Critical essay of Rommel – WIP

{removed 5/22/24 - i should actually work on this essay more lol i haven't touched it in like a year. but the problem with it was that… it was… not scratch-appropriate. oops ^^' i'll leave the sources up if you still want to take a look at them}

Sources:
I'll do proper citations later, but here are my sources so far:

• Afrika Korps War Crimes - The “War Without Hate” Myth (video by Mark Felton)
  
• Knight's Cross: A Life of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel (book by David Fraser)
  
• Patton, Montgomery, Rommel: Masters of War (book by Terry Brighton)
  

Writing Snippets

Hello! These are four short snippets that I wrote; some of them could be future writing comp entries! Two of them were written in first person (one in past tense, one in present tense) which I'm not accustomed to, but I think I did it well enough! Here’s a quick rundown of what each is about.

1. Manfred Rommel’s desertion
I really wanted to write about Manfred leaving his post and heading towards the 1st French Army. Unfortunately, because of lack of research sources, I doubt I’ll be continuing this ^^'

2. Fantasy horror piece
This doesn’t have a particular theme; I just wanted to try out genres I’m not familiar with :>

3. A German immigrant to Great Britain, on the White Cliffs of Dover
I originally wanted to write a similar piece, but in Rommel’s perspective. However, I didn’t want to be feeding words into his mouth, seeing that I would be writing about my opinions of him. So, I just chose to write about an unnamed character who was in entirely different circumstances.

4. A brief reflection on Rommel
This is pretty self-explanatory ;3 by the way, though I've borrowed ideas from the sources I read on Rommel, the wording of the piece is entirely by me.

Note: none of them have official titles yet, seeing that they're just short writing snippets. Also, the four snippets are not related whatsoever.

1.
⠀⠀⠀⠀He reprimanded himself sternly. Father is dead!
⠀⠀⠀⠀Erwin Rommel is dead. Dead, because he dared to silently resist the regime. Dead, because he had wanted to save the crumbling nation from the madman in charge.
⠀⠀⠀⠀He goes on and on about obeying your superiors, but the truth is that there’s no one worth obeying anymore.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Manfred’s heart sank in despair.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Soon, there might not be even a Germany left to defend.


2.
⠀⠀⠀⠀The pool of swirling darkness inches closer and closer towards me. It is poison, poison diluted by time into this utter horror. A noxious fume rises up from the pool. I gag, but don’t dare take my eyes away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Then the pool shifts. Grotesque figures stretch up. Tendons ripping, purple veins pulsating, jagged teeth dripping with that same awful substance they emerged from, endless abysses for eyes.
⠀⠀⠀⠀I have not the slightest doubt. These are the nightmares of my childhood.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Terrified, I turn and flee in a random direction. The pool and its creatures follow. As my bare feet squelch over moss damp with swamp water, the poison pool was right behind. It laps at my ankle, and the monsters inside grab for me, eager to swallow me like they did to so many other souls.


3.
1990
⠀⠀⠀⠀I stood on the weathered White Cliffs of Dover, the grass cushioning my feet. The light of the setting sun draped my surroundings in a rosy glow. Wisps of cotton clouds danced in the dusk sky, which met sea on the horizon and stretched out for miles ahead. The cool breeze carried the distinct scent of seawater.
⠀⠀⠀⠀From the top of this majestic landmark, I caught a glimpse of the shores of France across the Channel. The Cliffs had been the symbol of an entry point into Britain, and during the war they were guarded closely.
⠀⠀⠀⠀I closed my eyes. Though it had been half a century since the invasion, the memory of it was still fresh in my mind. My former compatriots in vicious air combat with my new country, the planes pummeling into the sea from the sky.
⠀⠀⠀⠀And further back, I remembered how I had arrived here myself. A country of bitter people seeking justification and revenge, leading to the war that scarred the world.
⠀⠀⠀⠀I had loved my country. Germany, the land where I grew up. But I’ve escaped, with my life and with my family. It was ultimately a good thing I did.


4.
⠀⠀⠀⠀{removed 5/22/24 - this was a bit too pro-rommel for my tastes oops}

Stottlemeyer meets Stauffenberg

I randomly wrote this because my sister Misty likes to mash up their names ;3
By the way, me and Misty just started the second season (we finished episode four yesterday) so this fanfic isn't up-to-date with the canonical timeline ^^
Main characters are Captain Leland Stottlemeyer (from the television show Monk) and the historical figure Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg.

One day, Captain Leland Stottlemeyer of the San Francisco Police Department was randomly chilling in his office, eating a chicken sandwich. It was lunch hour, and all of the officers were doing who-knows-what. Just then, his assistant Lieutenant Randy Disher suddenly burst in holding a small television.
“What is this, Lieuten-”
Disher cut him off. “Captain, are you ready for this?”
Stottlemeyer sighed inwardly. The officer could be extremely melodramatic at times. “Just tell me what it is, Lieutenant.”
Disher obeyed, his mood just as enthusiastic as it was when he entered. "You're never going to believe it, but this television has, well, magical powers!“
For a few moments, Stottlemeyer was silent as he thought of something to say. He decided to just go with one word– ”Well?"



(work in progress)

“Are you ready for this” or something suits Randy’s next sentence lol

OOOOOOH YES YES YES

The Long Long Holiday FAQ
Q: What is The Long Long Holiday?
A: I’m glad you asked! The Long Long Holiday–or Les Grandes Grandes Vacances in its original French–is a miniseries about two Parisian children, Ernest and Colette Bonhoure, going to their grandparent’s house in the town of Grangeville (which is in Normandy) at the outbreak of World War Two. Their vacation is prolonged as the Germans invade and as their parents leave for various reasons (their mother Lucy goes to a sanitorium in Switzerland to treat her illness, and their father heads to the front to fight).

