Eevee's Writing Archive <3

Hello! I'm Eevee and welcome to my archive of writings for SWC July 2022! I am a camper in Real-fi, with my leaders being Lily, Gee, and Amy! Feel free to leave critiques on my profile

Table of Context
——————————♕——————————

Word goal: 13299/15,000
- Checkpoint #1: 7/11 5,000
- Checkpoint #2 7/23 10,000
- Checkpoint #3 7/_ 15,000

~Dailies~

July 4
July 10
July 11
July 13
July 14
July 24
July 25
July 28

~Weeklies~

Week 2
Week 4

~Word Wars~

7/27 @Sandy-Dunes ()

~Other~

TBD
TBD
TBD

kitty's writing folder

dailies

weeklies

word wars

rift challenges

Amethyst’s Writing Thread

Amethyst’s current message:
Don’t tickle a sleeping dragon

Dailies

Daily #1
N/A

Daily #2 ● Bittersweet ● 917 words
Fernpaw peeked briefly over Snowpaw’s back, glancing at Dapplepaw for a millisecond before switching his gaze to the messy, scrawled ground in front of him. A slight pink appeared on his cheeks, and Snowpaw giggled, nudging Fernpaw with her nose on his shoulder and shooting a furtive glance at him.
“Stop it,” Fernpaw growled with clenched teeth, and when that didn’t help, he added, “D’you really want me to act like that with you around Finpaw?”
Snowpaw was silenced immediately, and now it was Fernpaw’s turn to laugh. He stopped abruptly, however, when a beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat rose from her spot, carrying the speckless remains of her meal with her.
Dapplepaw crossed the dusty clearing with such grace and dignity that it felt like she had rehearsed those steps. His mouth started to gape a little as halfway across the clearing, she passed one of her friends, and she tilted back her curly head to laugh — in, of course, a gracious manner.
When Dapplepaw reached the tunnel and smoothly walked through, her sweet, cherry-smelling scent still lingered in the clearing and subconsciously Fernpaw appreciated the smell, whilst Snowpaw couldn’t hold it in anymore and dissolved into laughter.
Fernpaw flicked Snowpaw’s head with his thin tail and rose to his feet, his hunger forgotten. “Hey, wanna- uh- go hunting?”
His best friend gave a nod, trying her best to fight down her chortles as she followed Fernpaw out of the clearing.
—-
Fernpaw crept quietly along a well-trodden path, all his senses pricked for picking up any sign or movement from prey. A slight rustling was to his right, and he crawled quietly towards it, pressing his pads down slowly and softly to minimise the crunching noise of leaves under his paw-pads.
At last, he saw it — a medium-sized, furry shape burrowing deep into leaves, searching for nuts, as he had anticipated. He bent back his pale-brown paws backwards, almost as though he was stretching, and leapt — a feeling of power and freedom pulsing through his body, his heart, his veins, fuelling him as he brought his paws powerfully down onto the unsuspecting animal, curling in his claws, a jolt of satisfaction as he caught his plump prey running through his body.
“Well done,” a voice said quietly behind him, and a tendril of sweet cherry scent reached down and practically booped him on the nose.
“D-Dapplepaw?” He stuttered. “Oh- uh- hai!”
“That was a good catch!” An, of course, graceful smile lit up her already stunning features. “The Clan will be well fed tonight.”
“Thanks!” Nervousness felt like a distant memory. Dapplepaw, of all cats, was complimenting him!
“By the way,” Dapplepaw said with a small jerk of her head. “Snowpaw’s hunting near the ravine. You might want to watch her. It’s dangerous over there, I told her, that she could fall easily, but she insisted and said she smelt lots of prey.”
Fernpaw nodded, hiding the slight bit of worry in him. “Thanks for telling me. Wanna come help me find her?”
“Sure!” Dapplepaw’s breath was warming up his frigid pelt. “Follow me, she’s this way.”
—-
The landscape around them was a blur as they pelted towards the ravine, their pads touching down as quietly and softly on the ground as possible before taking off again. Fernpaw was sure that Snowpaw would be fine — after all, she was good at balancing with such a long tail — but he still wanted to check.
As they gradually slowed down, the scent of Snowpaw pressed against his scent glands and he stopped. He followed her scent trail cautiously until he finally came to the very edge of the ravine, and gasped. Snowpaw was chasing a huge pheasant through the thick bushes, quicker than Fernpaw thought was possible. The pair disappeared for a moment, but then the pheasant suddenly emerged out through a pair of thickets facing the drop and launched itself out onto the ravine, not noticing the sheer ravine. Snowpaw, obviously thinking that they were going to emerge somewhere safer, leapt out after the pheasant, who was now flapping its snail-paced, huge wings desperately, slowing down the momentum.
But Fernpaw, with no such wings, fell like a stone. She screeched in time to see Fernpaw, who was poised at the top of the cliff, then let out a sigh he couldn’t here, her trademark smile, a mouthed “good-bye”, before her tiny body was crushed by the ground rushing up to meet her.
No. No. NO. It couldn’t be happening. Fernpaw ran towards the better way to go down — a gentle slope that met the ground of the ravine — and sprinted over to Fernpaw’s broken, delicate body. The ghost of her last smile was still on her face.
“I’m sorry, I’m so-” Dapplepaw’s tear-stricken face appeared in the corner of her vision, and she nuzzled Fernpaw comfortingly, and somehow, incredibly, and he hated himself for it, he felt the lightest, tiniest, slightest feeling of delight on the physical contact, which was immediately swallowed by guilt. Snowpaw, his best friend…
—-
Many moons and years later, Dappleleaf and Fernshade sat side-by-side, tails entwined, gazing up at the stars. The shock and pain of loosing Snowpaw so suddenly still dug in Fernshade’s side. But Dappleleaf being his mate had softened the blow.
Fernshade looked up at the brightest star, which was undoubtedly Snowpaw, running around freely in the fields of StarClan. Nostalgia and bittersweetness followed the smell of earth after rain.

Daily #3 ● Long-held Grudges ● 377 words

I’m not very happy with this XP

“NO, definitely NOT!”
Krthu winced, taking a step back. “I-I’m sorry, what did I do?”
Guilt swarmed over me as I watched the poor girl struggle to talk with her ex-friend. I was standing in the shadows, being a perfectly normal person who was definitely not eavesdropping on them (I mean, I didn’t WANT to) and definitely not overhearing a quarrel with one side raising their voice and the other one being earnest-quiet.
“You INTERRUPTED ME SO MANY TIMES, I’m SICK of it!”
Shali’s face was contorted into a pure expression of fury and arrogance. Her sleek black hair rested on her shoulder, her black eyes cold and angry.
The Indian girl clenched her jaws, but seemed to think the better of it, shot an angry look at Shali, and walked away, her expression clearly hiding something
—-
“You look like a parrot.” A girl shot across the table they were working on towards Krthu, who winced, but glared definitely straight back.
“Thanks, I love parrots.”
“An ugly parrot.”
“Oh, stop it!” I half-growled at the offending girl. “What did Krthu ever do to you?”
Sahara jutted her chin out. “A lot, thanks.”
“What, exactly?”
“In Grade 2,” Sahara said immediately. “She touched my keychain, wriggled around with it, and had a go with my poppit.”
“It was a few bubbles! I’ve already told you, I’m sorry-” Her voice faded away at Sahara’s menacing gaze, but after recovering, she plunged on, “and, that was literally four years ago!”
“I don’t believe you changed,” Sahara, a usually kind and lovely girl, seemed determined to rat Krthu for a tiny, minor grudge over so many years- I could scarcely believe it.
—-
“You alright, Krthu?”
The Indian girl suppressed a sniff. “Oh, yeah,” she said in a breezy tone, half smiling at me.
“You sure?”
“Well, aside from the fact that I’ve been held against for something that happened four years ago that I already apologised for and my ‘friend’ trying to turn the whole world against me, I think I’m going brilliantly.”
I laughed. “Hey, wanna join my group at lunch?”
Krthu’s eyes brightened. “Sure! Thanks!”
As the lunch break bell ran, we both half-ran down the stairs to secure a good spot to eat.

Daily #4 ● Ambiguity Vs Vagueness ● 580 words altogether for below text
A Karen With Ambiguity:
“Oh, GOSH, that was horrible, I nearly died from- that was the most, UPMOST horrible pair of matches I’ve ever seen, TWO IN A ROW, they just DIDN’T WANT TO WORK IN MY FAVOUR, HUH?”
“Understandable, ma’am. Now back to the menu, are you interested in-”
“Not gonna lie, you’re better than yesterday, but only a tiny bit better, they wouldn’t address me properly, it was like talking to a WALL, and I really wanted to say, oh my GOSH, what is WRONG with YOU, I told you MULTIPLE times-”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I must ask you to-”
“YES?! What is so URGENT that you MUST INTERRUPT ME?”
“Well-”
“Anyway, there was this HORRIBLE thing yesterday, my husband claims it was just an ACCIDENT, that they didn’t mean to ruin the outside pavement but seriously- BROKEN PIECES LYING EVERYWHERE? NOISES THAT SEEP WHEN I’M TRYING TO LISTEN TO MUSIC?”
“Ma’am, please calm-”
“What IS THAT BAND! WHY- DID YOU PAY MONEY FOR THOSE WRETCHED BANDS?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! I can LITERALLY SEE THOSE BANDS! Those- thingies, they’re SO TIGHT- it makes me wanna SCREAM, why are those things even in A HIGH-CLASS RESTAURANT?”
“Is there trouble, ma’am-”
“Who are YOU?!”
“I’m currently in charge of this section, I notified many noises from here. What’s wrong?”
“URGH WHERE DO I START? Those bands, they’re EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM makes me WANNA SCREAM! And worst of all, I ORDERED, WHERE-?!”
“You didn’t order anything from here yet, ma’am-”
“I’m not talking to YOU, you DISAPPOINTMENT OF A WAITRESS, even anyone with HALF A BRAIN CELL CAN TELL. I ordered some PEOPLE TO COME so they can give me a FEW INSIGHTS INTO THIS MENU! Why, you expect me to AUTOMAGICALLY KNOW what tastes GOOD?!”
> 295 words

A Regular Person With Vagueness:
“Hey there. Yesterday wasn’t the best, was it?”
“No. So many disappointments in one day.”
“But, we must look to the future with brightness, like he told us. He’s wise, I’m sure he knows everything there is.”
“Surely not everything.”
“But still. You’ve seen what he can do.”
“He may hold things some people can’t-”
“Have you seen the footy today?”
“Why?”
“‘bout as great as apples.”
“I’m not sure whether I know what you’re talking about, Wi-”
“Oh, did I tell you? I got in, and now I’m going to mop the floor with him, that trademark thing of his will be gone.”
“Will be hard.”
“Won’t be at all. He could barely stare down a fly when everyone was being crazy.”
“William, I really, REALLY don’t get what you’re talking about. Sometimes I think you’re not thinking the same thing as I am.”
“Mirrored exactly. Trust is the way though. Squeeze out darkness. Squeeze out the dark depression of water, if it is. Leave only good behind.”
“WILLIAM, seriously. It actually kind of really, really annoys me. Can you PLEASE try to be clear for ONCE?”
“Eyes. They will slit, but they will come back up.”
“This is just getting worse and worse, urgh, just stop WILL.”
“Words will sometimes leave deep grooves, red and black will swallow. These are the wise words passed down like wise knowledges passed from hand to hand.”
“Honestly. We started out alright. At least I knew what you were talking about. Now, I feel like you’re becoming crazy-”
“As correct as the fact that oranges are orange.”
“Boy, what is you’re obsession with oranges-”
>272 words

