Weekly 2, part 3 - Setting
Just past the realm of Earth, barely within the boundaries of Faerieland, lies the city of Atheradde. Part of it is at the edge of the forest, while some spills off the side of the cliff and clings to the rocks.
Atheradde is a strange mishmash of cultures, times and worlds, as while it is strictly speaking a fae city, it also has a substantial human population. Even within the human community, too, there is great variety in the knowledge and world experience. Many human children have been born here, some descended from human families who have lived here for hundreds or even thousands of years, and have mixed with the faeriefolk so much that they are practically fae themselves. Then there are the new arrivals, people who only arrived in Faerieland recently. “Recently” can mean a few years ago; it generally takes a while to get used to a world you used to think impossible.
The architecture of Atheradde reflects this strange diversity. Great, gleaming stone fae spires carved with intricate spirals stand beside medieval cottages pressed against modern human homes. Cobblestone streets run into concrete roads and polished white walkways. Even the proud towers rising above the cliff were built with a combination of fae and Tudor construction techniques. While many of the fae from other parts of Faerieland think all this and the human population make Atheradde less “pure” than other fae cities, the residents enjoy the humans and their touches, and consider the other fae snobs. Besides, they point out, while some of the humans fell into Faerieland by mistake, many were brought there by faeries due to love affairs or through changeling swaps (though such swaps are now frowned upon and have become fairly rare).
The fae are not the tiny pixies of popular Earth imagination; they are a race of human-size beings, only some winged. The silly ideas the humans of Earth have about fairies is another reason many faeriefolk disapprove of humans. Or the current humans, anyway– there was a time, only a few hundred years ago, where people respected faeries, and sometimes knew them as something not completely dissimilar from what they truly are. But now, they say, the humans have lost most of the little they knew about faeries.
Every year, the residents of Atheradde spend a week engaging in wild festivities, partying throughout the city and in the nearby woods. The streets are decked with enchanted lanterns and filled with laughing people. It is during these seven days, known as Criochlag, that the story is set. Criochlag is also the most common time for new humans to arrive in Faerieland…

daily 16 - writing taken from will stetson's translated english song cover of ‘phony’ (kafu)

It’s raining again. Not that that’s anything to comment on, it’s always raining. In the windowboxes and the bushes and the baskets, flowers bow their brown, dead heads; I watch the world go by with a certain level of antipathy. It seems there is so much to regret, too much, that I have simply stopped regretting. I’m sure that is not the moral thing to do. However, it has been where this has taken me.

I remember last night. I cried, and said bad things; I remember the look on your face, shattered and shaken, and how when I left and slammed the door I saw you dancing inside. How long it has been since I last saw you dance. Now, the sky seems to be calling to me – look, you fool, look what you have created. This dead world is for you and you alone.

That’s what my life is without you, isn’t it? Dead. It’s funny to think about, at least from this perspective (with which I can look at it with a certain level of disassociation). I think we were always just a little co-dependent. Then one of us broke that trust – who first? Or was it ever even there at all? And now there’s just us, two shells of what once was whole, so chipped at the edges that I can’t even see how we used to fit together anymore. I’d say my heart was broken, but it’s more like it’s just crumbled. It throbs inside my chest, and I ignore the ache.

Perhaps the problem is that you reached so much higher, went so much further, than me in every little way. I might have been your riddlemaster, but at least I dealt in simple concepts; you asked me questions I couldn’t begin to fathom, and with every one I answered I could see you putting together the puzzle pieces of me in your brain. But you were attracted to me, even if you were the superior – to my intelligence, to my silver tongue, to my – if I may be so bold – good heart. But a good hearted liar still lies. This time, it is you I must protect.

I know you still love me all the same. You wouldn’t dance for our love if you didn’t; I know, when I eventually sleep at night, I will hear your whispers on the breeze and your fists thudding against the inside of my heart. You’re trapped there, now. And neither of us hold the key to set you free. Somewhere here, there is a false lie, I know it – a secret truth, poisonous, deadly, which must have set foot in our lives like an arrow-backed adder among the fluffy bunnies. It’s cold and unfriendly and utterly unapologetic; oh, lies were so much easier. I hate that cold, empty truth, even though I still can’t find it.

I’m sorry to disappoint you – I can’t control the tides, shape the constellations, pull the sun down to earth so you can look into it and see that you, indeed, are the brighter star. But all those tasks, impossible as they very well might be, pale in comparison to the hardest riddle of all – I still can’t tell the truth to you. My love is a more powerful force than all those elements put together, as elemental as they are and as mortal as I am. And I can’t hurt you, not in that way.

I stand, and watch the rain wash away the pollution from this world. My glasses misting with droplets of water, the world blurs; I put down the umbrella. I might as well be washed away as well.
(612)

Weekly 2

Part 2: Character - 558 words

Name: Brylie Clair
Age: 15
Species: human

Personality and Traits: Brylie Clair is an optimistic traited girl. She often faces difficulty in trusting people but remains optimistic and hopes for the best from the people she's around. She doubts people, nonetheless, cares for them as her own. Her trust issues fall back to a dark history of hers. She's alerted and careful all the time; responsible and nonchalant. She opens up to people very rarely, but never to anyone outside family. She's an introverted being but at times pretty extroverted; particularly an ambivert. She never freely expresses her emotions to anyone, she's bent on being a strong daughter to her parents and a brave friend to her pals. She's stubbornly reckless under pressure - her personality might as well pull a whole 180 under stress. As outgoing as she is, so well is she at cloaking her own true self. She's definitely not a gullible person… in fact is quite the one who could easily deceive others if she tried. She feels demotivated most of the time but tries to ignore that side of her by spreading optimism. She's pretty smart, cheek and clever enough to outwit the witty ones. Spontaneous outbursts are pretty frequent when she's delighted, exhilarated or surprised.
Wants, Hopes, and Strengths: Brylie wishes for a world where war was never introduced and people are at peace with one another. She wants to be able to focus on herself and change for the better for the people around her. She's wants to be true to herself and not lie to herself just cause the people around her want her to. She wishes to grow confidence and build emotional strength. She wants to be stable physically, mentally, and spiritually. She wishes for a successful future so that she doesn't let the ones who believe in her down. Her strength physically is that she's well versed in one on one combat, much experienced enough to claim losses as occasional. She believes strongly in supernatural existences. Her faith and belief in God is strong and encouraging. She's always wanted to be free from any emotional chains and shackles that had bound her to her past. She wants to spread positivity without living in negativity herself. She wants someone who hears and understands her as her true self while wanting to help her. She's a beautiful girl but takes no arrogant pride in that. Peer pressure is common, she wishes to not be influenced by it.
Dislikes and Fears: She strongly despises entitled and prideful people. Dislikes hypocrites and fakes. Her fears are extreme isolation, loneliness, hatred from her loved ones. Trust issues arise from betrayal, abandonment and even such a small thing as ignorance. Facing these most of her childhood, she is bound to be wary, doubtful, and cynical of every person she acquaints herself with. She fears of judgement. She fears that people would forsake her if they see how broken and miserable she is deep down. She wants to freely be able to demolish the facade she's built up without overthinking and being cautious. She dislikes and fears her own self for being a fake, a phony by cloaking it up with something she calls “decency” and “goodness” not knowing whether that's all a part of her mask or if that truely is her.

Weekly 2

Part 3: Setting - 423 words

This story takes place in an old desolated kids' park - namely, Torence's park. This park lies facing very vivid buildings and decorative houses, what separates it is the road between. Though being in a lively neighbourhood, not many visit this park as there lies a newly built park further metres away to its right. This park remains deserted. It consists of all the accesities or things that an outdoor playground contains. Seesaw, merry-go-round, swingset, slide, jungle gym, chin-up bars, sandbox, spring rider, trapeze rings, playhouses, and mazes, etc all such things are present. Surely it contains them all but the condition they lie in is an eyesore. Broken swing set, detached seesaw, rusted slide, pretty much all of them lie in a haphazardly grubby manner. The trees, plants and naturally grown grass is all lifelessly dead. The whole park/playground lies in a pretty lousy state. It is much appalling which is the reason why not many go there. There are some who still use the abandoned park when they want some alone time or just want a place to chill in silence. Though it's a dead park, people still visit it on very rare occasions. What once was known as Torence's park, slowly lost its name and people started inevitably calling it, ‘the desolate debris’. The name probably sounds exaggerated but it doesn't lie very far from the true description. The neighbourhood consists of a huge apartment and at least five houses. Few of the houses were constructed +10 years ago and the present residents have been in the house for probably 5+ years. Two of the houses are pretty recently built, seemingly not more than a year ago.
The houses that've been recently constructed don't think much of the grimly park, but those that've been here longer know the history of its fate.
The park was a lovely, eco-friendly and enthusiastically vibrant place, filled with kids, teens, adults, even the old aged. This was a normal park. Brought much vibrancy and activity to the neighbourhood. Everything was perfectly normal until one day things began going downhill. Rumor had it that the park was cursed, no reason or explanation given. Eventually, popularity of those who still visited the park died down. Slowly bits by bits, there now remained not more that countable people who still went to the park. Lack of its maintenance caused need of repairs, and when nobody bothered, it started affecting the park until it gradually became nothing more than old remains of broken pieces.

AaAaAaAaA I did the weekly last minute +4500 points to Hi-Fi! #HIFIFTW


SWC - MARCH 2022

WEEKLY #2

PART #1:



WestEndLover15
The wind blew, harder than ever. The trees swayed, bending further than anyone in this town had ever seen.

-WildClan-
People stayed inside their houses, hearing the wind howl and roar outside. Was this a hurricane? What was causing the unnaturally strong wind? Although safe indoors for now, a sense of dread crept through the town.

WestEndLover15
When this storm had started, everyone thought that it would be over in a matter of minutes. Surely something this harsh would blow over - but no. It had been hours. The hours grew into days. The damage outside seemed irreparable.

-WildClan-
Branches had been snapped off from trees, fences had blown over, and anyone who went outside risked being swept off their feet if there was a particularly strong gust of wind. No one dared to make the journey out of town to escape the wind. They could barely even get down the street. There was no way they could live like this for much longer. Eventually everyone would run out of supplies. But how to stop the wind? Surely nature's power could not be halted by any mere human.

WestEndLover15
The sense of fear smothered the town. Those most confident in the storm ending felt their belief drain away. There was no way to communicate, since there was nobody to post letters, and the towns normal way of communicating - carrier ravens, owls, even pigeons - couldn’t fly two minutes without being swept off of their feet. Family was all people could rely on, but slowly fights broke out. People hadn’t seen anyone but their parents and siblings … nobody could tell what was going to happen next.

-WildClan-
In one house, a girl peers out through a crack in a boarded-up window. Debris was flying everywhere, tumbling and whipping through the air. The girl sighs. /This wind must have a cause,/ she thinks. /If we knew why it started, maybe we could figure out how to stop it. Wind normally is caused by air flowing from areas with high pressure to low pressure, right? But this one is different. Why?/ She sits down to think, frustrated.

WestEndLover15
She remembers the day before the wind started. She’d been a normal girl. She’d had a normal life. Before she knew it, her face was wet. “Hey Isa!” her brother shouts. “You’re not trying to think up another plan, are you? You know, girls like you don’t need to worry about it. Leave it to us men.” he laughs, an retreats back to the kitchen.

-WildClan-
She feels a flash of anger, but says nothing. /As if the men are doing anything about this. As if they even could. But no. I'll just be stuck in here with my idiot brother forever./ Isa stands up. /How much longer can I take this?/


WestEndLover15
She sits down at the table again, but no ideas come to her mind. From the crack in the window, she can see that the huge oak tree near her house. A tree that’s been around for hundreds of years, gone. Like everything else destroyed by the storm. Her face is wet again. /Before the storm, I never cried./ she sighs. And then she remembers. /That one time, when Ma - …/ she trails of, lost in her memories.


-WildClan-
Her mother had just disappeared one day. Like the tree, everything had seemed normal but then, all of a sudden… gone. Isa had been 9 at the time. She had wanted to help search, but was told she was too young. That was the only time she could ever remember crying. But it wasn't because of her Ma's disappearance, or even when her father returned time and time again with no sign of her. It was because of the feeling of helplessness, of not being able to do anything.


