hazelynn's writing !!
     swc march 2026

  ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ links .ᐟ.ᐟ
࿀ magreal cabin !!
࿀ the teahouse !!

  ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ dailies .ᐟ.ᐟ
࿀ “describe your day in third person” | 278 | WIP
࿀ name/link | word count
࿀ name/link | word count

  ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ weeklies .ᐟ.ᐟ
࿀ name/link | word count
࿀ name/link | word count
࿀ name/link | word count

  ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ other .ᐟ.ᐟ
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     hazelynn ♡ she/her
    magreal ftw march 2026 !!!!!

Sunshine peaking through the window of Hazelynn's freshly cleaned bedroom, blinding her awake. Running her hand over her face, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she hauled herself out of bed. Just as she began to remake the bed, Hazelynn's mother walked in. “You're awake!” Her mother exclaimed. Yeah… she had a habit of sleeping until noon. It was 9 AM.

“Hooray…” Hazelynn muttered.

“Get dressed, we're going shopping!” Hazelynn's mother turned on the big light in her room. “We're going to the mall that's like… An hour away.”

“The one with the Barnes and Noble?!” Hazelynn suddenly woke up now. Her obsession with books, just like her two best friends, was insane. So insane, she has a 2-3 book limit whenever shopping each month. Devastating.

Her mom sighed. “Yes, that one. I'll bring up your breakfast, get ready fast.”

“YES!” Hazelynn did a victory move that you would see in video games. She immediately started staring at her closet full of clothes that practically stared back at her until she eventually just went for flare leggings and a hoodie. Her hair would not cooperate with her this morning, of course, because when would it? Never in a million years. She just left it down, since she might as well mess with it later if she wanted to. Rushing through her makeup routine, she was actually surprised it still turned out good. By good, she means average. Now, the longest part. She thinks. She grabbed one sock, odd, right? Hazelynn then puts on one shoe, her right Ugg. Then she gets out the devastating left shoe, a boot. The boot makes Hazelynn mad, it's bulkiness driving her insane.

–

Continuing later !! WIP - Current Word Count :: 278

continue collab story lol
(403 words)
(This is bad, its 6 am dont blame me LOL)

The feeling of doubt rises to her stomach as her fingers continue to grasp the rocks and edges of the cliff side. Suddenly a gun shot rings out, hitting a small rock causing it to ricochet off into the canyon. Astrid whips her head back towards the group of men now all arguing with each other, one singular man raises his gun up to the air and fires a round up high. “It's for the best Astrid!” The man yells up to her, his dark beard waving in the wind with dark eyes staring up at her.

Fingers grasp the side of the mountain as the girl climbs into a dune furrow, disappearing from the sun as the shade shadows her, the temperature instantly dropping. Fingers grasp the sandy ground of the small cave in the side of the canyon side, deep breaths spill out of her mouth from the vigarous climb. Wiping soot from her forehead, Astrid peeks her head over the edge, the men now starting a slow ascent up the wall shows up in her vision. Making sure the helicopters had disappeared, the girl pulls another grenade from her belt and gets ready to pull the pin before the sound of a sniper bangs through the air. Ducking her head, the bullet streaks right past Astrids head as she grits her teeth.

“We know you are up there!” The man yells up from his slow climb up the side, the sound of agreeing grunts follows behind him. Bringing the grenade to her mouth she pulls the pin from the top of the small green explosive before throwing it down towards the sound of the climbing group. With one loud crash, the sudden smell of gunpowder wafts up from below the indent in the cliff. Those targets down, now just the sniper to go.

Another shot rings out, sniping the roof above Astrid causing a multitude of rocks to spill down from the ceiling almost crushing the girl. Turning her head, Astrid pulls a boomerang from her vest pocket and with one calculated throw and a flick of her wrist the twisted piece of wood strikes her target from a long ways away causing the girl to pump her fist in the air. Opening her eyes from her celebratory fist pump, her eyes fall as a sigh comes out of her mouth. “How am I going to get that back now?”

{ w e e k l y o n e : s w c h a r a c t e r s w a p }
↳ Welcome, all, to the first weekly of the session! as we open a new session of SWC and start to get to know each other, it's important to get acquainted with each other's characters as well! Yes, that's what we'll be focusing on the first weekly of the session – our characters, and their shared situations. Working with first your character, and then taking care of another SWCers, you're in for a wild ride - or is it a wild exchange? Complete the weekly to experience the character chaos ;D

{ p a r t o n e : c h a r a c t e r s h e e t }
556/200 words

maia vân (“mai”)

age: 18
occupation: highschool senior, part-time barista
residence: mostly her mom’s house
ethnicity: vietnamese and greek (her mom is a first generation immigrant from vietnam while her dad has ancestry in greece and moved to america)

physical characteristics:
compact and quick-moving, like she’s always trying not to take up too much space. her hair is black, with soft caramel brown highlights (that are losing their color - she dyed her hair during the beginning of senior year with her friends, but hasn’t had time to re-dye), usually in a half-tied bun. her eyes are a muted green: not bright, softened (like a whisked matcha), a balance of calm warmth and unspoken tension. they tend to flicker away mid-conversation, as if she’s storing every detail. she carries the remnants of her mother’s accent in certain vowels, though she’s learned to smooth them out when nervous.

personality:
cautious, perceptive, always translating herself. to strangers, she seems quiet and dependable; to friends, she’s surprisingly sharp-witted, with humor that sneaks up on you. she loves small order - color-coded notes, playlists for moods - but slips into daydreams and disorder all too easily. her driving need is to prove she can belong in both halves of her world without losing either.

strengths: empathic listener, disciplined, resilient, trilingual (speaks english and vietnamese at her homes, learned french at school), gentle leader when she trusts others, very silly and chaotic - can be the life of the party at times.

weaknesses: conflict-avoidant, internalizes guilt, perfectionistic to a fault, afraid of appearing “too much.”, very self-critical

family:
parents are divorced, she mostly lives at her mom’s, but once or twice a month, she and her younger brother leo (7) stay at her dad’s.
her mom calls her mai, crisp, clipped, full of expectation.
her dad says maia, softer, western, distant.
she’s still learning which name belongs to her.
leo vân, age 7: maia’s little brother. her opposite, basically. loud, bright, and endlessly sure of himself. he talks faster than his thoughts can catch up, tells stories that stretch the truth (“what no i swear it’s true!!”), and insists that maia’s quiet is “so booooringggg”. he calls her “mai-chi” (a mispronunciation of “chi mai”) she pretends he annoys her, but she saves every drawing he sneaks into her notebooks.

hobbies and passions:
photography gives her a language beyond words. she’s drawn to reflections: rain-slicked streets, glass doors, ripples on coffee cups, because imperfection feels more honest. she also sketches loosely in the margins of her notebooks, capturing moments she doesn’t want to forget. music is another refuge; she plays guitar softly at night, learning songs from both her parents’ worlds. she even tries to blend the cultures by songwriting, but so far has disliked everything she’s written. sometimes she comes out at night through the window in her room and climbs onto her roof, watching the moon and the stars, calming herself. she loves birdwatching and noticing the differences and identifying each bird, and often finds herself sketching or taking pictures of them. she also loves reading, and getting lost in worlds completely unrelated to her world. she has an instagram account that she runs where she posts relatable content and poetry under the username @wriitten.inthestars (every post is on some sort of starry or space related background, and the text is over it)

{ p a r t t w o : m o o d b o a r d }
140/100 words

↳ link to moodboard here !!

explanation of pictures:
i chose the moon to represent mai’s hobby of stargazing, and also because the moon is mysterious hehe. there’s a bird because she loves birdwatching and also thats like exquisite photography so maybe she takes similar pictures..? :eyes: i chose the three quotes because they’re ~aesthetic~ (lol) and she does like that instagram account thing and so she would write like similar things i guess? :sobs: this made a lot more sense in my head lmao- the guitar is obviously because she plays and writes music, and the waves are because of her liking the imperfections - instead of the water being perfectly smooth, she prefers ripples. the coffee is because she’s a barista, and the desk with the computer and sketchbook is to show that she likes order, and that she’s a highschool student who needs to study (sigh studying..).

{ p a r t t h r e e : c h a r a c t e r s w a p }
878/500 words

↳ swapping with kiara (@strawberry_lemon) & link to her character sheet here!

Morrigan Rose did not get out of bed for anything less than a crisis or a couture sale.

This, unfortunately, was a crisis.

She stood at the third-floor window of Raven Row, watching the city of Magnium simmer beneath a washed-out dawn. Smoke from the factory stacks braided with the fog, turning the streets into shifting lines of gray. Somewhere down there, Noir Cat’s newest courier was slipping through alleys with a satchel full of information that did not
belong to them.

“That’s my job,” Morrigan murmured, annoyed, adjusting the cuff of her coat. The fabric fell perfectly, of course. It always did.

Behind her, the door clicked. Soft, hesitant. One of Lovelace’s newest recruits poked his head in, hat twisting in his nervous hands.

“H-Head Rose? The carriage is ready,” he stammered.

Morrigan turned just enough so he could see her profile and her displeasure.

“Obviously,” she said. “Tell Quinn I expect the back entrance to be clear. If I step in so much as a puddle, I’ll have you personally mop the entire Row with your shirt.”

He blanched and vanished. The door shut, leaving Morrigan alone with the ticking.
Clocks lined the walls of the sitting room: sleek chrome, gilded brass, intricate pocketwatches resting in velvet trays. All of them humming, measuring, reminding.
Time is expensive, Lovelace always said. Don’t waste it on doubt.

Morrigan slipped a golden pocketwatch from her coat pocket and flicked it open. The tiny raven etched into the lid stared back at her, its wings spread wide. “Thirty minutes,” she told it. “In thirty minutes, I’ll have what we need, and Noir Cat will be one step closer to extinction.”

The raven on the windowsill croaked once, as if in agreement.
Magnium’s lower districts smelled like rust and stale smoke, a far cry from the perfume-and-polish comfort of Raven Row. Morrigan moved through them like a shadow in heels, coat skirts whispering around her legs. She knew every alley, every service staircase, every delivery entrance that pretended it wasn’t a way in for people like her.

People like her. As if there were any.

The rendezvous point was an old receiving room turned lounge, the kind of place where middle-tier officials pretended they weren’t corrupt yet. The stained glass window over the door showed a cracked crown, light leaking through it in fractured colors. Cute. Subtle, if you didn’t know what you were looking at.

But Morrigan? Morrigan always knew.

Inside, voices buzzed low over clinking glasses. She didn’t bother blending in; she was the sort of presence that made space instead. Heads turned as she walked by. Some recognized the cut of her coat, the raven brooch, the sharp angle of her bob. Those people looked away fast.

At the back, by the service door, a man in a Noir Cat pin waited with a satchel on the table. He was older than she expected, with ink stains on his cuffs and the tired eyes of someone who still believed this was about ideals, not power.