Daily #5 ● Gone right or wrong? ● 757 words
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single footstep.
Or, as Chris would call it, A journey of a thousands light years begins with a takeoff.
A collection of droplets beaded his forehead, and before long, he was starting to sweat profusely, nausea, doubt and fear rising inside him, a black hole sucking any positive emotion away.
Why, why, why in a million years did he agree to do this? Why had he let his reckless, curious nature take his sensible voice away? He clutched the sides of his comfortable leather chair, trying hard not to vomit as the knobs and buttons flashed the sunlight into his damp face, and he covered himself in a readymade towel, fresh and soft, and let the sweat soak into it.
I shouldn’t have volunteered— no amount of money or payment is going to pay off the result if I get blasted into pieces by the pressure of the atmosphere — and the spaceship along with it!
True, it was safe to say that if he survived this he would have enough money to physically fill at least a thousand Olympic-sized pools with his earnings and rewards. Not to mention what happened afterward — fame, publicity.
But he would give up all that to just be able to walk back down the aluminium, automatically-controlled staircase that lay down to Mother Earth’s comforting arms.
The loud, magnified ticking of a timer boomed through the intercom. “Welcome, all drivers, all testers — you brave three will be remembered upon generations of generations! Everyone, please make Jake McColl, Chris Lostrin and Emily Watto feel as welcome as possible for their generosity and bravery for taking the test.
As soon as his name — Chris Lostrin — was called out, a wave of homesickness and longing tugged him. And it nearly literally pulled him out through the ajar door as the rest of his crew was called out. Somehow it was worse and better to think he was heading towards this nearly-imminent danger looming above their heads with other humans.
A shower of the most loud cheering and clapping he had ever heard filled the spaceship, both through the crackly intercom and through the open door. Steam shot from the ceiling near, a billowing cloud clearing any type of weak parasite or sickness that might try to infect their lives up at space. The cheering turned into a deafening roar of praise and thunderous applause as the woman speaking through the intercom struggled to make herself heard.
“In exactly TWO MINUTES,” she boomed, and everyone fell silent. “History will be made, thanks to these three brave-hearted, good-spirited chaps, JAKE MCCOLL, CHRIS LOSTRIN AND EMILY WATTO! Remember that no matter what happens, we will always remember you.”
A few seconds of silence passed, before the crowd outside the spaceship roared with agreement.
“Goodness,” he said faintly.
“ONE MINUTE!” The woman announced.
The ticking of the timer grew even louder than the crowd outside, at least in Chris’ ears.
Then the crowd rose to count down together.
“EIGHT… SEVEN… SIX… FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…”
Chris swallowed, then looked through the window at the huge crowd outside. They were out there, cheering for his crew, and HIM!
“ONE!”
Flames roared to life and the spaceship shot upwards, creating an ear-splitting blast. Ears popping, eyes watering, Chris clutched the edge of his seat even harder and stared outside his window. The crowd was quickly swallowed by the vastness of the world, the clouds nothing more than blankets of white… flames flicked around them, but the spaceship fought back… there was a shout of triumph from the intercom.
“BRILLIANT, ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!”
And suddenly they were there, the earth was just a ball, revolving slowly, brilliant and large, but nothing compared to everything around them. The sun flickered, the moon which was on the other side glowed, and the stars shone with light.
But as Chris let those words of excitement soak him, he thought of one thing before he realised something was wrong.
A journey of a thousands light years begins with a takeoff.
Then he saw it.
It was a tiny detail, one that most people had skated over, perhaps a few miscalculations of pressure and counterbalance and what-not, but something must’ve gone wrong.
A journey of a thousands light years may end with a simple crack.
The “impenetrable” glass had severed, and the pressure space tugged it until it cracked. Fire found its home.

Daily #6 ● Explosion ● 574 words

Note: I have no experience with therapy or anything like that, please don’t take this seriously. It’s meant to be confusing and random too, and is not aimed to be grammatically correct; rather the opposite, in fact. Thank you!

Oh, no. There it was. The wave of emotion. Clutching me hard and more powerfully than a swift punch. My urge to let it out was even more. Can barely hold it. Can’t… hold it.
A sharp intake, in, and then out. Ignoring the smug looks. Again, and again. Hold it in. A literal earthquake seizing control of my ribs. Try to banish it. Didn’t work.
Fingers curving in like the talons of a bird, imagining those looks to be squashed inside. Again and again. Therapy barely works. Don’t know why people like to use it.
“Would you like me to say it again?”
Mocking. Fake-concern coats the edge of the words.
Don’t let it erupt. But despite that continuous saying in my head…
Many things happened. Anger. Red. Slashing. Curled out claws — they are claws and not my hands and they will control everything and never hold back anything and I will express all, teeth glinting, eyes glaring and nothing can stop me-
“What are you DOING?!”
A shriek. Seething with anger, I turn around, my talons-of-fingers, flexing lightly.
“Wanna say it again, now,” Breathe in and out during the words. Keep it mildly-toned, though that’s hard.
“You! Literally! Made! Me! Bleed!”
“Isn’t that hard when you’re a wimp.” Satisfaction twisted my face.
Her simpering band of followers do that hurt-gasp thing and glared at me.
Idiot girl struggled to her feet. A clean, neat cut weeping across her red cheeks. “Try that again!”
“Really?” I tilted my head.
Idiot girl took a step back. “Well-”
“I’m SICK of it,” I announced, my face twisting into something rather ugly. “I’ve held it all year, sometimes letting it out monthly, but I’m SICK of HAVING TO CONTAIN IT! Therapy this, therapy that, it won’t help with BOTTLING A LITERAL VOLCANO INSIDE YOU! Wanna TRY, HUH?”
Idiot girl and simpering followers stop.
“I mean it, and I SWEAR, if ANY OF YOU tell ANYONE ELSE of me lashing out, you can EXPECT TROUBLE!”
“Lila, what’s happened-”
“Therapy practically wants me to SIT AND NOD and SMILE and STAND ASIDE! That’s what I’VE BEEN DOING! But if you START TO TRY TO PUSH ME AROUND, don’t expect me TO JUST STEP ASIDE AND- AND NOD! I’ve said this before, but I’m SICK OF IT! SICK of just AGREEING AND KEEPING EVERYTHING DOWN! None of you, NONE OF YOU AT ALL HAVE SEEN ME LIKE THIS, JUDGING BY YOUR EXPRESSIONS! But they HAPPEN, just like they happen to EVERYONE WHO IS DECENT AND NOT JUST A STANDING-ASIDE MINION LIKE YOU GUY ARE TO LILY!”
Lila and Lily. One known to be, as some might say, a “shy, sit-and-nod girl”, and the ofher to be a “bully who thinks she’s popular”. Quite amazing, our outside personality differences were, when all the difference in our names are a single vowel.
“Plus, I’m an AQUARIUS, have you not seen WHAT EVERYONE IS SAYING ON THE INTERNET?! The time for AQUARIUSES TO LET OUT THEIR FEELINGS and NOT FEEL BAD ABOUT IT HAS COME!”
“You believe in that-” Lily made a face, which was quickly wiped off by me. “You believe in that kind of superstition?”
“Well,” I said, jutting out her chin. “One might say that everything they say about Aquariuses apply to me, always, at least under my outside personality.”
And with that, I walked away, leaving everyone quite shell-shocked.

Took a very long hiatus off SWC. Will be trying to make up for it.

Daily #15 ● Le L’il Riding Hood ● 942 words
A bright red hood bobbed up and down through the undergrowth, oblivious to the dark shape closely following its every mood. A neatly-woven basket filled with apples swung from a cherry-coloured jacket, and with a rather large swing, the top one toppled out of the basket, right in front of the creature’s glowering face.
“Hi!” The girl said, apparently oblivious to the fact that a literal wolf was glaring at her. “Whoa, who are you?”
“Oh, I’m your uncle’s friend,” the wolf said sarcastically. “Who might you be?”
The girl frowned. “My… uncle? How do you know my uncle? Are you like, best friends with my uncle, or just hang-out buddies?”
The wolf could’ve facepalmed itself, but decided to play along with the silly girl. “Never mind that. He was a great man. What’s your name?”
“L’il Red Riding Hood,” the girl said, making a face. “But just call me Anne. It’s much shorter.”
“Well, Anne, where might you be headed?”
Anne pointed down the track that went on for as far as the wolf could see.
“What’s your name?”
The wolf thought about that for a moment. He was commonly known as “The Big Bad Wolf”, since everyone had some kind of warped idea of how evil he was and titled him with such a cheesy name.
“Jjjjjjjack,” he said finally. “You know, Anne, it does look like a REALLY long way down that path. Want me to, uh, come with you?”
Stranger danger, a voice inside his head said in a sing-song voice, and he had to suppress a smirk.
Anne beamed. “Sure! Want an apple?”
“Oh. No.” Jack, as he called himself, looked away from Anne. “I don’t… eat fruit. I don’t eat what most humans eat, in fact…”
Anne shrugged, and popped one in her mouth and appeared to swallow it whole.
Silence descended on both of them as they descended down the path. Anne had an annoying habit of leaping up and slapping any low-lying branches, and Jack finally snapped.
“STOP IT!” He snapped, whirling around. His teeth were huge, and they glinted.
Anne jumped up in slight alarm, but then, she calmed down and her expression was quite nonchalant. “Why?”
“Why? BECAUSE, YOU LITTLE-” Jack forced himself to snap his jaws shut. He needed to be led to human civilisation. This girl was gullible enough to lead him into it. But surely even the most stupidest girl on the planet would have the sense to run off if a wolf throws a tantrum at them. So he stopped talking, and kept walking, as did Anne.
After a bit, Anne stopped. “Here we are.”
“Hey-o, L’il Hood!” a cheery voice called.
A girl with sparkling blonde hair and warm blue eyes welcomed the little girl, then noticed Jack. “Oh man. Why is the Big Bad Wolf here?”
Arggghhhhh, Jack HATED that name.
“Me name’s not Big Bad Wolf,” he said, with a rather weird accent. “It’s Jack.”
“Maybe ‘Big Bad Wolf’ isn’t your actual name,” the new girl said, then reached into her pocket. She pulled out a huge, photographed, black-and-white photo of a little girl with a red riding hood standing with her grandmother, and watching a lumberjack chasing out a wolf, that had looked around at the exact right moment for the camera to catch its face. “But your faces are identical with the wolf in the photograph. And you both do have a liking for girls with riding hoods, don’t you.” Her eyes twinkled slightly, but she looked ready for a fight if she needed to.
“No, it must be a coincidence,” Jack protested.
“Your face doesn’t lie. After being in the front-line for fan-fi for so long, it’s easy to see the expression and creases and lines that all add to something — are they telling the truth, or are they lying?”
“Fan-fi?”
“Fan-fiction. Fan-fiction Republic. Whatever you call it.” She rolled her eyes. “In this campsite, we have a bunch of cabins. And we do all sorts of cool stuff. We’re all part of SWC — Scratch Writing Camp. So we definitely know the story of Red Riding Hood. And this might be a different Red Riding Hood, the one who attends SWC, but I have a feeling you want to attempt the thing you tried to do on the original Red Riding Hood on this one, the one that attends fan-fiction.”
“I’m not that dumb, you know,” Anne said conversationally. “I knew I couldn’t stop you by myself, so I pretended to act stupid and like the original Red Riding Hood. Aaand here at fan-fi, we look out for each other. So this is perfect.”
At that exact moment, one of the fifteen cabins burst open and a literal stream of people walked out. Their faces were all equally patronising and threatening-looking towards the wolf, and Jack took one look at them, and decided that he couldn’t keep up attacking young girls, and decided to find a good cave and eat veggies for the rest of his life. So he ran off immediately. He took in his surroundings properly for the first time — there was a huge bonfire in the centre, surrounded by cabins in an ‘o’ shape, beyond the cabins were cities, a restaurant, was that a MAZE- but he didn’t stay to check or even ponder on what the heck that was, and left his reputation and SWC behind.
“Fan-fiction for the win!” The voices broke out through the clearing, then cheering shook the earth.

