The playground was quiet, apart from two young girls arguing.
“Lily, you can't” The young, light brown haired girl hissed. Her eyes bulged, and hate pulsed through her veins.
But she seemed…afraid.
The red haired girl laughed, swinging on the swing, launching herself into the air “Who said I can't?”
As she got close to the ground, she suddenly flipped and landed, unharmed. “ Its not hurting you, Petunia”
Petuna snarled, her eyes practicly popping out of her head, and her tight bun presice “Mother says you can't- and /no/ Lily-”
Lily smiled as she held out the flower she had picked. “Come on, young one!”
The flower closed, resembling a bud, but opened again. As Lily pricked her fingers, the shape changed. Finally, it turned into a pale doe.
She whispered to it “Magic” before flicking her wrist, sending it into the air.
Petunia squealed “Stop it Lily” Her tone was filled with fear “Please, stop, Lily-”
Lily turned around, her combed hair loose around her shoulders. “Yes?”
A pale, black headed boy with dark, shadowy eyes dropped down. His face was sealed with a smile, and he took no notice of Petunia.
Looking at Lily, he whispered “Hey Lily.” The coolness had never been there- and the tiny smirk seemed to be an attempt of ‘cool’ vibes.
Lily grinned- but shock shook it off. “Have you been spying on us, Severus?”
Severus refused “No, Lily. I would never” The denial in his tone was trembly, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the romantic trance the attatude come of with.
Lily narrowed her green eyes with suspicion “Are you sure?”
Severus bit his lip. “N-no”
“Hmm…” Lily rolled her eyes “You're a terrible liar, Sev.”
“Well Isn't that a good thing?” Severus snapped sweetly. “It means I'm honest, and I can't keep a secret from you”
Petunia faked gagging. “Ew, are you done-?”
Lily chewed on her hair, tugging the strands gently. “Stop it, Petunia.”
Severus looked at her, panicking slightly.
Lily's stress/panic habits were, well, tugging and chewing on her hair cutely.
But that meant that this wasn't good. It really wasn't good.
Lily fell back onto the grass gently. Severus followed, and as Petunia ran to the otherside of the playground (attempting to avoid attention from severus and lily) they both leaned towards each other.
“Are you excited for Hogwarts?” Severus asked, leaning against the rocky ground.
Lily bit her lip, wondering if she could tell him. But she didn't need to.
“Are you afraid because you're Muggleborn?”
Lily nodded, paling. “Sev-”
Severus smiled, and grabbed her wrist “Lily, promise me that you won't worry”
Lily tried to cut in “But-”
“No buts. You're smart, Lily. You will be better than some purebloods.”
Lily smiled, colour returning to her face “We're going soon, aren't we Sev?”
Severus grinned “Why yes we are. I'm so excited.” But a memory returned to him, and he sunk down sadly.
“Sev? How is- is it at-at your house?” Lily asked gently. It was no secret that Severus was treated badly, and had a bad time at home.
Severus shrugged carelessly “Terrible. But I'm going soon. To hogwarts-”
Lily squealed with excitment “This is so good, Sev, I hope we're in the same house!”
Severus laughed “Please be in sytherin”
His face was filled with delight, and as they leaned together he looked happier than he could ever be.
Lily nervously smiled “B-but what if-if i'm not in Slytherin?” Panic etched across her face, making Severus worry.
“Oh, Lily, it won't matter. I'll still be friends.”
Lily stared at him, shocked “Friends?”
“Yes”
Lily smiled widely “Best friends forever.”

All staff report to security
The demand rang through the crowd, and I picked up my small, overnight bag with a small gesture. My family waved my goodbye, and I timidly walked to security.
Chester smoothed his hazelnut brown hair with delight, and his eyes spat sparkles of joy. “Are you excited, Iris?” Happiness coated his tone in every way possible.
I shrugged, letting my pale face catch his attention. My stare seemed to repeat the words I didn't dare say- “No, look at me.”
Chester held my hand, rolling his eyes gently. “Iris, you don't have to be afraid, its just a plane trip.”
I smiled quietly, before adding to my dislike “My first plane trip as a staff member”
Chester smirked, and he flushed a seashell pink with a pale hue “Hey, I'm not one to be over dramatic”
I bit my lip, panic reaching through my emotions “What is something happens?”
Chester's answer was perfect “We have each other”
I blushed bright red. Me and Chester had always been friends, but it was becoming….something more. I mean, the flirting wasn't just the friendly teasing; it was a whole new level- and calling me Iris? Wow- I wasn't Lilac to him anymore.
But Iris was still a pretty name.
Don't take me wrong, I defiently liked him- more love that friends, actually. I just wasn't ready for it. I was still young, a few years younger than Chester. But until then, I would let the flirting continue.
We gently pushed each other into the aeroplane, bumping the walls as we nudged each other. I wasn't strong enough to avoid the slams, but Chester was probably faking. He was strong. Stronger than me, at least.
Cappy was one of the bosses. She had joined a few years ago, and we had been friends at secondary school. She seemed to have taken a sharp tone, somehow. Her voice was sharp, and sassy.
“Stop messing about.” It was a command, an order and I hated how it was filled with selfish tones. I couldn't connect her to Cappy Bilverwood, the girl who had taken me under her wing, and the girl I came so close too.
Chester stopped suddenly, before grabbing my hand “Who said we couldn't tease each other?” He defended.
But sassy remarks weren't helping.

work in progress (currently)

Daily #8
“You” I whispered, suprisingly calm for meeting my kidnapper. “You.”
Bake smiled menacingly, lowing her eyes as if she was putting dark black sunglasses on; “Yes.”
That was Bake- short, simple answers- that just always never made sense. It was almost comftorting to see her confusing personality again.
But it didn't.
I snarled, smirking coldly “How?” The question was dim, and blank.
Perhaps Bake was growing on me.
No.
I pushed that thought away. Never would she grow on me. Never.
Bake pushed her fingers, stretching them neatly. Counting the knuckles calmly, she responded without looking “I'm smart.”
“Manuplatavtive” I muttered quietly under my breath, the words ragged with betrayal. I had always trusted Bake.
I stared coldly at her empty, emotionless dark eyes. I had trusted them- the stares and glares.
Especially the joyful stares. Even through now I knew they had been fake.
Bake noticed the dark stare, and she traped her long black cape across the ground slowly, spinning around. “Have I been cruel? Have I?” The tone took a sassy aspect that I hated. Especially now she had been found out- and that I had no idea what level of cruelty she had comited.
The cape shrugged loose, and panic grabbed my soul as she showed a deep, scared weapon.
The golden, pale egret flew between us too. The white tone felt like a hope; before Bake pulled the trigger, and the bird mounted of, scars forming as if a sort of dark magic was tortering it.
I screamed as the last piece of hope vanished as it sunk back onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Was there any point in continueing?
Yes.
Turning Bake's smirk into a terror gasp, as she collapsed as the panic reached her.
I'm not cruel to wish for that.
I wasn't cruel.
I leaped out from behind the worn berth. “I'm not hiding, traitor”
I stepped back as I saw Bake's true appearence.
Long, deep strands of hair tied back in a tight bun, instead of flowing down.
But the thing that scared me and tour my emotions into panic was the dark scars running everywhere. From her neck to her pale knees.
Suddenly, everything went numb. I couldn't move as the air escaped from my breath.
I wanted to reach air, to breath. But i couldn't, i was hopeless.
Again, air rushed back to me and I staggered back into the old berth I had taken refuge in.
Bake sniggered “Weakling.”
I clawed my hands together into fists, and control of my mind was released. It was like In was letting a breath out.
When I opened my eyes, the circle of leather berths had rized, and were surrounding me.
But I wasn't crushed.
It didn't hurt.
I had become one with the berths.
Bake's smile vanished as I whispered a command.
She had vanished in seconds.
Victory.
At last.

