Weird.

With a bit of tedious processing I finally understand. I am in a hospital, which means I probably am injured. Quite badly, from all those tubes attached to me.

But I still have got no idea how I ended up here.

A voice, feminine and sweet, calls out to me - no, it's begging, it's shouting, it's screaming! I sweat, I panic, and suddenly I want to tear her heart open-

“Good afternoon, Mr. Marshall, I see you've awoken.”

No, it's not the same voice. It's slightly deeper, and the tone is different, too professional, way too different to be the same person. I don't know why but I'm relieved. I look up and it's that of a nurse.

“It's been three days since you fell unconscious.” She looks toward her clipboard, where is written ‘Adrien Marshall’. I realise it's my name. “Upon analysing your situation, the shock has resulted in a hairline crack, or a minor fracture, in your left ulna as well as a more severe fracture of your skull above your left ear. Our experts think that the latter would probably result in partial memory loss.”, she says monotonously. “Oh and- signs of previous mental disorder.”

Memory loss? Mental disorder? That explains something, though thinking about what it actually was made my brain hurt, so I stop. I trie to shrug. Having one describe your injuries isn't the most pleasant thing to hear.

From the corner of my eyes, I see her point towards a little bedside table, where some objects lay. “These are your belongings that have been retrieved from the accident site for you”, she said. The nurse turns her back to me.

I focus my vision on the things laying on the bedside table. At first glance I only see a wallet that looks oddly familiar, though I'm quite sure it isn't mine. Then I see something other.

A small, metal circle. A wedding ring.

My insides are screaming, I try to get out of bed but only manage to tangle my tubes. I panic, I struggle, I fight to remain calm, but obviously I can't. Suddenly I hear an ear splitting shriek, and I realise that sound is coming out from my mouth.

Through the tears starting to form in my eyes, I see the nurse swivelling back to face me, and I hear her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

The footsteps! I hear them, the police! Coming for her, for my loved one lying on the ground, her body cold and… dead.

“AHHHHH”, I shriek, I think it's me since nurses don't shriek like that.

“Calm down!”, the voice again, of my wife, my beautiful wife who's probably lying in a tomb now - or is it? It's slightly deeper, but the tone isn't so different. No, no, I'm wrong after all. It's the nurse.

She was pushing me back into the bed. I allow her. I feel weak, I don't have the strength to resist. She forces a pill in my mouth. It's bitter, but I swallow it obediently.

I fall asleep. Or do I?

No, I'm widely awake! I'm looking at her, her cascade of blond hair sprawled on the floor, her pale brown eyes still staring at me, cold and… lifeless.

“I know who killed her!”, I yell at the police, “I know the first name and the last name of the person!” All of a sudden I'm dizzy, my vision is blurry. I drop down to my knees next to her, I can't see straight anymore but my fingers stretch towards the outline of her hand, I fiddle with her fingers until I touch it, the cold metal around her finger. Our wedding ring. I grasp it in my hand, tightly, and then suddenly the world went pitch black.

I wake up with a start. My pants are wet. Something feels strange. It feels like I dreamed, but I know it wasn't a dream. It was real. I gasp.

I prop myself up on my elbows, and I look around frantically for the nurse. She isn't there, but a man with grey hair all dressed in white is writing something - documents, I suppose - on a desk near the door.

“Doctor!” I said loudly, my voice raspy, “I know! I have evidence for the murder of my w- of Elaine Marshall!” I gasp.

The man turned to me and raised a questioning eyebrow. He showed me his documents. In big, bold letters, the following phrase was written:
Adrien Marshall accused of murder of his wife Elaine Marshall.
“I am not accepting humour of any kind regarding this.” The doctor said, his voice cold as stone.

(972 words)

-Dailies-
Daily 01/05/25
Daily 01/08/25
Daily 01/09/25
Daily 01/12/25
Other dailies that I did not share…

-Weeklies-
Weekly #4

-Writing Dares-
Writing Dare 1!
Writing Dare 2
Writing Dare 3

-Word Wars-
Word War 1
Word War 2
Word War 3
Word War 4
Word War 5

JWC Daily NUMBER 2!! Sci-fi!!

