SWC Megathread ‧₊˚❀༉‧ July 2026

VioAquaCat

Word War w/ @FlamingoTesting
240 words, no prompt, 5 minutes,

Leaves crackled under Jack’s feet as he went tearing after the little bot. Mina had ran into the woods, being the little trickster that she was. Jack had never been in the forest, he had always thought it strange and dangerous with whatever animals or bugs it might hide. The City was much safer, even with all the… questionable people.
Jack felt uneasy in the forest, so he was glad when at last he reached Mina. They were perched on the branch of the tree, grinning down at Jack with the ‘

’ face.
Jack glared at her. “Mina! Get down from there!”
Mina did. And then she started sprinting away again.
Jack groaned, but gave chase, his leather boots making gouges in the soft forerst floor. “Mina!” He called out again.
Jack was gaining on her! She was about ten yards away now- if he just sped up a bit he could..
A hand reached out and grabbed Mina suddenly.
Jack skidded to a stop, heart racing. What was that.
"What's this?” Said a voice Jack didn’t recognize. A tall boy, about Jack’s age with short brown hair and rugged clothes stepped into the clearing. He was holding Mina up to his eye, examining her face which now had the ‘D:<’ expression.
“Give that back!” Jack snapped, rushing forward to try to take it from the boy.
The boy lifted his arm, holding Mina above Jack’s head.
“Who are you?”

Last edited by VioAquaCat (July 6, 2026 16:09:26)

icebunny11

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

◪ Noͦ 6
Wordcount: 469/450
Topic: You need to write in this specific screenplay format
Points: 500+150 for proof
Cabin: Dystopian-Xenofi love child

The scene starts with curtains in front of the viewer's sight, creating the illusion that they are sitting in the crowd of a stage instead. There are drumrolls in the background before the red curtains slowly start to pull open, golden threads lifting from the side.

They slowly start to open…

They slowly start to open…

They slowly start to open…

The audience groans, as do you, watching the curtain open with the speed at which Jax decides to apologize for his cruel nature, which is lowkey never </3 Actually, were they even opening at all? The curtains start to jerk as if they were closing and opening at the same time, forming some sort of optical illusion that didn't make sense at all. The velvety cloth starts to shake as if the entire support is being beaten up by a massive monster, and suddenly, instead of the actors coming out from behind the curtains, they actually descend from the sky.

Instead of the illusion of being in the crowd in front of a stage, the viewer actually gets transported to a crowd in front of a stage, watching the stage actors come down as if floating. In front of you is a banana, an apple, and a king. No, not an actual king, a king chess piece. However, this chess piece is not actually a chess piece- it is actually an eggplant carved out in the shape of a rook. What is happening?

The banana has decided to peel itself open, revealing another banana inside. Inside the inside banana, it doesn't look like it is made from banana at all, rather made from the goopy fruit from the goopy tree.

Goopy fruit from the goopy tree banana: Howdy folks! Welcome to our show!

Actually, the banana changes its mind and screams in agony, wondering how it could have said such a thing with a straight face. It explodes, leaving the stage a mess of goopy fruit.

The apple starts to cry and also starts to use the eggplant rook piece king chess piece to wipe its tears, when the tears are really citric acid, which is odd because apples don't have citric acid; they have malic acid, but the writer of this screenplay isn't thinking straight. For some reason, when the eggplant rook piece king chess piece mixed with the citric acid, it created sulphuric acid, burning the apple and causing it to poof away in a smoke.

The eggplant rook piece king chess piece starts to shake slowly, buzzing away like it has mini eggplant rook piece king chess pieces inside of it, looking like it is about to have a midlife crisis. The eggplant rook piece king chess piece then turns red and blends into the background.

The curtains open.

what have I DONE.

VioAquaCat

Word War w/ @SkaterCat17
365 words, prompted, 7 minutes,

They say home is where the heart is. Unfortunately, I left mine in our old apartment. I’m not a big fan of my current house. Wretched thing it is- all creaky steps and faded wallpaper. The kitchen faucet leaks and the toilet flushes about half the time. Bugs are everywhere. But I can usually deal with all that- heaven knows I’ve lived in worse. The real bad thing about this place is she’s not here.
I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I thought moving into my own place would be refreshing, liberating, fun, exciting, or at the very least- a hopeful new beginning. This is none of that though. I can;t even sleep at night with memories of how we used to laugh together, eat together, cuddle together. My life is empty now.
I at last decide I need to get out of my house. I swing my pack over my shoulder and head out, intending to go to the community gardens for some fresh air. I get side tracked however, and three hours later I find myself crying on a bench while staring at pictures from when I use to live in the apartment with her. It hits me then that its really over. She’s really gone. It’s over.
Its over.
Its over.
I repeat that in my mind again and again and again.
Someone at last asks if I’m okay. A random stranger on the street, who saw me crying. Sweet, young. He lets me hug him and cry on his shoulder, even though we hardly know each other. I tell him my name, he tells me his. He invites me to coffee with him. I accept, and he helps me calm down. We chat for a while before he has to leave. Tells me to call him if I ever need anything.
I’m grateful for him, though I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to ever call him again.
Still. It’s nice to know there are people who care.
I’m back in my house now, sitting on my couch. I need to do something. Lying here isn't good for me. I don’t know what to do though.

spr1ngt1m3summ3rrr

❥・@OctopusGhost
Wordcount・233
Prompt・“Oh come on, I just wanted to hang out with the octopus!”
Points・100 for winning (+25 for a prompt)
Cabin・Bi-fi

Oh, mom, I just wanted to hang out with the octopus!!“ I groaned. I wasn't in that big a of a rush to get to school that day, either, I was actually early! My mom usually wasn't strict either, she just seemed a bit stressed today since she wasn't sure what to do about an issue at work she had been dealing with. Mom dragged me away from the octopus quickly before I could get upset about it, but the octopus followed at the same speed happily. I reched out to it with my other hand, hoping to at least pat it on the head since it was coming towards me, but eventually it got worn out and stopped following. I sighed and swam my way to school, hoping to have a chance to doodle it on one of my papers that day. I got to my classroom and immediately snatched a sheet of paper to draw a small comic of the twi of us goijg on many adventure in the ocean, such as looting a sunken ship for treasure and being robbed of said treasure. In the comic we were best friends and were proffesionals in the area of, well, hunting for treasure! there was no other team in the sea that could follow maps as good as us and- ”Sandy? Please pay attention to the lession and not daydream about creatures."

AGJ4

CHARACTERS:

TOM: a grumpy old cat who wants Dot out of the house.

JACK: One of Tom's owners, who always sees a glass half full.

FELICIA: Tom's other owner, who is oblivious to her cats.

DOT: A young cat with a lot of energy and a big mouth.

ACT 1: THE LIVING ROOM

Tom sits on the couch, looking bored. Suddenly, the door opens and Jack and Felicia walk into the room, carrying a box.

Jack: Tom! We have a surprise for you.

Felicia: I think you'll like it.

She opens the box, and Dot pops out and jumps on Tom.

Dot: Hello! Hello! Hello! Aren't you excited to meet me? I just love meeting new people! I think we're going to be friends. What do they feed you here?

Tom (interrupting her): Who are you, and what are you doing on my house?

Jack: Tom, this is Dot! We got her from the shelter, because she's so cute and you seemed lonely. So now we have another cat around to keep you company!

Tom: Noooooo! Take her back! She'll talk my ears off! Help!

Felicia: I can see you two are already best friends! We'll go make dinner while you two get to know each other.

Tom: Nooooooooo!

Dot: Aren't they so nice? I like them a lot. They're a lot better than my old owners and they don't even have a dog! My friend at the shelter said her old owners had a dog…

ACT 2: THE KITCHEN

Felicia: Come and get your food, you two!

Dot runs into the kitchen.

Dot: Oh, it looks so good! So much better than shelter food. Do you eat this all the time, Tom?

Dot takes a bite of the food, right as Tom comes into the kitchen.

Tom: That's my bowl! You can't eat out of my bowl! You're stealing my food!

Jack: Oh, Tom, I forgot to tell you! We don't have a bowl for Dot yet, so you two will have to share, just until we get her a new bowl.

Tom: I'm not sharing with HER!

Dot: It's okay, I'm done now.

Dot walks out of the kitchen as Tom goes to the bowl.

Tom: It's empty!! Dot!!

He runs into the living room, only to find Dot sleeping.

Felicia: Tom, don't wake her up, she looks so cute and peaceful when she's sleeping.