Weekly #2
The weekly writer
Crime
Sunday
Deep Trust's Scandal Escape
As everyone yawned at the setting sun, we all rested well fed. While we were reading up to the latest news on The Herald, the greatest criminal was escaping.
Deep Trust is a well known criminal who suffered a life sentence in prison for major bank robberies, and smaller robbing activities. The crime that landed them in court was the impersonating deal that he got into a few years ago. They had made a rather shrewd deal with The Greatness about getting prison keys in order to be helped rob a bank with over 100,0000 dollars in each vault. However, The Greatness ended up bailing and spilling the truth, including Deep Trust's identity.
Today, in the early morning as the sun hit the sky Guard Ben returned to check everything was in order- and no one was causing so called ‘trouble’. While all the prisoners remained silent, many still asleep on the floor, one was bounded, gagged and injured. There name is anoymus, but they are reported to be “always awake” and a “late owl.”
Althrough proof is not yet given, many believe that they were staying up- and caught Deep Truth escaping, but when noticed tied up to avoid them calling for the guards.
The gag was reported to be a polishing cloth dropped by a visitor likely talking to another, less dangerous prisoner who they probably had a connection to. The bounds tied against them looked as if it was a shrewd matress off the dark stony bed the prisoners bearing the title ‘dangerous’ slept, tied to the bed by it. The chains were somehow the old rusty chains that were kept to make prison seem more scary. Althrough they've been attempts to take them of, it remained unmanagble, making us doubtful of the situation.
A big question remains: Did Deep Truth have help? If we listen to the clues; it seems so. The rag was perhaps a mistake, but we can't rule out the opinion. How did the chains get of? They would need someone strong; and it remains clear that Deep Truth is not strong enough- nobody has made it possible yet! And getting into another person's cell? Impossible, without someone with a key. Deep Truth has had no contact with keys- never. It doesn't make sense without an ecomplise!
A few suspects of helping are found, but the goverment decided to stay anomouse with names. However, the traits needed to help include “strong”, “intelligant” and “acsess to keys.” Althrough they do not nessisarily need keys to get them, no one has reported to have lost keys.
However, after discussion, the goverment has decided to unleash the full list of traits. We will sadly list them, knowing that lots could fit the discriptions. The goverment note “please tell us if you see anyone with these traits.”
The full list of traits
- Intelligent
- Strong
- Young/Youthfull
- Good desciser (?)
- Great first impressions.
- Secretive (?)
- Quiet
However, please keep in mind that police/spies might intorrigate you; please don't worry, just people with 2+ of those skills will be questioned to avoid losing the culprit.
However, the main focus should be finding Deep Truth before it is too late.
The police is working to create a trap were there is a big (over 10,0000,0) dollar thingy, were we will hoepfully lure Deep Truth.
However please avoid places such as:
-Jewlery places
-Banks
-Mansions/Rich Places
-Supermarket
The goverment will be establishing a new food bying process to avoid contact with supermarkets, which contain some expensive things Deep Truth will likely attempt to steal.
However, in case you forget, Deep Truth had dark, stunning black eyes and short stubby hair- he uses they/them pronouns and usually wears multi-gender clothes.
People in charge of a buisness will recieve a note from High Istministrater about if it is possible to continue work; if you can't (according to records) then you will be given 10,000 dollars to make up for it. Any companys running after being disaproved will be suspended from continuing for months.
“This is for your own good” The goverment keep stating, but still many people protest and run after the goverment with torches smugged with fire, and gigantic pitchforks from the garden. Althrough The Weekly Writer do not encourage the behavour, we are fine wuth many who do it. However, our opinion will likely change if someone on the goverment gets hurt.
The crime scene is closed of as clues may be discovered by hired detectives, but the public may not go to prison without special permission.
Deep Truth remains a secretive criminal that can outsmart forces easily. As panic rises through our streets, they might use it against us- in a very bad way. The best thing to do in this situation is to stay calm through the new adjustments. Everything will be okay, and as soon as Deep Truth is caught, everything will return to perfect normal.
- The Weekly Writer


Restaurant review
Sunday
Les Pique
As you walk around the corner your stomach growls, and hunger rises up. Then something catches your eye.
Its a light beige cafe, with a dusty and faded sign bearing the words “Les Pique” in hazelnut brown letters. The font was a fancy bubble writing with lacy corners. A light flickers inside, as if a fire is being lit. Smoke escapes from the pale brick chimley.
As you open the worn door, a smell hits you- a warm cinnamony smell mixed with a gentle sugar scent.
Les Pique is a cosy cafe that makes cultural food from all around the world. They also have original recipes that can not be made anywhere else in the world. The most celebrated food made their is there “Porque Nosee”, a cranberry dish with cinnoman, sugar and a type of cordala.
Inside are lovely cosy pictures of animals, cottages and children. There are many small tables and a few giant six+ people tables. The counter is made out of oak wood, and behind are several drinks such as lemonade and ginger beer, as well as hundreds of plain glass cups. Books are filled, and taking them is allowed- encouraged!
The staff are perfectly friendly and informational, encouraging questions and setting a gentle and warm mood. They answer historical questions about the place and all share the load. They are yet to give false information- even the most unbelievable facts are true.
The food is terrific! Everything has always been given good feedback- and bad comments are very rare. Food include several types of salty italian goodies- including pizza, melted cheesy scones and squishy garlic bread. Drinks are a soft mixture of lemonade and cordaline, ginger beer and traditional sugary drinks from pacific cultures.
The boss, Lyna, is a world class chef with a masters degree in patineal cooking. She is a caring member of staff, and gives everyone a fair wage. Comments and motto's she influinces and created include “You can't make a pizza without dough” and “A cooking utensil needs to be used to be experienced”. Hard work is something she always attempts to show- and she often sucseeds.
The wait time for an order is actually quite quick for a famous and busy restaurunt- 15 minutes would be an average wait- and with over 65 customers at a time!
When asked several times the most popular dishes are the “maxia macia”, a sticky and stretchy savory roll filled to the brim with cheese and the “manic becanic” which is named for Beeman, the creators favourite superhero. Manic Becanic is garlic bread with parsley sprinkled up on the top. Drink's popular guy is just their cranberry juice, and lemonade poured into it. Another favourite is “GlacieBgr” a traditional pacific favourite.
An aspect of Les Pique is the staff of the month, an award given to one hardworking staff each month. The first staff to recieve this reward was Pice Sprice, the gardener and cooker for the original Les Pique. This month was Picky, a small and young boy who makes the pots and pans- amd serves as a valuble waiter.
When interveiwed Picky seemed nervous and distressed of being surrounded with several people, but still gave a decent answer for each question. “How did you get a job here?” R. L asked, pointing a shiny microphone underneath his chin. Picky replied with a stressed “Well, when I was 12 my family needed money, and I just asked for the job.”
R.L asks gently “Aee you proud?” Picky shakily takes the microphone and whispered, “Yes. But I dn't think I'm the only one who should have it”
After many hours of interviwing, Picky is back at the job- taking orders quickly and efficiently.
Lyna calls after him “This is why I chose you”
Le Pique's name was from a middle aged french poet who created several unpopular peices- that are very underated. The founder, Pisces, loved these poems and named the cafe Le Pique from the artists nickname- the artist was called Leo Piquen!
A new record has been set- other 500 customers arrived yesterday night at Le Pique, and that evening over 10,000 meals were made! This overshadows their old record- 300 customers and 10,00 meals cooked!
Le Pique has had many selling opertunities, people coming over and offering thousands in exchange for the cafe. The commitee has always disaproved this sujjestion, and given the upcoming popularity- that was a good thing. If it was sold, the cooks would change- and that means the food would likely be different and lower quality.
The goverment has issued a new holiday- Le Pique day for the famous restraunt! On monday the 18th, July, school will be canceled and work will be disrupted to celebrate the new culture of food!
Le Pique allow all, and hopefully one day you will experience the delicous food.
- The weekly writer

