in-cabin daily - july 2 2021

prompt: Use https://www.name-generator.org.uk/character/ to make a character, then flesh them out in a scene of 300+ words.

Character name: Emilie Fowler

A garbage truck roared down Emilie's street, the sound of the rumbling engine peaking in volume as it passed underneath her third-floor window. She groaned and rolled over, half-asleep, and the noise subsided to nothing as the truck puttered away down the road, as if in apology for waking her. That is, if you could call the sound a garbage truck makes “puttering.” It was too late for apologies now anyways. Although Emilie was still insanely tired, she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to her dream, even if she tried. A loud and almost squeaky noise echoed from a few doors down, signaling the gas-guzzling truck was starting up again, now ready and raring to awaken the rest of the neighborhood inhabitants with it's machinery if they weren't already up.
Stupid brain, not letting me get back to sleep, she thought. Stupid truck. Emilie suppressed a groan, pushed herself up off the pillow, and opened her eyes to check the digital clock on her nightstand. The bright blinking numbers reading “9:34” made her squint her eyes and look away, unprepared for the shock of the light in her not-quite-awake state. It was rainy out, so even though it was well into the morning it was still dark outside.
As she grumbled to no one in particular about her messed up sleep schedule, Emilie thought back to the night before, and what exactly she had done to make herself so tired. A movie night with her friends was always fun (and Emilie had quite a few friends), but it was too bad none of them, including herself, could ever keep track of the time. The movie had ended around 10 o'clock, and that was when everyone had left, but Emilie herself had stayed up well past midnight. She racked her brain. The last time she remembered checking her phone was sometime in the 12:20s, but that was when her cat Aerin (taken right off of the google search page for pretty elf names) had jumped up onto her lap and started kneading her stomach. Painful, yes, but a true sign of affection. She smiled at the thought of her fluffy orange tabby.
As if on cue, Emilie heard the pitter-patter of tiny kitty paws come around the corner of the hallway and into her bedroom. It was if he could sense whenever she woke up. Aerin jumped up onto the bed and started to purr.
“Morning buddy!” she stroked her cat and unsuccessfully fought back a yawn. “It's a bit late, huh? Well, I have to get up sometime… Better go get you some food.” With that, Emilie rolled out of bed and tried her best to neaten up her sheets, then wandered into the kitchen to open a can of Fancy Feast. “I really should get you better cat food. This stuff makes you fat,” she said to the cat.
Aerin meowed.

main cabin daily - july 13 2021


prompt: “What are you doing with that?!”
“With what?”
“That thing… in your hand! Don’t play innocent with me. That thing you are holding may cause the destruction of this whole world!”
Mech, (@AmazingMech2418) has created a workshop on dialogue! Continue this story and carry it out into a full (short) story! We can’t wait to see where you bring this story to! Make sure to use dialogue throughout, using the tips and rules defined in the workshop. Minimum of 400 words for 500 points. If you share your writing you gain an extra 200 points!

xD this one kinda has a moon theme

pronunciations:
luminvayle - loo-minh-vay-el
luminauts - loo-minh-oughts
niqhterstone - nick-ter-stone (with a kinda german feel on the ck if you know what i mean lol)

“What are you doing with that?!”
“With what?”
“That thing… in your hand! Don’t play innocent with me. That thing you're holding may cause the destruction of the entire world!”
The second girl laughed and tossed the glowing blueish-white crystal she was “inspecting” up into the air once more, making her companion shriek. The gem almost hit the ground when she failed to catch it, and both girls stood frozen in fear for a moment as the crystal bounced off the edge of girl number two's palm and up into the air once more. The first girl quickly regained her senses and grabbed the crystal, inches from the dirt road. She let out a breath of air she didn't know she was holding in and looked over at her friend. The troublemaker was Catherina Bernish, and Blue was her fellow adventurer and righteous defender of the kingdom of Luminvayle. Together they worked alongside the other Luminauts to protect their world and their Queen, and would stop at nothing to do so, even if it meant risking their lives. Blue had lost her brother that way, and she knew one day she would have to sacrifice herself for her kingdom as well. When that day came, she would be ready.
"Oh my gods, don't mess around with this thing!“ Blue took a small black box out of her messenger bag and carefully placed the radiant crystal inside of it. ”The Niqhterstone is not a toy. It's a weapon.“
”We don't know what it is,“ Cat began. ”It could be used as a weapon, but not when we're the ones holding it. Isn't that what Queen Io said?“
”Not exactly… Fine, I'll admit we don't know what it is, but we don't know how to use it either. In this case, throwing it around could be seriously dangerous.“
Blue and her good friend Cat had just completed another one of their missions by order of the Queen; retrieving the Niqhterstone. The powder-blue crystal did indeed have the power to destroy worlds in the wrong hands, but since the right hands didn't exactly how to use or control it either, Blue strongly believed the two had to keep the gem safe, stable, and in one piece if they wanted to protect themselves and the rest of the kingdom.
”Think of the Niqhterstone as a child, and treat it as such,“ Queen Io had said. ”Care for it as if your lives depend on it.“
That was pretty easy, because their lives could and did depend on it. The Niqhterstone could kill.
Cat let out a dramatic sigh. ”I wasn't throwing it around,“ she whined. ”Tossing is different, yeah? Anyways, it's not like we're in any danger now. You've put the thing in the Niqhterbox already and nothing happened when I was actually throwi- tossing it. It didn't break, and the universe didn't explode, did it?“
Blue rolled her eyes, and instinctively pulled her messenger bag tighter against her body to prevent Cat from somehow taking the Niqhterstone again. ”It doesn't matter, forget it. All we need to do is bring this…“ She gestured to the back with her head. ”…back to Queen Io, and send our report to the rest of the Nauts.“ She turned around to look at Cat, only to see her crouched down on the ground a few yards back, studying a ladybug that had crawled onto her finger. ”Come on, Cat! Hurry up!“ She walked over to Cat and flicked the ladybug off her hand. ”Quit fooling around. Let's go."
With one last glance at the little red bug who was skittering across the ground, Cat pushed herself up and began shuffling after Blue. The two girls continued on their way down the dirt road, the turrets of Castle Lumin visible in the distance.