WestEndLover15
That was why she’d been so determined to help with the storm - to erase that feeling. But maybe her brother was right maybe she /couldn’t/ do anything. Not because she was a girl, but because she was Isa. She curled into a ball, and leaned against the battered wall. She braced herself for more tears, but none came. It was like they had been sucked out of her.


-WildClan-
Isa closed her eyes, ready to give up. If no one else could do anything, then she certainly couldn't. She wasn't strong enough to do anything useful. She was only smart enough to realize that she couldn't achieve anything great. Why should she even bother thinking about it? The only thing she had was… wait… what if…


WestEndLover15
It probably wouldn’t work, but still … she sprinted to her room, faster than the wind that was destroying her world. Where was it? She threw aside clothes, bedsheets, anything that might be covering it. Wait. Strewn across the bed was a glimmer of silver. Yes. This was it. Her mother’s amulet.


-WildClan-
Her hands shaking, Isa put the chain around her neck. The amulet glittered against her skin, cold and strange, making her shiver. What was it that her mother had said about the amulet when it was given to her? It had been passed down through the generations, waiting for the right person to be able to handle its power. /There's no way that that person could be me,/ Isa thought. /But maybe in this desperate situation, the amulet could make an exception…?/ She rubbed the shimmering stone.


WestEndLover15
Nothing happened. Isa sighed. She’d known this would happen, but still … if this was a story, she’d have made it work. She took off the amulet, hands shaking yet again, and placed it back on the bed. She’d have to find another way to save her town. She trudged back downstairs, every step like she had weights attached to her feet. Once downstairs, she closed her eyes. She counted to ten, praying that this was all a dream, and opened them … a faint light was coming from her bedroom.


-WildClan-
Racing back up the stairs, she burst through her bedroom door and froze in shock. The amulet was glowing, hovering slightly above the bed where she had left it. Swirling tendrils of air circled around it. Isa slowly closed the door behind her and approached the amulet hesitantly. It had worked. It had chosen HER. Suddenly, Isa was terrified. There was no turning back now.


WestEndLover15
She’d read about adventures like this in books, but - how could she explain it? They’d always seemed less terrifying. Her heart thundered. This was it. /Everyone/ was counting on her. Her town was small, but it still contained hundreds of people. If she failed … she didn’t even want to think about the consequences. Taking a deep breath, she settled her concentration onto the amulet. First of all - how did she use it?


-WildClan-
She grasped the amulet. Her hand was sweating. She wished her mother was here to show her how to do this- /No. Don't think about that. Just focus./ She fixed all of her attention on the amulet and felt it grow warmer. The glow grew brighter, shining between her clenched fingers. The power pulsed through her, as it was becoming part of her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, raising her other hand slowly outward.


WestEndLover15
I think it’s my go: Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation running through her body. It was like a river of lava was flowing through her arteries. Her body shook with pain - it felt like she was being burned to a crisp, but there was no mark on her body. She gasped, and dropped the amulet to the floor. It landed, and shattered into a million pieces.


-WildClan-
No. NO. She couldn't have messed this up ALREADY, could she? Panicked, she tried to sweep the amulet pieces back together, only to notice that they had fallen in an odd pattern. Instead of being scattered randomly, they outlined a specific area on her bedroom floor. She felt around the edges of that area, and touched a small crack, too thin to be noticeable otherwise. A secret door? But there was no handle…


WestEndLover15
She edged nearer to it, her eyes cautiously eyeing the sharp fragments. Too late, she realised she’d put her foot on the door - she screamed, flailing wildly, trying to grab on to something but air, as she fell down, down, down, into nothing. /It was a trapdoor all along./ Why hadn’t she realised that?


-WildClan-
/And why haven't I fallen through it before? Did the amulet shards somehow unlock it? Was the amulet MEANT to be broken? Maybe I didn't mess up yet, after all…/ Isa kept falling, farther than it seemed it should have been possible to fall. Or was she even falling anymore? Everything was just dark now, an endless black. She could no longer see the blotch of light shining down through the open trapdoor, could no longer hear the howls of the wind.


WestEndLover15
But after an hour of falling, she felt, for the first time in what seemed like years, oddly … calm. Since the wind - no, since ma, she had always felt panicked. But right now, she could tell that she was meant to be doing this. Out of the blue, she felt her feet touch the floor. And that was when she saw a ring of dark black fire surrounding her.


-WildClan-
She turned slowly, taking in her new surroundings. The fire barely put out any light, but it was enough to show her that there was some sort of roof above her. A cave? How far had she fallen, anyway? Was this the center of the Earth? She tried looking beyond the ring of flames, but was unable to see anything, so she instead studied the fire itself. It didn't seem to put off any heat. She leaned closer. “You probably shouldn't touch that,” someone said from behind her.


WestEndLover15
She jumped. “It’s highly poisonous. One touch and and you’ll be dead.” Behind her was a tall, lean girl with two different-coloured eyes and an eyepatch embedded with something she couldn’t quite see. She seemed … strangely familiar. The girl grinned. “Octavia Crowfoot of the S.N.O.A. Pleased to meet you.”


-WildClan-
“Have… have we met?” Isa asked hesitantly. Octavia seemed to consider her words for a moment. “We keep an eye on all the families that guard the amulets, yes. I've known about you since you were born.” Isa opened her mouth to ask another question, but Octavia didn't give her a chance. “Anyway, follow me. I'll introduce you to the others.” Isa was unsure, but where else was she going to go? She followed Octavia into the darkness.

WestEndLover15
On and on. It seemed like they had been walking for hours. Isa’s eyelids grew heavy, and her feet started to ache. Octavia was talking, but none of it registered in her brain. What was going on? She needed to know, or that sense of helplessness would creep in again. As Octavia rambled on and on, she mulled the possibilities in her head. /Is this all a trap?/ Finally, they stopped. Before them was a gargantuan building, lit by flaming torches. Octavia smiled. “Welcome.”


-WildClan-
“What- what is this place?” Isa asked, staring up at the building in awe. “Haven't you been listening?” Octavia replied. “This is our headquarters. You'll be staying here until you've finished your training.” “Training? But- I can't stay- My town, the wind- There's no time-” Octavia waved her hand dismissively. “Don't worry about that. No time passes in the Outer World while you're in here.” “Outer World?” “Well, sure. You fell through the portal, didn't you? Now you're here.”

WestEndLover15
“But - how? How does the … Inner World-” Octavia smiled. “You’re picking up quick! But anyways. You don’t need to ask any questions. All in good time, my dear.”

-WildClan-
“O-okay…” Isa said, cautiously following Octavia as she entered the building. The front door opened into a long hallway with many doors along both sides. More torches lit the interior, casting flickering shadows on every wall. Isa could hear sounds of voices coming from behind some of the doors, but Octavia moved too quickly for Isa to listen. Hurrying to keep up, Isa was relieved when Octavia finally stopped in front of a door with a sparrow carved into it.


PART #2:

NAME: Sage Johansson
AGE: 13, nearly 14
SPECIES: Human

PERSONALITY & TRAITS:

Sage is a very catastrophic thinker. She is constantly worrying that something terrible is going to happen, such as an earthquake or tsunami. Her paranoia can often alienate people. However, she is very kind, and will do anything for anybody, even if they’ve mistreated her. She is always willing to help anybody, whether it’s with homework, giving them advice or just being friendly in general. Sometimes this can be annoying, as she wants to ‘act the hero’ and doesn’t realise that she goes overboard. Sage thinks that if she just keeps on pushing, everyone will adore her - she just doesn’t know where and when to stop. Despite this, due to her relentless kindness and high intelligence, (most - I don’t know what situation she’ll be put in) adults like her. The one thing that everyone dislikes about her, though, is that she literally can't keep anything to herself. Not thoughts, worries - fears in particular - questions or even secrets. She blabs about anything to anyone who will listen. Her outspokenness is the main thing that puts people off of her. In general - yes, we’re going in to Hogwarts houses > - I’d say she’s a Ravenclaw, due to her intelligence, quick with, the way she overthinks things, and her outspokenness.

WANTS, HOPES AND STRENGTHS:

There are only really two things Sage wants in life:

To have friends. As mentioned in Dislikes and Fears, she is terrified of being alone. Therefore she wants people to like her. Seeing friends giggling and laughing fills her with an incredibly strong sense of want and longing. She also thinks that friendship will give her more stability in life, which leads on to want no. 2.
To have a stable, predictable life. Since she fears chance, planning ahead of time and knowing what will happen is the only thing that can really soothe it. Knowing what will happen also makes her appear more confident, which is something that she really craves. As for strengths, she is amazingly quick witted and resourceful. This means that her fear of change is slightly irrational, since she can get herself out of almost any sticky situation. Another strength - she has a (not quite photographic, but close enough) amazing memory. She can recall events from years ago in the blink of an eye, and can read visual things like maps better than words. This leads to a love of art - which she is absolutely brilliant at. It also means that she’s very quick - and accurate - at non-verbal reasoning. For example, she’s never played chess, but if she had, she would’ve won almost every game.

DISLIKES & FEARS:

Despite her name, Sage actually hates nature, due to her fear of bugs. She has severe arachnophobia, and is just terrified of creepy crawlies in general - nobody knows why. She also hates loud noises and change. Things that come around unexpectedly (such as loud noises and change) are what scare her the most in life. She prefers knowing what’s around the bend, and planning everything ahead of time. Because of all of these fears, people often find her hard to interact with and naïve. This leads to another fear - being alone. She tries very hard to please people, but sometimes that just makes her seem strange.

PART #3:

DRUID GROVE:

NOTE:
Throughout this, I have a few suggestions for what you might want to do with this setting. By no means do you need to follow them.

The story is set in a small settlement known to its inhabitants as ‘Druid Grove’. To others, it’s simply ‘The place you wouldn’t want to go’. It is surrounded by a ring of trees and fire to keep away trespassers, and also a dark, murky forest is to the side. But the fire has more than one use - it is used by the Druids (also known as Elders). They believe that the fire gives them connection with the spirits of nature and elements; the way it keeps out trespassers is mostly just a bonus.
The Elders of Druid Grove are a series of high-ranking elders in the town - or one might even call it a hamlet. They control the town, and have ultimate power over everything. They all must be male (you might want to dive deeper into this for your story: the Druid Grove is a very sexist society, so you might want a rebellious girl/woman as your protagonist), as the inhabitants believe that women are ‘weak’ and ‘useless’ - particularly the Druids. Druids have to go through years of rigorous training, and then take a test to ensure that they are trustworthy. Those who fail are Banished to the forest to the right. Banishment is the ultimate punishment, only for the worst. Only fifteen people in the history of Druid Grove have ever been Banished (perhaps you might want to experiment with this?) - after all, there aren’t many willing to go through the arduous process of becoming an Elder, and Elders live incredibly long lives, so they don’t need new Elders often.

Apart from the Druids/Elders, there is one other special thing about the grove. Unless you know every rule, the exact location, and everything about it, it is impossible to reach Druid Grove. They do this because nobody can ever leave - the people of the grove (particularly the Druids) need to know they will dedicate their life to improving the grove. However, if they are worried that Druid Grove needs more workers or just inhabitants in general, they may open the barrier and force people in.

I hope if you use Druid Grove, you’ll enjoy writing and earn more points, no matter what cabin you’re in! <3

PART #4:

PREMISE

You wake up, and you are trapped somewhere (I can’t say where, because this would be your setting). You don’t know where, you don’t know how, you don’t know why. All you know is that there’s no way out.

Or is there?

Somebody comes over to you, and offers to help. They explain why you are here - apparently you have committed treason against the autocratic and all-powerful ruler/king of your setting - someone you

a) didn’t know existed, and
b) have never met, nor said anything against.

Now that you hear of how evil this ruler is, you feel it is your ‘duty’ - perhaps your character is a very ‘be the hero’ kind of person - to rebel against them. But of course, no one will join you, because they are all so scared of being banished, or killed for their treason. At last, one person helps you, but you still need to rally the others, along with not being killed.

What do you do?