Advice
Monday
How do I stop procastinating on weeklies and dailies?
Piper, Piper_Camps
The biggest tip is motivation. Motivation can come from your mind convincing you to do it. I would say in this situation the best thing to do is to say out-loud several times “If I do it, it will help my cabin” or “I won't have to do it later”, ect. Althrough this is not 100% quarentued to help, but its been proved to be useful several times
What happens if I have a crush on another scratcher?
Aleia,Starfairyelise
So usually after realising your “feelings” it will be hard to ignore the user, and chats will become more “romantic” (on your or their side (?)) This can grow into a unhealthy relationship. The best thing to avoid this relationship is to question yourself in “why do I like them?” If the answer is something like “they behave like *insert something* then remember- they must act differently in life. Other answers like ”there pfp is cute" is a terrible thing to start a relationship on.
If I purchase fiftyone puppies will my parents get mad?
Panda, SuperPandaGirl1234
Likely. Fifty one puppies barking in your yard? Almost defiently. However, the level of mad will depend of the fact: how much your parents like dogs! If you have allergic or dog haters then likely their reaction will be quite huge (and bad for you.) A more gentle couple with a seeming love for dogs would likely still be mad, but perhaps a grounding or shouting would be your punishment?
I have a sword of legend in my closet. How can I tell if it's magic or not?
Kit, KitVMH
Do not approach. There are many legends of swords that are magical, and they defiently have some deaths in them- we don't want you to be stabbed! Their are a few strategys, and the safest is pricking it several times with a long stick while staying perfectly quiet, or better; not even investing in the mystery. One strategy we reccomend against it making someone else grab it.
Is there a real use for my giant stuffed animal collection?
Rosybeth, -rosybliss-
Honestly? They're many uses for a giant collection. One is attempting to win a world record for it- “giant stuffed collection kid” or “stuffed toys=big” could defiently make the picture. A similar use, getting onto the news (national or international) will be a great way to get popularity. Why don't you sell a few of the stuffed animals? You would make a profit, and give some a new magical home and owner. If you don't want to do that, just keep them- maybe one day a young child will come and want to play. You could use that! Or you could play by yourself with them- who said that older children can't play with soft toys and dolls?
Can I sell my old (and slightly terrifying) dolls from my childhood?
Rosybeth, -rosybliss-
Perhaps. I mean, you would defiently need to polish them and add a few modern features, and clean them up- but it is possible. I would reccomend selling them for a low price, since of the “terrifying” part of them, but hopefully you will be able to stop that “spooky” vibe. Polishing tips would be likely just braiding the hair, adding marker patterns and glueing stuff to the face and dress!

Horoscopes
Sunday
Aries
This is your time to shine, Aries. Explore the mysteries you discover, and take charge of an awesome team. You might take reckless paths, but nothing will stop you from reaching your goal. Stay strong, and remember to lead your team with pride.
Gemini
This week, Gemini, you will have sudden brain flashes. Take time to jot down the ideas that rush into your brain, and let the ideas lead you to a destination. Don't block of your creativity, and write down every idea: even the chaotic one. Everyone wants to see what you make!
Leo
Remember to connect with everyone you meet. Perhaps talk to an old friend, or walk around the neighbour hood greeting everyone. This week you will create new friends, and remember that lies can not create good relationships. Remain honest, and enjoy your new friends.
Libra
Through the following week, you will have to take the choice of either creating a fake friendship, or losing a valueble friend. Remember to take the right decision; the one that you believe is right. Perhaps it will be alright? Always stay true to yourself, even through the consiquensios might be big.
Sagitourus
Instead of remaining independent you will find a group to connect with. Usually you would take a risk, but remember with a team responsiblity will be greater. Althrough the challenges up ahead, you will remain loyal to your friends.
Aquarius
Ths week you will remain optimistic through the struggles that reach you, such as fake friends and sibling ‘wars’! Remain calm, and remember that everything will be okay. It is good to be optimistic! You will guide a loyal friend through there difficutly, and be rewarded greatly
Taurus
You will go through a time of stubbornness, were you go through a hard working and loyal phase. Keep your friends close, and try not to lose control. Although stubborness is okay, try to still be open to other ideas, and agree with others.
Cancer
Through your week, you will feel insecure and sensative, jumping and reacting to the slightest word. Still, stay calm and try not to react in a way that could hurt the other person (mentally or physacly) or ruin a friendly relatioship.
Virgo
Its time for some big perfectionist vibes, Virgo. You will often doubt your skill by comparing it to someone elses. This is also the peak of your loyalty. It is important to stand up for people, and your perfectionist phase will not ruin your loyalty.
Scorpio
A friend will trust you with a big secret, and it is up to you to stop yourself from blabbermouthing the truth. Someone you are close to will turn to someone else, and leave you jelous. Even through it may seem hopeless, it will be okay.
Capricorn
Althrough your organised personality, you will end up with an ambition that you will achieve- whatever it takes. This may cause you to become messy and late, but this isn't a bad thing. This is a stage almost everyone goes through, and don't let this put you down
Pisces
Most people will come for you, ranting about difficulties in there life. You must remain symapthetic, and will guide them through there personal trauma. However, it will not be a piece of cake. You must use your imagination to help them solve the problem.

Adalade Prime

Description
Long blonde hair with light shades of brown combined with pale yellow gradients and orange strips streaked through her hair. Sage green eyes with darker glossy spots dipped around the outside with fresh white highlights. Pale skin with several freckles on her button nose and cheeks.
A sage green t-shirt with a white collar and lacy ends of the sleeves. Gold leather patches on both shoulders, with dusty pink tones blending with the rich gold. A small skort pale white in colour, with sliver tight belts (?).
Personality
At first sight
(+) Friendly, helpful
(good+bad) Optimistic, emotional
(-) Naive, Gullible
When well known
(+) Brave, imaginative
(good+bad) Honest, Loyal
(-) Fear, despite
.
Power
Adalade has manifested with the power of sensing peoples emotions. This causes often breakdowns from the emotions crashing into her. She can also control emotions lightly, however the control is not her desicion often.
Weaknesses/Flaws
At first sight
Is easily fooled
Doesn't believe that the cruels of the world are true
Obeys people without realising
When you know them
Sarcastic
Fear when facing “traitors”
Strengths
At first sight
Creative when it comes to situations
Imagination- always thinks outside of the box
Good impressions
When you know them
Determand to finish her task
Loyal to close friends
Strong beliefs- will always side with her belief

The notebook
The notebook was pastel pink, the colour of a child's bedroom. The pink glimmered in the sun, and the margin was a dark gold, practicly brown in colour. There were spiral patterns littered over the front cover, the same mustard brown as the margin. In the direct middle was a pastel yellow box, curved at the ends. Soot black lines zoomed across the box, where you should write your name. The box was empty, no handwriting looping across it.
The back was the same, flipped. The unpleasent vibe of “copying” wafted of it, making the cover much more enjoyable.
Where the cover's were tied together, white wool threaded through them, binding the book together sweetly. When you ran a finger gently up and down on the yarn, the wool gave a soft prick to your thumb. It was a lovely sensation- a bit like running your hand against a prickly plant but its covered in a warm and fuzzy jumper.
Inside were pages and pages of white paper with dark lines running through. They were blank and boring, and the only slightly interesting thing was the remarkable fact that the lines darkened as the pages swept along- and so did the shade of white! It actually would seem quite easy to do, but how smoothly they changed was the fact many noticed. As you swiftly turned the pages you would not notice- until you compared the beggining to the end!

