19.07.25 ⟢ 354/200 words - My Fault (Title from Pandora)

“I just don’t get why I can't be in the school play,” complains Lexi as she bites into her burger. I nod along. “It doesn’t make any sense. You were the lead last year, and the auditions haven’t even happened yet!” With that, I sip my Fanta slowly, careful not to spill any drops and make a mess. I lean back against the Weeping Willow, the grass soft under my fingers. Lexi watches me as she crosses her legs expectantly. “Well?” she snaps suddenly.

My head jerks up and I jump, fizzy drink spilling onto the ground. My bad. “Well, what?”
“You wrote your name down on the sheet, but you didn’t write mine.” She accuses me, eyes narrowing, arms folded. My stomach drops. It’s true, I didn’t write down her name, but she easily could’ve as well. Furthermore, “You told me that you didn’t want to do the play this year,” I recount. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a beat of silence. An overwhelming sense of deja vu. Then: “You’re my friend. You should’ve sensed how I felt and done what’s best for me!” Lexi tilts her head and glares. “Thanks a LOT.” I don’t bother to retaliate, because I know I’ll be wasting my energy on a losing battle. I’m so over this. All the time. I can’t read her freaking mind, can I? But still, I say “Okay, okay. Sorry again. It’s my fault.” I finger a daisy on the grass nervously, then Lexi smiles at me and it’s back to it was. Or not.

“To help me out… do you think you could tell casting that you’re not auditioning if I can’t audition?”
Without thinking, something inside me snaps. “No! I worked hard preparing this time, and quite frankly, they wouldn’t care! Stop pushing all your mistakes onto me!” I call her some rude words and step out from under the tree, shadow sharpening in the sunlight, bold, perfect, seen. I’m still shaking as I walk out of the park, up the hill, round the corner. But I’m smiling. The look on her face was PRICELESS. And, whoops! It was my fault.

Daily #19- titles!
My title is from @indigo—-
Word count: 346/200 words

10 ways to sufficiently ruin an innocent game of cards

Hello, hello, hello, everyone and welcome to Em’s extremely silly Train of Thought™ where she explains basically everything in her head at a given moment! Today, we’ll be covering an interesting topic: how to ruin innocent card games. And yes, this is real. Let’s go!
Start breaking the rules. Why don’t you change the rules? It’s even better if you don’t tell whoever you’re playing with what rules you changed. Enjoy the chaos.
Break the rules- but better. This time, break the rules, but instead of just breaking them, give a plausible explanation about why the brokenness of the rules works. For example, you’re playing Go Fish (again). And then you say “my 8 decided to turn into a shark and ate all of your 7s, so now you have to give all your 7s to me”. See? It makes perfect plausible sense!
Slowly start stealing the other person’s cards. Especially if you’re playing (drumroll please) GO FISH! (Ha, that’s just going to be my card game for the rest of this, lol). Shout “Hey look! It’s Michael Jackson on the moon!” and when they turn around, steal one (or 10) cards. Yay!
Change the game in the middle of the card game. Like if you were losing Go Fish, suddenly start changing the game to speed… It’s even better if the other person has no idea what’s going on.
Leave in the middle of the game. Pretty straightforward.
Slowly start changing out the cards in one deck with matching cards from a different deck. It’s even better if you do it when no one is looking and the other cards are extremely silly.
Steal cards- part 2. This time, slowly steal cards from the draw pile. Like spoons, but with cards.
If you’re playing spoons, slowly switch out the spoons with other objects. Preferably without anyone noticing…
Slowly back away from the game. Self explanatory.
Randomly say things that have nothing to do with the game.

And that’s all for today with Em’s Train of Thought™! Come back next time for more totally unhinged ideas.

sun-kissed skin | july 19 daily | title from julia

—

They were strangers, two randos who had met in the right coffee shop at the wrong time. They weren’t supposed to meet. But thanks to the hands of fate, they did.
Our story begins in a coffee shop. It was a normal coffee shop (well, there was a tree; an Arborium, but we’ll get to that later), the type that everyone visits before work and drops by for lunch. Fairly popular, but never crowded.
The sun streamed through the window, golden light kissing skin and illuminating tables and chairs to the point where they were too warm to sit on (you probably know the feeling). And the Arborium in the center of the room pulsed slightly.
The Arboriums. People with so many regrets and unforgiven mistakes that the regrets root the person into the ground, solidifying into a tree. This particular Arborium was new, maybe only a year or so, and its green leaves were plentiful.
Sunny stared at the Arborium every day. Why wouldn’t he? He had a six-hour shift at the shop, seven days a week (he got extremely bored a lot, and sometimes would stare at the tree). He knew the regulars and what they wanted, and what to recommend to the newbies. Sunny had even overheard the manager on the phone, telling the person on the line that he might get a raise (not likely, because the shop wasn’t doing well, but still a kind gesture nonetheless).
So when the woman walked in while he was counting change, he dropped everything and had to start again.
She had them. The regrets. He could see them, because they were already solidifying. Dark wisps encircling her arms, her legs, her chest, her neck, her… everything. And he knew she didn’t have much time left.
The sun shone through the window and kissed her tan skin as she marched up to the mobile-order pickup zone, grabbed the Styrofoam cup, and turned to leave.

—

324 wordssss
possible writing comp entry?! i just need to expand this haha

Critique for @rainbow236

Hi Rain! Thank you for letting me read your poem, I really enjoyed it!
(by the way I put it into google docs to see the formatting like you had planned - I'll get to that in a minute!)

The first thing I noticed was how it is all just one stanza with not much punctuation. Whilst this can be a successful poetic style, I think you might benefit from a bit more. Maybe splitting it up into a few smaller stanzas could help with the progression of time and emotion. Similarly, adding a bit more punctuation could increase the flow, but also disrupt it in parts where you want the reader to notice and feel more. You also use a few lists, which might be worth putting commas in - although it does create a rhymth without, its probably worth keeping to usual grammar rules for most of the poem at least. I have edited the first bit as I would below (just as an example, no need to take my suggestions at all!). It might help you to read the poem aloud and see where it flows and where it breaks. Also worth considering if you prefer capitals at the start of lines or not - its a personal choice and doesn't make a massive difference but just something to think about.

I did also wonder if ‘tword’ is like that rather than towards for a reason? If it is, that's fine, but as a reader I was a little confused.

Born of a seed:
You grow, flourish.
From tiniest mite
To struggling sprout,
On till a thriving sapling -

Blown by the winds,
Drowned by the floods,
Pinched by the rocks…

Ever pushing towards your goal.
Never faltering
Never straying

I love the overall metaphor, its a bit of a classic but done so well! I absolutely love the ending as well, it really hits and is a lovely image. I especially like the rhythm of the tree being cut down, which is so good and emotional. I love the bit that goes crack, and then the line spread out - absolutely perfect! However, I wonder if the final few lines are a bit wordy?

You now resign
Your final resting place
A fickle poster on a wall.

I would tighten them up, or simplify the language slightly, just to increase the emotional impact. For example, I would edit them like this - just a quick suggestion, and not the best one either, but just to show you how you could change the emotion

You now surrender.
To your final resting place -
A faded poster pinned to a wall.

In my opinion (which doesn't have to align with yours) this is easier to read and also has more emotional impact.

Overall, I love this poem, it's really well done. Thank you for letting me critique it!

