Twin Stars

“Like constellations, a million years away…”

I stared up at the stars that once felt so close and now seem so far, that once were warm and shining and are now cold and harsh, that once were smiling and now look down with unforgiving faces. The earthly counsel joined the stars in their judgement, gathering around and looking down upon us just as their celestial counterparts do.

“every good intention, every good intention”

Castor was the first to speak, explaining and pleading and bargaining just like always. He always believed the best. He always thought having good intentions would be enough. But what even are “good intentions” I wondered, What is “good”? I mused.

“is interpolation, the line we drew in the array”

Of course they don’t agree with him. Faces still and unchanging as the stars that circle through our skies. He searches their faces, their eyes, looking for an ally, looking for the friends he always believed he would find. But there is only one friend for him here, and that friend is beside him, not above.

“clinging to the faces, clinging to the shapes in the silence”

I reach out my hand, our little fingers entwining as they have since our time immemorial. Sending a silent message: With you always. Finally, he is finished. Stony faces turn to me, but I have nothing to say to them that has not already been said. Our intentions will not sway them from the path they follow any more than an astronomer’s desire will turn the stars from their course.

“Like constellations imploding in the night”

One by one, they raise their hands against us, a judgement as silent as the stars. The only sound is a sob, his sob. Expected, but not wanted. I turn my hand to fully intertwine our fingers. This is where it ends. He hesitates for a moment, and then he tightens his grip. Another silent message: I’m ready now. And that is all that I needed.

“Everything is turning, everything is turning”

Twins reunited, once more we soar. They no longer look down on us, but up, and the faces finally change as they see us silhouetted by stars. Stony cold judgement melting into disbelieving wonder. And as we climb, stars change from judges to comrades, and they welcome us.

“The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light”

As the earth shrinks below, I begin to wonder how it ever seemed so important. How the ones we left behind ever felt so large. In the light of the stars, everything changes. Now all that matters is him, us. Together. Never to be separated again.

“And everything you thought you knew”

This was not how we thought things would go, was it? But then again… what were our plans? They seem silly now, here in the heavens. Was it worth it? Perhaps, perhaps not. Does it matter now? I don’t know. Then he smiles at me, and in that moment he is brighter than any other star.

“Will fall apart, but you'll be alright”

Whatever was, whatever used to be… there is nowhere I would rather be, but here, together. Even if everything used to be falling apart, now we fly. And I know that now we will be alright.

Constellation: Gemini (The Twins); Inspiration and lyrics from the song “Constellations” by the Oh Hellos

Weekly 1: Worldbuilding!
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Part 1: 800 words

Through the years this continent has become home to seven main races: The Folk - which encompasses Goblins and Trolls, Dwarves, Elves, Humans, Halflings, and Familiars. Each has developed their own culture.

Language:
The main language used in this day and age has many names, but universally is simply referred to as Common. It is comparable to our world’s English and uses the Latin alphabet. Most humans, halflings, and Familiars learn this as their first language and use it throughout their lives, although there is some popularity to learn other languages for enrichment or spellcasting. The Folk, Dwarves, and Elves each have a mother tongue. The elves in the motherland would not think to use anything but High Elvish, but here it is mainly used in Elvish spellcasting, secluded Elvish settlements, or among the higher class members of Elvish society. Many Elves have swapped to using Common as their language of choice. Elvish uses its own set of runes. Dwarves are usually bilingual, with those living in mixed areas more fluent in Common and those in the Dwarvish cities more fluent in Dwarvish. It is also used for Dwarvish spellcasting and in the Dwarvish homeland. Dwarvish uses its own Runes, but they are similar to those of the Elves, as both come from the same ancient dead language. The Folk are generally raised on the True Tongue, or Folkish, and learn Common if only if they deem it necessary for their lives. Folkish Runes are rare and difficult to translate.

Culture:
Through the use of language, it can be seen how these races interact with one another. Although sharing a continent and peaceful relations, there are still separations between each group. The Elves have a motherland with very little contact with the other races, and some of that stigma carried over. Here, the main elvish population has either integrated into the main mixed cities or live in secluded settlements. In addition, there are some Elvish schools and research centres spread across the land. The Dwarves have dominion under the earth, with extensive tunnelling and many underground cities. Some Dwarves do choose a life above ground, often as blacksmiths or in architectural positions, but for the most part they remain in their natural habitat - the earth. The Folk live throughout the continent, as it is their homeland, but are most concentrated in the mountains of the north, where they are both welcoming and wary of outsiders. Halflings are mainly concentrated in certain valleys, due to their diminutive size and peaceful nature. Humans go wherever they like, but are concentrated in the main cities or small villages. Mixed Halfling-Human settlements are common between Halfling areas and Human towns. Familiars are spread few and far-between, and if they have established cities they’re the only ones who know about them.

The Folk tend to be matriarchal, but any member of the family or community can prove their worth and hold a position of power. The Dwarves have an extremely Matriarchal society, deferring to the eldest woman. Elves pride themselves on being Egalitarian. Humans have experienced pushes towards egalitarian systems, but still experience heavy elements of Patriarchy. Halflings don’t seem to lean in any direction, with each community or family or even generation deciding for themselves who to respect. There is no available information on Familiars in regards to this topic.

Appearance:
Elves value long hair, seeing it as a sign of age, experience, and maturity. However, they also prioritize being completely clean-shaven apart from hair, seeing it as being respectable. Many low-elves who have integrated into the cities choose to model their hair in more unique ways. Dwarves are opposed to elves, with almost no thought to the length of hair except in their respect for those with full, thick beards (even women!). Metal hair ornaments and braided styles are very popular among dwarves, both in the dwarvish cities and out. The Folk have a variety of hair-related traditions based on area, but are more likely to have shaved or shorter styles and often have small braids with connections to important people, places, or events in their life. While human hair does hold meaning to some, there is no overarching evidence of hair tradition. Halflings never grow facial hair, and usually keep their hair cut short.

Elven piercings are generally limited to their ears, but a majority of elves, especially those in all but the most recent generations, have none. Dwarves have a love for ornamentation, often having many piercings along with their metal hair accessories. The Folk regard piercings differently based on area, but as a whole are open to them. Halflings usually have no piercings, even their ears. Humans and Familiars have the widest variety, with some following dwarven traditions, others having none, and still others experimenting with their own types of piercing.


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Part 2: (4 collages, 200 words)

For this part, I mainly focused on some of the environments of The Continent.



This is the North, a land of mountains, forests, lakes, rivers, and meadows, mainly inhabited by The Folk. It is an enchanted, mysterious, and mystical region.




This is the coast, an area of rocky cliffs, odd little islands, quiet coves, and beautiful beaches. There are quite a few human-dominated port towns along the coast that have become trading hubs for all the Peoples.




These are the caves, a place dominated by the Dwarves. Without a Dwarven guide, it is incredibly easy to be lots in the tunnels and caves and never be seen from again. Many riches, both natural and Dwarf-made can be found here in these caverns, including the great Dwarven cities.




In this beautiful, enchanted continent there are many places that seem to defy what should be - from floating mountains, to stones like a staircase for giants leading down to the sea, to terrace-like pools, to strange rock formations, to waterfalls and geysers. Magic lives in the very core of the land, and it can be found everywhere if you know the right places to look.


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Part 3: (1105 words)

I moved closer, trying to see what had such a large crowd forming.
“Gather ‘round, gather ‘round!” The man with the bright white teeth and magnificent tophat exclaimed. Although his ears were hidden, he looked to be a human, from his earthy skin tone to his height to his mustachioed but otherwise clean-shaven face. “Yes, welcome newcomers, step right up and take your first look at this glorious invention.”
“Come on, it’s just another vendor,” she complained, but C had followed me and was frowning at whatever she was tall enough to see. Gigi tugged on TB’s sleeve, and she lifted her up to sit on her shoulders, upturned eyebrows matching C’s. I ducked under a man’s arm, weaving through the still-growing crowd until I could see what it is the vendor was flaunting. Then one of his words cut through the noise of the market.
“…Familiars. With this, you’ll never need those old-fashioned claiming methods again-”
One more shove, and I found myself at the front of the crowd. A girl who looked younger than me, clearly a fellow Familiar by her elegant wings and uniquely curved legs, stood trembling beside the mustachioed man on the small platform. I forced myself to focus back on his words once more.
“Allow me to demonstrate,” he announced, procuring a metal object from a box. He deftly snapped it around the girl’s neck. She flinched slightly, but stayed unmoving. A chain of symbols appeared in the metal. The crowd murmured. This is wrong.
“It’s as simple as that! No protests, no difficulty, and no damage to the goods!”
My hand instinctively went to my arm, fingers tracing the circles of raised skin.
“And best of all, no innate magic required - simply purchase one, and it’ll come ready-to-install. But wait, you may ask: if it’s so easy to put on, how can I guarantee it will not be removed?”
The crowd once again murmured, seemingly in agreement. The salesman grinned.
“Well, go ahead, give it a try. I dare any caster in the crowd to come up here and remove my work. Yes, any of you, come along!”
A large man holding a staff stepped up, stretching out a hand towards her. She shrank backwards, but a subtle prod in the back from the salesman and she froze stalk-straight again. The new man spoke a few words that sounded almost like jumbled dwarvish - a different dialect? But it had no effect. The salesman smiled smugly at the crowd.
“Want to guarantee your product’s safety, while keeping your integrity? This product is for you,” he announced.
“This is wrong,” the sudden voice in my ear made me jump. I turned to see her, nodding in agreement before fully thinking it through. That’s when he decided to take matters into his own hands.
“Let me have a try at that,” he said, stepping onto the stage.
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary-” the salesman began, but he persisted.
“If your product is as great as it sounds, it deserves for it’s true mettle to be shown.”
“No, really, I think we’re done here–”
“Or are you just afraid?”
“Sir, if you’re harassing me I’ll have to ask you to step away. From me and the merchandise.”
“She isn’t merchandise, you boar!” She yelled at the stage. The crowd turned to look at us, and I shrank down into myself as I felt the eyes land on me. The salesman’s eyes darted back and forth, realizing he had become outnumbered.
“Alright, alright, another demonstration then!” He conceded. He began chanting in dwarvish, as I’d heard him do many times. The salesman’s face grew redder and redder, clearly strained, until finally there was a resounding SNAP and the collar broke in half. The girl gasped and fell to her knees on the stage. The crowd roared in protest and surged forwards as Mr. Mustachio turned and hightailed it down the ally.
“We have to help her!” I finally found my voice, but no one was there to hear it. So I pushed through alone, getting to the stage and reaching a hand out to her.
“I want to help,” I said. She hesitated, then let me pull her out of the stampede to stand beside the tavern. She wrapped herself in her wings. “I’m blank, what’s your name?”
“Blaith,” she whispered.
“Do you have someone to go to?” I asked. She shook her head.
“I don’t want to go back to him.”
In that moment, I made up my mind.
“I’ll protect you then. Our kind has to stick together.”
I tried to read the emotions on her face - surprised, grateful, worried? They flashed by quickly. Suddenly, they rushed over, clearly distressed at the chaotic turn of events. Eventually, everyone had assembled.
“Did you have to cause a scene?” He asked, flustered.
“That man was a fraud,” He replied simply.
“Gave me a good haul,” He commented. He gave him a look, but he just shrugged.
“Oh, it’s her,” She noticed.
“She’s coming with us,” I should’ve said, but the words lodged in my throat. “Her name is Blaith,” I could’ve said, but just as always my voice failed me.
“I think that salesman is long gone… what’s the protocol here?” she asked.
“She’s not going back,” I finally said. Everyone turned to me and I looked down at my feet. “She’s not. I promised.”
They all fell silent. Then the adults stepped away. Of course they don’t think they can discuss this with us. Typical. Gigi stepped up to Blaith with a grin.
“Hi! I’m Gigi!”
“Blaith,” she whispered.
“That’s a pretty name!” Gigi replied, getting a soft smile from Blaith. “I love your wings!”
She petted down the feathers of her right one with both hands, picking at loose feathers.
“Will they let me stay?” she asked tentatively.
“I don’t know…” I said, because it seemed better than lying.
“They let me stay! And him! I don’t see why they wouldn’t keep you. And promises are important.”
I smiled at Gigi. She’s certainly better at this than I am. Blaith stared at them solemnly. Then she reached out a hand, palm up and forearm exposed. Only two brands. Either a lot younger than me, or luckier. Or not, I supposed. I understood what she was asking, and held out both arms. She cocked her head, counting. Gigi stared at us in confusion, obviously not understanding this silent exchange. Of course she wouldn’t. It’s not something she would ever know. It’s not something anyone should ever know. Blaith nodded and I dropped my arms back to my sides. She smiled gently.