The life of a student
Lily brushed her hair out of her dark eyes, smacking the sides of her head in progress. “Oh well,” she whispered, sticking down the plaster curling up. “At least its medical class next!” She sighed, before trudging into the small sickbay. Only 10 students got in- and that depended on a letter they wrote and their grades from last year.
Ms. Pequa called for everyone to calm down, before picking up a gigantic bag filled with plasters, ice packs and casts. “Hello everyone” she whispered, filling the air with her soft quiet voice. “Welcome to medical class.” Lily took out a rose gold notebook and flung the cover open, picking up a new pen and cautionly starting to take notes.
After the speech, Pippy, Lily's best friend slipped down to her desk “Heya, Lily”. Lily smiled warmly “Hey, Pip, are you excited?” Pippy shook her head sadly “My parents forced me to. Something like ‘to get good grades’ was the excuse- but im unhappy-”
Lily's eyes widened “But Pip, this is a great class!” Pip shook her head neatly “Not for me.”
Lily met her gaze “I'm sorry, pip.” Pippy smiled and ran back to her more messy, untidy desk.

Glaciers popped off the gleaming roof of the stony, dark cave. Echoes hissed, pouncing out of caves as if stabbing innocent prey. Ice covered the ground, snow heaving into heavy groups. Water trickled off the growing leak, rushing water into a small, tiny puddle.
At the back of the gloomy cave was one single log and several moutains of snow. Steaming food sat in the middle, the smell luring many to it. The food seemed to be something like a cross between a blueberry pie and apple crumble, with icecream and gelato dripping into the squishy delicous middle. The topping was like cream swirling around, and the smell was fresh muffins.
There was a small opening squeesed at the end, so tiny that it didn't even really bother many to try and find out what was there. But inside was…
so many bunkers, and cots. Drawers oak wood and wardrobes made out of plastic filled through, many lumps in the beds snored, seemingly humans asleep.
At the end was a gigantic queen bed, with a gem throne sitting next to it elegently. Pictures of young people doing all the normal young stuff young people did when they were larking about.

Crystals littered the cabin, purple ones sparkled and gleamed- amythests. The pale opals shined with delight, and the sage green emeralds popped out with their bright eye popping colour.
The beds were white, the bedspreads grey and white lacy at the end. Flowers were printed on on shiny grey colour.
Magic reached out from the ceiling, showing off dark purple spots and blue stripes. The floor was a leather fabric, mixed with gentle curtains trailimg against thye floor.
I bit my lip on the shrink candy, and everything became much bigger, the crystals the size of giants! The shrink candy was like eating gold, sunshine eaking into my veins- but something was happening to my body. My arms were like clinking keys, and my legs? Marshmellows in size.

Laughter rang off the echoing walls, the pale rooms trembling as shouts and rants shrieked loudly, pounding on the corridoors.
We all rampaged, racing past several clean white doors with bronze writing on them reading “horror” or “myth”.
The scenery was blank, nothing. Just endless walls and the occasional window seeing out onto a endless sky. Nothing special.
Many might consider this boring, but it was heaven to every writer.
Including me.
Everyone halted to a stop, panting for breath and hacking and coughing from the seemingly endless run. But nobody stopped there. Pushing, shoving and tugging went on forever, and shouts for the first place went again and again, on and on, one argument after another.
But it seemed more like camp rivalry now, nobody grabbing at the silver shiny doorknob.
It was weird, the lack of fights to open the door- and I took the chance. The chance to be first. I had registered resonably late, but that didn't matter. All that mattered to me is to recieve my cabin, see the cabin leaders and co-hosts. Everything I was wishing so much for.
I don't know what happened. I just reached for the door, and spun it open. Charging through the door as if I was full of electricity, I burst in, competing for the place.
Everyone had noticed it, and jumping up and down attempting to shove there way into first place, there attempts were weak. I just shook off the annoying clingy ones and smacked my hand down on the counter hardly, making a deep print on my hand. Everyone could see that I had won, I got to see my cabin first.
A young women with dark curly hair and black eyes that seemed to swallow- hug you with warmth- appeared up behind the counter with a gentle and rich smile. “Good job, Dearie.” She chuckled lightly, letting the grey strokes in her hair shine. “I was like you, always first in the race, when I was younger.”
I laughed gently “I'm not usually first, I guess I just took advantage….”
She smiled widely “So modest.” Chuckles filled the room and everyone glared at me from their line. A silent warning to get to the point.
I leaned back, shaking slowly. “Letter, please?” My voice trembled and I shuddered as the letter was taken from the rose pink drawers.
As I sprinted out of the hall, she whispered after me “Don't let them be the boss- be the boss” I left just in time to hear her call “Next” as if nothing had ever happened.
My hands ripped the envelope quickly, and my eyes scanned the first sentence quickly.
“Dear Bea Brook, we have accepted your letter”
Ugh.
I lept to the important sentence, and my jaw slacked in excitment in pure joy.
Adventure.
My eyes sparkled as I shouted out. “ADVENTURE RULES!”

Daily <33
Bea is a very extreme worrier, using that too somehow stay up the entire night panicking that someone is being attacked, killed or hurt. Her sleep times never change, and although constant therapy from Stone, her sleeping habits remain minimum. The average sleep for her would either be a few hours after noises stopped, but waking up even at a tiny creak. Her latest is 4 hours, that happened after her first session with Stone, and her latest being nothing at all- something that happens more than once, and isn't classified as “rare”.
Sun seems to have given Bea her worrying vibes, and I don't blame her. Sun has constantly faced trouble, from Crest leaving to Ester not returning. Her sleep habits actually seem better that our heroine- four thirty seems decent from our amazing and sweet warrior. Her latest actually isn't too bad, five a clock isn't bad if you sleep for ages as a queen- and people must also consider that she has to look after dozens of kits and aprentaces that come- and she has to take control over the slightly concerning crazy elders.
Ester is a normal kid, going to sleep late, as a teenager in winglet ages, and sleeps for as long as she can before being tossed awake by her boyfriend or Silver (the town leader). Usually ten a clock would be a normal night, and waking up at 9 by an angry boyfriend or irriatated leader would be her “casual” start to the day. Honestly Ester is a late owl, although she likely shouldn't be able to stay up fooling around as she had abandoned Sun and is never there for the pack, or her siblings and family.
Stone happens to be an early nighter, but an early bird. And by the clique, “gets the worm”, Stone's early sleeping habits have some uses! Like a little kid, Stone starts to go to bed at seventhirty, before at eight falling asleep. Waking up at six thirty is actually quite early for Winglets, that makes the early night worth the early private times. Priorities include the silent time to remember his sister, Lila, who died and a fresh start to the day ahead. To be honest we must let him have early sleeping habits since he has to mentor Bea and act like a therapist.
Crest's sleeping habits are currently unknown, from him leaving Sun before Bea was born. Hopefully, as readers believe, Sun and her children haunt him and let him get less and less sleep every time he thinks about them.