I would have added more but it's 9:30 and I need to get off the screen lolll

main cabin daily - july 14 2021

prompt: CHOPPED! You know the cooking show? Yes, your four ingredients that you need to incorporate in your writing will come from the comments! Comment four random words for someone to take as their own ingredients. Then go pick four words from someone else. Ready- set- GO! Write for 20 minutes and you must make those four ingredients play a significant part in your story. No minimum words, but worth 500 points. 200 extra points if you share your writing!

words: veil, mouse, sword, giant (ty to @freely for the words <3)

this gives me despereaux vibes~
but I can't write another fanfic lol

The girl pushed back her veil and picked up the rusty sword of a fallen soldier from the ground, hefting it in her hand. She squinted up into the sky until the clouds obscured her view and the sun started to blind her. It had been too long since Jack climbed the beanstalk. He should have been back by now. Lilith would have to go up there herself and save her wimpy boyfriend.
“No, wait- husband…” Lilith sighed. She hadn't wanted to marry Jack Trott in the slightest, but with it being a few months past her 16th birthday and her parents being poor enough to want to sell away their own daughter, Lilith was forced to wed the rich, piggish, narcissistic boy who was now undoubtedly about to be eaten by a giant. She grinned at the thought of Jack being eaten by something. Maybe she should just leave him up there to die.
That wouldn't be the kindest thing to do though, would it? Lilith couldn't let anything die, even if it was a rich, piggish, and narcissistic boy, so she told she would save Jack for the giant's sake, and plunged the sword into the beanstalk, ready to climb. After all, one measly little human certainly couldn't suffice as a meal for a giant. That would be like Lilith sitting down and having a mouse for breakfast; Jack would be an unsanitary and unfulfilling food source. She wondered if she could explain that to the giant.
“What language does a giant speak?” Lilith said to no one in particular. She often talked to herself, which had led on more than one occasion to strange looks from passersby on the streets or accusations of a less-than-ideal mental state on her behalf.

weekly #2 - july 13 2021

part 1

prompt: Go into the project editor and generate three random sprites and a backdrop. Now, use those items to write a story featuring the sprites as characters and use the backdrop as the setting. This is just a mini warm up to get our fingers moving and scratch creativity flowing.

sprites:
- jouvi dance
- robot
- snake

backdrop: beach malibu


okay so i randomly named the girl cara and then realized i could turn this whole story into a post-cyclist / post-cara-redemption-arc kinda thing and i re-wrote what i had already done~

but then my original superhero idea got changed around and I had to incorporate the robot and snake~