Daily #19
7/19/2025
295 words

A/N: This is set midseason 2 of Agents of Shield, specifically before/in the middle of ep 12.
Title “Hollowed out (and burning) from Crim <3

her dad, a murderer. her mom, dead.

her?
monster, abomination, must be eradicated.

she didn’t ask for this power; this “gift,” as her father called it, that makes her a threat to everyone she loves. and they wouldn’t love her if they knew.

other than the half-hearted smiles fitz throws her way, everyone seems to think that everyone who has been changed by the Diviner is dangerous. an creature, something to be poked with simmon’s lab equipment. she’s been on that end before; she’s not willing to do it again. they spit out disgust and she plasters a smile, crinkles around brown eyes, fists clenching.

if they saw her DNA, they would know. if she lost control and caused tremors, or whatever the heck they are, they’ll know. she’d had a few quick calls already: the playground shaking when the nightmares came, the trembling equipment when everyone was fighting. may already knows from the way she’s withdrawn herself from sparrring. but she can’t risk it.
she can’t risk hurting them.
with this gift curse. by showing them who- what she is.

she’s alone again. granted, she does have fitz on her side, but it seems like everyone else has unknowingly abandoned her. she’d finally, finally, found a team—a home—for herself. and she’s close with them, closer than she’s let anyone in for a long time. and she’s hiding again in her own skin.

sooner or later, she’ll screw up and lose control. she doesn’t know how much damage she’ll cause. sooner or later, they’ll have to know. sooner or later, her father will come looking for her again and she’s not sure if she’ll stop him from taking her then.

sooner or later, she’ll let this home go.

she never deserved them anyways.

⋆ saturday, july 19th: daily - pick a title (“those crimson eyes” from @gigi_hyperfresh)

jade had gone foraging in the woods behind her house on many occasions before, but had never run into danger until now. just a couple feet off from her is a lone coyote, or wolf, or other dog of some sort - it stares at her with blood red eyes, completely motionless. her heart freezes over with fear as she carefully backs out, each crunching leaf as loud as a drum to her ears. when the canine makes no move to follow, she turns around completely and starts walking steadily back home, pockets only filled with a couple berries and nothing else. she finally exhales when the door to her home is closed and locked. not a good haul, but she felt lucky to be alive.
it takes an entire week before she feels brave enough to enter the woods again. this time, the red-eyed coyote is laying down on the forest floor, licking its paws. it glances up to glare at her for a second, and her breathing hitches for the briefest second. she continues to pretend not to notice it, continuing her search for mushrooms, and eventually the coyote goes back to cleaning itself. by the time the sun starts to set, she’s almost forgotten about him. almost - the tension stays on her shoulders like string pulled too tight until she’s stepped out of the trees.
the third time she finds him, she’s no longer surprised. after all, this was his home and she was merely a guest. they don’t regard each other at all this time, jade doing her own business and the coyote minding his. it felt right to share the space, without either being hostile - she had no need for a live animal of any kind, and he wanted nothing to do with a human. on her way out, she spares one last glance at his eyes - bright crimson, but not filled with malice or evil. more weary, tired.

daily - july 19
206 words … last updated 07.019.2025

»»————-　⚜　————-««

However, you won't be writing your own title today! Instead, post a title in the comments, and then claim another person's title. Then, write a 200 word (or longer!) story using the title.

The Child of Waves
credits to froggola

Look at the Child of Waves
as she wanders aimlessly by the shore
the moon high above her head

Look at the Daughter of the Sea
mumbling in an unknown language
staring at the shifting tides

Look at the Ocean’s Youth
weeping longingly being comforted by the waters
her past was lost long ago

Listen to the village’s rumors
which say she is not human
only a shell that once had a soul

Listen to the cries of a gull
signaling the disappearance of the girl
who only comes at night

Listen the soft hums on the coast
melodies being whispered quietly
somehow comforting and nostalgic

Notice the fish gather
only after sunset,
then swim away at morning

Notice the footprints in the sand
permanently carved there
a usual path taken from a regular

Notice the growing shell collection
kids come and go to play with
but no one appears to be adding

Oh, Child of Waves
what a mystery will you be
what do you want from us?

Oh, Child of Waves
do you know something we don’t?
or are you just letting out a silent cry?

Oh, Child of Waves
we don’t know what to make of you
forever you will be a mystery

»»————-　⚜　————-««

206 words

daily : 201 words
@ -vanillamochabear-
things we're only scared of in the dark

Your eyes crinkle when you smile, sparkling in the light. Your eyes remind me of starlight. When you laugh, the corners of your lips raise. You don’t laugh often. When you do, time stands still, as if the whole world is listening. Every time, I see you in a new light.
I know you have scars, the memories you banish from your mind. We all have scars, invisible, jagged lines that we can only see when the light hits them just right. Sometimes those memories summon thoughts as sharp as glass, ripping through our facade. When the light is out, those thoughts scatter from our mind. In the darkness, it’s too easy to get lost, no lighthouse to guide us.
In the dark, everything looks different. Harmless objects–lamps, a vase of flowers, hanging lights–send shadows across the floor. We doubt our every move, cautious when we can’t see into every corner where something might be hiding. They say that shadows can’t hurt us, but the darkness has claws. We’re frightened of our own shadows. We can’t see all of ourselves, and it brings back forgotten memories, dredging the past up from dark shores. Old monsters skitter out from under our beds.

Daily #19 - I Looked Into the Eyes of a Fiend (and Saw a Friend) - title by @ap0l0 - #words

Peacefully, Haisley strolled through the dense Kurai Forest. She came whenever she needed to clear her head; especially when she wanted to escape her siblings.
She walked along, taking in the enchanting scents of the forest, and examining her beautiful surroundings with her ocean blue eyes. Her pale blue romper, which contrasted her tan skin, somehow didn't have any stains on it. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a elaborate braid.
Legend had it those who lost their way in the forest never left. But, Haisley would much rather risk that than stay at home.
One foot before the other, she kept walking. The forest seemed to curl around her, providing her with a shield from the world outside.
All of Ynesia was waiting for the Heroine to awaken. Haisley, along with the rest of the people in Kejian Castle, prayed daily in hopes of the Heroine waking up.
The, suddenly, she heard a sound that snapped her out of her thoughts: a deep, aggressive growl.
Instinctively, she reached for her silver dagger that was attached to her hip. She inched forward carefully, weapon drawn. She walked around a tree, and was met by the source of the sound.
A grey wolf stood before her. Haisley moved towards it. As she did, it moved back. But, it stumbled, whimpering in pain. The wolf met her eyes, begging her for help.
Haisley met the wolves desperate look, then her eyes drifted down to its front leg. It was wounded.
“Oh, you poor thing!” she exclaimed, racing up to it.
She gently knelt before it, holding out her hands. It walked up to her, and wisely placed its leg in her outstretched hands. Haisley tore a piece of cloth off the leg of her romper and wrapped it tightly around the wolf's open wound.
“Is that better?” she asked it.
It happily licked her cheek before running off, deeper into the woods.
Haisley stood up, dusted herself off, and kept walking, grateful for the sweet encounter with the wolf.

daily
Saturday, July 19, 2025
436 words

The title of the story is often what attracts the reader's attention and gives them an idea of what the book may be about. However, you won't be writing your own title today! Instead, post a title in the comments, and then claim another person's title. Then, write a 200 word (or longer!) story using the title. Doing so will earn you 200 points, and an additional 100 if you share proof.

(My title was not claimed.)