Q: Sounds interesting. Should I watch it?
A: YES YES YES YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD! I understand that it may seem like it’s targetted for a younger audience, and it actually is. But the show is something that the whole family could watch. TLLH is heartwarming and teaches important morals about friendship and courage. In addition, it provides a very interesting perspective of WWII and lets us see life on the home front.
There are tons of interesting characters, including a couple of adventurous kids who make friends with the Bonhoure siblings, a quirky but well-meaning postman, a kindhearted German soldier, a high-class Wehrmacht colonel with occasional anger issues, a mysterious and yet caring schoolteacher, and more. It’s really an exceptional show.
This all leads to my next point:

Q: What’s the recommended age for watching this show?
A: Despite being a children’s show, TLLH contains content that may not be suitable for everyone. In general, it’s pretty kid-friendly (of course it’ll be, seeing it’s an animated show), but I’d like to tell you about anything you need to be aware of.
Language – in the English dub, minor swear words like “dam” and “hell” are occasionally said. The characters also refer to the Germans as “Fritz” and sometimes “Krauts” as well. Also, there is swearing in German, but I believe that it only occurs thrice in the whole show. And in the original French dub I think there are more swear words, but since I don’t know French I can’t testify to that.
About the content – there’s a Nazi flag in the show and two German soldiers do the salute and say (you know what). Aside from these specific things, there are also some other general topics in the show: racism and violence. The darker sides of the war (the SS and the Holocaust) are lightly mentioned, but there are still characters deeply affected by them. (It's worth noting that there are no SS soldiers in the show; all of the named and unnamed German soldiers are from the Wehrmacht, I believe.) All in all, I think the show can actually be great for introducing the said topics to a kid or something, without getting too bogged up in the details.
In conclusion, as long as the child in question has general background knowledge of WWII it should be alright for them to watch it, and if that doesn’t apply I think it should be suitable for children ages 9 and up in general.

Q: How long is it, and where can I find the full show to watch?
A: TLLH is pretty short, being the miniseries it is. It’s divided up in two ways – 10 episodes that are 20-something minutes long, and 5 episodes that are almost 50 minutes long each. Both add up to about 4 hours, so it should be a pretty easy binge. I personally recommend you finish it as soon as possible; it took me two weeks to finish watching and I’ve ended up seeing so many spoilers that I practically knew the whole entire ending.

(hi sorry the info below is outdated ^^' it's not really available on YT anymore)
Anyways, the show (divided into five eps) is available on Amazon Prime if you have it. It’s apparently not on any other streaming devices, so you’ll probably have to watch it on Youtube (where it’s the 10-ep version). Unfortunately, the first episode (at least the English dubbed one) isn’t on there, but the rest of the show is! As for what to do with the first ep, I think you can just skip it and start episode two. You really wouldn’t miss much that way. That being said, if you want to watch the first episode, I think the Portugese dub is on Youtube, so you can watch it and try to get a sense of what’s happening. If you really want to watch the first episode, in English, for free, I guess you can use an “unoffical movie site” as they call it, though I think it should really be considered a last resort.

That’s all! If you have any questions, feel free to ask in this topic or on my profile. Hope you enjoy the show!

Sandy-Dunes wrote:

About the content – there’s a Nazi flag in the show and two German soldiers do the salute and say (you know what).

When you said ‘you know what,’ I was thinking ‘Ha!l Hydra’ lol. Sound like a really good show too.

-DesVision- wrote:

Sandy-Dunes wrote:

About the content – there’s a Nazi flag in the show and two German soldiers do the salute and say (you know what).

When you said ‘you know what,’ I was thinking ‘Ha!l Hydra’ lol. Sound like a really good show too.

Haha xD they do kinda sound similar.
And yeah, it really is a good show! I think you would really like it.

SWC March 2022

Hey, everyone! Below is my work for SWC this session.
(Yes, I'm still alive! I'll finish taking care of all my Scratch stuff, like replying to messages, before March starts.)

sigh - this should've never been here

Weekly 1
Part 1: Poems

452 words!

1. Elegy

This is about the character Mr. Herpin from TLLH. Normally this would be the place where I argue that he’s a decent character despite his Dumbledore-like attitude towards the Robinsons, but I really don’t have time :<
I rather like the rhyme scheme I did for this one

Silence fall over the dusky morning
Husky whispers exchanged
The war was over, the occupation gone,
But at what cost?

Grangeville falls into mourning
Everything had changed
The war had been brutal, the occupation long
So many lives lost

Among the dead
One in particular stands
His carefully hidden secret
Now comes to light

Resistance he led
Respect he commands
In death he tried to protect
The children in firefight

On that fateful night
Surrounded, cornered
“Viva la France!”
His last words echo clear

At the soldiers’ might
He submitted to eternal surrender
Gave the dear children the chance
To escape the besieged lair

The schoolteacher is no more
Resting peace he has finally found
And thus follows posthumous renown
A legacy made

In the heavens Sparrowhawk soars
Wingtips grazing the clouds
In the hearts of his beloved town
He will never fade


2. Haiku

This is pretty simple and self-explanatory

The dead of winter
no flowers will ever bloom
until spring returns


3. Free Verse

Some random thing I wrote with a twist :>

Sometimes it seems as if
However you try
Success will never come
At your door

You try to control your fate
But nothing seems to work
Everything you do
Is failing

Failing,
Failing,
Your goal fading further away

Is it something you’re doing wrong?
Should you change your tactics?
Strategy?
Should you just wait for change,
Wait until it gets better?

You try all of these
Nothing works
Just yet

Maybe one day you’ll find a way
Just keep working
Testing
Trying
Doing what you must do

Alas,
This is merely a generic
Motivational piece
I cannot give you the true answer
To what you need
Just do what you think you should do
Resist the temptations
(I know, I’m a hypocrite too)
You’ll find a way…

Or not.
Because that’s quite possible
RIP


4. Soliloquy

This is for Fernand, from my fanfic ^^

I’m finally free from hell on earth
Yet the past always dog my footsteps
I always see skeletons not there,
My nightmares are relentless

Will I ever be free?
Free from the haunting memories?
Or will they keep on chasing me
Twist the truth, twist my dreams?