Adalade's POV
I leapt onto the hard wooden bench that viewed the everlasting green hills and clawing oak trees. It was the perfect place to be alone and relax- as well as finish homework without scrunching it up in a ball.
I reached into the overfilling leather I had plonked beside me, and grabbed a neat, clean paper filled with several hard, long and boring questions. And you have to show your marking!
Ugh.
Oh well. I took out a sparkling purple gel pen before biting my lip in disbelief, shoving it to the side and grabbing a light mechanical pencil. I clicked the button at the end and tugged on one of my nails. Then my eyes widened and I leapt across the page, my hand a blur. Question after question, I was revolving the answer in my head before scribbling my strategy down.
I imagined the shiny, glimmering A I would get on this homework. I'm not a straight A student, I'm one to drop down into the B's but I never get lower than that.
Wind battered me, and dark storm clouds formed in the sky. I tugged at my homework, shielding it while finishing the last difficult question with the 25 multiplication and adding the one several times
When I had finished rain was dripping down and the wind was taunting me with it's strength.
I raced back to my block, promising myself to not get close to anyone. Their emotions? I could feel them and change them. And I couldn't control it.
The little kids were jumping in the puddles, and they cutely waved to me.
I got the first tingle of an emotion, happiness. It was very strong, Happiness.
I stumbled back, waving before racing back to my block.
When I reached the silver block with bronze doorknobs into pale classrooms I jumped up the stairs quickly.
There were many people here, and I waved cautiosly at them. They stared back at me and disgust poured at me from their emotions.
I mumbled “I- uh” and rushed into room “bbc”

Daily
If I had to show a story, retell an event, I would explain this story. I'm proud of it, the skill I had dedicated for it, but I wouldn't talk about it because of that, no. I would talk about it because of what it means to me, how much it shows my personality.
I worked magic with arrows and bows, each shooting across into the middle of the target. Again and again, the shots never failed me. Accuracy was one of my strong points, but the strength was equally impressive.
I had no lucky arrow. The biggest, worst problem of my young career- I had no lucky arrow. Each arrow I shot landed the same. Well- I may add, but none especially good for me, since all of my shots were perfect. I just wanted needed an arrow that I was used to, and loved so much it just did my orders- took them out in delight! One with dents and knocks, but still not enough to effect the overall accuaracy and strength.
Father, he was the one to give me the lucky arrow. He had been super secretive, sneaking around and going on lots of suspicous phone calls. He always used to call phones “little rascals for snoopy nosy noses” but now he went on them- did he classify as a “snoopy nosy nose” now, I remember wondering.
Now I pinch myself after what he did for me.
One day Father came home with one of those mysterius grins and as he played the fiddle he literally whistled slowly- something he would call “lame”! The day afterwards I wasn't being tutored by him how to sling the bow back to give me a bit more power, instead I found myself following him into a dark cave. The walk didn't take long- only around two minutes. It felt long, really long.
Inside the cave we didn't take long (around 3 minutes?) A crackle filled the cave, and Father ran back. He urged me to follow, but I wanted to know more. Father, he only got me because of the arrow he had made in there. He waved it up in the air, pricked his finger on the sharp end.
I was lured by the arrow.

Daily
TW
We live in a world were nothing is fair.
Chester's jaw dropped low and his eyes filled with emotions of protest- and anger. “Hey.” He called cooly, his tone snarky “I should have won. Archie was second, I won fair and square.”
I snorted horribly, hatred filling my expression “This is life. What do you expect?” I tossed a glare at him that seemed to tell him my words: “grow up, kid.”
Chester growled softly, getting my message. And he didn't like it. He rammed into me, puncturing my clothes with deep dark holes. His face lit up as soon as he delivered the blow.
Pain had hit me and I buckled over, my stomach collapsing. I heard the older kids laughing about “a young little girly” as I struggled to breath with the air just leaping out of reach.
I took my glare to Chester, who was parading around like he had one a war- or wrestled a boar and completed the challenge! His eyes, when we met, turned cold as if a blast of wind had just smacked me in the face. “Who won now?” He asked me with great glee, hoping I would say that he had won the race I had judged.
But I didn't cooperate. “Archie did.” I replied, strained and my eyes watering.
Chester glared at me, dragging his finger across his throat. “Well, you're wrong. Bye.” He greeted sweetly, before skipping away laughing his head off with his delight.
I hissed and stood up, my nose numb and my feet trembling from the scrapes riddled across the skin. Only a few people remained, including the little kids I was supposed to look after for the day. They were so cute and innocent, as soon as I crossed the lonely, deserted coridoor my pain vanished.
I spent the rest of the day telling the kids of memories of me when I was little, and taught them the ways to use paint to make wonderful creations. They all warmed up to me, the little kids, hugging me and calling me amazing, begging me to come next time I had “Teacher module.” I told them I might, it depended on my schedule, and at the end of the day Ms Creacher thanked me. I went out of the classroom giving the children a drawing of them with me, and hugged Rosy, the youngest and shyest.
Teacher Module that day had been a sucess.
As I walked through the bustling halls, Archie nudged me nervously. HIs usually handsome features were messed up with worry, and he delivered the lines with panic. “Chester said- said that you were a sucker and need to show skill at the hockey match on friday or be declared a disgrace to the school” He paused, taking a deep breath before quickly adding “So sorry Dawn, I'm rooting for you.”
He dissapeared, leaving me in suspence.
THe day afterwards the whole school was buzzing with words about the hockey match, and badges seemed to have appeared- with words such as “chesterftw<33” and “goforchester”, but suprisingly (/sarc) none for me. However Archie had set up some stalls selling “dawn merch”, that made me feel slightly better as I headed to Speaking- the only class that included me having to give Chester eye contact during my speaches.
The days passed in a blur, rumors getting worse- my pulse quickening with every word someone said. I became twitchy, practicing my skills in every single minute I had to spare.
We were playing one on one hockey, me and Chester, so I would have to defend as well- something I was never that good at. I played against my siblings and parents whenever they could spare a bit of time, and although I always won panic still reached me often.
Chester, he was good at attacking and defence. His weakness was dribbling and tackling, but his potental was big- so I had to be very careful. My hockeystick, it became very worn out, but every time I set it down it got better and healed quickly in a matter of hours. I can't imagine what its state would be after the match!
The day arrived. Rain poured down, and wind battered the trees with great strength. I spent the whole day praying the match wouldn't be called off, but in the end the worst news came.
“The hockey match has been canceled.”
We live in a world were nothing is fair.

Weekly #3
Part one
- A good education system
- Democracy
- Gives blacksmith vibes
- The symbol of evil are olive leaves
- Banana's have been banned
- The symbol of good is a hammer (that is represented in the flag)
- Magic is very important to them
- Romance is marked “not important”, and couples are rarely celebrated
- Entertainment is only used on public holidays
- Diet is quite varied, certain types of meat such as bacon are looked down on, and so are all fruits (apart from mangoes)
- Bakers are looked down on
- Blacksmiths are the best job- and the most common job
- Children raised to believe in the myths and tales
- Children seen as innocent and cute/harmless
- Schools have a light acadamia aesthetic all round
- Most myths are believed to be “real and out to hunt them”
- Family bonding nights are always spoken highly of.
- “Modern” trends are not spoken highly of, and are rarely used (unless in the “modern” parties, where they are dubbed)
- Politics rarely talked about
- Everyone “happy” about the current rule
- Rebels have a symbol- a dark shadow erupting from a bunch of olive leaves
- Everyone has a rather scottish (males) or irish (females) accent.