“Ms. Rose,” he said, trying for smooth. “I thought Raven Row didn’t involve itself with… minor exchanges.”

She smiled, slow and slight. “We don’t,” she said. “This isn’t minor.”

He faltered just a fraction of a second. That was enough.

Morrigan sat without being invited, crossing one leg over the other. The heel of her boot tapped once against the floor, precise. “Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to slide that satchel to me. In return, you’re going to walk out of here with your reputation intact, your kneecaps unbroken, and a very strong urge to reconsider your employer.”

He snorted. “Big words from the underdog.”

“Accurate words,” she corrected. “Do you know what the government calls you behind closed doors? Noise. An inconvenience. They call us a problem.”

The man’s jaw tightened. He tried to cover it with a smirk. “And you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose?”

Morrigan leaned forward, letting the light catch her amethyst eyes. They always looked darker when she was lying. Or telling the truth. That was the fun part—no one ever quite knew.

“Oh, I never claimed to have a heart,” she said. “I’m doing this because Raven Row will be the group that pulls this city’s rotten spine out, and I don’t have time for amateurs tripping over my work. Hand me the satchel.”

For a long moment, all she could hear was the ticking clock behind the bar.

Then, with a weary sigh, he pushed the satchel across the table.

“There’s a copy,” he muttered, probably thinking it was too quiet to be heard. “There’s always a copy.”

Morrigan’s smile sharpened. “Of course there is,” she said lightly. “That’s why I know I’ll be seeing you again.”

As she stood, a raven swooped down from the rafters to land on the back of her chair, glossy feathers ruffling. It dropped a small scrap of paper onto the table—a list of names in someone else’s hurried hand.

The Noir Cat courier stared. “How did-”

“Don’t worry,” Morrigan said, fastening the satchel. “You’ll have plenty of time to ask questions. Assuming you live long enough to matter.”

On her way out, she checked her pocketwatch.

Right on time.

{ p a r t f o u r : c h a r a c t e r m e e t i n g }
x/600 words

Maia had locked the café door three times before she believed it.
Click. Jiggle. Check.
Click. Jiggle. Check.
Click—

“Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “You’re done. Go home.”

The alley behind Sunnie World Café exhaled around her: old brick, neon buzzing from the sign over the front entrance, the distant hiss of a bus on the main road. The air smelled like espresso grounds, wet cardboard, and that metallic promise of rain that hadn’t quite started yet.
She stepped away from the door and tilted her head back.

Between the fire escapes and power lines, just a slip of sky showed, smudged with city glow. A couple of brave stars punched through the haze. A scrubby maple tree had forced itself up beside the dumpster, branches reaching awkwardly toward the light. A sparrow hopped along the lowest limb, fluffing itself up against the chill.

“Hi,” Maia murmured. “You’re still here, huh?”

The sparrow blinked at her like she’d said something confusing.

Maia laughed under her breath. Her fingers twitched with the phantom weight of her camera. She’d left it at home tonight: too risky to bring to work, her mom had said. Too expensive.

Of course the most interesting light she’d seen all week decided to happen now, when she had nothing but her eyes.
The sky… glitched?

It was just above the tree, where the branches forked around a scrap of telephone wire. The air warped, a heat-haze shimmer bending the stars out of shape. For a heartbeat, the world looked like a photo being shaken, corners curled, colors separating.
Maia’s hand tightened around her keys. “That’s not-”

The shimmer tore.

Something metallic flashed. A voice snapped out of nowhere, sharp and furious and very human: “Holy fu-!”

The rest was swallowed in a thud of branches and an explosion of startled wings.

Maia yelped and stumbled back as a whole person crashed through the tree, snapped a branch, and dropped directly onto her.
They hit the pavement in a graceless pile. The impact punched all the air out of Maia’s lungs. There was a knee in her ribs, an elbow too close to her throat, a curtain of damp fabric and hair and very expensive smelling perfume.

“Ow,” she wheezed. “A little help here?”

The person on top of her groaned—an unglamorous, pained sound—and pushed up on their hands. Alley light slid across a sharp jaw, wet purple hair, wide black glasses hanging slightly crooked.

Purple. Like, aggressively purple. Not the half-faded caramel streaks Maia had been pretending still counted as dye.

“I swear,” the girl muttered, breathless, “if Quinn recalibrated that door on a hangover again, I’m going to-”

She stopped. Her gaze finally dropped to Maia’s face.

For a second, they just stared at each other: Maia pinned against cold concrete, the stranger braced above her like a very annoyed, very fashionable gargoyle.

Up close, she smelled like smoke and something expensive and floral that had never met a dumpster in its life.

“You,” the girl said, as if Maia were an especially ugly piece of trash. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

Maia’s brain wanted to agree—she wasn’t supposed to be here either, wherever “here” was—but the only thing that actually came out was a strangled, “Can’t… breathe.”

The girl blinked, as if noticing the whole “crushing another human” thing for the first time. Color rose under her freckles. She scrambled to the side, nearly slipping in a puddle, and sat down hard on the wet asphalt.

Maia sucked in air like she’d been underwater.

“Honestly,” the girl muttered, more to herself than anything. “First the tree, now the civilian. Graceful, Morrigan. Truly.”

Maia pushed herself upright, palms stinging, back protesting. “I mean,” she managed, “ten out of ten for dramatic entrance?”

The girl—Morrigan, apparently—went very still. For a heartbeat, her carefully put-together face showed something raw and startled. Then her expression rearranged itself into irritation, like someone smoothing out wrinkles in a silk dress.

“You’re fine,” she said, straightening her glasses. Water dripped from the frames. “It was a perfectly acceptable landing, given the circumstances.”
“You screamed,” Maia said before she could stop herself. “In a tree.”
“I was making an assessment.”
“Right,” Maia said. “Of gravity.”
There was a beat of silence, the neon sign buzzing extremely loudly.

To Maia’s surprise though, the corner of Morrigan’s mouth twitched. Then she pressed her lips together, as if suppressing the smile before it escaped.
The ravens arrived before Maia could say anything else.

There were three of them, at first; they swooped down to the rusted fire escape and the telephone wire, feathers slick and black against the alley’s weak light. The sparrow was gone, vanished into the city noise. The ravens stared down, heads tilted, eyes bright.

Morrigan stiffened. “Oh, good,” she said dryly. “An audience.”

She dug into the inner pocket of her coat and fished out a golden pocketwatch. It shouldn’t have gleamed in this light, but somehow it did. She flipped it open with a flick that seemed as if it was muscle memory, glanced at the face, and swore under her breath—something sharp and elegant that Maia didn’t recognize.

Maia wrapped her fingers tighter around her keys, metal biting into her palm. Her heart was doing that too-fast thing it did when a rush hit during a shift and someone complained and she smiled and apologized and wanted to disappear.

“Um,” she said. “Just to check I’m not concussed—do you normally fall out of trees behind people’s workplaces, or…?”
“Normally,” Morrigan said, snapping the watch shut, “there are fewer trees and more secret doors involved.”

She got to her feet in one fluid motion that would have been very impressive if Maia hadn’t just watched her body-slam a maple. Water rolled off her coat in little dark beads. The boots—black, heeled, utterly impractical for trash-adjacent concrete—made a sharp sound as she stepped closer.

Maia realized, with a small internal sigh, that the girl was tall. Like, why-are-you-still-wearing-heels tall. Fantastic. As if everything else tonight wasn’t already making her feel small enough.

Morrigan studied her, head tipped, the ravens above echoing the motion. “You’re local,” she said, like that was a disappointing diagnosis.

Maia’s instinct was to apologize. For existing. For being in the way. For not understanding the script.

Instead, maybe because her ribs still hurt, she heard herself say, “Yeah. This is my alley. I’m thinking of charging rent.”

A beat. One of the ravens awwked, amused.

Morrigan’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Your alley,” she repeated. “Of course. Do you also own the tree that assaulted me?”
“Technically that’s the city’s problem,” Maia said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “I just make the coffee.”
“Congratulations.” Morrigan swept a hand like she was presenting a bleak game show prize. “You’ve just been promoted to accidental interdimensional contact.”

Interdimensional? Maia blinked. “That wasn’t on my contract.”
“Few things worth doing are.”
It was the kind of grand line that would have sounded ridiculous from anyone at school. From Morrigan, dripping rain and rust flakes and whatever dignity she had left, it somehow slid into the air and stayed there.

The panic in Maia’s chest, the wild I-should-not-be-here flailing, shifted sideways. Curiosity slid into the empty space. She glanced up at the ravens, at the faint distortion still tremoring in the air above the maple, like a heat haze that hadn’t quite decided if it was staying.

“Okay,” Maia said softly. “So you’re from… somewhere else.”
Morrigan’s jaw tightened, but she nodded once. “Magnium,” she said. “Which this very much is not.”
“And you got… stuck,” Maia said, gesturing in an uncertain circle that took in the dumpster, the café door, the entire back half of her life. “Here. With me.”

Morrigan’s gaze flicked down, taking in Maia’s stained apron, frizzing hair, scuffed sneakers. For a second, Maia braced for the insult.
“Unfortunately,” Morrigan said. Then, almost grudgingly: “It could be worse.” She grimaced. “Fantastic. I am at the mercy of a girl who smells like burnt coffee.”

Maia looked down at herself, then up at Morrigan’s slicing silhouette against the neon.
“Good news,” she said. “I also make really good coffee.”
Something like the ghost of a smile finally reached Morrigan’s eyes.
“Prove it, alley girl,” she said. “If I’m going to be stranded in your world, I refuse to be under-caffeinated.”

Maia turned toward the café door, fingers already finding the keys again. Her hands were still shaking, but not only from fear now.
“It's Maia. And deal,” she said. “but you’re explaining the part where you fell out of the sky to my manager if we set off the alarm.”
Morrigan sniffed. “I face down criminal syndicates for a living. I think I can handle one disgruntled middle-aged woman.”
“You haven’t met Sandra,” Maia muttered, and the ravens, overhead, sounded suspiciously like they were laughing.

