Welcome to my writing thread for the July 2022 session of SWC! Below is a table of contents to easily access each daily, weekly or whatever other writing piece I post. Enjoy some horrible okay writing <3


Contents

• Daily for July 4th
  
• Weekly #1
  
• Daily for July 10th
  
• Daily for July 13th (in a project)
  
• Writing Comp Entry
  
• Daily for July 17th
  
• Daily for July 18th
  
• Daily for July 19th
  
• Daily for July 20th
  
• Weekly #3 (unfinished)
  
• Daily for July 24th
  
• Daily for July 25th
  
• Weekly #4 - SusWC hehe
  
• Thank you notes (forum version)
  

Oh hey does anyone read the fine print? If you do, I have a challenge for you! Can you find all the Queen references in my dailies/weeklies? ;) (okay I know I've only done one so far but once I post more, you can start finding them!) Oh and I know, my first daily includes a whole scene with the members of Queen xD edit: heh well one or two don't have Queen references, others are subtle, and others are quite obvious! :P

Daily for July 4th

(edit: this will probably be the daily with the most Queen in it B))
(edit #2: the vague dialogue is my take on the time when Roger hid himself in a closet until the rest of Queen agreed to put his song on the ‘A Night At The Opera’ album. Hehehe.)
(edit #3 on July 10th: I forgot when I wrote this that Roger actually hid himself in a /cupboard/, not a closet. Oops. Anddd, ‘You’re My Best Friend' was actually written by John Deacon, not Brian May. (I /swear/ that on Spotify, it said that Brian wrote it- but now it says that John wrote it-))

Ambiguous:
“Stingray? Help me with this,” Violet said, sitting in front of their bookshelf, in the process of reorganizing it.
I looked up from the book I’m reading, and asked, “What?”
“I said, help me with this,” they replied, perhaps a little annoyed.
“What’s ‘this’?” I pick up a book and glance at the cover, smiling at the fact that it’s an E.K. Johnston novel.
“That’s a Queen book. I’m organizing all Star Wars books, not just Queen ones.”
“This isn’t a Queen book, you’ve already gone through those! This is about Padmé Amidala!”
“What do you mean? It’s still a Queen book!”
“What? Padmé doesn’t have anything to do with Queen!”
“But she’s a queen herself!”
“No, I meant Queen! Like Roger, you know, Roger and—”
“She’s not a Separatist, she doesn’t have droids that go ‘Roger, roger!’ Have you gone mad?”
“What about you, are you going slightly mad?”
“Only slightly?!?! I’m already insane! In, like, the good way.”
“You don’t get my Queen reference, do you?”
“What has that to do with Padmé?!!”
“Not Padmé, I mean the rock band Queen!!!”
“Rock doesn’t exist in Star Wars! Only in my fanfic it does!”
“Of course it doesn’t!”
“Are you denying what’s in my fanfic?”
“I’m not!”
“Not what?”
“Not denying that!”
“What’s ‘that’?”
“I said, I’m not denying that!”
“But what is ‘that’?”
“A word in the English language, of course!”
“I meant, what do you mean by ‘that’?”
“I meant what you were talking about!”
“What I’m talking about? I’m talking about asking you what you meant!”
(261 words)