Away from the world filled with war, the tidy, fair land of Aria lies to the east. Ruled by a democratic government, this country has risen due to the collaboration and effort given to make Aria a haven of love and learning, unlike other failed countries where the focus has been on gaining power, money- or having a government with only one person in charge- only one person with actual power.
The main reason the country has thrived is because of the education system, although with its flaws, has a curriculum to show the ways of leadership as well as other subjects- meaning that pupils will have a higher chance of being a good and fair governor. And maybe one of the reasons students have thrived on the learning is the homey aesthetic put on schools, the cosy vibes sweetly making it much easier to learn and take in the knowledge.
History being a very important part of the culture and learning of Aria, and how history has made its way to today, citizens of Aria despite modern “trends”, acting like they play on historical ways to do stuff and these “trends” are never seen, unless in Modern Parties where everyone makes a fool of their self by dressing up in weird “modern?” clothes and prancing about.
However, these parties are saved for public holidays, since everyone in the community praise hard work and find it the key to sucsess. Entertainment isn't “frowned down on”, they are not encouraged unless it is an official holiday.This is to make work more special and more products made from work days! Usually there are only 1,2 and 3 day holidays- but Arina's founding day (Ackrey) is a 2 week holiday!
However, even with the few meaningless holidays Aria has, people still are fond of the current democratic rule! Of course this is a suprise given the happiness in having a day off. But it remains a fact- Aria citizens are fine and good with the goverment!
Hmm, a new aspect put on children- made by the government. Children have been raised to believe in all ridiculous myths, including Myhyth, the one who created “evil” and Praisea, the women who wanted more than anything to be admired for her beauty. They are also portrayed to be sweet, loving, caring and innocent- making kids feel bad by pressuring the stereotype.
But it isn't just kids that believe in myths! All scary, cruel myth villians (cressia, villan, ect.) are believed by the entire community to be out in the wild lands of the more “boring” lands filled with 0% magic. And- to make the fear worse- everyone believes they are out to get them!!!
However it seems that only hero's have scottish or irish accents, since they speak english with that tone.

Finally.
I scattered across the town, my feet blurred across the pavement. I crossed a few empty, deserted roads- but I met nobody; everyone was busy at the annual “modern” parties- thank goodness Father didn't bid with that nonsense- “silly stupidity” he called it last time he got invited.
I looked at the signs and windows of each shop- all of them giving off the blacksmith vibe I loved. They also all had dusty soot stuck on the showing tools, and the signs read “Blacksmith TM” or “Best BS In Town”.
I finally reached our house. It was quiet, almost dead quiet. Father was probably asleep, Middy was going to one of those “riffraff modern balls for stuck up princesses” and Ovvi, she was always one to be busy learning how to be a wonderful daughter and cook and sweep.
I entered, and I saw one of the beige envelopes from school, with all the “learning” vibes sweeping off it. Yelling at Father to wake up, I bit my lip and ripped the envelope. I was supposed to supervise Ovvi, and this was from school- I was too old to and so was Middy.
Funnily enough, in this letter, Ovvi was portrayed as a lightheaded, absent minded, innocent girl who was having a hard time at school. Wow. Ovvi was perfectly fine with her smarts, and she knew a lot.
But it's what it is with children and schools. Children and the community. Almost everywhere this was what they thought of kids. Small but brave kids. Weird.
The door creaked open and Middy went in, wearing a pink gown and lacy gloves that feel silky- and rich pearls. She has holding hands with her boyfrie- her friend.
She was actually dating him, but romance isn't important in Aria- so she's been keeping quiet about it. Very quiet, not even Father knows! I saw them kissing, but I promised not to tell so I couldn't answer to Father about “if you know about Middy being suspicous”.
The thing I don't like about Middy after a big ball is the gossip. All about politics (well only with her group- nobody else talks about that) and the newest “fashion”, that is usually a horrible new fur coat or crispy terrible dress corset. Ugh, I know.
Today it was politics, about a fake “riot” about the new democracy. She reenacted the “leaders” words, although she should know its fake.
Father had waken up from the shouts Middy had called, and now Middy was attempting to convince Father to spend our year of bread money on the new “dress gown” fashion.
Oh well.
I defiently need to convince Father to not allow that.

Part 2
What kind of magic is used in your world?
The magic is elementary, one element given to each person- but instead of the normal “water, fire, air, earth, ect.” there is “bronze, silver, gold, metal, copper” with bronze the strongest magic and gold the weakest. The element allows you to do what ever the element allows you too, with one main skill granted to each element. Bronze is feeling and controlling emotions, silver is invisibility at will, gold is making silence at will (blocking people from talking), metal is manipulating any solid item into changing its density, and copper is telepathic skill. However with skill and teaching from others with there element they will unlock other skills.

How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
Magic is used in daily lives often. Magic is part of the world, why wouldn't they use it? Magic is used to help with tiring jobs, from forcing the broom to self sweep the floor, to turn on the fan- some young kids even using magic to feed their little siblings! Turn on the light switch- Make the salad- Magic is used to often Mothers enchant objects to care for there kids while going shopping. Healers and doctors? “Get the medicine on the shelf” or “Bandages please” could technacly heal there patient much quicker! However magic can only help with the skills you have “unlocked”

What is an important symbol of your world?
The most important symbol included in every day life, the flag and used in common signs- also in every buisness logo, we may add. It is one hammer, showing the blacksmith-y theme in the world, given the “elements” and just “working” vibes the country gives off. Twined wires twist around the handle, sprouting the ends at the actual hammer part- at the head. Each wire has its own unique colour - showing the different “elements” while still fitting the theme. The background is a dark grey with no sparkles or shimmer or glimmer- making it very different from the silver wire. Splotches of black fit into the edges, looking a little dusty.

What is the origin of your magic?
The origin of magic is very misleading, but all stories lead back to Iorn Smelt, a well known blacksmith from the 19 centuries. He is known for being mistreated and forced to work until his hands bled from the tiring work. One day, after smelting some copper (hence the name Smelt), he decided something new. He had never attempted to use all 5 main materials (our “elements”) and focus on what he could make if he melted them all together! When doing so, the force of the power rained down on the city- creating magic. The “magic” sank into the ground, and when the revelotounary lived underneath the city years ago, they got magic on them- and they are our ancestors, and the magic has passed through generation to generation.

How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic? It is the important factor- you can not “not have it” (well so far..) You have to be from the bloodline of one of the revelutionaries, but if you are then you will have powers. No question. And only magical characters can live in the country, so so far magic is extremely common, but compared to the real world there aren't too many magic people. Yes, you have to be aware. I mean- please- how can you not if you live in a magical community? However if one was born outside the country, it would depend if they knew.
What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
The limitations are the creativity of the person- and their “element”. It is not a shock that magic can't do everything- and this world isn't an exception! I mean, you need to have unlocked that skill- and unlocking takes time and effort. If you don't have something; you can't actually do it, so moving objects or healing might not be availiable to you. And there are also just powers you need an element for- its just the way it works! If your copper then you never can be able to sense emotions, such as Bronze can!

How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Magic is everything! Literally everything! Everything is based on it, there is no way to avoid it! This means that magic is considered important- a magical and great- amazing thing! As many say “a great gift to society”, magic is amazing in the views of others living in this time period, and a great honor to get an element, so magic is looked up as a wonderful gift. Magic isn quoted to be “a perfectly fascinating element- no pun intended” but May June and others.

Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
The sensations, using 5 senses, would be quite an interesting experience, as everyone who has magic knows. The tingle sensation would first appear in your fingers, prickling intensly like playing the piano on the sun, the keyboard being the sun. However it is not overwhelming, as has been quoted. A small, unintentional humming will increase in your head, unable to be heard by anyone else. The humming will lighten as the magic is slowly stopping, and end completely when the magic stops. Your vision will dim with sparkles and glitter in your elements colour, glazing over your eyesight before fading, leaving small prints on your cheeks. You will smell baking muffins, cakes, with sweet lemon icing as well- with a mango touch- you can smell the mango flesh as the smell leaves. And the last one- taste. Small candies tasting like lollipops will erupt in your mouth, and maranges as well!

How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
The education system is rather old fashioned (well for a magic world), featuring only classic “fantasy” classes. Stuff such as ability control, potions and others are taught- and maths and science are not studied- marked “too human-y” by the world. Classes featuring “ability control” are set into groups- one teacher for each “element”. Potions are held in the courtyard, where many ingredients are harvested for lessons. The only “human-y” class in theory is history- but everything is so different! History is taught with re-enacting, and what is taught is different- considering the different events.

What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
Nobody knows. Magic in this world, strangely, has no record of getting out of control in history! However, it is clear that if it got out of control then chaos would rain on history. Tsunaimi's, Tornados- all of these are possible to occur if magic got out of hand. After a bit of research, it has appeared that everyone with the “element” of the one facing a lack of control would rise with power, while the others power sunk lower and lower down!

Part three
Hidden world
I blinked in the mirror, blank confusion flooding my vision.
Weird.
The mirror had always been a place to remember. On the side wrote the description- the words my mother had written before dying. “Love is never one to end.” In the corners were the doodles of us three, mother, father and me.
But now its just me and my father.
And the mirror right now was interesting. It had white orbs splashing into it, but the orbs couldn't be seen by my dad. Or anyone else, for that matter. I had confirmed they were real- they even appeared in the photo's I took of the mirror. But nobody else can see them!
I used to have friends. A few friends. Maya and Miry, Ace and Pip. But now “little Penny” only has one friend- Brook. And I love Brook. She understands, she believes in the mirror.
Perhaps she can't see the glassy orbs splutter and gag. But she believes.
This is why I trust her.
More than anyone.
You know, I believe that Mother never died. I love her so much, the healthy young women- how could she suddenly have something go wrong in her body.
Thats why I did the impulsive thing.
Grab Brook's pale hand, shove her into the mirror and jump in afterwards. I did apoligize, I promise.
But we didn't shatter the glass.
No, we didn't.
Something else happened. Something weird that sent Brook into a panic, were her heartbeat paused and I had to force her to breath heavily- the only way for her pulse to continue.
We were taken to this place I couldn't touch. I just felt emptiness, exhaustion from keeping up with this. I wasn't scared. I was sure this was why Mother used to always say “your legacy, dear.” Why would she just randomly sing that to me?
My vision opened, and bright lights flashed in my brain. Brook was knocked out cold next to me.
“The heir, Penny, she's here.”
That was the last words I heard for a few days.

Science Fantasy
Levi smiled at Nova with delight. “We're away from the battle zone now!” Nova nodded quietly, sadness pouring into her eyes and tears dripping off her face at an alarming rate. “Just…yeah.”
It had been months since the war had started, and now on the airship everyone who had signed up to help were living well- away from the bombs and guns.
Levi was so excited- she was an orphan who had nobody back home. But Nova had a family. Big Ben, Benji, Brooklyne, and her parents. They weren't well enough to devote their life on the airship, so she had been left alone to sign up.
“ Come on…” Levi mumbled “We have to help with the clogs, and adjust the robots.” She stands up calmly, dragging Nova up. “And we get to see the guy with shadow control..”
Nova jumped up in excitment “They guy with shadow control?” She adjusts her worker uniform “I'm coming- count me in.” She stumbles and trips, landing in a messy heap. “I'm still in” she calls out.
Levi laughs, doubling other in chuckles “Gosh, you are clumsy, Nova.” Nova teases her back “Says the person who fell into a wedding cake a few months ago.”
“Humph.”
They climb up the wooden ladder into the control room. It is full off buttons, the newest tech installed in every nook and cranny. Nova squeals and runs to the nearest dock point, but shadows pin her back. “Hey-” She protests, but blushes gently as she sees who is doing it. “Hey.” She mutters quietly, leaning against the control panel in a frenzy.
The shadow boy puts up his cloak and dark black hood. “Don't touch anything, or else.” He warned, forcing shadows back into his jet black nails. His hood slips off, and his cheeks are highlighted with blush as he looks at Nova gently.
Robots with white bodies and sage green panels whizzed over. “Master.” They croaked, their voices weirdly textured. The shadow controlling boy smiled at them “Hey, Chrissies.” He sent a few sparkling dark shadows into their hands, forcing them to thrust out and there eyes to shine.
Nova gasped, blush bleeding into her expression.
The shadow boy pulled off his hood once more, but his face was reconisable now.
Levi hissed, mistrust filling her voice. “Christopher?”
The boy laughed. “Yes.”
The clogs on the moving machinery stopped as Nova's heartbeat stopped. “What-”

Dystopian Fantasy
I hurried across the misty tunnels, filled with several bucket fulls of water and steam- fog drifting up the tunnel. I didn´t stop, didn´t pause- just running across making sure not to speak- even a squeak could give us away.
A year ago, magic was out ruled by the government. The magical members of the community were left to live in exile- but the few who were not caught lived in the scrapped underground train system.
They had to collect food, steal and help others out to survive under the tracks- right under the noses of the community.
I paused, listening to the thumping footsteps gleaming in the darkness. I bit my lip, my worrying habits returning. Not now, I thought, panic rising through my body.
People filled the room, around ten living humans. I screamed- why? Where these people from the government? Power blasted from my hands, out of control- reaching out and grabbing the others with frost. They turned into ice statues- perfectly still and lifeless.
I was alone.
Power coursed through my veins, filling the air with cold gasps of wind. I collapsed in a heap, all my hope gone. Frost glazed in my eyes and my blue nails clipped- the shape of a pale snowflake appearing on all of them.
Everything went dim, my power not stopping. It still worked like a laser on the cavern, the mist and fog being propelled back and the steam rising with power- and extreme control and intelligence.
Weird. I didn´t think that- I felt too numb to think. But if I could and felt okay with thinking- I would say that- mutter it out loud; shout it. Use all my power to scream it.
A few seconds later, lights filling the area and the air broke. Gasping, doubling over, soldiers pinned me down as I coughed deeply ¨Please-¨ I mumbled softly as the net rang around me, and the weapons clinked with each other in a sort of cheer.
¨We caught a magical member!“ They laughed to each other.
They glared at me with disgust ¨The government- why, your punishment-”

Daily <33
We all love SWC fanfiction (or at least I do)! Today, we’re putting a twist on SWC fanfiction: rewriting a classic fairy tale or children’s story as if it takes place at SWC. Maybe the three little pigs are campers who won’t go to bed, or the rabbit hole takes Alice to SWC! Your story must be 500 words to earn 700 points. If you share your writing, you can earn an extra 200 points!