Daily #16 ● Betrayal of a Decade ● 618 words
I can’t believe he would do something like this. The grief tore my heart like my tattered clothes, and I let out a quiet, agonised moan. I had been hoodwinked by his charm. His casual flick of his blonde hair, his soft smile, the way his blue eyes twinkled when he look at me… argh, why would he?
But just a few minutes ago I was having a walk when I heard footsteps behind me. I whirled around, fists clenched, and came in face with Lucas, who was wielding a sharp spear.
“Lucas?” I said uncertainly.
He gripped his spear. “What scared?”
“Are you joking… or something?”
“Hah. No. I’ve grown impatient. So let’s make this quick, shall we. I need not delve into explanations. So here is the future in short: my King shall triumph over everyone. But in the process, no one should know. You are an obvious enemy, a threat to his success.”
I took a step back, my eyes widening. “Lucas- what?”
“I was never on your side,” Lucas smirked. He flicked his hair the way he did, but my eyes saw nothing except that smirk on his face. “You think I would like someone like you? Your battle skills are horrid, you can barely fight, you can’t even hold a shield properly! But you’re brainy even if you’re scrawny, and you might piece together what I was planning. But still. I saw the way you looked at me. You were obviously hoodwinked by my disguise. Simply PATHETIC.”
“Lucas…”
“Final words before you die?”
Anger flashed in my body, and before I knew it, my arms were taking control of me, and I didn’t have to do anything before my fist smashed powerfully on Lucas’ nose. I seized the spear, and held it above Lucas, who as panting, glaring at me with a malicious glint in his eyes.
“You’d really do it?” He said, grinning slightly. “Like the worm you are, with no backbone. You wouldn’t k!ll if your life depended on it.”
I hesitated, and that moment was all Lucas needed, he lashed out at me with his feet and sprinted off before anyone could catch him. I cried out in anger, but he was gone, and I was left, shocked, beside a splatter of bl0od and a dented spear.
“Lucas… why?” I murmured, before pulling my knees into my face and started crying.
Call me weak and a crybaby as you will, but Lucas had been my best friend since I was six. And I’m seventeen right now, alright? We literally knew everything about each other- I knew him better than my parents!
At least I thought I did.
I thought he was hilarious. And kind. And smart. You don’t know how much we got up to — together. Rescuing baby birds who fell from their nests, picking flowers then showing them off in the weekly festival… tears pricked my eyes again.
And with a flash, over a decade of friendship had crumbled in a mere second, with just a bit of explanation and a spear poised to k!ll me, he had escaped.
You think I would like someone like you? Lucas had said to me.
Well… he had been my best friend… and I thought I saw a similar sparkle in his eyes whenever he saw me that I had for him…
Anger pricked me, and the tears stopped coming. His betrayal was horrific. I stood up, picking up the spear. He might be able to run off, and maybe I couldn’t catch him yet, but I’d train a lot, and one day, I’d get my revenge on him.
He would regret betraying me.

Daily #17 ● Critique Daily!
Critique This - 759 Words

Harry Potter fan-fic that’s month old which I nearly forgot about XD

It all began when an owl swooped past the window.
A quarter to six, read the clock. Get working.
Amethyst hastily scribbled out the misspelled “acopolyse” and replaced it with “apocalypse”. Her crow-feather quill was stained with bits of black ink that made it even darker, the liquid flicking onto Amethyst’s face. She flinched away, her brown hair swishing and knocking the ink well onto the ground. The ink slowly seeped through the fabrics of her new carpet, staining the pastel purple a wet black.
“Mum!” Amethyst called, sighing. “Another ink-emergency.”
Her mother ran into her bedroom, her hand already clutching a fresh paper towel. She swung the door wide open, so ferociously that it nearly flew off it’s hinges. Spotting the pool of black, she growled underneath her breath and started forwards,
“Amethyst! Stop being so clumsy!” Alys fussed, crouching down and pressing the paper to the carpet. Barely anything absorbed the white paper. She shook it and glared at Amethyst. “This has happened too many times! STOP. IT.”
“I’m not doing intentionally.” Amethyst squawked indignantly. She let the other words she wanted to add to into silence, You wouldn’t be this firm with Tom! Amethyst had to grab the nearest chair leg to calm herself down.
And then, a fiery spark flittered from her fingertips. Although it was only a flimsy flare, her mother jumped backwards with a yelp.
She knew she should’ve felt bad about scaring her mother, but instead it gave her a twinge of malicious satisfaction. It took all her effort to not grin. Ha! She wanted to yell at Alys.
Murderous hatred gleamed from Alys. “You’re cursed.” She whispered, nearly dramatically, so that Amethyst would’ve laughed if not for the words themself. “You’re dangerous. You have no right to be in this family.”
Of course. Amethyst suppressed herself from rolling her eyes. The only reason that Amethyst hadn’t yet been kicked out of the house was because her father Hari had not let her. It wasn’t done out of affection, of course, but it was Hari’s position as Lord Mayor to make sure everyone was safe, especially his own family.
Despite cold silences and rare knife-sharp words from her father, he still kept her cosy and fed.
Which she should be more grateful for, really.
“I do.” She said stoutly. “I have a place in this family, as your only daughter.”
Alys scoffed. “You can sleep on the couch, tonight,” she said immediately, “With no blanket. Be grateful it’s not outside.”
Fury ignited in her stomach. “Why?”
“For talking back.” Alys replied curtly. She dumped the dirty paper towel on her bedroom ground and moved to leave. Just before she closed her door, Alys added, “You are no daughter of mine.”
There. Those were the words. Even though the door slammed shut, her mixed, welled emotions rose up. She imagined small lightning, flicking from her fingertips. Light streamed out of her hands flickering sometimes. The dark room was lighted.
After about a dozen seconds, her anger and confusion settled. With no strong feelings to feed the angry creature, the light died down. She curled into the blankets of her bed and wept.
The tears flowed from her eyes, damp and on touch making her skin smoother. They were creamy light blue, and unusual, as they took a lot of time to dry off. Blinking back tears, she stood up beside her bed. Then it all happened at once.
“SQUAWK!”
“ARGH!”
Leaping onto her feet, she grabbed her quill and brandished it as if it was an iron knife. Forcing her thumping heart to calm down, she breathed in, and out, and back in, like Ms Brownie had told her.
Something soft and like a ball of fluff pelted into her. She grabbed it and held it gingerly, an arm length, away from her. It squawked and shook its fur… no, its feathers.
Two large, amber eyes blinked at her and clicked it’s beak. The owl thrust a talon out and was revealed to possess a yellowed-piece of paper. Written neatly on it was Amethyst Brownfield, the Attic, Number 71 Greenville Street.
In shock of what happened, Amethyst still managed to narrow her eyes. “Someone’s sent a letter to me?” Amethyst only had one friend - Rowan Acelyter, who was a lean, tanned-skinned girl, and a few weeks ago had been whisked away to a private school. She’d gotten letters from her occasionally, but not that often.
And the letter had words which were way to neat to be Rowan’s.

Me Critique-ing

Bridget was supposed to be organizing some bills and other various papers her mother had plopped down in front of her about an hour earlier, but she was tired of sorting through her mom's growing collection of papers she couldn't just yet get rid of.

Nice start! This immediately spawned questions in my head, and wanted me to keep moving on. Even without any drama or exciting points in the first sentence. You nudge the reader to keep reading. However, the sentence does feel a little too long. Here’s my version, edited a bit, with a tiny bit more show and tell:

Bridget stifled a yawn into her palm, then glanced down at the pile of paper. Her mother had left the papers with Bridget, who was now whole-heartedly sick of sorting through her mom’s growing collection of papers; her mom never seemed to be able to get rid off anything, even paper.

Moving on to the next sentences:

Her mom was obsessive like that, she never wanted to throw anything away. Bridget had been stuck at home all summer during her mom's chores and she was sick and tired of it. She wanted to go out and do something fun. She wanted to go on an adventure. She sighed, she wished she could do something with her summer this year. It looked like it was just going to be another boring summer of staying at home longing to go back to school while all of her friends went off on cool vacations and traveled all over the world.

Here I’m starting to realise there’s a lot of tell not show - yes, I said that right. I will acknowledge the paragraph does invite the reader to be interested in what Bridget might want to do, but it feels like the flow is a bit chunky; etc when you said “she was sick and tired of it”, although when used appropriately (which is hard) it can emphasise a point well, I think that using it there is a bit much; one word should suffice.There is a few grammatical stuff in there I might want to fix, but that’s me being the fussy-person I am. Here’s my recreation:

Her mom was obsessive like that; she never wanted to throw anything away. Bridget glanced longingly outside her room’s window. One thing about doing the same, mind-gnawing chore over and over again was that it concentrated a strong will in her mind, that she felt with every movement of her hands across bill sheets.
She wanted to go on an adventure.
She had been stuck at home all summer during her mom's chores, and she was thoroughly tired of it. In her mind, she pictured her friends going off on cool vacations to theme parks and islands, whilst she was stuck in another boring summer, staying home. If she kept this up, the only thing Bridget with have to share with her friends were her struggles with getting her dog, Ruby, to take a bath.

One thing I noticed whilst writing this is that breaking up the paragraph establishes a bit more drama and flow, in a way. Maybe that’s just me, but I think that it works. Instead of having a huge paragraph with 10 sentences, break it up with each subject. If you do this often you’ll start to get the hang of it.
Ruby sounds like my dog lol

Sorry, but I’m going to end it here as I’m already over 524 words of the 200 word minimum. Your story was really nice, CynthiaIz! Just keep in mind the next time you right of the things I mentioned.

Thanks for reading XD
Also I’m excited to be working with you for SMC :D

Daily #21 ● Le Poetry of Senses ● 102 words

Clean, purified air
Brushes past gentler than snow
The warmth of the sun in winter
Here, my body has no foe

Sweet, nectar fragrance
Wrapping the air with beauty and grace
Touch of gentle sweet, buds tingle
I smile gently on my face

Calm, tweeting songs
Many melodies blending together as one
Swelling peace and prosperity
Chirps brighter than the sun

Together, the elements rejoice far in nature
But avoid the areas touched by pollution
In our world, where there’s nothing but a maze of concrete
Do you think us and nature have hope for reunion?

Don’t you think we should try?

Daily #23 ● Settings Centuries Apart
By Wishingdeer
The badlands of Nox are an infamous place, where the sun always seems a little dimmer, no matter the time if day. The ground is compromised primarily of hard, dark purple stones, which also climb into the sky in intimidating, natural towers. The air is dry, and full of purple sand. The only animals who live here are those specially adapted to the cruel environment, and they are few.