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Part 4: (810 words)

“Just a moment,” he said as he finished bandaging the wing of his current patient. When no reply came, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Oh,” he said softly as he took in the tear-stained face and awkwardly bent arm. Then he cleared his throat. “Alright, you should be all good. Try to be gentle with it, and come back in a few days so I can check the bandages, or if you need a painkiller.”
“Thanks, ‘doc’,” the patient replied, before squaring her shoulders and heading out. The doctor sighed, then turned and crouched down to be eye-level with the little boy.
“Back so soon?” he asked with a smile. The boy simply looked away. Humor was not the way to go with this one. “Alright, up you come.”
The boy hopped onto a crate and then up to sit on the edge of the table.
“Just the arm?” the doctor asked, and he nodded in reply.
“Hmmm…” silence fell as the doctor took stock of the damage.
“Tell me the story?” he said tentatively. The doctor laughed softly, but his eyes were sad.
“Of course,” he said, and as he tended the broken arm, he started his tale.
“Listen: Long ago, when our world was still young - or at least much younger than it is now - it was a very different place. We didn’t all live together here, in The Continent.”
“We didn’t?” the boy asked, although of course he knew the answer.
“No, we didn’t. This place is the home of the Folk - the Trolls and Goblins - and they used to live all across it, not mostly in the north as they do now. It was a wondrous place then, when magic was much more widespread and flowed more freely. There were truly enchanted forests, floating mountains, and many other wonders.”
The boy was enraptured in the story, staring at the wall as pictures danced before his eyes, and completely unaware of the doctor’s actions.
“The Dwarves were the first to come. They met the Folk and struck a bargain - the dwarves were free to expand under the earth, as long as they could respect the land. Their magic flourished, and they brought many innovations, and the two peoples prospered together.”
The boy winced as the doctor handled his arm.
“After them came the Elves. But the Elves did not strike a deal with the Folk, and they did not choose to respect the land. They believed themselves the best, and this led to a brutal conflict between the Folk and the Elves. Finally, a compromise was reached, reflected in the very magic of those here. The Elves could remain, but they were banned from the north, and their magic was but a shadow of what it is in their Mother Land.”
The doctor paused for a moment. He had to set the break.
“Then came the Humans and the Halflings,” he continued. “The Humans, though chaotic, had no magic of their own, and the Folk were content to remain in the North and leave these newcomers be. The Halflings went completely unnoticed, as they still do.”
“Which leads us, to us.” The doctor said, pausing as he set the arm, but the boy barely made a sound.
“The Familiars,” the boy whispered.
“The Familiars,” the doctor agreed. “After years of intermingling, a great magical disaster shook our world. This led to the creation of a new group - originally a mixture of all the Races, they took on animal characteristics and a contract to serve. They became the first Familiars. Our ancestors.”
“But what was the disaster?” The boy asked as the doctor fussed with his sling.
“Hmm?”
“What was the disaster that led to them cursing us?”
“Look at me,” the doctor said sharply. The boy flinched and he softened his tone. “We are not cursed. We are simply special. You are special.”
“Everyone else says that we are.”
“Just because we have to serve does not make us less. It took me a long time to see that. But listen: you are just as important as anyone else.”
“Okay,” the boy replied, but the doctor could tell he wasn’t convinced.
“How about this: I’ll teach you to be a Storyteller like me.”
“Would you?” The boy’s eyes lit up. The doctor’s gaze fell on the sling.
“…Yes.”
“Thank you,” the boy whispered. “I… I should go.”
He hopped off the table and left the tent. The doctor stared after him.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered to the emptiness. “I wish I could protect you from what you’ve been born into. I wish this world were better. But perhaps… perhaps I can be a friend. And then you’ll turn out alright. Yes, I can do that.”
His fingers traced the raised circles on his forearm, the one he and the boy shared.
“I’ll try not to go anywhere.”

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Part 1: 350 words of description about your world's language and culture (800 words)
Part 2: At least 3 aesthetic boards, with at least five images each, each describing different locations and environments from your world (4 aesthetic boards, many many images, 200 words)
Part 3: A conflict, written in at least 500 words, relating to a unique piece of technology that only exists in your world (1105 words)
Part 4: A story written in at least 800 words that introduces your world (810 words)

Daily 8: Women's Day

To My Dear Older Sister:

I probably don’t tell you this enough but I think that you’re pretty cool. I love all of our inside jokes, the way you understand me differently than anyone else, and our ability to break into song, dance, or quotes at a moment’s notice. We might only have one brain cell, but the moments when we share it between us are hilarious and glorious. You’re the person that I’ve been able to share my interests in books, singing, and theatre with most fully - being in 4 productions with you has been amazing, and here’s to (hopefully) another one next spring! You’ve introduced me to some of the best *cough* totally real *cough cough* people, places, and events I’ve ever been a part of, you’ve ranted about them with me, you’ve sung their stories with me, and that is one thing that brings us ever closer. Let’s keep on sharing our stories.

You inspire me a lot in many areas of my life, and really help me to be the best version of myself - from pushing me to do things that I otherwise wouldn’t, like joining choir in grade 8, or helping me have the confidence to do things, like auditioning for Shrek and having the time of my life, you’re there to support me when I need you. I know that our relationship hasn’t always been the best, and we’ve had our ups and downs through the years as we’ve navigated our dynamic and found our place in our family. I’m sure there are many more to come, especially as we head to college in less than 5 years! From the three years we had alone together, to the changes that happened when Our Little Siblings came along, to the way we’ve drifted apart and together again through covid and grade 6/7 to now, our story has always been an interesting one. I can’t wait to see where it goes.

If you take nothing else away from this, take this: I’m Glad You Exist. In ways I can’t always express. Sometimes, I struggle to connect with you and it can feel like you’re in a different solar system. But in the moments when I get a glimpse of your flavour, I feel incredibly blessed to be your sister. Whatever happens in our crazy lives, I want to stay close to you. I love you.

Daily 10: A picture is worth a thousand words

( Slept from 12:45 am until 10:45 am so 10 hours so 1200 - (10x100) = 1200 - 1000 = 200 )

The clouds above formed a blue layer, but the swath of heavens ahead was glowing golden, painting yellow on the underbellies of the clouds and reflecting on the road. Dark trees framed either side of the golden sunset, obscuring the drop down the mountainside on the left side of the road. The sun shone through the branches and the clouds, its rays reaching through to the road. A few cars drove along, headlights bright. The beige campervan sped along, red lights contrasting the white of the headlights. The sunlight refracted through the droplets on its windshield as the sun-shower began, and the wiper blades were quick to brush them away. The campervan had seen many sunsets in its lifetime, many mountains and trees, many roads and cars. It had travelled across the province, traversing bridges and freeways, pausing in its travels in motel parking lots and driveways and parkades. The campervan had stayed on the side of the road and rolled through ditches and been chased through streets. It had spent time in alleyways and dumps and yards and campsites. The campervan had witnessed laughter and playfulness and shouts and anger. It had seen cozy moments and dangerous ones and it had come through them all to just keep on driving. That’s what vehicles were for, after all. They run and run and run until they can run no more, and even then a few parts and wrenches or tire changes later it would continue on. Before it was finally abandoned, that campervan would see much, much more. It had been hated and it had been loved, and it didn’t know it. It was just a campervan, after all. Just some metal and leather and glass and rubber. It really wasn’t anything special. But the moments in it - sitting on the roof and staring at the stars, driving along a beach, reading under the covers, that moment on a highway while the sun glowed gold and the sound of raindrops mixed with the music and the person in the passenger seat reached over and took the driver’s hand - made it special. To anyone else, it was just a campervan. To me, it was so much more.

Everything I wrote during Cabin Wars:

“The origins of the Familiars is a very interesting subject for scholars!” He exclaimed, pushing up his glasses. “It’s much debated to this day - are they simply little-known, like the Halflings, or are they the product of a spell, in which case, a self-inflicted one or a curse, or is it some measure of evolution?”
“We’re right here,” He comments, and she nods in agreement.
“You want to know where we come from?” She interjects. “It’s not that deep. I can tell you.”
“Of course Familiar folklore is almost exclusively in favor of the curse–”
“It’s not folklore. It’s our history. Now, be silent and Listen,” She said, filling her voice with intentionality during the last word. He shuts his mouth.
“Listen,” she repeats. “Generations ago, when our Peoples were not so accepting of one another as they are now, there was a growing group of people from different Peoples choosing to live together. A powerful person was angry with this turn of events, and especially so after his children joined the group, even going so far as to claim they were in love with members of other Peoples. A found family of those willing to look past superficial differences was scorned by those still too afraid to change. And in his anger, he used his power against them. ‘If you act like freaks, you will look like them as well!’ he proclaimed, and thus they took on animal characteristics. He did not finish there, however. They were not afraid to be different before, being even more shunned was not punishment enough. And so he laid another condition upon them - they would be in service so another, until their freedom was granted to them. That another was originally him, but soon the enterprising man saw this as an opportunity, and began to sell them as though they were nothing more than his horses or cattle. And so we were spread across the land, trapped in service to whoever had enough coin to think they could own us. And even if I tried my hardest, I could not make you remember this, for the reason there is so much debate on the matter is simply another piece of the curse - no one knows the truth, except for us.”
She stopped, rubbed her temples with a sigh.
“No need to get so worked up over folklore,” he said, but there was a strange look in his eyes.
“What do you mean, no one knows the truth?” he asked.
“Ask him what I said,” she said solemnly, almost sadly.
“The same thing Familiars always do - that her ancestors were cursed,” the glasses man said, giving him a strange look. He stared back at him. “But there’s simply no more proof to support that than anything else.”
“I’m sorry, kid,” she said. He nodded.
“I think that… he… was trying to teach me that too…”
They fell silent for a moment. Then the glasses man clapped his hands together.
“Well, since you have no new information to give to me, I suppose that I’ll just be carrying on–”
“Wait.”

— — —

They sat with their thoughts, the only sound the fire crackling.
“The bad man…” Gigi finally said. “Why does he want you?”
He looked away, at his hands, at the stars over their heads, everywhere but into their eyes, left hand rubbing his right forearm. Finally, he tugged on the bandage there, unwrapped it, and held it out. They gathered around, quizzical expressions on their faces. Gigi reached out and traced her fingers along the raised circle of skin. Lucielle shifted to sit beside him and offered her own arm, with only two instead of his four.
“Similar scars?” Livi asked.
“Brands,” he whispered. The word feeling like acid on his tongue.
“CJ has these too! Well, this one, and a different one,” Gigi touched the circle closest to his wrist. He nodded.
“Is it… it’s because you’re all Familiars, isn’t it?” Livi asked tentatively. He nodded again, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Trying to say the words. But she said them for him.
“That means that man… he’s your… you know. Isn’t he? And he wants you back?”
“Their what?” Gigi asked, looking at her.
“Owner,” Lucielle whispered. Everyone looked at her.
“That’s silly,” Gigi said, smiling. “You can’t own people.”
She looked around at them, and her face turned worried.
“You can’t own people,” she repeated, this time unsure.
“You shouldn’t be able to,” Livi said. “But some people think they can.”
“Bad people,” Lucielle added, and Livi took her hand.
“Very bad people,” she agreed.
Silence fell again as the kids turned this new information over in their minds.
“What’re mami and dadi going to do about the bad man?” Gigi asked finally. “They won’t let him take you away, will they?”
“I don’t think so,” Livi said.
“No.”
They all looked at Lucielle once more.
“How are you so sure?” Livi asked her.
“They promised,” she said simply. Gigi’s eyes widened.
“That’s right! They all promised. Just like they promised to protect me, and you, and you!”
“It’ll be okay,” Lucielle finished, wrapping her arm around him. That’s when the tears fell. They all joined into the group hug, pouring strength into each other.
“It’ll be okay,” Livi reaffirmed.
— — —

The kids flocked to him as they kept yelling. He stood frozen.
“I don’t see how we can keep doing this-”
“Well I won’t stand for not doing it! We chose this life to help people!”
“It’s okay,” Gigi whispered. “They aren’t really mad.”
“Yes, by killing monsters and fighting warlocks and- and- doing everything else. Dangerous things!” His ears were turning bright red as he talked, but she just stood calmly with her arms crossed.
“They know that it’s dangerous. It’s not like they can’t handle themselves. It’s not like they haven’t been through worse.”
His eyes widened at the last words, but she just pressed her mouth into a thin line. Livi looked away from the two of them. He pressed his hands over his ears and crouched into a ball. Livi crouched down and put her small hand on his shoulder.
“You know it’s true.”
“Well, I just don’t see how this is sustainable, I mean-”
“There’s more adults than children here. And they’ll be coming of age fairly soon.”
“A few years is fairly soon?”
Gigi looked from him to the adults, then started towards them.
“They’ve already been through more than some people of age-”
He opened his mouth to reply, but then saw Gigi as she stepped over and tugged on her mom’s sleeve.
“What is it, honey? The adults are talking-” She followed Gigi’s pointing finger to him, and her expression turned to regret.
— — —

She held up a finger to stop whatever he was going to say, and gestured to him. Then she walked over, crouching down to look him in the eyes. She reached out a hand but then shook her head slightly and pulled it back.
“Hey,” she said softly. He stayed frozen how he was, hands covering ears, eyes squeezed shut, muscles so tense he was shaking.
“I’m sorry we were yelling,” she continues. She pauses for a moment. “You’re not in trouble, you know. This isn’t your problem or your fault.” He stills for a moment.
“We’re adults, so when we fight it’s only our problem. We aren’t mad at anyone, not even each other. We’re just trying to figure things out, and it got heated. You don’t have to be scared when we’re upset with each other.”
A tear leaked out of his eye and ran down his cheek.
“You’re safe with us,” she finished softly. And then he crumpled, falling onto his knees. Gigi held out her arms, and he nodded, tears running down his cheeks, and she hugged him. He cried silently into her shoulder. She stood up and the two of them exchanged a long look.
“Alright.” He said finally. “You win.”
— — —

Darvi cast a rock wall in front of him. He turned around, looking around in a panic. Sol finished her song, and ropes materialized, binding his hands and ankles. Tala caught him as he fell over.
“No- please-” he said desperately. “I can’t go back, I can’t be there-”
“What did you do to get that bounty?” he asked, stepping in front of the man.
“I ran away,” the man said simply.
“Wait-” he said, pushing forwards. He gripped the man’s forearm, pushing up his sleeve.
“It’s not a bounty on a criminal,” Livi realized. “He just wanted his property back.”
— — —
Clothing:
Elven clothing varies depending on status - Elves living in human cities often wear similar clothing to their fellow citizens, working elves wear outfits appropriate to their activities, and the high-class elves can most often be found in fitted, formal clothes made of silks and other sheer fabrics. Most elves prefer earthy colours that help them blend into their surroundings, but higher classes often delve into silver and white, or other pastel shades. Patterns are not common, but they love lace and embroidery. Modesty is important to them - arms including shoulders and legs up to thighs can be shown, but you’d be surprised to find an Elf with an uncovered midriff or plunging neckline; and men usually don’t go around bare-chested either. Shoes vary greatly based on how functional they need them to be.


Dwarves are often found in brown and black, but they are fond of deep jewel tones as well. They dress according to profession of course, usually in fire-proof fabrics. Dwarven clothes are made for functionality and to last, and are usually considered to be the best quality. Metal elements and buttons are popular additions to clothing. Modesty is not as strict as with the elves - going shirtless is common for male dwarves, and overall standards are more relaxed. Boots are the common footwear option.