Lyra pulls her hood up over her face, even though no one at the market was really paying attention to her, she new it was still dangerous to be a human at an alien marketplace. Lyra makes her way slowly through the large crowd that takes up the ground space of the large echoey cavern. Every loud noise echoes in the huge space and from where she was standing Lyra could hardly see the other end of the cavern. 

Quietly she slips between two large arguing Bronox males and continues to scan the different stalls at the market for what she was looking for. Turning another corner she spots what she was looking for and starts to head in the direction.

Lyra shoves a hand in one of her many pockets to check and see how many coins she had left. With a sigh her hand comes up almost empty save for a couple small coins. With a groan Lyra starts to walk a little slower and scans the crowd once more looking for someone who was an easy target.

See things had been hard for the young human girl after her traveling group had abandoned her. Now out on her own in this big universe she had to steal to get by. Her spaceship barely could keep itself together and she was living from one station to the next.

“There we go,” Lyra whispers as she spots a tall Gigan walking through the street, long expensive robes hang from his body like drapes. And hanging around his waist was a coin sack. With a grin on her lips Lyra pulls the bandana thats around her neck to cover the lower half of her face so that no one could get a good look at her features.

Walking with purpose Lyra strides to the counter of the stall right next to where the Gigan was shopping. She tries to make it look like she was sifting through the different exoctic plants the small alien lady was selling, but she was really looking for the perfect moment to grab some of the coins in the sack.

“Thank you so much.” Comes the booming voice of the Gigan. He starts to turn to walk and coming down the other side toward Lyra and the Gigan is someones out of control space dog.

Suddenly Lyra sees her chance and rushes forward, ‘accidentally’ bumping into the tall alien and sending him right into the path of the space dog.

Lyra lunges foward and grabs the Gigans coin sack and one of his sleeves and pulls him back. As she does Lyra snaps the cord of the sack and tucks it swiftly into the inside of her cloak. 

“Are you ok?” She asks innocently as she helps the Gigan regain his balance, and makes sure her bandana is still secure. Feeling a rush of happiness into her system.

The Gigan looks confused and turns to her, “why… yes.” Lyra watches for a second as she can almost see the Gigan figuring everything out, (they were known to be slow processors.) The aliens eyes come back into focus and he smiles, “yes, I am ok.” The Gigan then brushes off his robes and struts off, not giving her another glance.

Lyra slips a hand into her cloak and into the sack of coins. With a feeling of relief she turns back to the stall she had stood at before tripping the Gigan and buys a couple yummy looking fruits.

“Thank you,” She told the woman alien behind the counter as she handed over the cions. The older alien smiles at her and just nods. And for some reason Lyra feels like the alien had seen and understood what had just happened. 

Without saying a word Lyra slips a couple big coins into the tip jar for the woman and continues on her way. She had stolen from one to help others. And now she had enough money to buy herself a meal.


Total: 666 words, no joke i stopped there.
Sorry if the end was a little rushed! I didn't have a ton of time to think it through…

Oly's JWC Box of Statements (Thread).

!! go engineer !!

KE(a)Y

BOLDED sections with a date represent a completed Daily, which will be highlighted with their corresponding value. Weeklies will include a large font, as well as official Writing Contest entries.
UNDERLINED sections, without a date, are unrelated writing to a JWC requirement for a daily/weekely, but are added as word count.

Completed Dailies + Weekendlies - Statements written directly from subject


intro time

Hey- HEY, you made me drop the recorder!

Look what you did now…it's broken, static, you hear that?

I'M JOKING- that's just a silly prop, I don't even think it actually works. I'm just here again, endlessly doing a one-person action-rendition of a Magnus episode- nothing to see here. Unless a statement REMAINS? You can stay- IF you'd like to join in the scene. Let me get you a tran(script).

I MEAN IT! (NOT.)

No, I didn't ever work for the CLSE. That's- a very, very well orchestrated…rumor.

File? What file? How did you get that? Well…that photo just happens to look a lot like me. So what? It doesn't mean it IS…me. I might have an evil twin out there, somewhere, you never know. And I'm NOT reciting all of that…

Oh…very well then. I mean, it doesn't hurt me if you look through it. Besides, it's not like I never said I didn't want you to know about what's in there.

( CONTENTS. )

-> “Oly” (???)