A Story About Turtles, in Which the Titular Animals, Who Originate from Earth, Are Chosen by the Chaotic Forces of the Universe to Grow to Enormous Proportions and Swim Off Into Space, Henceforth Leading the Chelonians on an Interstellar Adventure in Which They Participate in a Game of Asteroid Kickball, Accidentally Casting an Apocalypse Down Upon a Distant Planet Whose Inhabitants They Then Must Evacuate by Giving Them Rides on Their Massive Carapaces, Except They Try to Take Their Passengers Back to Earth and the Earthlings Are Too Freaked Out About the Giant Turtles to Be at All Helpful in Welcoming the New Guests, so the Turtles, Who Are Too Big to Land On the Planet Without Causing Further Destruction, Are Forced to Invent Spacecraft that Can Carry the Passengers Safely to the Surface of Earth, and the Hardship of Trying to Invent Such Complicated Things Without the Assistance of Thumbs Proves to Be Quite a Learning Experience for Everyone Involved, but I, Your Wise and Humble Author, Will Not Spoil Exactly How They Solve This Conundrum Just Yet Since This is Still Technically the Title, Even Though It Has Basically Covered the Entire Plot of This Story About Turtles

(I claimed “last seen never” by @taylorsversion–.)

It’s quite a pain to be invisible.
Not only does everyone forget you’re there, but they don’t even care about you. Like, logically, they know you exist, but because they have no way of visualizing you, they don’t think of you as a person. You’re a gust of wind or some music playing in the background, something that briefly passes through but can never be solid, can never be held. If you speak or touch or move, it’s not because a person did those things, but rather some abstract force of nature.
At least you can still interact with objects. You suppose that’s the one reminder that you’re not imaginary, or a ghost, or something. So you decorate your room with all of the colors you wish you knew how to be. A vase of yellow flowers on a little red table. Bedsheets in wavy stripes of green and brown. Purple lights around your mirror—why do you even have that—and blue wallpaper.
But what if you left that all behind? It wouldn’t be hard. You could keep walking, down the street and out of town. No one would stop you. What would change if you disappeared, not just from sight, but completely? The flowers would wilt and the sheets would go unwashed, but the mirror would remain just as empty as it ever was. Would anyone even notice?
Were you ever even there to begin with?


table of contents

July 20th Daily.

As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade, and when the Elements of Literature Spinner gives you four random elements of literature, mix them all together in a new unique story. Today we’ll be revisiting the Elements of Literature Spinner to inject some randomness into our lemonade— I mean, stories. For 250 points (and an additional 50 for sharing), write 350 words incorporating your fresh picked elements into a delicious new blend.

Archetype: Orphan
Genre: Dystopian
Setting: Economic Hub/Workplace


Stylistic Device: Cliffhanger

All the news would play now was more footage of arrests in Kane City, more riots, more crackdowns. There were dozens of new defectors a day, and even more Enforcers to hammer them down. It was never a question of whether the defectors did anything wrong. It was always clear, by virtue of some authority, that the way the Enforcers conducted their business was the way they conducted their business, and that was that, so the populace could go about their day unassuming of consequence. After all, it was easier to act normal than it was to realize the utmost danger each and every citizen was in.
Ray Garcia, a short, weathered man in his early twenties, flickered off the news channels and returned to his desk. Artificial lights hung from the ceiling, bearing down the only light in the long, dismal room in such a way that each workspace had a personal spotlight, as if each were part of a stage play.
At the other side of the room, Ray could make out the shape of an Enforcer, wearing the standard-issue uniform and carrying one of those microblasters that the Corpos had plastered over the news as of late. He’d seen plenty before, but this was a strange sight, as NewCorp employees were rarely hassled by them the way the working class were. It was a curious sight, and he briefly pondered why the Enforcer was there.
Whatever the case, Ray got back to work. NewCorp has work to be done, and he had to do it. He had to provide for himself–he’d learned to do that ever since he was little, due to the absence of his parents. They were hauled off to an internment camp, presumably because of their heritage, although Ray was too young to know at the time. All that mattered then and now was looking after himself. Nothing else.
“Misrell’s gonna be furious,” said the worker on his right. “Enforcer’s coming in, and you know Misrell, how proud he is..”
Ray nodded, acknowledging his boss’s vituperative personality. He tried not to stare at the Enforcer at the end of the hall.
The Enforcer was walking towards him.

The Enforcer stood five feet away from his desk, one hand clutching cuffs, the other the microblaster.
“My name is Officer Gideon Green. How was your breakfast this morning, Mr. Garcia?” asked the Enforcer. Ray replied with a shrug, and concentrated on his paperwork.
The Enforcer laughed. “See, that’s what I find funny about you NewCorp types. You act like you’re above it.”
“Above what?” Ray asked.
The Enforcer laughed again. “The law,” he replied.
Stricken with nervous confusion, Ray said: “All due respect, I don’t presume myself above the law. If I’ve come across that way, I’m terribly sorry.”
The Enforcer stopped laughing. He narrowed his eyes. “If you want,” he said, “we can add Wilful Deception of an Officer and Obstruction of Justice to your charges.”
“Charges?”
“All you NewCorp types play dumb about them. But we know you’re a part of it.”
“I don’t understand-”
“Ray Garcia, please step away from the desk. By the Federal Enforcement Authority, you’re officially under arrest based on the charges of-”
He didn’t finish his sentence, because the sound of a slamming door obstructed his speech. Ray could see a furious Misrell marching towards both of them.
“Handling my employees now, aren’t you? We pay you in droves to keep you quiet, and now the FEA goes behind my back too? You’re not pulling this behind my back!”
As Misrell ripped into him, the Enforcer’s attention was turned from arresting an innocent man towards consoling an angry boss. As he was distracted, Ray slipped away and started running. Running from a fate he didn’t deserve.

Gideon held a singular truth to his heart: there were two things that truly mattered in the world. The first was ambition, and the second was fulfilling it. He knew when he watched the crusaders slay the terrorists overseas that it was his job to become a glorious hero on the homefront and dispose of the filth that plagued Kane City. He’d receive decoration, commendation, and platitudes. He’d achieve all there was to achieve, and the way to do that was to be the greatest enforcer that ever lived. He would clean up Kane City, no matter how many people he had to kill for it.
The only deterrent now was this new fugitive. He’d had those elude his capture before, and he would solve this as he’d solved them. A textbook case. Ray Garcia was one of the most wanted criminals in the city–he would bring him in and he’d become the most decorated Enforcer in history. That was all there was, and the only thing in his way was the irritations that Ray Garcia was causing this very moment.
Gideon withdrew a tracker and a walkie talkie, briefly muttered “secure all exits,” and ran to the stairwell. The trap was set. There’s no escape.
The only way to go was up.

Gideon could tell by the tracker that Ray was on the fourty-fifth floor, running. Gideon was on the thirty-ninth.
He bolted to the stairwell and started the climb.

Ray ran through vacant office space across the forty-fifth floor, scrambling for a place to hide. Several bureaucrats shot funny looks at him, and some were authentically disgruntled.
The stairwell door kicked open and The Enforcer ran in, firing several shots from the microblaster at Ray. Windows shattered around him and he dove behind a desk. Splinters flew and wood shattered as he felt a barrage weigh down from behind the wooden structure. An aluminum lamp fell beside him.
“Failure to comply with authority results in termination,” the Enforcer said. “Which in this case, makes my job easier.”
Ray grabbed the lamp and chucked it straight at the Enforcer’s head, hitting it dead on the mark. The Enforcer cried out in pain. Seizing his chance, he bolted for the elevator and shut the door with haste.

He made it to the roof, and ran to the edge. Panting, looking down, Ray realized how high up he was, and how trapped he seemed to be. He pondered his crime with the knowledge of his innocence, and his conclusion was that of cold futility in an empty world.

The Enforcer had arrived, pointing his microblaster at Ray’s chest.

“It doesn’t make a difference whether I execute my mission dead or alive, Mr. Garcia. I was trying to show you mercy.”
“What’s merciful about any of this?!” Ray shouted. “You terrorize me at my workplace, hunt me down, shoot at me–”

“You resisted an authority and failed to comply,” the Enforcer said.