Jack: She does, doesn't she? Those little ears!

Tom swipes at Dot

Tom: Wake up, you stupid kitten!

Dot just rolls over.

Felicia: Tom! You're going to have to be nice to Dot, or we'll put you in the kennel!

Tom (ignoring her): GET UP!!!!

Felicia: Tom!

She picks him up and carries him away, as he looks over her shoulder at the kitten who has stolen his house.

LovegoodLady

daily 6! I can't tell what I think of this one… it feels creepy in the way I want it to, but I'm not sure I put enough symbolism into it. 581 words.

A teenage girl, LEIGH, stands at the edge of a cliff. Wind whips at her hair.

LEIGH.

(softly) Once upon a time….

A bedraggled bird swoops down beside her, pecking at the remains of a mangled squirrel.

LEIGH (cont).

There was a princess, stuck inside a tower with a mean old witch.

She looks up at the sky. Clouds are gathering.

LEIGH (cont).

A few months before the princess was born, her mother developed an insatiable craving for rampion. Without, she said, she would die.

The bird, oblivious to LEIGH's words, continues pecking at the squirrel.

LEIGH (cont).

So she had her husband climb into a witch's garden to get her some. But the witch was watching, and told the man he could take the rampion only if he promised her one thing…

More birds begin to circle above the squirrel.

LEIGH (cont).

When the baby was born, the couple would give her to the witch.

Rain begins to fall

LEIGH (cont).

The man, desperate, agreed, taking the rampion back home to his wife. Soon after, the baby was born.

Thunder booms, and the birds swoop down towards the squirrel.

LEIGH (cont).

The witch burst into their house, demanding the child. The two begged and pleaded, but it was no use. A promise was a promise, she said.

The birds fly off, leaving only a red stain on the grass behind.

LEIGH (cont).

She stole the child and ran to the woods, building a tower around her with the blink of an eye.

The rain gets heavier, soaking LEIGH.

LEIGH (cont).

The tower was tall, without stairs or doors. Just a small window at the top. Years passed, and the princess got older.

Lightning strikes a spot near her. LEIGH doesn't seem to noticed.

LEIGH (cont).

The witch did not cut her hair— it grew longer and longer, until she could hang it from the window of the tower and let the witch climb up.

The rain forms a puddle beneath her, soaking her shoes and the grass around them.

LEIGH (cont).

One day, a prince came riding near the palace and heard the princess singing. He was entranced.

LEIGH looks up at the sky for the first time, expressionless.

LEIGH (cont).

He rode by the tower every day for weeks, silently listening to her sweet voice. One day, finally, he calls out to her.

She lets the rain run down her face, droplets scattered across her cheeks.

LEIGH (cont).

Your voice is so beautiful, he says, you must be a songbird in disguise. Will you come home with me?

A bit of rain pools up on the bridge of her nose as thunder booms again.

LEIGH (cont).

The princess had never heard such words before, and was delighted. But she knew it was impossible.

LEIGH moves her gaze from the sky to the edge of the cliff.

LEIGH (cont).

I can't, she tells him. Why not? he asks in return. There are no doors, no stairs, she says.

As she looks down, a small smile spreads on her face for the first time.

LEIGH (cont).

Just jump, he says. I'll catch you. Okay, she agrees. She jumps, falling down, down, down…

LEIGH takes a step forward.

LEIGH (cont).

He does not catch her.

She jumps.

tsukiverse

July 6 - Screenplay Daily

EXT. CAER VEYRA — DAWN

They say the sun once touched this city. Now it only stares from a distance.

A dim wash of color bleeds through the smog—amber, bruised violet, the grey of old bone. It spills across a thousand spires that pierce the haze like needles threading smoke. This is Caer Veyra. The city that forgot the sky.

The towers rise from the bones of older ages, stacked atop ruins that predate memory. At night, those ruins hum. Not loudly—just enough to remind you something is still down there, breathing in a language no living tongue remembers.

The air carries it everywhere: the faint bite of metal, the ghost of incense, the smell of a world half-sacred and half-corroded.

Beneath the cobblestones, warmth pulses upward through the stone—steady, slow, ancient. The Ley-Heart. That buried engine the priests insist keeps the world alive. No one has laid eyes on it in five centuries.

But they feel it. Every soul in Caer Veyra feels it—a deep, rhythmic throb rising through the soles of their feet, keeping time with something far older than gods. A heartbeat. Patient. Waiting.

INT. CROOKED TOWER - EAST QUARTER - MORNING

Dawn seeps through the city's haze in pale, reluctant light. A narrow room halfway up a leaning tower—every window canted at its own angle, roof tiles groaning under the weight of old weather. Parchment covers every surface. Oil lamps burn low, nearly spent.

ELARA sits hunched at a cluttered desk, hands smudged black with ink and dust. She hasn't slept. The evidence is written in the hollows beneath her eyes, the rigid set of her shoulders. Before her, a sprawling map traces subterranean roads—the forgotten veins of a buried world.

She drags a quill along a faint line on the parchment, following it with the focused intensity of someone who has been following it for three days straight.

A MEMORY surfaces—unbidden, as it always does. Deep below the crypts of the Archive: a wall dense with runes that glowed faintly at her touch. Warm. Alive. The archivists called it myth. She called it a door she hadn't yet learned to open. The runes spoke of Skyborne gates—cities adrift, hidden beyond sight, tethered to the earth by invisible chains of magic and faith.

She has never been able to forget that warmth beneath her fingertips.

Three nights ago, the sky split open. A streak of silver fire tore across the clouds and vanished behind the western cliffs. The air tasted of ozone and old rain. Every bird in Caer Veyra went silent at once.

She told herself it was a falling star. She told herself it meant nothing.

Now, as dawn shivers through the narrow window, something catches her eye—a glimmer in the far distance. A pulse of light, faint as a lantern seen through fog, beating in slow, steady rhythm. Her hand stills over the parchment. Her own heartbeat answers it.

She stares at it for a long moment. Then she sets down her quill.

ELARA
(quietly, to herself)
Not today. Not again.

She presses her fingers to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. The tower creaks around her—a low, familiar groan of old timber settling.

From somewhere far below, the morning bells begin to hum through the stone walls of the East Quarter. Slow. Resonant. Inevitable.

ELARA opens her eyes. The distant light still pulses. Waiting.

EXT. EASTERN GATE - DAY

Ash falls from a colorless sky—not snow, not rain. A fine gray mist of it, settling over cobblestones like a second skin.

CORREN approaches the gate alone. He wears travel leathers burnt at the edges, a long scarf that might once have been blue. No weapon. No pack. Just the road behind him and something unreadable in his bearing.

The guards stiffen before he even speaks. His eyes are pale as winter glass—frost carved into the irises. The kind of eyes that have seen things they shouldn't have survived.

The CAPTAIN OF THE EASTERN GATE steps forward, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

CAPTAIN OF THE EASTERN GATE
Name?

CORREN smiles. Slow. Practiced. The smile of a man who has answered this question many times, in many gates, in many cities.

CORREN
Call me CORREN.

CAPTAIN OF THE EASTERN GATE
Purpose of visit?

CORREN glances toward the horizon. The ash thickens, coating the cobbles in pale gray. Somewhere in the distance, a clocktower tolls—deep, mournful, and slightly off-key, as though even time here has gone a little wrong.

CORREN
Cartography. I'm here to find what's been forgotten.

The CAPTAIN studies him a long moment. Something about the
answer bothers him. He can't say what.

CAPTAIN OF THE EASTERN GATE
You and half the fools who come through here. Move along.

CORREN dips his head—not quite a bow—and walks on.

As he passes beneath the iron archway, his fingers trail almost casually across the stone. They find a sigil etched into the arch—old work, worn smooth by weather and years.

The sigil flares faintly, in recognition.

CORREN doesn't break stride. He doesn't look back.

No one notices.

EXT. CITY MARKET - EVENING

The city hums with restless energy. Rumors move through the crowd like smoke—whispers of something fallen from the sky, passed between scholars, merchants, and holy-men alike. The priests speak of divine penance. The merchants speak of profit.

ELARA speaks to no one. She drifts through the market alone, eyes darting between stalls cluttered with glass trinkets and rune-etched scraps. The crowd presses around her—thieves brushing shoulders with holy-men, scholars elbowing through the throng—all of them chasing the same ghost of a rumor.

Then she sees him. CORREN leans against a pillar of cracked marble, still as stone amid the chaos. His frost-colored eyes are already on her. He doesn't move when she notices him—only inclines his head slightly, as if acknowledging something already understood between them.