Weekly 1
Part 1 - 206 words
Almia
Age: 2107
Looks: she has tight ginger girls, pale, almost white skin, dark brown, almost red eyes, pointy ears and small fangs. She is tall, broad shouldered, and has a sharp jawline. She usually wears a dark red dress with a black cape or cloak. If it's cold outside she has a fur coat, as well as leather shoes. She has a crown of black spikes, though she rarely uses it now. She weirds a spear and dagger, and knows how to use a hunting bow.
Personality: dramatic, sarcastic. Is always brutally honest, almost never lies (although she is probably good at it). A slightly awkward loner, who has never really learned to love or be loved.
Backstory: she lives in a fiery kingdom under the earth in a fantasy world I'm building. The fire used to be spread all around the planet until water came down from space in meteors and forced the survivors to retreat in the profound depths underground. She is


Part 2 - 175 words
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1288183353/

Part 3 - 521 words
Cosmo stared outside. Blackness never ending was all about her, spreading further than the mind could ever comprehend. The spaceship was flying at high speed right into this darkness, into adventure, and new discoveries. But she wondered, would it ever return? The darkness was littered with stars, seeming like specks of dust from her perspective. Yet each of these were giants of ever firing flame, even the smallest ones bigger than the earth. Well except for EBLM J0555-57Ab, which is somehow only seven times bigger than the earth. But that was an outlier and was not the point she was trying to make. Her point was, the sheer amount of things that nobody will ever know, and that will forever be left as unexplored mysteries in the vastness of a million equally unexplored ones. These thoughts, even though strangely comforting in a way, were also making Cosmo uneasy.
She turned away from the window, picked up her book and walked down the hallway. Tonight, it was her turn to be on duty at the cockpit. It was a tiring job, but at least she would get a clear view at the stars and would be (mostly) alone for the night, except for the company of the co pilot. But he wouldn't be joining her for at least about an hour.
She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. One of her crewmates was walking rather fast in her direction. Although he smiled widely to greet her, she didn't feel that it was because he was happy to see her. Something felt off about this. She let out a trace of a polite smile in response, and wondered when would be the right moment to turn away and continue walking. The crewmate kept making eye contact, so she decided that he probably had something to say.
“Lovely day, isn't it?” He asked.
“No… it's night right now.” She said hesitantly. She wondered if there would be any point to this conversation or if it would be just more useless small talk.
“Well it's always dark outside, so by that logic it would be night. But we can still call part of our time here, ”day“, no?”
Cosmo felt properly confused, and disturbed.
“Yes. That's what we do. And it's midnight now. So how would you not know that? Are you okay?”
“I quite alright, don't worry about me. How are you on this fine night then?”
Cosmo didn't respond. How come this crewmate, who was here on this ship for months and training for months before this, completely unaware of how the clock system worked? Perhaps he was aware. If he was just joking with her, it was a joke of really poor taste. Had he hit his head and lost his memory? Should she get him to the medical bay?
But when she snapped her head up to question him further, he was gone. She didn't even hear any footsteps. Her heart racing, Cosmo ran into the hallway ahead, but saw no trace of him at all. Cockpit duty flew out of her head. She would get the bottom of this.


Part 4 - 320
Almia sat in the study, fidgeting around with a flame on her fingers. Her textbook was sprawled on her lap. It was some history scribes, speaking of the never ending conflicts of the royal intrigues and never ending revolutions. She was distracted staring into the void, her mind wandering anywhere but her studies. then she felt a strange pull. A force, pulling her off her chair and dragging her some where. somewhere into the void. then she felt darkness cover her eyes and and a ice cold chill brush her face. Then she lost consciousness and strayed out of thought and time.
When she woke up, she saw everything around her was white. she was in a white room, with strange things surrounding her. She jumped up and saw a person looking on her.
“who are you?” she asked, jumping up and looking around her. strange tubes and connections, bolts and joints surrounded her. what looked like a window was on her left, it was all black with white stars surrounding it. actually she only guessed they were stars because of how she read it in the books. if they were stars, they were definitely underwhelming. just blacks spot in the void.
“I'm Cosmo. replied cosmo. ”who are you and how did you get here?“
”how did I get here?? That's what I should ask you. you are the one who brought me here!“
”brought you here? You teleported here!“
”teleported? what does that mean? I was sucked here by strange magic. What is this place?“
”Magic? Magic are you delirious? and as for what this place is it's a space ship, I am one of the reasercher here.“
”Research? space? What the heck are you on about. Why are you keeping me tracked here, why is it so white, and where is Kalidar?“
”you are most definitely delirious" said Cosmo. she turned away and wondered, what could she do?

Word War with icebunny11 || 271 words
Prompt: “How long have you been watching me?”

“Uhhhh,” Fledgling said, looking at he cat in the back of the cave, “not very long?” They cat sighed. “It's fine. What do you want from m.” “Uhhh,” fledgling looked around anxiously, “who are you?” The cat looked at her, fledgling surprised to see their blank eyes. “You don't know who I am? I thought he whole clan knew.” Fledgling hesitated for a moment. Was this one of the many important figures she was supposed to remember? After hesitating and fidgeting, the other cat spoke again. “I'm Edicator.” Fledging made a little noise. “Ohhhh…” this was the magical prophecy cat that everyone loved to talk about. But he couldn't be any older than her- why were they in a cave all by themselves?“ ”Why isn't there anyone else out here?“ ”Because I told them to leave me alone,“ Edicator sighed. ”They need to have eyes on me all the time, it really obnoxious. My powers don't just work when they tell me to use them, it annoys everyone. Fledgling watched him for a moment, looking around awkwardly. “So uh… should I also leave you alone?” “Do you want me to give you a dramatic prophecy of everything that will ever happen in your life?” “I don't think so?” Fledgling was very awkward now. “Then it's fine. You can stay. Edicator stuffed away, laying his head down on his moss bed. Fledgling stepped inside hesitantly, looking at the strange cat with the glowing gold wings and feathers and halo around their neck. ”…are you lonely?“ She asked, Edicator shrugging. ”I'm always surrounded by others, so…“ ”I don't mean alone. I mean lonely."

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

◪ Word War 4
Wordcount: minergold48
Person warred: 385
Win/Loss: Win
Prompt used: How long have you been watching me?
Time: 5 minutes
Cabin: Cyberpunk

part 1
part 2
part 3 !
part 4

How long have you been watching me? Is what Christy should have asked the mysterious man when she started to receive not only notes but little pictures of herself too, oh, but how could she? It was such a sweet, sweet romance. One she had thought that she could only dream of. One that made her feel butterflies every time she heard the man's heavy footsteps behind her own. It made her feel special, wanted, so beautiful. Why else would somebody take pictures of her if not to admire her?

This time, a note came with a scandalous picture of her mid-change. She knew that if she showed this to somebody else, they'd probably tell her to throw it away and call the authorities, but she couldn't understand their point of view. This was just how the man showed his love to her, and she appreciated it all the same. Maybe she should tell him to take prettier pictures of her next time- just because it was scandalous doesn't mean it made her look good. Look, over there- you could see her face contorted, probably mid-sentence, speaking to somebody on the phone next to her. Perhaps she should sit quieter from now on, so that he has more chances to take pictures.

In the advent of this, Christy started to wear nicer clothes. Dresses that had been buried in the back of her closet, far too short for somebody who was just going out to buy groceries. She wanted to join the mysterious man where he stood next to the milk aisle, but she had quickly realised that he liked to show his love from afar. Well, everybody liked to show their love in different ways! Who was she to judge? Especially when she'd received a sweet note this morning on her front door: You should leave your house more often. Aw, was he inviting her out on a date? How could somebody be so thoughtful! It was obvious he was shy, that's why he was asking her out with a note instead of face-to-face. He didn't exactly tell her the location of the date either, but she just assumed it was the park. That was where they had first met, after all. The first time she'd noticed him slowly trailing behind her so cutely.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

◪ Critique 2
Wordcount: 319
Person critiqued: AWritingCheerleader
Their work: Same last and First line
Cabin: Cyber Punk

“Don’t be scared, the sea hasn’t eaten anyone for a long time,” Deryn said, skipping towards the water’s edge.

Okay, first of all, I love how this started out! It definitely brought out some sort of curiosity in the reader. Why is the sea eating people? How on earth is this going to change in the last line?

Enna swallowed hard. Everyone on the island thought mermaids were a myth, but Enna’s father had always taught her to believe in them. He used to be a sailor, when that kind of thing existed on the island, and he swore he had seen them. Empty-eyed and beautiful, reaching out towards him through the waves. Her mother had barely been able to convince him to let Enna and her brother learn to swim in a little lake when they were young.

ooooo how interesting! I would probably describe the mermaids a little bit more just to make the eery effect really pop out, but it's not really that big of a problem without a longer description, considering that this IS a daily

But everyone knew her father was crazy ever since his boat crashed and he hit his head on the sharp rocks of the bay, and her reluctance to go swimming didn’t seem to be helping the case for her sanity among her peers.

OH NO POOR DAD :sob: I would probably rephrase the sentence somehow like this:

“But everyone knew that when his boat crashed, and he hit his head on the sharp rocks of the bay, her father had gone crazy, so her reluctance to go swimming didn't really help improve her sanity in the eyes of her peers.”

I'm saying it like this because it was a little bit hard for me to understand in the first read, but when I reread the sentence, I understood it just fine <3 I think it's because I write with a lot of commas and full stops because I'm a really big grammar freak, so sometimes it's a bit hard for me to understand sentences without commas!

“Deryn?” Enna opened her eyes and was met with silence.
She couldn’t see Deryn anywhere, the only thing she could see was an iridescent sparkle under the waves. A trace of something her father had always babbled about. Mermaids.
“Deryn!” Enna cried, eyes frantic.

Well well Deryn, I can't say Enna didn't warn you :shrug: this is why you should listen to the children of parents who've been in fatal accidents /hj

“Are you sure about this? Didn’t the mermaids claim their last victims only a decade ago?” Navy said, his nose twitching as it always did when he was nervous. “Deryn and Enna? I learned about them from my friends at school.”

omg timeskip, they've become local legends :0

“Well don’t be. I’m your older brother. I’ll protect you,” at Palmer’s promise, Navy straightened his back. “Don’t be scared, the sea hasn’t eaten anyone for a long time.”

I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this…

Overall, this is such a nice piece! At first, if you try to impatiently scroll down to see the same first and last line, it won't really make that much of a difference to you. But after you read it, there's a deeper meaning that reminds you of a sort of endless cycle due to carelessness of people. I loved it so much, thankyou for letting me critique your work!!

word war with Cyberdoodlez
prompt: none
time: 5 minutes
Cabin: adventure
Win/loss: loss
Word count: 181


“Well, that wasn't as bad as last shot,” I say to my little brother, who is trying to learn how to shoot with a bow and arrow, and is taking lessons from maybe the worst teacher in the world: me. “Really, do you think? I don't know, it still missed the target.” “Well yeah, I can see that,” I say. “Just you need to make sure you AIM before shooting, it's very crucial to hit your mark you know.” “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” he says. “I've got this. Just two more centuries and then I'll have it. ”Yeah, but the thing is, we don't got another century, if you want to apply for archer school, you need to get good NOW,“ I say. ”Okay, then you show me,“ he says. ”Alright, watch and learn.“ I pick up the bow and take careful aim, and shoot, hitting the bullseye. ”Wow,“ he says. ”That was good.“ ”Yeah, maybe if you practice enough you can shoot like that.“ ”I will try," he says, and picks up the bow for another round of practice.

critique for skylar
257 words of critique
Hi this is Hope with your very late critique… I am very sorry about that.

Okay this is unrelated, but it’s so surreal to be reading writing about my own characters because a) it literally feels like I’m having fanfiction written of my own fandom of sorts and b) I never write things with my characters so this is literally going to act as canon for the time being until I figure out what I actually want to do with my characters. So congratulations on writing the only canon text for my characters, lol. Anyway, onto the actual critique.