I make the journey
Home is so far away
But it is just so close
So I set out yet again today

I could only hope
For my loved ones’ safety
Separated for years
From my friends and family
We survivors are all the same,
Seeking our past lives
Some of us fail on the road
Others making it despite the world’s strife

I hope to be one of the latter

5. Triolet

A generic despair-ish poem.

The bleak world stretches around me
Death and destruction everywhere
As far as the eye can see
The souls of the lost press on me
They shall never sleep in peace
Among the smoking rubble here
So now it’s only me
Haunted by ghosts everywhere


Part 2: Essays

I originally planned for this to be a meticulously researched and well-cited criticism of Rommel. Instead, it’s something that I had to speedrun for a SWC weekly. Oops. Ahh, well, it doesn’t matter! I can always improve on this essay.
Oh, yeah, disclaimer: I’m not a N@zi, blah blah blah, but you know that already. If you’re not comfy with that kind of content, though, feel free to scroll past this!
Back then I was quite the Rommel fangirl but after a while I learned to recognize his mistakes and the fact that he was a normal human being, with ambiguous morals. Y'know, like my thesis says
621 words!

{removed 5/22/24 - this was the same thing that was in post #41 ^^}


Part 3: Script Writing

For this part I scriptified the first chapter of my Epik Crossover. Oh my goodness, I wrote that four months ago! How things have changed then. Anyways, here it goes. 770 words!

Scene 1. September 22nd, 1776. Morning.

A CROWD gathers below a gallows, with a tree standing next to it. JAMES, SARAH, and HENRI join the crowd. A BALD EAGLE lands on the tree and caws.

HANGMAN, who is wearing all black, stands on the gallows. He yells at the BALD EAGLE, then turns to the CROWD.

HANGMAN
Welcome! I’m the Hangman. I’m here to hang the man!

The crowd shouts at him
WOMAN 1
Are you here to hang the arsonist?

HANGMAN
(startled)
Huh? No, I don’t think so

The crowd continues booing at him. The KIDS watch anxiously.
HANGMAN looks down at a piece of paper.

HANGMAN
But we do have… a spy

MAN 1
(disdainfully)
A spy? Spies are good for nothing, these cowards.

The CROWD begins to dissipate. JAMES watch in disappointment

JAMES
Wait!

(No one looks back)

Don’t they care about Nathan?

Sarah sighs
SARAH
I think not.

NATHAN HALE enters, with his hands tied behind his backs. He is a young captain of the Continental Army. PROVOST follows him in, clad in full British Army uniform. HALE smiles briefly at the KIDS, but his expression turns back to one of despair. PROVOST approaches the KIDS.

PROVOST
What are you three doing here? I’m the Provost, you know; I won’t bother with this silly nonsense. Don’t think you can get him out of this.

(He glowers at the KIDS.)

He’ll be hanged whether you like it or not.

JAMES looks back at the PROVOST with a clear expression of annoyance and anger.

HANGMAN
That’s right, kiddos. Your friend is going to be hung.

HALE
Hanged. Not hung.

HANGMAN shrugs

PROVOST
Exactly! Spying against the King is treason! Punishable by death! I have orders to…

(He reaches for something inside his coat but comes up empty.)

Where are the blasted orders? We can’t hang spies without orders! I must have left it back at headquarters. Alright, I’ll be right back


PROVOST exits the stage, whistling a merry tune.
There is silence among the five remaining at the gallows.

HANGMAN
Well, this is awkward

(He turns to HALE, who stares somberly back at him.)

Do you want to practice your last words, Mr…

HALE
Hale. Nathan Hale. And I haven’t thought of my last words yet.

He and HANGMAN engage in a discussion about last words.
Meanwhile, HENRI shakes JAMES’s arm and points to the eagle. SARAH looks at it as well.

SARAH
I wonder what that’s doing there.

HANGMAN
Give me liberty or give me—what was it— a sandwich!

HENRI hears this and turns to him.

HENRI
(excitedly)
A sandwich?

HALE
No, not a sandwich

HENRI looks disappointed at this. So does HANGMAN.

Death. “Give me liberty or give me death.”

JAMES
Yeah, Patrick Henry said that last year. They weren’t exactly last words

HANGMAN continues to brainstorm last words.

HALE
You really do want a sandwich.
HANGMAN nods cheerfully.

HANGMAN
Yes, I do

HENRI
Me too!

HANGMAN laughs

HANGMAN
Well, I have a sandwich waiting for me at home. You can have one too, when this whole thing is over.

Everyone falls silent, realizing the implication of what HANGMAN has said. Even HANGMAN himself knew it.

HANGMAN
I’m sorry.

HALE nods.

HANGMAN
You seem like a really nice fellow. I regret that I don’t have an extra life to give you.

HALE closes his eyes. The KIDS watches him anxiously.
Finally, he opens his eyes again.

HALE
(solemnly)
I regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.

HANGMAN
Ooh, nice! Were these your last words? Somebody write that down!


JAMES scribbles down the quote into his notepad. The BALD EAGLE jumps off the tree and flaps around, then flies at HALE. SARAH shrieks. Pandemonium breaks out.
HENRI falls off of the gallows, and SARAH jumps down to help him. JAMES jumps at the BALD EAGLE and grabs it by its talons. They both fall down.
Suddenly, a massive BOOK begins to fold from the gallows. HANGMAN jumps down as well, trying to get away. The BOOK sandwiches HALE between its covers.

HANGMAN
(indignantly)
Hey! That was–

(The BOOK closes and falls silent)

What the heck just happened?

No one spoke. Then, HALE falls out of the book and looks at the EAGLE. JAMES does so as well, and sees that the EAGLE was no longer an eagle, but a PERSON. He lets go.

The PERSON had on 21st-century clothing. His face was a modern-day American flag, with fifty states/stars, and he had sunglasses on. He grins at everyone else, then lowers his sunglasses. He had bright blue eyes.

PERSON
‘Sup?