ELARA crosses to him, jaw set.

ELARA
Do I know you?

CORREN
Not yet. But you've been looking for the same thing I have.

ELARA
I doubt that.

CORREN smiles—faint, unhurried.

CORREN
The Skybound. You seek their gates, don't you?

ELARA goes still. The name has never left her lips outside the Archive. The market noise seems to recede.

ELARA
How-

CORREN
(quietly)
Because I fell from one.

A beat. Somewhere in the crowd, someone laughs—distant and hollow. The oil lamps flicker, painting CORREN's face in alternating shadow and firelight. ELARA searches his expression for a lie. She wants to laugh. She wants to run.

ELARA
(barely above a whisper)
Prove it.

CORREN reaches into his coat and draws out a fragment of metal—shaped like a feather, but humming faintly with inner light. It wasn't forged. It grew. Crystalline and impossible, its edges catching the lamplight in colors that have no name.

He places it in her hand.

The world tilts.

ELARA'S VISION: Towers suspended above the clouds, chained to the earth by rivers of living light. Figures with wings of smoke, their eyes like molten gold. A city that burns without flame, eternal and silent.

Then—gone.

The metal feather cools in her palm, dull and inert. ELARA exhales, her breath unsteady. She stares at the fragment a long moment before looking back up at him.

ELARA (CONT'D)
What do you want from me?

CORREN's faint smile fades. For the first time, something raw moves behind those frost-colored eyes.

CORREN
To go home.

—

1294 words

LovegoodLady

Weekly 1. Welcome to Ilawen!

Research: Part the First
- Rules of magic; are there limits? Consequences? Laws?

- Type of magic; elemental, specific abilities, freeform, bound to objects?

- Technology level; medieval-style, ambiguous, modern

- Universe; secret communities, another realm, et cetera

- Mythical creatures! from mythology, made up, from folklore, slightly altered?

- Species; elves, ogres, angels, demons, witches, wizards, dwarves

- Geography; one large kingdom, multiple warring ones, peaceful kingdoms, unexplored lands

- Plants; normal, carnivorous, magical properties

- How does magic work? Spells, wishes, energy, et cetera?

ideas:

- a magic-strict world where magic can only be used by nobles! magic is elemental, with hints of seer magic. technology level is ambiguous. universe is a secret community-type, hidden away from the normal world. no mythical creatures or plants, species is entirely human! No geography needed, but there are warring covens inside of the magic system. magic works by energy.

- magic surrounds items only, and can be used by anyone. in an ambiguous-modern tech world, people are chasing magical items in attempts to harness their magic… some plants have magical properties, but they're fickle. There are mythical creatures, including jackalopes and water serpents! Different items have different magic. No wars ongoing… more of a cozy free-roam land.

Worldbuilding: Part the Second

Long ago, a daemon tricked an angel into coming out into the moonlight, turning her to ivory… her lover wept tears of gold upon the land that would one day come to be known as Ilawen, infusing the earth and air with magic. Objects that absorbed this magic would acquire magical properties of various kinds, from granting the user flight to melting off people's faces. Today, these objects are scattered all over Ilawen, and brave adventurers go on quests to find them.

There are two types of Adventurers: Noble and Rogue. Noble Adventurers work for the Order of Enchanted Artifacts in an attempt to harness their power and contain the dangerous ones inside the Vault. Rogue Adventurers work for no one but themselves, hunting down artifacts for more personal uses. Rogue Adventurers and Noble Adventurers are constantly at odds, both having deep loathings for each other and often fighting over artifacts. Nobles claim that Rogues are selfish and reckless, while Rogues claim that Nobles are stuffy and privileged.

The Order of Enchanted Artifacts is the closest thing Ilawen has to a government; pretty much all of Ilawen is made up of unclaimed land (typically scattered with ships, caravans, and wagons). The Order is made up of experienced (and often retired) Noble Adventurers, and their sole purpose is to contain the enchanted artifacts in Ilawen.

They're fairly corrupted, as they're secretly attempting to hoard all of the artifacts for themselves.

Mythical creatures include dragons, jackalopes, kitsunes, water serpents, firebirds, griffins, kraken, death worms, and some rare ghostly spirits! They're categorized below:

Everyday animals, similar to squirrels, birds, or lizards: Jackalopes, kitsunes, firebirds, griffins, death worms, dragons

Pets, similar to cats or dogs: Jackalopes, griffins, dragons

Dangerous animals, similar to a python, shark, or tiger: Kraken, water serpents, ghosts/spirits

It's mainly a light-hearted, fluffy fantasy world, but there are dangers hidden beneath…

Story: Part the Third

Dragons soared overhead, making loop-de-loops through the clouds.

Fen watched them with a small smile on her face.

She was seventeen today, and nothing could stop her from hopping on one of those dragons and loop-de-looping her way across Ilawen.

At seventeen, she was officially allowed to be on her own.

At seventeen, she was officially allowed to run away.

As the sun rose over the clouds, Fen slipped her bag over her shoulder and gave her childhood home one last look.

“Goodbye,” she said softly. “Maybe my adventures will bring me back here someday.”

Although she didn't have very many good memories there, she treasured the ones she had. And she would never forget them.

But there was more for her out there than there was here. Especially in terms of magical artifacts.

Fen whistled, and Tumble swooped down to the ground.

He tilted his head and grunted, tiny bursts of flames coming out of his nostrils.

She patted him on the head and swung her leg over his side, clumsily grabbing onto his neck.

“Shoo!” she intoned. Tumble lifted his wings and lifted off.

A burst of air hit Fen smack in the face, and she smiled. There was simply no feeling like flying.

It was time to go find some artifacts.

***

(time skip to around a year later)

Fen and Tumble soared above the land, making loop-de-loops through the clouds.

Fen shrieked happily as Tumble did a nosedive towards the ground and swooped back up, just barely holding on to her overflowing satchel.

The dragon landed safely a few minutes later, and she slumped against his side, sighing blissfully.

She patted Tumble on the snout and rummaged around in her bag, touching each artifact to make sure it was still there.

A map that could find anything. A flask that never ran out of water (so useful for long journeys). A pair of reading glasses that let the wearer see five minutes into the future. A flower wreath that could heal surface wounds. A knife that could cut doorways to anywhere out of thin air. And a ring that translated any foreign words into the language of the user.

Although almost all of them were incredibly useful for Fen's adventures, she tried to only use them when she absolutely needed to so she wouldn't be helpless without them.Although almost all of them were incredibly useful for Fen's adventures, she tried to only use them when she absolutely needed to so she wouldn't be helpless without them.

“Ready to go, Tumble?” she asked him.

Being a dragon, he did not respond. But he allowed Fen to climb onto his back, which was close enough for her.

They set off towards Cannonball Island, home to pirates infamous for hoarding the island's artifacts.

She was ready for a challenge.

They landed a few hours later, as stealthily as they could.

Fen surveyed the area. No pirates yet. She knew most of them would be at their ship, which was docked at the opposite edge of the island, but it couldn't hurt to be careful. Plus, the other ships could return at any moment.

She tread forward, wishing she had an invisibility artifact. Maybe that was what she would find here?

A glint of gold caught her eye after just a few minutes, and she whipped towards it.

A compass! She grinned. “How lucky am I, to find an artifact almost immediately after I land? That never happens,” she said to Tumble.

However, no matter what she did, the compass would not do anything. She sighed, the grin dropping.

“Seems like a dud,” she said, shrugging. “Just a normal compass.”

She put it in her satchel anyways, just in case, and kept looking.

After one hour of scanning the trees, digging in the sand, and wading through the waters, she hadn't found anything.

She leaned back against a tree, annoyed.

A second later, she was dangling upside down by her ankle from a tree branch.

Fen cursed. The pirates.

“Tumble!” she hissed, making a shooing motion with her hands. “Hide!”

Tumble, by some miracle, managed to understand her motions. He flew off into the distance.

Fen was alone, but not for long…

(unfinished, as unfortunately, I have no idea how to continue this without making it like 3k words :'D)

Swap: Part the Fourth
world swap with jiyeon!

When Alexia woke up, it was dark. Dark in a way she had never felt before; dark in a way that threatened to consume her, bit by bit.

She blinked. The darkness did not falter.

When she had fallen asleep, she had been in her bed. She was not in her bed now.

No, she could feel bindings digging into her wrists from behind her back, the rough metal of the seat her legs were strapped to. Alexia was not at home.

She cursed under her breath and fingered the bracelet on her wrist.