Vague:
“Roger, what are you doing?!” Brian said loudly into a closet door.
“Sitting. Or maybe crouching,” came the reply from inside the closet.
“But why in a closet?”
“Because, well, you know!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Get out, and tell me—us.” Brian added the last bit upon seeing a slightly hard stare from Freddie.
“I’m not coming out.”
“What? Oh. Ohhh. Don’t worry, we’re your best friends, we support you.” Brian had the sudden idea to start singing his song, ‘You’re My Best Friend’. “I really love you…oh, you’re my best frien—”
“No! No. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what in the world are you talking about?!?!!”
“You don’t like it, do you?”
“Like what?”
“You know, the thing you said was a joke!” Here, Brian heard…a couple sniffles??
“Roger, I’m truly sorry. Happy now?”
“No.”
“What? So you want more than an apology?”
“Let me do what I want, and I’ll get out.”
“Well, what do you want? You can’t just say something like, ‘I’m going on vacation for two years, see you then!’, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I want! Not at all.”
“Well then, what do you want, Roger?”
“Rog, seriously, tell us and get out,” added Freddie.
“But you won’t let me have my way, even if I tell you!” A few more sniffles came from the closet. Or maybe that was Roger.
“What, are you talking about having your song on the album? We already said no!” Brian was seriously tired from the fact that Roger was in a closet and complaining about wanting his song on the album.
“Let’s just let him have his way. It’s only fair,” said Deacy, quietly.
“Yeah, Deacy’s right,” agreed Freddie.
Brian sighed. “Fine. Alright, Roger, get out now. We agree to let you have your song, ‘I’m In Love With My Car’, on the album.”
Suddenly, the closet door burst open, and Roger came bouncing out, extremely happy that the guy who thought his song was a joke agreed to let him have his song on the album.
(350 words)

Weekly #1

Part #1

Character reference sheet:

Hermione Granger - character reference sheet (books 1-7)
Series continuing or ended: ended

Pronouns: she/her
Gender: cis female
Orientations: straight
Species: human

Strengths: clever, hard-working, remembers practically everything she reads, always helps her friends, responsible

Weaknesses: being very logical, she doesn’t look to the intuitive side of things; quite blunt with her opinions, sometimes to the point that she’s tactless

General view on life (free, not hateful, hateful): free

Tendencies:

Tends to panic mildly in sudden situations
Improving or staying the same: improved fairly quickly (overcame around book 3)
Tends to act bossy when pleasing professors or helping other students
Improving or staying the same: improved slowly (overcame around books 4-5, I think)

Situations:

Someone threatens one of her friends :
Emotions: anger, protectiveness
Awareness of others: some, about the person threatening
Next step: stands up to protect her friend, putting herself in harm’s way, most of the time risking her own life, sometimes pulling out her wand
Outcome: backs away if she learns that the person threatening is doing so as a last resort for another reason, wizard duel or sometimes physical violence resulting in either or both she and the other person getting hurt

Someone calling her a mean thing :
Emotions: sadness, vengeance (sometimes)
Awareness of others: little to none, or a fair amount (of the other person) if she wants vengeance
Next step: ignoring the other person, sometimes a little physical violence, or casting a spell/jinx/hex
Outcome: nothing (if she ignored the other person), or the other person physically hurt, and sometimes herself in return


Scenario writing:

(your character is running late but they can’t find matching socks/shoes)