so please no judgies
and don't ask~

CONTAINS CYCLIST SPOILERS - GO WATCH IT FIRST

The salty beach air whipped Cara's hair around in the wind, exposing the scar across her left eye. It was finally starting to heal itself, softened to a warm pink color in stark contrast to the angry red it used to be. The scar was no longer painful for Cara to look at, to feel or see or touch. She was still blind in one eye, of course, and self-conscious about the scar as always, but it was easier to deal with as long as she didn't think too much about it. The scar reminded her of her past, the way it used to match the color of her blind rage. Back then, Cara was in a place where it felt like she could do nothing but make bad decisions, decisions she didn't know she would regret so heavily just a year later. Without being able to stop herself, Cara flashed back to that place, her memories so vivid it felt like she was actually there inside the school, her purple dress billowing out behind her as she pushed someone, hard. The person she pushed stumbled and fell, rolling, rolling, rolling, but not hitting the floor. Not yet. Another bystander screamed and shouted for help, but she couldn't tell who. Screams often sound similar even if they're coming from different people. Cara knew that firsthand. The scream from her memory started looping itself, now echoing in her ears. She gritted her teeth. Bodies crashed to the floor, ambulance sirens wailed, her little brother began to cry…
Cara shuddered. She pushed her long bangs back in front of her face, trying to cover up her scar, but it wasn't much use. The wind picked up again and blew her hair away once more. She stuffed her hands in her sweatshirt pockets and continued on.
Cara often tried to tell herself her past was all behind her now, that it didn't matter anymore, but part of her knew it still did. She couldn't take back the things she had done, and she often questioned if anyone would ever love her again; if anyone had ever loved her at all. She still had flashbacks when she didn't have anyone to talk to, when she was forced to be alone with her thoughts. When those flashbacks started and the memories came flooding in, Cara would come to the beach to calm down. The crashing waves and the sounds of happy kids laughing and playing in the water usually cheered her up. It helped her to pretend that she was one of those kids, that she had laughed like that once. In reality, she used to spend most days crying in her room, or… plotting. Cara winced again and paused, searching for something in her mind. She envisioned herself taking a box full of her old memories and throwing them into the ocean, far, far away. In 7th grade the school had made everyone take a class on mental health, chock full of breathing exercises, signs to look for when a friend might need some “help,” and strategies to deal with anxiety, all of which her classmates deemed stupid and babyish. Cara pretended to agree, but she secretly still used all of the skills the class had taught her. When the beach didn't work, like now, and Cara still felt like she was being invaded by something within herself, she racked her brain for a new exercise, hoping with all her might that the one she thought of would actually make her anxiety go away for real, forever. Anxiety. Cara hated that word.
A robotic whirring noise sounded above her head and Cara looked up, distracted from what was going on in her mind for the first time that day. A drone flew in haphazard circles a few hundred feet in the sky. Cara scanned the beach to see who was manning the robot, and her eyes fell on a group of kids sitting on the rock wall that marked the end of the beach and the beginning of the properties that looked out over the water. They laughed and fought over the drone's controller, causing it to dive, swoop, and cause more than one adult to shout out in fright as it skimmed over the top of their head.
Cara kept walking. She was almost to the edge of the beach now, and her thoughts were creeping back again. How they got out of the ocean-bound box, Cara didn't know, but she didn't like it. This time the thought was flight.
When she was younger, Cara often sat beside her window, looking through the glass and into the clouds, wishing she could get away from it all, wishing she could fly up out of her house and her town and her world and into the sky. Up where she once believed her Papa might be. She didn't believe that anymore, though. If her father really was up somewhere in the sky, wouldn't he have come down and helped her by now? Helped all of them? Hadn't he seen how hard it was for her? Maybe her father didn't love her anymore either, if he could even still love anyone at all. How could he, after all the things she had done?
Cara clenched her fists and felt her face turn red. Her eyes started to sting in an all too familiar feeling. She couldn't cry here… Not in front of everyone on the beach. They would notice; she hated that. Cara walked as fast as she could without running and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and trying to imagine her tears leaving on the breeze created by her exhale. Her mother had taught her how to do that when she was very little, the one strategy she knew that actually worked at all. If you ever get upset or sad, take a deep breath and count to three. You'll feel better afterward, she had said. Cara knew the exercise did calm her down, but she wasn't sure it made her feel any better. The tears left, but the feelings didn't. She shook her head and slowed down her pace, wandering up towards the very end of the beach.
The place where Cara lived didn't have too much to offer besides water, sand, and trees, but that was plenty for her. She wandered up the sandy path lined with beach roses to the small parking lot filled with cars, golf carts, and bikes, just slightly above sea level so the vehicles were safe when high tide came around. Cara left the parking lot quickly enough and continued down the now paved street, keeping to the side of the road and gazing into the forest as she walked. A snake slithered out from under a log and sped deeper into the woods.
Johnny, Cara's little brother, used to have a snake, but it had died when he went off to sleepaway camp for the first time and the creature went unfed and unwatered for a month. When Johnny returned home, he had been devastated. He blamed Cara for not watching Scales, and refused to speak to her for months afterward. Although she had denied it then, Cara knew the death of her brother's pet was, indeed, completely her fault. Johnny had explicitly asked her to care for the snake, but Cara didn't want to go anywhere near the slimy-looking, fanged, possibly deadly monstrosity in Johnny's room, not to mention the dead mice he fed it each week. Though she hated to admit it, part of her also wanted to see what would happen to both the snake and Johnny if she shirked her responsibilities.
Cara let out a small groan. The beach hadn't worked at all this time, and now she didn't know what to do. She wished she had a friend to talk to, but she knew all too well that not many people were excited about becoming acquainted with her. If she had anyone to talk to, then everything would get better, permanently, Cara thought. Even though she was often told otherwise, it still seemed like nobody listened to her, not even her mother or Johnny. Cara slowed her pace on the road and before long had completely stopped, staring off into the distance. Should she even go home?
For a while, she stood on the side of the road, not sure of where to go next. Then she knew.
Cara pivoted and walked into the woods.
Maybe she would find something there, something to stop the pain. She started walking faster.
From inside the woods, just far enough from the road so that people couldn't see him if they passed by, Rein smiled. He could hear someone walking through the trees.

alrightttt i incorporated everything (with some interpretation lol)

woah this is long~

main cabin daily - july 16 2021

prompt:
Soft (@softmoon) has created a workshop on strong word choice! For her daily, write 250 words without using the same verb or adjective twice. Since this is a relatively challenging daily, it is worth 800 points: Another 300 points if you share your writing!