Each bead had a different kind of magic— they had been glassblown with tiny pieces of artifacts inside. She had found it on a dock some years ago, noticed the energy that thrummed on her skin when she wore it, and had hardly taken it off since. She still didn't know what all of them did, but of those she knew, there wasn't one that didn't have the potential to perform miracles.

There was a small chance one of the beads could grant her sight, or something close to it.

Alexia fumbled with it for a moment, eventually finding a bead and pressing her finger to it, praying silently.

Nothing. She moved onto the next one.

And the next one. And the next one.

A few minutes later, she didn't know how many times she had gone around the bracelet. But she knew that none of them would help her right now.

She couldn't even feel their usual energy, which was odd.

But Alexia had more important things to focus on. Namely, figuring out why she had gone from her bed at home to a cold, dark room, tied to a metal chair. And how to get out.

She felt the air around her, trying to pull some of the magic from it.

She felt nothing.

The realization was a cold hand, squeezing her heart until she could hardly breathe.

She was tied to a metal chair without any light in a magic deadzone.

Alexia was nowhere near trained enough to perform a spell in a deadzone. She had learned the basics of spells only a few months ago, at her audition for Faeheim, and she had an enchanted bracelet. Artifacts relied on heavy amounts of magic in the air; deadzones were infamous for having close to none.

Magic was impossible.

Panic and bile rose up in her throat, forcing her to hack out a cough that left her dry throat screaming.

She might die here.

Alone. Terrified. Helpless.

The thought set in like rain, pouring down in her mind and eventually soaking everything.

She pulled at her bindings, but it was a halfhearted attempt. There was a reason she was hoping for a scholarship to Faeheim for magic, not sports.

A scholarship she might never get to see the turnout of.

A tear slid down her face, making her taste salt. She gladly took the small bit of fluid they offered, but it wasn't much. Not enough to make a difference.

Nothing would be.

She closed her eyes and let her thoughts slide into oblivion, a short relief from the hopelessness that surrounded her.

<3

Last edited by LovegoodLady (July 8, 2026 20:45:18)

Milkysplash

✧┊ July 6 - Daily 03
543 words ┊ 650 points

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SCENE 1
The bridge of the Pathfinder. Captain KAYLA HANSEN is seated in the centre of the bridge, with her first officer RENA MIYAZAKI standing beside her. In front of the captain and first officer are the members of the Pathfinder’s bridge crew standing at their various stations: helm officer Ensign ERINA HASEGAWA, communications officer Lieutenant ALIA ROWAN, tactical officer Lieutenant ARI EMRI ATAKAL, weapons officer Lieutenant-Commander TARA KYRETH, operations officer Lieutenant Alina WILLOWS, and science officer Lieutenant-Commander XANDER KRON. There are empty stations to accommodate additional crew members on the bridge that are not currently occupied.

The silence of the bridge as the Pathfinder is flying at warp speed is interrupted by the sound of a distress call from the communication officer’s station. ALIA immediately taps in her console, attempting to find the source of the distress call and various other information.

ALIA
Captain, we’ve received a distress call. It’s from a civilian ship in the Lanka Nebula, but we have no other identification on it. We’re currently seven minutes away by warp. They haven’t specified what the emergency is.

KAYLA
Then it is our duty as a Federation ship to assist. Ensign Hasegawa, change course to the Lanka nebula.

ERINA (nervously)
Yes, uh, right away Captain!

ERINA taps on her console, piloting the ship and changing its warp course.

KAYLA
Lieutenant Willows, please inform Dr A‘Lyandra that we may be taking on board some sick individuals. Tell Commander Rasmussen to keep Engineering on standby in case we experience some ship damage.

ALINA
Understood!

ALINA presses some buttons on her console.

KAYLA
Let’s go rescue this ship.

SCENE 2
The Pathfinder pulls out of warp speed into a nebula, where a much smaller civilian ship is waiting. It is stationary relative to the Pathfinder.

The camera zooms into the Pathfinder’s bridge window, showing the state of the bridge crew.

ARI EMRI ATAKAL
Shields are raised, sir.

ALIA
Captain? The ship is hailing us.

KAYLA
Open a channel.

ALIA
Channel established. You’re on.

KAYLA
I am Captain Kayla Hansen of the Federation exploratory fleet ship Pathfinder. We are responding to your distress call, could you please inform us of the situation?

LYON (over radio, confused)
We did not send out a distress signal, Captain. We are merely a-

EVERGREEN (from off and over radio, sounding panicked)
Help! Help, please help!

LYON (over radio and rattled)
Be quiet!

LYON (over radio)
As I was saying, we are merely a civilian cargo ship passing through this region and I do not recall sending out any sort of distress call. We will be on our way.

There is the sound of the channel being silenced.

RENA
I… don’t like the sound of that.

KAYLA
No. There was someone very definitely calling for our help, and everything is not okay down there. We should investigate.

There is a general murmur of agreement from the bridge crew members.

KAYLA
Commander Miyazaki, Ensign Hasegawa, Commander Taryn, and I will investigate as an away team. Commander Kron, the conn is yours.

XANDER
Aye, Captain.

ERINA, RENA, JUNO, and KAYLA get up from their stations and head to the back of the bridge and exit down a lift. XANDER moves from his science station to the captain’s chair on the bridge.

prishaJuni

Prisha's Thread

Daily 1: Letter to My Future Self (487 words)
Dear Prisha,
I have so, so, so many things I want to ask you, so I’m splitting this letter into parts both as a reflection to remind you of what I have accomplished and a series of questions to see what you have done. I’m not kidding–I literally just made an entire list so I would remember what to ask. You’ll be in high school by now.
First things first, how’s the book going? I know you’re probably working on some wip (I hope you have time for that lol), but did we finish our second book? I was really hoping to finish the draft by July, but I’m pretty sure that’s not happening. I love the premise, though, and I’m excited to finally write about these characters. Remember our first book? It was so bad–I can’t believe I thought it was publishable. I’m still querying it, but I’m not interested in changing it right now–maybe I’ll visit it again later.
Also, did you finally resume the academic grind? I hope you’re doing well in class, especially now that science olympiad is no longer a commitment. Did you decide to take math lessons, anyways? How’s the high school course load? Right now I’m gearing up for a final, torturous year of middle school. My friends suck, academics are painfully easy, and science olympiad is stressful. I just hope you’re doing better.
Now that science olympiad is over forever, what are you doing? What new things did you pick up, and what did you keep? How’s our spanish fluency, and did we finally pick up martial arts again? I’m thinking about starting it right now, but I’m still unsure about what type to do. I’m doing spanish, of course, because I’m determined to learn another language, but I’m curious about how far we got. Right now, we’re at the easy/medium end of beginner.
Right now, my stress management SUCKS, and, while it might just be because of science olympiad, I’m curious about how you manage stress. Is it less stressful without science olympiad, or does the course load compensate? Have you finally found a way to manage stress that works? Did we end up asking the doctor if we had some mental problem, or were we just too shy?
I’m unhappy with my friendships right now. It feels like I have a village, but not one that’s right for me. I don’t even know what the right village looks like, but it’s not this one. How are your friendships? Did you finally find your people? Who are you still friends with?
No matter what, always remember that we have drive. We have done so, so much just by persevering where others wouldn’t, and we will continue to achieve great things. Don’t worry about college–even the best schools aren’t as good on campus as they seem. Love yourself, and keep doing what you’re doing!
Ciao, Your Past Self

Scorpions and A Star Wars (starting of When Will My Life Begin from Tangled) (563 words)

Author’s Note: I misinterpreted the lyrics when I was really little, and my dad happened to have a video of it *sobs*. Please note that I have only seen three Star Wars movies and remember pretty much none of them, and that my knowledge of scorpions is… not a lot. I looked up a few summaries?
Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away… there lived a scorpion. Not just any scorpion. Scorpion Skywalker, maniacal metal-eating maniac and alliteration addict. But little did he know that his entire life was about to be upended.
Dig dig dig. Scorpion’s claws moved faster than a dog when it gets caught chewing power cables, inhaling the dust with his non-existent lungs (do scorpions have spiracles? If they’re not insects, what are they classified as?). The rich, dung-like scent of highly fertile soil filled his non-existent nostrils (Voldemort?), reminding him of the nursery he’d been born in. Oh, those were the good old days, when dung was still found everywhere. Before The Cleaning.
Scorpion groaned. There was no point mourning the loss of good dung–it wasn’t like the humans would ever drop their dung on the streets again. Something about it being unhygienic.
If only someone could overthrow the evil Rapunzel, so busy caring for her hair that all the rules she implemented were to benefit it and not the people. Or insects. Who cared if her hair had dung in it? That just meant she’d be more attractive to the real machos–like him–instead of that disgustingly smirky ex-criminal who she had decided to marry and make king.
Seriously–they needed to be overthrown. If only there was someone brave, strong, and macho enough to sting them both in the behinds and take over. If only…
Scorpion scuttled away from his pit and picked up the metal parts. The cup, wires, and car parts would fit, but the poles were too tall.
Rumble. Scorpion eyed the horizon uneasily. It was hard to tell if those rumbles were earthquakes or the Clorox Wipes. He eyed his space–sandy, messy, and speckled with the occasional dung (hey, a scorpion needs his dung, okay?). He thought of the disgustingly sharp, lemony smell of the Clorox Wipes as they charged and “cleaned” his spot, leaving nothing behind but white and wetness. With a shudder, he dropped the poles and hurriedly buried his remaining metal parts. It was better to have some than none.
Then, he burrowed under the ground, waiting.