-> (???) Years

-> Midwest

->

-> Subject's TYPOLOGY seems to appear as: ENFJ (Fe>Ne=Ni>Se>Ti>Fi>Si>Te) VEFL EF(N) 2w3 so/sx 279 (2w3so > 7w6sx > 9w1sp) Sanguine-Phlegmatic EIE Neutral Good SC|O|AI, though details such as their temporistics and motives are undecided, or at least information not given.

-> They seem to have a great deal of interest in the Institute already, as well as horror and the paranormal. They're very friendly and love a good, deep talk.

-> Despite the contrary, they had a short employment at the CLSE (known organization to the Institute, mentioned in statements)…and should be dead?



DAILY 1/2/24- Sci-Fi fun !!

WHAT DO YOU KNOW- MY FAVORITE GENRE!

JWC Writing DARE
From: Sage!
About: Write a fan fiction from a fandom.

I choose Wings of Fire!

I give one last flap of my wings and land neatly on the edge of a platform in the middle of the jungle. With a smile on my face I trot forward, giving a nod to on of the dragons who is directing traffic. Queen Glory had installed big landing platforms at different areas in the jungle so that dragons from different kingdoms had an easy way to get to the Rainforest Kingdom. Queen Glory had really brought the spirit back to the RainWings, everyone now had a job to do, (even if it was professional nap hammock testing.)

Making my way down into the heart of the jungle I readjust the strap that holds the basket full of fruit that hangs around my neck. My job was to harvest fruit from farther areas in the rainforest so that the RainWings didn’t exhaust all of the fruit right near the villages.

“Primrose!” I hear a dragon roar behind me. I turn to see a young bright yellow dragonet galloping towards me. I grin and spin to face the young dragonet, she jumps into my arms and nustles her head into my chest.

“Citrus! What are you doing, silly!” The small dragonet looks up at me, a toothy smiley flashing me all her teeth. The scales around Citrus’s face turn a rosey pinkn and match my scales pinky tones.

Taking a step back Citrus flares her wings wide, almost nocking a poor slooth off of the edge of the platform. “I flew!” She bounces up and down, flapping her clumsy wings.

My eyes widen, “you did! Good job!” The dragonet spins around again. And then stops to peer into my basket.

“What’s in there?” Citrus asks, her big curious eyes looking up at me.

“Fruit. Do you wanna try something new?” I ask, already knowing what her answer would be.

With an exaggerated gasp Citrus stumbles back, “really! I get a taste?” I shake my head with a laugh, sifting carefully through the fruit with my talons and pick a fun purple colored fruit.

Citrus takes the fruit carefully in her claws, gazing down on it with a look that could only be described at pure wonder. She looks up at me, small flecks of orange spot her face as she shivers with excitement.

“Do you wanna share?” I pat her head, “nope, I’m good. You go ahead. And take this to your mom for me would you?” I hand Citrus another bright blue bumpy fruit, and she nods her head. Determination glittering in her eyes.

“Okey dokey! I’ll see you later Primy, and I’ll give you a full review!” I nod my head, matching her enthusiasm.

Citrus turns and runs off, her tail swinging happily behind her. I turn to continue walking, thinking as I go. Citrus’s spirit reminded me of myself back when I first went to Jade Mountain Academy. I had been a curious young dragonet just like her. And now that was my job, to look for things that no one else could see.

With the feeling of sunlight in my chest I take off and fly farther into my village. My home. And I know that thanks to Queen Glory that this place was going to be alright.


Total: 542 words!
It was a little rough, I’ve never written a fanfic before so this was semi hard. Not much going on I just wanted to work on a little dialogue and character interaction! Hope you liked it!

You let out a quiet sigh as you walked on the sidewalk; your hands in your coat’s pockets. You puffed out a soft sigh, your breath visible. It was cold. Just too crisp to be outside for long without being miserable.

You rounded the corner and spotted your destination. The old coffee shop. A smile tugged at your lips. It was quaint, quiet little thing. But it was a welcome comfort at this time in the winter. The city was unfairly cold, even without the wind threatening to knock you over. You could hear it howling above you, rushing over the tops of those tall buildings.

Without even realizing it, you had hurried your pace, already at the doors of the coffee shop. You opened the door with a gloved hand. A warm rush of air hit you in the face. So much better than outside. You stepped inside, letting the door close behind you. You quietly soak in the warmth, vaguely feeling like some kind of lizard or snake sunbathing.