Part 4: Nonfiction

SABATON IS AWESOME BAHAHAHA

Informational/argumentative piece

442 words

Sabaton is a Swedish heavy metal band formed in 1999. Its current members are Joakim Brodén, Pär Sundström, Chris Rörland, Hannes Van Dahl, and Tommy Johansson. As of March 2022, the band has released 10 albums: Primo Victoria, Attero Dominatus, Metalizer, The Art of War, Coat of Arms, Carolus Rex, Heroes, The Last Stand, The Great War, and The War to End All Wars. Most of its albums are about military history, and the band often includes covers or tributes to metal songs in their albums. The name “Sabaton” ties to the band’s theme of war; a sabaton is a knight’s foot armor.

While it has been suggested that Sabaton seeks to glorify war in their songs, I believe that this is not true of the band overall. Sabaton’s lead singer, Joakim Brodén, had explicitly stated that the band does not glorify war; instead, they “simply think that these stories shouldn’t be forgotten.” The band tells the tales of many courageous heroes of history, military or otherwise, whose story might have away from public knowledge otherwise. Their album Heroes is dedicated to this purpose, and the truth is that the only song in the said album whose topic I was familiar with is Hearts of Iron, about General Walther Wenck and his 12th Army.

It’s certainly true that many of their songs do appear to glorify war and destruction: Ghost Division, about the feared 7th Panzer Division of World War Two, and Attero Dominatus, about the Soviet invasion of Berlin, are two examples. However, these songs (and many others) are merely lessons in history. Also, quite a few Sabaton songs reflect the madness and terror of war as well: Great War, The Price of a Mile, Versailles, A Lifetime of War, The End of the War to End War, Angels Calling, Purple Heart, and many more.

As a principle, history is not all peace and harmony, as we have seen too often. Rather, it is important to learn about the ugly sides of history, lest we repeat the same mistakes again. And Sabaton shows this theme subtly but wonderfully. They sing from many different perspectives of war, and usually abstain from making judgement on specific groups of people. The Germans of the Third Reich and WWII, for one thing, are often shown as tragic villains: stand-bys of everything going on around them, but still human beings.

In conclusion, Sabaton is just an amazing band of history bards, set on explaining history from a plethora of perspectives. While their content may not be to everyone's tastes, they combine history and metal in a spectacular fashion, and listening to their songs is always worthwhile.


Narrative memoir

435 words

As of March 6th, It has been five months since I’ve first heard of Sabaton and started to listen to their songs. It had been a wild ride for me, adding to my knowledge of history and giving me a broader scope of music taste.

What had started this journey was a countryhumans PMV, using part of the song The End of the War to End All Wars. It depicted the important events of World War One and the aftermath of the conflict. Seeing the drawing skills and the historical accuracy that the artist employed, I was instantly interested. That, combined with the catchy yet haunting lyrics of the song, prompted me to view the original song by Sabaton. It was Friday October 8th, 2021, as recorded by my diary.

I was initially quite skeptical of the grotesque cover art of the album, but after finding the section of the song that the PMV used, I found that I enjoyed the song. Thus, I began to listen to even more songs from Sabaton by putting them on shuffle. The Red Baron, Attack of the Dead Men, Uprising, Ghost Divison, Panzerkampf, Screaming Eagles, No Bullets Fly – all came up. I was fascinated by the historical themes that the band put into their songs; I was a huge fan of history, and I saw that this would be a great experience for me. And I gained new knowledge from researching the stories behind the songs.

Of course, I wasn’t used to the style of singing, as I’ve never really listened to metal before, and the first time around it was rather difficult for me to hear the lyrics correctly without referencing them. Though this problem was never completely resolved (especially since I often listen to songs that I haven’t learned the full lyrics of, causing me to mishear them), it did get better as time went on. As I went beyond simply checking out a few songs, I stayed around and managed to see new releases: Christmas Truce, Soldier of Heaven, and The Unkillable Soldier, all from the much-anticipated The War to End All Wars. And soon, the rest of the album came out on March 4th, and like other fans across the globe I was delighted.

Sabaton’s songs are truly a work of art. From songs lionizing the struggles of heroes both known and unknown, to descriptions of larger conflicts and engagements, to slow-paced laments of the death and destruction of war, I had enjoyed all of them greatly. I certainly hope that I would continue to be a part of the fanbase in the future!

“Journeys We Must Take” should be “Journey We are meant to Take” from Fly Away

It was actually subconsciously inspired by that lol
The name just popped into my head one day and I thought it sounded familiar
And then it turns out that it's from Fly Away! Don't worry, I'll be sure to give credit

Anyways, you're online! I thought it was some random SWCer stalking my forum who commented here, lol

MC Daily 3/6

FIRST OFF I’M SUPER SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY HISTORICAL INACCURACIES AND SUCH
I HAVE HOMEWORK TO DO AND I JUST SPEEDRAN THIS AND I BARELY DID RESEARCH
SORRY
But anyways, this is a crossover of two songs by Sabaton, Lady of the Dark and Far From the Fame! My sister Misty did the daily with me, and her version is here. Also, here's the comment thread with our discussion. Have fun reading!
313 words.

“The excitement never lasted long, eh?”

Karel Janoušek, a field marshal who hailed from Czechoslovakia, tapped his fingers on the oak wood desk that he sat behind. It was dark here in this space; the only light source came from a dim bulb suspended from the ceiling. He quietly waited for a response from the figure sitting across.

“It didn’t,” Serbian Sergeant Milunka Savić admitted. Though she sounded regretful, under her hood a hint of a smile played on her features. Some of her numerous medals reflected the little light in the room, sending particles of brightness around the pitch-black room like stars in the night sky. But many others were dull and faded, like the aura she radiated. She, like the field marshal, was an old spirit.

“Yet it was still the time of our lives.”

As unlikely as it seemed, it was true. He was an exiled warrior, and she was a pacifist. And somehow, they managed to break the confines of what was possible, aiding their home country with their effort. It hadn't been easy, but they did what they could, contributing a small amount to what they believed in.

Milunka Savić nodded. She was reminiscing about her days on the battlefield, where she had relished her freedom and adventures. But these days were long past. “Everything changed later.”