Ladybug Skywalker wasn’t your average ladybug. She wasn’t pretty, lady-like, or even red. But she had her strengths.
Ladybug eyed the Clorox Wipes nearing her headquarters. She loaded her sixteen cannons with aphids (they were getting compensated handsomely, don’t worry), preparing to strike. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of neat freaks vandalize her home.
Seriously–how was nature considered dirty now? She missed the old rulers, who let the insects do their own thing and even offered gifts in exchange for submission. Her mouth watered at the thought of seasoned aphid stew, cooked only the way a royal chef could. She eyed the aphids in her cannons.
You can’t eat them, she told herself. They’re your only shot at survival. She steeled herself with the promise to invade the royal kitchens and prepared to strike.

Le_lake

7/6 - 481 words

The scene opens in a wide shot, showing the bare-bones room Esther is sitting in. There are bandages on her forehead and her arm is in a sling, healing scratches are on her face. There is a knock on the door.
RAVEN: Essie?
Esther’s face visibly brightens.
ESTHER: Raven! I didn’t expect you to come visit.
Raven shrugs and enters the room, standing beside the bed Esther is in.
RAVEN: It was kind of my fault that you got hurt, I wanted to come check on you.
Raven sits on the edge of Esther’s bed and runs a hand along one of the scrapes on her face.
RAVEN (worriedly): He messed you up pretty bad.
ESTHER (jokingly): You should see the other guy.
Esther winks and Raven keeps her hand on the other’s face, cupping one of her cheeks. She doesn’t seem amused by the joke.
ESTHER: Seriously, Raven, I’m fine. I beat him up pretty good.
RAVEN: You wouldn’t have had to beat him up at all if it weren’t for me.
Esther frowns and shakes her head, taking Raven’s hands from her face and holding them.
ESTHER: It was my choice to get in the fight. If I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have.
RAVEN: Yeah but—
ESTHER (cutting her off): My. Choice.
Raven sighs. There is silence for a moment.
RAVEN: How did he break your arm?
ESTHER: What?
RAVEN: How did he break your arm?
Esther pauses before answering.
ESTHER (quietly): I broke it.
RAVEN (confused): You broke it?
Esther looks away, fidgeting with Raven’s hands.
ESTHER: He was struggling when I- uh, when I fought him. I didn’t let go in enough time and I broke it. I was too angry.
Raven looks to be considering this.
RAVEN: Why were you angry?
ESTHER (surprised): What do you mean?
RAVEN: Spruce wouldn’t tell me what happened. All I got was that you got into a fight with my father when you came looking for me.
Esther is still surprised.
ESTHER (lying poorly): I- uh. I just didn’t like him. He was a jerk, is all.
RAVEN: Esther, I know you well enough by now to know that punching someone you don’t like isn’t usually your first reaction.
Esther takes her hands away and runs them through her hair, looking down.
ESTHER (mumbled): He was being mean about you.
Raven, who’s looked somewhat stoic this whole interaction, is visibly intrigued.
RAVEN: You punched him because he was being mean about me?
Esther nods, seeming somewhat self conscious.
Raven lets out a loud laugh and Esther looks up.
RAVEN (deeply amused): You were defending my honor?
ESTHER (quickly): I know it’s stupid, I just— everything he said about you was so horribly wrong and I couldn’t stand it. I know that you don’t need to be defended, I—.
Raven’s face is soft and unbelievably fond.
RAVEN: God, you’re perfect.

They_Are_Here

2026-07-06 Daily #6: Screenplay (681 words) - Untitled

Lights up on a dim, dilapidated office. It contains a single desk and chair.

Enter AXIAS, running toward the desk.

AXIAS: Heck yeah! My own personal desk, a pencil, even a laptop … this is luxury!

AXIAS sits back and sighs in contentment, but only for a moment: enter SNYDER. They look at each other suddenly and realize: oh no.

SNYDER: That’s my desk —
AXIAS: Nope.
SNYDER: Nope?
AXIAS: I got here first.
SNYDER: Axias, you know that’s my desk.

AXIAS gets up and walks toward SNYDER.

AXIAS: Snyder, you know this isn’t a world where we all get what we want. This is a dog-eat-dog world. It’s survival of the fittest —

SNYDER slides past AXIAS and plops down in the desk chair.

AXIAS: Dude!
SNYDER: Finders keepers. Like you said.
AXIAS: … You know what? Fine.
SYNDER: Fine?
AXIAS: Yeah. Take it. I don’t care.
SNYDER: Uh … well … it’s kind of less satisfying now.
AXIAS: I’ll just sit on the floor.
UPPER MANAGEMENT (loudspeaker): All employees must have their own cubicle, which should contain a desk, chair, laptop, and pencil.

A beat. Then AXIAS and SNYDER respond to the voice they can’t see.

AXIAS: Do you see any cubicles here? Do you want us to build one or something?
SNYDER (at the same time as AXIAS): How are we supposed to have our own desk if there’s only one desk?
AXIAS (annoyed): Upper Management.
SNYDER: I get you, man.
AXIAS: … You do?
SNYDER: You’re surprised. We have more in common than you might think.
AXIAS: And you know this based on … the company picnic and two days of working together?
SNYDER: That wasn’t a company picnic. That was a company “here’s 12 tacos in a foil tray from a sketchy Mexican place on Highway 18.”

They laugh.

AXIAS & SNYDER: Upper Management.

They laugh again.

A beat.

SNYDER (with more disgust): Upper Management.

AXIAS looks at him, knowing something’s changed. This isn’t a joke anymore.

AXIAS: They rip us off every time. Give us nothing.
SNYDER: They don’t have an ounce of empathy.
AXIAS: They have too much control.
SNYDER: Too much power.

Instead of responding with another quip, AXIAS thinks for a moment, then stands up suddenly. SNYDER feels obligated to stand up as well. AXIAS picks up the office chair and smashes it against the desk.

SNYDER (laughing): Dude! Yes!
AXIAS: $%!# Upper Management!!!

The camera angle becomes chaotic as they grab pieces of the table, ad-libbing lines, and start running through the hallways. They drag the pieces along the walls, smash side desks and landscape paintings, and stomp up the stairs. This continues for several flights, possibly cutting to a montage, until they are at the fourth floor. This whole time, the Upper Management loudspeaker says things in a calm voice like, “Employees may not damage office equipment, intentionally or unintentionally” and “At Corporation Incorporated we value respect of ourselves, others, and the space.”

Finally AXIAS and SNYDER reach a gray door. At eye level is a silver plaque reading “UPPER MANAGEMENT.” The music and camera angle calms down as they get a little nervous. There’s no coming back from what they just did. But SNYDER works up the courage to open the door.

The scene slowly reveals an empty office with a fancy desk in the middle. Aside from bookshelves on the walls, the only other things in the room are a name placard reading “UPPER MANAGEMENT” and a single taco, both sitting on the desk.

AXIAS: Where are they?
SNYDER: Bathroom?
UPPER MANAGEMENT (loudspeaker, the volume loud enough to shake the room): Employees may not enter classified areas. If this is a mistake, they must exit the space immediately.
AXIAS: What the #@$%?!
SNYDER (overlapping): Where did that come from?

The room starts to shake. AXIAS and SNYDER try to steady themselves, unaware of what’s happening. The room shakes more and more until the floor gives out and they both fall into the infinite black void below, screaming.

The camera pans back up to the taco sitting on the desk. … Fade to black.