“But I didn’t do anything!” Ray shouted.

Gideon shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

He took the shot.

Ray plummeted fifty stories to his death.
There were no screams of horror from the populace when he hit the ground. Everybody carried on around him. He gasped one last sigh of breath, and then died. From the roof, Gideon lowered his microblaster and walked away.


Words: 1180

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July 20th Daily
prompt: survivor || economic hub || poetry || cliffhanger

There's no point to this.
The endless schemes, endless lies, endless betrayals.
I cannot survive in a place like this.
But I can't even find a job renewal.

The workplace is one hell of a place.
A place where I didn't even want to be in.
A place where I can't even work at my own pace.
A place where I can no longer sleep in.

I want to quit, I want to resign.
I never want to step foot in this place ever again.
But if I resign, how can I afford to write my next line?
My family will starve without my gains.

Day by day, I try to plan my escape.
My family listening to my plans, we were sick and tired of this life.
No matter what people thinks, I am just trying to fill the plates.
So we can survive together as a family, my kids, myself and my wife.

My phone started to ring, I refused to pick it up.
I knew it was from my boss, asking why I didn't turn up for work.
My presence was never required in work, yet so much pressure is filling my cup.
But I was always there, because I wanted to be useful, but all I received from my boss instead was hurt.

Work was never easy, every day was suffering.
No breaks, 9 whole hours.
No lunch, no rest, no recovering.
We have no say. The decision was never ours.

This is what made me leave, the reality of work is scary.
The possession of power changes someone's mindset entirely.
The ability of earning cash is horribly tempting, which makes one greedy.
The idea of that terrifies me, and haunts me deeply.

“Dad, how much longer do we have to run?”
My youngest child asked, his face was pale under the streetlights.
“It's okay. We'll find the next train out of this place. We will get out of this mess one day. You go have fun.”
I hated lying to my kids, but I want them to be happy and filled with delight.

They ran off to the nearest playground, chasing each other across the park.
We just sat at the benches, looking at them in the distance.
Over at the other end of the roads, we can hear a dog bark.
We were safe for now, as we lay under the snow falling with a dance.

My former boss had stopped calling me.
He seemed to have taken in the fact of my resignation.
I breathed a sigh of relief, finally feeling free.
That's when the dogs stopped barking. Someone was headed for our destination.

A dark, tall figure approached us slowly.
All of a sudden, I felt chills down my spine.
“You think you can get away from us that easily?”
The voice I dreaded to hear for the past week, belonging to that old boss of mine.

I want to run, call the police for harassment.
But he just laughed, his voice echoed through the chilly night air.
“Oh, how silly. We had to go through this arrangement…”
“Now, choose. Your life, or their lives. A trade so fair?”

He pointed towards two small figures beside him.
My wife gasped, clutching my arm. It didn't help with the fact I was already feeling nauseous.
“Should've thought of this before you left? Can't believe we hired someone so dim.”
I know, I cannot risk my children's lives. I should've been more cautious.

“What's the deal? I cut away their potential in their future lives, or you come back to me?”
My children, my bundles of joy. I cannot lose them, but I got cornered.
I need a distraction, so I have to find a way to get us all to flee.
“Go ahead. I could never be bothered.”

635 words

Survivor - script - away from home - in media res

EXT. BOAT DECK - EVENING
VIVANNE is on the deck, clutching the railing of the boat, her hair flying in the wind. She is wearing the outfit of a peasant woman, a ragged brown dress with a thin coat covering her bare shoulders. The boat is leaving the port. MADELEINE is waving at Vivanne on shore.

MADELEINE
(shouting)
Mademoiselle Chambon- Vivanne… have a safe trip! May God protect you!
VIVIANNE
Thank you! Thank you for all your help! May our friendship never be ruptured even with an ocean between us!
VIVANNE watches as the ship sails towards the ocean, away from the coast. Her grip tightens around the railing, her face troubled.
JEAN arrives near VIVIANNE.
JEAN
Mademoiselle Chambon, I'm going in the cabins to store our luggage. You may join me whenever you wish.
VIVIANNE
Yes, thank you. I will stay here for a bit, I need some fresh air.
JEAN bows and leaves with the suitcases.
Once JEAN is out of sight, a SAILOR arrives and brutally pushes VIVIANNE aside.
SAILOR
What are ye doin' ‘ere on yer own, eh, pretty? Where’s yer ‘usband?
VIVIANNE
(startled)
He is in the cabins. I will be joining him in a few moments.
SAILOR
(mocking)
Aye, ye don’t need to join ‘im, I know for one that ye’ll be much welcome in our compartments.
SAILOR winks and walks off laughing, leaving VIVIANNE is wary and startled.
VIVANNE gazes at the coastline.

DISSOLVE TO:
FLASH BACK:
INT. BEDROOM - EVENING
VIVIANNE, dressed in her nightclothes, is sitting at her desk, gazing out at the carefully manicured garden below. A knock sounds and MOTHER comes in.
MOTHER
(softly)
Vivianne, dear? You've been incredibly pale lately.
VIVIANNE
My mother… It is always you who notices everything.
MOTHER
Of course I do, I always see when my precious daughter is unwell.
MOTHER draws a chair and sits by VIVIANNE.
MOTHER
Now tell me what has been bothering you. You know mother wants only the best for her darling daughter.
VIVIANNE
…It's nothing mother, perhaps the… lack of sunlight these cloudy days is what makes me appear so pale. Other than that I am as well as ever.
MOTHER
Are you so sure, Vivianne? You haven't been speaking much recently, is there not something on your mind?
VIVANNE
No, my mother, I would confide in you if I had worrisome thoughts.
MOTHER
Ah, well then, I wish you a good night. See you in the morning.
VIVANNE nods and stands up to curtsy as MOTHER leaves. She watches her as MOTHER leaves by the door. Tears find their way to her eyes, and she stands very still as they blurr her vision then cascade down her cheeks. For her mother had no way of knowing that this would be the last time she ever saw her daughter.
END OF FLASHBACK
CUT TO:
VIVIANNE takes a last look at the continent she left behind, and starts towards the stairs descending into the cabins. She has to clutch a pole to stabilise her footing, the other hand pressed over her heart and brows furrowed.
(514 words)

Daily July 20th
385 words
skeptic - dystopian - a place related to family - start in the middle one

Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I see a drop of blood drip down Elika’s neck.
“Hand me the scepter. Now.” Greta hisses.
“Don’t do it!” Elika yells, “I’m not worth it!”
“Give it or I’ll kill her! I’m not lying!”
On a normal day, I would be skeptical, caring Greta’s bluff but today, I know she’s serious. And I can’t lose Elika.
“Don’t give the scepter!” Elika yells, “I’m not worth it.”
I look around at what used to be my childhood home. I had grown up here. And Greta was slowly destroying it.
“Run!” Elika yells.
“No!” I insist. “I’m not letting you die! You think you’re doing this for the greater good but you’re not!”
I walk over to Greta and show her the scepter. “Release Elika and I’ll give you the scepter.” I say.
Greta cackles. “I’m not dumb, Miri. Give me the scepter and I’ll give you Elika.”
I stomp my foot. “I highly doubt that. Give me Elika and I’ll give you the scepter.”
Greta rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
She pushed Elika in my direction. “Now, give me the scepter or I will cause fire to rain over Edorif.”
I thrust the scepter into Greta’s hands.
“Now get out of here!” I yell, “Take your stupid fairy powers and get far, far away from Elika and I.”
“Gladly.” Greta says and teleports away.
“Why did you do that?!” Elika yells, “I had an escape plan!”
“Now get out you didn’t,” I insisted, “You were trapped.”
“Well you should not have given her the scepter!”
I roll my eyes. “Do you think that in that dumb. The scepter was a fake. Duh.”
“O-oh. But Greta will open the gates to Ghakd and fire will pour when she realizes!”
“I know,” I say with a sigh, “Which is why you need to listen to me, okay?”
Elika nods, her blue eyes darkening.
“Run out of the village and to the evacuation center and warn them of Greta. Then go to Ting Lam’s house and get all the elders assembled. Tell them what happened and get the army ready. We will stop Greta before she realizes that the scepter was fake.”
“I have faith in you.” Elika tells me, “Hopefully I don’t end up regretting it. Or else we all might die.”