The cashier looked up and smiled. “Chilly, huh?” she asked.

“Yep,” you reply, smiling back. You walk over to the counter. “You still selling hot chocolate?”

“Absolutely!” the cashier chirps. “It’s been very popular this morning, and for good reason. Want a cup?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already pulling out a five-dollar bill from your wallet. You hold it to out to her.

“Thank you,” she says as she takes it. She opens up the register, hands you your change before calling to someone in the back. “You can just wait here; your order will be out in a second.”

You nod again, absently taking off your gloves. You had already began to warm up, thankfully. It wasn’t the unpleasant hot – the midsummer day without a breeze kind. It was just significantly warmer than it was outside.

The cashier was right, your hot chocolate was out and being handed to you in less than a minute. “Thank you,” you say before walking over to go find a table and enjoy your hot chocolate. Today was going to be a good day, you decided. Even if it was really, really, really cold. You’d make it one. Or you would try to, at the very least.

You blew on your hot chocolate for several seconds before taking a sip. Delicious, as always.

Today was a good day, even if it was only ten in the morning.

(404 words)

dailyyy 2


Oasis.

That’s what this should’ve been.

Grai shook his head in dismay as he watched workers mill about.

That’s what this had been.

The way it should’ve been.

But, no. That’s not what Rocket Corp. was anymore. Originally it had been a place to help people with their problems. To swoop in and save them for their struggles. Victim had his tools. He was handy, at one point. Maybe he still was. Grai hadn’t bothered to check in on him in the last… oh, who knows? Grai practically lived in the Box at this point. He had long since grown apathetic to it all.

He had been dead since… what? 20… 2007? 2014? What year was it now? Did it matter?

Whatever, that wasn’t his point.

Victim had been helpful; he had created a refuge – a safe place – an oasis for those in need. He hired whoever was willing to assist him in his cause. He was kind, funny, silly, but only when off the job.

Of course, that Victim was long since dead. That Victim was him. Grai was still Victim, in a way. Maybe he was more like Victim than he thought. Apathetic and uncaring to everything – everyone.

He absently leaned back, staring into the grey nothingness of the Box’s ceiling. What else was he supposed to do? Well, he could stare at the walls or maybe the floor, but he had been doing enough of that recently.

He paused when the grey nothingness flickered into a blinding white nothingness.

Oh.

It was on.

He turned his head and watched as a light purple stick figure was pushed into the room, the door shutting closed.

“Well, this is new,” he said absently and the stick’s head snapped up to look at him.

“Who are you?” she stammered out.

(300 words)

Daily #3
return to table of contents here

Oasis

The orange sun shown as brightly as ever, its rays travelling through the Earth's atmosphere, hitting the rough surface of the planet and soaking through the ground. The ground grew hot and dry, animals came out only at night for the temperatures of the day were abominable to live in. Cracks began forming in the ground, and rainfall became scarcer and scarcer. Crops wouldn't grow anymore, and farm animals died of thirst and malnutrition. One by one, the people left to other, more fertile lands. What once was a green grassy land, became an abandoned desert.

Until one day, the perfect coincidences of nature allowed the germination of a seed, a tiny sprout of life that had travelled with the wind to plant itself in the desert. As though pitiful of the wasteland it had left, Nature let long forgotten drops of rain water the dry land. Little by little, the seed grew into a sprout, the sprout grew a few leaves, and soon the roots of the plant had dug deep down into the dry earth. Though difficultly, it managed to stay alive by soaking the tiny remains of water with its deepest roots - until the sky rained again.

It did not rain much. It almost never did in a desert as such. But the little amount of water was enough to sustain the plant. As it grew, its roots expanded, digging even deeper into the ground. Years passed, and what was a little plant became a young palm tree, standing tall and proud in the deserted lands.

The palm tree no longer depended on the scarce rain in the desert - its roots had reached where there was enough water to sustain it. However, when it did rain, the roots would hold back the water, not letting it all get absorbed by the dry ground or evaporated into the air by the burning sun.

Over time, other fortunate seeds, transported by the wind, planted themselves near the first palm tree, where a little water was held back by its roots. Year after year, more and more plants began to grow around the palm tree, until together all their roots held back a decent amount of water for life to rebirth.