PART #5:



/“Arden. It’s time.”
“For what?”
“Our great great great great great grandfather was the founder of Midnight Grove. It is time for you to learn his secrets,”
“Oh.”

Silence.

“Sh-shouldn’t Iona be here? I thought you said it was tradition to tell two children the secrets at a time, so they didn’t die out. Didn’t you?
“Iona? That was … that was before she destroyed our family’s reputation, with those … what did she call them? Implants? Of course we can’t trust her with the entire Grove’s secrets, silly boy!”
“Y-yes, of course, mother.”/

I tune out. I suppose I have always known this was going to happen. Ever since I modified myself, she doesn’t trust me. She never trusted me before, but those implants have made it worse. It doesn’t make sense … I changed myself for her.

I clench my fists. I knew I should never have done anything for her.

I finger the locket at my neck - even my implants can’t get rid of that nervous habit. It’s helped me cope ever since Mother started hating me. I saw it lying on my bed one day - I don’t know who gave it to me, or how it got there, but … it’s like a friend to me.

/NO, Iona. Stop getting too attached. It’ll just give you another weakness, something you can’t cybernetically modify./ I shake my head. How did I let myself lose control like that? And besides, I still don’t know what’s inside it. It could be something dangerous - I’ve tried opening it hundreds of times, but the locket just won’t unclench.

Arden strolls into the kitchen nervously.
“H-hello Iona. Did you - by any chance - h-hear that?” He eyes my hearing aid warily, like he’s scared it will bite him. I grit my teeth.
“Get out.”
“Why?”
“GET OUT, YOU IDIOT!”

Arden pauses. His face turns red.

“You’re the one with the strange amplonts anyways! And you have that utterly ridiculous-looking locket!” He lashes out, and slams the door. I look at the floor stormily. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh on him, but he doesn’t understand me. Nobody in the Midnight Grove does. Everyone hates each other here. Nobody here knows anything about the future, or technology, or anything that I care about! And - and - and I can’t even leave this place: the battlements around the Grove make it impossible to escape …

I look at the necklace around my neck, Arden’s words replaying in my mind.

/That ridiculous-looking locket.
That ridiculous-looking locket.
That ridiculous-looking locket./

I don’t normally care what others think … but this time it stings. The anger churns in my chest. Hands trembling, I undo the locket, and throw it to the floor. With that, I storm out.

Slamming the front door behind me, I trudge outside, leaving our brick cabin for the first time in weeks. I forgot to bring out my jacket, but I don’t mind the constant rainfall. I head to the only ‘green’ area in the Grove.

It’s a long way to the park. As I walk past the never ending line of cabins, I see people staring gruffly out of their windows. Nobody likes me here. They’re too scared of my so-called ‘new-spangled modernness’. The dusty path is soon sodden with rain, but at least it makes the clouds of dust go away. Just five more cabins to go …

Here I am. The only place in all of Midnight Grove where I can be myself, by myself. The park isn’t really a luscious land of verdance and freshness, but at least it’s not crowded with people.

/Deep breath in, and out./

Breathing in the (slightly stale) air, I notice something on the ground. It’s a … key on a chain? - to what, I don’t know. It surprises me that anyone in the Grove would ever leave their keys behind - everyone here is so paranoid. I bend down to inspect it. The grooves around the edges are strangely carved, or maybe that’s just my imagination. And … are those symbols carved into it? They’re small, but still there.

Wait.

It’s on /exactly/ the same chain as the locket. I could tell anywhere - the same intertwining strings, the same faded blue colour - but - what does this mean?

I know what it means.

I need to go back home

I grab the key, and leave the Park. This time, instead of trudging, I sprint back home. I’m back in the cabin in a matter of minutes. /Okay. Where did I leave it? In the kitchen, on the floor./ I get down on my hands and knees, and start searching for it. It won’t be that hard to find - the floor is bare, and polished with a capital P. But … it doesn’t look like it’s here.

“No, no no nononono …” I mutter under my breath.

I know who’s taken it.

I thunder to my brother’s room.

“ARDEN! HOW COULD YOU?”
“I - I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
“But you still did.” I reply stonily.
“I’m sorry! It’s just - mother - and - I - I just - I always have to be the - p-perfect child, and - and I …” he trails off. “I just wanted a sense of freedom.”
“Oh.” I say, my voice softening.
“Here you go.” he hands it over.

I breathe in, breathe out.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I twist the key into a keyhole in the locket I hadn’t noticed before.

“It fits,” I breathed. My fingers fiddle with the locket, until I can open it. Inside is a letter.

/Dearest Iona,

I know you think I hate you. You think I think of you as a burden, an anomaly. But … the truth is I love you. More than you can know. I won’t tell you the secrets of the Grove when the time comes, because the people of Midnight Grove are sure to think that I trust you. I know that sounds terrible - I DO trust you - but they don’t. And if they think I do, then our whole life will be destroyed. Besides, I know you will hear it anyway with your implants. Just know that I love you so, SO much. That will never change.

Lots, lots and lots of love,

Mother

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

EeEeEeK that was cringey xD.

WORD TOTAL: 3101

Weekly 2

Part 4: Premise - 291 words

When your main character returns home after a tiring day at school, they straight up rush to their room and crash on their bed; head buried in the softness of the pillow, couldn't care less about getting their shoes off. They peacefully lay there trying to catch on some shuteye. Wasn't long before they found themself deeply asleep in a sound manner. Suddenly there was a loud thud, that sent the whole neighbourhood shaking. The character awoke at once and was extremely astonished once they noticed what they saw. They were in an old grubby room, having no shoes on. On seeing the floor, they realized there was no bed of any sort. They looked here and there to see their room built from shabby wood; unpainted. While still trying to comprehend the bizarreness of this situation, they started hearing mysterious, sinistering voices that sent ominous shivers down their spine. They closed their eyes to take a deep breath, and much courageously began to open their eyes. At once the character opened their eyes only to be welcomed with an ugly giant faced vicious, blackened body, slimy textured creature, with its mouth wide opened visibly revealing its sharp, venomous fangs that seemed to be hungry from not having eaten anything in awhile. Your character begins sweating and panicking, feeling hopeless and now only preparing for the pain yet to come, they wait and close their eyes. Not long after, they abruptly open their eyes notice they're lying on their bed, head buried in the pillow. Their room was back to normal, walls painted, well maintained. Feeling relieved that it was all a dream, they closed their eyes to rest. When suddenly, a horrendous realization strikes, they notice their shoes aren't on.

♞ 16th of March - In Daily ♞
304 words

Dear Journal,

It's been a long time since I last wrote here. It's been a long few years, too. Things are getting hard, here. Ever since our great leader and his wife died, the triplets, the children, have been trying to lead us together. But there are tensions growing, I can feel it. They fight at night, when they think the rest of the village is asleep. They yell at each other and lately, the things they argue about are just becoming more and more trivial. The others know this too, by now, I assume. They've started taking sides as well. At this point, it's as if the village is split into three different factions. We're simply not… one anymore. I want to help, but I'm just a lowly seamstress. What am I to do?

Sometimes I remember the time when everything was so much simpler. When our leader was still here, and when he and his wife led us with kindness and mercy, and when the triplets were truly together, and happy at that. They were so young, back then. It seems like time's just passed by, and now they're older, and the village is cracking and tearing at the seams.

None of us can take it anymore. The village- it's at its lowest point, and the end of its road. All this calamity… can we possibly survive? Will we make it out whole? I've lived here all my life. If the village were to split up, what would I do? Where would I go? The Warrior is paranoid, now. Even more so than before. The Adventurer isn't happy. The Protector is desperate.

There's a riot outside. The other villagers, and the triplets, in their nightclothes. It's another fight. Bigger than ever, this time.

I fear the worst for the village.

~Shadows~
My SWC Original Piece Writing Contest Entre
Tw: Contains dark themes, bits of blood, and mentions of death. Read at your own risk
Enjoy :D

—————
Word Count: 1,440

Thanks for Reading||Back to contents

♞ 16th of March ♞
623 words

Lyrics:
There's still cobwebs in the corners
And the backyard's full of bones

- Curses, by The Crane Wives

Translated (English-Arabic-Welsh-Spanish-Javanese-Norwegian-English) result:
“In the corners there were still cobwebs
And the background is full of bones”

Ryan picked his way through the wreckage the Para-Sector had caused. It may have been years since the war had happened, but the leftovers still remained. The world lay in ashes over the pursuit of the thousands of supernatural people living all over the globe, led by none other than them. The Para-Sector.

He sighed, stepping over a large piece of machinery; from a battle tank, perhaps, or maybe armour or a weapon. For the first few years, bodies had littered the ground. Hundreds of them - whether they be the bodies of supernaturals or Para-Sector soldiers. Remnants of the equipment and weapons used in the war had been left lying, many too scared to touch them. Now, the ground was covered with bones and decaying bodies. The air was rank with the smell of it.

He hadn't fought in it.

The elders of Town had ushered Ryan and the younger humans and supernaturals out. They'd whispered warnings, an blessings, and wishes in their ears, though barely any of those came true.
“Run,” they'd said to them that day, just as dawn began. “Run, hide, protect each other. Stay safe. Make sure no one is harmed,”
They'd all been too young to know just how fruitless of an endeavour that was. Sure, they had managed for a while. Protecting and covering for each other.

Then, from months of close proximity with nothing and no one else, relationships had become tense, and some suffered from the lack of something they needed. Food began to have to be rationed. The wilderness was no place for a large, unorganised group of kids, even if some were supernaturals, or were extremely talented.

By the time the Para-Sector–Supernatural war and news of it reached their hiding area, everyone was practically split into several different factions, all at odds with each other and only tolerating for the sake of survival. But the moment the war came, every single person, every single supernatural, every single human, knew they'd have to work together to protect everything they'd tried to save for the last year.

To their mistaken beliefs, panic would not help mend the cracks that had formed over the time they spent in hiding, and would not help them relarn how to work together. They were off-beat, scattered, unprepared. Still, they fought til their dying breath. Except for him. Except for Ryan.

Except for Ryan, who had been in the right place at the wrong time, who had been outside of the ring of mountains heading to a nearby settlement to trade for food, who had been forced to come back and see everything burnt to the ground.

Even now, as he made his way through the place where a hundred or so victims of the war had hunkered down together for refugee, all of them so, so young, he could still taste the bite of ash on his tongue and smoke filling his lungs, and the thump of many bags of food hitting the grass, and see the grey snaking up from carefully crafted huts and tents.

Ryan stopped. In front of him was where he and his friends had stayed, once. Where they had tried to cope, and ignore the mess of the outside world, tried to handle being some of the last supernaturals and supernaturals' allies left on earth. Now, though, it was just a burnt half-building, with so many precious possessions broken on and under the rubble. Cobwebs hung from every nook, every cranny, strung low and wide, covering all these surfaces that had witnessed wonderful memories being made.

Ryan stepped over an anthill. He wiped a stray tear from his eye.
“I miss you guys,” he whispered, sending the words onto the winds of the past.

Weekly 2 – March 2022
Collaboration weekly!
Total: 2490 words

//
Part 1
Collaboration Story with @Fantastical_Words
I wrote 308 words.

My words: (easy to copy & paste to check word count for adding lol)
308 words
Willow was strolling along by the river on her usual walk this day, enjoying the dandelions budding on the side of the path, the wind blowing in her hair, when she spotted something peculiar. A coat-hanger was sitting on the riverbed, right next to a yellow frog.
The frog seemed to stare at Willow, tilting its head to the side, seeming be judging her. She can’t help but laugh at this absurd thought, although quietly so as not to alarm the animal. Slowly, she creeps away from the frog and the coat hanger, before turning around back to the house to quickly fetch her paints, praying the scene will still be there when she gets back in a few minutes.
, and she began to brush them on the canvas in swirling motions up above. She then moved onto the landscape below, beginning to paint the river flowing below with the trees leaning over the water. At first, she tried to paint the ripples in the water immediately, before soon realising that she was definitely going to need a second layer if she wanted this to look even semi-realistic. Moving on from the background, she brought her attention back to the coat hanger and frog at hand, preparing the necessary greens and yellows and her palette in order to capture the overgrown moss and the vivid dandelion colour of the frog’s skin. But to her surprise, when her eyes met the rock, there was not just one frog and coat hanger… but two! Puzzled, she tried to think back to earlier, sure that there was only one of each visible. Eventually coming to the conclusion that she must have been mistaken, Willow dips her paintbrush in the yellow to begin on the frog. But when she looks back up again… there are three coat hangers, and three frogs.