The Folk wear almost exclusively clothes that they themselves can make of what’s found locally, so colours are limited to what the earth provides. Most Folk make their own clothes from an early age, and making clothing is very important to them. Many items are handed down by family members. They highly value self-expression, so they have no standards apart from basic decency. Shoes vary, but more often than not they go barefoot.


Halflings tend to wear simple colours, often browns and garden colours. Their clothes are often simple, with similar functionality to the dwarves but less metal. Clothing is made to last, so it’s common for a Halfling to wear a dress that belonged to her grandmother, or his grandfather’s suspenders. As far as modesty goes, they prefer to keep even shoulders covered and have clothing fall to their knees. Halflings also go without shoes for the most part, but hats are common.


Humans wear almost everything under the sun. Similarly to the Folk, they value self-expression and have fairly relaxed modesty standards, though not quite as relaxed as those of the Folk.


Familiar clothing is undocumented.


— — —
Social rules:
As can be seen through standards of appearance, social norms can vary greatly between the Peoples of The Continent. The Elves value order, respect, cleanliness, status, and nature. Dwarves put emphasis on strength, courage, riches, good food and good drink! The Folk stress respect for all people and things, balance, and community. Halflings appreciate peace, simplicity, and fellowship. Humans are too fickle for their values to be nailed down - hard work, pleasure, progress, beauty, and much more. Familiars are inclined towards obedience freedom. Overall, things like murder, thievery, and other crimes are looked down upon, of course.


The Interactions of the People and people in general:
Elves are highly judgemental of all People but their own, and even within their own People they experience varying levels of class-ism, and general discrimination against anyone who doesn’t fit specific standards, although those more removed from the whole of Elvish society are less likely. The Dwarves disapprove of this to the point of being just as bad towards the Elves as the Elves are towards them. They value strength, and are not very accepting of those with disabilities. Humans, of course, are jerks who love their -isms. Even if changes are happening, they’re happening slowly and discrimination is everywhere. While many live peacefully with the other Peoples, in the past they mainly interacted with the other Peoples for profit, and most are still distrusting of The Folk. The Folk are generally extremely accepting as they have high respect for Life. Halflings like to keep to themselves as many other Peoples infantilize them due to their diminutive stature, and their difficulties with areas designed for people of larger size, and this shelteredness has affected their views of those who are different than them.


Now, on the subject of Familiars… The Folk are stoutly against the ownership of Familiars, due to their opinions on respect of all. Halflings as a whole are almost unaware of their existence, but most wouldn’t agree with forced labour. Dwarves accept it, and use them. The largest percentage of Familiar owners are Human. Elves don’t really care, and do own some. Familiars themselves don’t usually believe that their treatment or treating anyone the way they are treated is good for obvious reasons.

Critique for @chocolate_camps (1389 words)

Overall, amazing piece! It has beautiful imagery and really makes the reader connect to the season that you’re describing. It was a lovely read <3 Alright, now onto specific, chunk-by-chunk critique. It’s much more nit-picky and repetitive at times asdfasdf and the advice for the entire piece/in general is at the bottom <3

Frost touched the windows of Galmoria.

Love this imagery! It’s a great hook to get the reader into your piece, introduce your setting naturally, and show that this is an imagery-heavy piece.

There was ice everywhere. Ice on the streets. Ice on the plants. Ice everywhere.

The repetition of ice everywhere here feels a bit redundant and could be considered telling-not-showing. Maybe you could replace one, or both, of the “ice everywhere’s” with some more examples of where ice is. Then the reader can figure out for themselves that the ice is really /everywhere/ (like, “wow, the ice is on the streets and the plants and the buildings and the cars and the fences and the awnings and the windows? It really is everywhere!”).

There was even an ice skating rink and an ice hockey arena near the giant clock tower which also had snow on it. There were even some days where there would be a blizzard and everyone would have to stay inside under the blankets sipping hot cocoa by the fire.

The imagery and worldbuilding with the clock tower here is very fun! When you use “There was even” and then “There were even” one after the other you change tenses. It also makes me wonder what it would be like with a bit more sentence variation. I don’t think the word “even” is necessary here, since it makes it feel like it’s the last item in a list - for example something like “there was ice on the streets, ice on the plants, even ice on the buildings” would feel more natural to me.

What the people didn’t know was that these blizzards wouldn’t last for long.

Why didn’t they know?

Soon, the blizzard had stopped and the town had little stands that sold little redwood trees.

I love the mini trees <33 and the specificity of them being redwoods! It seems like a very fun tradition and it’s a great use of subtle worldbuilding. You did use the word “little” twice in this sentence though - could there be some more variation?

Even though it was cold outside, they had a fun time decorating their tree with a beautiful and colorful assortment of ornaments. Some people would even listen to special holiday music. However, when the time came, it was time to put away the ornaments and trees as it was not snowing anymore. It was the end of Winter.

“When the time came” followed by “it was time to” makes the sentence clunky - maybe pick one and cut the other? Also, is winter directly connected to the end of snow (“oop, all the snow’s gone - guess we can’t do any winter stuff anymore!”) because the way it’s written makes it seem like the reason they’re putting away the winter things is because the snow is gone, and then it being the end of winter feels like an afterthought (mainly do to the period in between the two ideas).

The weather was showing nice sunny skies and the flowers were blooming. Red, Pink, Blue, Purple. So many colors to enjoy. The snow was gone and the flowers were here and blooming in the town of Galmoria.

Flowers and springtime are a great use of imagery/symbols to set the scene, just like the snow and ice for winter! However, it says “the flowers were blooming” basically the same way twice within 3 sentences. Also, just a few sentences ago in the last paragraph it was mentioned that the snow was gone, and now it’s being mentioned again.

Nobody would know that this would change, they were just enjoying the nice weather and all the easter egg hunts.

Again, why don’t they know? Also, are they having easter egg hunts for the entirety of spring?

It was nice seeing and hearing the bees buzzing in the flowers as well doing a good pollinating job. Bees buzzing from flower to flower. Oh how amazing it is.

“Bees buzzing” in close relation to flowers is used twice, once after the other - maybe the second sentence doesn’t need to be here? And then the third sentence doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the piece.

This was definitely a warmer change from the cold winter. A lot more people were going outside, taking walks, playing sports, and even just talking on benches. It was definitely a nice change from the cold weather and activities. It was time for the nice weather and flowers to wither and it was time for another season.

All the activities people can do now that it’s warming up are fun! But once, again, the same thing is mentioned once after the other - the change from the cold from before, and then the phrase “it was time.” In addition, the use of “warmer change” in the first sentence is odd.

Clouds were dusted away as the bright sun was rolling into the blue sky. It was hot!

Clouds being dusted and the sun rolling are fun, unique verbs for what you’re describing! “It was hot!” seems very much telling and not showing - in Winter, the reader is never told that it’s cold, but we can figure it out from all the talk about frost, ice, snow, and blizzards. In the spring, the change in temperature is used to show us that it’s warming up. Here, we’re just told directly that it’s hot. It’s also one of only very few instances in the piece that are this direct.

Another day, another week of staying inside with the nice cool air conditioning. The streets of Galmoria were empty again except when a few people went out to get ice cream sundaes. Even though the streets were empty, the beaches were full. People building sand castles, sunbathing and even playing in the ocean. It’s like the whole town was at the beach from playing in the ocean to watching and listening to the white-bellied seagulls fly through the town.

The mention of air-conditioning makes me curious - where is Galmoria, exactly? Winter and Autumn feel more fantastical, but Spring and Summer feel grounded in our world. To me, Galmoria feels like a name of a fantasy place, but maybe it’s just because I’m used to reading American names. The contrast of people not being in the streets but swarming the beaches is a really great way to show summer! The words “It’s like” feels more informal and unsure than the rest of the peice - maybe it could be cut, and the reader just understands that everyone is at the beach, or maybe it could be changed to “It felt/feels like”?

However, just like all the other moments in time, nobody knew it didn’t last very long. Instead, they just decided they wanted to enjoy what they saw. The moments that were spent together were limited, so they had to enjoy every moment they had with each other.

And just like I’ve said before: why not? Also, if nobody knew it wasn’t going to last; then why were they even making a decision about their life? And why are the moments spent together limited - if it’s because of something like school that doesn’t happen in the summer, maybe mention that. In addition, every other instance of foreshadowing like this one you use “wouldn’t” not “didn’t,” so maybe changing this didn’t to wouldn’t would keep up the consistency?

All of a sudden, that beauty was taken away. The whole surroundings went dark like a piece of paper that was sharpied. A few moments later, the town was brought back only it was a little bit different.

This part contributes to the more ominous edge of the piece - where the transitions between Winter, Spring, and Summer felt natural, this is very sudden and dramatic, and seems to contradict. It could also make the reader wonder if there is something magical going on – was it summer, and then the town disappeared and instantly came back, but now fall, like a snap of your fingers? Or is it just trying to show that Autumn is abrupt (which I would maybe wonder if it’s not?).

There were Red, Orange, and Gold leaves everywhere. It was very pretty. There were so many of them that leaves started piling on top of each other.

Colours don’t need to be capitalized, unless it’s a stylistic choice to emphasize them. “It was very pretty” is another blatant telling moment - the reader wants to SEE that they’re pretty through your amazing imagery skills, not be told that they are. On that note, instead of telling us that the leaves were everywhere, we can just be left to figure that out when we hear that there are so many leaves that they’re forming piles.

There was one little girl, May, who was up at 7:30 am when the rooster crowed. She went downstairs to the backyard, put on her boots and started jumping in the piles of leaves. She had so much fun as well as the other little children in Galmoria.

This is the only time in the entire piece that it is talking about one person, and not “people” or “everyone,” and the only time a specific time is mentioned, so it feels like a stark contrast and a bit jarring. It might flow better with the rest of the peice if you simply switched it out for something like “Many children woke up early….”?

Soon this would all cycle back all over again and the town would experience happiness being together.

This once more leaves the reader with two options - is this a normal slice-of-life about a town going about their year, or is there something deeper going on with this “cycle”? I think you’re going for the first option, but the use of foreshadowing throughout the peice makes me at least wonder if there’s more to this than meets the eye.

And now overall things… many of these were mentioned above, so it’s mostly a summary:
The main question I have content wise is: do the people of Galmoria forget every year? Or just… not know how seasons work? Because each time it’s mentioned that “the people didn’t know ___” it pulls the reader out of the piece to go, “wait, what? Why don’t they know about the seasons?” and also lends a bit of an ominous tone to an otherwise cozy piece. If what it is is you trying to show that the people are just very focused on the present, I think that’s a really cool concept (or that they forget every year, also a cool concept), it just seems to be a little bit lost in translation!

Other than that, general critique is to pay attention to your tenses, as throughout the piece you shift between past, present, and even future tense; to pay attention to sentence variation, redundancy (when something is unneeded), and how you’re using repetition (is it aiding the story or cluttering it?); and when you’re showing and when you’re telling - you have amazing imagery skills, I’d just love them to be able to shine even more! Something that might be able to help with some of these things is just to read the piece out loud! This is really helpful for grammar and sentence structure, partly since you’ve probably read it many times that your brain will now skim over things/decide they look normal, so reading it shakes things up in your brain and gives you some new perspective!

Our One-Act Play:

(mostly what I'm wondering is how's the pacing and flow, can you understand it, is the humor good, and do all the characters/dynamics come through, so like overall stuff not really nitpicky/grammar bits.

also I'm lazy so pls just imagine that all the blocking is in italics - and centred if applicable - and any other formatting like that is present asdasdf.)
Secrets, Smoke, & Switches

ACT I
Scene i


TIME: The present, summer, mid-afternoon.

SCENE: An ordinary Canadian living room with a couch, side table and coffee table, in the house Edith and George have had for years. Should feel simple, familiar, and homey.

AT RISE: The sounds of a news broadcast are heard as the lights come up to show EDITH and GEORGE sitting on the coach, watching the morning news on TV before their grandchildren arrive. Then the doorbell rings.

(EDITH walks to SR and opens the door. ELLIE, REESE and WREN enter.)
REESE: Hi Grandma! (hugs EDITH) Hi Grandpa!
WREN: GRANDMAAAA! (hugs EDITH)
EDITH: How are you, my loves?
WREN: We’re AWESOME!! How are you?
EDITH: I’m doing well, honey. Why don’t you both come on in, and we can find an activity to do together?
ELLIE: Hi mom, hi dad. Thank you so much for this-
EDITH: Of course darling. You know we love having them.
REESE: You say that like we don’t come here, like, allllll the time.
WREN: That’s because grandma and grandpa are the best babysitters.
ELLIE: Right, well, I’ve got to run, I have to do the grocery shopping and then get to the library–
EDITH: Honey, make sure that you allow yourself a break too! You always work so hard, especially with Tom so far away.
ELLIE: Mom, I’ve got it covered. You don’t need to worry.
EDITH: I’m your mother - it’s my job to worry.
GEORGE (placing a hand on EDITH’s shoulder): Edith, sweetheart, you’re hovering again.
ELLIE: Thanks again! I’ve got to run!
(ELLIE exits SR)

ACT I
Scene ii

GEORGE: Okay, what do you kiddos want to do now that your mom is gone?
WREN: CARTOONS!
EDITH: Alright dears, have a seat.
(EDITH, REESE, and WREN sit on the sofa. EDITH turns on the TV.)
TV: Circle DNA, the world’s most comprehensive DNA test. Discover your roots and find out who you are! Buy now while our family sale is still on!
REESE: (points at the tv) That seems cool! What if we all took it as mom’s birthday present?
GEORGE: Your mom’s birthday is still so far away, though.
TV: Results guaranteed in approximately six weeks!
EDITH: Oh look, that’s just enough time. How convenient!
WREN: Yay! I bet I’m totally related to Ariana Grande!
REESE: You make everything about Ariana Grande.
WREN: DO NOT!
TV: This is your laaassssttt chance. Buy one today!
EDITH: That sounds like a wonderful idea. Ellie has always been curious about her heritage.
GEORGE: I don’t know…it seems like a waste of money to me.
EDITH: Oh, why not, George? It can be something we all do as a family.
GEORGE: I’m just saying, I mean, those things tend to be expensive. Don’t come complaining to me when we can’t go on that trip to Ontario to visit your family like you’ve been dreaming about, Edith.
TV: Now fifteen percent off and going for the low, low price of only eighty-five dollars!
EDITH: Sounds like that won’t be a huge problem.
REESE (to WREN): Imagine if you’re adopted, now that would be cool.
EDITH: REESE!
WREN (to REESE): Imagine if you’re secretly an alien and the government comes to get you!
(WREN grabs REESE’s arm. REESE shoves her face away.)
EDITH: Girls! Is that how you talk to each other?
(REESE shrugs and focuses on the TV. WREN turns it off. REESE and WREN fight over the remote, before EDITH takes it from them. WREN smiles smugly at REESE.)
GEORGE: Alright, I’ll just be going to… um…
REESE: Wait, what about the DNA test?
WREN: I want to do it!
EDITH: It could be quite interesting, I suppose.
GEORGE: I really think we shouldn’t.
EDITH: Oh, why not George? After all, you’re always talking about how we should be more open to trying new things and having new experiences.
WREN: Yeah grandpa! Please?
WREN: Yeah, please? (holds please until out of breath)
GEORGE: All right, all right, fine, I’ll call. But before we purchase this doo-hickey, why don’t we just settle down and play a game? How about some uno?
WREN: I want to see if I’m related to Ariana Grande!