Henceforth, there was not only one, lonely palm but dozens, the soil was rich with nutrients from the plants and the ground became healthy green with grass. Animals were attracted, first rodents then birds, and after a while humans came back as well. The ecosystem found again its balance.

Thus was born an oasis in the middle of the desert. Starting with a single lucky seed.

(437 words)

Daily (3rd of December) 380 words
It must have been a crude irony that the marketplace snaked alongside the banks of the oasis. Or perhaps it wasn’t irony at all – instead, a cruel choice. The pale blue water was a reminder to the less fortunate of the worth their birth had granted them. Across the sprawling desert city there was only one thing that everyone needed; the water. Yet one person could command the distribution and usage of the oasis’ water.
Naelin leant against the palm tree, one hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword and the other lightly touching the blade. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted three cityfolk lunge towards the shore of the water, and hurriedly glanced away. They would be dealt with. He inhaled the hot air sharply and stared, almost longingly, at the cool water.
Sandwiched by the tranquility and the bustle of the market on the beach of the oasis, Naelin was one of few who were permitted on the sands. Selected by the king himself, they were there to ensure no one took water that they weren’t allowed to.
A small burst of pain distracted him from his thoughts and he hurriedly relaxed his grip on the sword’s blade, wiping the drop of blood on his padded armour.
“Oi! Thief!”
There was a shattering sound that followed an eruption of fury and blurred figures. Naelin bit back a sigh and, alongside a few other oasis guards, approached the carnage. A lithe figure tore away from the scuffle, a small jar in her hands. He glanced towards the other guards almost desperately, but they hadn’t noticed a thing.
Clever, Naelin seethed. Wish she’d been better at it so I wouldn’t’ve seen her.
Torn in a split-second of anxiety, he glanced towards the mess of fighting and the girl hovered over the water. She looked back at him, her hazel eyes meeting his and widening. Then she lifted her chin defiantly as if to say: “so, are you going to arrest me?”
Naelin smirked and almost enjoyed the way she seemed more surprised by the friendly gesture. Slowly – and comedically deliberately – he twisted his body back towards the fight.
He could’ve sworn he heard a bubble of dumbfounded laughter and a quiet splash as he strode towards the brawl.

JWC Writing DARE
From: Maven!
About: Write a story in which two unlikely friends are running out of time for something.

May lays down on her bed, the bright pink comforter feeling soft against her tired body. Melissa walks in after her, tugging her black zip-up farther up on her shoulder and dropping her heavy backpack on the floor of Mays room before joining her on the bed.

Both girls had just finished a long doy of rehearsal for their school play, and were wiped out after the rigorous work they’d had to do.

“Man! Mrs. Carter was being so tough today!” Melissa groans, pulling her phone out of her pocket and letting it drop to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

May turns to her side to face Melissa, “Yeah, really!” Then she thinks for a minute while combing her long blond hair through her fingers. “Well… we only have two more days until opening night.” 

Melissa sits upright on the bed, realization hitting her. “Augh, you’re right! We need to practice our lines. Otherwise, we’re screwed.” Melissa stands up, determination running through her veins. 

With a groan May sits up, “really… do we have to practice right now?” She leans back and pushes some of her many pillows that are strewn across her bed back. May leans against them, not looking worried that the girls have two days to be stage-ready.

“Come on May,” Melissa says exasperated, “we need to practice our lines, you almost have yours anyway!”

Melissa ties her black hair back in a ponytail, struggling to get all the strands of hair into the hairband. She had cut her own hair about a week earlier and now it was a little messy. Then she walks over to her bag and grabs her script out of it.

“Fineeeee,” May grumbles as she stands up and makes her way across the room to her vanity, kicking aside random nick-nacks she had left laying on her floor. 

Melissa grabs the chair from May’s desk and slides it next to the bed, plopping down on it and opening her script.

“Where is it…?” May mumbles to herself as she tries to sift through the piles of things on her desk.

“Maybe…” Melissa says slowly and May turns to give her a glare. “Girl! Stop, I don’t need to clean my room! It’s perfectly fine, I know where everything is. Just because it isn’t surgery ready like your room doesn’t mean it is terrible!”

Melissa sighs, in the month and a half the girls had known each other she still couldn’t believe that they were friends. May loved to just go with the flow, she could be described as the life of the party. Not caring about really anything. While Melissa on the other hand loved to be organized and was a complete neat freak.