Thread:
Them: The open minded young artist, Willow Anderson, was always looking for opportunities to create unique and charming paintings. On this particular day in early spring, she found the perfect inspiration for one of her artworks.

Me: Willow was strolling along by the river on her usual walk this day, enjoying the dandelions budding on the side of the path, the wind blowing in her hair, when she spotted something peculiar. A coat-hanger was sitting on the riverbed, right next to a yellow frog.

Them: The bright canary yellow stood out against the dark greens and blues of the riverbank, while the coat hanger, coated in moss, soaked and dripping, was stuck in the ground at a upwards angle, sheltering the little frog, as if leaning over it. If the odd duo was looked at from a certain angle, the coat hanger framed the brightly colourd frog perfectly, a flawless design for a painting.

Me: The frog seemed to stare at Willow, tilting its head to the side, seeming be judging her. She can’t help but laugh at this absurd thought, although quietly so as not to alarm the animal. Slowly, she creeps away from the frog and the coat hanger, before turning around back to the house to quickly fetch her paints, praying the scene will still be there when she gets back in a few minutes.

Them: She spent a few minutes finding the right brushes, the perfect sized canvas, and, very quietly, so as not to disturb the frog, once again knelt down in front of the scene, this time with her paints and other equipment. Thankfully, everthing was still perfectly in place, the yellow frog had hardly moved. Willow was experienced at setting up her equipemt at short notice, as she liked to never plan what she was going to paint, and got to work very quickly. Her paints were bright and vivid colours,

Me: , and she began to brush them on the canvas in swirling motions up above. She then moved onto the landscape below, beginning to paint the river flowing below with the trees leaning over the water. At first, she tried to paint the ripples in the water immediately, before soon realising that she was definitely going to need a second layer if she wanted this to look even semi-realistic. Moving on from the background, she brought her attention back to the coat hanger and frog at hand, preparing the necessary greens and yellows and her palette in order to capture the overgrown moss and the vivid dandelion colour of the frog’s skin. But to her surprise, when her eyes met the rock, there was not just one frog and coat hanger… but two! Puzzled, she tried to think back to earlier, sure that there was only one of each visible. Eventually coming to the conclusion that she must have been mistaken, Willow dips her paintbrush in the yellow to begin on the frog. But when she looks back up again… there are three coat hangers, and three frogs.


//
Part 2
Character
Total: 578 words

Name: “Princess” Alice
Age: 22
Species: Ghost

Personality & Traits: 218 words
“Princess” Alice, as most people know her, is a very bright and optimistic person. She tries to see the best in every situation, and when she can’t, she’s always the one to try and improve it. She also always tries to see the best in people, looking past their flaws and into their good qualities. However, if she finds a person with too many bad qualities, she won’t hesitate to leave them for good. Too many bad scenarios from the past have taught Alice that it isn’t worth sticking around people who only spend their time hurting others.

Alice is extremely brave. She is confident in herself, although it took her a long time to get there. She stands up in all kinds of situations, fighting for what she has learned to be right.

If Alice took the MBTI personality test, she would most likely get the result of ENFP-A. Extraverted and always happy to communicate with people, she follows intuition when interacting with others. Although utilising both a combination of “Thinking” and “Feeling”, Alice does tend to lean more towards the “Feeling” side in life. Although she works efficiently, she would still be considered a “Prospecting” type as she is still quite prone to dreaming despite being driven. Confident and secure in herself, she is definitely “Assertive.”


Wants, Hopes and Strengths: 215 words
Alice wants nothing more in life to improve the world around her. She knows this sounds cringey to others, but it’s honestly true. Having seen so many bad things, Alice just loves to fix everything wrong with society. And she’s great at it, too – her optimism and positivity always succeed in shining a light on others, and her bravery in standing up for everyone gets her far in the world. But this can also be her downfall at times.

Besides improving the world around her, Alice is also keen to work on herself. She hopes that she will always continue to be herself despite it all. She is great at breaking conventional standards and simply doing whatever she wants to do. She values freedom almost more than anything, and is constantly trying to seek it, hoping that one day, everyone will be able to find it too.

In the past, all Alice wanted was to succeed in being what everyone else wanted her to be. She was a huge people-pleaser and follower of rules and standards, but is completely the opposite now. Although she still tries to please others around her, she is great at being careful not to do so at her own expense if unnecessary; she hates letting herself get taken advantage of.


Dislikes and Fears: 145 words
Alice is very opposed to anyone or anything that tries to control anyone else, especially her. She hates authority and being told what to do. Although she does try to see the best in everyone, she struggles to like and interact with those who can come across as pushy, bossy, or demanding. Protective of those around her, she also hates anyone who tries to control or just directly hurt the ones she loves, and even the ones she just knows.

Alice is a fairly fearless person, but she does have one deep-rooted fear, and that is reverting back to the old person she once was. She hates her past self, where she was meek and passive and let people tread all over her. Her biggest fear is going back to being that way, and she takes a lot of care to ensure that doesn’t happen.


//
Part 3
Setting
Total: 430 words

The Ala Desert is a very unique place, with an abundance of different species of cacti dotting the landscape, covering soaring sand dunes that slope down to the hundreds of rivers below. That’s what makes this place so unique – unlike other deserts which are extremely arid and dry, the Ala Desert is covered in water. Braided rivers run through the entire landscape, branching off into tiny streams which are home to thousands of different “Marine-Desert” species. The combination of a marine and desert environment has resulted in the development of many interesting species, with creatures found in this place not found anywhere else in the world.

The rivers throughout the desert run down from the mountains, gushing from such heights that they never stop flowing to the desert, even in the driest months. Despite its rapid flowing pace up in the mountains, by the time the river reaches the Ala Desert, it’s calm and the flow is only slight, picking up when the wind is heavy. The river and all it’s off-branches are enveloped by high-rise sand dunes that sweep down on angle to the water below. Cacti and a variety of shrubs tend to grow at the riverbank, soaking up the only water they can get in the landscape, as rain is extremely rare in these parts.

Those who live in the Ala Desert must learn to be very adaptable. The harsh environment of the desert puts a test to everyone who lives there. Most who live in this area build their homes right by the riverside, as the water and plants there provide the only resources that are even somewhat accessible to use throughout the day. The problem is, the constant wind and even the flow of the river are continually changing the landscape throughout the day, so much so that the river can be flowing in an entirely different place by the next day than it was at the previous. Because of this fact, most who live in the landscape must build their houses out of mobile materials in the early morning before beginning their day, then “unpacking” their homes and moving them away from the river to stay safe from erosion during the night. They then must wake up early in the morning to move their homes again. The homes here are quite unusual due to their required mobility. A variety of materials are used, mainly cactus stalks and damp sand and mud that can be easily transported throughout the day, with simply gaps for windows, the houses looking like they come from another world.


//
Part 4
Premise
Total: 160 words

Your character is having a very normal day that they would usually have, when unexpectedly, they stumble across their old childhood diary. Expecting to find a series of cute little stories about old childhood friends, maybe a few, passionate, dramatic entries written when they were angry at their parents once or twice, your character is shocked to find something else entirely. None of the stories they thought would be there can be found within the pages. In fact, most of the stories written don’t match up with what your character remembers about their childhood at all. These stories, in the handwriting of your character’s younger self, recount things that they don’t ever remember happening. Some of the recounts are worrying, and your character is puzzled and rather distressed at their findings. Feeling confused and lied to about the past, your character must set out to discover the truth about what actually happened, and why they remember things so differently.


//
Part 5
Story
Total: 1014 words

@AnnaHannah ’s character: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/584038/?page=1#post-6118600
@whiiskers ‘s setting: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=2#post-6067108
@IvyCreations ‘s premise: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/586550/?page=3#post-6117507

Story:
Most people know how much I love running. I am the embodiment of the lyrics “she’s a runner, she’s a track star!” Because I am – if I’m not wearing jeans and a t-shirt, I’m wearing my Nike trainers and Adidas shirt. Yep, so cliche. They’re good quality, though, so I’m not complaining. And they’ve never given me any trouble while running, in fact, I think my shoes, despite their simplicity compared to the other runner’s ones, make me go faster.

I honestly don’t have that many more hobbies other than track, and quite frankly, my mother hates that. “You’ve got to be varied!” she always says. I mock her tone of voice in my head. “You’ve got to be more things! You can’t just spend your time always doing the same thing! Find some variety!” Blah blah blah, you know the drill.

In order to make me more “varied”, my mother loves to force me to try out new hobbies all the time. Her current obsession is with making me a “reader”. Apparently I used to really love reading when I was younger, not that I ever remember loving it. Regardless, my mum is constantly forcing books on me lately, and I usually just shut up and read them to keep her happy.

So far I’ve liked none of the books she’s given to me, except for one single story. It’s a series, or should I say, it’s going to be. Only the first novel is out so far, but it’s planned to be a trilogy. It’s so irritating that the only story I like out everything had to be the one that isn’t finished yet.

Anyway, the book is set in this gorgeous forest, the main character being a young girl from a farming family living nearby. She spends her time taking walks in the forest, enjoying the beautiful landscape. The world is set in a sort of parallel universe to our one, with Earth existing mostly the same as it is here, but with a few major differences.

One of these differences is that there is a series of floating islands joined by golden bridges covering the sky. They span across this particular forest the girl likes to walk in; and she always wonders what’s up there, but no human seems to know. It’s almost impossible to get to the islands, except for once a year, when a new golden bridge is formed just for a day, sweeping down to the Earth and allowing someone to cross it to the islands. But it’s rare for the people that visit to return, and of the few that do… none of them remember what happened up in the sky.

Because of this mysterious and worrying fact, people tend to steer clear from the bridge when it forms once a year. But Maya’s curiosity gets the better of her one year, and she crosses the bridge up to the sky, alone and wanting an adventure.

To her surprise, the islands are nothing like what they seem like from the ground. A civilisation thrives in the sky, but not a civilisation of humans. Instead, the islands are home to a species of creature called Allons. The Allons have many humanoid features, but there is something off about their appearance making them different, almost belonging in the “Uncanny Valley”, a concept Maya had heard of at school. These creatures speak minimal English, only being able to communicate simple ideas. In the first book, Maya has a glorious time exploring this thriving world and civilisation that is so new to her, enjoying experiences it’s culture and even becoming friends with some of the Allons. But there is a problem. The Allons Government won’t let her leave. Not even when the bridge opens back up after a year. They still won’t let her leave. And no one will tell her why.

And that’s where it ends! Such a cliffhanger. I hate it. I’ve become so absorbed in the story; I just want to know what happens.

I’m so absorbed, in fact, that I’ve started having dreams about the story, as if I’m a character in it. As I go to sleep tonight, I can feel myself falling into one of these dreams.

As soon as my eyes are shut, I’m on the island. But unlike in the other dreams, this time I’m not me. I’m an Allon. My body feels strange, like I don’t belong. I’m sitting in some sort of skyscraper office, in front of a computer screen filled with words in a language I don’t understand. People bustle around me, walking with their morning coffees just like people do on Earth at home. Except everything’s wrong. There is something wrong with everything and I can’t place it. It’s unnerving, and I try to wake up.

But I can’t. I can’t wake up.
I’m stuck. Just like Maya.

Trying not to panic, I manage to bring myself to my feet and start to walk around the office. It takes a while to get used to my new stride; my legs and brain feel like they’ve lost connection, but I get there eventually.
A variety of people, or should I say Allons, are moving around the office, while others sit typing furiously at their desks. It’s strange, because although everyone is busy… no one is talking. It’s almost completely silent. I find that a relief, really, as I hate most noises. The doctors back at home say it’s misophonia, but I don’t know. Regardless of me loving the silence… it’s still… strange.

Another strange thing is that all the worker’s computer screens are showing the same, or at least, rather similar things. On the left side sits a document page, where each Allon appears to be taking notes, analysing the video shown on the right. On the right side, a piece of security camera footage is shown. All the screens show different angles, but each piece of footage is focused on the same person. The same one person. A person that I recognise from illustrations I’ve seen before.
Maya.