100 years later (by me)
(366 words)
The people in the Badlands of Nox still look at the sky in half-amazement and confusion. The air is swelteringly not, but the sky is dark. Smog would fill the air, even though there were no factories or natural spas anyone around the twisted land.
Of course, this is mostly due to the rest of the world wrecking the planet’s atmosphere and k!lling off all the trees. Not that there were any trees in the Badlands in the first place anyway - the ground was comprised of smooth, dark purple stones, which sometimes climbed into the sky into intimidating, natural towers.
The people of the Badlands of Nox don’t have any meat to eat; animals had long since been extinct. There was no dirt in the ground. All previous buildings aimed to produce easier food had crumbled after decades of negligence.
But the easiest way to get food was to venture into the dangerous - yes, I said dangerous - Ancient Mines of the Nox. Inside, there are sometimes edible rocks - a lucky person would find a fist-sized, glowing purple stone which at least tasted like a sour apple; most rocks weren’t the tastiest, but still food - There was practically no other way of eating anything.
Some people said, along these lines; “long ago, there was food. A lot of it. But then the people outside Nox decided they would do anything for this thing called ‘money’, and then food ceased. There used to be a saying, they say; ‘once the last tree has fallen, once the last mountain destroyed, once the last fish caught; that’s when people will realise they cannot eat money.’ But apparently that saying didn’t reach enough ears.”
There are desperate attempts of building in Nox, which all ended in failure. It wouldn’t take long for you to come across a lump of hacked-out stone and gorges in the ground.
But thanks to Nox’s fire-resistant and un-meltable ground, Nox is resistant to most of the struggles the outside world is enduring; such as fires, huge tidal waves, and ice melting for the few who have colonised Antartica.
Some might say that Nox is in a far better position than others.

Weeklies

Folder - Weekly 1
Grande total: 3677 words
—- Part 1, Consistent Characters
—Spoiler Alert for most Wings of Fire Books—
Character reference sheet for Peril the SkyWing from Wings of Fire
Series continuing or ended?: Presumed Continuing

Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: unconfirmed, however appears straight
Species: dragon

Strengths: powerful (has firescales), motivation of protecting crush, loyal
(former) strengths: confident, independent, keeps information close to his chest
Weaknesses: impulsive, not stealthy
(former) weaknesses: rash, selfish, guilty

General view of life: hopeless/no particular meaning, just do her routine; transforms into hopeful; transforms into good view of live, happy (if that makes sense lol)

Relationships:
- romantic interest:Clay the MudWing
- close friends: Qibli, Moon, Winter(?), Kinkajou (?), Turtle,
other friends: Queen Ruby (?), Prince Cliff
- family: Kestrel (mother) Chameleon (Father) Sky (Twin Brother)

Tendencies:
Tends to deal with stressful emotion by burning stuff with her scales
Improvement: Improved slightly
- Tends to react to sudden things impulsively without thinking
Improvement: improving VERY slowly
Tends to be very defensive
Improvement: improving steadily

Situations:
Loss of a friend:
although this has only happened once, that time her character was rather different. Now, she would probably charge after the murderer, or anyone that has a lot of blame over what happened
Doesn’t want any help, thinks she can do it by herself
- she needs to blame someone (improving slowly)
- self-guilt is there too, but she tries to convince herself it’s someone else’s fault
- outcome is she doesn’t rest until she finds the murderer or she has a good reason not to look for the murderer

Romantic struggles:
Peril really doesn’t have many romantic struggles. The dragon she loves (Clay) is very sweet and kind, but she’s rather obsessed over him — it’s an open secret. She will kill anyone who tries to kill him and wants to do everything he tells her, even though Clay says that she should do what she wants instead of listening to everything Clay says, which Peril responds to as; “I am doing what I want to. I want to do what you want me to do.”

Helping others:
- if she helps Clay’s friends, it’s usually to try to get Clay to like her, but she has improved slowly as she started to get other friends other than Clay
doing good in the world is something she loves now, not just for Clay, but because she doesn’t believe she has to be a monster; that a monster is not her future

“Your character’s family is part of an evil organisation that is trying to kidnap her friends
Peril tucked her wings in closely, wandering down a cold, smooth passageway towards Clay’s cave. One of the things that she loved about Jade Mountain Academy was that the painstakingly carved caves were fireproof and cool; her firescales couldn’t set someone’s home ablaze, or destroy villages upon villages just by touching one single haystack.
No. Don’t you dare think that. You heard what Clay said. You’ve done a lot of good stuff. You. Don’t. Have. To. Be. A. Monster.
That much was true, at least, like everything Clay said. She had FRIENDS now, true FRIENDS her age, that actually CARED about her. Her pace quickened as her mood lifted considerably.
Her talons curled in with excitement as she turned the corner, and came face-to-face with a large cave entrance. Everything inside the cave practically shouted “CLAY!” A nest of artistically arranged reeds (that had probably been put into the cave by Sunny) was already slightly squashed. The small back-up stash of food Clay had in case his adorably ever-hungry stomach craved something in the middle of the night lay to the side, and drawings and sketches of various dragons, including — Peril’s heart leapt with delight — HERS, was scattered around a wooden desk.
But something was missing.
Peril’s breath caught in her throat.
No, no. She was overreacting, panicking, like usual. Clay probably went to-to- get something to eat, or-
The uneaten small pile of food stared incredulously at her.
She walked over to the reed bed as carefully as she could. Yes, it was squashed, but the reeds had settled as naturally back as they could, and the squashed shape wasn’t definite, so it would’ve been quite a long time ago-
Peril looked over at the desk.
Clay’s art was improving slowly (VERY slowly, according to a couple of know-it-arts, but she ignored them) but the shapes of the dragons were proportioned right, and all things considered, was well done. But taking a closer look at the closest drawing with the freshest paint (her drawing, in fact!), she realised that it was only half-done, and the latest line drawn suddenly veered to the left as if it had been jerked involuntarily, and that ink of the brush didn’t even stop at the scroll; it went on to the edge of the table, where a dry brush lay on the ground, obviously thrust aside.
WHERE. WAS. CLAY?!
Now she was looking for signs that Clay had been taken, she realised she noticed signs of a struggle were EVERYWHERE. Light claw marks along the walls of the passageway, as she followed. A set of talonprints reaching out to the air, and a squirming tail trail leaving but not returning.
She frantically clambered outside, looking for the stumps of bushes and gouges in gnarled tree trunks. Nothing outside.
Then she noticed it.
A harmless, pale green scale lying half-hidden in dirt, beside a slightly freshly ruined bush. One that was too large to be a students’ and beside, no one except one dragon had that exact shade of green; she should know, of all dragons.
Her father, still angry for vengeance, was back. Chameleon had taken Clay.
> 525 words

—- Part 2, Character Voices

Sundew is a lot like Peril, very impulsive and powerful, but can barely contain her emotions. She prefers violence over diplomacy, although she is improving slowly. She is direct, and, usually, brutally honest, but can hold her tongue if she really needs to. She hates being silenced and will not stop until she settles a previous quarrel. She’s very loyal to what she believes in. Sundew can be described as aggressive and unflinching with speech, but for dragons she is close to, she is much kinder. She usually believes that she will be able to solve things through yelling and fighting like the environment she grew up in parrots. However, with new friends and dragons surround her, she is starting to improve very slowly, though she will get worked up sometimes.
> 131 words

Willow is like the opposite of Sundew, but she is girlfriends with her. She prefers trying to distract herself from bad things and forgives easily. Diplomacy is her tactic to win. She’s very careful on what she says, making sure she doesn’t hurt anyones feelings, and tries to find some good in everyone, if they aren’t deemed as “total evil loss”. She’s mentioned to only have yelled once, and that she “felt really bad about it afterwards”. She doesn’t mind if she doesn’t settle something, as long as the problem goes away, she tries to forget about it and be content with what she has already.
> 106 words

Sundew’s POV:
Most of my memories of that horrid night that I can remember are feelings. Anger. Distaste. Horror. Maybe f- Those wretched dragons staring up at us with blank white eyes. Satisfaction on a plan that I thought would work, but of course wouldn’t; I should’ve known better, it’s hard to trust someone with such an important job, but of course it wasn’t my fault.
Spending my last few hours with Willow before near-imminent doom struck us was poisoned with those horrible HiveWings. Just lined up, their oh-so-very-not-cool striped scales glinting at us. Barely moving. Never blinked. Hardly breathed.
Soaring through the Poison Jungle isn’t the best feeling when a literal army of your sworn-enemy is lining up at the border, either. All I could think about, I remember, is anger. About how if HiveWings had never started that war with us over a literal stupid BOOK and it turned out that THE HIVEWINGS HAD LIED ABOUT IT, AS I HAD EXPECTED, we would be in those old forests. Listening to normal oak trees whisper about new things; an unexpected warmth to the winter, perhaps.
But the HiveWings had ripped that away from us. That very privilege that we loved.
I remember feeling that I would never forgive them.
Then me and Willow went to go do the thing, trusting that others who had trusted one dragon that turned out to be non-trustworthy and succeeded in nearly killing each other. But before I knew all that, I thought I was heading for peace. Heading for a world where no evil existed, where all quarrels ended, and yeah, we could do whatever in the moons we wanted! No such things as PoisonWings and SapWings, since we would unite at our success. Queen Wasp would be gone. All evil HiveWings would be gone. The SilkWings… well, they could do whatever they wanted, the butterfly-brains they are. As long as they didn’t DECIDE TO START A WAR OVER A FAKE PROPHECY FROM A BOOK, I MEAN HELLOOOO?
I remember pride. Certainty. Certainty that my tribe would finally get what we had missed.
> 356 words

Willow’s POV:
I know that those rows upon rows of blank, staring eyes were dragons that were possessed; they didn’t actually want to fight, but Queen Wasp made them. Who knew who in there would die for a fight that didn’t involve them? Who died at the talons of another, forced to fight and kill and not be able to lift a single talon against the queen? Die whilst their claws were there, but not theirs?
I thought what I was about to do would free them from their tyrant-of-a-queen. That was, in fact, the truth, although the truth could be seen in many ways. I could tell Sundew thought that somehow, if the “antidote” didn’t work, she’d fight tooth and claw for her tribe, and go down as many other LeafWings had, despite her power to have control over plants.
But I thought of it as freeing them.
We had a quick last flight around the Poison Jungle, just me and Sundew. We barely talked, but we have that kind of touch that can convey more in one second than five minutes of talking can. Plus, I could tell that Sundew was very distracted, buried in the piles of her interesting, smart brain. I sometimes wish that I can read it like a scroll; she seems to be able to concentrate on doing two things at once; like fighting whilst talking to the plants and encouraging them to grow so she could use as weapons during fighting; that much I have heard quite often, thank you very much Sundew. Just kidding.
But the way I saw it, the HiveWings, with the queen free from their minds, would help the LeafWings. The LeafWings would finally get to go back to their safe habitat, the HiveWings could carry on without interfering with us, so long that Queen Wasp got off the throne — I knew that Wasp wouldn’t stop until she killed us all.
But with a new queen is a new order, new sense of safety, happiness, friendship across the tribes.
I mean, who would prefer violence over peace?
> 351 words