Elle slammed her pencil down on the table, groaning in frustration. The clatter, almost deafening in Elle's dead-quiet room, caused her cat to mewl in fright and jump off the shelf he had been perched on, knocking down nearly every item sitting there before dashing under the bed.
Elle startled, glancing over at the objects on the floor.
“Aw, I'm sorry, Fern… ” Elle quietly stood up from her chair and crept over to her bedside, before kneeling down and sticking her arm under the overhang of sheets. She searched for her fearful kitten in the shadows, and located a lump of fluff a little ways back, stroking it. Before long, a purr began to emanate from the cat and out through the room. Ever since he was a kitten, Fern purred like a motorcycle.
“That's right…” Elle smiled. “You feeling better? C'mon.” She removed her hand and went back to her desk. Fern soon followed.
The clock read just past 7:30. Elle's parents were out to dinner, her sister off on a babysitting job, which left Elle alone in the house. She figured she might as well take advantage of the quiet and write, the only problem being that she couldn't think of anything to put down on paper. Within the first five minutes of her writer's block, Elle opened up her computer and looked for prompt-generators online, but every one she found was either too simplistic or incredibly complex and strange.
“Maybe I'll come back to this tomorrow,” Elle muttered.

fairly sure there aren't any repeats here, but if anyone happens to find any I'll be happy to make some edits <3

weekly #2 - july 15 2021

parts 2 & 3

prompt:

We all know the competitive nature swc always has. The constant fight between cabins to climb to the top. The brutalness of cabin wars. The fight of the “best” cabin genre. Now, take the cabins and imagine them as characters! What if these cabins came to life? How would they interact with the other cabins? Think about your enemies, neutrals, and ally relationships with the other cabins.

You must include at least two different cabins as characters in this story (You can do more! You could even include ALL the cabins <33) A minimum of 800 words for this short story!


Now it’s your time to take the reins and write a fanfiction about swc! I will not be giving you any instructions other than that. The only requirement is that you write 1k words!

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July 9th, 2024 - Quinn's Journal
3:41 PM
The smoldering remains of the Main Cabin still lie in a heaping pile in the center of the Clearing, almost mocking me and the rest of the surviving campers. The slightly unsettling message I get whenever I look at the mass of burnt wood is something along the lines of “you could easily be next,” and that scares me. Even though Alba's gone, completely off the camp grounds as far as we all can tell, I still get the feeling that something terrible is going to happen. If things could get any worse than they are currently.
For now, though, I guess I'm safe, because the rest of the cabins, castles, and other living quarters that are home to campers from other genres are still in one piece. We can only hope that we won't have to face more tragedy any time soon.
You wouldn't be able to tell a thing about everything that's happened the last few days just by looking at the Cabin Circle. A particularly perceptive person might notice a few charred blades of grass or a singular minuscule burn mark on the edge of Mythology's wooden fence, left there courtesy of an airborne ember, but there isn't much to go on, especially if you weren't there when the thing happened.
That's not the right thing to say. Nobody was technically there when it happened except for Bookie, Gigi and Fi.
And now they're gone…

4:02 PM
Everyone's been taking things really hard, but no one more than Hilda. Hi-fí's cabin is out in the middle of the lake, and I'm told she keeps convincing herself that if she and the rest of her campers were up in the Cabin Circle where the rest of the genres were, Alba wouldn't have done the things she had done, and nothing would have happened to Bookie and Gigi and Fi. I guess she thinks she could have prevented things?
I wish I could tell her that nobody could have done anything to stop Alba, that absolutely nothing is her fault, but she probably wouldn't listen to me. Who would? I'm just the weird guy who leads Non-fi. Emphasis on the guy. Still the only male cabin leader in the entirety of camp. I don't want it to seem like I'm complaining, I'm so grateful just to be a part of SWC. I just feel a little… left out sometimes. Is misfit a good word?
There used to be Polar, but he left two years ago to pursue a career in music. Now I'm pretty sure he's part of a band; people say they're becoming pretty successful. I'm so happy for him, and it's great that Polar followed his dreams, but I've been pretty lonely the past few summers. Even my campers seem to lead me more than I lead them.
Why am I so awkward?
Wait. Stop it, Quinn, this isn't a sob story. Maybe it'll turn into one at some point, but for now, it's nothing of the sort. Even if this was a sob story, it's certainly not mine. The only reason I'm putting all this down on paper is to keep a log in case… in case something else happens to us, and we need to be able to tell our story, all of us here at SWC. You know, if none of us are… around anymore.
I don't know if journaling is a good idea or just me being incredibly stupid and paranoid, like I always am. Nobody else had the idea to start a record, though, so I might as well. That is, I don't think anybody had the idea to start a record, but who am I to assume? Maybe people are writing in secret, like I am, hidden away in their bunk beds or leader rooms or some remote corner of the woods.