ChueyTheCat

EXT. THE PARK — LATE AFTERNOON
THE GIRL (late teens, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, tired-looking) sits on a green bench near the duck pond. Next to her is a mostly-empty bag of bread. Chunks of bread are floating on the surface of the slightly scummy water, but the ducks appear to have lost interest.
THE GIRL
I know you’re here.
A MAN (mid forties, slightly scruffy, baseball cap) comes into view of the camera. He’s holding a cup of coffee and a small brown paper bag. He sits on the bench gingerly.
THE MAN
(tentatively)
Yeah.
(beat)
I, um, brought you some coffee. And a muffin. Blueberry.
THE GIRL
Ooh, resorting to bribery now? I like it.
She pulls the muffin out of the bag and bites into it forcefully. The man winces and looks away.
THE MAN
How… how is it?
THE GIRL
The muffin? Could be better. Needs more blueberries.
She takes a sip of coffee.
THE MAN
I… yeah… how’s…
THE GIRL
How’s…?
THE MAN
(fidgets)
How’s… your mom doing?
THE GIRL
Oh, she’s fine. She’s really fine. Yeah, they’ve got her on chemotherapy and everything. She’ll probably be on it for another month or so.
THE MAN
And then…?
THE GIRL
And then she’ll die, or so the doctors say. Pretty great.
She tosses the last slice of bread at the pond. The ducks ignore it.
THE MAN
I’m so sorry. Is there anything I… anything I can do?
THE GIRL
Yeah. You can turn around and leave again. That’s what you always do anyway.
The man flinches again, takes off his cap and turns it around in his hands.
THE MAN
I didn’t want things to turn out this way.
THE GIRL
Could have fooled me.
She takes a sip of coffee to hide the tears in her eyes.
The man inhales.
THE MAN
I know what you must be thinking, but I promise you, I never wanted any of this to happen. Things just got a little messed up, and then they got a little more messed up, and before you know it here we are.
THE GIRL
Yep. Here we are.
(beat)
That’s your cue to leave now, by the way.
THE MAN
I know you’re angry, but I won’t have you taking that tone with me. I’m still your father.
THE GIRL
Are you? I thought you forfeited that right when you left.
THE MAN
I made some mistakes.
THE GIRL
You sure did.
The man leans forward on his knees, staring at his cap.
THE MAN
Look, can we just… start over and try again.
THE GIRL
(warily)
How far back?
THE MAN
Like… probably… three years ago.
(beat)
I don’t think I ever apologized for that day, but I’ve regretted it ever since.
THE GIRL
Ooh, cheers for you! He has a heart after all.
THE MAN
I probably deserve that.
THE GIRL
(quietly)
No, that was going too far, even for this. Even for you. So… okay. Let’s start over.

moosywoosy

daily 6

INT. - CLASSROOM 2-A

LOLA sits at a desk, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Suddenly, she jolts and takes a closer look at her phone.

LOLA
(exclaimation)
No way! A new chapter already?!

A wide grin spreads over LOLA’s face as she clicks on something on her phone, she sighs.

LOLA
(dejected)
Man, all the chapters still only have two views…it’s such a shame, it’s such an underrated series!

LOLA becomes visibly more giddy, swinging her legs and smiling wide as she scrolls through her phone.

As she scrolls, she eventually reaches an ending point. She scrolls, looks surprised, before scrolling again, this time moving her ace close to the screen—before signing in defeat.

LOLA
Awh man…this chapter went by so quickly…

LOLA sits back upright and begins typing on her phone.

LOLA
(muttering)
As always, thank you for the chapter…I really love this story and am excited to see what happens next…this chapter ended off Angelina’s character arc nicely…

LOLA
Great! Comment done! Ahh…why can’t next week come already…?

Suddenly, there’s the sound of some kind of ping, as if a message has been sent. LOLA looks down to her phone.

LOLA
Ah, the second viewer’s here already…looks like they left a comment.

The lights suddenly dim and the spotlight is put on LOLA, indicating she is now speaking tot he audience.

LOLA
‘A Snapshot of Our Future’ is a super-duper underrated web series that updates every Wednesday! Each chapter only gets two views and two comments…one being myself, and on being a mysterious second user! I would say their username out loud, but it’s just user followed by a ton of numbers…

The lights come back on, indicating the scene is back in reality.

LOLA
(under her breath, reading)
Thank you so much for the chapter…Angelina’s development was handled extremely well, and I absolutely loved the depiction of everyone’s reaction to it…can’t wait for next week!

LOLA
Ahh…if only I had someone to talk to about the series…

Suddenly, the lights dim, everyone is still visible, but the spotlight is put on one girl, SASHA. She was currently on her phone. She turns it towards the audience slightly so they can see it, before turning it off and putting it in her desk. The spotlight then shifts to LOLA.

LOLA
Is this real? Do my eyes deceive me? I’d recognize that image better than anyone else? Why, that composition of color and those fine strokes…that’s the cover image of A Snapshot of Out Future?

LOLA
Could I be? I’ve found another fan? Could I have finally found user53729203967?

LOLA
(whisper)
Yes, I memorized the number…

LOLA
But, there’s no way! No way that—

The lights suddenly turn back on and LOLA gestures wildly at SASHA, specifically her delinquent-like appearance.

LOLA
She’s the one?!

Lola stands up suddenly, and everyone stares at her. She clears her throat nervously and sits back down. The spotlight is back on her.

LOLA
(rambly)
How could it be? A delinquent like her has the same interest in a niche web novel like me?! How can this be?! Surely a cool girl like her wouldn’t pay that kind of stuff the mind of day…

LOLA
But…surely she’s been looking for like minded fans like I have! If I tell her I’m a fan, then surely we can bond together and finally have someone to talk to about the web novel!

LOLA
In that case—!

The lights suddenly turn on.

SASHA
Can I help you?

LOLA
H-Huh?!

LOLA
N-No! Nothing at all! Just talking to myself—aha…

A spotlight is on LOLA again.

LOLA
(dejected)
Unfortunately for me…I have terrible social anxiety…

The lights fade out, before flashing back on. Lola is in the spotlight once again, and her hands are behind her back.

LOLA
Well! I suppose I have no other choice! With that being said…I shall subtlety hint to SASHA I’ve read the series as well so she makes the first move!

LOLA pulls out a whiteboard from behind her back that says PLAN: DRAWING!

The lights go off again, and when they turn back on, they reveal a scene of a classroom. LOLA puts up her hand suddenly.

LOLA
Teacher! I’m finished! Can I draw on the whiteboard?

TEACHER
Sure, go ahead!

The spotlight is on LOLA again.

LOLA
Heh-heh! Perfect! I’ve successfully completed part one of my plan! If I draw the main character on the board, SASHA will have no choice but to comment on it! Then—

LOLA
(deeper voice)
Oh wow LOLA! Is that a character from “A Snapshot of Our Future!”

LOLA
Yes it is!—Are you a fan too? Wow! Let’s talk about it together then and be friends!

The lights turn on and LOLA walks to the whiteboard and begins drawing a character.

SASHA
Who’s that? They kind of look familiar.

LOLA freezes suddenly.

LOLA
(nervously)
Oh! Uh…just a character I made up…haha…

LOLA suddenly runs offstage.

LOLA
(offstage, muffled)
WHY DID I SAY THAAATTTT?!

The lights fade, and when they come back on, Lola can be seen walking.

LOLA
(dejected)
*Sigh* My plan didn’t work…

LOLA frowns before suddenly perking up.

LOLA
But there’s always tomorrow!

859 words

SkaterCat17

daily #6
Daily:
Lights… Camera… Action! Today, you’ll be writing a 450 word screenplay! Screenplays are the documents that contain everything an actor needs to know when they’re performing. Very different from narrative writing, screenplays contain everything from dialogue, to visual aspects and actions that might need to be taken. You need to write in this specific format to gain 500 points for your cabin, with an additional 150 points if you share. Happy screenwriting… Cut!