—- Part 3, AUs
High School AU, Soulmate Relationship, and Fix-It-Fic

“C-lay,” Peril rolled her eyes as she walked alongside the cobbled path with her friends that led to Fernshade High School for Prodigiously Talented Young Students, as it was elegantly called, but everyone just dubbed it ‘Ferny School’. Her cheeks blushed slightly, more out of happiness than anything, but it blended in so well with her messy fiery-copper coloured hair that it was hard to spot. “Why are you so silly all the time?”
Willow laughed. “You think that’s silly? You just wait, you’ll see Sundew is a fuzzy little furb-”
She’d been dive-bombed playfully by Sundew, and choked out with laughter, before responding between chuckles, “What? It’s true! Well, you’re not really a furball though. My bad.”
Peril and Sundew rolled their eyes simultaneously behind Clay and Willow’s back, but there was a smile on both their faces.
They entered the tall, polished doors of Fernshade High School and immediately ran into a a pair of people. One had smooth, black hair, without a single strand out of place, and the other hand long golden strands running down, ending in a small curl. They had been staring at a scroll, both giggling more than strictly necessary, in Peril’s point of view, but all the same, it wasn’t exactly against the rules.
The golden-haired girl looked up and opened her mouth with an apologetic expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry, that was my bad, we shouldn’t’ve been standing in front of the-”
“S’all right,” Clay said, grinning broadly. “Hey Sunny, oh, and Starflight.”
Starflight looked up, his eyes friendly. “Good morning, Clay, Peril, Sundew, Willow.” He said this with a nod to each person in a rather formal and posh voice. Sunny dissolved into silent giggles beside him, and somehow Starflight didn’t notice. “Where are you headed?”
“Good question,” Clay turned back to the other people. “Swimming pool?”
It wasn’t really a question, and everyone knew it. More of a statement that they would be going there next. If there was anything that Clay loved to do more than having a meal, it was paddling in a heated swimming cool with the cold of winter lingering around the outside. Apparently it was something to do with his family — apparently they loved playing in the mud — mud, um, yUcK! But the heated pool was the least messy out of all the things Clay loved to do, and, well, whatwasPeriltorejecthatadorablymushyandpuppyeyedfaceawww.
“Yes, sir,” Sundew held her fingers up in a salute position, her eyes twinkling. Sundew’s hair was a rather funny colour, though it was nothing compared to some other people in the school. It started with dark green — that was there when she was born, believe it or not, and ended in a soft brown.
Willow said it was beautiful and unique. Everyone agreed.
Willow looked somewhat like Sundew, at least in her hair. She had stunning dappled-brown hair that turned slightly golden at the end, and as Sundew swore up and down, hints of green glittered in her hair too, if the sun was angled the right way. Sundew and Willow were truly meant to be soulmates.
So was Peril and Clay.
She cast a hidden-adoring look at Clay. He was so kind but protective when needed, she felt as though anyone who needed help would be taken under his loving arms and anyone who met him would immediately feel their day brighten.
Sunny and Starflight — one of the most obvious soulmates, even before the Binding happened.
It was hard to imagine someone like Nettle — a dark-tempered, cranky girl from the class next door — to have a soulmate, though.
But, when the Binding happens, it happens, and it happens to everyone, so long they live through their first fifteen years of their lives; within those fifteen years, the Binding would occur.
The Binding was something that felt like fantasy, like imagining that dragons were real or magic could just be born inside you! But to Peril, the Binding was something that happened to everyone, and whilst it did sometimes feel like something out of a book, or a poorly written short story that was written for an online camp to help her cabin that an eleven year old typed whilst evading bed time which, by the way, would happen in eight minutes, it was… just a part of their every-day lives.
Most had their Binding by twelve, but sometimes, and very rarely literally found their soulmate a day before their birthday.
The Binding would occur when something recognised that the two children had matured enough and were ready to meet their soulmate — and they always matured by fifteen. When the Binding happened to someone, it was always unexpected, but children in the middle of exams who suddenly had the Binding would be excused, as with pretty much any other event. Golden-white light would surround the child Binding, and through some kind of magically-magic stuff, would be able to talk directly to the soulmate. Every child was born with a soulmate. They would always be matched up. If one soulmate died before meeting the other soulmate, then the other soulmate would also die, but not suddenly; death was meant to be for the soulmates if that happened.
Soulmates had some unique way to tell that they were a pair — usually a heart shape that grew and had a certain colour on the back of their hand. Ruby and Clay had an amber-coloured one. It neither felt like a tattoo, or felt like it had been inflicted by any kind of brute force. It was more like it had merged, like it had grown with the identity of your soulmate, and the shape on the back of your hand grew bigger as you learnt and met your soulmate more, and bonded with them.
Obviously, the soulmates being soulmates would want to meet up, regardless of their personality. And almost always, your soulmate would live close to you. You would easily be able to meet up.
Several people knew that they would be soulmates with, say, one of their extremely close friends, so they knew what to expect when the Binding happened. But they were mostly guesses, and it was pretty hard to guess who your soulmate would be.
Nearly everyone, however, at Fernshade High School for Prodigiously Talented Young Students, had already had the Binding, and to not have one yet would mostly result in giggles, stares and humiliation.
“Hey Winter, Lynx,” Sundew shot at two white-haired students literally pelting each other with ice slush from outside. They turned red as they realised they had been noticed, and the ice dripped from their hands. Winter and Lynx were usually sensible; they rarely got into, well… play fights like these, at least in front of others.
They passed several other soulmates on the way to their pool, and to their surprise… Nettle!
The horrible-tempered, picky girl with spiky hair that usually had a scowl on her face was actually talking rapidly with another girl! A small, matching heart-shape coloured dark green had merged on Nettle’s hand, and it was swelling by the minute.
The two girls were talking with a smile on their face, and a side that Peril had not known was in Nettle had shown through. The other, new girl looked easy-going, breezy, and kind. And for some reason, Nettle, currently, looked the same.
“The Binding is pretty cool,” Sundew said with a smile, looking quickly away from them so they wouldn’t see. Everyone murmured their agreement.
A cozy buzz of chatter surrounded them as they headed for the pool, as usual, before school began. It felt like Peril was being enveloped into warm hug of words; everyone was calm, and peaceful, and happy. Having a couple of rough days beforehand, this felt like being warmed by the sun in winter, the smell of fresh rain after earth. Nostalgia and happiness as Clay gleefully leapt into the heated pool.
Her heart swelled and filled up her body.
> 1341 words

—- Part 4, SWC Fan-Fiction
> 403 words
Waking up is a blessing inside the home-level-coziness of a fan-fiction SWC cabin. A warm sun lightly streams through silk curtains that ripple in a gentle breeze, half-blocking the brightness and half-letting the warmth travel through.
Then as you climb out of your bunk-bed, you are greeted by Wari, an easy-going, kind leader that is generous with praise but quick-to-correct. Her motivational words lift you up, filling you with warmth, a determination and unbroken peace settling in like snowflakes on a blanket of smooth snow.
Helpfulness, kindness, resilience, dedication — the qualities of a true camper in fan-fiction. If one person — usually Wari — shows one of these emotions, or, usually, most of them, they are passed on like a baton, from one person to the next, an ever-growing web of happiness and generosity.
If you try to name something better to do than have a lovely, light-hearted and flowing conversation with your typical fan-fiction camper, you will fail. Oh, what a blessing it is, to run through conversations and join in the most wonderful one, which is every one, but the one you think you can relate to most! To talk with people who truly understand you, and understand them back, discover your twin souls, discover your archenemies…
And that leap of delight when fan-fiction surges forwards in the leaderboard, generating points faster than you can say “fan-fiction is gonna win”, and the celebration afterward, and then the scramble and frenzy to add more words, help fan-fiction, and, of course, have fun.
Competitively is, of course, a common part of SWC, and the dedicated camper of fan-fiction helps his, her, or their cabin in any way possible, but they show great sportsmanship and will stretch a helping hand to any camper in trouble, sworn enemy or not, for kindness in fan-fiction is valued more than competitiveness.
Other cabins sometimes come along with words trying to discourage us, but none shall break through, for we rise like the sun in the morning and expel any dark shadows trying to overcome us and help the less privileged, more struggling campers, in any way possible, lending them our spirit and help as necessary.
But, however, one thing is more necessary than the others, one quality that shows the true camper to fan-fiction.
A benevolent protector of all true to it, that will eat any competitors of fan-fiction that threaten to stand in its path. All campers in fan-fiction cry these six words out loud constantly:
BOW DOWN TO THE DUCK DEITY!

Folder - Weekly 2
I was lazy and didn’t do it - apologies

Folder - Weekly 3
Part 1: High Fantasy and Worldbuilding
> Castle setting
> Hard magic
> Two enemy empires
> Magical items that reappear and disappear with every time someone uses them
> Mystical creatures that are to be treated with respect
> Independent community
> Pirate raids
> Outcasts from society are to be k!lled on sight
> Chain of power followed; Royalty to Nobles to Generals to Soldiers to Citizens to Peasants to Prisoners and Outcasts, etc
> Majority of society has disbelief in magic
> Dogs are considered the best animals
> Bronze is a banned material
> The whole world is split evenly into two faiths; The Duck Deity path and the Remalism.
> Peasants are only to be fed bread, potatoes and water.
> Royalty just be served with special golden magical goblets that purify the water in them and that water in the goblet is impenetrable any toxin or poison.
> Prisoners to only be given thin, soggy cabbage and leftover rain water
> There’s no technology
> To k!ll someone in your own kingdom without permission from royalty is punishable with d3ath
> Every Thursday the Duck Deity followers gather around one duck-shaped candle and sing “naf-if, rof eht niw, wob ot eht kcud ytied”
> Outcasts are forced to wear green clothing and then shoved out of the kingdom to be exiled