Unfairly imprisoned. A normal, no, less than normal life spent in anonymity. And finally, death took both of them. They were forgotten, turned into shadows melting away into the pages of history. As the two soldiers sit here in this timeless space, looking at each other, they wonder:

Who will tell our stories?

Maybe one day, in the world of the living, someone will. Maybe their actions, their heroics, their service will come to light once again. Be remembered. But for now, they would have to wait.

The lightbulb flicks out.

Go check out Far From the Fame and Lady of the Dark right now :0 and listen to more of Sabaton's songs if you like them!

hmm maybe this once existed
i might put it back one day, who knows?

Weekly 2
Part 1: Short Collaborative Story

Done between me and Misty! My writing is in blue and hers is in green. Our comment thread is here! I have 450 words and Misty has 462 words; total is 912 words!

Patton was taking a nap peacefully at noon when the ringing of the telephone jolted him awake. He grumbled, reluctantly climbing out of his comfortable spot on the bed to reach for the telephone: “George S. Patton. What the #@$*@#$ do you want?” He growled into the phone.

Rommel sighed in annoyance. “It's me, Rommel,” he said into the phone. “Monty found something that we think you might want to see.”

Meanwhile, the British field marshal yelled from behind him. “Yeah, get over here, you idiot!” Patton slammed the phone down with a huff and stood up.

He quickly changed, not missing a single medal on his coat. If he left one behind, Monty would abuse him about it all day. He had to flaunt his achievements, anyway. He grabbed a motorcycle that he found on the ground. It was probably his driver's. He didn't hesitate to take it. Easier to seek forgiveness than permission. When he was just starting the engine, he realized they didn't tell him where. He screeched in frustration and sprinted back in his command center thingy.

Monty yawned and stretched on a hammock. Rommie, meanwhile, was serenely watching the sunset on the beach while sipping his coconut milk. Neither of them was at their own command center they had established in Hawaii, so they couldn't receive Patty's furious and persistent call. “Where are all of you?” Little did he know that they were at the state where he had gone to in his youth. Finally, Captain Aldinger and some aide of Monty's tracked their respective superiors down.

Patton was very very very angry. He was screeching in his headquarters. Meanwhile, Aldinger hurried over to Rommie: “Eyo! Patton is calling! He will murder you if you don't answer!” he wailed. Rommie raised an eyebrow: “Just answer it yourself.” Aldinger obeyed and shakily answered.

“@#$$@@$$%@^*#&@#$&$&&*&^#$^^&&%$$!@!” Patton screamed: “Where the @$%@ are you?”

Aldinger almost got a concussion from his yelling. “Sir, this is Captain Aldinger, and-”

“WHERE?“

”I-in Hawaii, sir!"

"THAT'S NOT HELPFUL! WHERE IN HAWAII?“

”Honolulu!“ the former landscape architect answered, apprehension turning into annoyance. ”At Waikiki Beach! Now can you get over here?"

Patton, unaccustomed to being challenged, slammed down the phone yet again.

He motorcycled to the airport. “This is an emergency!” He told them: “I have to board a flight to Waikiki Beach in Honolulu of Hawaii. Now.”

The plane director guy blinked: “Now? There's a plane going there in an hour, if you could wait…”

“NO!” Patton swore foully, and the director guy winced: “I'm sorry, sir, but we cannot-”

“YES YOU CAN!” Patton slammed his fist onto the non-existent table. “It's an EMERGENCY!”

“I would, but-”

“YO!” Patton called to a pilot: “Take moi to Waikiki Beach!”

The pilot took one look at Patton and saw who he was. “OWO IT'S GEORGIE PATTON HIIIIIII I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!” he simped. “IT WOULD BE AN HONOR TO TAKE YOU!”

Patton was pleased. “Alright, then, let's get moving!”

The pilot took Patton onto a red plane. “Like the Red Baron!” the pilot said happily. He then started the controls and flew the plane over the U.S. towards the Pacific. “How's Beatrice doing? What about your kids? Willie? What kind of food does he eat?” the pilot asked ecstatically.

“Confined information,” Patton shrugged before grabbing a parachute.

“Wait! Before you go, sign my autograph!” The pilot squealed. Patton snatched a pen and did a messy signature, then jumped off the plane with his parachute as the pilot continued squeaking. He, unfortunately, landed right on Rommel and knocked him over. Monty burst into laughter at the scene.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT GENERAL?” the pilot yelled from up at the plane. He hurriedly found somewhere to land and jumped off ASAP, but by the time he got to the scene only Monty was there.

“Hey, where did Georgie go?” the pilot asked him.

Monty shrugged and took Rommel's coconut milk. “I dunno. It's already 9 PM now; how are you gonna find him in the pitch black? Still, Mr…”

“Hartski!” the pilot helpfully provided.

“Mr. Hartski, it was a wonder how you got here so fast. Three hours?”

“We sped a little,” the pilot shrugged. He was disappointed that he only got to talk to his role model for such a short time, but enjoyed it nevertheless. “I have to head back now,” he said solemnly.

But just then, Patton returned! “Hey, that's not fair!” he yelled at Monty. “You set Lieutenant Hartski up!”

Monty only shrugged.

Meanwhile, the lieutenant was overjoyed that his role model actually knew his name. “General Patton!”

Patton nodded at him, his uniform ironed and full of medals. In the moonlight, he looked like both a remarkable figure and a tangible personality, tough but accepting. Even Rommel, dusting off his Pour le Mérite, was slightly impressed.

“Now, what’s the thing you were gonna show me?” He asked Rommel.

“Oh, it’s this thing-“ he pointed to a stone that Monty was holding.

“A stone?!” Patty screeched.

“Yes, but it could stop people from swearing.”

“#*#&@&*$)$*@=@&#((#*#*#*-*#*$&&@&*@%!” Patton screamed as the stone was thrown at him and he couldn’t swear anymore. He attempted to swear but what came out was the censored versions. He screeched and chased after Monty for the rest of eternity, while Rommel and Hartski just watched.