REESE: Can you quit talking about Ariana? It’s super annoying. She’s not even that cool or anything.

WREN: Hey! She totally is! She’s the coolest! (turning to GEORGE) But grandpa… Can you call them already? You said you would!

GEORGE: Well, maybe we should consult your mother first?

REESE: Aren’t you her dad? You’re like… the one who tells her what to do.

EDITH: She's not wrong George, and I’m sure Ellie won’t mind. Why’re you so nervous?

WREN: Wait, how does the DNA test work anyways?

GEORGE: (Gets an idea) A big scary doctor will come in with a bunch of needles! Then he’ll take all your blood and do experiments with it!

WREN: Will it hurt?

GEORGE: A whole lot!

EDITH: What has gotten into you today, George? Don’t scare the girls! I’m sorry he said that dirty fib. All we have to do is call them to set up the test at the lab, we mail in our samples and they’ll mail back the results. It doesn’t hurt at all.

REESE: Can dad, uncle Eddie and aunt Evelyn do it too?

EDITH: Probably not, honey. But you can tell your dad and uncle Eddie all about it when we video call on Saturday.

REESE: I wish they’d get posted back here… it sucks to have them gone all the time. I really miss them.

EDITH: I know, honey. We all miss them. But it’ll be fun anyways!

WREN (ignores entire conversation): Well, if it’s so simple like Grandma said, why don’t you call them Grandpa?

GEORGE: I- well I…

EDITH: Oh… I’ll just call them, how about that?

WREN: Yay!

(Lights go down)



ACT I
Scene iii

(CHARACTERS take new positions, lights come back on)

WREN: (Holding a present box above her head ss if she’s just entered) We’ve got the presents!

(ELLIE and EVELYN enter from SR, carrying the rest of the presents.)

EDITH: Here, let me help you with those! (reaching out for the presents)

ELLIE: I’ve got it mom, don’t worry!!

EDITH: But it’s your birthday! And worrying is what I do best!

GEORGE: Isn’t that the truth!

(They arrange the presents on the table)

ELLIE: There!

REESE: And the final touch! (Places envelope on top of present stack)

WREN: This is so exciting!

(EVELYN greets EDITH with a hug. In the background, WREN starts to shake the presents and REESE stops her. GEORGE is waiting for his chance to get at the envelope.)

EDITH: Hi honey! How nice to see you. How’ve you been?

EVELYN (hugging GEORGE): I’m doing well.

ELLIE: We’re all so glad you’re here.

EDITH: And how’s our Eddie doing?

EVELYN: He’s doing quite well from what I've heard from him over the last week, apparently he likes their new base a lot.

ELLIE: Tom was telling me that he likes it there as well.

EDITH: That’s good to hear. Oh, my two boys in the military – it’s just too bad they can’t be here today. Well, why don’t you all catch up while I go to check on the cake?

ELLIE: I’ll help you.

WREN: Me too! I want to do the icing! And lick the spoons…

REESE: You can’t ice it yet, silly. The cake’s still baking.

EDITH: It’ll be out of the oven soon. And in the meantime, can help your mom, aunt Evelyn, and I with setting everything up outside.

(ALL except GEORGE exit SL)

GEORGE: (Talking to himself while panicking) Oh dear… there’s no hope for me now… they’re all going to find out! What to do, what to do? Ah! I’ll move to England where I can live a peaceful life enjoying tea! Yes… No, that's too far, how will I ever see my family? Oh, but will they even want to see me again…

(WREN enters from SR)

WREN: Hey grandpa, grandma wanted me to-

GEORGE: If they knew that I swapped the baby!

(WREN gasps and GEORGE spins around to see her)

GEORGE: Oh, hey kiddo! Uhm… what I meant was that I dropped- no! I mean… Taught the baby! You see, your mother was homeschooled for a little bit and… uh…

(WREN is still stunned and looking at GEORGE with her jaw dropped)

WREN: Mo-om!

GEORGE: Wait!
(REESE enters from SL)

REESE: What is it? Mom’s still busy helping Grandma and Aunt Evelyn set up the food in the yard. Not that they’re letting her help much, you know how Grandma gets–

WREN: Grandpa swapped Mom with another baby!

REESE: He did WHAT?!

GEORGE: Shh! Let’s just keep this between us, alright?

REESE: What do you mean, he swapped mom with another baby?

GEORGE: Well, you see, shortly after your mother was born, your Grandmother asked me to ‘Change’ the baby. So I did… I switched her out with another baby! And she can never know about this!

WREN: (patronizing) Grandpa, that’s ridiculous! (giggles) Sorry sorry, I’m trying not to laugh (giggles some more before turning serious) And you’ve got to tell mom!

GEORGE: No, no, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. All these years I’ve kept it from her… I can’t tell her now. It would be devastating for her.

REESE: Come on, Grandpa! I think you’re just embarrassed, or worried she’s going to be mad. But think about it- she’s going to find out soon anyway! It might as well be from you. Mom always says we should apologize up-front when we mess up.

GEORGE: Hmmm.. I suppose that you’re right.

REESE: Of course I am. (nods)

GEORGE: She will find out about it…

REESE: She definitely will. (WREN nods enthusiastically beside her)

GEORGE: Unless….

REESE: Oh no… I don’t like where this is headed. (WREN shakes her head dejectedly)

GEORGE: We do something about it!

WREN: What are you talking about, Grandpa?

GEORGE: We just need a distraction… I know, go to the kitchen and turn the oven up as high as it goes!

WREN: What?!

REESE: More importantly…Why?!

GEORGE: It’ll be fine… I just need some time to grab the envelope and get out of there! If everyone’s in the kitchen, then no one will notice a little something disappearing….

WREN: (aghast) Grandpa!

REESE: Your problem solving skills suck.

GEORGE: Come on, you want to help out your poor old grandpa don’t you?

REESE: Poor old grandpa? More like sneaky old grandpa!

WREN: Yeah, very sneaky!

GEORGE: We have ice cream in the freezer anyways, you’ll be fine! You’ll still get your dessert.

WREN: Ice cream! Wait, no. We can’t ruin the cake! Everything’s supposed to be special for mom!

GEORGE: I’ll skip my hockey game to let you watch your cartoons when you come over. And I’d only ever do that for my favourite grandchildren.

REESE: We’re your only grandchildren.

WREN: Well in that case, I’ve got an oven to mess with! (heads towards SL)

REESE: Wren, wait!

(REESE attempts to grab WREN, but WREN ducks under her arm and exits SL. REESE follows her off)

GEORGE: Now to get that envelope…. She’ll thank me for it one day. Or well, she won’t since she’ll never know. But she’ll still be happier this way. Maybe I’ll tell her in my will. Yes, that’s a great plan!


ACT I
Scene iv

(EVELYN enters from SL as GEORGE walks towards the envelope)
EVELYN: Hey, George… (stops and sniffs) Do you smell something burning?
GEORGE: (jumps, knocking over the presents. He hastily re-stacks them, before brushing himself off) Oh, Geez Louise! You scared me, Evelyn! (Sniffs dramatically and then laughs nervously) Nope, no smoke that I can smell.
EVELYN: No, really. It smells like smoke!
REESE: (Calling patronizingly from offstage) Did someone forget the cake is in the oven?
GEORGE: (Rushes around, agitated) Don't go in there! I mean, I’ll take care of it.
EVELYN: Wait what? What’s happening to the cake?
(WREN runs in from SL)
WREN: The cake is ON FIRE!
EVELYN: WHAT?!
GEORGE: (clears throat) what? I mean, uh, WHAT?!
WREN: FIRE! FIRE! FIIRRRE! (makes siren sounds)
(ELLIE enters from SL)

ELLIE: What is going on in here? Calm down, Wren! Inside voice, please.

WREN: (whispers) fiiirrrrrre.

EVELYN: Someone’s very excited, it seems.

(REESE and EDITH enter from SL)

GEORGE: (clears throat) How’s the cake?

EDITH: Well, we put it out but-

REESE: It’s inedible.

GEORGE (quickly): Oh, that’s too bad. Really too bad.

REESE: Yeah, it’s so unfortunate. (Gives GEORGE, who avoids eye contact, a look.)

EDITH: Are you okay, dearest? You seem so flustered!

(EDITH places a hand on his forehead to check his temperature)

ELLIE: Are you alright, Dad?
GEORGE: I’m not hiding anything!
EVELYN: Who said anything about hiding things?
GEORGE: (Startled) Hiding? Oh! Nothing. Just… my reading glasses?
ELLIE: You don’t have reading glasses, dad.
GEORGE: No! I meant, the smoke! It's affecting my eyes.
REESE: You are reeaaally bad at lying, grandpa.

ELLIE: (Reaches for his hand) Dad, is there something going on?
GEORGE: Nothing, I swear! Now how about some cake?
EVELYN: How? The cake is burnt.
GEORGE: Well then what about the–
(WREN grabs the envelope. GEORGE tries and fails to snatch it back.)

WREN: Look what I’ve got! (gasps) It’s the DNA test!

GEORGE: Oh… uh.. I thought it was junk mail?

REESE: Really, really, really bad at lying.

GEORGE: I think you’ve made your point.

EDITH: George, were you planning on opening those without us? How naughty, spoiling the surprise.

EVELYN: What surprise? I love surprises! Is it for Ellie?

GEORGE: No, no, we can wait, in fact, I think we should definitely wait until later!

(WREN rips open the envelope and holds it up)

GEORGE: Oh boy….

EDITH: George, what are you so worked up about? It’s not like anyone’s adopted.

EVELYN: What? What does this have to do with people being adopted?

GEORGE: No but… I may have made a mistake all those years ago…

ELLIE: Mistake? What mistake?

EVELYN: That's what I’d like to know.

EDITH: Oh, that’s not important right now… what does it say, honey?

WREN: This is full of weeeeeiiird words.

EVELYN: Why don’t you let one of the adults read that for you?

GEORGE (desperate): Hand it over, I’ll read it!

ELLIE: Are you sure you’re feeling alright, dad?

GEORGE (insulted): Of course I am, don’t be ridiculous!

EDITH: George! (sighs) I think everyone just needs to relax. Nothing’s wrong. Isn’t that right, George?

GEORGE (unconvincingly): Yep, nothing at all.

WREN: Really weird words! (mispronounces all of them) Comprehensive, Ancestry, Heritage… Deoxy-rib-onucleic acid?

ELLIE: Deoxyribonucleic.

EVELYN: (confused) What are you talking about? What’s the letter all about?

REESE: Come on already! I want to know what it says, but instead we’ve been standing here talking about Grandpa, and Wren can’t even read!

WREN: I can too! Oh, it means DNA! Why didn’t they just say that?

EVELYN: DNA?

REESE: (grabs the paper and walks away from WREN) Just let me do it!

WREN: HEY! (attempts to snatch it back)

REESE: You’re gonna rip them!

WREN: AM NOT!

REESE: Are too!

EVELYN: Let’s calm down, girls.

REESE (starts reading out the result): Grandpa, look! Mom and you are ninety-nine point nine percent related. She’s definitely your daughter!

GEORGE/WREN: Really?

ELLIE: Why do you sound so surprised? Of course I am!

GEORGE: Well, you see, back when you were a baby–

EDITH: Oh you kids, this is what you’re all worked up over? I knew about it the whole time.

EVELYN: Knew about what, exactly?

EDITH: (to GEORGE) Do you really think I wouldn’t have noticed that you didn’t bring me back Elizabeth? A mother knows her daughter. And anyways, they put wristbands on all the babies, you know, just in case of switcheroos like this. Some new fathers aren’t all there, you know! Hospitals are prepared for everything. The nurse had those two switched back before you even noticed it happened. I didn’t realize you’d been thinking about it all these years… I honestly found it a little amusing. (EDITH chuckles.)

GEORGE: Amusing!?

EVELYN: This is actually getting really interesting… just when I was finally convinced my in-laws were normal!

ELLIE: I don’t know what to say… I guess I’m just surprised that this story never came up!

EDITH: Well, there are lots of more interesting baby stories about you and your brother… like that time when you and Eddie attempted to–

ELLIE: Okayyyy, MOVING ON!

EVELYN: Ooo, I haven’t heard too many of Eddie’s childhood stories… I think he’s a bit embarrassed.

WREN: I wanna hear the story too!

REESE: I second that.

GEORGE: Trust me, you don’t, kids. Your mom and uncle Eddie were menaces!

ELLIE (embarrassed): Dad!

EDITH (chuckling): They really were. They take after you, you know (points at GEORGE).

EVELYN: Really? Well George, you’ll need to tell me all about your days as a troublemaker, too.

GEORGE: That will not be happening!

ELLIE: Come on, dad.

REESE: Yeah grandpa, tell us about your daring teenage days.

WREN: Grandpa as a young person? Ew!