Connections between the bolded:
(434 words)
In the world, there were two major kingdoms: The Kindgom of Asphobel, and the Twyserk Kingdom. Both were rivals and there were usually outbreaks of fighting amongst the dark borders.
In the Kingdom of Asphobel, which is commonly accepted to be the ‘larger’ Kingdom, the royalty is considered to be the highest on the chain of powers, which is followed by Noble families, to battle generals, soldiers, citizens, peasants and prisoners. Asphobel revolves around monarchy, and monarchy gets the best of the best. To ensure no intruders ever will be able to collapse the system, they have a large number of guards and a special, mythical goblet that purifies any water in it, hence removing any poison. Only royalty is permitted to drink from these goblets.
Bronze is a banned substance in both kingdoms. Bronze reacts to many magical items - it can explode, melt, or hail mythical beasts - and to be caught with any form of bronze can mean anything up to execution.
Magical items that appear and disappear upon use are considered a myth, although the royal family knows that these items actually exist. Any person found with a walking stick fitted with a dragon head, a jagged disk made out of copper with phoenix carvings on them, or a flat mirror with pure black glass can face becoming an outcast. As in most cases the people found with these items have no idea of their potential, the royal family does not k!ll them, but orders them out of the kingdom. If they are seen on Asphobel territory again, they are to be k!lled on sight.
To tell the difference between an outcast and a regular person, the most obvious way is by their clothing. Regular citizens of Asphobel are banned from wearing any clothing with green on them, whilst outcasts are forced into robes of green made out of thatchy silk. The Chief Guard keeps a record an accurate sketch on all outcasts for reference if they ever need to identify someone.
Magic only comes from these three rare items, each with a special power; the dragon staff can harness swiftness and strike lightning a few times where the user wishes it to before it disappears; the disc can be thrown once and it will lead the thrower to wherever the thrower wishes, but then vanishes; if you whisper a name and that person’s current location (must be pretty precise) into the black mirror, you can see and hear that person’s every move, but after used once will dissolve with a puff of smoke in the user’s very own hands.
Story:
The Kingdom of Asphobel
(941 words)
Annabelle drew up her green robes and ducked underneath a tree. The Guards’ leather boots crunched, leaves and bark underfoot, as they searched for her. She gripped the mirror with one hand, and, after glancing at it sorrowfully, pegged it near a Guard’s head. The Guard whipped around, then his eyes dropped and looked at the mirror. His eyes widened, and his brown gloves reached quiveringly towards it. But, seeming to be overcome with loyalty, the Guard raised his voice and yelled, “The mirror’s here!”
Now’s my chance, Annabelle thought. Nearly every Guard was coming from the south. If she could head north, she’d be out of Asphobel territory soon.
She didn’t mean to be caught across the Asphobel border. After she’d discovered a black mirror with a frame of gold mythical creatures under her table, she’d naturally started screaming and waving it around her village. The Guard who’d caught her took her immediately to the Palace of Asphobel, and she’d been exiled, even if she was only an early teen. Then they’d forced her into green robes and shoved her outside of the border.
But after trodding outside in the boggy, miserable swamps, she’d been getting rather close to the border, and to her immense shock, found that exact mirror she’d been exiled for — a black mirror with a golden frame.
She’d crept across the border, just a few paces, grabbed the mirror, and tried to get out again. But a patrolling Guard just had to spot her in her green robes, and it had raised the alarm. Now, even over the border, she was running for her life through the swamp, cursing her tight robes as she stumbled over the ground.
After she thought she got a considerable amount of length between her and the Guards, she squatted onto a damp log, clutching the edges of her robes. Her memory was replaying that bitter moment where she had been sentenced to exile.
A Guard walked briskly towards the King, who was mounted on a high throne made out of pure gold and a plume-filled, purple cushion. In the Guard’s hand was the mirror she had been arrested for. The Guard’s face was expressionless, the King’s regal. As the Guard bent down and whispered into the King’s ear, Annabelle drew herself close in her hard, wooden chest. She was bound by chains on both hands, not that she had tried to struggle. She felt the heavy weight of the King pressing against her, his presence large and menacing. She felt herself shrink beneath his cold stare.
“So,” the King’s voice was soft. His right hand moved to the side, and a person dressed in neat white clothes materialised by his side, carrying a silver platter with a golden goblet. The King took a long fraught out of it, before his eyes fixed upon the small girl again. “So…”
He tapped the mirror with one finger, staring at it. Then he lazily waved one of his fingers and the white-clothed person was back, taking his goblet without a word and disappearing quickly down the hallway again.
Without warning, he picked up the mirror, and breathed onto it. “I wish to see Queen Stracey, of the Diamond Palace.”
Annabelle couldn’t see what he was seeing, but his eyes widened, and words came out of the mirror.
“Issue a decree… horse carriages not to… well, control those people…”
The King tapped a finger on the mirror’s surface again, and it vanished. He looked down at Annabelle, his face condescending. “So… do you know what this is?”
“No,” squeaked Annabelle, who was surprised any sound came out at all.
“What?” The King said impatiently, tapping his finger against the arm of his chair again. “I don’t have all day, peasant girl. Answer me, properly this time.”
Annabelle swallowed, then with the largest voice she could muster, she replied; “No, Your Majesty, I do not know what that is. I found that under my table-”
“Like the others did,” mused the King. “Or at least somewhere like that. Well, girl. Did you tell anyone else of this mirror?”
“Well…” Annabelle hesitated. “Your Majesty, I was about to, and I said ‘I found a weird mirror!’ to everyone, but before anyone could come out to see… this guy- I meant, the Guard… uh… brought me here?”
“Good,” the King nodded. “Well then. If no one else knows, no one inside this Kingdom other than myself and my Guards have to know. Well, we can’t trust you. Hm. To make things the easiest… Guards, clothe her with the green robes and get her out of this kindgom.”
“What?!” Annabelle said, confused. The Guards advanced on her, and she clutched the edges of her wooden chair. “I don’t understand- am I in trouble?”
The King laughed. “Well, technically you are. You just don’t know what you did. Anyway, with that rather boring subject out of the way…”
The subject of me staying in this kingdom is BORING? Annabelle thought furiously. It’s my legit life that’s on the line! And you just give it one thought-
Annabelle breathed in and out deeply. That memory had actually happened over four years ago, but it was still fresh in her mind. She traced the lines on her muddy palm.
I didn’t deserve this. I had no idea what I got in trouble for, I didn’t do anything wrong. But the King doesn’t care, even though it means everything of me. He probably doesn’t care about anyone.
Maybe… we need a new government.
Maybe… I should help that happen.
But how?
(1625 words in total for Part 1)
Part 2: Magical Realism
Note: This will stem from the previous story ‘The Kingdom of Asphobel’.
What kind of magic is used in your world?
(99 words)
Magic is scarce in the world I created. There are three items that permit limited access to magic, but it is nearly impossible to find them, and be found with the items, using them or not, can lead to your citizenship in the kingdom becoming revoked. Even if you do manage to get away with the crime, you can only use your power once, before the item will disappear to a random location. The type of magic I use in my story ‘The Kingdom of Asphobel’ is called hard magic, where the knowledge and abilities of magic are limited.
What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?
(96 words)
As said before, to be caught with one of the three items; a dragon-staff, a jagged disc and a black mirror, can lead to being kicked out of the kingdom. The only times you are permitted to use magic is if you are part of the royal family, or if the current ruling monarch specifically allows you to.
Punishments are harsh in the Kingdom. The rulers choose punishments for themselves and do not give the ‘offender’ a voice, nor do they let them tell their side of the story if the prosecutor is not interested.
What is an important symbol of your world?
(103 words)
Power is important to royalty. Though not described in the actual story, royalty show their status with purple robes. No other people in the Kingdom are permitted to wear anything purple (or green for that matter).
Bronze is a banned material as around it magic can go haywire. Again, although not described in the story, an incident a few cents ago involved the dragon staff getting close to a lump of copper. Long story short, lightning was everywhere, and barely no one within a few kilometres radius was left alive. After that, bronze was banned, though the reasoning remains a mystery to many.
What is the origin of your magic?
(131 words)
This is unsaid lore and a myth passed on by one particular family who do not share it with anyone outside. The general hypothesis is that a dragon was born with the ability to harness magic, and just before it d!ed, it had passed on its magic power to a sturdy stick which was later carved by the person in possession of it. The disc was made by a person with extreme skill, and the copper was retrieved from a mine of gold, where every heart would become pure. The copper was extremely rare and perhaps magical, the family agreed. Then finally was the mirror, which was said to be a gift from the mythical Duck Deity who wished to rewards a King who had done good for his people.
What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
(115 words)
Magic is extremely, extremely hard to come by. It’s very rare to find the magical item, and once you do, you can only use it ones before it disappears into a random position inside either the Kingdom of Asphobel or the Twyserk Kingdom. This is made even harder with the strict laws regarding magic and the unfair punishments for being caught in the middle. In short, the society finds it hard to believe in magic as it is so scarce (which is what the King wants as he fears what would happen if anyone got their hands on any of the three items and knew what to do with them, mostly for his own safety).
Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
If the character had gotten to use the magical items, they would feel something like power crackle through their veins; as though they were the most powerful person on the planet, and nothing could stop them. They would mostly see nothing except for the item they would use, which would glow a red only in their eyes, and then fade back to normal. They would be able to hear nothing but a peaceful rushing of water, but perhaps in reality it wasn’t water, but it was power and strength that they heard rushing. They would be able to smell and taste clean, fresh air, along with whatever smell and taste they loved the most, which would fill them up and strengthen them.
In short, every single one of the user’s senses may be able to make the user think that they are extremely powerful whilst they are using the magical items.
How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
The government, or the King, would ensure all curriculums point in his favour; at least for all official schools. And schools are only in the capital of the Kingdom of Asphobel; everywhere else is homeschooled. However, the local Guard in the village would tell all adults who are teaching the children on exactly what they would say when it came to the King; how the King brought peace and prosperity, that they kept everyone inside the Kingdom safe and well-fed, and so on.
What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
As said before, catastrophe happens. It would be nearly impossible to create catastrophe just by using magic normally, but if copper went near any magical item, there would be chaos. The magical items would go haywire, firing their power everywhere; the dragon staff would shoot every moving thing within the kilometre for an hour straight; the disc would fly around, cutting things and destroying the place around them until it would be caught; the mirror would have every single person in the Kingdoms’ voices into a huge volume so someone at the opposite side of the Kingdom would be able to hear someone from the other side - this can lead to wide hearing loss.
Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
(124 words)
Without magic, the King would’ve probably been a kinder and more considerate ruler. Every monarch knows that their downfall may be due to the magical items, and the King heard too many stories of what had happened with magical items when he was young, so he had grown as a fearful and paranoid man who barely trusted his people. He thinks of magical items as a weapon against him and his family, and he does what he can to try to contain magic, but it barely ever works. He tries to keep calm and bored in the face of magic; he knew he shouldn’t let his fear out, or it would be his greatest weakness that would be unveiled and thrust to the world.
(1166 words in total for Part 2)
Part 3: Joint Workshop
Science Fantasy Story
Jelena curled her blonde hair in a curl around her finger and sat squatting just out of range of the hovering light beacon. As technology progressed, it was getting harder and harder to move about; there were robots and more sustainable light sources everywhere. She crept quietly through the alley, trying to avoid all spots where the neon light hit the ground.
Her soft wings fluttered behind her, and she tucked them in closer, unwilling for any human to spot her with them. She’d been spending so long hiding behind dustbins and alleys, and she’d barely ever talked to anyone.
“ZD-34 reporting,” a monotone voice announced, and instinctively she dove silently behind a dustbin. Something was rolling on one large wheel past her. She clutched her stomach nervously and tried not to breathe. The ZD series were designed specifically as patrollers, with enhanced hearing reaching up to ten-times a normal human’s amount, night vision and an ability to pick up certain scents that had been programmed into the robot to know.
Silently she willed her churning stomach to calm down as she waited for the ZD to past by. The sound of a wheel rolling started getting louder, and quietly she grabbed a stone. Checking through the thin cracks of the dustbin, she saw a robot with one wheel and a flat head glide smoothly forwards. Digitally-made white eyes blinked agains a black screen. Two arms swindled out of the robot, and they clicked, withdrawing in one arm a razor, and a… literal bomb… in the other one.
“Does Commander wish ZD-34 to launch the bomb?” repeated the flat voice.
There was a moment of silence, then ZD-34 inclined it’s head. “Understood, Commander.” Then he snapped his head towards the dustbin, and, as Jelena held her breath, the robot looked back. “I can pick up the scent of Fairy. Distantly. 18% Fairy, 22% human. 50% uncertain. Again.”
The robot shook its head, then, after inclining it once more rolled on.
Jelena clenched her hands as she waited for the robot to pass by. She’d thought she’d disguised here scent well enough…
She spread her wings and quietly flew upwards, past a hovering neon sign screaming about a hoverboard hockey session, and she landed on the rooftop. It was exposed, but only if anyone looked up or came up, and that was unlikely. Plus, the Flying Robot Squad was only dispatched when there was a real emergency…
“Fairy. Spotted.” Many flat voices intoned together, and robots with a huge wingspan and black screen for a face swooped towards her. In their metal arms, each held rope. Rope to catch her with. The FRS had found her.