“Woah…“ Hartski said in wonder, as he watched Patton run around.

”Nice choice you've got for role model there," Rommel said, drinking his coconut milk again as the sun rose.




Part 2: Character

Total 539 words!

Name: Elsie Lasker
Age: 15
Species: Human

Personality and Traits: 226 words
Elsie is a quiet and introspective girl. In terms of the MBTI personalities, she is an INFP. Her attention is often turned inside towards her own thoughts, daydreams, and hopes. This can make her seem rather aloof, but she has the ability to see and interact with the outside world with remarkable engagement. She could notice incredibly minuscule details, and this is especially true in regards to other people. Elsie could sense their feelings and hold a large amount of empathy for their needs, even if it’s just something tiny like a kind word or a phrase of praise. And she would try to give these to them.

Towards herself, Elsie doesn’t set many expectations, but she often feels that she isn’t good enough in a certain aspect, whether it be intellect or social interaction, when an incident in regards to it happens. However, it’s mostly Imposter Syndrome getting to her, coupled with the fact that she focuses a lot on her own thoughts. Otherwise, however, she’s quite accepting of herself for the most part; she doesn’t find fault with her looks, she accepts her ignorance (albeit sometimes grudgingly) on certain topics, and she tends to take an optimistic view of her life and the world. Of course, this can spiral down into pessimism during a crisis, but her outlook on life will always rise again.


Wants, Hopes, and Strengths: 200 words
Though Elsie doesn’t always recognize it, she actually has many strengths. She is an excellent student, particularly in the sciences, though she enjoys the arts the most. The way that she understands the feelings of others is also greatly appreciated by those around her. Her outward patience often leads to amicable outcomes in dealing with others, even if she doesn’t realize it.

Within a small-knit community of family and friends, all Elsie hopes is for them to be safe, and sometimes she wishes that she could stay with them forever. She also really wants free time, to pursue all the subjects that she finds interesting and to have a deeper understanding of them. And though she enjoys making the occasional small talk or the (more-preferred) deep conversation, sometimes Elsie would also want to be alone with her thoughts.

But a larger hope of hers is to make something beautiful, that humankind would appreciate. It doesn’t have to be world-changing; in fact, Elsie is rather hesitant about doing something so impactful, because she doesn’t have the utmost faith in her abilities to make the best decisions. Yet she wants to make more personal contributions, by the fruit of her own effort.


Dislikes and Fears: 113 words
Elsie is a pretty temperate person; she usually doesn't mind what others do and is quite accepting. However, she dislikes overly bossy people and braggarts, thinking that they are not the best leaders and usually don’t pay much attention to what other people need. She also dislikes insensitive and demanding people, because they personally get on her nerves.

She has mostly come to accept change and even embrace it on occasion, but sometimes when it’s too drastic or intimidating, she tends to fret over it excessively. She also fears rejection by her peers. Finally, and this is quite important, she fears running out of time to accomplish what she can in this world.


Part 3: Setting

Kinda inspired by The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place ehehe
412 words!

The setting of the story is the mysterious Yorkcaster forest. Dark and thick, these woodlands host various secrets, hidden in a large manor in its midst. Once, this manor has been the sanctuary of a large noble family of Yorkcaster, but the bloodline gradually died out, ultimately leaving the manor abandoned. The manor looks like a typical home of the rich: large and spacious, full of luxuries like silk curtains and chandeliers and French windows. It remains quite unchanged from the days of old.

Inside the manor, there is an armory with various weapons, from swords to slingshots to bows to shotguns. The manor’s occupants had used them for hunting the creatures of the forests in the days of old, but now the armory is full of cobwebs, many of its equipment rusted and damaged. However, there are still working weapons, like the intricately carved maple wood crossbow, or the bronze sword studded with amethysts.

As for the woods, they're full of strangeness too. The trees are very thick, so much so that they block out most of the sunlight. The thick undergrowth occasionally dissipates into large clearings, empty save for a few weeds. Huge bushes are filled with sweet berries and the various vermin, especially the rabbits, eat these berries. Songbirds occasionally pipe up as well, making the forest seem a lot less gloomy. However, there are many predators: bears and wolves and bobcats, all competing for prey and other means of survival. The roars of the fighting animals can sometimes be heard over the ambiance of the forest. But there are dangers even greater than that… dangers that come alive with the night.

The final and most important defining aspect of the territory is its underground labyrinth. The last remaining members of the Yorkcaster family had long forgotten about this, but their ancestors had built a labyrinth centuries ago. The purpose of this wasn't documented, but the dangers of it make it rather unlikely to be your average hedge maze. It is filled with various traps and pitfalls, mile-deep abysses, rooms filled with caged animals and poison gas. Perhaps the labyrinth was made for the thrill-seeking members of the Yorkcaster family, or perhaps it was for punishing criminals. No one knows what is down in that labyrinth today; is it safe to infer that the dangers had mostly faded away? Or do they still linger with the ghosts of the Yorkcasters, ready to lash out at all who dare enter?


Part 4: Premise

I hope you have fun with this one! It's applicable for almost all genres but it really has a horror/thriller vibe to it. This is exactly 150 words lol.

For years your character has been wracked with guilt over an action they regretted dearly. When they are offered a chance to repent for this sin, they immediately leap at it, seizing the opportunity without much thought.

But what they don’t realize is that the implications of their first condemning action are far more complicated than they had envisioned, and it would be no easy work to fix them. And what’s more, this chance they had taken is even more precarious, and many would be affected by the consequences if it fails.

Shadowy secrets that should not be spoken of have emerged. The dead and the dying is everywhere, making the character question their every action. And above all, one question looms: what does that ticking timer count down to?

Stuck in an ominous loop, unable to escape, your character must find out the answer before it is too late.