I pulled off my white sheet, sending it onto the carpet. I stood up, stumbling over my notebook and stepping on one of the more stubby pencil- my companion for life.
I admit it, I'm not the most graceful. But I'm not going to admit to being clumsy.
My stomach growled and I really wanted the delicous smell wafting from the kitchen, so I got dressed hastily, clinking my belt together as I made my way down into the living room.
Dawn was beckoning me to come down and enjoy breakfast- the “classic swc” feast with Paper Muffins, Writing Toast and Pentella (the new edition of nutella- for writers!!!)
I grabbed a chair, pulling it out hastily before slumping in it, filling my plate with each new tasty dish. Soon I took my bronze and silver fork and stabbed it into the overfilling plate, getting a warm melting taste pouring into my mouth at a lovely rate.
Dawn put my feast to an end, sitting down and glaring at me with caring eyes. “Comet, please, tell me, can you do something?” She opened a fresh contaner filled to the brim with mangoes, and sat them down in the middle of the table.
Lovely juicy scents blossomed in the room, and my eyes watered from the lovely looks of the mangoes. I reached across the table, murmuring softly to myself.
“Uhuh.” Dawn tutted “These are for Real-Fi, our best allies. This-” She added, pointing to a ripe mango with the most beautiful pattern on it you could imagine “-Is going to be yours. If you deliver these to Real-fi.”
I hesitated, but Dawn waved the Mango under my nose so temptingly- I couldn't resist.
“Sure.” I agreed, before setting off.
I reached a crossroad. One path, the quicker and easier path went through a dangerous woods- with Myth cabins and Myth campers- and the slower, less exciting way- through the perfect procastination fields and meadows, the stream of writing.
I've always been adventourus, I wanted to choose the dangerous path, the challenging one.
The woods it was.
After a little while of the endless forest, the darkness shadowed me and the darkness filled the air gloomily. Cackles errupted from the trees, and branches snapped. Owls hooted, and the distant train tooting noise lowered a pitch.
A deep voice called out from behind me, and out stepped a dark headed boy with glossy eyes and a dangerous smirk- teeth dangling out slightly like a handsome pirate. His hand was scarred, tales of torture behind every scratch.
This male was dangerous, he was in myth. I could tell from the grin and pierced ears, from the way he flinched in a rather- well- different way.
He took an arm around me, and I reminded myself that Adventure and Myth did not mix. I attempted to get out of his hold, but he talked to me in such a soothing way, I just couldn't!
He looked at me deeply, in wonder, I think. He opened his mouth and talked with great delight. “Hello dear, so far from home?” His tone- wow- it was amazing, glimmering, lighting a fire inside me.
I had forgotten how good Myths are at that kind of stuff.
I answered sweetly “Why, Mr, I'm going to Real-Fi to deliver mangoes. Fresh”
He gave me a warm, friendly smile, and I didn't notice him clenching his teach and putting his hands into a fist. “Interesting.”
I bit my lip as I looked at the darkening sky “I must be on my way.”
He nodded “Ay, Ay, Captain.” And off he went, strutting and whistling a lovely tune.
I waved goodbye and continued on my journey.
Finally. The golden sunshine hit me as I raced over to the front door, adding slow-motion effects for fun.
This young women opened it for me. She had nervous teeth, brown hair and sparkling, glimmering eyes. But she reminded me of someone.
Weird, I thought.
She leaped into bed like a young boy, covering her body in covers. “Yes?” She barked snappishly.
I was taken aback. “Why…what sweet eyes you have.”
She grunted.
“Why, what dark hair you have.”
She snorted in delight.
“What sharp teeth you have.”
The women jumped out, throwing of a costume and showed him to be the nice boy I had seen moments before.
He lowered his glare to me. “You are a captive of Myth!”
Everything went dark.

Daily <33
Father smiled down at me, his eyes filled with tears as he presented me something. A rough newspaper clip, cut out from a full issue was pressed into my hand, and he whispered “I'm warning you now.”
I remember clearly shaking my head at him, as if saying “I don't care” before reading the headlines with great speed, as if attempting to prove him wrong. But every word hit me, every word shook.
I might put in here that Mother had been missing for weeks, Father seemed out of place but kept saying that she was on a “old trip of hers, the ‘lass.” ad I believed him. Mother always went on long, tiring trips without telling us, but something had been off.
I just had been too innocent to guess it.
But back to the news clip.
The words…they were overwhelming. What they were saying was horrible.
Mother was dead.
I stumbled back, my mind clouding, and Father held me steady. “This is why I told you.” He mumbled sadly “It was going to be tough, but you needed to know.”
I knew that was true, but I was still mad at the fact she was dead.
But was I mad?
I wasn’t anything, just numb. The shock of losing my Mother, it didn't make me upset or sad or depressed- it made me nothing.
Nothing.
Literally nothing.
Father held me close, hugging me and shedding a few tears. “We have each other.” He whispered as I curled in.
a few years later
We had survived.
Father had adopted all the kids abandoned, and although we were struggling as a family, we had each other.
Father was still an only dad- trying to keep care of all of us.
I helped a lot, he couldn't have done it without me- I bet that.
I was the oldest, so I had to do the dishes and cook sometimes- and look after everyone. It was super hard for Father, since Ovvie had to take pumps regularily to help her..condition.
But we were fine now.
Happy as we could be, like a bee when they spot a big flower. Like a tired owl when they spot a cosy branch. And so on and on, I'm just trying to say that we were happy.
So happy.
I still miss Mother, the crazy lovely women, but I have others.
And that is all I need.

Daily <33
Aaron had always wondered why others felt it so easy to conform to the rules that seemed strict to him, adhere to deadlines or schedules that grated on him, or endlessly stuff their brains with knowledge that never quite stuck in his.
It was in his first cycle of mandatory military training that he got his answer, in a voice speaking into his mind.
Magic.
Though he’d always known magic existed, the government controlled it so strictly he never really thought he’d encounter it, except in the mages who wore the black cross and sat in an otherwise empty row on the public train. Aaron wasn’t afraid of it, exactly. It was a part of life, it seemed both natural and strange, and above all, distant. Wholly unconnected with him. As a child, sure, he’d thought it might be cool to have telekinesis. Certainly useful! Perhaps, once or twice, he’d convinced himself that the reason he was so strange was because he was secretly a mage. But a quick test to see if his paint palette would lift of its own accord seemingly disproved that theory.
When the voice told him to Run, he didn’t quite know what to do. That was nothing, though, by comparison with his shock when the image of a girl which had been branded in his mind turned out to be the same girl he’d been painting for the past week.
Aaron’s fairly normal world turned upside down.
Magic.
Critique
This piece is amazing! I love the theme, just the overall language and uniqueness quirkiness I see when re-reading this work!
The only thing I believe needs more of is information. This is more of an opinion- but I really just want to know more; about mages, the government; and most importantly- Aaron himself. Questions are flooding into my brain as I speak: “what is the girls name?” and “why does the government control magic strictly?”
This is supposed to be short, I know, but I really want to figure everything out.
“It was in his first cycle of mandatory military training that he got his answer, in a voice speaking into his mind.” seems a bit weird in my mind, I think perhaps changing it to “In his first cycle of the mandatory military training, a voice spoke in his mind: telling him the answer he had wished for for so long” would make more sense?
I don't really know-
My last bit of advice: perhaps ask yourself “why a paint palette?” or something like that. I've read the story a few times, but it hasn't said or connected Aaron to being an artist- or liking painting in the least.
Also, a bit more detail when talking about the mages. This is just me, but I want to know a bit more about them- especially since they seem to be “magic” and related to the plot.
Otherwise, this is an amazing piece! I hope you go on creating other wonderful writing pieces like this one.