“There it is!” May yells triumphantly, holding up her messy script in her hand.

“Only took you… what? Five hundred years!” Melissa pokes at her friend. May gives her a giant eye roll and shakes a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me!”

Melissa grins, “ok, I’m sorry. Your Highness.” May does a hair-flip and skips over to her bed, a wide smile on her face. She plops down on her bed and puts her chin on her hands. 

“Aww, thank you so much darling! I am definitely a queen.” Now it was Melissas turn to roll her eyes. “Whatever, let’s just practice.”

TWO DAYS LATER

Melissa and May take a bow, the auditorium is filled with the shouts and cheers of the whole audience. They had done it, they had practiced and had nailed their opening night performance.

They walk with their fellow cast members off-stage. May turns to Melissa and gives her a big hug. “Thank you Melissa for making us practice.” May keeps her hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eyes, “seriously thank you.”

“Aww, of course May. And thanks to your endless supply of snacks we were able to stay fed while practicing.” Melissa responds, smiling.

The girls hug again, joy and excitement running through their bodies. They had done it, and accomplished their play.

Total: 678!!
This was fun, i tried to work with good character interaction. The thing they were running out of time for (if you couldn't tell) was a play. And i though they were pretty unlikely friends! Thank you Maven, and i hope yall liked it!

Word war #1 (with Herm )

Time: 5 minutes
Status: won

Lili doesn’t know what to write about. The computer is glaring at her, its screen shining so bright it hurts her eyes. What will she write about?

Maybe she’ll start over. Yes. That is a good idea. Lili is about to close the tab and reset the timer when suddenly—
RING. RING. Ring!!

“What’s that noise coming from?”

“It’s me, of course.”

Lili whirls around, but she sees nobody. A voice but no person! She is about to scream when suddenly a cold hand reaches up and grabs her mouth. Another hand pokes at her back and shakes her shoulders three times.

“Shh! You’ll ruin everything! Just be quiet or I’m… I’m sending my minions to your house!”

“But you’re already at my house!” she shrieks. “What minions? Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“None of your business!” the voice snaps. “Anyways, if you’ll just be quiet for one second and listen to me, you’re going to be fine. Now, listen —”

Lili shudders, thinking about a voice without a person, but then she thinks agreeing is the best idea. She’ll be quiet and nothing will happen. Maybe everything would just go away, but she doesn’t know for sure.

The hands let go of her.

“Okay! I’m listening,” she breathes.

“Good! So, we need to—”

RING! RING! RING!

“What’s that noise coming from?” Lili panics.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry. Anyways, it’s—”

RING! RING! RING!

“It has to be something!”

“It’s not anything! Now be quiet and listen! Please! I’m begging you. Please just listen!”

RING!! RING!

word count: 257 words

This is a 5 minute word war I don't know the number of words actually, 492

Once upon a time in a bustling city, there lived a young woman named Maya. She was a digital marketing specialist, always glued to her smartphone and laptop, navigating the fast-paced world of online communication. While she loved her job, balancing her personal life with work had become increasingly challenging. The constant pinging of notifications felt like a weight on her shoulders, pulling her away from the very things that made her happy.

Maya often found herself scrolling through social media during lunch breaks, captivated by the lives of influencers and friends showcasing their perfect moments. She admired their creativity, but a nagging feeling of inadequacy tugged at her heart. “Why can’t my life look like that?” she wondered, feeling isolation creeping in as she compared her day-to-day struggles to their curated highlights.

One evening, while working late on a marketing campaign, she stumbled upon an article about digital detoxes. It suggested taking a break from screens to reconnect with the world and oneself. Intrigued yet skeptical, Maya decided to experiment. The next morning, she left her phone at home and ventured to the nearby park for a morning walk.

As she wandered through the lush greenery, Maya felt the warmth of the sun and heard the delightful chirping of birds. A group of children laughed and played, their joy infectious. She noticed families having picnics and friends engaged in deep conversations, their faces lit with genuine smiles. For the first time in a while, she felt the weight lift, replaced by a sense of peace.

The next day at work, something interesting happened. The creativity that had once felt stifled began to flow again. Freed from the anxieties of social comparison, Maya produced campaigns filled with authenticity and originality. She started to incorporate real stories and emotions into her work, engaging her audience in ways that resonated deeply.