There was a… black cat. Sitting on her usual bench…

I like the tone you’ve created here but it doesn’t flow as well as it could, perhaps since you’ve got a lot of short sentences in the first few paragraphs. There’s obviously some variation of the sentence length but I think overall some of the sentences could be extended or connected to give the shorter sentences more impact when you do use them.

Its amber eyes gleamed against its black fur, as if the cat was saying “My bench. No touching.”

Should probably have a comma after “saying”.

Just as she began her contemplation…

You could use a synonym for contemplation here, as you’ve just used “contemplated” a line ago. The word contemplated comes up again towards the end of the piece as well.

“Hey. You have your side of the bench. I have my side of the bench.” Valerie explained

The full stop after “bench” should be a comma.

She had… a cat now? Maybe the cat distribution system really was a thing.

Awwwww it’s so cuteeee

Overall I thought this was a very nice piece (and extremely cute) — pretty much everything I had to say was just a minor critique, which might show that I need to get better at critiques, but I really couldn’t find much else from your piece!

➵ Journey the First: SWCharacter Swap ⊹ ₊

Part One - Character Sheet

Part Two - Moodboard

Part Three - Character Swap

Part Four - Character Meeting

» — ⋙ _____ words total ⋘ — «

(sage can't put anything on here yet because stuff is acting up)

Weekly 1

Name: Uriel “Uri” Wilovich Lucifer
Age: 26
Pronouns: It/any
Occupation: Monarch/Governing power
Residence: Фפיניקס (Pheonix*), The Nether
Species: Blaze/human hybrid
Appearance: Aside from its pointed ears, tail, and the faint orange tinge to its pale skin, Uri seems human at first glance. Its hair is shoulder length and starts out brown at the roots, transferring into a velvety red at the ends. Their plumed tail is also red. Their hair is typically tied into a ponytail and the hair that lies just above its forehead has a streak that’s dyed blue. It stands at an even five feet. Uri typically wears a canvas open-side tank top tucked into maroon shorts and black slippers. He has black tatoos on his arms in various patterns, one of particular note being his family’s crest. He also wears a lot of gold jewelry (a status symbol in the Nether), he has multiple bracelets on each wrist, a crown, and two triangular gold earrings. His eyes are orangey-red.
Personality:
– (Some)Traits: Charming, charismatic, intelligent, courageous, tolerant, pessimistic, controlling, mischievous, loving
– Strengths: Good with people, agile, cunning
– Weaknesses: Needs everything to be planned, holds grudges, feels as though it has to solve everything itself
– Misc.: Uri’s thinking always follows a very logical pattern, hates being put on the spot, D1 yearner, its mindset is very centered around being useful, when experiencing strong emotions it's prone to catching on fire (the amount of fire depends on how intense the emotion is, the scale ranging from tail to whole body.
*All italicized text is the direct translation from Blaze to English, translation varies depending on the language being translated (Common Netherian, Ghast, Piglin, etc.)
(Blaze is Yiddish but I replace the 1st letter with what the 1st letter of the word would be in Russian)


Sunny is tired, deeply tired. The thought occurs to her as she traces her own footpath on the beach, the gully she wore into the pearly sands. The sand curls around her toes, a feeling she’s familiar with. After all, she’s been doing the same thing every day for— well, she actually doesn’t know how long. Time beings to blur when all your days are the same. She stops a moment, letting the tide lap at her toes, and sighs. The gulls keep calling and the ocean keeps churning. As ever, they are undeterred by her melancholy. She considers briefly the idea of going for a swim, letting the water envelop her once more, but decides against it. She made her decision forever ago, it’s too late to go back on it. Besides, this is her only set of clothes, she doesn’t want to get them wet. She lets herself fall backwards and makes angels in the sand, staring up at the sky turning twilight. She wants to do something different today, wants to break the monotony she’s just realized she hates. She hears a loud slam in the distance and turns to see what she’s heard other humans call cars, and watches a woman get out. She has a cane and is touching the pavement with it, back and forth, back and forth. The little white tip on the end looks like a fish, swimming in a concrete sea.
She sits up, still leaning backwards on her hands, and watches the woman come down onto the beach and follow the path she made. She sits there, passive, until the woman comes close enough to hit her and the little white fish nibbles at her toes.
“Oh!” The woman exclaims, “a person.”
Sunny nods. She is a person now.
“A very quiet one.” The woman giggles to herself.
“I nodded.” This is the first real human she’s ever spoken to.
“I can’t see you, love.”
“Oh.” Is all she can think to say, suddenly the woman’s unperturbed reaction makes a lot more sense. She can’t see the wound on her head. “Sorry.” She tacks on, just incase it’s necessary.
“What’s your name, love?”
It occurs to Sunny that she doesn’t have a name, not a proper one. She’s just been shortening the name of her kind. Well, her former kind. Maybe it will suffice.
“Sunfi.” She responds
“Sunny?”
No, not quite. But she finds that Sunny sounds better, sounds hopeful, sounds like someone who knows that being a human is.
“Yes, Sunny.” She’s decided that’s her name now. The second human decision she’s made. She’s on a roll. Sunny gets up, grasping the woman’s free hand and shaking it in a gesture she’s seen other people do. “I’m Sunny, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Wow! Firm grip.” The woman mutters to herself, pulling her hand away and shaking it slightly.
“I will do better next time.”
The woman smiles, laughing slightly. “You’re an odd duck, you know.”
“I’m a human.”
The woman laughs again, and Sunny gets the feeling that this meeting will go well.

I stood face to face with my enemy. Time. My future surrounded me, my wedding, my funeral, my birthdays and my worsts days encircled me, trapping me in a world I could not live in.
You can’t live in the future but you can live in the past. And the images shift; when I was born, when I turned one, when I took my first steps and started preschool and learned to write and talk and the alphabet and then math and then history and when I graduated and when I got accepted into my dream school. That one was just this morning. My future and my past exist in one space, and even though they’re everything I dreamed up, something isn’t right.
Knowing the future doesn’t work. Like it or not, life is a surprise. It should stay that way. So I close my eyes, knowing what I sacrificed for a glimpse into my future. Knowing I would sacrifice the rest to get my future back.
You see, the things with futures is simple. Once you see it, you want it different. No matter what—the most lavish lifestyle you can imagine, and if that were your future, you’d want to change it. It doesn’t need to be better, it just eneds to be different. The future changes and oozes and floqws with every step you take, and you nver know when on of those steps could save or end or change a life. The best days aren’t the ones where you eat the most cake, but the ones you spend saving lives, even uncoisnessly.
Take you, for example. Even if you have never stepped outside your house and you treat everyone like garbage, I hope you save at least one person. Even yourself.
So do something nice. Smile at people, tell them they look great and give people presents for no reason and just do something nice.
Life is in the smallest moments. You won’t experience the height of the world on its tallest throne or in its highest castle; you’ll see the height of the world when you walk down the street and smile at me, and I smile back. You compliment my shoes and I your hair.
We will never see each other again.
But it spins. I do the same for the next person I see, and so do you. On and on we go like this, converting people to a life of idle kindness on a seldom used street.
That man forgot his wallet, and I paid for his breakfast. I helped my neighbor find her dog.
My future didn’t change, it had already been written in stone. But that’s the thing about life, isn’t it? Only the important thing are cast in stone. Nobody could tell me to stop loving the people on the seldom used street, and nobody could stop it from snowballing. Maybe that’s how it works. You start simple. You smiled at me, and I smiled at you. As you cross the next street, you smile at the homeless man and buy him some food. At the next light, I pet someone’s dog and we laugh together.
It’s true, I know who I will marry and when I will die. I’ve already watched myself do everything.
But maybe that’s part of it too. Seeing the future made me want to change it, and in doing so I made the street a little livelier. I know when I will die and I know the biggest things that will happen before then, but there simply aren’t enough memories to show me all the smallest things. Every smile, every wave, every time you made someone’s life better just by showing up for a passing moment.
You smiled at me, and you changed the world. We never saw each other again, no, but for a fleeting second our lives touched, and in that moment no measure of time and no knowledge of the future could shake our bond. You smiled at me, and I smiled at you. That was it. It was just enough to save someone.
I had my wedding, and it looked identical to the one Time showed me. But it didn’t show the most important part, the bits in between. In the images, you could see me smile at my mother when she showed up, but you can’t see that the second she did everything shifted. You can see my vows but not their meaning, not the words between the lines. “I love you,” I said aloud. I love the seldom used street, said the space between the words. “We are tied together in eternity,” I said. The cycle continues, said the blank space under the last line. You smiled at me, and I smiled at you and we never saw each other again, but I can feel you in every moment. I can feel all of them. Each time someone waved at me, or smiled at me, or said how much they liked my shoes, the world came full circle. It snowballed bigger and bigger and it drowned out the sorrow and the worry of people who didn’t smile back.
You started this cycle on the seldom used street, and I hope the cycle returns to you. I hope there are a million, a billion cycles going round and round round, watching everyone smile at each other on the street, over food, at work, during their hardest days and the best times of their life.
The future didn’t show me this. But how could it have? To see everything, every time the cycle starts or comes around would take the entire duration of humanity up to this point.
That’s why Time showed me this. Not to spoil the future, but so that I could see what hides in its cracks. The foundation of everything good is everyone good, and every time you start the cycle anew that foundation is strengthened. The future was always going to be set in stone, but the details are our choice.
And I chose the seldom used street.

to bea! 1103 words, 600 points!

Hi Bea!

It’s been so long since we last were in the same cabin. Mystery NOV 24 was such a blast though, and I’m surprised how well we did! I think fourth overall is the highest I’ve been (leading, anyway) which kind of surprised me given how poorly planned the storyline was. I just finished a letter to Chuey, so I think I’ll format this one the same way! I’m planning to start off with a general overview of my day/week and then ask some questions so we can hopefully bounce questions off each other, and end with a section about my novel!

So, I’ll get started with some general stuff first! I had a pretty good day today, and I made a lot of shark stuff. My party is this Saturday and I’m really excited for it! I’ve mostly just been experimenting with different stuff, like random shark themed stuff to have up as decoration or whatever. This morning I cut the sharks off a window cling and made this sort of cutout for them, just some random shark merchandise to decorate my space with lol. I had my dad 3D print me some flexible sharks, and then I drew on them to make them look like different kinds of sharks! Like I told Chuey, they didn’t come out great, so I think I’ll rinse them off and have them be blank sharks instead! I want to make some shark themed jewelry for my party, but I’m a little lost. I don’t have any shark charms or beads, but doing just blue will end up with people unhappy with metal colors. I’m a silver person at heart, but I think most of my friends prefer gold. I could go with a non metal bracelet type thing, but that just feels a little boring for a shark themed party. I was hoping to 3D print some charms, but we don’t have the right filament colors so I’m not sure if it will work. I’ll get it all figured out sometime this week though.