July 10th
10:27 AM
No one could ever pass through the Clearing without looking at the Main Cabin, you can't help but notice it. Lately, people have been avoiding going out at all because of this, which makes everything too empty and quiet outside. It's not pleasant. Picking up breakfast at Gigi's- or rather, Adora's cafe in the Fan-fic cabin isn't something I look forward to anymore, partly because of the unsettling quiet, and also since I have to carry seventeen meals and make at least five trips to bring food to all of the campers in my cabin who aren't ready to go outside yet. Those who do choose to leave their cabins usually either stare down at their feet on the way around the Cabin Circle, or just stop and stare at the remains of Main Cabin for a while. Some even sit down next to it if they're not going anywhere, looking up into the very center of the pile as if it's going to magically restore itself into a building before their very eyes. A thought like that is the kind of thing Luna or Faye would wish for and tell everyone it would happen if they believed hard enough. I wish it would happen, I'm sure all of us do but it's just not realistic.
If you watch anyone in the presence of the Main Cabin closely enough, you can see a sadness in their eyes. Not a normal kind of sad, though. It's a new, deeper kind of sadness, which nearly none of us have ever experienced before. Cadence is an exception, of course, but that's beside the point. I've spent many mornings waiting for my order inside the Fan-fic cafe watching campers who look like that. I wouldn't be able to count the amount of times I've told myself to actually go outside and talk to one of them, just sit down on the grass next to them and make sure they know somebody's there, but like I've mentioned before, I don't think I would be able to do much good. I'm a better writer than I am a talker.

2:27 PM
The walk to the cafe really is lonley.
Most leaders have their curtains drawn so they can't see the Main Cabin, or what's left of it, every time they look out their windows. I'll draw the curtains if my campers ask for it, but I think we could all use a little natural sunshine. Thankfully, the cabins without any daylight can get ample lighting from the lamps inside, since Alba only took down the phone lines, nothing else.
I can't remember the last time I saw someone in my cabin sit down and write, whether on paper, laptop, or stickynote folded up into a miniature fortune-teller. No one writes anymore, not even as a release. I think everyone's still in shock. And who could blame them? I still am too.
I probably sound like a bit of a hypocrite, don't I? Here I am, talking about how nobody's releasing their feelings through writing, while I'm still unable to actually admit it. To say that Alba burned down the Main Cabin. And that Gigi, Bookie, and Fi are gone.
Well, there, I said it. No more hypocrisy.
I need to go lie down.

5:51 PM
Birdi is rarely seen nowadays, she's so busy in the infirmary we patched together inside Thriller Cabin. Blair was kind enough to it give up and assist us in filling it with cots and equipment for healing injured campers who were badly burnt trying to douse the fire. The other leaders were nice enough to let the Thriller kids who weren't harmed live in their cabins for the rest of the month. Then again, it was an easy task; there was plenty of room. Too many people had to be treated.
Every once in a while I stop in the infirmary to check on Birdi and see if she needs any help. Or at least, I try to stop by. Usually I veer to the right, through the gap between the Thriller and Real-fi cabins, and pretend I was headed into the woods. The thought of talking to Birdi makes me pretty uncomfortable. Then again, the thought of talking to anyone I don't know too well makes me uncomfortable.
It's almost 6:00. I should probably head over to the cafe and get dinner. Adora was so quick to take on the responsibility of running the cafe and making meals for all the campers after Gigi… wasn't able to anymore. Maybe I'll order food and then stop by the lake. I haven't been there in a while.

—

july 11
hilda dowden

I can't believe it's all gone.
The Main Cabin, Bookie, Alba, everything. All gone.
No more first-year campers shouting and laughing, running around the cabins in circles and exploring the camp.
No more sunscreen-clad swimmers splashing around in Scriobh Lake or shrieks of dismay sounding from the losing team in the latest canoe race.
There aren't any more campfires in back of the Poetry cabin, and Lilith doesn't scare campers with her stories of murderous beasts and ghosts that will come steal them away in the night anymore.
I don't think anyone could handle the smell of a campfire now. And ghosts might hit a little too close to home.
It's all gone, and it's all my fault.