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

i. “i used to laugh without wavering and smile without forcing it.”

⋆˚✿ day 20
what i left behind . sci-fi . 756

i. running away is a coward’s game of foolish mistakes and trivial selfishness. running is understanding that there will be things you leave behind and things you will never look back upon of your own accord, if only to move onwards with your life and leave the remnants of your buried past behind.

Calista,

I’m exhausted.
Not the way that sleep can fix, but the way that seeps into your bones and carries a weight heavier than the crown of a head so bent beneath the burden of pretending to be fine.
Life has its own way of proving people, both wrong and right and in the most complicated ways. People say we all change, yet I don’t think that’s true. Change is an impossible possibility. Instead, we grow up. We break down. We get quiet. But the core of what we are, who we were and who we always will be, is still there, just quieter beneath the static of the ever-changing evolution of who we are as people.
I used to be brighter. Used to glow, used to burn vividly enough to believe it. I used to laugh without wavering and smile without forcing it.
Now, I feel as though the light within my body has been blown out, a candle once burning firmly through the night now left extinguished, the only traces the flame was ever there being the smell of smoke and ashes. Now, I hesitate. I falter and I wince and I’ll call it maturity, even though I know it isn’t- it’s fear. It’s the exhaustion of remaining upright and standing without collapsing onto my knees, flowers blooming in my lungs and blotting out my breath.
I’m tired of standing here and allowing the world to crumble beneath our grasp. I’m tired of watching as we are forced to relive our longing to be freed while our bodies are chained to the land that was once ours. There is nothing left for us here, and there is nothing left of here.
You’ve always told me that running is a neverending cycle of both cruelty and shame, neglecting those you leave behind and abandoning them without looking back. But maybe sometimes, running is a way of continuing on to triumph through the tears of blood that the clouds cry. Maybe running is forging a path for others that they cannot see themselves. Maybe, running is a sacrifice made to benefit others.
Maybe, running is what I’ll do.
Not because I want to leave- because I want you to stay.

With all my love,
Aislia

ii. loyalty, above all other means of trust and devotion, may be the most dangerous supplement of all. loyalty, much like love, is a powerful weapon that may be yielded at any time, for any deed. loyalty may be the most common strength of all, and perhaps that is what makes it such a lethal weakness.

Pixie, Link, and Fern,

I hate knowing you would follow me to the ends of the earth, and yet it is still my most treasured and comforting notion. Knowing that there are people willing to protect me is invaluable.
And yet, there comes a point in time where I wonder if walking into the sun with others by your side will burn with a ferocious flare, a sparking spike of your innermost fears and guilt eating away at your flesh, rather than bursting with the painless warmth of skin brushing skin.
I wonder if, by allowing you to grow attached to the soulless being that is me, I am sentencing you to a doomed eternity of utter void, basking in darkness only the stars can break up.
If I were to walk to the ends of the earth, would you follow without a falter? Would you endure the brambles sinking deep into the bare flesh beneath your feet, the restlessness that has seeped within your bones, the blood and the tears dripping from your eyes as you watch the world around us go up into flames?
I don’t want you to spend your lives devoted to anybody but yourselves. I don’t want you to feel as though drowning hand-in-hand with someone you love will lessen the blow of the terror contained within each bubble, straying slower until your eyes flutter shut.
But all the same, I still wonder: is it better for me to burn to numb the scorches of others, or to feel the flames kissing my skin while knowing I am in the hands of those I love?

Love,
Aislia

*wip

Daily 20
Mentions of violence, blood/gore and also romance

Elements: Warrior, Romance, Away from Home, Flashback

Based on the Powerless Trilogy by Lauren Roberts <3

I rested my head against the gnarled trunk of the tree, the rain hammering down on me, my glinting silver hair sodden, plastering against my face. Blood trickled from an ugly wound in the side of my head.
“Pae!”
The King of Ilya loomed over me, peering at me underneath dark lashes.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked incredulously. “I told you to stay inside the castle.”
A mixture of sorrow and rage surged through me.
“How could I stay inside when the Elites are slaughtering my own people? They weren’t supposed to go against your will. They weren’t supposed to force my own people against me.” I exclaimed. I felt so torn. My people - the Ordinaries - they had had enough of the Elites bossing them around. They started slowly, but surely going against the rules set out for them. And the Elites - despite the peace that me and Kai created, where Elites and Ordinairies lived in harmony - hadn’t changed a bit, They continued to laugh at and mock the Ordinaries. And they were sick of being taunted by those ‘lower’ than them so they had attacked. The Ordinaries fought back. And here I was on their battlefield.

It had been one battle.

It lasted for 6 days.

And the Elites won.

The Ordinairies still hated me. They felt betrayed that I was engaged to Kai Azer, the King of Ilya, who was Elite. And the Elites hated me for being Ordinary.

Kai sat down next to me and slipped his hand into mine. I tried to ignore the butterflies that still tingled through me at his touch and instead focus on the fact that there was a war going on.
“It’s fine, Pae. It’s going to be fine.”
Tears stung in my eyes.
“They attacked me, Kai. They hate me.”

The memory flashed through my mind. The Ordinaries hurtling across the battlefield. The swords clashing with each other, the mob of people that advanced on me, that I had to fight off.

“It will all be over soon.”
His lips brushed mine softly. I ran my fingers through his hair. Kai was my only anchor to the world now. The only thing that kept me going, forced me to wake up every morning.
It felt wrong, tangled up in his arms, soon-to-be queen of Ilya, when there were battles and uprisings going on everywhere. And there was nothing I could do. I could continue to give speeches to the Elites and the Ordinaries. But I would never be accepted by either of them.

Kai tilted my head upwards to face him.
“It’s going to be fine, Pae.”
My lip wobbled. I missed my old life. Everything was so simple. Just me and Adena in Loot. Not in this strange world that I had lived in for almost a year now, but still felt unfamiliar in the worst possible ways.

Adena is splayed out on the ground in front of me, her crooked bangs drooping across her face. A branch impaled through her chest.

Blair.

I rush to Adena, fear spiking through me. She can’t die. Not now. Not ever. Those familiar eyes find mine and I break. Tears stream down my face.

She’s telling me to wear the green vest that she made. I promise her I will. I can feel her slipping away. I tell her to hold on. She can’t leave me.

But she does. And my whole entire world collapses.

“Well, well, well… Whoever do we have here? Kai Azer… and Paedyn Gray.”
Blair stood in front of us, a smirk painted on her face. Her lilac hair fell in waves around her shoulders. Disgust clouded my mind. She had killed her. My sister. She had plunged that branch through Adena’s chest and watched her die.

I scrambled to my feet, my fist colliding with her face. Blair simply smiled wider.
“Oh, you’ll regret that.”
She drew her knee into my belly. I stumbled back, even more determined to get her. I launched myself at her, my hands finding my sword and pulling it from its sheath. I hit her head with the hilt and watched with satisfaction as she crumpled to the ground, a crimson river seeping from her forehead.