Part 5: Bringing It Together

I used Scarlet's character, Alba's setting, and Blush's premise! I tried to do my best, but I guess the quality of this piece kinda just went downhill after I started speedrunning, and in retrospect nothing made sense ^^' I mean, Everadia didn't even get mentioned until the last 500 words! I really would've liked to expand more on it, but I guess after writing so much I just got tired. But anyways, I hope you enjoy this story nonetheless. 1705 words

Glendolyn Tactie peered out of the grimy windows, built-up nervousness humming in their head. Glendolyn – or rather Strawberry, as they much preferred to be called – turned away, looking down wearily at a couple of measly little carrots in their plate. The value of the lianna, the currency of the elven world, was dwindling. Crops were failing, jobs were being lost, factories were full of malfunctioning equipment with no one to fix them, and everything seemed to be just going wrong. But no one noticed. Or rather, no one seemed to care; they thought it was just normal.

And yet Strawberry knew that something was wrong, very wrong, with the way everything was going.

They knew from history class that elfkind once had control of magic, centuries ago. It started to fade away as technological advances were made, and “the elves become more like humans every day,” their grandmother would grumble. Although Strawberry has nothing more than vague memories of what humans were from mythical stories, they knew that the humans’ penchant for technology proved to be fatal.

Shaking off these dark thoughts, they turned away from the window and stepped out on the balcony. Following the elfs’ traditional education system, the fifteen-year-old Strawberry was just released from third-tier school for the autumn break, and was now vacationing alone at their parents’ villa near the Herrlineim mountains, clearly visible from the balcony. In the mountain range is a mystical cave, allegedly still retaining some of the magic of the days of old. Strawberry had wanted to make a trip to the Cave of Soul when they arrived at the villa, and so now they have prepared a pack for the journey.

According to the ancient legends, the cave would be fullest of magic on the new moon, where the impurity of the moonlight would fade away and the spirit of the dark would emerge from its sanctuary. Strawberry wasn’t exactly sure what it meant, but they nonetheless followed the order, keeping track of the phases of the moon for the past month.

So as night fell, Strawberry hitched up their pack and hiked up the mountain trail. Though they were somewhat daunted by the darkness of the night, they were grateful for the night-vision goggles that they had purchased; it made the journey much easier and smoothed their fears. And finally, Strawberry was at the cave.

The sight of the fabled cave was completely underwhelming. It was damp and dark in here. Well, that was hardly to be unexpected, considering the environment, but Strawberry started to think that they had gone into the wrong place.

Until a whistle sounded from deeper in.

Strawberry was startled. Could this possibly be a result of the magic? Well, in any case, they decided to head in, brandishing a bottle of pepper spray. It was a measly tool for defense, but certainly better than going in empty-handed. If this is the wrong cave and there was a bear in there, Strawberry would show that their 3-foot frame would not be vulnerable.

As it turned out, there were no bears. Just a staircase, and Strawberry continued on. They briefly wondered why no one else had come to visit this place (as it seemed abandoned), but then remembered that the modern generation no longer cared about the magic. And the older elves? Perhaps something prevented them from coming; perhaps they have lost faith too.

Come to think of it, their grandmother was the only elf who really seemed to believe in the old magic. Strawberry had talked to a lot of people in their life, but it was all normal conversation – sometimes deeper ones about certain subjects, but never magic.

The staircase continued down, down, down… and abruptly stopped. In front was a pearly white film, mysteriously shimmering. Strawberry took one step, and then the next second they were no longer there. Or rather, they were now somewhere else, utterly confused about what had happened.

Strawberry was in a dark, windowless room. Thankfully, they still had their goggles on, and they could see that there was various lab equipment inside. Hmm. On the far side of the room was a door, presumably leading outside. Wherever “outside” would be. Before that option could be tested, however, someone barged into the room and turned on the lights.

He was nearly twice Strawberry’s height, scowling furiously at the moment he came in. It took him a few seconds to see the elf standing before him, and his expression promptly turned to one of horror.

“Has mutation gone this far?”

But then he examined the (equally shocked) Strawberry carefully. “Oh, you’re an elf.”

Despite their confusion, Strawberry had the energy to be aggravated by this statement. “So what? And what may you be?”

“A human. What a cultural shock, am I right?”

It was impossible to tell whether he was being sarcastic and what he meant. But the human plowed on:

“You must have come through my portal,” he deduced quickly. “Language is a bit harder to explain; maybe elves still retain the ability to adapt to the language they hear, and coupled with the fact that we used to share-”

“Where are we?” Strawberry interrupted, impatient to hear important answers from this strange scientist.

“Under the Herrlineim range, near the south.”

“Then what was the point of having a portal if it’s fifteen miles away from here?”

The scientist sighed. “For ease of access. But goodness, I didn’t know that you elves are still thriving on this planet! I thought that the toxicity of the air would’ve decimated you already, but it seems not. Our scouting trips have never seen any of you. Though these happen once in a blue moon, and for ten minutes at once… how did you find it?”

“It would have been more helpful if you hadn't put it near the setting of a legend!”

“Apologies, but the ‘Cave of Soul’ is 20 miles away from my portal,” he pointed out, frowning. “I’m the anthropologist here.”

“And I’m the elf here,” Strawberry returned, looking at him with the best picture of bored annoyance that they could conjure. “You humans have no life.”

The anthropologist merely gestured to a board of pictures at one corner of the lab. They depicted various architectural wonders, seemingly all underground, and technological wonders like the portal that brought Strawberry here. “No life, you said?”

Though they couldn’t believe that the humans were still existent, Strawberry knew that they were wasting time here. “Could you show me the way out? I have a whole world to explore.”

The anthropologist nodded reluctantly; Strawberry noted, not without satisfaction, that even though he seemed eager to learn about the elven race, he had the decency to not kidnap Strawberry.

“Before you go, I thought you might want to have this. I’ve found it while outside one day”

He handed them an old and delicate page. There was a message written on it in the old elven language (which Strawberry’s grandmother had also happened to have taught them):

There is said to be a land, different from all others, that is home to a variety of creatures. Let it be extinct, or mythical, you’ll find them all living there peacefully. The connection between these worlds has been hidden for millennia, and it's the destined one’s job to find it, to restore the original balance in our world.