Hidden World Story
(434 words)
The boy masked himself with the musty smell of human, and brushed his hair in the prefect angle so that his pointed ears were completely covered. Other than that, his features seemed exactly human, a perfect tool for the Elves to blend amongst the humans.
Every elf new that if a human ever found out about their secret world, they would have to k!ll them. Even the boy’s hands trembled as he thought of that. Could he really m!rder someone just for something they found out? It made him sick to realise how many of his people had k!lled humans and had made it seemed like a stupendous fall or the person’s own actions that had been the causer of the result.
Lucas really didn’t want to k!ll anyone. It felt wrong; the humans technically never had done anything wrong, and it really wasn’t the humans’ fault one elf wasn’t careful enough to hide their trace so that humans couldn’t find them.
He’d been living with humans for ages now, and they appeared similar to humans. They had family. They had love. Friendship. Problems.
But they had one thing Lucas craved; Society.
Elves were independent. The children of elves would stay with their family until they were old enough to fend for themselves. Most of their lives, they would stay away from other Elves. However, once every decade, they would meet at a secret place only elves knew about called The Light Tree.
The entire population knew that the Light Tree was in the middle of the ocean on an island big enough to support the population but small so that travellers would ignore it. The only way to get there without boat was to tap an imprint on your left pointer finger that only elves could see. That would automatically teleport you to the Light Tree, but it only worked once a year, so it was to be used sparingly.
To get back was another matter. Usually, the Elder of the Elves would arrange boats to each continent that would take the elves back to roughly were they were before. Some choose to remain at the Light Tree permanently like the Elder, if they didn’t want to be independent any longer.
Once every ten years, though, to meet your kind again!
Lucas watched as a ring of people sitting around a campfire sang merry songs and roasted marshmallows. The longing swarmed over her, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He’d been giving it a lot of thought, and decided it was time.
He pressed the imprint.

Dystopian Story
(1111 words exactly )
The drift of a thick cloud of sand was passing through the ragged stall, slow and lazy. Here and there people were crumpled against a high sandstone wall, their heads bandaged, their mouths gaping.
“Water,” one mumbled pleadingly. “Please, sir, water?”
A shadow fell over the beggar. It was large and dark, which described the caster perfectly. He had a metal helmet, chest plate and shin guards, and was wielding a huge club with spikes on the edge.
Though no one could see the shadow-caster’s face, a high-pitched, humourless laugh escaped from inside the helmet. “Should I give my precious water to a lowly beggar?” He laughed again. “I think not.”
With a swish of robes from beneath all that armour, the person reached into a leather backpack he had been carrying. His scaly gloves grasped something from inside the bag, and pulled it out. It was nearly impossible to see the beggar’s face, since it had been so wrapped in bandages, but the beggar moved forwards a tiny bit, almost pleadingly.
“Not my precious water,” repeated the person, then poured water straight out from the can right in front of the beggar’s face.
Juliana watched from a distance, her fist clenching. Her throat was parched, her lips peeling, and to watch such an obnoxious person show off their abundant wealth in such a crude fashion was near torture.
In her crumbling city, one ruler favoured those that had bowed down and moped about their ‘greatness’ before he had risen to power. Every single one of those people were rewarded with high riches and extreme protection, whilst the rest of the society was left to fend for themselves.
More than once, Juliana had witnessed a pair of adults fight over a few drops of water. A passing Noble had done nothing but chuckle and laugh, and after the fight was over, had strode over to the cup they had been fighting over and had tipped it over.
Water was a scarce resource, one that was being abused by the rich and craved by the poor. In such an arid environment, the only way to get water was to risk your life fetching it, forcing someone to give it to you or stealing it.
Quietly, Juliana slipped through the shadows, careful to avoid the Noble who had poured the water in front of the thirsty beggar’s eyes. In the distance, she saw the huge, towering palace, with thick sandstone walls and stained-orange roofs. At the tip of the point of each roof, a huge gem lay glistening; on each side a ruby, and at the main tower, a diamond.
The gates at the front of the palace were made out of solid gold, the lock of platinum, so it was impossible to get past. But the palace’s good wealth was a mask, a mask of the rest of the city.
There were crumbling half-finished houses with no roofs. The only farms were inside the palace gates. But there were more pieces of fabric as houses rather than houses; cloth hanging from a window that covered a tiny bit of ground below. Many had no beds. And some were so injured and sick they took refuge by the wall and tried to stay alive begging, which barely ever worked.
Juliana quietly walked past two Nobles jeering at a cloth-house and the poor expecting mother inside. Dust billowed on her feet as side-stepped into a narrow alleyway. About halfway across, she pressed her feet against one side, where the wall would’ve been.
An outline of a circle started broadening, then some bit of sandstone completely fell away. The circle swung to the side, and Juliana had to grab it and quietly shut it behind her.
Before her was a collection of rugs, one pillow, an extinguished fireplace and a ring of hand-made chairs. There were maps and diagrams pinned on the walls, complicated and using dozens of code words so no one outside of their group would ever no what they would mean.
It was deathly silent inside the hollowed-out room, except for the sound gaining sandstorm outside and the laughs of Nobles. Her footsteps must’ve been the loudest noise, which were echoing around the space.
The whole place smelt of heat, sweat and air that had been breathed in too much. There was scarcely any ventilation; there were no windows, and the only way in and out was the concealed door, which was risky to open lest a Noble was concentrating very hard down the dark alley.
A dozen or so people were sitting on the ring of chairs, surrounding one huge piece of paper and talking so quietly Juliana could scarcely hear them at all.
One of them looked up and spotted Juliana. “Hello, Jasmine,” he said quietly.
Jasmine was her codename, so if someone blabbed behind their back they wouldn’t know their real names and couldn’t target their families, and if any Nobles caught them planning they wouldn’t know who was talking. It was a simple but rather genius idea.
“Lamp,” she acknowledged with a smile. “Hey, what’s this?”
A girl in her late teens codenamed “Prospect” beckoned Juliana closer. “We are planning to steal from the palace,” Prospect said, so quietly even though she was talking in Juliana’s ear that she could barely hear her. “Collect a few valuable items, then we’ll go out and trade them as travellers. We can get a bunch of water which we can share with the people who come with us.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get the water supply?” asked Juliana.
Prospect shook her head. “No. We’ve been watching from the shadows of the gates every day; we can see the water supply going in and out of the palace front, and there’s always over a dozen guards accompanying it. Imagine how many would be guarding the place where they keep all their water?”
“A lot,” guessed Juliana. “But… wouldn’t it be harder to get those ‘valuable items’, since we have to go pretty deep in the palace to get those?”
“Ah,” Prospect said. “So this isn’t directly in the palace. It will be hard to see from the ground, I reckon, especially at night. And the stuff isn’t fixed directly into the-”
“Prospect,” Juliana started slowly. “Are you saying that we’re going to steal…”
Prospect beamed. “That’s right, Jasmine. We’re going to steal…” she gestured towards a large pile of huge pickaxes and ropes with grapple-hooks at the end, wherever she had gotten that much contraband. “We’re going to steal the gems out of the palace’s roof.”
(2017 words in total for Part 3)

(4829 words in total for the whole weekly)

Folder - Weekly 4

Word Wars

Word War Spaces

Wins: 2 Loses: - Ties: -

Word Count Stories

In-Cabin Activities

Facts:
> Fan-fiction will win B)

Welcome to Sugar's cooking pot!

Dailies

Main Cabin dailies

“Hey Amber can you go to the store and get me a chicken? I want to cook that for dinner today,” Winter said.

“Sure mom I will be back before you can say chicken breast,” Amber replied.

Winter with a sigh said, “chicken breast, you're already late Amber.”

Amber went outside laughing.

20 minutes later…

“I'm back! Are you going to put it in the oven or on the stove?” Yelled Amber.

Winter rolled her eyes, “ I will put it on the counter first.”

Amber laughed, “ I meant how are you cooking the chicken?”

Winter angrily replied, “I am not cooking it yet you have not even given the chicken to me yet.”

“Ok mom, here, should I do the dishes?” Amber asked.

Winter inquired, “What exactly are you going to do to the dishes? Not breaking them I hope.”

Amber sighed, “I'm going to wash them mom.”

“Winter said,. ”If you are going to do that you can at least dry them after washing them.“

Amber too tired to react said, ”Ok mom, I might even fix up a salad.“

”We do not even have any salads here. And none of them are even broken, “Winter exclaimed very much confused.

”Mom I mean I am going to make a salad. You know with veggies and mayo?“ Amber replied quite shocked about Winter's oblivion.

”Wow I am actually quite surprised I didn't know that you had a vegetable garden, but where did you plant them?“ Winter asked.

”I'll just go to my room,“ Amber sighed.

Part 2 Vagueness 250 words
”Hey mom do you remember that app I was talking about?“ Amber asked.

Winter replied, ”No I do not Amber can you describe the app?“

”Well, it is an app that is available on Google play, and the app store.“ Amber said after thinking for a minute.

”What is it for, again?“ Winter asked.

”What do you mean? Amber asked.
“Like what does it do? Is it a gaming app, an art app, an entertainment app, a social media app, a tool app? You know what I mean.” Winter said exasperated.

“I know this is going to sound stupid, but I don't know at all, infact I have no idea. I must have told my friend about it, and she asked for the name of it.” Amber sighed.

“You have to know the name of the app mom, you remember everything I mean almost,” Amber pleaded.

“I am sorry I just don't know, when exactly did you tell me about this app?” Winter asked.

“I have no idea,” Amber said.

“Umm then do you at least remember where we talked about it? Was it at school or at home or in the car?” Winter inquired.

“I still do not recall talking about this app at all I just can not remember.” Amber said.

“Look honey I am trying my best but I do not know anything about the app besides where's it is available. I think this is a lost cause. I am sorry.” Winter, said giving up on it.

Daily 3
3.7.22
302 words total
I help my mom with many things, sometimes I help her with mopping. I mopped the living room my room and sometimes the kitchen. I also do the dishes and clean the bathroom which is not an easy task but I have to do it. I actually do all these every Saturday these are my basic chores. But on regular basis I just sweep the room. I usually help out my sister and brothers with homework even though they don't usually accept it. I also help out around church by designing letters and certificates. So far I have been helping with 4 items. The first one was a promo sort of for a prayer week session. It stated the date and what would be going on. Next I helped with a baby dedication certificate which was hard as it was not just one page it was a card so it was two pages. The card consisted of the church logo, a blessing for the parents, a verse, and the pastor's signature. It also included a bunch of baby, and baby feet pictures. Next I helped out with a thank you letter for all the partners. It was pretty simple but pretty. And last helped out with a thank you letter for the pastors who were ministering during push, which is a our church program that celebrates the founding of the church and it stands for Pray Until Something Happens. This took me quite a while because my laptop kept turning of on me. A problem that occurred often was that I had the transparent version of the church logo, and its background had to be either white or a very light beige. Which really annoyed me when the optimum option was navy blue, I had to change the whole colour scheme otherwise.

Daily 1
1.7.22
101 words total
Hi there I'm Sugar you might know me from my old account @Godslamb. I'm 12 and I love reading and writing. This session I am in real-fi restaurant. My favorite type of ice cream is pistachio but vanilla is also really good. I am a cat person but I think dogs are cute as long as it is not not a bulldog or a pug or a chihuahua. I play piano and ukulele. I speak Russian French and English. You might be wondering how I speak Russian that is because my parents are missionaries in Russia and I live in Russia.