Word Wars, 56 words
It was a rainy day, a girl was crossing the street looking for her mother. “Mom!” she kept yelling. She got lost when she was shopping with her mom in the market then it had started raining and she got lost. “Lila!” the girl turned around, and there was her mother. Now she could go home.

when green flag clicked

forever
say [Dystopian Ruins FTW!]
end

Word war proof - 62 words

The sheep grazed in peaceful clump of grass in a field as tourists gathered around them, taking photos as though this was the best sight of their entire life. Camels sat nearby, also munching on grass. Suddenly, one of the sheep bleated loudly, and the entire herd charged wildly, trampling the tourists, the shepherd, and even each other on their mad rampage.

A Magical World
Part 5 of the Main Cabin Weekly

Written by Wari
1567 words

Character:
Taylor Clark, by @KitVMH

Setting:
The City of Arcania, by @TheIrbATron

Premise:
A character is thrown into an unfamiliar world, by @-WritingIsCool-

The darkness cleared as I slowly returned to consciousness. The first thing I was aware of was a shrill ringing, and a splitting headache.
As I opened my eyes, I realized that I was lying on hard stone. The roaring of wind was barely audible in the background, overlaid with a strange, deep growling.
I drew myself into a sitting position, groaning as my stiff limbs moved for the first time in what might have been hours. My right temple was throbbing, and it felt tender and sore when I reached up to prod it. Still groggy, I gazed at my surroundings to try to place where I was.
Then my heart started beating a million times a second. I had never seen this place before. In front and behind me, the walls of a narrow alleyway stretched upwards. To the right, I could see the end of the alley. To the left, I could see open space, and could hear the sounds of people talking. Rising shakily, I leaned against the concrete wall. Where was I?
I fought to control my breathing. Calm down, Taylor, I told myself sternly. You can figure this out. I had to have gotten here from somewhere. When I searched my mind, the last thing I remembered was packing up my backpack to return home from school. Then, I was going back home…

…and I was pedaling hard along the well-worn paths that led back to my house. I didn’t like the look of those clouds, and wanted to get back before the coming storm. But when I had only passed the park that marked the halfway point, a thunderclap nearly startled me into losing my balance. A deluge of rain drenched my clothes and made the sidewalk slippery and wet.
As I shot through the pouring droplets, there was a white flash that engulfed the whole world, and a deafening noise that sounded like the sky was falling. The last thing I remembered was losing control of the bicycle, and then there was blackness.

I shook my head to clear it. Had I been struck by lightning? I looked down, and noticed for the first time that my clothes were ripped and singed. But then, how did I get here? I glanced around again. I had explored every corner of my city, but this definitely wasn’t on the way home.
A whoosh came from the open end of the alley. Maybe if I looked around a bit, that would jog my memory. Holding onto the wall for balance, I staggered to the mouth of the alleyway. And then what I saw stopped me in my tracks.
I’m dreaming, I thought as I looked out into the impossible street. Instead of concrete or wood buildings with straight faces and sharp corners, the structures were made up of wavy, bending shapes, and were made up of every color of the rainbow. Some were spheres or cubes, some triangular prisms or donut shapes. I could even see an orb bobbing lazily over a flat plot, its door and window frames shimmering in an endless cycle of shifting colors.
Above my head, strange vehicles zipped through the air, reminding me vaguely of the cars and scooters that I was used to. People bustled hurriedly along the street, wearing sleek clothing that looked straight out of a sci-fi movie.
I’m not in an unfamiliar part of town, I realized. I’m in another world.
I gaped at the landscape blankly, unsure what to feel. Terrified? Confused? Delighted? After a few moments, I shook myself. Either I was hallucinating, or this was real. In the event that it was all in my head, I was going to be getting weird looks from everyone I knew for the rest of my life. But if it wasn’t…
Then this was the discovery of a lifetime. It was time to approach this scientifically. I took a deep breath, and then strode out onto the street. The closest person to me was a tall woman with a pointed hat. I waved to get her attention. “Excuse me? Can I ask you a question?”
The woman halted abruptly, staring at me as if I was a fallen leaf that had peeled itself off the ground and introduced itself as Herbert.
I shouldered on, flashing what I assumed was a charming smile. “What is this place?”
She blinked, looking utterly befuddled, and opened her mouth to speak. Whether she was going to answer my question, tell me off, or scream for help, I’ll never know. Because just then, the world went dark.
All the streetlamps went out. The only light left was an eerie purple glow, and as I looked up, I realized it was coming from a layer of netting that seemed to cover the sky. An enormous dome encapsuled the city, and I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it before. Then the energy field sparked and peeled away, revealing a coal-black sky behind it.
Pinpricks of cold touched my face. I barely grasped the fact it was suddenly raining when the streetlights blared on, now a menacing shade of dark red. Screams filled the air, and then people were running, shoving at each other to get away as fast as possible. The flying cars sped away overhead, some barging into lampposts or buildings as they veered out of control. The sudden chaos was startling, and I retreated a few steps into the alley to avoid being flattened by the crowd. What was going on?
As if everything I had already seen hadn’t been enough to blow my mind, I caught glimpses of figures shooting through the rain, heading in the opposite direction of the crowd. My breath caught in my throat. Were those flying people?
I leaned forward to get a closer look. As lightning flashed, one of the figures turned toward me, their face caught in the sudden brilliance. Then they abruptly changed direction, heading toward the ground. The person alighted right in front of me, using a scepter-looking staff that he was holding to right himself. He was younger than I had thought, about 13 or 14.
“What are you doing here?” he asked urgently, rapidly scanning over my appearance. “Did you get attacked?”
I crossed my arms. “No, I got struck by lightning,” I retorted.
“Ha-ha,” he said dryly. “Come on, I’ll take you to one of the hospitals in the city center, and some of the healing wizards will take a look at you.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean, wizards?” The thought was impossible, but magic would explain this world’s weirdness.
The teen gave me a very strange look. “Did you get knocked on the head or something?”
“What? No!” I was starting to get impatient. “Look, I’m not from here. I was struck by lightning, and then suddenly, I woke up here!”
He rolled his eyes and started to say something. Then he stopped, and seemed to ponder whether my statement was true. The teen tapped his staff-scepter thing on the ground, muttering something under his breath. Then a blue orb rose out of the tip, illuminating the alley brightly.
The boy inhaled sharply, taking a step back. I glared at him. I get that you’ve got cool clothes, flying houses, wizards, and giant wands, but there’s no need to act like I’m the one who’s so weird.
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Ok, first thing we need to do is get you to safety, and then we can figure the rest out.”
“Safety from what?” I frowned. Sure, the city seemed to be in a sort of magical power outage, and it was starting to get rather windy, but his tone made me think that he meant something else.
The boy’s gaze fixated on something behind me. “That.”
I whirled around to see a slavering, hunched creature climbing down from the wall on the other end of the alley. It was about the size of a golden retriever, but it was covered in thick purple fur, and scuttled on six legs.
I stared at it, horrified. Then a beam of pale blue lightning came from behind me, hitting the creature and turning it into a pile of violet ash.
The teen held up his scepter, the blue orb crackling with energy. “More monsters will be coming now that the dome’s down. We need to get to a safe place.”
I looked at him, eyes wide. “What was…how did…?” For the first time in my life, I was utterly speechless.
He gave me a small, slightly smug smile, and held out his hand. “Come on.”
I stayed still for a few moments, feeling a million emotions at once. My first instinct was to refuse his help. But… if another one of those things came along, I’d probably be toast. And besides, if I was going to ever find my way back home, I’d have to get help somewhere.
Might as well start now. I clasped his hand firmly. Then the boy muttered a few words, and his scepter glowed, lifting us up in the air.
I didn’t know much about this strange world. But as we rose above the city, one thought—no, one fact—stayed in my mind. Whether I found a way out, or was trapped here forever, one thing was for certain. Nothing will ever be the same again.

Weekly that I definitely didn't procrastinate on. sorry i can't add everything or format it or anything

Collab: this comment chain
https://scratch.mit.edu/users/enchantedd-/#comments-193041466

Char:
Emery Thornton, 16, human

Personality: 212/200 words
Emery is just the type of person to go to college in Ireland just because she can. Impulsive, charismatic, and spontaneous, Emery loves traveling to new places and meeting new people. She is kind, but this kindness often extends more to animals than people. She doesn't let herself get attached to others too easily, as the predictability of human feelings bores her. This can cause other people to label her as cold or even introverted when she is quite the opposite. Once you get her to come out of her shell, she is loyal and will protect her friends at all costs. However, her unwavering loyalty and high energy can be a bit much for a lot of people.
Emery's favorite hobby is anything that involves animals or nature. She loves to go on hikes and nature walks, and often gets sidetracked. She has gotten lost on multiple occasions due to her preference to forge her own path, instead of taking the pre-made one. Although Emery loves to cook and bake, she is a terrible chef. She is prone to straying from the recipe and adding whatever random things she thinks of in the moment. Emery once made one successful batch of Pillsbury cookies, so she is convinced she can do anything.

Wants/Hopes/Strengths 200/200 words
The biggest thing on Emery's bucket list is to travel to at least ten different countries. While she does value human companionship some of the time, romance and starting a family are far from the top of her priorities. What she really wants is to get a job where she can move around the world, instead of being anchored to an office. A desk job is her worst nightmare.
Due to her go-with-the-flow attitude, Emery is good at adapting to unforeseen situations. She can fit in almost anywhere and loves to throw herself into new challenges. She plans to take a gap year after high school to spend time backpacking around Europe, but after that, she's not quite sure what she wants to do.
Another one of her strengths is her quick reflexes. While her impulsivity may hinder her in some situations, her tendency to always go with her gut usually helps with decision-making. Whether it's the right decision or not, Emery always makes up her mind.
Emery is great with animals, especially wild ones. She loves bird watching and all of nature, and can usually find her way if she gets lost, which is honestly most of the time.

Dislikes and fears 110/100 words
The things Emery hates most are closed spaces and high expectations. She is a free spirit and hates feeling enclosed, so being in any sort of small space without windows is her worst nightmare. Although it takes a lot to get her worked up, she does have severe anxiety. Her anxiety usually manifests itself in overthinking her decisions, typically at night when she is trying to fall asleep. She is a very light sleeper and often doesn't get more than five hours of sleep a night, on a good day. She doesn't fear not fitting in, but she is deathly afraid of losing the few people she really cares about.

Premise: 158/150 words
Your character is starring in a reality tv show of their life. The only problem is, they have no idea! They believe that they are going about their life just as any typical person would, when really everything they know is a lie. Their town is filled with paid actors, and everyone they come across is speaking to them from a script. Even their best friends were cast specifically so that they bond well with your character's personality. This illusion of normalcy is shattered one day when your character goes beyond the confines of your setting and sees that they are actually living on a giant soundstage. There are cameras everywhere, and your character accidentally notices a fat script with their name on it. Within it is a record of everything your character has ever said and done, their thoughts, and how they interact with others. It is your decision how your character deals with this shocking information.

Setting: 403/400 words
(Looking back it's more of a premise but whatever)

The Forest of Desire. These four simple words strike both fear and longing into the hearts of whoever hears them. Shadowed between two mountains, the Forest will unearth one's deepest desires and tantalize them with the thought of getting them. A single path leads into the wood, though it looks different to every passerby. For some, it may look like a paved path lined with cobblestones, just a moment away from a horse-drawn carriage clip-clopping its way down the road. To others, the path may look like a path paved only by the travelers who dare to traverse the forest. Even still, to others the path may look like a simple wooden boardwalk, lined with meticulously manicured shrubs and flowers.
Once you enter the forest, all sound stops, save for the birds who chirp merrily from the trees. On a closer look, the bird noises only come from hidden speakers integrated into the undergrowth, but only the most observant forest goers may discover these.
About five minutes after you walk into the wood, the path splits. A sign on one side of the fork is labeled ‘Love,’ the other, ‘Success.’ The traveler will feel a strong pull to one direction, and the way will look much more alluring. The opposite fork will seem dark, gloomy, and uninviting.
If the traveler chooses the path of Love, the next fork will give them a choice between two traits. It differs for every different person who takes the path.
If they choose the path of “Success,” they are given a choice between money and power. Again, one path will seem much more worthwhile than the other.
This pattern of forks goes on for quite some time. By the time they reach the final fork, there are thousands of paths the traveler could have taken.
At the end of the path lies a clearing, with a single well. At this point, the traveler has taken the path they most desire. They are so deep into the forest that it would take them years to find their way out. Unbeknownst to the traveler, each fork closes after they make their decision, leaving the way out a perilous and overgrown journey.
However, the traveler chooses to stay at the well. Looking into the well, they see themselves with the thing they most desire. Each traveler sees a different image reflected back at them, as each person has different desires.