Today and yesterday, I’ve also been watching an interior design show! When I was younger, I wanted to be an interior designer and I watched this show before, but it’s like a love hate thing. I like getting mad at the contestants and the eliminations and overall, its just a bit boring though I can’t look away. I want to clean my room a bit better; I’m used to cleaning it on Saturdays but I cleaned it right before I left for vacation and I didn’t think it needed it when I got back on Friday, but it’s sort of become a disaster as I’ve unpacked all my shark stuff. I cleaned it up a bit this morning, but I think it could use some better work. I consider myself to be very organized, so I’m not in a great mood when there’s stuff all over, but I didn’t anticipate there being so much shark stuff that I brought home with me so I had to figure out a spot for all that.


I’m wondering how cabin wars went for you yesterday! I had a lot of fun, and I actually broke my record of words written in a day with 8.3k! Currently, I’m sprinting with Mouse and Eevee, and it seems like a lot to write the day after cabin wars lol. We did pretty good! As far as I’m aware, we did the most wars of the cabin who have posted their stats! I think we wrote like a solid 30k at least, which is really great to see. Chocolate warred us so many times, and I’m sure you experienced that too unless your’e in her cabin. I’m not as big of a cabin wars fan as I used to be, to be honest; nowadays it feels more stressful than fun. Moving on!

Here are some questions you can answer in your reply if you’re like me, trying to get as many points as possible before a word limit for penpals is implemented ;D How was your day today, if you could describe it in one word? For me, I’d probably pick chill. Not boring, but not overly exciting, just chill! This is my second letter today, and I think I’m gonna try and get one out to Sage as well before the cap is implemented. What is your favorite type of shark? Are you having a warm winter or a cold one? What are you most excited for next week and what were you most excited about this week?


I’ll finish up by talking about my novel. I’ve not really written myself into a corner persay, but I’m struggling to decide what should happen next. My character feel aimless, like they’re not sure what they want to do any more than I’m sure what they should or need to. They’re on the run from the leader of the city, but they’ve figured out her plan, to an extent. She won’t come after them directly, but she pretends to be right behind them, making the situatiokn difficult. If they don’t accept Madelyn’s offer, what will they do instead? The reason they made it out of the city att he start of the book was all a ruse, meant to lure them into a false sense of security. And to an extent, it worked. But that plans been blown now, and everything is sort of crashing into each other, leaving all the characters stranded in a plotline that doesn’t have a real escape to it.

So, I’m not too sure what to do. I don’t really like planning, but if I don’t, I fear I won’t work on it at all and my goal for it is 30k this month. I dont know the extent of your novels, but I’d love to hear more about them! You said you were working on two different ones, so Im curious if you have any similar problems to what I’m having right now. I have this a lot though, either i’ll get through it and continue or add this to my massive pile of unfished stories, though in my mind that would be a sad fate for this book.

Well this has been a fun letter to write! I hope to see your replies soon ,don’t worry about making it long, lol. Have a great day and goodbye!

letter to sage, 1104 words, 600 points!

Hello hello hello Sage!!

This is my third letter so far, so forgive me if I’m getting a bit tired. Like the first two, I’m gonna divide it into sections!! For the other two we were both working on novels, but I’m not sure if that’s something you’re working on so I’ll leave that sections out this time ;D

Starting off general!

My day has been pretty good so far. I think I’m finally recovering from being sick, I had bronchitis and laryngitis, so that kind of sucked. But I’ve been planning my party and thats been a ton of fun! I think me and my dad are going out tomorrow morning, so I’ll need to make a shopping list. I love getting organixed, so I’m actually looking forward to making that! Essentially, i’m having a shark themed 17th birthday party on saturday and im really trying to go all out with it, even though only maximum five people are coming. Its going to be a ton of fun regardless, so im excited! In other news, my birthday is the day after tomorrow! I’d be curious to know your birthday traditions, if that’s something you would talk about for words.

In my family, we have a weird tradition: the birthday person gets to do the dollar store and pick out 10 items. Its a bit weird but i think its fun, even though someone complains every time of course. Theres a bunch of rules for it too, like it can be a soda but only on your birthday and no one else can get one, other people can get two things each and a third if they pay themselves, but no soda, and for half birthdays we have crazy rules too. Its kind of random but its pretty fun!

Tonight, I’ve been sprinting with Eevee and Mouse! It’s been a lot of fun, but Eevee is really fast :eyes: she has a crazy words per minute! I cannot type that fast and have it be legible, lol. Anyway, I feel like I’m running out of unique random topics… i’m sure a points cap for letters will be enforced soon, within the next day or so, so I’m trying to finish up my longest letters now!

We just came back fro vacation, so I guess i could talk about that! We went to a more beachy area, though I obviously can’t say where on scratch. It was fun, but i didnt really enjoy it that much. Its not like i got a break from school or anything! The complex did have a pool which i really enjoyed, and since getting home i’ve missed going to the pool everyday. I always got water in my ears which was super annoying, but at the end of the day it was worth it. I definitely feel a lot better getting home, since all we ate was fast food during our trip. I didnt have access to a trampoline, so getting home was nice for that reason too!

Of course, the number one thing I missed about being at home was my cats. I missed my room a lot too, i didnt really enjoy having to share a room. No offense to my roommate slash family member. Anyway, my plans for tonight including jumping on the trampoline while listening to music! I’ve been listening to bbno$ lately, but i dont know if you would like his music. Seaking of which, what kind of music do you usually listen to? Anyway, back to my trampoline. I missed having the space to move around a lot, so its been nice to have that back. I’ve been doing a lot more exercise since getting home which has felt really nice too!

Hmm, I’m thinking I could ask you some questions and we could sort of bounce questions back and forth to get more words in. At least untilt here’s a point cap, which i’m sure is coming soon. When i finish this, i’ll be at 1800 points for cyberpunk in like an hour which is crazyyyyy…. Anyway, better get on this! My last one for the night i think, so we’re almost done. Crazy that i will have 3.3k in so short of a time, this is a genius way to get words.

Oh, right. The questions! If you could describe your day and week in one word, which word? What are you most excited for next week? What was something you were grateful for today? Did you have a nice cabin wars? Congrats on doing so well in the leaderboard, by the way ;D How has writing been going overall this session? Are you still feeling that initial rush from the excitement at the start of the session or are you starting to get burned out?

Well, I think thats enough questions. Moving on! I guess im going to rant about my novel anyway, though i dont know if you’re currently working on one as well! So i got myself into a bit of a puzzle, because i cant really figure out what needs to happen next. The characters have to do something, but they dont want to and i understand why—nothig good has happened. Nothing good will happen for a long time, and to be honest i dont know how to fix it. I should probably start working on it though because i did tell myself I would write 30k on it for this month, and i’m at zero right now. I’d love to hear if you’ve had any problems with writing, short or long form! D you plan on entering the writing comp? I dont usually enter but i’m thinking of entering something polished this time, i’d really love to get anything, even just an honorable mention.

Well, as this draws to a close, i hope you can find your way around all the ranting. Don’t feel like you have to respond with so many words, lol! I’m just tyring to get cyberpunk up the leaderboard, though its been hard. I’m hoping we get top 3! But who isnt, if we’re being honest? Well, i think its time to say goodbye—at least for this letter. I hope you had a fun time reading it at least, or maybe that you enjoyed the questions? Im looking forward to reading your letter! I dont know how many i can feasibly write every week, but im going to do my best to respond to everyone’s! This seems like a really fun activity. And with that! Goodbye and, depending on your timezone, good night! Or good day! Have a great one

Zy

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

◪ Critique 3
Wordcount: 324
Person critiqued: ziqing11
Their work: Part 4 of Weekly
Cabin: Cyber Punk

There had never been so many people on the platform at once.

ooo I love how you started the story! Perhaps what I would do is break a line between the two sentences, as in:

There had never been so many people on the platform at once.

A smell, an unpleasant mixture of sweat…

I feel like a break might hook the reader in more!!

Two hours she had been standing on the platform, waiting for the currently nonexistent train to arrive.

I was just about to say how I relate to Kiersty, but then I let out a loud gasp after reading “Two Hours” :sob: Is that even possible? I'm not even sure a train driver could keep his job if he was two hours late to a stop.

All around her babies were whining, adults were huffing and the station employees had long ago ceased to try and contain the angry crowd.

Can I just say, as somebody who uses the subway a LOT when I go abroad to explore different countries, this is visibly making me cringe. Great job at describing this scene! It really helps you envision that horrible old man in the back who refuses to put down his cigar and the uncomfortable stench in the air. Guess who's uncomfortable in her chair now :cry:

When the final note dissipated in the air, the entire station was silent. Then, came the thunderous applause.

I really do love public performers. How am I the only one who's never actually seen one in airports or subways? I always look around hoping to see one </3

“Oh- yes, thank you,” Kiersty answered, baffled.

I think you did pretty well describing a scene like this. I'm not always the best at describing short, awkward conversations, but this flows smoothly!

Overall, I think it was such an uncomfortable read in the best way possible <3 I really COULD feel the sweat running down my back underneath my shirt. If you were to extend this piece longer, I would recommend describing the surroundings a bit more. Speaking from experience, how does it feel when different people are pressing against your skin like sardines in a can? Can you hear the faint music from somebody else's headphones? Is the light coming from everybody's impatient phone scrolling headache-inducing? Other than that, I don't find anything particularly wrong in this. Good job!!

weekly #1
1699 words

Part 1: 283 words

Valerie St John
Age: 19
Pronouns: She/they
Occupation: Student
Appearance:
Dark brown, layered curly hair cut above the shoulders and framing their face
Dresses in a lot of layers, with dark florals or jewel tones
Dangly earrings
Shirts and trousers
Pale skin
Slightly taller than average

Personality
Hardworking: they’re very passionate about trying their best and she puts a lot of effort into almost everything she does, especially if it’s something they’re interested in.
She only makes a particular effort to be friendly to either those she is close to or the people they would like to be friends with. Otherwise, she treats everyone else… not in a particularly unfriendly way, but not trying too hard to be nice — merely cordial.
Blunt
Short-tempered
Can be petty and holds grudges easily
Picky

Other traits
Has a matter-of-fact tone when speaking and usually isn’t afraid to say her opinions about something or someone else unless they think that someone would be particularly upset or it would get them into a lot of trouble.
Their face and body language are naturally very expressive and can often show their emotions even if they don’t intend it to.

Relationships:
Parents: estranged
Older brother: distant, but she wishes they could become closer again
Frances: Valerie respects her honest and open nature but finds her a bit suffocating at times
Bernadette: they don’t talk often, but Valerie finds her quite interesting
Amari: she’s too sweet and air-headed for their liking, but they can appreciate her outlook in life. Although she doesn’t realise it, or perhaps she just doesn’t want to acknowledge that she knows that deep down they wish they could treat the world and life like Amari does.