Scene 1: Best friends… not forever
⸻⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
AMAYA and MONICA are at Monica’s house.
Amaya: I Can’t believe we’re going into eighth grade this fall. when was it we met, 4, 5, 6 years ago?
Monica: i know, right? it feels like we just met, like, last week.
Amaya: And i can’t believe that we’re going to be thirteen! we met when we were, i think… 8? 9? 10…? 7?
Monica: I think that we were eight. hey, are you taking an acting class this summer?
Amaya: Yeah. are you taking an art class this summer?
Monica: No, i don’t have the time for art anymore.
Amaya: What?? No time for art??
Monica: yeah…
Amaya: But since fourth grade, our motto has been “no time for art, then no time for…”
(beat)
Monica: …best friends.
Amaya: Do… do you think we’ll still be friends?
Monica: I… …I don’t know.
MONICA has tears in her eyes. MONICA wipes them away.
Amaya: I don’t know if you’re telling the truth.
Monica: I have to be. it’s rule #1 of the best friend code we made. when we were eight, two weeks after we met.
Both: “Always tell the truth.”
MONICA and AMAYA are crying. MONICA and AMAYA hug.
Amaya: I… i guess we’ll still be friends.
Monica: Yeah. we’ll still have acting class together. at least we still have that in common.
Amaya: Yeah. that’s true.

Scene 2: New best friend
⸻⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺
AMAYA is in the school hall. MONICA is chatting with her new friend, Ruby. AMAYA bumps into SASHA. SASHA and AMAYA fall down.
Sasha: Oh, sorry! i didn’t see you. i was reading this script.
Amaya: No worries! i didn’t- wait, you’re into theatre?
Sasha: Oh, definitely. Are you?
Amaya: Yes!! what’s the script for?
Sasha: Annie. The Community playhouse is doing a production of it, and i’m in it.
Amaya: Whoa, you’re in a real play? that’s so cool. What part?
Sasha: Actually, i’m Playing Annie.
Amaya: What?!?!
Sasha: Annie.
Amaya: Whoa, that’s like, my dream role.
Sasha: Yeah, mine, too.
Amaya: I’m Amaya.
Sasha: Sasha. hey, do you want to come to the play for free? i have two tickets to give to people, and my brothers aren’t available then, so the only people i have to give them to are my mom… and now you.
Amaya: Of course! when is it?
Sasha: the fifthteenth of november at 5:00 PM.
Amaya: Sure, that’s perfect!
Sasha: Great!
The bell rings.
Sasha: Oh, i’ve gotta get to class. see you at lunch?
Amaya: Sounds good!

Scene three: True friends
⸻⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺—

AMAYA is at SASHA’s house.
Sasha: So… that’s my house for you.
Amaya: Hey, you Were saying you had Brothers?
Sasha: Yeah. Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus.
Amaya: Wow…
Sasha: Yeah. i know. My mom wanted to name me Hera, but my dad said she would have to name me Athena if she wanted it to be ANOTHER greek goddes, but my mom Wanted us to be named based on order of birth.
Amaya: How old are your brothers?
Sasha: 15, 18, and 14. Hades is my oldest brother, Poseidon is the second oldest, and Zeus is a year older than me.
Amaya: Wow. your mom is…
Sasha: Weird?
Amaya: I was going to say Obsessed with greek mythology.
Sasha: Yeah, she’s that, too.
SASHA and AMAYA eat popcorn while watching a movie.

spr1ngt1m3summ3rrr

❥・06
Wordcount・472/450
Topic・Writing a screenplay
Points・500 (+150 for proof)
Cabin・Bi-fi

(CUT TO LILITH AND DAISAY LAYING NEXT TO EACH OTHER IN THE MEADOW)
(LILITH LAUGHS)
LILITH - Somebody's ought to find us out some day, hm?
DAISAY - Don't make me think about that right now, will ya?
LILITH - Daisay, it's a genuine concern!
(LILITH PAUSES)
LILITH - I don't know what we do if we were found out. What would they do to us? To you? To me?
DAISAY - I guess it depends on who would've actually found out I suppose, but if anybody found out overall we'd be in big trouble.
LILITH - Just promise me that we escape together if someone were to find out.
DAISAY - Sure, but you and I both know I'm not capable of escaping. I need food.
(LILITH GIGGLES)
(CAMERA PANS TO LILITH'S BROTHER REN WATCHING THEM FROM THE CLIFF ABOVE)
(HE SWIFTLY TURNS AWAY, AND RUNS BACK TO THE PALACE THROUGH THE WOODS)
(TREE BRANCHES HIT HIS FACE, LEAVING HIM DIRTY)
REN - Why Lilith… Why would you do such things…
(HE TRIES TO IGNORE THE TEARS FROM THE BETRAYAL FROM HIS SISTER AND KEEPS RUNNING)
(EVENTUALLY HE REACHES THE PALACE AND SKIDS TO A STOP, HITTING THE DOOR IN THE MEANTIME)
(THE QUEEN, LILITH AND REN'S MOTHER, TROTS OVER RELATIVELY QUICKLY)
THE QUEEN - Ren, my dear, what's the matter? You're all dirty, you don't seem like a prince in the slightest with this behavior! You also genuinely don't seem like yourself at the moment at all. What happened? Tell me!
(REN, SOBBING AND PANTING NOW, TURNS TOWARDS THE QUEEN)
REN - It's Lilith… I found her in the meadow with the princess from the night kingdom. She doesn't know I saw them, but they seemingly seemed to be… In some way… Together.
(THE QUEEN STANDS THERE STUNNED FOR A FEW SECONDS)
THE QUEEN - And you said she does not know that you know about her little secret relationship, correct?
REN - Yes, mother, she has no clue to the situation at all.
THE QUEEN - Good. I have an idea of what I can do to fix this, but I'll need to wait a bit first. I need time to gather the… Resources I need to pull off this plan I'm speaking of.
(REN GLARES AT MOTHER WITH CONCERN OF WHAT SHE MAY DO)
REN - What exactly is this plan, mother? Please say it won't hurt Lilith. I want the best for her, not pain for her. Please don't.
THE QUEEN - Do not fret, son. I would never hurt my own daughter directly. I may need to venture into strategies involving theoretically harming others, though. But never Lilith. What was the name of the princess from that other kingdom, Ren dear?
REN - Er, it was Daisay, mother. What shall you do to her, though? Please tell me!
THE QUEEN - Don't worry about that. You've done your part. It's time for mine.

Last edited by spr1ngt1m3summ3rrr (July 6, 2026 23:40:45)

-WildClan-

*Late morning in autumn. Briny Pack territory. Various Pack members are peacefully going about their lives. Suddenly, SHARD stumbles in from stage left, his breathing ragged and eyes darting about frenziedly. As he collapses to the ground, several of the others give yelps of alarm.*

BYSTANDER 1: Are you alright?!

SHARD, twitching uncontrollably: Hhhh, hh…!

BYSTANDER 2, turning to BYSTANDER 3: What's wrong with him?

BYSTANDER 3 shrugs, their eyes wide with both fear and curiosity.

BYSTANDER 1, approaching SHARD: Hello? Can you hear me?

SHARD: Hhhhh…

BYSTANDER 1, whirling to face BYSTANDERS 2 and 3: One of you, go get a doctor! Don't just stand there!

BYSTANDERS 2 and 3 blink at each other, then run offstage. They return a few moments later with SNAP and her apprentice, SCATTER, close behind.

SNAP, quickly taking in the scene: What happened here?

BYSTANDER 1, stepping back to make room for SNAP: I don't know. He just ran in here and collapsed.

SNAP: Hm. Strange. I'll look him over.

Before SNAP can get close, SCATTER bounds past and sniffs SHARD energetically.

SCATTER: I think he's having a seizure. We've seen it before, remember, Snap? With—"

SNAP, sounding annoyed: Yes, I remember. I was there. Now move out of the way and let me do my job.

-

haha massive timeskip because I don't wanna write these scenes right now
long story short Shard has even more problems and Scatter is a terrible therapist xd

-

SHARD, snarling: Stop—Just stop it! You're not going to fix me, Scatter!

SCATTER, flinching back: I… I know. I know that! *growls in frustration* This isn't any easier for me, you understand? I can't solve anything! I can't help you, I can't even help myself. We're both problems! That's the only reason Snap agreed to this at all, I think. Throw all the messed-up ones together, and— *breaks off the sentence with another growl*

SCATTER lashes his tail and storms off, leaving SHARD looking surprised.

SHARD, a wave of fear washing over him: Wait! Scatter, I didn't mean it, please come back… *in a softer voice* I don't want to be alone here…

-

SNAP, eyes narrowing: Hm, well, I can't say I'm surprised.

SCATTER, trying to seem confident: Don't you think it's a little soon to be giving up? You can keep trying new medicines, I can continue working with him…

SNAP: No. Resources are scarce, and he's a lost cause.

SCATTER: But—

SNAP: I said no. And I don't want you interacting with him anymore, you hear me, Scatter? He's dangerous.