Final story- 1k words exactly
Setting
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=66#post-6112232
Premise
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=64#post-6110714
Character
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=66#post-6112028


Laurel swallows nervously, pushing her light brown hair behind her ear. It's already in a tight ponytail, has been since the beginning of the day, but again. She's nervous. Clenching and unclenching her fists, she forces herself to open her eyes and survey her surroundings.
She stands in the middle of a bridge. Around her is deadly silent. No living thing dares to interrupt the stillness that surrounds her, suffocating her, engulfing her in its iron grips.
Laurel gulps and takes a deep breath.
It's going to be ok, she thinks. I'll figure out some way to fix this. Let's start at the very beginning, and we'll go from there.
Her subconscious wants to make a joke about the Sound of Music, but refrains as it notices how much this means to her.
Back to the beginning.
The beginning.
–
It was a field trip. That's how all dramatic stories start, right? Laurel hoped something dramatic would happen. It would be good practice for that fateful day a reality show scout would come along, looking for the perfect person to cast in the hot new series. The scout would look past Marigold, with her glossy hair and blindingly white teeth, and past Eden, with her tinkling laugh and voice of an angel. They would look past everyone, deeming them not enough. They would look to Laurel. They would see past her mediocre exterior, past her mousy brown hair and barely passable grades. they would look past all that and see to the real Laurel. The Laurel with big ambitions. The Laurel who dreamed about one day having her name in lights, of being invited to fancy parties and sparkling premieres.
They would see that, and they would ask her-
“Laurel! Come on, what are you waiting for?”
Right. First, she had to get through this field trip. She could do this.
Why a group of high schoolers would take a field trip to the Three Mile Bridge was beyond her. Laurel didn't want to come, but it was mandatory for some reason. She was the only junior in her Theater Arts class, none of her friends wanted to take it with her. Still, she didn't want to be left out. So even though she hated heights, and had no interest in some random bridge, she reluctantly got on the bus and came.
–
The bridge was, to put it simply, enormous. A deep cerulean, with soaring white suspension cables, the bridge made one feel as if they were standing on the sky itself.
Laurel hated it. Hated the way the dense fog made it slippery, hated how the tour guide stressed the fact that no one has died here for a decade. She hated how deep the chasm was around her, hated the way you could feel the bridge sway in the breeze.
And, of course, her Theater Arts class had to walk across the entire bridge.
Yep! All three miles. And back again!
At least she had her teacher, a small-time actor who quit life onstage to, as she put it, “enlighten the great young minds of tomorrow.” She was young and energetic and preferred field trips to endless lectures. Unlike most of her teachers, Laurel actually liked her.
Today she was wearing a dress that draped over her like a curtain, albeit a very fashionable one. It was covered in tiny embroidered flowers and made her look like a foreign princess.
“Alright. Let's get this show on the road! Everyone, make sure to keep your head up. The bridge could be slippery, so make sure you are paying attention at all times. Follow me!” Her teacher strode ahead, seemingly oblivious to how the wind blowing through the canyon sounded eerily like a scream.
Laurel walked at the back of the group, head down, hands in her pockets. She didn't want to look at the canyon, or the sky- there was too much of it. She just wanted to look down at her feet, and her worn-out shoes, and most definitely not at the terrifying drop below her.
She had just reached the middle of the bridge. At least, the signs on either side of her said so.
–
And here she was, standing frozen in the silence that surrounded her. She glanced up and gasped.
Everybody around her was frozen. Like, not moving at all. Laurel frantically looked around, trying to find something that was moving, something, anything. Anything besides her.
Nothing.
Not even the wind, which had howled so mournfully through the canyon. Not even the birds, chirping cheerfully from their hidden forest perch. Not even the ocean, its usually ever-flowing tide suspended in time. It terrified her, her legs crumpling beneath her as she sank to the bridge, gasping for breath.
Why was everybody frozen? Why was everybody-
Suddenly, she froze, the smallest sound reaching her ears. She looked around frantically, trying to find the source of this seemingly forbidden sound. It wasn't the tour guide, frozen with her hands stretched out, pointing at the forest on the other side of the bridge. It wasn't anyone in her class, they were all looking down at their phones. Ironically, it didn't look that different from their usual pose.
Her eyes stopped when she got to her teacher. Her mouth was moving. Laurel walked over to her tentatively, afraid of what she might find. But when she was just a foot away, it was if an invisible wall had been built between her teacher and her. She could see what her teacher was saying though, and it wasn't good.
“Save me. Save me. Save me.”
Her teacher wore a pained expression, eyebrows pinched with worry. Laurel knew she had to do something, but what? She wasn't the heroic type, or even the problem-solving type.
Laurel was completely and utterly stumped.
She had been trained to improvise, to make the best out of the situation, but none of the improv classes she ever took involved what to do if time literally stopped.

Essay Writing for ELA- Flowers for Algernon, 737 words
Once again, please be aware that the story is about a man with a mental disability that keeps him from understanding things as others do, and that it is a story recommended for teens. There's a lot of concepts little ones may not understand, or stressful ideas that keep the reader from embracing the story at full length. Some excerpts from the passage are used, because this is English Language Arts class.

Flowers for Algernon tells a tale of self insecurity and harmful wishing towards others not like oneself. As its theme may be personally interpreted, many suggest it concerns the acquisition of knowledge on its own. A person such as myself may see things differently. As claimed in the 20th of May progress report, Even a feeble-minded man wants to be like other men. A child may not know how to feed itself, or what to eat, yet it knows of hunger. This then is what I was like, I never knew. Even with my gift of intellectual awareness, I never really knew.“ Charlie used to have below average intelligence. This gave him the ability to be oblivious towards obvious things, such as his ”friends“ making fun of him. After the surgery, Charlie Gordon saw his life differently. He saw the good and bad in others and comprehended media in a way that most regular humans never think about. In his thoughts, he had forgotten what he was like before, and even tried to remove his old self entirely from his head. However, seeing himself in the little boy made him realize that what he was doing was just as wrong as everyone else. The report states, ”In my mental blindness, I thought that it was somehow connected with the ability to read and write, and I was sure that if I could get those skills I would automatically have intelligence too.“ Back before Gordon received the surgery, he thought that if he could do things just he same as other ”regular people“, he would be on the same playing field as them. Most people that refer to oneself as ”geniuses“ are likely able to read and write to an extreme proportion, so he imagined. If others can read and write, and that makes them smart, theoretically I should learn how to read and write to make myself smart. Overall, the ability to read and write is a skill that makes you smarter by teaching. If you read something, it may influence you, motivate you, further your educational progression, or even a combination of either of those. Charlie's beliefs eventually blossomed over time, to mean something more impactful than ”Intelligence is a pride, and there is pride within knowledge as a whole.“
Charlie's mind is incredible, to the point where it has surpassed a good portion of mankind, but it is still that of a child. ”Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I joined with them in laughing at myself. That hurts most of all.“ As far as intelligence goes, there are many kinds. Socially, an intelligence to ”read the room“ or observe carefully would be considered smart. Apps that are classified as social media are not often heavy benefactors of this kind of intelligence due to their nature. Let it be reminded that it is not the fault of the creators, nor those who are innocent, but the danger is in those that would dare use it for free gain on a fictional currency made of numbers and coincidence. The text later emphasizes, ”If I could be made into a genius, what about thousands of others like myself? What fantastic levels might be achieved by using this technique on normal people? On geniuses?“ Charlie is not used to social intelligence the way most usually are. A great majority of the time, ”intelligent" is described as a synonym for smart, nerdy, passing grades, top of your class, etc. This is the way intelligence is seen by several thousand of the Earth's people. What they don't see, or understand, is that intelligence is defined as comprehension. Charlie assumed the same position as the rest of the world, and told himself that intelligence is another word for smart. That alone isn't enough. If people did not have survival intelligence, emotional intelligence, or reasoning intelligence, morality and selfishness would become unbalanced, throw each other out of the way, and Earth would become a chaotic, mostly dead, planet of no life to speak of. For that would be certain in a circumstance where everyone is almost completely carnal and crazed. In Charlie's (somewhat) newfound understanding of emotional intelligence and ethical morality, he's dedicated himself to helping others in a similar situation as he. Though he is making a mistake by not knowing how harmful it is to gain knowledge excessively….

Weekly 2 part 4 - Premise
Your main character is walking down a familiar hallway (in their house, school, or anywhere else that works) when they spot a door they had never noticed before, a door that seems to have popped up over night. It doesn’t match the other doors in the hallway; it’s old, wooden, and carved with ornate designs. If they try the knob, they will find it locked. There is no way for them to open it. Later, they find an old-looking, exquisitely shaped key, the same color as the doorknob. Try it in the lock, and the main character will find that it fits. They unlock the door, and push it open. While they may or may not know better, they find themselves walking through the door, whether intentionally or not. As soon as they’ve stepped through, it slams shut behind them. Looking around, the main character sees that they are in a place at least as out of place in the building as the door that brought them there…

Main Cabin Daily 3/16
Topic: Google Translate Lyrics Story
Wordcount: 813
Redirect to main page

Song: Gone Away by CG5
Translated through: Kinyarwanda, tatar, corsican, igbo, sesotho
Translated Lyrics:
I saw a quiet face in heaven
To the east
But it took time
Just once
Then we see the sign of war
The freedom you feel is far away
Erika is focused on
Some are endless music
He loves chaos and I have never seen him
Good things do not happen to heroes like you and me
It only took a minute
Just once
These ideas are gifts
And we will not give up
I have built this city something
It's over
He left
It took time
Just once
Health and freedom
The quest for victory is over
I have built this city something
It's over
He left



Story:

Am I in Heaven? Erica thought.
No, it couldn’t be. Surely the fall from the mountain of Colorado wasn’t that bad. No, she must have hit her head.
But yet, the green grass and the white, blank sky told another story.
Erica curled in a ball and began to cry.
Not even her tears would be released. It was like something was forcing them back. She sniffled, standing up uncertainly and looked at her surroundings.
To the east she saw a boy with a peaceful face. He was quiet, legs crossed and appeared to be looking at something.
Erica quietly approached him.
“Hello?” she asked.
He glanced back. “Welcome to heaven,” he said.
He had black, curled hair that didn’t run past his ears. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown, and they were slightly lowered. His face didn’t say much about him.
“Am I really in heaven?” Erica asked, even if she knew the answer was yes.
“Of course,” he responded, staring off at something.
Hearing someone say it filled Erica with a grounding certainty that it was true, but also a massive growing dread.
“I’m Erica,” Erica said, holding out her hand.
“I’m Theo,” the boy responded, taking her hand.
It was warm. Erica’s heart pounded. And then and there, she knew that she had fallen for the first boy, no, the first person, she had seen in heaven. In her head, she sighed. Boy troubles was exactly what she didn’t need.
“What are you starting at?” she asked.
“War,” he said, pointing into the distance.
For such a dreaded thing, his eyes looked relaxed, his mouth turned slightly up in a smile. It was almost as if he loved the chaos that war brought.
“War in heaven?” Erica asked. She looked to where he had pointed, and from their little cliff edge, there was a battle not too far away, on the ground below the cliff.
“War in heaven,” he repeated. “Humanity has gotten to the point where even in the most peaceful place can’t hold its own to our greed.”
Erica shivered. “Did you study philosophy before you came here?”
“No,” he smiled. “But my mind often wanders.”
“You’re very obscure,” Erica commented.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“War is like endless music,” Theo eventually said.
“Can we stop it?” Erica asked.
“In theory, yes,” he said. “But good things don’t happen to heros just like you and me.”
“But i’m not a hero,” Erica countered.
“You’re willing to be one,” Theo said.
The conversation ended there.
“You know, the reason i’m so philosophical is because i’ve been here a long time,” Theo said.
“You have? How long?” Erica asked.
“40 years,” Theo said.
All of a sudden it felt gross for Erica to like him. She withdrew her feelings briskly.
“So you’ve been watching this war for 20 years?” Erica asked.
“Not the whole time,” Theo said. “Once, I built this city something. A grand library for people to read and bond. My new ideas were gifts to them. But different opinions clashed.
“I didn’t give up. I continued to try and keep our community together. But it wasn’t enough. None of it was ever enough. My quest for victory was over, and the war began.”
“So you caused it?” Erica clarified.
“Admittedly, yes.”
“Why did you give up?” Erica asked.
“You don’t understand. I tried to separate them for years. Maybe ten, maybe twenty. I lost track of time then,” Theo said.
“Don’t you want things to change?” Erica asked.
“Yes I do,” Theo said.
“Then why aren’t you out there, fighting for what you believe in?” Erica asked. “It’s just going to stay the same if you do nothing.”
Theo got up. “Young Erica, you are right. I should be fighting no matter the cost.”
Erica watched him take a narrow pathway down to the battlefield. She absentmindedly became the new Theo. The watcher of battles. But chaos made her squirm.
She watched Theo pick up armor from a fallen soldier. Or what looked like a fallen soldier. Nothing was there but the armor. Erica made a quick inference that if you died, your soul would just be gone. Lost to whatever violence occurred.
For three days she watched him fight. And on the end of day three, she watched, as he was struck down, feeling her heart split in two.
But she was numb. So much death she had seen in the last three days. Enough to fill too many lifetimes.
It was over.
He’d left.
He’d left her to take his position, and he had left the world.
It was cruel, really. He was waiting for someone to replace him. But that is what he desired. He died fighting for a cause. It gave Erica less resentment, but she still felt numb to the core.
She stayed there. Watching. Waiting. Numb.

Take my treasure.
Are you Aaron Burr, teacher?
It depends on the mixture. Does anyone know?
Well, of course, sir.
My name is Alexander Hamilton, I work for you, sir.
I love you
I was scared
front …
I heard your name at Princeton.
I was looking for emergency leadership
When I was growing up to be friends.
Maybe he hit me. I'm not sure, sir.
Do you manage your finances?
You hit the wallet
yes already!
I want to do what you do.
The couple then lied.
He looked at me because he was stupid, I wasn't stupid
So how do you do that? How fast do you make a name?
My parents wanted to die before they could
You are an orphan. simple ordinary! I am an orphan
God, I'd say there's a war
Then we can prove that we are more valuable than anyone in the market
Can I buy a drink?
is good
During our conversation
Let me give you some free advice
Say a few words
ho?
smiled again
I am
Don't let them know what you're doing or why
You can't get pregnant
Do you want to continue?
yes already
The fool who enters his mouth is dead
Okay, so these are the lyrics of ‘Aaron Burr, Sir’ from Hamilton. I have an idea for this craziness, unfortunately…

Here's my story:
“Just take the d*mn gold already!” Alex throws the gold on the table and storms away, leaving the bartender staring after her. She threw herself into the chair with a bang, and the man at the table flinched.
“Are you Aaron? Sir?” she added, glancing at his clothes. Way fancier than hers, which were beat up, muddy, and torn. A large bruise was forming on her cheekbone, and her knuckles were bleeding. Aaron stared at her, pulling his well-tailored coat a little tighter around himself. He was a teacher for the revolutionaries, and a well respected one. He wanted nothing to do with her.
“That depends on who you are, and compared to me. Who’s asking?” He scanned her, taking in her grungy, torn apart appearance warily. “I have oft been asked for help by strangers, and been betrayed. You cannot get me roped into your plans that easily.”
“Of course. I have not come to blackmail you. I’m Alex Hamilton. At your service.” She stood and executed and exaggerated bow, before thunking back into her seat. “I’ve been looking for you, for quite some time.”
“I’m getting nervous…” Aaron shifted uneasily in his chair. Alex didn’t appear to notice.
“I worked for you once? Do you remember?” Alex’s eyes were unsettling. Aaron pushed his chair back, pulling away from her gaze.
“I’m afraid I don’t.” he said. Did she ever work for him? She must have been lying, he’d remember someone as… unsettling as she was. And unsettling was a more civil term for her that some on the street might say.
“I heard your name in Prince’s Square, and that’s why I came searching for you. I was seeking to gain emergency leadership, a promotion to the command of the revolutionary forces. Why they were speaking of it, in Prince’s Square of all places, I do not know.”
“They’ll get themselves hanged, and that’s if they’re lucky.” Alex had mistaken him for someone else. Someone as eccentric as she should not be in command, and if Aaron was associated with her, he would never be able to gain any authority either.
“I approached them, but the two of them lied to me. In exchange, I tried to rob them. That didn’t go over all that well.” she gestured to the bruise on her face. “They were stupid enough to challange me.” Her eyes grew hard, and she glared at him dangerously. “I’m not stupid.”
“I should go.” Aaron stood up, and moved towards the door, but Alex followed suit, stopping him before he reached the door.
“I have to know. How did you make a name for yourself so quickly?”
“My parents wanted nothing for me, no fame, no glory. They got themselves killed, and left me with nothing. I meant to disgrace them. It was my ambition that drove me on.” Aaron responded, annoyed. He tried to pull away, but Alex’s grip on his arm was too strong, and tightened when he struggled.
“You’re an orphan. As am I. And I have as much ambition as you do, if not more.” Alex’s expression turned to that of crazed excitement as she continued speaking. “God, I hope that the revolutionaries move from protest to outright war. Then, folks like you and I can prove that we’re worth more than the snobs on the street!”
Aaron smiled, in spite of himself. Maybe Alex’s energy could be put to good use after all. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Alex smiled, eyes still mildly crazed. “That’d be good.”
“While we’re talking, allow me to offer you some advice.”
Aaron went to the bar, and threw down a few coins. He passed a mug to Alex, and she accepted it gratefully.
“So..?” she asked, waiting.
“Speak little.”
She raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink.
“Smile.”
“I am,” she responded, grinning at a young man in the corner. He blushed. Aaron rolled his eyes.
“Smile more. And at the people you’re trying to impress. Quit flirting with random people.” That’s another problem, he added in his head. You can’t focus.
She winked at the guy, then turned her attention back to Aaron.
“Do you want to continue?” he asked, irritated. “You have to keep your mouth shut, okay? People who talk get themselves tortured or killed. You understand?”

Change of Heart, a Warrior Cats fan fic For Writing Competition, 2,028 words.

Chapter One, Claypaw
“Claypaw!” Yelled Crowfeather “Time for the patrol to leave!” “Coming!” Claypaw yelled back. He hoped that this would be his last patrol as an apprentice. Claypaw was a clay-colored cat with dark brown paws, tail, and ears, with orange eyes. He also was on his last moon of training. As the patrol finished patrolling the RiverClan border they heard a bark. “Dog!” Nightcloud yelled “Run!” Claypaw wiped around to face the beast. It was a big black and white dog, shaggy to. “Leave WindClan alone flea brain!” Claypaw shouted at it. In response it clawed his chest, but he ducked in time for it to be a shallow scratch. Claypaw clawed the dogs face, and it ran off. “Claypaw are you ok?” Asked Crowfeather, running back to him. “Yeah.” “Let's take you to Barkface. And next time, listen to orders!” Nightcloud said.

“There,” Said Barkface after putting some cobwebs on the scratch. “I'll change the cobwebs in the morning.” Claypaw walked out of the medicine cat den to find that a clan meeting had been called and Onestar had called for him. “Claypaw, it's time for you to become a warrior. From this moment on you shall be known as Clayfoot.” “Clayfoot” Clayfoot! Clayfoot!“ After a meal Clayfoot went to sit file. ”Don't fall to sleep!“ Crowfeather called after him ”I won't!“

12 Moons later

Chapter Two, Mistfoot
Mistfoot climbed out of the river, her glossy fur catching the sun light. ”Winterpaw!“ She meowed at her apprentice ”Time to head back to camp. Remember you're going to the Gathering.“ ”Coming!“ Winterpaw yelled back. Mistfoot remembered her first Gathering as a warrior. She and three other warriors had all gotten their warrior names and once. Her, Rainstorm, Clayfoot, and Winterspirt had become friends. Or as close as cats can be without breaking the code that is. Mistfoot also remembered how she got her warrior name. She was watching kits play by the river and then one, Winterkit who was now her apprentice, had fallen in. Mistfoot had jumped in to save the kit, who had been stuck beneath a willow root. Mistfoot had pulled her out of the river, but sadly Winterkit's tail was bent odd, and no cat could fix it. But now, SkyClan had moved in, and this next Gathering was going to be big. ”See you tonight, Winterpaw!“ Mistfoot called to her as she went to bed. ”You to!“

At the Gathering…

”SkyClan is doing well,“ Leafstar meowed after all the cats got quiet. ”We have a new warrior, Thunderclaw.“ ”Thunderclaw! Thunderclaw! Thunderclaw!“ The cats shouted. Mistfoot saw a vary fluffy, yellow cat with minty green eyes looking rather happy. She must have been Thunderclaw. ”As you all know,“ said Firestar stepping forward. ”Sunspot is not at this Gathering, nor are a few other warriors whom you all should somewhat know. Sunspot sent Redfur and Blossomtail to StarClan a few nights ago and has been banished. Rainstorm, Rainstorm's kits, Moonstep, and Birchtail are all still grieving. We have two new warriors, who are sadly not here, Peachstorm and Luckywhisker.“ ”Peachstorm! Luckywhisker!“ Mistfoot remembered that Peachstorm and Luckywhisck were Rainstorm's kits, no one knew who the father was though. After the Gathering ended the cats mingled and Mistfoot met-up with Winterspirt, Rainstorm, and Clayfoot to go talk to Thunderclaw. As they walked up, Mistfoot could see that one of Thunderclaw's paw was scared. ”Hello.“ Winterspirt said to Thunderclaw in his deep-ish voice. ”Why, hello.“ said Thunderclaw ”How's life by the lake for SkyClan?“ Rainstorm asked, still sounding sad, ”Good.“ Thunderclaw meowed back. ”I'm sorry to hear about your brother and sister.“ ”Finding plenty of prey?“ This time it was Clayfoot who spoke. Mistfoot stared at him, he was quite most of the time, and now he was talking to a new cat. Thunderclaw was also staring at him. ”Ve- very well.“ she meowed at him. ”Are you ok?“ Mistfoot asked ”Yeah.“ Thunderclaw answered, now gawking at Clayfoot. ”Ok…“ ”RiverClan! Time to go!“ Mistystar meowed. ”See ya!“ Mistfoot said. and then she ran off to join her clan.

The night she had a dream. She was going to sit vile after her warrior ceremony, but as she passed her clan mates, she saw 4 other cats. She could not see who they were. Only that one had a nick in his ear, one had a scratch on her side, one had claw marks on his chest, and the last one had a scratch on her paw and was quite fluffy. ”Go with them…“ A voice said. ”Go with them to the sun-drown place. Speak to Midnight. She will tell you what you must do…“ Then she woke up. ”What in the name of StarClan was that?“ she meowed to herself. ”Mistfoot!“ some cat meowed from outside. ”Yeah?“ Mistfoot meowed as she walked out, the cat was Willowshine. ”We must talk.“ She said. At once Mistfoot knew what she wanted to talk about. ”Let's go for a swim.“ She meowed. And she and Willowshine walked out of camp.