Part 2: 294 words


Top left: similar to her appearance, also I think getting public transport would be something that they would do often since they don’t know how to drive and have no intention of learning.
Top centre: a lot of their surroundings are older like the brick buildings in this image.
Top right: I think it just gives off their vibe, I don’t really know how to concretely relate it to their character though. I guess the bruise, they’re quite a clumsy person.
Middle left: again it just seems like something they and her three other friends would do.
Centre: four candles representing the four of them together. Also, lighting candles like that is often an overly romanticised, dark academia thing to do which is quite relevant to her character and the story overall.
Middle right: after seeing this photo I am going to find a way to put a cat into this story I swear it.
Bottom left: similar to the centre, representing the beauty that their lives and situations allegedly should be. (I’m telling myself that I’m keeping the details vague as to not spoil anything, but really it’s because I’m still changing things about the story and I don’t want to say anything that ends up not being true because that will annoy me.)
Bottom centre: the four of them enjoying coffee. I don’t know, I just make my moodboards based off vibes more than anything else as you’ve probably realised by now.
Bottom right: I found this on my pre-existing moodboards of this story and I thought it fit the vibes. I envision Valerie to be in some sort of polyamorous/queerplatonic relationship with Frances, Bernadette, and Amari, so I guess you can choose who the two people are in that image??

Part 3: 522 words (swapped with skylar)
Outside, a sea of black, the darkness of unreachable distances scattered with pinpricks of colour. The quiet stillness — some people call it unnaturally so, but for Eki it is one of the most comforting sights she could imagine.

Millions of miles away, a figure kneels to the dewy ground, cupping a yellow primrose between her hands. The downy leaves are coarse against her hands as she places it in the divot of the soil, patting down the earth beside it into a smooth mound. The sky is grey and overcast but the trees are beginning to blossom pink and yellow as she walks back into the warmth of her house, passing by the two sets of spare keys hanging on the walls. Somehow Eki knows this.

She pulls on the shutter with a soft sigh and turns away from the window. Contrary to popular belief, starships aren’t usually silent shells of metal, and Eki can count on one hand the amount of times there hasn’t been at least one other person on a temporary posting. This just happens to be one of those times.

So the corridors are empty when Eki walks down them, tote bag slung over one shoulder. She doesn’t need the bag — the ship is small enough that she could get from one side to the other in a matter of minutes, and anyhow it would give her an excuse to do something with her time — but once she’s picked up the habit, it’s hard to stop.

At the library, Eki stops and turns in. It’s not particularly large — much of the texts necessary for research have been digitised, so the library is mainly used to store essential documents as well as a selection of fiction, for leisure. Eki has already read most of the books here, devoured them in her eagerness for exploration, and she mentally ticks off another book on the list as she returns ‘Shivers of the Last Primrose’ to the shelves. An interesting read and Eki had allowed herself to be lost in the lush descriptions of Earth, but it makes her remember her friends and long for their company again.

She just needs to be patient. In a matter of months, Asteria will return from Earth, having hopefully completed her last set of terrestrial Fleet training, and Mir’ana is currently en route to the ship — ETA two weeks. Still, sometimes she wonders what life must be like on a planet, with the freedom to run in the open space, to not be confined within the walls of the ship. The thought comes to her that perhaps she should ask Asteria, but she brushes it away as quickly as it came.

For all her musings, Eki isn’t unhappy with her life upon the spaceship. Not at all — she knows that if she had the opportunity to choose to live on a planet, she would never take it. There’s just something special about hurtling through space, about knowing that if she wanted to go anywhere, she could.

The expanse of the known universe blossoms out around Eki, and she is at the centre of it all.

Part 4 (600 words)
The cat is gone.

The cat is gone, and Valerie has no idea where it could have wandered off to, except that train stations can be dangerous, and although she really doesn’t want to insult its intelligence (it certainly wouldn’t be pleased to hear it), there’s no knowing what an adventurous cat might do in a train station. So she bolts up from the bench, pushing her notebook to the side, and begins walking down the platform.

Where could that cat have gone? they wonder. It doesn’t usually wander away, much preferring to curl up around their feet or on her lap, so Valerie has no idea where to start looking. At least she doesn’t see any familiar blurs of black fur on the tracks, they reason with themselves. That’s got to be a good start, right?

The excited chatter of unfamiliar voices drifts from an alcove at the end of the platform so Valerie moves towards it, in an equal mix of curiosity and trepidation. She turns the corner — and there it is, the cat!

They break into a run to retrieve the cat, and she’s so preoccupied with the relief at having found the cat — look, Valerie knows that it’s survived just fine without her in the past, but they can’t help getting nervous — that she doesn’t notice the people behind it.

“Hello? Is this cat yours?” one of the figures asks, in that strange, otherworldly accent.

“Yes,” Valerie mutters, checking their watch — twenty past four, the train’s going to be arriving any minute now, she needs to grab her stuff and go, wrap the cat up in her jumper to prevent any more escapades—

“What’s your name?”

Valerie looks up, and they really hope they didn’t freeze because that would be awkward! but what was she looking at?

Right, let’s not say anything rude — it’s probably just… a group of dedicated cosplayers, she reasons to herself. Yeah! I’ve done cosplay before. Really cool. Right. Maybe not to the extent of these guys, but, dedicated. As I said. And look, the other one almost looks normal. Okay, that would definitely be rude. Do not say that out loud.

“Who… are you?” Playing it cool. Nice. In the distance, a train appears.

“I’m Eki, and uh, my friend and I… we kind of time travelled here.”

“Time travel?” Valerie repeats, blinking. A very dedicated cosplayer, it seems, she thinks. They’re… just getting into character. That sounds about right.

Then the cosplayer begins to ramble on about time travel and cats, because somehow cats are relevant to this conversation right now? so Valerie takes the opportunity to scoop up her cat, grab her notebook and bag, and rush into the nearest carriage, all whilst shooting various apologies over her shoulder.

The door closes, the train starts moving, and Valerie drops herself into a nearby seat, watching in equal parts amusement and horror as the… cosplayer? runs after the carriage, seemingly fascinated by the components of the train’s exterior. Well, that will be another experience they’re never going to tell anybody, if only for the reason that the entire story is simply unbelievable.

Maybe they’re really time travellers, Valerie muses, before laughing. There was no way they just had that thought. Time travel? Absolutely impossible. No. What have I gotten myself into?

She’ll write up the enire scenario, she decides. Change up some of the characters, give them new names. And they’ll give the idea to Bernadette, and she can write another short story about it, and they can simply forget that the entire encounter even happened in real life.

Excellent.

Hey, Zy!

It has been far too long since we’ve been in the same cabin, actually? What do you mean the last time was back in November ’24?? It really doesn’t feel all that long ago, but at the same time it feels like it was forever ago? I still think about that session really fondly, because it was the first time I was ever really active! I remember when I missed a daily (the horror) and was nervous and stressed that somebody would be disappointed in me, or call me out on it. But then everyone was so calm and chill and nice that I wasn’t really afraid after that? Honestly, Nov. ’24 is still one of my favorite sessions specifically because of that.

So, uh, consider this a really, really late thank you note, but! Thanks for making Mystery so welcoming, that session, it’s what got me here now!

And ooh, that’s a great idea, actually! I love asking and answering questions hehe. (And also apologies in advance for how random and all over the place my letter might be-)

:0! Happy (Early?) Birthday, Zy! Ooh, the flexible 3D printed sharks sound awesome?? I don’t actively look for 3D printed stuff but I do have some otters that hold hands but those sharks sound awesome! Bummer that the drawing on them didn’t really work, but yay that you were able to wash them off! Hmmm. I'm not a jewelry maker myself, and I'm not very sure? But I'm sure you will get it figured out!!

Oh, nice about the interior design show! That kind of stuff isn't really my taste (… designing rooms for my characters for any sort of situation is one of my least favorite things) BUT I totally understand the love hate thing with competition shows (cooking shows for me, specifically).

Aaa I understand the room being a mess (I can never keep mine clean… there are books and journals on every possible surface I swear. But I swear I don't have any sort of obsession what haha *sweats nervously*) I hope you're able to muster up the energy to clean everything up soon! Especially so you can feel better. And I hope you find a spot for everything, old and new, too!

Ooh, personally I don't know if I've done as good as I usually have. Though, to be fair, I don't usually keep track of how much I've written. However! Isa actually tallied everything up and apparently I wrote about 7k and the most of our cabin? Weird, because I felt like I didn’t do as good as usual. Chocolate warred us a fair amount of times, I believe? I think she might've tied with Alana, to be honest. And yeah, that's fair! I personally think it's a little less stressful When the shield isn't constantly going down, personally. But I can totally understand that!

Also ooh nice that you broke your record! That’s a lot of words in one day ! Maybe I should start keeping track of how much I write during cabin wars to compare and contrast… and wowzers that’s a lot of words!

It's a tie for boring or tiring. I didn't do a lot today, because I was exhausted (daylight savings time…). My day was rather boring, if I'm being honest with myself. I didn't do a lot, outside of eating lunch and collecting some stats because I didn't feel like writing. I was rather exhausted today (I blame daylight savings…) and I didn't feel like doing much.

Oh this will be my first letter today !

Ooh okay I don't know too many sharks but I think the dwarf lantern sharks are very cute! I only know this guy from the days of when I was young and obsessed with animals lol. But I also think oceanic white tip sharks are pretty, too! They have such interesting coloration!

What about you? If I ask this, will I unlock 9000 words of shark facts and lore ?? I love fun facts by the way! Please don't be afraid to dump facts on me lol.

A very cold one! It was kinda nice, actually? I got proper snow for the first time in my life! I made a small snowman for the first time ever and also a snow angel, it was great. Then I got really cold and soggy so then I just stayed inside haha. My hair was so wet afterwards, I had to dry it off. What about you? Cold winter or warm?

And how’s spring coming for you? Already there or non-existent? For me, spring in coming along slowly, but it’s definitely getting warmer! It’s also very rainy over here, too. We got a thunderstorm yesterday! It was nice but it also scared me at first because it came so fast. But it’s been pretty wet over here haha.

This week was probably Sunday, actually. I recently sewed a shirt and I wore it today! It fits great and it's very cozy. I'm very, very proud of it because it took longer than I was expecting and it was my first time using stretch material! I love it when I can use some of the stuff I've made myself. It's a great feeling. And you? I know that you’re looking forward to your party, but! Anything else you were/are looking forward to for this week or the next week?

Next week… hm. I have a public speaking event this weekend which I'm nervous for but also excited about at the same time?? I've got mixed feelings about it, but I'm definitely looking forward to it! But I’m also very nervous and anxious because I don’t particularly like public speaking. But I know I’m excited for it, even if I’m nervous haha!