GEORGE: I think we’ve gotten off topic– what else does it say?

WREN: (grabs takes envelope from REESE) Woah grandpa, you are twenty-one point five percent Nor-we-gian! I MIGHT BE RELATED TO VIKINGS!

ELLIE: Wren, remember your inside voice, please.

EDITH (glancing at the paper): George, honey, you’re Greek! How lovely is that? I’m married to a Greek. Just like the Queen.

REESE (sarcastically): God save the Queen!

(WREN bursts into giggles, ALL laugh)

CURTAIN


Also, quick run down of the family tree: George and Edith Williams are the parents of Eddie and Ellie. Eddie is married to Evelyn. Ellie is married to Tom and has two kids, Reese (15-16) and Wren (10-12). Tom and Eddie are in the army.

Daily 11: fairytale rewrite


Once Upon A Time, In a Land Far, Far Away…

There lived a girl named Jill, and her brother Jack, in a cottage with their mother and their cow. Well, the cow lived outside, but you get the picture. Since the family was very poor and on the brink of starvation, one day their mother decided that it was time for them to sell their cow, so she sent the twins out to get money for the family.
“Be back by sundown,” she instructed them. “And remember: you aren’t to accept any less than three silver pieces!”
“Of course, mother,” said Jack, because he was a good, responsible, obedient, and sensible boy. Jill was not. Well, she wasn’t a boy, but she wasn’t good, responsible, obedient, or sensible either. Their mother kissed them each on the cheek, Jill wiped it away, and then off went the pair towards town and market.

Jill walked along the top of the old stone wall, arms out for balance and long blonde hair swinging back and forth, as Jack led the cow along beside her. Finally, only a sentence after starting out, they came to the crossroads. A signpost stood pointing the way - town to the right, the lake to the left, and the way they had come behind them.
“To market, I suppose,” Jack said, taking a step to the right.
“Let’s not be hasty, dear boy,” a new voice croacked. The twins turned to see a peddler with a cart full of wares across from the way they had come.
“Was there a road there before?” Jack questioned, but Jill was already up and examining the kettles and scarves and jewelry the peddler boasted.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry on such a fine, fine day?” The peddler asked them, raising one of her thin eyebrows.
“We’re going to town to sell this cow for no less than 3 silver pieces,” Jack said matter-of-factly. He was always completely truthful, except when he wasn’t. Jill was never truthful, except when she was. The peddler was sometimes truthful, when she felt like it. But that’s probably not important, now is it.
“Perhaps you would be willing to buy her?” Jill suggested, eager to be heading home. “It’s quite the bargain, I assure you.”
“I am a peddler, my darling. I peddle in bargains, and I can assure that I have a much better one for you, than the one that you are offering me.”
“So you’ll buy the cow?”
“Oh yes… but I’ll give you something even more special for it than a measly 3 silver pieces! Wait here, I’ve just the thing for you!”
The peddler disappeared into his cart for a moment, before emerging and holding out his hand. On it rested three differently coloured beans.
“Beans?” Jill asked, unimpressed.
“No! Magic beans,” the peddler told her.
“Oh, magic beans. That makes more sense,” Jack said.
“Plant these, and things that only existed in your wildest dreams will become true,” the Peddler told both of them, extending a hand to seal the bargain.
“We’ll take them!” Jill exclaimed, clasping the peddler’s hand in her own.
“Wait-” Jack started, but it was too late. The peddler deftly plucked the cow’s halter from his fingertips, depositing the seeds there in one smooth motion.
“That’ll do, toodle-oo, and good luck to you!” The peddler exclaimed as she leaped onto her cart. The twins blinked, and she was gone.
“What were you thinking??” Jack demanded. “Now we have even less than when we started. We’re going to starve to death and it’s all your fault!”
“Hey, calm down. We’ve got these!”
“A couple of beans? Yes, mother will be thrilled, I’m sure!”

The two of them walked home in silence. Their mother was not, of course, thrilled with this turn of events. She threw the beans out the window, which probably wasn’t smart considering they were the only food they had, and gave them both a stern talking to.

That night, Jack found Jill on the roof, staring at the stars.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered to her, entwining his fingers with hers.
“It’s alright. I forgive you. Although…” she trailed off.
“Although what?” he asked, laying his head on her shoulder and closing his eyes
“Sometimes I wish that we could leave this place. Climb into the sky and never return.”
If Jack’s eyes had been open, he would have seen the star that shot across the sky just at that moment, falling into their garden and onto the seeds their mother had thrown. Shooting stars have a habit of being in just the right place at just the right time. It’s very annoying.
“Me too,” Jack whispered. They fell silent.
The star began its work, pouring life into those little seeds so that they grew, taking root and bulging and then racing skywards to the clouds. The children clutched onto the roof for safety as the ground shook and rumbled.
“What’s happening?” Jack yelled.
“I don’t know!” Jill replied.
Finally, all was still. Jill sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. Jack stayed where he was, eyes tightly shut in fear. Their mother had slept through the entire thing.
“Look at this, Jack!” Jill exclaimed, hopping onto a leaf.
“Be careful!” Jack reprimanded.
“What could it be?” she wondered, rubbing her hands on one of the leaves.
“I think that it’s a beanstalk! A very large beanstalk.”
“You know what we should do?”
“Considering how your face looks, probably something we really shouldn’t?”
“We should climb it to the top. Climb it to the clouds.”
“But what about-”
“Come on, little brother. Live a little!”
“I’m not that much younger than you–”
But Jill was already climbing. Hesitantly, Jack followed her up the leaves and vines, up, up, up until their farmhouse was but a speck and they couldn’t have caught sight of their mother no matter how hard they tried. They were in the sky now. Eventually they came to the top, resting on a fluffy bank of clouds. Jack flopped down on his back, covering his eyes.
“I am never doing that again!” He said, exhausted. Jill laughed as she lay beside him.
“How will you get down then?”
“You’ll just have to carry me.”
“And if I won’t?”
“Then you’ll have to carry the guilt of leaving me behind forever.”
“I think I can live with that.”
“Thanks.”
Silence fell as Jack caught his breath and Jill took the opportunity to get a look at her new surroundings.
“Ooo, look!” She exclaimed suddenly.
“I don’t want to,” Jack told her, but he sat up and followed where she was pointing. His mouth dropped open at the sight of a giant castle in the distance.
“A castle!” He said.
“Yeah, a castle, mr. obvious,” Jill replied. “Let’s go check it out!”
“I don’t like the sound of that…” Jack started, but Jill, of course, was already jumping across the clouds in the direction of the castle. So Jack followed her like he always did.

Finally they arrived at the stairs, where each step instead of being shorter than their knees came up to their shoulders. Jack lifted Jill until she could pull herself up, and then she helped him up after her. It took them a very long time to climb the six steps to the top, but they made it. The door was very tall. They weren’t sure how tall, but it was definitely taller than normal doors. It was so large that the space underneath was big enough for them to slide through on their stomach. So they did. Why not? Once inside, they looked around the oversized room.
“This place is weird,” Jack said. “We should leave.”
“I think it’s cool! Hey, look! Food!” She started climbing up the side of a table. Jack followed her again. Because of course he did.
“Wow!” They exclaimed. There was all sorts of foods - bread, cheese, fruit, bacon, sausages, butter - everything they had been missing. Jill dove into a bowl of grapes and started munching away. Jack tentatively picked up a cracker, which was half as tall as he was, and nibbled on the edge.

And that is when the giant came in.

Daily 12: Title

“A Different Kind of Quiet”

In the beginning, there was silence. Complete and utter silence. Then came nature, filling the gaps with its complex, softly woven melodies. Then came people, and as they searched for their place in this world they added to the noise of it. They added and added and added and as they added they took; taking until there was nothing left but their noise. Until there was nothing left to take.

The day they realized was the day everything changed. It was the day that the people left. Loudspeakers boomed as they spoke and moved with one voice and purpose, moving forwards, acting for the sake of progress, continuation, survival. With a noise like never before, their great ships lifted off as they set out in search of more to take. As they left a broken world behind.

At first, the sound of their machines remained. Whirring and clicking and ticking. Time went by and gears rusted and cables snapped and everything slowed to a stop. As the years passed, the legacy of humanity crumbled to dust. But there was nothing left to take their place. They had taken it all.

And so, ever so slowly, quiet took over the world. No wind, no rain, no lapping waves. No chirping birds or scurrying creatures. No voices or laughter. No ticks or clicks or whirrs.

Far, far in the future, the ship lands soundlessly, and the figure steps out, walking across the ground. But there is no sound of footsteps or breath to break the trance the world had so long been in. This world was unnerving, but still the figure continues on. To the door in the wall. The door that had not opened since the day of great noise. The figure turns the lock, wondering if its ticking is echoing, filling a space left unfilled for so long. Entering, expecting the lights to flicker on with a buzz like they always used to. They don’t. They had been silenced long ago.

In the centre of the room rested a shape, illuminated by the light coming through the door. In the shadow of the figure, in the light of the doorway, in the bunker, in the quiet world, there rested the pearly white bones of another that had been silent for too long.

The sound that finally broke the quiet was that of a heart breaking.


(credit to @SnowdropSugar for the title and
thanks to @taylorsversion– for critiquing it)

Daily 13: Victorian Language of Flowers Daily:

Her long black hair fell around her shoulders as she pushed the door open and stepped out into the garden. She breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of damp earth and dew-covered grass and tentatively opening petals. Her soft humming filled the air. Her eyes glittered as she began walking down the path, trailing her fingers through the blooms on each side, the green skirt of her dress brushing against the grass. She plucked a fallen bloom from the floor, twirling around with it as she hummed. She paused when she saw that she was not alone.

A small girl with long brown hair and a freckled face, the greenest eyes she had ever seen, and a white dress. The strangest thing about her was the flowers – Daisies, marigolds, zinnia, amaranth and elder blossoms – tucked behind her ears and in her hair, growing out of the floor in a perfect circle around her and piled over her skirt like a blanket. She cocked her head, and her hair fell to the side, revealing ears that came to a point at the top. The girl gasped. A faery!
“What are you doing here?” she asked. The faery shook her head, touching her fingers to her lips. She opened her other palm to reveal a belladonna, watching the girl’s face carefully. Then she shook her head, paused, and held up a peach blossom, then settled on a handful of blue verdenas with a questioning expression.
“Flowers?” The girl said. The Faery nodded, then plucked another flower from the ground, adding it to the blue verdenas. “Iris? Iris and verdenas… Wait!”

The girl dropped to the floor in front of the Faery, pulling a small book out of her pocket. Its pages were yellowed, its leather cover softened with years of use, the image of a carnation fading on the cover. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she flipped through it, marking certain pages with her fingers as she searched. The faery watched all this intently. Finally, she held up the book, pointing to the picture of the blue flower on the page, then a picture of an Iris. The faery’s eyes lit up, and she smiled a smile as brightly as a sunflower.
“Papa says not to trust the Fae,” the girl said suddenly. She paused. “Are you dangerous?”
The Faery simply cocked her head at this. The girl flipped to another page, pointing to the Fae and then at the image of a Rhododendron bloom. The Faery paused for a moment. Then she reached up, plucking a Rhododendron bloom from behind her ear and crushing it, then holding up a daisy and a periwinkle. The girl remembered those two. The next pages she flipped to held the images of Carnations and Ambrosia.

Many years later, the girl would sit in her garden, a cup of tea resting on the table before her. A flower crown of Ferns, Pansies, Dahlias, and Gillyflowers would rest on her hair, turned white as snow by the passing of time. In her hands would rest a bouquet of Periwinkle, Honeysuckle, Forget-me-nots, and Ambrosia. And she would smile as a quiet tear slipped down her cheek.

————————————————————————
Flowers I used and their intended meanings:

Daisies: Innocence
Marigold: grief
Zinnia: thoughts of absent friends
Amaranth: immortality
Elder blossom: Compassion
Belladonna: Silence
Blue Verdenas: I understand
Iris: Message
Rhododendron: danger
Carnation: fascination
Periwinkle: Memory, friendship
Ambrosia: love returned
Fern: concealed love
Pansy: You occupy my thoughts
Dahlia: Yours till the end
Gillyflower: affection
Honeysuckle: ties of love
Forget-Me-Nots: Love in Absence

Daily 14: Colour Symbolism (Holi + Pi Day)

The sky was bright and blue as she walked down to the beach, the waves glittering, welcoming, begging her to come in. Laying a towel on the ground and taking off her shoes, she breathed in the salty air deeply. Her light pink skirt flowed around her ankles as she dug her toes into the sand. She took a few steps forwards, across the sand left wet by the tide, and let the waves wash over her feet.

Spinning around, she saw him. His finger was still raised from tapping her on the shoulder. She smiled brightly at him, in his black jacket, but he didn’t smile back. She sat on the sand, patting the ground next to her, but he just shook his head. She stood back up, reaching out a hand to take his, but he shoved it in his pocket instead, looking away.

As they spoke, the sun retreated from the beach, the sky turning a shade of red as their voices rose. The clouds were tinged in gold, without a silver lining to be found. His shadow lengthened along the beach as his shadowed eyes looked away. The sky reflecting in the sea and the cliffs, making the world seem much more dangerous than before. As he said his goodbyes, the last sliver of sun lit up his form. When he was gone, the sun was gone too.

The subtle fading of the light had brought on darkness, and as the clouds rolled in, the raindrops joined her tears on the beach as the world took on a grey hue. The wind whipped her skirt around her legs, but the colour seemed to have lost its life. The waves crashed against the rocks, suddenly appearing dark and unwelcoming. The sounds of the growing storm blocked out her sobs as the rain washed the tears from her face. No one heard.

Daily 15: Ruler for a day

“You’re the king now,” They said.
“W-what?” he asked.
“All hail our new king!” He announced. And then everyone was bowing. They were bowing. To him. Why? He wasn’t the king. He couldn’t be the king. He couldn’t– Livi nudged his arm.
“They want to know if you have anything you’d like to say,” she whispered. He shook his head adamantly. “Do you want to run away again?” she asked. He nodded, with an sound that was embarrassingly like a whimper but also perfectly encapsulated the panic going on inside. She nodded, then took his arm. He was vaguely aware of her saying something, and then the whole group of them went inside. Away from the crowd. The bowing crowd. The crowd that was bowing because he was the king. She sat on the first coach she saw, pulling him down with her. Someone walked up and asked him something. He put his hands over his ears. Maybe if he ignored it for long enough, then it would go away.