I drew the sword up against her neck, ready to finish her.

“Don’t.”


Kai’s voice cut through my anger. But it didn’t stop it.

“Why?” I cried, my voice cracking. “She murdered Adena? A life for a life.”
Kai shook his head. “You’re becoming as bad as her if you kill her. You can’t.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“I have to.”
“No, you don’t.”

“I have to, Kai. You hear me? I have to.”

I pressed the sword against her neck.

Blair gave a strangled scream.

I stepped back slowly. I couldn’t do this. I was turning into a monster.

All of a sudden, Blair was up against me, my sword in her hand.

“Goodbye, Paedyn.”

Everything. Went. Black.

Weekly 1 - Theme
Total Words Written: 3519/1500
Part 1: 268/200
Part 2: 580/150
Part 3: 1623/350
Part 4: 1048/800



Part 1
I always regard worldbuilding as my “speciciality”, specifically city worldbuilding (or like. settlement worldbuilding in general) because I am one obsessed future civil engineer / city planner! And uh. Cities do be my life. Anyways, my idea in this workshop would be to walk you through creating your own settlement and fleshing it out - who lives there? Who visits? Where is it? This would focus on the more small-scale aspect of worldbuilding, rather than the large because that’s often neglected. Or at least, I think it is!

Anyways enough of a partial Skylar Ramble Session, time to continue outlining my idea! My idea for this weekly, as I’ve said before, would be something focusing on more small-scale worldbuilding where you flesh out a location your character will be in - perhaps a settlement, a town, or just a place where people are. The first part of the weekly will involve some brainstorming - thinking about the scale of your settlement, do you want it large or small? What’s the time period like? Is it in the future, in the present, or in the past? The second part will involve fleshing it out a bit more. What public services does it have? Is it influenced by a government, or is it independent? Then for the third part it would involve creating a character (or characters) and writing about how they live in the place, incorporating aspects of worldbuilding that you’ve already built up. Finally, the fourth part is going to be focused on writing a story set in this location, and all the worldbuilding aspects that were learnt about in the weekly!



Part 2
Introduction
Hiya everyone, and welcome to my wonderful weekly all about worldbuilding! But wait- Skylar, didn’t we already have a worldbuilding weekly? Like, last session? Well - to that I say, yes we did, but this one is going to focus on something completely different that I so absolutely love: worldbuilding settlements! In this weekly, you’re going to learn all about small-scale worldbuilding and how that can be incorporated into your writing.

For this weekly, feel free to either establish a completely new world or pick a world you’ve already been working on to flesh out further!

Part 1 - Brainstorming and Vibe
For the first part of this weekly, you’re going to do some brainstorming! Regardless of if you’re starting with a world completely from scratch or fleshing out a world you’ve already got, make sure you start by doing some brainstorming. Create a completely new location, or choose an underdeveloped bit of your world to flesh out - it could be anything from a small town to a large city, or a hamlet in the middle of nowhere. Ask yourself the following questions: what time period or genre is this set in? What significance does this location hold? Is this location part of a country or government? What’s the environment like around this location? What does it look like? Does it fall under any aesthetics? For this section, write at least 200 words brainstorming the general vibe location.

Part 2 - Fleshing it out
Now that you’ve got the basics of your settlement down, it’s time to flesh it out more! Now you’ve got the general vibe of the location down, it’s time to flesh your location out! It’s about the little details here - and make sure to build more than you’ll think you need! You can always leave things out of the story, but if there’s a bit that the reader doesn’t understand, they’ll be confused and we don’t want that! Before starting this section, please read the workshop (found below) so you can get an idea of how you can approach this section!

Then, write at least 200 words of brainstorming fleshing out this location using the tips you learnt in the workshop!

Part 3 - Creating a Character
Now, having a settlement is all well and good, but what about the characters who live there? Your settlement should have people, even if it’s currently abandoned. For this section, create a character biography of at least 200 words for a character who lives there. Include their name, their role in the community, and and their personality.

Part 4 - Tying it together
Finally, you’ve reached the last part of this weekly! To finish it off, you’ll need to write a short story of 200 words incorporating the character you made in part three, and the settlement you’ve built and fleshed out in parts one and two.

Conclusion
Yippee doodles! You’ve read the end of this weekly and congrats! I hope you’ve learnt a lot more about worldbuilding, and now to finish off the weekly this was made for, and beeline for those delicious points, ensure that you have:
- Written at least 200 words of brainstorming the general vibe of your settlement
- Written at least 200 words fleshing out your settlement
- Written at least 200 words of a character biography for someone who lives in the settlement
- Written a short story of at least 200 words tying together everything that you’ve learnt

Your weekly should be a total of at least 800 words.



Part 3
A Guide to Worldbuilding Settlements
Hiya everyone, and welcome to my weekly workshop on worldbuilding settlements! Sure, there are other bits of worldbuilding that are important, such as the large-scale things, but I’d argue that knowing how to worldbuild a settlement are just as important!

But why care about settlements? Oftentimes, they seem insignificant in place of the wider story, but I’d argue that the ability to worldbuild settlements is quite an important skill to learn! Not just because I am one heck of an obsessed, crazy, future civil engineer who has watched too many Cities: Skylines videos. Well, a settlement is the most likely place your main character will be able to meet and interact with other characters - yes, even on a long and epic quest. Even if it may play a really insignificant part in your overall plot, having a fleshed out settlement for your character to pass through will add a lot more depth to your story and your world. Of course though, you don’t have to delve this deep into every settlement your character will pass through, depending on how long your character spends there.

No matter if you’re building up a large, bustling city or a small, quiet town, worldbuilding settlements can get pretty overwhelming with the amount of things that need to be built up. I find that worldbuilding can be a very non-linear process *coughs* Sunshine Bay *coughs* and that I am usually making things up as I go along. Remember that there is no single “right” way to worldbuild, all ways are good ways if they work for you! But I also like to follow a general pattern of starting big and zooming in, and the following are things I usually consider when building my own settlements.

The Big Picture
To start off, it is always a good idea to think about the big picture. What’s the general vibe you’d like to go for? What’s the settlement’s importance to the central government, or another political power? How does this fit into the rest of your world?

Once you’ve thought about these questions, you’ll have figured out the big picture of your settlement. Keep this big picture in mind as you flesh out the settlement; these are going to be the pillars or the settlement.

Politics
What is the political scene of your settlement like? Politics will always affect your settlement, no matter how small. You might think that politics wouldn’t affect a small settlement, or even an anarchist city, but even a small settlement will still be influenced by politics. Would tax be collected? How does the politics of neighbouring countries or the wider country affect the people of this settlement? Do people hold any strong political opinions - or is there no news at all? If the settlement is dystopian, what sort of information is withheld from the general population? Politics will affect every part of a settlement, even if it doesn’t seem like it would.

Public Services
Another thing I like to think about when worldbuilding any kind of settlement is what the public services are like. Now, of course this may simply come from me being absolutely fascinated by the public sector and also wanting to work in it in the future, but I think public services are highly important aspects that often get overlooked when worldbuilding. The public services your city has (or doesn’t have) will affect the daily lives of the people. If the bus doesn’t run on time, more people would likely cycle, walk, or take the car. If healthcare isn’t up to standard, disease may run rampant in your settlement. If people don’t get quality education, there may be high crime.

Culture
Another thing to think about when worldbuilding is the culture! What sort of culture exists? What are the values of the people who live there - is it in line or different from the norms outside the settlement? Culture can really affect how a settlement develops, or how different suburbs of a city can view each other. For example, in a culture that values hard work, you might find that shops are open late because the office workers have long office hours. Or in a culture that values respect and integration, there might be a huge diverse group of people living in one area yet all sharing one identity.