Oh no D:! Sorry to hear that you've sort of trapped yourself? That’s not a fun feeling. I hope you can resolve it! Feel free to bounce any ideas off of me if you ever need to! I'm always happy to listen to story ideas/plot bunnies/or just general rambling about anything, really. So if you need to rant or ramble about your story then feel free! And I hope that you figure out a way to make it work! Or, if you don't figure it out now, then I hope you figure it out later!

Also, wow, 30k is a lot of words! I hope you reach your goal! You’ve got this, Zy!

Oh stars okay yapping mode activated!

Okay so the first one is a story idea that I've had for about 4 years now which is crazy to think about honestly?? But anyways, so, now, it's hardly recognizable from the few documents that I still have on my computer from when I was younger. Like you can still see several elements that are still present from my younger self's ideas, but I think it's grown bigger than my young self would ever imagine, honestly. Currently, my problem for this one is just that there's a whole lot of worldbuilding that I need to get done (there's a magic system of sorts, and I'm fighting with it to make sense) and I'm struggling a bit with the worldbuilding.

Another problem that I have is that (lots of plot condensed into a few sentences) the main character (Lilac) needs to get some information that is only in a specific book, however, I need her to actually be able to access the book. But I also need it to be reasonable for her to just not go up to someone else who has actually seen said book before and just… ask them about the information she needs.

Because I don't see why she couldn't just find someone and ask them for the information she needs and just… get the information. Because then I don't really have a plot. I'm vaguely thinking that the book could only be accessed at certain times but that feels… silly, I guess? Currently this is the main thing stopping me from getting farther than plotting the first few chapters and a few scenes toward the middle and end scenes that I've thought up.

So then the other one is a fanfic technically but I feel less awkward talking about it if I refer to it as a novel dkljaflsjdkfsfjkl. I hope you don't mind? I know that fanfic isn't everyone's thing, haha, But it makes me happy so… *shrug*

Anyways I'll be a little vague about it so you don't have to listen to my mildly insane ramblings haha.

ANYWAYS I'll actually talk about it now. So, basically, it's an OC/canon fix-it fic because I want everyone to be friends and nobody is and it makes me a bit sad. To be fair, the media I'm writing for is unfinished (we're still waiting for 3 or 4 episodes to release, and there's a lot that can happen. But as much as I want everyone to be friends and for everyone to get a happy ending, I'm not getting my hopes up unfortunately. So if I can't get my hopes up with canon, I might as well write fanfic haha.)

So anyways, I'm just fixing all of canon and giving the main character a love interest because I think he deserves one :]. There's too many bad things that happen to him and he's a really sweet character, honestly. He deserved better </3 so I'll make me happy in my fanfic okay.

Keeping it vague because otherwise I'm not gonna shut up about it jkdfasldfslksdfsklf and this letter is already long as it is. But if you do want to listen to my mildly insane ramblings then feel free to just say so!

Anyways, I’m not sure if I actually know that much about your novel, outside of what you’ve told me :0 so, I’m super curious now. Tell me all the things! Plot, characters, scenes, etc. Whatever you would like and whatever you’re happy to ramble about hehe

“Don't worry about making it long,” he says. “Oops,” I say, looking at the word count. “I rambled too much, I guess.”

ANYWAYS, yes! This was really fun to write! I had a blast writing it and I can’t wait to see your reply! I hope you have and amazing day, too!

Name: Nathaniel Vex (Known as Vex, Captain, Captain Vex, ect- does not use first name.)
Age: Mid-twenties
Occupation: Pirate Captain
Residence: The seven seas yaharr (His ship the Bamboat)
Physical characteristics: Tall, broad-shouldered, strong. Tanned skin marred with innumerable scars. Long, straight brown hair. Strong face and jawline, dark eyebrows and lashes. Bright, piercing green eyes. Sports traditional pirate attire- white shirts, scarves as belts, worn trousers and boots. Does also own a comically large pirate hat
Strengths: Physically strong and very adept as a sailor and as a fighter. Commanding and authoritative, but not in a dictatorial fashion- rather, he is fully trusted by his crew and is therefore treated with respect. Great at quick thinking and spur-of-the-moment decisions. Able to function well under pressure. Very charismatic. Secretly a massive sweetheart, but nobody knows that
Weaknesses: Relaxing and being true self around others. Rather obsessive once set on something. Struggles massively with personal communication (although he is great at talking with crew and others on a surface level, he cannot truly communicate emotions or other like things)
Relationships: Best mate Jim (the quartermaster on the ship) who he's sailed with for years. Probably the most solid relationship he has. Great banter between the two, can rely on each other very solidly
Sailingmaster Liz: Known for years as well, although she has slowly worked her way up the crew. Sarcastic and humorous relationship. Again, would trust (and have trusted) each other with their lives

244/200 words


https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1287094963/ for the photos. 231/100 words


Saige exhaled softly as the breeze brushed her hair over her shoulder. She leaned further back into the soft, damp grass of the hill, enjoying the distinctly alive smell that being outside had. The air was sweet, perfumed by the lush, slightly unruly bushes of wildflowers that were littered across the grass. The last of faint bird-chatter could be heard, the winged creatures speaking their goodnights as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Soon, their noise would fade, replaced by the rhythmic chirping of crickets. Saige knew she wouldn't be permitted to hear them, though.
She sighed, brow furrowing as she tried to push away the thoughts of returning to the orphanage. She desperately missed the freedom of being a nomad, of wandering the hills and sleeping beneath the stars. It had never been ideal- how could it be, considering how she'd ended up living such a life- but it had been legions more preferable to the cramped life she now led.
That was why Saige could often be found sitting on damp grass, gazing out at the sky. Being outside was a rare solace to be found in her new life. She tilted back her head, drinking in the openness of the heavens above, perfectly content to sit beneath the dimming sky.
“Saige!”
Unfortunately, the world had other plans.
She turned, greeted by the sight of a younger girl stumbling up the hill. The girl was small, with straight hair plaited neatly behind her back. She offered a tentative smile at the older orphan.
“Mrs. Crowder says you need to come in for dinner,” she said hesitantly. Her eyes were wide, always slightly fearful, and she hovered uncertainly a few paces away from where Saige sat.
“Thanks, Anya,” Saige said forlornly, slowly peeling herself up from the ground. “I'm coming. You go ahead- wouldn't want you to be late.”
“Are you sure?” Anya asked. “I can walk with you, if you'd like.”
In all honestly, Saige would have appreciated a few moments to herself, but she wasn't about to say no to the rather fragile child. She nodded and began to walk slowly beside Anya.
“Mrs. Crowder says you should stop sitting out here alone, you know,” Anya offered after a few seconds of silence. “She says that you'll never learn to be a respectable lady if you don't speak with others.”
“I'll do what I wish with my free time,” Saige replied dismissively. Anya shrunk back slightly at her tone.
“No, sorry. You've done nothing wrong, Anya. It's just- sometimes, you need a moment to yourself.” Anya nodded eagerly, looking up at Saige, who smiled softly. “Just to help you to think.”
“Maybe I'll try that, then,” Anya said, screwing up her lips. “Mrs. Crowder always tells me I need to think more before I speak.”
“Do it for yourself, Anya,” Saige laughed, “not Mrs. Crowder.”
They reached the ramshackle west wall of the orphanage and filed in through the side door. Anya scurried off to sit with the younger girls, leaving Saige alone in the mudroom. She took off her boots, casting a final, longing look back at the now inky sky, and headed towards the dining room.
Dinner wouldn't be too bad. She knew that Caleb would have saved her a seat.

548/500 words


The market overflowed with people shoving past, bundles of fruits in their arms and fresh fish wrapped in brown paper poking out of satchels. It was always like this on a Saturday. The seaside town was renowned for its prosperous trade and easy access to the Atlantic. Saige knew this, but she still wished that she didn't have to deal with the crowds.
She glanced at the paper list clutched in her hands. Salt bags. Those were going to be tough to carry.
Resignedly, she headed over to where the salt vendors would be headed. She didn't use the main thoroughfare, instead weaving between back alleyways and side streets. Luckily, she knew this market like the back of her hand, or her trip would have taken her twice as long.
Finally, she reached the vendor and shuffled under the awnings. She wordlessly made her transaction and hefted the heavy salt bag over her shoulder. Almost done, and then she could get out of here.
But on her way out, she was shoved harshly back into the wall, a finely clothed man pushing her aside with a long baton. The wind was knocked out of her upon contact with the rough brick. She dropped the salt bag, which burst and scattered her wares across the cobbled road.
Looking up, she glared daggers at the man. He was part of a wider entourage, escorting a pompous-looking man who sat atop a pearly white horse. They ploughed through the crowd, sending people and their hard-earned money scattering away.
Saige scowled. Who was this man who thought he owned the place? Shaking her head, she realized that he probably did. The mayor had to buy his food too, she supposed.
“Rich idiots, ay?”
Saige glanced up in surprise. Above her stood a tall, well-built man, sporting long brown hair and scarred tan skin. He was glaring menacingly at the man on horseback.
He glanced down at Saige, and she was momentarily taken aback by his piercing green eyes. He nodded in greeting and reached into his coat, flipping a coin at the girl. Saige caught it, surprised.
“New salt bag's on me.”
“Thanks,” Saige replied, pocketing the money. She eyed the man suspiciously. “Um- why are you paying for my food?”
“Don't like these money folk,” the man replied shortly. “And I don't like to see them screw up normal people's lives.”
“Um- forgive me, but you don't look like a poor man yourself.”
Saige was right. The man's neck was hung with garlands of silver, gold and bronze, ears studded with chains and glinting gems. He laughed.
“Not anymore. But I ain't foreign to that life.”
Suddenly, there was a crash at a nearby stall. A vendor was brandishing a short sword at a blonde man, hoop earrings glinting in the sunlight, who was swinging over a table and beginning to make a run for it.
“PIRATES!” came the yell.
The market was thrown into chaos as salespeople frantically tried to protect their stock and customers clutched at their purses. In the distance, guardsmen snapped to attention, pushing towards the commotion.
“Oh, you idiot, Jim,” the scarred man groaned, figure tense and alert. He swore under his breath. “Need to get back…”
He scanned the crowd for an opening. There was none. Saige bit her lip, considering her choices, and grabbed at the man's arm.
“Come on.”
“Get off-”
“I'm helping you! Come on!”
She pulled him behind the stall into an alleyway, running down the narrow side-streets she knew so well. The man wrenched his arm out of Saige's grip, but sprinted after her.
After about five minutes, they emerged out of the gridlock of buildings onto the outskirts of the dock. Other than the cawing gulls, there was not a single person around. Both Saige and the man were bent double, panting.
Eventually, he straightened up.
“Thank you.”
Saige nodded, wiping her wavy hair out of her eyes. “A favour for a favour.” She raised her eyebrows at the man. “You're a pirate.”
The scarred man nodded, smiling charmingly. “Captain Vex, at your service.”
Saige swallowed. Now that she thought about it, she had seen this face before, on wanted posters and bulletins. How peculiar to have helped one of the coast's most condemned criminals.
He turned, looking out towards the docks. “I must be going. My crew will be waiting. But I do thank you once again.”
Saige nodded, voice temporarily lost, and watched as the man swung over the sea wall onto the boardwalk below. He landed softly on his worn leather boots, glancing upwards at Saige. And with a smile and a wave, he was gone.