That was a stupid thought. But it was also comforting. Then Gigi hopped up beside him and gave him a hug, wrapping her skinny green arms around his neck comfortingly. Luci placed her hand on his chest and tapped in rhythm with his quick breaths. He focused on slowing them down, until she was just stroking in long fluid motions. He opened his eyes. Livi smiled and squeezed his arm. He took his hands away from his ears.
“I don’t want to be king,” he whispered.
“Are you scared?” Gigi asked, right on the money as always. He nodded.
“What are you scared of?” Livi asked him. People staring. Decisions. People asking him for things. Having to do things. Making mistakes. Hurting people. Being like all the people he’d hated.
“People in power aren’t good people anymore,” Luci said, grabbing everyone’s attention, then continued, “That’s what you’re scared of?”
His mouth dropped open, but he nodded. That was about right.
“But most people have power of some sort, and they manage not to mess it up,” Gigi put in.
“But a lot do,” Livi countered firmly.
“You won’t be a bad person,” Gigi said. “You’ll help people!”
“You could change things,” Livi said. But a million thoughts were rushing in. What do change who to help how to do it– Livi squeezed his hand.
“Sorry,” she said. “You don’t have to think about it all now.”
“You could make someone else king if you wanted,” Gigi suggested.
“I don’t know–” he started, then stopped. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say.
Then Luci took his arm, gently tracing her finger along the scars. She met his eyes.
“I do know,” he said decidedly. This was something he could do. This was something that needed to be done. He stood up.
“Come with me?” he asked. They all nodded. Livi took one hand, Gigi the other, and Luci smiled softly, taking Gigi’s other hand. He took a deep breath, then they walked back towards the front stairs. A big group of adults was waiting in front of the door, talking heatedly with each other.
“What do I have to do to make a law?” He asked loudly. They all turned.
“You wish to make a decree?” One of the palace officials asked.
“Yes. For the entire land.”
“Oh, well, just, erm, announce it. We’ll write it down and have it distributed through the kingdom.”
He nodded. That seemed simple enough. They pushed open the doors, and he was momentarily frozen by the sea of faces looking back at him. Livi and Gigi squeezed his hands, and C put a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath in, and said the words.
“All Familiars must now be freed from their contracts. All of them.”
Silence, interspersed with gasps. Then muttering. Then, someone shot into the sky with a whoop of joy, and all the Familiars in the crowd exploded. Some laughed or cried, while others ran to people, waiting to hear the words most believed they never would. Luci wiped silent tears from her eyes, and Gigi grinned widely. He was just happy he had done something good.

Weekly 2: Rule breaking
─── ⋆⋅♪♬⋅⋆ ───
Part 1: 570 words

D hummed, so softly at first that everyone’s eyes stayed trained on the fire. Then, C strummed a few gentle chords on her lute, caressing the strings with great care with a soft smile on her face, eyes drifting to some place both far away and ever-present. Luci stared up at the stars, while Livi watched D, and he kept on staring at the flames. T’s voice joined the chorus, low and rough and gorgeous in a rugged way, adding rhythm. H’s higher pitch followed. The two parents supplied the words, E in common and M in Folkish. Their daughters were the last to join, finishing in weaving the melody, letting it float up to the heavens like the sparks from their fire, turning into stars in the blanket of the night. It was a song that felt familiar yet new, a song that invited in and yet was intimate in ways that cannot be described. A tear rolled down D’s face, C’s eyes sparkled, and although T’s eyes were trained on the stars, and her mouth was upturned, her eyebrows betrayed a look of sorrow.

Then Luci offered up her voice, adding a lilting tune on top of it all. Foreign, yet accepted instantly. Taking a deep breath, Livi began an old dwarvish lullaby, one that instantly brought tears to her eyes. He stayed silent, yet to add his voice, although his fingers tightened on the hem of his shirt. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, but paused. The breath wooshed out again. Once more, he breathed in deeply. Finally, he added his words to the ethereal song.

— — —

The rain poured down heavily, and Gigi tugged on M’s sleeve.
“I’m scared,” she said simply. Mom scooped her up and she giggled as she was turned upside down, then sighed as she was held close in M’s strong arms.
“I hate the rain,” Livi commented. She scowled and kicked a rock. The rain reminded her of things she’d rather forget. He nodded in agreement with her. He had memories he’d rather not be reminded of, too. Luci held out her hand to catch a droplet.
“Rain brings life,” she said softly. Gigi smiled.
“I like that,” she said in reply.
“It can also take it away,” Livi told her, before instantly regretting it. The words swept his mind away to another time, the way water swept away all in it’s path…

A day exactly like any other, just him and the doctor. They stole precious moments together, learning and laughing, things that couldn’t be done otherwise. Things they couldn’t do anymore. Not since that rainy day, all those years ago, the day that: The warning bells failed - they were having a good day - the water was rising - they were playing a game - the water didn’t care - they were laughing again - the water was relentless - they were smiling at each other - the water washed it all away.

He still remembered the fear, sound of rushing water, shouts, running, the feeling of sudden weightlessness and helplessness and the push of the waves as they rushed through the camp and took everything away from him. He still remembered it all. He still–

Luci’s arms were wrapped around him. Livi was holding him up, arms under his. Gigi was holding his arm. He attempted to regain his balance, but he was still disoriented. He was still there. And the rain was still falling.

Rules I attempted to use (or not use):

Don’t use said
Show, don’t tell
Don’t use adverbs
Add sentence variation
Write in complete sentences
Avoid being repetitive
Don’t use was (there was lightning vs. lighting filled the sky)

─── ⋆⋅♪♬⋅⋆ ───
Part 2: 300 words

“So, what do you say?” She asked, smiling brightly and kindly the way she always did. “Would you like to be one of us?”

Would you like to be one of us would you like to be one of us one of us one of us–

Rooted to the spot, frozen, helpless, lost, repeating over and over and totally lost. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder, someone’s voice was coming from somewhere, someone’s arms were around him and someone was still speaking but it was the words that kept repeating over and over and over again: Would you like to be one of us would you like to– Would he? He didn’t know. He never knew. He knew nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. He couldn’t deal with this, and that became his new mantra.

I can’t deal with it I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I–

It was like watching from afar, outside of himself, seeing their worried faces but unable to do anything and meanwhile his thoughts were shouting screaming begging to be heard to be understood but he didn’t understand.

I don’t understand. I don’t know. I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know–

It was too loud, too much, too big. And someone was still talking and someone was still trying to comfort him and someone was falling – he was falling, and someone was catching him. He was only dimly aware of it all, it wasn’t important. What was important was the words, the words were important, the words were the most important thing but the words had escaped him. What were the words?

Would you like to be one of us?

He couldn’t decide. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know.

Didn’t know didn’t know didn’t know. It’s too much.

So it all went away.

─── ⋆⋅♪♬⋅⋆ ───
Part 3: 300 words

Colours surrounding me, soft sounds filling the air, sweet smells floating past. Everything was calm, serene, soothing. I breathed in deeply, my thoughts drifting by like clouds, feeling my eyes closing. This was perfect, incredible, everything. I could sleep forever here. I could let everything go. I never had to… to… to what? The thought was gone, washed away. It probably wasn’t important… Everything was soft, comfortable, inviting, smothering, welcoming, calming, soothing. There was no reason for alarm. Everything was going to be okay if I just stayed here.

I stretched out, brushing my fingertips through the softness underneath me. The softness all around me. I rolled onto my side, put my arms under my head, stared at the softly moving colours. I never wanted to leave, I had to leave, I would stay forever. There was somewhere… somewhere? Here was the only place that mattered. It was amazing here, incredible here, terrifying here, wait, perfect here, no, wonderful here. Yes, it was wonderful here. The most wonderful place ever. I sighed, feeling my whole body relax. I wanted to just close my eyes, I could just close my eyes, if I closed my eyes I would never get out.

Get out? I sat up. Things weren’t making sense, were they? They are, they aren’t, it’s alright, it’s not… I shook my head, and the feeling was jarring, waking me. Sleep… sleep would fix everything. I should just lie down, close my eyes, drift away, further into the dream… am I dreaming? A dream… there’s nothing wrong with a good dream. This is a nightmare. I pinch my arm, hard, the pain keeping my eyes open. I need to keep my eyes open, I need to close my eyes, there is no need because everything is safe, serene, soothing, stifling–

(emotions is supposed to be a combination of calm and panic)
─── ⋆⋅♪♬⋅⋆ ───
Part 4: 365 words

We sat around the campfire, eating hotdogs and enjoying the smell of the campfire smoke. Everyone had a smile on their face, satisfied with a good day. We’d hiked for hours, set up camp, made a fire, cooked the food, and finally we could just relax and enjoy it.
“Here’s to a good day!” Jamie said, lifting her hotdog. I laughed, and raised my own.
“Here’s!” We cheered, then fell into giggles and laughter.
“The best day,” Georgie added, stretching out her legs.
“Hey,” Sofie put in. “Did I ever mention that I’m a werewolf?”
“What?” Jamie asked. Just then, the sun came out from behind the clouds. Everyone laughed at the absurdity of that statement.
“Yeah, sure, and I’m a vampire,” Georgie added. Then Sofie spilled her water on him, and he started melting.
“Nooooo!” Jamie yelled. “My only weakness: dying!”
Then the campfire blew up.

And I woke up. What a strange dream… I thought. What on earth did I eat last night? I shrugged, then walked down to the breakfast table. My mom was setting things out as usual. Orange juice, cups, plates, forks, and knives.
“Hey, can you get the bacon off the stove?” she asked.
“Of course!” I replied. The bacon smelled amazing.
“By the way,” she added. “The dog turned into a dragon and flew away this morning.”
“What?” I asked, but she just walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of fruit. I probably heard wrong. I grabbed the dog food and shook it, waiting for Joe to come running into the kitchen. He didn’t. Strange, I thought. Then I shrugged. It was probably nothing. I shook it again, and my mom came back into the kitchen.
“I told you, he’s gone,” she said.
“You were being serious!” I yelled. She nodded. Then my dog - no, my dragon - smashed through the window.

And I woke up. Okay… I thought. This is getting weird now. Wait. My alarm hasn’t gone off. I sat up. My dog was sitting on the bed, grinning at me. Okay, back to normal. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m not a dog,” he said. I screamed.

And then I woke up again.

Daily 16: Mascot Interview

You know that feeling of anticipation? The one that causes butterflies in your stomach, makes your hands sweat or your heart quicken? The one you’d think you have before going on air for thirteen cabins of SWCers, some plenty more experienced than you? Well, lucky for me, I don’t get that feeling.

I take a deep breath and press the button, putting on a bright smile and a cheery air.
“I’m your host, Lilyjen, and this is SWC radio!”
I like to imagine people tuning in with excited smiles on their face. Let’s make this a good show.
“Today,” I announce into the microphone, “we’ll be interviewing a very special guest: One of our own SWC mascots!”
I pause for the canned applause to play. Cheesy? Sure. But this is my talk show - I can do whatever I want on it. Just then, the door opens and the guest enters, taking a seat across from me. I speak as I turn to face them.
“And now, writers and gentlefolk, let me introduce this session’s mascot– wait, who are you?”
In case it isn’t perfectly obvious, suffice it to say that the person sitting across from me was not the one that I expected. I realize I’ve let the show go silent when I’m on air, and I quickly clear my throat and search for an excuse to make up for it.
“Well folks, it seems that we’re entertaining a surprise guest today! So surprising even I didn’t know about it!” I hope Jimmy has the sense to play some canned laughter for me. I tap my note cards on my lap.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself to our listeners?” I prompt. She grins.
“Hello everyone! I’m Kevina, and I’m so happy to be here today!”
At least she has personality. Wait.
“Kevina?” I ask. “There wouldn’t be a chance you’re related to, well, you know.”
“He’s my brother,” she says with a wink, clearly enjoying this. Not sure what to follow that up with, I look down at my notecards. First question: How are you enjoying the session? Right, a simple starter.
“Well, Kevina, let’s get started!” I say, easing back into the familiar routine of an interview. “First up: what have you thought of the session so far?”
“It’s been a great one! I’ve had a lot of fun throughout the first half of the session, and I can’t wait for the rest – especially the next cabin wars! Oh, and all that drama about my brother was highly entertaining.”
I glance down at my cards once more. Next Question: Kev*n or Kevin? Well, that seems oddly appropriate.
“So, Kevina,” I begin conversationally. “What’s your opinion on the censorship of…”
“My brother’s name?” she finishes for me. I didn’t realize how difficult this question would be. “Well, I know my brother isn’t always the best person, so some people are sensitive about even his name. If they don’t want to say it or write it, or other people choose not to in respect of them, then that’s their choice. But anyone who wants to say it can. I’m not going to tell anyone what they can or can’t say or write. And I believe there’s especially no reason if it’s a different Kevin. I don’t really have that problem myself though – I just call him My Brother.”
She smiles a little at that last comment. What a thorough answer. Just then, a light blips on. That’s my two minute warning. Already? Wow.
“Well, Kevina, it seems like that’s about as much time as we have for today – is there anything you’d like to tell our viewers before you go?”
“Time really flies when you’re on air, huh? Well, thank you to everyone listening for being part of SWC and making this possible – you literally give me life. And thank you, Lily, for having me,” she says. I smile at her.
“Well, you heard it, listeners! Here’s to a great session and thank you, Kevina.”