Five days ago, on the 7th, Alba came knocking at my door in the middle of the night, asking to talk. It was around 11:55. I remember the time because I checked my phone before opening the door, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I had spent the day urging my campers to complete their weeklies and adding finishing touches to my own document late into the night, and by the time I printed out my final story and slid it into the lockbox, I was ready to collapse. I was nearly asleep when Alba showed up, and although I realize now how serious she was about just needing someone to talk to, I didn't ask her to come inside. I made her leave, not even thinking about the fact that she walked out to Hi-fi Cabin through the woods in the middle of the night just to talk to me, not even feeling the slightest bit flattered that she thought of me first to come visit. No, I made Alba go back through the woods and the Main Cabin and left her to deal with her own thoughts, whatever they might be, not even thinking about her needs.
I still don't know what Alba needed to talk about, and I never will. I don't know whether what she did was an accident or completely intentional.
The next afternoon, Alba burned down the Main Cabin. Everyone was at the river except for her, Bookie, Gigi, and Fi, who were supposed to be getting prizes together for the winning team. They're the only ones who will ever know what really happened, but it's not like we can ask them now…

Lately, all the leaders have been talking about Alba in secret, accusing her of destroying her own camp in a fit of pure evil rage. If Alba's still out there, I'm certainly not going to give up on her that easily. Because the Alba I know wouldn't “turn evil” as if she had a switch on the back of her head that could be flipped on and off.
Then again, the Alba I know wouldn't have burned down the Main Cabin.
Wouldn't have risked the lives of her friends for the sake of getting her anger out.
I'm starting to think I didn't know the real Alba at all, and it scares me.

————————————————————————–

I'm proud of myself >:3

Here are the names I came up with for the cabins, just in case you're interested <3

names:
horror - lilith
non-fi - quinn
adventure - trix
fairy tale - faye
mythology - athena
mystery - cora
dystopian - echo
hi-fi - hilda
contemporary - ava
poetry - cadence
real-fi - flora
thriller - blaire
fan-fic - adora
sci-fi - andromeda
fantasy - luna

main cabin daily - july 18 2021

prompt: Google Translate Song Day! Take some lyrics from any song at all, and put it through Google Translate at least 5 times. Try putting it through as many times as it takes to make your song unrecognizable. Then write a short story based off of your new weird lyrics! 400 words for 500 points. 200 more points if you share your writing!

languages:
- hmong
- somali
- cebuano
- albanian
- luxemborgish
- kannada
- punjabi
- esperanto
- greek
- swedish
- javanese

and back to english <3

original lyrics:
Come along with me
And the butterflies and bees
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Come along with me
To a cliff under a tree
Where we can gaze upon the water
As an everlasting dream
All of my collections
I'll share them all with you
Maybe by next summer
We won't have changed our tunes
We'll still want to be
With the butterflies and bees
Making up new numbers
And living so merrily
All of my collections
I'll share them all with you
I'll be here for you always
And always be with you
Come along with me
And the butterflies and bees
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Living so merrily

translated lyrics:
Υμπάνι
maṭū ciṭṭegaḷu maṭū jēnunoṇagaḷu
Nāvu kāḍina mōle hōgabahudu
maṭū naivu kavavadanu mā'i.
Κο κο
oḍe aḍiyalli
nāvu nīrannu elli nōḍabahudu
atavāṭa kanasinantē
nānu ellavannū barediddēne
nānu nimagellarigū hēḷuttēne
bāhu'āś muḍīnā
nāvu nam'ma saṅgītavannu Badalāyisuvudilla
Nāvu innū adannu kharīdislu bayasuttēve
ciṭṭegaḷu mattu jēnunoṇagaṇondige
Χαά χαά
santōṣadinda Baduku
nānu ellavannū barediddēne
nānu nimagellarigū hēḷuttēne
nānu yāvāgalū n''mondige iruttēne
yāvāgalū jote
ubāni ko
maṭū ciṭṭegaḷu maṭū jēnunoṇagaḷu
Nāvu kāḍina mōle hōgabahudu
maṭū naivu kavavadanu mā'i.
Santōṣadinda Baduku

yes, this was back to english
what… what happened???

uhh you know what? I think I'm just gonna redo this
maybe not choose a language with a different script this time?

main cabin daily - july 18 2021

prompt: Google Translate Song Day! Take some lyrics from any song at all, and put it through Google Translate at least 5 times. Try putting it through as many times as it takes to make your song unrecognizable. Then write a short story based off of your new weird lyrics! 400 words for 500 points. 200 more points if you share your writing!

languages:
- irish
- albanian
- swahili
- latin
- kurdish
- romanian

and back to english <3

original lyrics:
Come along with me
And the butterflies and bees
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Come along with me
To a cliff under a tree
Where we can gaze upon the water
As an everlasting dream
All of my collections
I'll share them all with you
Maybe by next summer
We won't have changed our tunes
We'll still want to be
With the butterflies and bees
Making up new numbers
And living so merrily
All of my collections
I'll share them all with you
I'll be here for you always
And always be with you
Come along with me
And the butterflies and bees
We can wander through the forest
And do so as we please
Living so merrily

translation:
come with me
Mosquitoes and butterflies,
We can go through the forest,
we do
come with me
Next to him sat a tree
Give us water
Like a dream forever
All my collections
I share everything
Last summer
However, we do not change and he accepts ours
We want it too
Mosquitoes and butterflies,
Create a new number
Live happily ever after
All my collections
I share everything
This will always be there
Always be always
come with me
Mosquitoes and butterflies,
We can go through the forest,
we do
live happily;