SCATTER: …I hear you.

SNAP: Good. Now, come on, we have more work to do.

moosywoosy

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ᝰ lemon “girl”
writing comp entry

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My sister is really weird.

One time, I noticed her eating lemons straight up. She bit straight through the skin—and juice spilt down from the corner of her lips. I thought it was a little strange.

I would never eat a lemon like that. It was so sour, and surely it would be so disgusting!

“Chị hai? Why are you eating lemons like that? It’s gross.” I crinkled my nose.

My sister’s eyes widened. She wiped her mouth and put a finger to her mouth, “Please don’t tell mom or dad…” She sounded desperate, and she only sounded that way when something was serious.

I tilted my head, “Why not?”

“They really hate lemons.”

My sister still eats lemons on their own.

“Mom told me something once.” I approached my sister as her teeth sunk into the fruit. “Lemons aren’t natural.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She said that they’re a hybrid between a citron and a bitter orange.” I pouted and put my hands on my hips, “Mom said that means that they’re not a real fruit…”

My sister shook her head and held out her lemon. “How can they not be real? I’m holding one right now.”

I supposed that was true.

Lemon pie is tasty. My sister loves lemon pie too. My mom really hates it though, so we have to bake it together when she’s not home.

“Why does mom hate lemon pie so much?” I asked, peeking over the counter as my sister grated the lemon for its zest.

She shrugged, “Because there’s lemon in it. She hates lemon.” She picked up a whisk and mixed the meringue.

“I don’t like lemon either. I only like it in pie, unless it’s too sour.” I poked a finger in the cream and licked it off. “It’s good.”

“Then mom hates lemon pie too.”

“Why can’t we make it when she’s around then?” I hoped my sister wasn’t bothered by my questions. “She doesn’t have to eat it, so why do we have to make it when she’s gone?”

My sister poured the lemon cream into its crust. “My fingers get sticky from the lemon juice, she’s afraid it’ll stick to her.” My sister murmured. “She thinks the smell of lemon zest will get all over the house, and then everyone will smell like it.”

My sister sighed and placed the pie in the oven. “I guess I'll have to wash my hands before she gets home, then.”

My mom found out my sister was eating lemons.

She yelled a lot. She was really mad that my sister ate lemons in front of me—even worse that she baked lemon pie with me. “You’re telling me she seriously likes that stuff?!” She shouted through the walls. “It’s all because you did that stuff in front of her! She’s going to end up just like you!”

I told my mom my sister didn’t make me like lemons, she didn’t listen at all.

She threw out all the lemons in the house and insisted that my sister was dirty. She washed my sister’s hair over and over again even when she was the one who told me not to waste water.

She threw out most of my sister’s clothing—saying that the lemon residue was still on it.

My sister insists she wants to eat lemons—but my mom insists that if she wants to eat fruit so badly—it has to be anything but a lemon. My sister is still unwavering—and my mom still yells at her.

I think the shampoo was orange-scented, because she smells like those instead of lemons.

My sister seems very sad lately.

My mom and dad were out of the house, so she had to take me to her volleyball practice. She wasn’t even looking at the ball—nor was she looking at any of the players. She seemed to be looking at the clearing behind the court—and even somewhere far behind that as well.

“You look distracted.” Her friend frowned, “Hey, maybe we should take five?” The rest chorused agreements.

My sister talked with her friend for a while—they went far beyond 5 minutes but no one seemed to really care.

They finished talking, and then her friend walked up to me.

“Is your sister doing okay?” He asked, his eyebrows knit together tightly. “She used to be able to serve a pretty nasty ace on the court, but now she’s having trouble even hitting the ball.”

“She’s been very sad these days.” I frowned, “I think it’s because she’s not allowed to eat lemons anymore.”

Her friend looked at me for a moment, before he nodded. “I understand.”

The next day, my sister came home from volleyball practice with a small paper bag. She ran off to her room before mom could see it.

“What was it?” I entered her room unannounced out of curiosity. She stood by her closet.

She closed her closet door quickly. “Nothing. It’s just something my friend gave me.”

Later, she told me about a cool ace she made at practice today.

Her clothes started smelling a bit like lemon again.

My sister started eating oranges.

At the dinner table, when my mom was doing her prayer before eating, my sister would peel an orange and eat some of the pieces.

In response, my mother smiled and told my sister how proud she was of her. My sister smiled—though she smiled better after eating lemons—and finished eating the orange.

“Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and went. I threw out the orange peel for her.

When she left the bathroom, she looked a little pale. I decided to go in after her. There was a little throw up on the toilet seat she forgot to clean.

I wiped it off before my mom saw.

I like oranges better than lemons.

Lemons are too sour for me to eat. My friend from school said he prefers lime, but one bite gets my face scrunched up.

My sister likes lemons a lot.

I tried to take a bite once, but I had the same reaction to it as to the lime. My sister didn’t get angry.

“That’s fine.” She murmured. “It’s just not your thing.” She handed me a glass of water, I nodded in thanks and took big gulps.

She placed the glass down on the counter. “Some people like oranges, some people like lime. I just prefer lemons.” She scratched the back of her neck, “Oranges and limes just kinda taste like wax to me—no offense.”

I figured that was okay. My sister never forced me to eat lemons, and she never made me smell like lemons on purpose. Even when she did it by accident, I could always just wash it off.

It was okay that my sister really loved lemons.

“How come I like lemon pie but not lemons?”

My sister shrugged, “There’s more to a lemon pie than just the lemon.”

chanh
/tɕajŋ˧/
1. A Vietnamese word directly translating to “lemon”
2. A Vietnamese slang term used to refer to non-binary people—created by combining the feminine pronoun, chị, and the masculine pronoun, anh.

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⋆ author’s note
chị hai - vietnamese for ‘eldest sister’, how younger siblings refer to their eldest sibling (if said eldest sibling is a sister)

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1193 words

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Last edited by moosywoosy (July 7, 2026 04:57:34)

agstgamer

McUtils category:

(if <> is manager then [] else [])

<is ice cream machine (working v)>

<talk to manager []>

(place order [])

Last edited by agstgamer (July 7, 2026 00:29:22)

_nalystixx_

Chapter Two: “Wasted Time” - July 6th, 2026 - 507 words.

I find the concept of names unsettling. Lately, our “distraction free Summer!” according to my father, hasn't been quite as beneficial as he planned. Instead, he and my mother are working most days, and my younger brother is on his fourth sleepover in a row at some kid named Tony’s house. I don’t know how I feel about Tony. His “real” name is Antonio, which is probably the most pretentious name I know. I only think this because I had a friend named Antonio in the third grade, and he’d always brag about the stupidest things. Anyways, the other day I watched a video on nomadic determination, which is essentially the theory that what someone is named affects parts of their identity (such as their career). It was quite an interesting video, though it only focused on last names, such as Shoemaker, or Baker.

Last week, my mother pulled me aside and told me that the school had assigned Summer reading. Obviously I handled it maturely and did not threaten “death to the school board” for this minor inconvenience. If I did though, it absolutely would be deserved. The whole school system is a mess. One time, my English teacher, Mr. Vitell, assigned a five page essay on militant fervor. Don’t get me wrong, that is one hell of an interesting topic, but he only gave me an 82%. I gave at least ten examples, and cited my sources, but he said it “lacked gamut”. That has to be the most obnoxious thing about him. He always uses the most complex terms to describe something so simple. It’s like he thinks it makes him sound smart or something. It doesn’t. It just makes everyone even more confused. The definition of “gamut” is quite a confusing one as well. Technically, it refers to all the notes in the musical scale. Generally though, it means a complete range. He was basically saying my paper’s examples weren’t diverse enough. I beg to differ.

This evening I went for a walk. This has little to do with nomadic determination, or Mr. Vitell, or my parents’ sorry attempts to lie to my brother and I, but today’s just one of those days. The sun was setting, which unfortunately didn’t make it any cooler, but the colors that bled across the horizon were hypnotizing. The other day, I read a book about ancient Celtic sayings. One of them was: “Heaven and Earth are only three feet apart, but in thin places that distance is even shorter.”. One of the places they believed that the boundary thinned the most was at dusk and dawn, which sparked the belief that those in the Otherworld could use sunsets as a way to communicate with the living. I don’t know if I believe this though. It's uncommon that I believe anything. Ask anyone and they’d likely say that I find most philosophical questions to be a waste of time.

They’d also say that I spend an unhealthy amount of time, wasting my time.

Last edited by _nalystixx_ (July 7, 2026 02:47:56)

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