Chapter Three, Rainstorm
Rainpaw ran and ran and ran. She could hear a cat yelling. A stick scratched her side, but she didn't care. She finely saw who was in trouble. A gray tom, who looked about the same age she was, with green eyes, and she saw why he was shouting. A badger. It had clawed out his left eye and bit off his tail. The tom ran behind a tree and Rainpaw lunged at the badger. After a few hard blows to its face, it ran off and Rainpaw walked up to the tom. ”Who are you?“ the tom asked. ”Rainpaw of ThunderClan. How about you?“ she meowed ”Stone of who knows where. Thank you for saving me.“ ”No problem. I mean, I probably failed my finale test but who cares?“ ”Rainpaw!“ ”Oh, Brook's coming!“ ”I should go.“ Stone said. ”Bye! Watch out for badgers!“ Rainpaw called after him as he ran off. ”Who was that? And why is your side scratched?“ Brook asked walking up to Rainpaw. ”A stick, and that was nobody.“ As Rainpaw turned to go back to camp she gasped. Standing by a tree where 4 cats. One had a nick in his ear, one had soaking wet fur, one had claw marks on his chest, and the last one had a scratch on her paw and was rather fluffy. ”Go with them…“ A voice said. ”Go with them to the sun-drown place. Speak to Midnight. She will tell you what you must do…“

Rainstorm woke up with a start. She ran out of the warrior's den and bumped into Jayfeather. ”Is Moonstep in the medicine cat den?“ She asked. ”You know you could talk to me, right?“ He said. Rainstorm sighed ”No.“ She meowed turning to go see Moonstep. ”She's out gathering herbs. I'm the only one here.“ He called after her. She froze, sniffing the air. He was right, she could smell her sister's scent going outside camp. ”Fox dung.“ she mumbled flicking her tail to tell Jayfeather to meet her out by the lake. After telling him about her dream, he said. ”Midnight… she's a badger. So, you should most likely find those cats and go talk to her.“ ”Ok… One of them is Winterspirt an-“ ”Who could you tell?“ ”He has a nick in his ear, and Winterspirt has a nick in his ear to, StarClan know how he got it. I think one is Clayfoot, because the claw mark looked like one of his scars, one of them was SUPER fluffy and know a fluffy cat with a scared foot… Thunderclaw. That just leaves the wet cat. It could be anyone from RiverClan!“ ”Do you know any RiverClan cats?“ ”Mistfoot.“ ”So, it's probably her.“ ”I don't know…“ ”Later I'll to talk to them.“ ”Ok. I'm going to see the sun-drown place!“

Chapter Four, Thinderclaw
*I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT SKYCLAN SO THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT, SORRY*

Thunderclaw was dreaming. She was fighting the fox, she ran up a tree, wincing is the fox clawed her paw, after she was on a tree branch, she knocked a stick down. It landed right in the fox's eye. Thunderpaw leaned down and clawed at the fox, and it ran off. Her dream shifted. Now her clanmate where cheering her new warrior's name. Her dream shifted again. She was in the forest, hunting. ”Thunderclaw…“ Somone said. ”Who's there?“ Thunderclaw asked. ”You wouldn't know me…“ ”What do you want?“ she asked the cat. Tunderclaw could not see who was talking but she could tell it was a she-cat. ”You must go…“ ”Go where?“ ”Go with them to the sun-drown place. Speak to Midnight. She will tell you what you must do…“ Thunderclaw turned around to see four cats, one with a Nic in its ear, one with soaking wet fur, one with a scratch on its side, and one with claw marks on his chest. ”Please Thunderclaw, go with them.“ ”I will.“

Thunderclaw woke up knowing what she had to do. She called out to her leader ”I have to visit some friends! I should be back soon!“ And before anyone could respond, she ran into the woods.

Chapter Five, Winterspirt
Winterspirt was going to sleep after the Gathering. As he drifted off to sleep, he remembered how he had gotten his warrior name. He had chased the kittypets off the border. One had left a nic in his ear. Winterspirt smiled at the memory, then he saw a cat standing in the corner. ”Wintspirt. Go with them to the sun-drown place. Speak to Midnight. She will tell you what you must do…“ Winterspirt saw four cats, one with a scratch on its side, one with soaking wet fur, one with a scratch on its paw, and one with claw marks on his chest. ”No, I like it here. I'm not leaving.“ ”I will make you see that you should go.“ the cat said stepping where he could see her better. ”Blossomtail?“ Blossomtail started to fade away. ”No! Don't go! I'll go! I'll go!“ but she was gone. And Winterspirt fell to sleep.

He woke up and saw his clanmate's where laying way to still. He ran out of the den, everything was dark, and the sky was bright red. He ran down to the lake and gasped. The lake was also red, with blood. ”This is what will happen if you don't go with them.“ A voice said, it was Blossomtail again. ”I'll go.“ ”Good. But beware.“ Blossomtail faded away. Then someone pushed Winterspirt into the red lake. ”Help!!!“ He yelled He saw a gray cat with blue eyes. ”Help me!“ ”No.“ the cat said, ”My revenge will go on.“ Winterspirt sunk into the lake. ”We will meet again“ The cat's voice said. ”But I will not look the same. Watch your back, Winterspirt. because I will be waiting.“ Then Winterspirt drifted into the darkness at the bottom of the lake.

Winterspirt awoke with a start. He looked around, sighing with relief as he listened his clanmates outside. He walked out of the den and saw it was already sun high. Tigerstar steped out of his den. ”Hello, Winterspirt. Glad your awake.“ Tigerstar said, ”Why did no one wake me up?“ Winterspirt asked. ”I thought you needed some sleep.“ ”I'm going hunting. If you don't mind, sir.“ ”By all means.“ Winterspirt ran out of the camp, and all the way to the SkyClan border. ”Hello?“ Someone asked. ”Jayfeather?“ Winterspirt ask. ”Winterspirt! Just the cat I was looking for!“ ”Are we all here for the same reason?“ A new cat asked. It was Thunderclaw. ”If that reason is because a dream then yes.“ Jayfeather said. ”Wait, you had the dream to?“ Winterspirt asked him. ”No, Rainstorm did.“ ”So, you're in? And is Rainstorm in?“ Thunderclaw asked. ”Yes.“ Winterspirt and Jayfeather said in unison. ”Great!“ she said ”Winterspirt, go ask Mistfoot of RiverClan if she's in, and I'll go ask Clayfoot.“ Jayfeather said ”Wait,“ said Winterspirt ”How do you know who to ask?“ ”Rainstorm said that's who she thinks also had the dream.“ ”Whatever. See ya." and with that they all walked off.

when green flag clicked

forever
say [Dystopian Ruins FTW!]
end

Collaborative Story between Isauree and Damsonblossom

A Rulebreaker's Rainfall - 1282 words


Sam stepped out onto the rainy road really regretting they had forgotten to bring an umbrella. Annoyed, they pulled their hood up and tried not to get wet. They desperately tried to work out which was better, running or walking. Eventually, they decided to run so they could be in the warm and dry quicker. Running wasn’t their best thing, so they kept slowing down. They saw children carrying umbrellas and adults with umbrellas and wished they had remembered to bring one. Their mum told them in the morning to bring one, but they thought the weather would be fine so they decided not to bring one. Sam was so angry with the weather forecast! They had said it would not rain. Look what a state they were in now, because of their stupidity!
They started slowing down, but then quickly started back up. If they had to get home in this weather, they made up their mind it would be best to try and not get wet. They continued running through the pouring rain nearly drenched through to the bone. Even though they had put their hood on before, it wasn’t helping much anymore. They made up their mind never to trust the weather forecast again.
Sam's schoolbag bounced up and down behind their back, while their open pencil case and books were making even more of a mess of themselves. It was only when Sam reached the centre of town that they plucked up the courage to ask for a lift. They were fourteen, so they were old enough to get a lift by themselves, right? They know their parents wouldn’t agree with this, but they thought this would be better than getting pneumonia. Feeling very uneasy, they made their way over to the taxi rank in the town centre. There was only one taxi at the rank, but Sam had seen others around town earlier. Thursdays probably weren't usually the busiest for taxis, but the torrential rain seemed to have caused a surge in the number of people requiring a ride. The taxi was black and inside was a man smoking an enormous cigar. Sam considered waiting for another one, but waiting would require sitting in a café or getting soaked in the rain. If they were getting a taxi, it was now or never.
This was probably one of the scariest things they had ever done. Sam was known to overthink things sometimes, but they decided they couldn’t overthink now. Acting a lot bolder than they felt, she made sure they had their bag and walked over to the taxi waiting. “Umm, excuse me, how much would a ride to Fairy Road cost?” asked Sam. Their nerves began to skyrocket and they felt themselves shivering. “It’s a bit cold out here.”
“Three pounds fifty,” the taxi driver replied decidedly. “Just you?”
“Yeah, just me…”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be taking a taxi on your own kid? But hop on anyway.” Now Sam was slowly rethinking what they had done. Had this been the right idea? The thought piled up and… “Are you gonna get in, kid? I’m waiting for that dude,” the driver said, pointing at the smoking man, “but I can quickly drive you.”
“I’m coming,” replied Sam, cautiously opening the door and stepping inside the taxi.
“Where did you say you wanted to go?” the driver asked quickly.
“Fairy Road,” Sam replied, shutting the door behind them. There was no going back now.
After a few minutes, Sam noticed they were heading back in the direction of their school where they had come from.
“We’re going the wrong way!” Sam exclaimed in realisation. The driver said nothing.
“Hey. Stop! Please! Kidnapping is a crime!” Sam yelled. They fumbled in their pocket for their phone, but alas. Of course today was the one day when they forgot their phone. They started panicking. They could either try to open the door or scream loudly or attack the driver. They casually tried to open the door, but in vain! The driver had locked the door. Their only way out now, would be to attack the driver. They lunged forwards and grabbed the driver.
The car began to swerve from the road. It crashed off the street and onto the pavement.
“What are you doing?” came the driver’s yell. “We’re going to crash!” Frantically, Sam pressed down the button to open the window. The window slowly opened.
“Help!” they screamed at the top of their voice! Unfortunately, it was too late. The car crashed into one of the nearby shops, shattering all the glass in the window.
Sam lay startled on the ground, blood surrounding them. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better if they had just walked. “What. On. Earth. Were. You. Doing. Child?!!” The driver furiously yelled. “Now I’m in this mess”, he gestured towards the car, “Because of you!” He yelled, spitting out the last word.
Fortunately for both of them, the hospital just happened to be opposite them on the other side of the road: medics rushed out to help them. Sam was bruised, but he was not badly hurt. One of the medics was phoning the police. “We’ve had a car crash, a taxi with an adult and child crashed right outside Our Medics Hospital.”
“Are you ok?” the paramedic asked Sam. “Can you give me your parent's number so I can call them, please. Let me help you up”, she said. “Now, how are you feeling?”
“Not too great. I think I'm just recovering from the shock,” Sam replied.
“Ok. Can I just have your guardian's number please?”
“Ok,” Sam uncertainly said and began to dictate the number.
“Thanks! I’ll call them now”, the paramedic said with a reassuring smile. ‘Beeep. Beeep Beep’, the phone rang.
“Hello? Your child has been in a car incident outside Our Medics Hospital. Please could you come here as soon as possible to pick them up and take them home.” The medic put the the phone down. “Your mother’s coming, she’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Oh no. Could it not have been their father that came? Sam had to face their mother straight on, in ten minutes. They racked their brains for the best arguments he could come up with. Here they were, standing in the rain, once again. Rain, Sam decided, is not that bad after all.
They waited and worried. They would have to come up with a good reason why they decided to take the taxi. And that would be hard. Their parents had specifically told them a while back that they were not meant to take a taxi alone as they could be kidnapped.
Three minutes passed. Five minutes passed and then ten minutes. Their mum had still not arrived. It was fifteen minutes after the call when she finally showed up. However, unlike Sam’s expectations, she was all tears and no anger.
“Sam,” she gasped between sobs as she got out of her car. “I’m so glad you’re ok.”
“Mum… I’m so sorr…”, Sam said, trying to apologise.
“Stop. You know you did something wrong and I do too. But you’re safe now and that’s all that matters,” she said through choked sobs. Both mother and child were hugging each other and weeping in relief that Sam was ok and weeping to get rid of the worry they had.
Once she had filled out the forms required by the hospital, Sam’s mum was free to take them home.
Later that night, the rain began to pour again. This time, Sam was inside. Soon, Sam fell asleep. The next day, they woke up to a snow-covered town of pure white…