lol the semicolon

“Come *on*, Eve!” Lucien could hear sticks crunching under their thrifted Doc Martens as they jogged back over to their friend. Eve had been meandering slowly through the trees, taking her time while Lucien ran on ahead, too excited to just *walk*. “I'm way ahead of you, and it's no fun to do a Wood Walk alone! Besides, you're missing out on all the cool stuff. Check out this snakeskin…” They shoved the scaley tube under Eve's nose, who jumped back a step, startled. Carefully, she took the snakeskin out of Lucien's hand and fingered it, bringing it close to her face to examine each small detail. When she was finished, she took a small plastic bag and placed the skin inside it, then sealed the bag and handed it back to her companion.
“That's really cool,” Eve remarked, watching in disdain as Lucien shoved the skin into his messenger bag quite crudely. “But I'm not missing out on anything, you are. I found a really cool ladybug with black wings and red spots, and a couple of Painted Lady butterflies flying around over there by that tree.” She smiled. “You really need to walk a little slowe-”
“MOSQUITO!”

main cabin daily - july 19 2021

prompt: Sea (@sea-doodles) has created a great workshop on varying sentence structure. For her activity, revisit one of your previous writing pieces and pick out a short section of about 200 words. Read it over and pay specific attention to the sentence structures and lengths you used in the passage. Can the sentence structure use more variety, or be modified to fit with the pacing of the scene? Rewrite the passage you picked out with the techniques you’ve learned to vary sentence structure. After you finish, compare the old version with the rewritten one and see whether your edits affect the experience of reading the passage. Write (rewrite) 200 words or more to gain 400 points for your cabin.

original writing:
this excerpt was from my novel phase; a “book” I was writing entitled “The Girl With the Long Black Tail” <3 fun fact - the story was set in Salem during the witch trials, but I did zero research! storyline mostly made zero sense.

The Witch skipped joyfully down the sidewalks of his street, enthusiastically swinging his arms and smiling as he thought about what would happen that evening. Already being 14, most people walking down the street stared at him, and some even pointed. Pebbles and small stones fell out of his pockets as he went. He skipped up the steps of the third mansion and turned the knob, then walked into his house.
He looked around at the familiar objects around the room. A tapestry on the left wall, to it's right the door to the kitchen, and on the opposite side, the dining room. Across the hall was a chest of drawers where everyday supplies were kept. Small knives, charcoal, and coins, among other things. The first door on the right was the bedroom, then down the long hallway was the parlor, living room, and drawing room. Below him was a plush red carpet, and in the middle of the room was a huge staircase that led upstairs, where there were quite a few closets, servants quarters, and the bedrooms where he and his parents slept. At the foot of the stairs was one of the four people who lived in the house: John Agate, the butler. The sorcerer hid his fists full of pebbles behind his back before continuing towards John.

I notice immediately the wording is very confusing, some of my sentences are too long, and the pacing could be improved upon :p
lez do dis >:3

rewrite:

The Witch hurried down the streets of Salem, a goofy grin spread across his face. Children stared and pointed as they walked by him. The Witch was half skipping, half running, 100 percent making a complete fool of himself, his arms flopping uselessly at his sides as he went. Every once in a while they would dive down into his pockets, making sure his cargo was intact.
The Witch looked much older than he actually was (only 14) and this gave him the appearance of a lunatic as opposed to a happy child, causing pedestrians to push over to the far side of the road in an attempt to avoid him. The Witch didn't mind. He didn't even notice. He was far too excited about the afternoon ahead of him.
A small stone fell out of the Witch's pocket and thunked onto the ground. He stopped, frowning, and looked around in the dirt before locating the reddish pebble and placing it carefully back in his pants, giving it a small pat before continuing towards his home.
After a while, the Witch slowed once more, pivoting and bouncing up the steps of his family's mansion. He knocked at the door and it immediately opened, revealing the face of Caldwell, the dead-eyed butler. The Witch absentmindedly started to put his hands in his pockets again but stopped himself. Doing so would cause Caldwell to investigate and possibly confiscate their contents, so instead, the Witch adjusted his posture and stood up straight, hands at his sides.
“Afternoon, Sir,” the butler said without expression.
“Afternoon,” the Witch replied cautiously. For whatever reason, Caldwell had always made him uneasy. "I'll be going up to my room now, is that alright?
Caldwell simply stepped out of the way, and the Witch walked into his house.
He looked around at the familiar entryway. A framed tapestry hung on the left wall, and to its right stood the door to the kitchen. Next to that was the entrance to the dining room, and across the hall was a table whose drawers were filled with mostly random items, all belonging to either the Witch or his father. Charcol and drawing paper, a few coins, and a pocket knife for defense, among other things. The first door on the right side led into the parlor, and further down the hall were the guest bedroom and bathroom. Below the Witch's feet lay a plush red carpet, and in the center of the room was the grand staircase leading upstairs. Up there were the servants' quarters, mostly unused except by Caldwell. The bedrooms where the Witch and his parents slept, as well as two more bathrooms and the entrance to the attic, could also be found on the second floor The Witch trotted through the hall and up the staircase, then took a left and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

hey hello!

my topic is here
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weekly #3 - july 23 2021

parts 1 & 2

prompt:

In Choose Your Own Adventure stories, it's very important to set the scene and use lots of detail. The player needs to make a choice - and to make that choice well, you want them to really understand the situation. So it's important to give a lot of detail surrounding where the character is, what's happening to them at the moment, how they're feeling and what their options are. Write a 300 word scene that could be right before a choice in your choose your own adventure story. You could include the choice or leave it out.