Daily 18: Similes

TokoWrites: the truck was speeding along the highway, going as fast as a cat stuck in a tree moves to climb down

Their truck sped along the highway as fast as a cat stuck in a tree trying to get down – which is to say, not very fast.
“Speed up already,” Christie complained. “We’re not in a school zone.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the road isn’t exactly pristine,” JD replied without taking his eyes off the road, which was broken up and covered in rubble in certain places after the earthquake. But the real reason for his white knuckles was the fact that he’d only been driving for a couple months, and that was with supervision.
“Driving’s hard,” Jordan said, attempting to calm the cousins.
“I bet I could do it,” Christie replied.
“This isn’t a video game!” JD snapped, slamming on the brakes for a moment. Everyone’s heads thumped into the back of their seats.
“Be careful!” Isobel reprimanded. “You’re gonna jostle him!”
Everyone turned to look at Rowan, whose head she held carefully in her lap. JD turned his eyes back to the windshield and Christie stared out the passenger window.
“I know it’s not a video game,” she murmured. In video games, you get more than one life. JD’s expression softened as he slowly pressed the gas once more.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not daring to take a hand off the wheel to comfort her. Jordan reached around the seat and patted his shoulder.
“It’s alright,” Christie replied. “We’re probably just all tired, right?”
“Sure. You guys should get some sleep,” JD said, and then yawned.

Silence fell for the next few minutes of driving. JD was focused on the road, Christie leaned her head against the glass, not minding the bumps, Jordan searched for something to say, Isobel brushed Rowan’s hair out of his face, and Rowan stayed as he’d been for the past couple of hours. When they started swerving, Jordan was finally fed up.
“I’m driving,” she announced. JD started, pulling the car straighter.
“No, I can do this,” he said. Christie rolled her eyes.
“If we crash, you won’t be doing anything,” she told him. “There’s no cops. You need a break. I trust Jordan. And… Rowan needs someone to drive. So stop being a stubborn idiot and let her take the wheel already.”
“Alright, I get the point,” JD said, stopping the car. Jordan gently lifted Rowan’s legs off of her lap and got out, and she and JD switched seats. She took a deep breath before starting the car, and easing it forwards. A few jerks later, and they were going again.
“Go to sleep, you guys,” Jordan said. “I’m wide awake.”
JD reluctantly leaned backwards and closed his eyes. Christie kept her head on the window. Isobel was already asleep, her even breathing intermingled with his erratic breaths. Jordan watched the road. Slow and steady and maybe they could win this race against time. For Rowan.

Daily 19: Three Word Stories

Lliu_11 || 3 words: music, food, morning

The sound of soft music pulled Jordan from her dream. Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head, then sat up and pulled on her hoodie. Morning light streamed through the curtains, leaving a bright stripe across Rowan’s face. He was curled up in the armchair, hugging the stuffed lizard close to his chest. Isobel and Christie were still asleep on the couch, and Jordan picked the blanket up off the floor and tucked it around Isobel. She stepped out into the hallway, following the music past the kitchen where food had been laid out on the table – bread, bacon, eggs, orange juice – and through the sliding doors to the porch.

JD sat on the deck swing, gently plucking at the strings of the guitar as he stared out across the lake. He played a chord, and the music faded, being replaced with the sounds of the birds and the bugs and the water gently lapping on the shore. Jordan sat down on the chair next to him, and he started slightly. Then he smiled.
“Morning,” Jordan whispered, not wanting to break the spell of the morning.
“Morning,” JD replied, still staring out at the just-risen sun.
Nature’s music filled the silence. Jordan leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.
“You made breakfast,” she commented absently. He nodded.
“I was up early, so I thought I might as well.”
She traced a finger across his guitar.
“Coffee?” He asked. She smiled.
“Sounds good.”
They walked inside together, finding the others sitting at the table, waiting. Christie’s eyes twinkled and she raised an eyebrow, but JD just rolled his eyes at her. They sat down, and Isobel and Rowan passed each of them a cup of coffee. Everything was perfect, just their little family.

Daily 20: reminiscing poem

Looking back,
To see the past,
A year that began
Less than three months ago
Where does time go?

School began,
Midterms conquered,
Projects finished and begun,
Performances completed and planned,
Friendships strengthened over time.

Birthdays passing by,
Older sister now seventeen,
Drivers license on the way,
One year closer to college,
Leaving, a complicated day.
Younger sister now twelve,
Last year of being a tween,
Next year she’ll be a teen,
Almost in highschool,
Growing up too fast.
Mother and Uncle,
Sharing birthday,
Celebration, and cake,
Three fifths of a family together
To see them turn forty-one.
Your birthday approaching,
Fifteen, back to the same age as some friends
Still younger or older than others,
Still out of place in your grade.
Birthdays are curious things.

Looking back,
To see the past,
Looking forwards,
To see the path
To a future
Hopefully filled
With love
And Light
And life.

Weekly 3: Tropes
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Part 1: 700 words

• Found family
  

The trope of found family is found in many stories, especially among other tropes like “conveniently an orphan.” Some good things about this trope is that it is often used well and in unique ways – found families come in all shapes and sizes (that’s sort of the point) so it doesn’t feel as repetitive as other tropes can. A con is that like all tropes, it is present in a lot of media, and can feel like a given, like “oh, the character lost their family… well it’s fine, they’ll just find a new one!” and it sometimes comes with a message that blood-relations or family are unimportant, and fixing damaged relationships isn’t necessary since you can just find a new family.

• Love at first sight
  

Love at first sight is a very well-known trope that gets a lot of hate, and, in my opinion, for good reason. Some cons of love at first sight is that it inaccurately portrays love as something easy or simple – most people do not, in fact, end up with the first person they instantly fall for in the span of a minute; that those involved are often toxic people (usually stalkers. Just because you saw a pretty girl doesn’t mean you should find out where she lives and then go there at night and trespass so you can attempt to woo her); and it often shows a very surface-level affection where the people involved are only physically attracted to one another in some way. It does have a few pros, such as supporting the beauty of love and that you can find someone who you love that will love you back.

• Self Sacrifice
  

Self-Sacrifice is a trope that appears in many stories, across genres and mediums – from superhero stories to dystopias to The Bible, it’s virtually inescapable. One pro of this trope is that it praises, well, sacrifice – giving of yourself to help others – which is an admirable trait. One con is that it is often used as a one-step redemption arc: if a character is horrible, but they give their life in the end, are they instantly a hero? And can glorify death. A pro-con pair is that sometimes it can be used amazingly subtly, where the person makes a deep and meaningful sacrifice, but just as often if not more it is simply dying for some greater cause or reason, and can feel extremely overused and cheap – like a badly used trope.

• Conveniently an Orphan
  

Conveniently an Orphan is the name I’m giving to the trope where the main character just happens to be an orphan – whether it’s no family at all, or just the parents gone. One pro of this trope is that it is, to put it simply, convenient. It can make a story instantly more interesting or add internal or external conflict. However, this can turn into a con when it isn’t developed and it’s made to seem like a character should be interesting or their conflict should matter just because they are an orphan. Having dead parents doesn’t define them, the consequences do, and if those consequences aren’t well written, it’s just a trope that feels like a shortcut to not having to write about the parents.

• The Chosen One
  

The Chosen One is another trope that is often paired with Conveniently an Orphan, and can be found in many genres and stories – from a superhero to a magical prodigy to someone with specific parents or genes to someone that is part of a prophecy. One pro is that it allows for conflict in the story, both internal and external. A con is that it can feel forced if everything in the story happens just because this character is “chosen” or special. Another pro is that it can give the reader the feeling that they could also be incredible or special, but at the same time it’s a con if the reader feels that they’re just another “ordinary” person and they aren’t special. Another Con is that it can feel like an excuse to overpower the character, like, “no no, it makes perfect sense for them to break the laws of reality and everything, they’re SPECIAL.”

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Part 2: 346 + 670 words

(346 words of research)
Found family

Found Family, also called Family of Choice, is a trope that can be used in multiple ways – whether in an adult becoming a parent, grandparent, or uncle figure to a younger character, in a group of younger characters becoming like siblings to each other, or otherwise. It’s often paired with other tropes, especially “Conveniently an Orphan.”

Love at first sight

Love at first sight is one of the oldest tropes in the book, found in a multitude of fairy tales, in Disney movies, and in many of Shakespeare’s most famous plays. One or both characters can fall in love at first sight, and it can lead a variety of places – to happily ever afters, tragic demises, or simple break-ups. Some memorable examples of this trope are fairy tales such as Cinderella or the play Romeo and Juliet.

Self Sacrifice

Self-Sacrifice is an umbrella term for a variety of tropes, from “Self-Sacrifice Scheme” where a character plans their death in order to save someone else or the world, or “Heroic Sacrifice” where a character saves someone else or other people and is hurt or killed as a result, “Senseless Sacrifice” where the sacrifice isn’t actually meaningful in the end, or “Stupid Sacrifice” where the sacrifice was completely unnecessary and not even close to being remotely helpful.

Conveniently an Orphan

A trope that is convenient because it gets rid of ties that might weigh down a character – no need for them to be homesick if they have no home to go back to, am I right? It appears in a lot of different media. A conveniently orphaned character is usually orphaned before the main plot occurs, most often when they are a child.

The Chosen One

The chosen one is, well, chosen, by some force. They are often now the only person capable of resolving the plot or getting to a happy ending. It has quite a few sub-categories, but most often a chosen one is some form of Heroic protagonist. They can also come in groups, where there are many “chosen ones” in a story.

Using the Trope of Found/Chosen Family::

Jordan opened her eyes to the sound of soft crying. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and looked around. She blinked twice, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the early-morning darkness as she scanned the room. JD was still fast asleep on the floor, snoring softly. Christie was still at the other end of the couch. But Isobel’s head was no longer cradled in her lap, and Rowan wasn’t curled up in the armchair anymore. She continued to scan the room, until she noticed the silhouettes behind the curtain. She stood up carefully, stepping over JD’s legs, and walked over to the window, carefully pulling back the curtain. Isobel was the source of the sobbing, sitting on the window seat with her arms pulled up to her chest. Rowan was beside her, patting her shoulder with one hand and tugging on his hair with the other, wearing a concerned expression. They looked up at her, the light from the window hallowing off Isobel’s tear-stained face and reflecting in Rowan’s green eyes.
“Mind if I sit?” Jordan whispered, and they shook their heads, so she plopped herself down beside Rowan. “What’s wrong?”
Isobel sniffled loudly, then burst into a fresh batch of tears. Jordan bit her lip.
“I m-m-miss my p-parents!” Isobel hiccuped loudly, a nose running.
“Aww, Issy…” Jordan trailed off. A bedraggled Christie pushed open the curtains, holding out a box of tissues. Isobel grabbed one and blew her nose with a loud honk as Christie sat down, rubbing a hand down her back. JD was right behind her, taking a spot next to Jordan so the five of them were squeezed onto the bench.
“I m-miss school and my frie-nds,” Isobel continued, leaning on Christie. “I w-want everything to go back to n-n-normal!”
“It’s okay,” Christie told her, but she just shook her head adamantly.
“I miss my family!” she sobbed. Rowan raised his notebook, five words written in black marker across the page. I Miss My Family Too. Jordan patted his knee.
“I miss my siblings too,” JD told them softly, staring at the floor. “And my mom.”
His voice cracked just a little bit. Jordan sighed.
“I think even I miss them. It’s weird, without them,”
“Yeah,” Christie added, her voice thick.
Silence fell as each of them was left with their thoughts. Isobel’s tears showed no signs of stopping. “What if…” Jordan started, then stopped. Everyone looked at her.
“What if what?” Isobel asked, rubbing her eyes.
“What if we’re your family, now?” she asked. Rowan cocked his head and Christie raised an eyebrow.
“We’re like a family, aren’t we?” She continued.
“Sure, you’re the mom, JD’s the dad, and I’m the crazy aunt,” Christie joked. JD rolled his eyes, but Isobel actually chuckled.
“It’s like in the movies,” she said. “A… found family.”
“Exactly,” Jordan agreed with her. “Just until… until things go back to normal.”
“I’d like that,” she whispered, and Rowan nodded. Then Isobel yawned, and so did everyone else.
“As the dad, I say it’s bedtime for everyone,” JD announced.
“Awww…” Isobel whined, but she yawned again and didn’t protest as he scooped her off the bench. Rowan hopped down and headed for the armchair, and Christie returned to the couch. Isobel repositioned herself to use Christie’s legs as her pillow. Jordan stayed still on the window seat for a moment longer. JD sat beside her.
“Do you believe things can go back to normal?” she asked softly. He was silent for a long moment, everyone’s breathing the only sounds filling the room.
“I have to,” he said finally. “Otherwise, I think I’d fall apart.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder and took his hand.
“We’ve got each other, at least,” she mused. “A found family… I think I like that.”
“Me too,” he murmured. “Me too.”
A soft rain began to fall, raindrops running down the window behind them, the soft drumming on the roof accompanying them as they fell into a peaceful sleep.