778/600

total 1801

My Character:

Dera Sinclaire Laine

Name: Dera Sinclaire Laine
Age: 16
Pronouns: she/her
Appearance: Dark orange wavy hair (mostly pulled back in a ponytail), grey eyes, 6 or more ear piercings (mostly on the lower half of the lobe).
Hobbies & Interests: Motorcycling, ice skating, skateboarding. Surprisingly, she likes to play captain ball, read books, chess, and play the guitar.

Personality: Smart, baddie, tomboy, calm, sarcastically funny at times. Loving and loyal to people she's close with.

Occupation: Student in high school. Works part-time as a barista at a cozy coffee shop near her school.

Secret Powers: Fire powers- SHH DON'T SPILL
Flaws/Weaknesses: Can be arrogant at times, naive at times. Isn't aware of things when she's focused on something.

Strengths: Knows parkour and karate, smart (as aforementioned…).
Friends: many people. Names are: Charlene, Krist, Collin, Marnenn, and others.

Clothes: Black leather jacket over a beige camisole, usually paired with jeans and a brown belt.

Accessories: 6 or more earrings, usually gold, black, or dark blue rings. More fancier earrings for special occasions. Sometimes wears a choker. Wears 1+ rings, and bangles randomly.

Reddish-orange rimmed glasses when she needs them (she's rather longsighted).


Character Mood Board (link):
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1286934090

Character Mood Board Explanation:
1. I chose the mutiple earrings because Dera has multiple earrings. Also because it's a black and white picture
2. Added the misty smoke because it was mysterious, like Dera
3. Cats are liked by me (and Dera). Chose it because it had slightly dark tones, and was (also) mysterious.
4. Well the moon's nice. + mysterious.
5. Used AI to make Dera's picture (NO HATE YOU GUYS, not good at drawing)
6. Used AI to make a mystical fairy (mystic, like Dera)
7. A sun rising on a magical and mystic world (ik ik sorry for reusing mystic again )
8. Wolf bc Dera likes them, and is a bit like them
9. Love the burning flowers, and Dera is like fire as well, so yeah.

Character who I swapped for:

Weekly #1 Character Sheet - 270 words
Full Name: Clarice Mei-Lin Ng (“Clarice” pronounced “Cluh-reese”)
Nickname: Ris (pronounced “Reese”)
Age: 16
Occupation: Student, part-time library assistant
Residence: Port Douglas, Queensland, Australia — a sunlit seaside town full of colorful markets, turquoise waters, and quiet streets lined with bougainvillea. Its beaches are perfect for reflection, the jungle just behind town holds secrets, and the seasonal tourist rush makes everyone feel both invisible and observed.
Physical Characteristics
Ris has dark brown hair that refuses to behave, curling when she wants it straight and lying flat when she tries to add volume. Olive-toned skin often smudged with pen ink betrays her habit of carrying uncapped pens. Grey-brown eyes miss nothing — perceptive, calculating, and sometimes unnerving. She’s tall for her age but moves quietly, like she’s apologizing for taking up space. A faint scar slices her left eyebrow, a souvenir from a childhood misadventure. She dresses neatly but practically: oversized sweaters, structured coats, lace-up boots. Function over fashion.
Personality Characteristics
Ris is analytical to a fault, dissecting conversations like experiments. She notices hesitation, omission, subtle body language. Loyal selectively, she loves with terrifying intensity. Dry, academic humor, delivered deadpan, often confuses people. She rarely cries in front of others, struggles to admit mistakes, and dislikes unpredictability. Beneath the control, she is soft — memorizing her sister Candice’s routines, writing secret poetry, keeping ticket stubs and memories hidden.
Strengths
Observant
Strategic thinker
Loyal beyond reason
Calm in crisis
Skilled liar when needed
Weaknesses
Holds grudges
Overthinks everything
Struggles to apologize
Terrified of vulnerability
Can be emotionally distant
Family & Relationships
Younger sister: Candice Ng (13) — loud, expressive, chaotic. Candice steals her sweaters, leaves glitter trails, and unknowingly pulls out Ris’s softer side. Ris would never admit she sleeps lightly until Candice is safe.
Mother: Practical, high-expectation, occasionally frustrating.
Best friend: Alicia Li — the only person allowed unfiltered access to Ris’s interior world. Late-night talks, shared sarcasm, secret laughter, and mutual loyalty define their friendship.

Writing with swapped character (500+):



“You ready?” My mom asked as I got into the front seat of the car.
“Ready as ever,” I replied. “You know I always have hair problems.” With a sigh, I pulled my seatbelt on, fastening it with a click.
“Well, we can't have you looking as if you just came out of bed,” my mom said as we pulled away from our house to my writing camp.
I rolled my eyes. “Look, if that happens, It's because I DID just wake up. And it's Monday. Everyone will look like that.”
My mom did not reply for some time, focused on driving. Then, she spoke. “Clarice, I know it's hard for you being to camp for the first time. But will you please look presentable and act well?”

I thought about it for a while, trying to hide my boredom. People always said that I always listened to instructions and they went one ear in, one ear out. Well, that wasn't true. I just didn't want to spend my energy saying “yes” to something that wasn't worth it. So I just nodded and said a tiny “yes”.

My mom straightened, showing me she was tired of this conversation, and maybe, of me. Then she continued driving like nothing was wrong. “Well, there's going to be at least an your's drive to camp, so you can sleep.”

I was not in the mood for sleeping. Instead, I pulled out my phone and texted my best friend, Alicia. “See you at camp,” I sent. Almost immediately, I got a reply. “See you, Ris.” then “I'll be there late. Survive for me.”

I closed my phone, then focused on watching the cars around me, using math with each number to try to get all of them to ten. Sometimes, it added up perfectly, but mostly not. It was a very quiet car ride, until a black sudan overtook our car with just inches to spare. That was the last straw. My mother honked loudly.

“Stupid, stupid idiot. Doesn't he know that if he makes one risky move, all out lives are to spare?” she muttered angrily, asking no one.

It was then that I decided to pretend to sleep, so I would not be talked to. The rest of the drive went along smoothly. When we arrived, I got out of the car, collecting my bags from the trunk and rushing a goodbye to my mom.

I walked towards the entrance of the Charine Curote Main Hall, where introductions and speeches for my camp would be made. As soon as I entered, I felt reassured, and perhaps a little nervous. Would my deadlines be near? Would I get the lowest score?

Well, one thing was for sure. I would try my best to win at camp, and have fun. Not only was this a writing camp, it also had a lot of games.

“Welcome, welcome, all,” a man with a medium-sized moustache, a medium-sized height, who had moderate looks, and a jolly countenance. “Without further ado, let us start the writing camp!”

A lady with dark purple hair and green eyes took the stage and the microphone from the man. She smiled.

“We are glad to have you here. I am Graille Crosly, co-host of the third annual Craston Writing Camp. Here is my co-host, Barr Nocton. Together, we will be briefly relating to you the rules and activities of our camp. Let us begin…”

Turns out camp might be better than I had expected. However, I hoped it wouldn't be too surprising. I hated to get too caught up with change.

To Be Continued



Swapped character meets my og character (600+):



After announcements and groupings were made, Mr. Barr received the microphone from Ms. Graille. “Your counselors will show you your rooms, and we will take an hour's break. You must be back here before an hour is up, because lunch will be served first come, first served.”

My group was the Poets, and the leader was a man called Chris. He showed us our rooms, explaining that there would be four people to a room, as in each room there were two bunk beds, and there were sixteen of us.

Then Chris said, “Which one of you does not want to bunk with others? You may go now.”

But no one said so, so we all went to our rooms. I was in a room with three other girls: Libby, Lazuli, and Khidjah. I quickly unpacked, taking the right top bunk bed. Lazuli took the one below mine, Libby took the top left bed, and Khidjah took the bottom left bed.

When we all had freshened up and unpacked fully, Libby asked if we should all introduce ourselves. After all, we were going to be together for a month. Everyone agreed, and so went the following:

Libby spoke first. “Hi, I'm Libby, but you can call me Bee. I'm 15 years old, come from Tennessee, and love the colors reddish-brown and green.”

Dera spoke next. “Hey girls! I'm Dera, I'm 16 years old, come from New York, and love the colors royal blue, fuchsia, and red.”

Khidjah looked to me as if to ask if I wanted to go next, but I shook my head. I wanted to observe everyone and not get carried away with talking.

“Hi, everyone, I'm Khidjah. Guess you can call me Jay. I'm 13 years old, come from Australia, and love the colors sky blue, aqua, and hunter green.”

I spoke then. “Hello all, I'm Clarice, you can all call me Ris. I'm 16 years old, come from Australia, and I like the colors black, yellow, and red.”

“Ookay then. Let's get this party started!” Dera said, standing up and heading for the door. I assembled a few essentials in a shoulder bag, slung it over my shoulder, and followed her outside.

“Hi, Ris,” Dera said, leading me to the main hall. “Soo, is this your first time here?”

“Very easy to tell,” I said.

“Wow, someone's grumpy. But you know, I think I'm starting to like that side of you. Observing, brooding, thinking.” She tucked a strand of her dark orange hair behind her ear.

I sighed. “Well, looks like I'm not the only one who's observant. Do you like to read?”

“Yes. Do you?”

We arrived at the main hall “Yep.”

“To be discussed later, then,” Dera left my side to join some of her other friends, some guys from the Playwriting and Sci-Fi group. I figured she was kind of a tomboy and liked being tough.

Discovering the lunch line, I queued up and got pizza, coleslaw, and fizzling lemonade. But now - where to sit? As I looked around, I spotted my best friend, Alicia, entering. I put my food down on an empty table and went to her.

“Hi there,” Alicia said. “Any ideas as to which group is my group?”

I shook my head no. “Honestly, Cia, I don't know. I think there were a few groups today who were missing one person, but they didn't state their names. All I know is that my group is full.”

“Aww, Ris,” Alicia said as she set down her bags across from where I had put my food. “You gotta make new friends.”

Before I could retort that I had enough friends as it was, she left for the lunch line, leaving me to eat for some time. The food was average, with no signs of anything having spoiled.

Dera came over. “Was that your friend just now? She looks so cool.”

I sighed. “Leave me alone, okay? Just do whatever you were doing. I'm good, and I'll talk to you at night.”

“But- Ah, never mind. I guess see you.”

So that was a merry end to our conversation. Sarcastic if you didn't know. Well, at least I was looking forward to winning in my group and helping my group to win. I couldn't wait for the activities to start. (and no, that last one wasn't sarcasm.)

The End
(To Be Continued?)


FINALLY FINISHED THOUGH I'M SICK WOOHOO!!! *Achoo… cough cough *