In Cabin dailies

Weeklies

Weekly 1

Part 1
-– character sheet –
Darius Bowman - character sheet (Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous seasons 1-4)
Series continuing or ended? Continuing, ending this month with season 5
Pronouns – he/him
Sexuality - straight
Species – human
Strengths: friendly, good survival skills, leader
Weaknesses: can be bossy, stubborn & disobedient
General view on life (free, not hateful, hateful): changes from free to mildly hateful

Tendencies:

Trusts everyone:
Improving or staying the same?: staying the same (though once was he was wrong and once he was right)

Wants to help everyone:
Improving or staying the same?: Staying the same

Feels guilty about what he shouldn't be guilty about:
Improving or staying the same: Improving gradually

Scenario: Darius wakes up and there is a mutated giant compy outside
Word Count: 430
The sun hit Darius's face he woke up got off his mat, and yawned stretching his arms over his head. The others were sleeping quietly. Kenji as usual snored loudly. As Darius was sitting down he recalls everything that had happened during the past few days. Many shocking things had happened such as Kenji, and Brooklyn starting to date, but the most shocking one was the teens finding out that Kenji's dad was the owner of Mantah Corp, the corporation that drugged dinosaurs and forced them to fight. After a while of thinking Darius snapped out of his thoughts and got up. He had to get supplies, he wondered if he should wait for the others to wake up but he thought it would be better to hurry and get over with. He got out of the small shelter they had and headed towards the jungle. Suddenly he heard a loud noise. If Darius did not know any better he would have thought it was a Compy. “I do not get it, it sounds like a Compy, but the sound is way too loud,” Darius thought anxiously. He jumped behind a bush. And saw that it was indeed a Compy, but know ordinary one, it was huge. “Great, 3rd mutated monster so far,” Darius muttered. As soon as the creature was far enough away he immediately ran to the shelter. Brooklyn and Kenji were already awake and talking. Kenji smiled sayings, “There you are.” After seeing Darius's face he said, “What is wrong?” Darius said, “Giant compy probably mutated, wake Sammy, Ben, and Yaz we gotta get out of her, now!” Brooklyn said, “What about the news we got about Kenji's dad?” “We will talk about that later, now come on let us go hurry,!” Darius replied. In moments they were on the move, Yasmina being the fastest scouted ahead. Sammy was walking, alongside Brooklyn and Kenji. “Guys we need to move quicker, we already know Compies are very fast, imagine how fast they are the size of tyrannosaurus rex. Brooklyn, obviously annoyed said , ”OK OK, stay calm.“ Suddenly they heard a noise. Out of the bushes came a Compy, a regular sized one. The Compy ran towards Ben who had the provisions and stole a slice of the frozen pizza. Before anyone could catch it the compy was back in the bushes. The team continued on using their compass to be sure they were going jn the opposite direction. After a long time of walking Darius sighed saying, ”Guys I think we are finally safe, let's set up camp."

Part 2
Character Voices
Word Count: 867
Mugman on the other hand gets scared and frightened very easily. He wants to be as brave as his oder brother,Cuphead, so once he stole Cupheads goggles thinking they would make him as brave and confident as Cuphead. While he was wearing the goggles he was corageous. This proves that he can be very gulible, but if he belives in himself he can stand up to fear. He is more responsible than his older brother Cuphead, but does get into fights with hi even though, Elder Kettle, their father figure, does not approve or allow the cups to fight.

Cuphead is a nice guy. He loves adventure and is always looking for fun. He is an optimistic person, and lives an easygoing life. He tends to be disobedient and stubborn at times. He is definitely not scared of taking risks, almost a dare devil and is always up for every single task. When he gets angry he fights, most usually with his younger brother Mugman. He does like to brag, and bring cheer to all of the people around him. He can also be quite greedy, and always wants to get what ever he wants, despite the possible consequences.

Mugmans perspective
We were walking down the road and Cuphead noticed a biil board.
He said, Look Mugsy the carnival is not to far away. Do you want to go? I am sure it will be so much fun, we could eat, play games and eat some more!“
I pondered it, Elder Kettle had already told us not to go because he said it was way to dangerous. I wondered what dangers were in the carnival, ghosts, monsters maybe.
I tried to tell Cuphead no, but all he said was, ”It is ok Elder Kettle does not need to know. Follow me!" He then ran off and I had to folow him.
We entered the carnival, and I noticed a lot of people were ooking gray and washed out almoust as if they had lost their souls, I shuddered at the thought.
Then Cuphead paid for a game and won first try. The point of the game was that the player would throw a ball up a ramb and it had to get inside the circle in the middle.
Then he got to play for free since he had won and he won the next try, and the next and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.I was geting bored of him winning so I went to the front of the carnival and noticed the sign said carnEVIL.
I ran to Cuphead and calle out to him, but he ignored me then the devil appeared. I tapped Cuphead on the shouler causing him tol lose, then his soul got pulled into the game but I grabbed it and put it back in Cuphead.
We ran and got chased all over the carnival. Then the devil started shooting flames at us. Cuphead came up with a plan Ihe jumped infront of the game he was playing and dodged the flame.The flame hit the game and all the souls were freed. We ran home knowing that Cuphead owed the devil his soul.

We were walking down the road when I saw a sign on a bill board.
“Look Mugsy the carnival is not to far away. Do you want to go? I am sure it will be so much fun, we could eat, play games and eat some more!” I exclaimed.
Mugman whimpered, “b-b-but Elder kettle s-said we should not go the carnival h-h-he said that it was to dangerous for little cup like us.”
“What a wimp,” I thought. “It is ok Elder Kettle does not need to know. Follow me!” I said running ahead.
“W-wait for me!”
When we had arrived at the carnival and then I spotted a game. The point of the game was that the player would throw a ball up a ramb and it had to get inside the circle in the middle. I payed the fee and got it in first try.
“Wow Cuphead first try!” Mugman exclaimed.
Since I had won I got to play again without paying for the game. On the second try I got it in the hole again. I got it in the next try, and the next and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next. Before I knew a crowd had gathered and random stragers had begun to cheer me on. I felt great and then suddenly I heard Mugman call my name I simpy replied
“Not know Mugsy”
All of a sudden I felt a tap on my shoulder because of Mugman I lost i tuned around to see the devil in front of me and suddenly my soul got snatched, thankfully Mugman pulled my soul out.
Next thing we did was run away, we got chased all over the carnival. Then the devil started shooting flames at us. I came up with a plan I jumped infront of the game I was playing and dodged the flame.The fame hit the game and all the souls were freed. We ran home knowing that I owed the devil my soul.

Janner Igiby went to bed that night, happy to be the throne warden and thinking about everything that had happened, how they were just living simple lives, and then before they knew it here's where fighting nag the nameless and his lackeys.
So many things had happened, Janner's little brother, the future king of Anneria was turned into a White fang.
As he was thinking about all these things he fell asleep.
When he woke up he wasn't in his bed.
He was in a strange room and there was a box hanging from the wall with moving pictures.
He sat up and turned to look around and he saw Sara Cobbler right next to his face.
“Ahh!” He yelled, for she had scared him.
“Janner it is me. Let me explain where we are.” Sara said.
She said, “So I woke up in a different bed like you, and there was and woman here with me I, of course, was terrified, but the woman explained that she and her husband saw us together on the road asleep.
They do not have any children at home and they are rather lonely so they decided to take us in.
We were somehow both asleep. I don't think we are in the same world Janner, not even in the same time.”
It took the boy a second to understand.
“But how did we get here?” Sara shrugged.
She stood up and for the first time since he woke up he noticed that she was not wearing her dress, she was wearing some sort of blue breeches and a shirt.
“Oh! There are some new clothes for you on the chair, we also have a maid and the maids daughter lives with us too she is about our age and I have already met her.” Sara exclaimed.
Her name is Marline bit she said we could call her Marly. and she has brown skin! Can you imagine?
Her hair is black and it stands up! She's very nice too.“
Sara kept on rambling about Marly, and Janner watched her in surprise, the timid girl he used to know had changed.
She was still beautiful with her long brown hair, and her sparkling blue eyes.
All of a sudden he realised he was staring. Sarah giggled saying, ”What are you looking at?“
She left him to change saying breakfast was ready.
When he went downstairs he met a girl Marly.
Marly had her nose deep in a book and only noticed Janner was there, till he sat down at the table.
Marly looked up and stuttered, ”H-h-hello w-welcome to our house. Am I bothering you? I can leave?“
Janner smiled and replied, ”No you aren't. Why so shy?“
Marly seeing that Janner as teasing her replied, ”I'm usually shy around new people, but I can already see you won't bite.“
Marly and Janner started talking and before you knew it they were friends.
Then Janner finally met Mr.and Mrs. Conner, the people who had taken them in, at breakfast.
They discussed a lot including school.
Janner and Sara were going to stay at the Conners and go to Marly's highschool until they found out how to get back home.
The next week Janner and Sara started school.
Janner noticed that not only did Sara become bolder she also started blushing more and more around him and laughing at his jokes, even the ones he knew weren't funny.
He had to get to the bottom of it, so he asked Marly.
Marly smiled widely and whispered into his ear,
”I'm not supposed to tell you but I can't hold it back,Sara has a massive crush on you.
I thought you were dating when we first met because of the way she talked about you.“
Janner was surprised. Marly continued, ” You like her too don't you? I've seen the way you look at her. You should confess!“
Janner thought about and agreed Marly was right he did love Sara but he would wait for a special moment to confess.
Marly almost squealed at the thought.
The months past and Sara's birthday came around.
Janner had been getting allowance and bought her a bracket he knew she wanted.
On the day of her birthday after everyone had sang for her, and she opened his gift she cried, ”Thank you so much Janner, I love it! I could kiss you."
Sara blushed, I meant i-. Before she could finish her sentence Janner kissed her. She looked shocked at first and then kissed him back.
When they stopped Janner noticed that Mr. Conner, Mrs. Conner , and Mandy's mom were smiling while Mandy was squealing with delight.
Janner felt content. He was not home yet but he had a family

Sugar woke up that morning ready for another day of cooking. It was finally time for her to unlock a new recepie, she chose poisonous cookies. After that she went to the thriller cabin where she met her sister.
“Hi how's the weekly going for you?” Sugar asked. Bea frowned, her forehead wrinkling, “Not great, fanfiction is not one of my strengths.”
Sugar smiled and said, “hashtag relatable.” “I am going to go do some cooking and then stop by main cabin.
Oh and give these to Moonlit for me ok?” Sugar said handing Bea a waffle in a bag. “Do not worry they aren't poisonous, I am saving the good stuff for fairy tales,” Sugar said with an evil grin.
She went to the main cabin to find out the new daily, it was a three word story chain thing, but it gave no points so Sugar decided she should better work on the weekly instead.
Then, all of a sudden, she remembered something, there had been complaints about ceilings being broken at the sci-fi hacking ring. As she walked there she realised that there was no roof. Inside she found Gee who had just broken the last peice.
Sugar said, “Gee… We have complaints about this roof breaking thing, the restaurant doesn't have enough money to fix this! Gee didn't care and Sugar tried to persuade her but it did not work. Then she exploded, ”What ever but if the restaurant suffers it's YOUR fault! I thought better of you, this better not come out my paycheck!“
Gee replied, ”you guys don't get pay- I mean hahah you get them at the end of the monthhhh—.“
Sugar rolled her eyes, and yelled ”I heard that! Even if we don't get paid I would at least have learned how to poison you.“
With that she walked off to do the weekly but decided to give a visit to fairy tales, and maybe poison them.
She invited herself in and loudly yelled, ”Hello there fairy tales I bring umm motivational cookies, from real-fi. I'm sure , you will love them“
Everyone stared at her and as she looked at the board she saw a list of enemy cabins, turned out fantasy hated real-fi the most. It did not bother her as she did not fancy them either. She continued, ”I promised they are not poisonous. And besides Vi was my leader last session I wouldn't want to hurt her. Nobody replied, so she left the basket by the door and left.

Weekly 2

Weekly 3

Weekly 4

Word Wars

Wins: Losses:

Cabin Wars