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Part 3: 630 words

Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series – the chosen one trope – Percy is actually evil *gasp*

“Family, Luke,” Annabeth whispered weakly. “You promised!”
Kronos froze, still glowing.
“Annabeth,” he said. But it was Luke Castellan’s voice. “I-I’m sorry–”
She collapsed, breathing heavily. That was that, I supposed. Annabeth and Grover were down, defeated. Luke was in control of their body for the moment, but who knew how long that could last. Now was the moment. Annabeth struggled, raised her dagger, but it slipped from her hand.
“Percy,” she said. “Get the dagger. It has to be you.”
“Right,” I replied, stepping forwards to grab the knife. “Prophesy and all.”
“No,” Luke interrupted. “It has to be… me. If you try, he’ll take back control. Give me… the knife.”
Annabeth and Grover stared at him in confusion.
“What?” Annebeth asked.
“I know… the weak spot. My achilles heel,” he said.
“Tell Percy then,” Grover suggested.
Luke was glowing brighter now. Everything coming to a head, to a climax.
“Please, Percy, there’s no time…” Luke stared up at me. It was time to make the choice.
“Wait, Percy–” Annabeth started as I held it out.
“What are you thinking?” Grover exclaimed.
“Thank you, Percy–” Luke began, but then I tossed the dagger over my head, so it landed with a clang somewhere behind me. Luke’s eyes widened with shock as I grinned. Then I laughed. Oh, the look on his face was priceless.
“Percy?” Grover asked hesitantly.
“Oh, please,” I said. “You really thought I’d give you the dagger? After everything?”
“What’s going on, Percy?” Annabeth asked, staring up at me with her big grey eyes.
“You are not a hero. That’s what Rachel told me. It will affect what you do, she said.”
I laughed, and Annabeth continued to stare up at me in confusion as I finished, “she had no idea how much those words would mean to me. What they would help me realize.”
I spread my arms to encompass the destruction all around me. “I’m not a hero.”
“What are you talking about?” Annabeth’s voice was almost hysterical.
“Olympus to preserve or raize, right?” I asked her. “It was always my choice to make. I’m just making the better choice. Who needs the gods anyways?”
“What about Charlie?” Annabeth demanded. “What about everyone else?”
“Who cares about them? They were weak,” I say, and she flinches at the words.
“He’s– It’s too late–” Luke was growing ever brighter now. And he was right. It is too late. Kronos was rising. The gods were going to fall. And I was going to be in the centre of it all.
“Five years of pain, and what would I have gotten? A swift death in the end. No, this is much better. I’m going to be a general. Would you like to join me, Annabeth?” I asked mockingly.
“We won’t let you!” Grover exclaimed, blowing into his reed pipes. I summoned a gust of water and knocked him out of the way.
“Now, where was I–” I paused as a dagger went whistling past my ear. Annabeth was crouched on the ground, arm still extended. I frowned at her.
“You missed.” I said. Which was strange. Annabeth never–
“I never miss,” she said with a smile. No. No! I spun around, watching as Kronos – Luke – jabbed the dagger under his arm. The throne room shook as a bright light overtook everything. When I opened my eyes, Luke lay dead in a circle of ash. I had failed. It was over. It was all over. Annabeth limped over to him, Grover joining her. They seemed to have forgotten about me for the moment. Too busy grieving over a fellow traitor. Perfect. I turned to slip away, and found myself face to face with the Olympians. Oh gods. This was not going to end well. Not in any way.

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Part 4: 800 words

(Stalker) Love at First sight – Conveniently an orphan – Self-Sacrifice

It was a regular day just like any other by Hillgate High. Susanna Summers walked briskly out of the school gates and down the street, plopping herself down at the table she usually sat at and flipping her hair over her shoulder. Just then, Doug Gates happened to be passing by. He watched her flip her long, auburn hair over her shoulder and instantly felt a deep desire to speak to her. She was gorgeous. Oh, if only he had parents! Then he might be worthy to talk to a Summer. But it couldn’t be helped – in those few moments, he had fallen irretrievably in love with her! There was no stopping this. He marched across the street and up to her table, attempting to slide into the chair across from her and landing on a heap on the ground. When he got up, she’d moved to another table and was flirting with the waiter. Oh Well. She was a Summers, after all… he’d had no hope without any parents to call his own. Oh, how tragic that they had died when he was a boy. Oh well. Oh well. Oh– wait! He could try again, yes, that was it!

He was walking towards her table when he noticed, across the street, a girl petting her dog. She laughed and her whole face lit up like the sun itself. She was beauty, she was grace, she was exactly what he needed in exactly the right place! In a moment, Susanna Summers was forgotten. Doug jogged across the street and walked up to the girl. She linked arms with the boy holding the dog’s leash and gave him a peck on the cheek. Well that didn’t work out either. So many pretty girls, and not one of them seemed interested in poor Doug. It was probably because he was an orphan.

Just then, Doug noticed yet another girl – this one with long brown hair in a single braid down her back. She had a simple air that was very mysterious and alluring, a beauty that was subtle and unique. He was sure that if she just took off her glasses and let down her hair, she’d be the prettiest girl he ever saw. And he intended to tell her just that. He sauntered up to her.
“Hey-” he started. She walked right past him. He backpedaled to catch up with her and tried again. “Hey–”
“No, thank you,” she said curtly. He frowned.
“It’s because I’m an orphan, isn’t it?” he asked. She blinked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re rejecting me without even knowing me because I’m a poor orphan with no family name, aren’t you?” he asked. She looked around the street.
“This is Vancouver,” she said slowly. “I don’t care about your family name or anything. I just don’t want to talk to strange boys.”
“You’re talking to me now, aren’t you?” He asked. She glared, opened her mouth, clamped it shut again, and kept walking. He followed her from a distance. She ended up in the park, and suddenly birds flocked around her. He leaped forwards in her defense, swatting at the birds. She shrieked and fell backwards, landed in the muddy grass. He held out a hand to help her up. She grabbed his arm, pulled herself to her feet, and gave him a shove. Feisty.
“What- Do- You- Think- You’re- Doing?” She asked, panting slightly. He grinned.
“Saving you from the birds, of course!” He said. He stood brushing himself off.
“What the heck!” she yelled. “I feed the birds! I like the birds! I’d much rather be with the birds than with you, you creep!”
“Is this guy bothering you,” another girl asked, appearing suddenly.
“Yeah, he is,” she replied.
“No! Don’t reject me before I have a chance to prove myself! Please!” He cried, dropping to his knees.
“Seriously, stop being a creep.”
“But I’m in lOve with YoU!”
She made a face and the other girl rolled her eyes.
“You don’t even know my name.”
“I’m Doug, what’s your name?”
“I’m not even going to answer that.”
She turned and walked away down the path. He scrambled to his feet and followed her.
“Why not?”
“You don’t even know how old I am – I don’t know how old you are! You could be a, you know!”
“What?”
She groaned.
“Just leave me alone, okay?” she said. “If you really love me, you’ll let me go.”
“Oh! Yes! Anything you say, my lady!” He replied eagerly.
“Sit there for five minutes and then go home,” she told him. He looked disappointed.
“If that is what you want…” he said sadly. She nodded and walked away. What a strange girl, Doug thought. But beautiful… I should find out where she lives! An amazing idea!

Critique for @taylorsversion– (872 words)

First off, overall thoughts: I really like this piece! It’s clear what fairytale you’re referencing, but you put such a fun and unique twist on it that it doesn’t feel at all like a story the reader has heard a million times before. The directness of Belle’s bad intentions is fun, a shocking switch from Belle’s usually innocent and kind character. In addition, it has good pacing, not feeling like it drags on or like it’s cut short – the story takes its time in the beginning, and wraps everything up neatly by the end. Now onto line-by-line comments.

Snatching a rose from a nearby bush, Belle stumbled into a large, grand mansion. She looked around faux uncertainly. “Hello?” she asked.

I really like this opening because it sets up that the story is a beauty and the beast retelling, the setting, and Belle’s character all in a few lines. It also subtly introduces the rose that will be more important later. This could be an opportunity to further describe the mansion, as large and grand similarly portray its size – but is it a castle or a modern house (mansion is vague)? Is it well-kept or decrepit? And so on.

There was a movement to her right and a tall, broad man stepped out of the shadows. Belle smiled to herself. This was all going /perfectly/.

This leads the reader on for a few moments more, letting us think that this is the Beast and keeping us a little confused about Belle, eager to read more and find out what she’s up to.

“Uh, hello? Why are you here-“ the man said.
“I got lost on my way out of the woods.” Belle quivered just enough for the man to believe her, and it worked. He invited her to stay for the night so she could carry on on her way when it was daytime.

This part could also be expanded – maybe slightly more of their dialogue could be shown – which would be an opportunity to show more characterization for both Belle and the Man. Is he really gullible, or is she a really good actress, or is he maybe catching on to her and she’s oblivious to it? There could be some interesting dynamics to explore there. However, it also works just fine as is.

Later that night, when Belle was sure the man was asleep, she slipped out of bed and walked around the house. It was creepy - the furniture was strangely intimidating. She took everything she could, all the expensive things small enough to fit in her pocket so she could take them back to her parent’s shop.

This part leans a bit into the telling-not-showing area of writing. This piece is fairly direct but would there be a way to show us that it’s creepy? Maybe by mentioning that it’s dark or strange noises or a feeling of being watched? Or perhaps you could add in some more of her thoughts, as so far the only time we’ve heard them is when she thought “This was all going /perfectly/” back in the second paragraph.

Walking into a large, deserted room, Belle paused. She eyed an empty jar in the middle of the room and slid her rose from earlier inside. Then, she cast a spell, relinquishing the man’s beauty and turning him into a part animal. For a finishing touch, she added that every time a rose petal fell off, the more he hurt on the inside.

This part is a little confusing – for someone who knows Beauty and the Beast and remembers the imagery of the glass dome over the rose, it makes sense, but for someone else the “jar” might be confusing – unless you did literally mean it as like a vase. In addition, it seems like quite the plot twist for her to decide to curse him: she goes from a suspicious traveller to a petty thief to a cruel sorceress in just a few paragraphs. The reader accepts it as “oh, I see, she’s the sorceress in this retelling” but perhaps you could provide some background or reasoning behind this so that her character will feel more consistent?

She pulled off a few rose petals for good measure.

This line really nails in her cruelty, banishing any sympathy the reader had for her.

The next morning, Belle was sitting in the library when the Beast came up to her.
“How are you faring?” He asked politely. Belle could see he was shaking slightly, maybe from the shock of what he looked like. Belle could also tell he knew she was a sorceress.

This is the second time we get a glimpse at the Man/Beast, and we really don’t get a lot of his character. He seems interesting, and since Belle gets such a big spotlight, perhaps you could give the beast a little more time to shine? In addition, there’s more telling-not-showing. Even just changing the last line to something like “He knows I’m a sorceress…” might flow better.

Belle couldn’t have that happening. She needed to get rid of the evidence.
“I’m doing well. I’m going to go back home now. Thank you. Bye.” Belle ran off.

Again, this feels like a sharp turn from where the story was heading – if she can’t have him know she’s a sorceress, why’d she curse him in the first place? And who does she think he’ll tell? The dialogue also feels a little forced.

When she arrived back home, she put on a show.
Belle summoned all her acting skills, yelling, “There’s this horrid BEAST that tried to kidnap me! He NEEDS to be taken care of NOW!”

The first and second sentences here could be combined to improve flow – something like “she put on a show, summoning her acting skills and yelling “____”.” This line once again nails in Belle’s character and her 3 defining traits in this retelling – cruel, deceitful, and an actress. Perhaps some of those traits could be tied into her thievery and her parents shop, as mentioned earlier?

The village loved Belle and were urged to go take care of the kidnapper beast. They took out their weapons and lanterns and marched to his mansion. When they arrived, the Beast was nowhere to be seen.

The twist of Belle urging them to go is another fun change from the original story, but it raises a few questions: Why do they love Belle? If they love her, why is she a thief? Also, what time of day is it that they need lanterns, if she left the mansion in the morning?

What?

A fun one-word moment to show her shock.

Whilst the villagers began searching the mansion, Belle ran around the house to the garden at the back. And looked around. All the petals had fallen off every single rose bush.

The first and second sentences could be combined, as the short sentence beginning with the word “And” feels awkward. The petals are a very cool moment of imagery!

In the middle of the garden, the man sat. He was no longer a beast. He looked quite ordinary sipping some tea at a small table.

This sentence is interesting… if I were to rewrite it, I might change it to something like “The man sat at a table in the middle of the garden, sipping some tea. He was no longer a beast. In fact, he looked quite ordinary.”

“I know people like you.” He said quietly, “but my house has many secrets.”

This is another moment where we get a tiny glimpse into his character, and it makes me curious just what sort of person he really is. With only 3 lines of dialogue, he stays very mysterious throughout the piece.

Belle could swear she saw the teapot wink.

And finishing off with a surprising moment, an allusion to the cursed servants/Mrs. Potts, and tying off that thread of the intimidating furniture you planted earlier! Very nice.

Daily 23: Tyrant for a day

“Oh?” Lily said, stopping to stare you down. “I’m a tyrant now? I have the abilities to wreak havoc- I mean, help SWC to become even more amazing than it is now? Well, bring it on!”
She taps a finger on her chin, thinking over this new development.
“What should I do… What could I do? Well, since it was just cabin wars, we’ll start there – from now on, we should have cabin wars every weekend! I mean, what’s not to love about cabin wars? They’re chaotic, they’re fun, and they’re an amazing motivator! Think how many more words and points people could get if there were four cabin wars instead of only two? It would be awesome, incredible, amazing!”
She pauses in her revelry to consider your words.
“What? You think that cabin wars can cause sleep deprivation and burnout? That people wouldn’t do as many dailies and weeklies if there were more cabin wars? Well, I’m doing a daily right after cabin wars, aren’t I? Honestly, sounds like an iss-YOU to me.”
She examines her fingernails, even though they are short and unadorned, and obviously bitten. She clearly does not think your concerns are valid in any way. I mean, she’s a tyrant and you're a commoner, what did you expect?
“Now, what else…” She trails off, looking around the main cabin. “SWC should switch to running on PST time!” She looks very pleased with this idea.
“What do you mean, that’s not convenient for everyone else? Who cares about that? You do? Well, I wasn’t asking you. Everyone else isn’t a tyrant, are they? Exactly.”
Then she pauses once more. “Now that you mention it though, it would mean I can’t do dailies and weeklies in the evenings before anymore… and if I moved, we’d have to change it again… so maybe we will just keep it in UTC time.”
She rolls her eyes at your relieved expression. She is a tyrant, after all.
“Moving on~” she says in a sing-song voice. “Let’s see, let’s see, what could we change… we should have another mega-session! Get as many people in SWC as possible! That would be gloriously chaotic, wouldn’t it!”
She frowns at you.
“Please stop interrupting me,” she says, but her words are much more polite than her tone. “I’m the tyrant here, and you’re the commoner. I don’t care what you think, and you’re interrupting my GLORIOUS trains of thought with annoying bits of logic. Who needs logic when you’re a tyrant? That’s a job for your underlings, isn’t it? No? Well, that’s YOUR opinion anyways.”
She starts walking away from you, surveying the cabins.
“I think I have time for one more idea… yes… what will it be…”
She rubs her temples as though that will magically give her some idea.
“Honestly, I can’t think of anything at the moment… SWC is so amazing already, afterall.”
She puts a hand on her chest, taken aback.
“What do you mean, I just don’t want to do the work? I mean, it’s true. But how OFFENSIVE!”