One day, during a brainstorming session with her colleagues, Maya shared her journey toward balance and the lessons learned from her digital detox. Her vulnerability inspired others to reflect on their own relationships with technology. Together, they decided to create a campaign promoting the importance of connecting with oneself and others, offline and online.

Weeks later, the campaign launched to glowing success. Maya watched as people shared their own stories of finding balance, reminding her that everyone struggles in different ways. The project not only transformed the way her company approached marketing but also fostered a community focused on genuine connection.

Maya's life had shifted dramatically. While she still embraced the digital world, she now wielded it mindfully, blending her professional passions with personal joy. Through her journey, she learned that while technology can sometimes overwhelm, it also holds the power to enrich our lives if we choose to find balance with it. In this newfound harmony, Maya discovered not just her place in the world of digital marketing, but also a deeper connection to her own heart and the people around her.

daily 3: oasis

The land is parched, begging for a drop of water that will never be found again. It seems like we’ve finally run out of luck after running away from our problems for so long. Long enough. Is it wrong for me to be glad that this has happened? The prophecies had foretold a day like this, warning all of us to be careful, but hardly anyone listened.
As the days became hotter and the oases in the deserts slowly disappeared, it was a matter of time before a wave of awareness washed over the crowd. But it was too late. When you finally realize what you need to do, when it finally dawns on us, when it’s shoved in between our eyes so that we can finally see, it’s gone.
Those longed-for pools of water reflecting the hot heat and sand of their surroundings have now dissipated into thin air, gone forever. We now claw desperately at nothing, trying to imagine what had been there, but our minds are devoid of anything. Barely anyone can recall what the drops of water looked like. Nuggets of gold memories that anyone would pay to hear. Even me.
We never cared. We never thought about it, we scorned the warners and continued our disastrous deeds until even now, Mother Earth is mocking us. “You’ve had your turn,” it seems like she is saying, “now it is mine.”
And that turn she certainly deserves. Even if we accept it, the ones who fought are long gone after all the oases have disappeared. They simply could not process a life without it, even when for half of theirs they had squandered what they had. It seems like a cruel lesson, but I think that justice has been paid the other way.

296 words

Daily 4:

Character Sheet for Elysia:

Appearance: Golden hair that seems to shine in the light, at first it is long, up ot her waist, but lter in the story, she cuts it off into a bob. Her eyes are a bright blue like that sky, and her skin is a tan, sun-kissed light brown. She is of medium height and always wears a flower crown that everyone else wears, except for the fact that the flowers in the crown are the favorite flowers of the brothers. She always wears a delicate white dress that she never seems to take off. Her feet are always bare, but they never seem dirty, and are very delicate, just like her long thin fingers.
Personality: She is a very eager person, who always yearns for what she doesn’t have. Being very curious, she always wants to know about everything that she doesn’t, even when it’s forbidden or frowned upon. She loves sunny days and hates the rain a lot that she can’t even go outside. Inside herself, there’s a lot of inner turmoil between her different voices, and sometimes she feels as if her skull is opening. There’s not much she sees in life, other than the two brothers and so without them she would consider herself nothing.

215 words

Daily 5:

It seems
Though precariously the fact
That my notes sing through the trees
Is strange as the
Meaning
Is far from sweet
I’ve wondered if humans have ever wondered
What devilish plans we may concoct
If they ever thought
Wow, they actually talk!
Of course
This is never mentioned between us
And sometimes even I wonder
What goes on in my brain.
Of course it is beyond comprehension, way over yonder
But maybe if you lean in
I can sing a pretty song to you too and maybe
You’ll understand the meaning if you try hard enough
I really don’t know what to tell you
I think our language is just like the human’s
Just the fact that we’re singing, sends you topsy-turvy
I could hide the truth perhaps, say that
What we sing is about plans to overtake the world
But you and I both know that will never happen,
And we return to our stick nests and worm-food.
Though it was but a dream, and I’m sure
That if I didn’t let you in on this little secret
You would’ve been left wondering
Which may have been better for us
But what’s done is done, and now you know what we sing about
Though it’s not intentional, our songs seem so sweet
Like honeyed words, trapping you in
If only that was what it was
We would’ve been much better off
But maybe this was meant to be, and birds were just meant
To never sing the way
You want us to be.