Not all, but most choose your own adventure stories are written in second person. This is because the reader is making the decisions, so you want them to feel as much like the main character as possible. Plan the main character of your story, then write a 200 word scene in second person, focusing on portraying the main character in a natural way.

————————————————————————–

You're still standing at the coffee shop counter, waiting for your drink. It's been quite a while since you ordered. The barista went into the back of the store once she wrote down your request, presumably to prepare it, but now you're not so sure.
It's a lazy Tuesday morning in August, and you'd decided to take a walk around a part of town you don't usually frequent. This cafe caught your eye. You're starting questioning the quality of the service, however, and your legs are getting tired from standing. You make your way over to the other side of the shop with a sigh, and sit down in a booth. The chair you selected faces in towards the rest of the shop, and you take the opportunity to look around.
Along the perimeter of the room, stretching just about three-quarters of the way around, are tables. Some have booths like the one you're in, some have short stools, and there are even a couple of high-back armchairs dispersed throughout. The seating area on the right wall is interrupted about halfway through by a spectacularly clean glass door, advertising the words “iF-iW eerF” from the inside. Seating continues again on the other side of the door with a half-circle booth. Outlets are stationed at intervals along the bottom. On the right-hand side of the shop is a cabinet filled with coffee mugs and teacups, most likely for decoration only, and next to them is the door to the back of the shop where the barista disappeared. Framed images of the shop owner, smiling customers, and the “killer” breakfast sandwiches that are served here are scattered across the walls. The counter you were standing at before appeared to have a pastry case all the way around the bottom, but you see now that it cuts off at a sharp angle on the left, continuing back into the wall as plain wood. There's no kitchen equipment of any kind in the front of the shop, which seems a little odd for such a small cafe, but who are you to judge?
The barista still isn't back. You check your watch again, getting irritated. It's been five minutes since the last time you looked at it. Where's your coffee? And what in the world is taking your server so long in the back?
Seven more minutes pass. The shop is still completely empty.
You've always been a bit of a worrier, so maybe it's just paranoia, but something feels a little… off. What if something happened to the barista and you need to help? You get up from your seat and venture over to the door the barista went through, giving the knob a jiggle. It's unlocked, and you can easily go through it.

What do you do?

a) Open the door and look for the barista
b) Go back to your seat and wait it out

(choice a)

Slowly, carefully, you open the door, twisting the knob as silently as you can manage, in case there really is danger back here. You don't want something that could have harmed the barista to go after you too.
“Hello?” you shout after a few seconds, once you're sure nothing is going to jump out at you.
There's no answer. The barista doesn't appear to be in the room, but you should probably take a closer look.
The back of the coffee shop does, indeed, contain plenty of equipment for cooking and preparing drinks, including a rack of knives, a giant oven, two sinks, a counter loaded with cups and to-go containers, and four large coffee makers over in the corner. One of them has a cup underneath its spout, but there's no steam rising up off the top. The coffee is nearly cooled. You venture closer to the coffee maker and look inside the cup, then bring it up to your face, sniff it, and give it a tentative sip. Black coffee, what you ordered. Purely out of curiosity, you go over to the oven and open it. Sure enough, what looks to be a bagel sandwich lies within, completely burnt to a crisp. The temperature dial reads 350. Unlike the coffee maker, which stopped on its own, the oven never turned off. You twist the knob to shut it.
Stepping away from the stove, you stop and try to process the thoughts rushing through your head. You guess it had to have been about 15 minutes between the time the barista went into the back of the shop and now. If it took the barista a minute to get the sandwich into the oven (they're all pre-made in the morning, you know this from having worked in a cafe like this yourself in high school), and the oven was all the way on 350, and the barista never got a chance to turn off the oven before your food burned, it means that she left the room quite a while ago.
Or was taken from it, you think with a shudder.

i follow you forever :3

weekly #3 - july 24 2021

parts 3 & 4

prompt:

Choose your own adventures have lots of choices - so it's important to plan beforehand! Make a diagram or plan of some kind where you plan out the rough scenes and choices in your story. There's no word limit, but you need to plan out all the paths in your story. Your story will need at least 4 endings, and the reader will need to make at least two choices no matter what path they take - so you'll need at least three choices.

Time to write! Write a 1000 word choose your own adventure story. You need at least 4 endings and the reader needs to always make at least two choices before finishing.

————————————————————————–

planning!


part 4 (the final story) can be found here.