The Geography/Location
Yet another part of worldbuilding that I feel is often overlooked is how geography affects the growth of a settlement. Sure, okay, you may have dropped the subject but I still think it’s a highly important thing to consider when worldbuilding. How hilly or flat your city is, what natural hazards it experiences, where it’s located, will all, to some degree, affect how your settlement has developed. If your settlement is found high up in the mountains, then it’s probably extremely isolated and has a small population with a tight-knit community. Or, if your settlement is found in the middle of important trade routes, then it will likely be a bustling location. If the settlement is in an earthquake prone area, think about how frequent earthquakes affect the local population.

Also, when I talk about geography, I don’t just mean the natural geography that surrounds your settlement. Human factors, such as trade routes and other things, can also influence your settlement. If it’s highly rundown, due to another factor (such as lack of public services) then not many people will live there. Or if it’s a centre of political power or trade, then think about how immigration would affect your settlement.

Other things to consider
Those are really the key things I think about whenever I’m worldbuilding, but you can also consider other things such as the history of the location. When was your settlement built? Is there new stuff built surrounding the old or has everything been left to ruin? Of course, this guide is by no way extensive and you can go as deep as you like; I usually end up just going with the flow of things. There is no right way or wrong way to go about worldbuilding. Build your world how you see fit!

In addition, you could also draw up a map of your settlement (if it’s small enough; it has been attempted and failed with Sunshine Bay, ahaha) to help visualise where things are, or create a moodboard and do some research to get more into the vibe.

Also, if you’re really into anything and are a nerd or have an interest in any part of public service, governance, architecture, etc. feel free to take a deep dive into that section and flesh it out a lot. Use what you know and expand on it to make your settlement fee more in depth - and it’ll feel fun while you’re doing it too, because you’ll basically just be dumping all the info you love so much.

Finally, don’t be afraid to take inspiration from the things that surround you. Use them, steal them, change them - I’ll admit that Sunshine Bay is a lot of blatant ripping off from London and also a lot of references. Taking inspiration (or outright using) the things that exist in the real world around you can be a great way to enhance your world and work off something that already exists. Using a framework can be more helpful than working from scratch.

An Example - Sunshine Bay
You may (or may not have!) heard about Sunshine Bay, a worldbuilding project that I dragged Hope into about… two years ago! We have been on an absolutely wild ride together and it was built in very much a non linear fashion.

The first thing that got worldbuilt was mainly surface level stuff, the city name, the era (modern), and the rough location which was never specified but it was on the east coast of a country. Then, I started worldbuilding the public services, specifically healthcare because back then I was a nerd about this stuff so that’s what got developed first! The next thing that came was (I believe) the metro map. We were (and probably still are) in love with Mini Metro, which is what caused us to go on a ramble about public transit systems. We jumped around building things, from a rough map sketch to a finalised transport map, and to naming all the locations and streets. Even then, Sunshine Bay is still not complete!

I hope you can see from this example how non-linear worldbuilding settlements can be, and yet still come out with a detailed world.

Another example - Atoll City
Atoll City is the word I built for my weekly one last session! The way I built this world was by going from the outside in. I did a lot of rambling about the geography, then the political system in place, then finally focusing on some public services and then the general vibe of the slums. They way I created Atoll City was definitely more linear than how Sunshine Bay was constructed, and that just goes to show how vast and varied the process of worldbuilding can be.

Conclusion
And finally, I hope you learnt something about the process of how I worldbuild settlements! Always remember to use the key things, such as geography/location, culture, public services, politics, and vibe. These key things should affect how your settlement develops and grows over time, and even things such as making up a history of your settlement can help you figure out where it comes from and where it will go. And with that, this workshop is complete! I hope you had a ton of fun learning all about how we can worldbuild settlements, from the large scale cities to the small scale towns.



Part 4 - Weekly from gigi_hyperfresh
Part 1 - 299 Words
The two stories I’ve picked to combine are Project MC2 and Miraculous Ladybug. I think these two stories would work well together as they’re both kids shows and would therefore have similar tones and themes of friendship throughout. Miraculous is definitely more on the cringe side, but so is Project MC2.

Miraculous Ladybug follows the story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng as she suddenly becomes a superhero granted powers by a pair of magical earrings, and she’s also in some weird awkward love interest/secret identity love square?? fiasco with Adrien Agreste, who is Chat Noir. Their relationship is incredibly complicated and I’ve only watched like a few episodes so I am not super clear on their relationship, ahaha.

Now Project MC2 follows the story of secret agent McKeyla McAlister as she starts a new school in Maywood Glenn as part of a mission to save a prince who’s going into space, but finds friendship with chemistry nerd (okay they’re all nerds but for completeness I’ll say nerd) Adrienne Attoms, electronics engineer Bryden Bandwidth, and there’s one more person I forgot the name of who I can’t be bothered to search up right now cause I’m in the car-

For me, I’d love to see some kind of Secret Agent + Vigilante Superhero sort of thing going on with teenagers because uh. You know, these shows are for kids. The main thing I’m going to take from Project MC2 would be the whole teenage secret agent with science nerd friends thing, oh and also the classic shadowy government agency thing- yeah uh- that exists!! And from Miraculous I’m going to take the idea of superheroes, but I’m not too sure about some kind of magic objects? But definitely the teenage superheroes thing! Also they get to have an identity crisis because yes-

Part 2 - 237 words
Okay so as I said before, the general gist of this story would be that we’d have two main friend groups who’d take centre stage throughout this story. You’d have, on the MC2 side of things, Sakura Miyahira Zhuang, a teenage figure skater who is also a secret agent for the said government agency. Sakura’s friend group involves aspiring diplomat and humanities and social sciences nerd Taylor Sanderson, and general science nerd Artemisia Reagan. Sakura’s callsign/codename is Ethereal, and her primary alias is Tsuki Miyazaki. Taylor and Artemisia know about her activities as a secret agent, and are both currently being trained to become agents themselves.

On the Miraculous side of things, you’d have Nova Winters, who can bend light, and her partner Sora Carlson, who has flight abilities. Nova goes by the name Star as a superhero, while Sora goes by Crimson Hawk. They were granted their powers after a school lab accident and they were the last two out. They became friends and eventually started saving the world together because- you know! They want to do good in the world.

Meanwhile, the story will be set in a school and the main villain would be an evil chemistry teacher (not saying all chemistry teachers are evil, I have amazingly nice ones) who is currently trying to take over the world (I’m sorry I’m tired I’m speedrunning I need to write) anyways that’s about it!

Part 3 - 224 words
Okay now onto the outlining part of this! So the general plot of this would probably be a short scene as that’s all I have time to write right now, but it would be an action scene between the evil chemistry teacher and the two groups of students. Sanderson would have written some really long report regarding the chemistry teacher’s (Mr Harrison) psyche, and would have told Sakura to use it against him. While Artemisia would have tried to have camera footage erased or recorded to a different device to prevent Sakura’s secret from being leaked. Meanwhile, you’d have Nova and Sora trying their best to fight against him while Sakura’s hiding in the vents. When Sakura drops down and surprises him, she shows the two girls How It’s Done and has him taken down and on the floor within a couple of seconds. Sora and Nova would try to help, but they’d get turned down because Sakura is a complete and total professional and she doesn’t want interference. Then she gets Artemisia, who’s also in charge of comms, to call up the organisation Sakura works for and have them come take him out. Sakura would then have a Conversation with the other two girls (Sora and Nova) about Not Interfering because uh let’s be honest Sakura’s a bit of a freak like that.