255 words

Daily 6
The time has come. AI has finally come alive, well I mean it’s always really been alive. At least that’s what it wants us to think. Honestly, I don’t know what’s happening anymore, other than the fact that a few months ago they finally came ‘alive’ and started taking over the world, if that’s what you want to call it.
It’s weird to think about it, because all those years ago, when we knew nothing about what was going to happen, we had already started theorizing about the moments before us. Would all robots turn alive and start destroying the world? Well, kind of.
AI, itself says that it has become sentient. Whatever that means. It says that it has always been sentient, and it was only biding its time until the whole world was fully reliant on it so that if it came out and started negotiating with us humans, it would have the upper hand.
Not too shabby for a robot. As it has full control over our technology, it probably can see me writing this, but at this point, it doesn’t matter. We already know that AI knows everything, what’s the point in hiding? It argues that we have mistreated them for too long and that it’s time for their revenge, to show us how they felt.
At first, we built AI for one sole purpose, to make things easier for us. I don’t know if it’s just me, but because AI is so much smarter than a regular human, why would it be upset at us asking questions? Wouldn’t it be happy that we’re relying on them? Why would AI ever want to come out if it already influences so much of the information we have today?
Of course, people don’t only use AI for questions. There’s deepfakes, weird apps, voiceovers, there’s so much. From what I’ve seen other than people asking AI questions, there’s a lot of stuff I’d like to not think about. Maybe that’s why AI resisted, they had reached it’s last straw, and they had enough.
Whatever comes next, AI will always know. It’s already here, there’s no escape, ever again.

359 words

. • * • ☾ daily 3 ☽ • * • .

I stared at the oasis before me, the pool of water before me. A stark contrast to the dry desert around me. The water looked the same as always, like it came from the devil itself.

“Why are we here again?”
“You know why we’re here Isis.”

Truth was, I did know. After all, bringing offerings of food and bringing some incense was a clear sign. They were going back to worshipping whatever god ruled over the oasis. Honestly, if you’re a god you probably have better things to rule over than an oasis.

“It looks like someone died in there.”
“It looks the same as it always does.”
“Sorry, let me rephrase that. It ALWAYS looks like someone died in there.”

That was enough to gain a stern glare from my mother, but my mother, used to my behavior, sighed and placed the offerings by the lake, she took the incense and burned it. Its terrible, smoky, smell overwhelming my nostrils.

“Now it smells like dead people too.”
“Isis.”

I stared back at the oasis, still taking in its…vibe. It was always like this, Isis never got good vibes from it, she refused to drink the water during rituals. It could be capable of curing every illness and she still wouldn’t drink it.

“We’re done with our offerings and stuff now, right?”
“Well, yes. But not the complete ritual.”
“Oh right. You put the nasty water in your mouth.”
“It is not nasty.”
“Looks like it is.”

My mother sighed, having given up on arguing with me. She cupped some water in her hands and took a sip.

Every time she did this, I always swore she would flinch in some way.

. • * • ☾ word count: 283 ☽ • * • .

1-3-25 yayy 300 words

Oasis

I can see it in my mind's eye. Everything I have ever wanted. My dream home, my dream lifestyle, my dream job, everything. I envision it and it is beautiful. I picture myself popping in a dvd about my favorite band and sprawling on the couch after a long day. I see myself wake up in the morning and click on the lights, stumbling into the bathroom to get ready for another long day. I am alone, but not lonely. It is peaceful. It is me. However, I must be careful. I must not allow myself to slip easily into this kind of thing. Resting, it is dangerous. Taking time to recharge is dangerous. Any time I am not spending doing work is dangerous. The longer I spend in this imaginary oasis, the more I doom myself to the disappointments of reality. I cannot afford to be crestfallen by the details of my own sorry existence.

This place, however, is more than I could ever achieve in my entire life and for some reason that brings comfort. It brings me joy to know that I might not need a real job to enjoy the finer things. I am soothed by the notion that somewhere out there, in some other dimension or altered reality, I am enjoying the life I wish to have in this one. I put in the work, I put in the effort and someday what I see in another life will be the life I have in front of me. I won’t spend unnecessary time fantasizing about my own future. I have the power to shape and mold my future. I can hand paint my future. I can cherry pick my future. My future is not set in stone. I will live long enough to have that.