Non-rhyming, non-poetic. Good. That proves its authenticity. And suddenly, out of nowhere, Strawberry realized what this message referred to. The mythical land not very far away.

“The Forests of Everadia,” the anthropologist nodded. He started the portal, and it whirred into life. Looking at him one last time, Strawberry rather wanted to take the man along; he obviously wanted to see the outside world for more than the few hours of his life that he already had. But that cannot be arranged, and Strawberry tried to convince themself they had no reason to care about this stranger.

As they left, Strawberry couldn’t help but ponder whether their life was truly more meaningful than the underground humans’.

Now with a better sense of direction in mind, Strawberry kept trekking.

At sunrise they finally reached the Forest of Everadia. So, this is the forest, Strawberry thought. The outskirts of the forest were not too different from the surrounding mountain landscape, but something intangible seemed to separate it completely.

The magic.

Well, it could be something else too. Seeing how Strawberry had already gotten a wrong location one time, this could be another mistake. Add that to the fact that the Forest of Everadia isn’t inherently magical, but rather full of magical beings. But this could just as likely be the real deal.

Perhaps here is where they’ll find the answers to the world’s problem, to solve the confounding mystery once and for all.

Strawberry stepped inside, their foot crossing the invisible boundaries, and took another step. And another. Then they were heading into the forest.

They passed trickling brooks and silvery streams, open glades and steep ravines, all kinds of trees and leaves bright with dawn light. Strawberry didn’t stop, didn’t get tired, didn’t reconsider this action. It seemed that they were destined to be here, to reach some goal in the forest.

Finally, after an indefinite amount of time journeying through the forest, Strawberry stumbled upon a small clearing. It was quite a sight. The grass was a healthy, vibrant shade of green, and this was even more obvious from the contrasting light of the noon sun. Cascading willows stood guard around a small, clear pool of pure water. It reflected, mirror-like, images of the world around. Strawberry approached the pool curiously and peered in. They didn’t realize that they have already left civilization far behind, left their whole world far behind; their mother and father and gap-toothed grinning grandmother, who provided all of her wisdom and ostensibly non-sensical rambling to Strawberry, when it has actually been leading up to this very moment.

Strawberry knew that they were not the “destined one” – but it was alright. As they embraced the forest, its secrets comes to light, and now their fate is entwined with the infinite serenity, tucked away in the corner of the forest forever.

MC Daily 3/10

I rewrote a bit of Bookie's work to fantasy! This doesn't really work ahaha, but I tried :')
607 words

Silence. And then voices filled my head.

“Are you sure the magic will work…?” a masculine voice asked, sounding eager to see an outcome to this. I can’t tell what he’s looking forward to.

“He’s going to die if they don’t, Barley,” a soft and delicate voice follows, confident but with the slightest hint of worry and weariness.

“Who cares if he dies? He’s just another elf,” a third voice scoffed.

“He’s a magical being, even if he is an elf!” The second voice protested, and the passion in her voice made me feel a little too emotional for my liking. There was a strange ring and melody to it too, as if the speaker was withholding a song from her lips. What was I hearing?

“Well then, if you’re so sure he’s worth saving, then you get to do the healing all by yourself!” Barley huffed. “Come on, Albatross. Leave Lillesand to do her own work.” A door seemed to slide open, then it closed again. Footsteps faded down a hall.

Silence fell again. I decided now would be the time to ask questions before some magical operation. But, something cold grazed my arm, and a voice whispered.

“It’ll be okay, Reire, you’ll be fine. Completely fine…”

Fine… Fine… Fine…

I awoke to a smiling face. Large, shining eyes that were a deep coffee brown, framed by raven black hair – long and silking, flowing in the soft breeze, almost radiating magic. She had plump lips, perfect teeth, and wore a green cloak over her coat.

I rubbed my head and tried sitting up. Immediately the girl shouted.

“No! Lay down! Lay down! You need to recover! Lay down!” I obliged, wondering why. She then said, “You’ll need time for the magic to sink in. Anyways, my name’s Lillesand. And you’re…” She checked a pad of paper.

“Reire. Sorry, names are hard for me to remember, so I have to have this piece of paper with me for my patients’ names so I can call all of you.” She paused and then took in a sharp, quick breath. “Sorry, sorry, enough talking about me. How are you feeling? Specifically in your right arm, left leg, and torso.”

I shrugged, shifting slightly. “I’m feeling fine. No pain anywhere.” She nodded thoughtfully and wrote something down.

Now I started to notice the room around me. The farthest corners were dark, but overhead the sun’s rays were filtered through a screen on the open roof. Desk drawers and seats were scattered all around. Dark orbs sat in the room, maybe to illuminate it when it’s night. The bed I was lying on was springy and comfortable, smelling like apples for some unknown reason.

I flexed my hand, looking at my fingers, which were now looking like they were completely healed. Weren’t they different before? Scarred, ravaged?

“That’s because they are,” Lillesand said. I looked at her with wide eyes, not acknowledging that she hadn’t answered my next questions.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” She laughed, a bright, happy sound. “Every elf, including myself, has a different power that they are allowed to use at free will, since we’re in the defense army,” she explained. “My power is mind reading. Your’s, we’re not quite sure yet, but we’ll figure it out.”

I was now feeling a little scared of her. “But, what if I don’t want to figure out what my powers are?”

She looked at me like I had just said that I liked eating slugs.

“Why would you want to not find out what your powers are? They are held in high esteem among our people.”

Sandy-Dunes wrote:

MC Daily 3/10

I rewrote a bit of Bookie's work to fantasy! This doesn't really work ahaha, but I tried :')
607 words

snip

:0000000 I love it! This is literally amazing! (Totally not shrieking in happiness)

booklover883322 wrote:

Sandy-Dunes wrote:

MC Daily 3/10

I rewrote a bit of Bookie's work to fantasy! This doesn't really work ahaha, but I tried :')
607 words

snip

:0000000 I love it! This is literally amazing! (Totally not shrieking in happiness)

Aww, thanks! I tried to find the best names for the characters and make the whole thing less sinister hehe, it was super fun!