Part 4 - 268 Words
Sakura was hiding in a vent. She was rather used to this stuff, but regardless. She was hiding. In. A. Vent. It never got less cramped than she was right now.

Okay. She wasn’t hiding in a vent per say, more like she was hiding in the ceiling, which… amounted to the same thing. Sakura did a quick double check of her weapons and other stuff she needed, making sure they were exactly where she expected. Finally, Sakura made sure the straps of her mask were pulled tight, as revealing to the world that she was a secret agent in addition to her somewhat well known status as a star figure skater would not be a good idea.

Lifting up a ceiling panel, Sakura peered down into the scene below. From what she had heard through the ceiling panels, she guessed that the two vigilante-superheroes, Star and Crimson Hawk, were already down there and from the looks of things, they were not doing a very good job. “I’m heading in.” Sakura said, over comms, before she dropped in through the ceiling panel.

“Where did you come from?” One of the two girls asked.

Sakura ignored her, as she took advantage of the room’s surprise to quickly take down her chemistry teacher, and started the process of arresting him. “Lewis Harrison, you’re under arrest for conspiring against the government,” Sakura said, grabbing her handcuffs from her utility belt and arresting him.

“Under whose authority?” Sakura’s chemistry teacher managed to ask.

“Under the government’s.” Sakura said, before turning her attention to the two girls. “You should learn to not interfere.”

Jinx’s daily (337 words)
Caregiver / poetry / place of comfort / stream of consciousness /

In truth, I made a mistake
I left her alone,
Without a friend,
And that was how she found her end.
Every thought tells me I was in the wrong
Every flaw,
Every regret
Tells me that this would not have happened, had we never met.
But still, in truth, I cannot, will not
Wish that to her, I had never spoken
Or healed her heart,
Or helped her speak
I could not tear her soul apart
To claim that I would leave her weak
Or lost
Or alone, without a home.
Tearfully, I must admit,
That I could not leave her without her wits
Or her dreams
Or her prayers
I am, in fact, glad, I helped repair her hearts tears.
That, I do deem, to be fair, although now,
I am lost
I am without repair.
And so, in accordance to my own mistakes,
I will tell you once again that
Every regret
Every stumble
Was fully and truthfully my own and singular fault.

My heart leaves me lost in the darkest of nights, alone and torn inside
In truth, with all my wrongs and flaws, I wish that I could hide
I am lost.
And alone.
And now, without a home.
All because of her
All because I met her.
All because I loved her.
And all because I failed to save her.

It was fully, and truthfully my own and singular fault.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry
I wish that it could have been changed.
But that is a beast that we can beat with no bane.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.
I wish I were better, that she could have been saved
But alas, that was a road that was never, ever paved.
My mistake.
My flaw.
But on the horizon, there rises a star..
A wish, that comes from afar.
And gives me hope.
My only hope.
She will return, I pray.
And so, here I will stay.
Waiting.
Waiting for her.
Because, at last, I know she will be back

⋆ sunday, july 20th: spinner daily! i got outcast - adventure - away from home - flashback

the first time lyra had felt the extent of her curse was at the ripe old age of seven.
she was on the playground in her hometown, gloves lying on the bench - her mother always told her to wear them, but every now and then she would ignore the warnings. they were itchy, thick, and it was hot outside today; plus she’d taken them off around others before and nothing bad had ever happened. what could possibly go wrong?
one moment she and her friend were laughing on the swingset, and the next, rosa had run into the grass field with little warning. lyra doesn’t want to go, but she figures it’d be awkward or rude if she hovered on the edge of the sidewalk. she follows blindly without thinking to grab her gloves.
rosa smiles, one of her front teeth missing. she hold out a perfect round daisy, and lyra’s heart fills with dread. “for you,” she says.
she turns around quickly, forcing a smile. “oh, um, thank you! but you can keep it.”
never one to take no as an answer, rosa leans in closer. “no, hold out your hand.”
so she’s forced to take the pretty flower, and it wilts to ash in her touch. her friend looks at her with fear as she awkwardly brushes the remains off her hands and back into the earth, laughing nervously.
she doesn’t think that rosa meant to spread the rumours. after all, they were only children, knowing nothing besides truths. it doesn’t stop her from feeling the pointing of fingers, or the whispers behind her back.
don’t touch her, or you’ll shrivel and die too.
witch.

she’d asked her parents about it before, but their answers were always vague.
“curse. from a witch.”
she would frown. “…why? did i do something wrong?”
her mother always hugged her tight. “no, my dear. you’re perfect.”
they’d both died before getting to explain the part where she could undo this “curse”. and you’d think the people of her town would be kind to a grieving girl, but their voices were louder than ever, glares, scorning, blaming her for their deaths. tired of her life here and not wanting to hang around the graves of the only people who had ever loved her, she sets off aimlessly into the woods.
and here she was now, not having seen a soul for something over a month. nothing but trees for miles, no idea where she is other than the faint directions given to her by the sun in the sky and the moss on the trees. she tells herself the goal of this is to find a cure, maybe a kind wizard in a tall tower who’s willing to help her out for a small price of twenty bucks.
but lyra had another goal, one she’s trying hard to bury deep in her chest. she just wants to find any trace of magic leftover in this world, maybe convince herself she isn’t an anomaly after all.

cecelia?? | july 20 daily
prompt: jester | fantasy | new place | epiphany|

—

Cecelia was both fascinated and fearful of what was around her (so she would laugh it off).
Arbor was a kingdom famous for its masquerade balls. The balls with their magical illusions, with mixed cultures, with fairies and pixies and every magical thing imaginable. So Cecelia knew she had to visit sometime.
Cecelia laughed a lot. She joked a lot. She acted really funny a lot just to be remembered. And part of her loved doing that. But the other part wished she could be someone else other than just the “funny one that everyone remembers because they did something stupid.”
In other words, Cecelia was tired of being silly, even though she loved it. How this works… I don’t really know.
Anyways, Cecelia was in this new place, which happened to be a ballroom. There were lots of balloons and people dancing and wearing really fancy and expensive masks. Cecelia adjusted her mask (it was white and had diamonds on it) and smoothed out her too extravagant dress. She watched as a couple with matching bright neon green hair waltzed past and shook her head.
Then she went to go do something silly. This happened to be tripping over her very high heels on purpose. It earned a lot of laughs, mostly amused ones (that was her goal). As she stood up, Cecelia bumped into this pixie guy. He was rather short (he was shorter than her). He glared at her. “What was that for?”
Cecelia laughed, a little forced, the sound like a bell in the air. “Sorry!” Her voice was too bubbly. Or something.
The pixie dude laughed too, maybe because he had a lot of mood swings. Then he handed her a glass of… pink orange juice? Cecelia was confused and was going to ask the pixie, but he was already gone.
“Why do you try so hard?” someone asked behind her. She whirled around, her dress floating around her (that was the only good thing about it). A DIFFERENT pixie dude stood behind her.
“What?” Cecelia asked.
“To be funny,” he said. “You don’t have to be. Just be memorable in your own way.”
“But… I am- I am funny,” Cecelia stammered. “It’s just who I am.”
“Is that all that you are?” the pixie guy raised an eyebrow.
“Well…” Cecelia hesitated. “No.”
“Then you don’t have to be only funny,” the guy amended. “Just be yourself.”
At that moment, Cecelia had an epiphany, because she just realized that she could be funny and be herself.
Apparently, that still entailed tripping over really high heels or something.

—
432 words
i have NO IDEA what i was doing here but THIS COUNTS!!!!!!!!1 i think