Hermione awoke early one summer morning, before her third year at Hogwarts, excited to be going with Ron’s family to Diagon Alley and then spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow before going to Hogwarts. She got out of bed, then went straight to finish packing her school trunk. Breakfast could wait; she wasn’t very hungry anyway. She finished adding some last few books, then went through her mental list of everything she needed to bring. Assured that it was complete, she dressed, but couldn’t find a sock that wasn’t in the wash nor had a hole in it. She thought that she could just wear a pair that she used as part of her school uniform, but then realized that they were at the bottom of her trunk. She couldn’t perform magic outside of school, and she didn’t want to waste time digging through her trunk, then repacking it, so she decided to try and find the missing sock. She looked everywhere—under her bed, in her closet, below her desk, in cracks between the wall and furniture—but to no luck, she couldn’t find it anywhere. Usually, she never lost things, as she was very much organized, but she determinedly kept on searching for it. She didn’t want to wear her shoes sockless, as she found that to be very uncomfortable.
Somebody knocked on the door. “Hermione?” asked a voice outside her door—her mom. “Have you finished packing?”
“Yes…” Hermione replied, reluctant to mention her missing sock search.
“Then you should eat quickly—Ron’s family will pick you up soon.”
“I’ll be out soon!” Hermione hoped she would be, at least. Where is that sock?? Hermione thought furiously. They were going to be headed straight to the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley right away, so it wouldn’t be that important, would it? Once she got there and bought all the books she needed, she’d be reorganizing her trunk a little, so maybe then she could get a pair of socks out? But she didn’t want to spend however long it took to get all her things at Diagon Alley without a sock. It would irritate her foot very much.
“Hermione! They’re here! What are you doing?” Her mom opened the door, and Hermione froze, looking through her closet. “Are you looking for something? I thought you said that you were already finished packing.”
“I— I can’t find a sock!!” Hermione said, panicking a little, mostly because she was going to make them late. “And you know that I don’t like it when I wear shoes without a sock!” She continued her search, but then her mom came and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Hermione.” Hermione’s mom reassured her daughter. “You can borrow one of mine, if you’d like…?”
“But it’ll be too big!”
“It’ll be okay until you change into your school uniform, yes?”
“I think so…”
“Why don’t you take your trunk and give it to the Weasleys, and I’ll get you the sock?”
Hermione nodded, so her mom left her room. She grabbed her trunk and did her best to heave it down the hallway. She heard some Queen music playing softly in the background, so she knew that her dad was reading the paper in the kitchen.
When she got to the front hall, Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, “Oh, Hermione! It’s great to see you!”
She smiled, and said, “Great to see you too, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Hermione!” said Ron. “Here, give me your trunk, I’ll give it to Fred and George so they can put it in the car.” Hermione gave Ron her trunk, while he asked, “What took you so long?”
Hermione turned red, and said, “It’s nothing.”
“Well, put your shoes on and get in the car! You’ll be in the back with Ron, Fred and George. It’ll be a tight fit, but I’m sure you’ll manage,” Mrs. Weasley added in that seemingly always cheerful mood of hers.
Hermione looked down the hallway to her mom who tossed her a sock. She grabbed it, put it on quickly, while most of the Weasleys got into the car, and put on her shoes. She turned to face her parents one last time and said, “I’ll see you at Christmas, then? I can send an owl, if you like, so you can write to me.”
“We’ll see you at Christmas, of course,” her dad smiled, the newspaper resting on the table.
“And sure, you can send an owl,” added her mom. “Bye, Hermione. Stay out of trouble!”
Hermione smiled and said, “Bye, mom, bye dad,” then headed out the door and into the car. She waved to them from the car, as they waved from the doorway before they closed the door. (792 words)


Part #2

Ahsoka Tano character voice:
Ahsoka is a confident, determined former Jedi Padawan. Her vocabulary when communicating is mostly limited to what’s necessary to say, but is carefully crafted. She is honest with what she says, even when the truth hurts. She hides her hurt emotions when she is talking about memories or events that still pains her. She often comes up with witty retorts, and sometimes rude ones if the moment calls for it. Her tone is often relaxed; as a former Jedi, she is trained to stay calm even in the highest peaks of battle. Though, she sometimes raises her voice when someone insults her and/or her friends/allies. She keeps most of her emotions contained, since in battle, her enemy/ies could point out her weakness(es) if she outwardly displayed her emotions. (117 words)

Darth Maul character voice:
Maul is full of anger, hate and vengeance, as a former Sith Lord. His vocabulary is also mostly limited to what he needs to say. His tone is full of hate and anger, often using it as a weapon. He is cunning and deceptive, which helps him wield his sword of hate and anger. He usually mocks the person he is speaking with, to toy with their emotions, though if the other person has excellent retorts, his already strong anger can also build up even more. He doesn’t hide his emotions; as a Sith, he’s angry all the time, and it’s quite noticeable, even to non-Jedi (or non-former Jedi). In his communication, he can perfectly and easily feign weakness to get his way. (123 words)

(passages based off the first section of the novel ‘Ahsoka’ by E.K. Johnston)

Passage from Ahsoka’s POV:
Maul stood waiting, pacing in a not-yet-burning plaza. I knew he was ready and waiting for me. I walked towards him, lightsabers in my hands, confident and determined with every step.
“Where’s your army, Lady Tano?” he asked, once I was close enough to hear.
“Busy defeating yours.” Well, I hoped that was true. I trusted the 501st, so I was almost certain they could defeat Maul’s Mandalorians—with the help of Bo-Katan Kryze and her friends, of course. The way he said “Lady Tano” made me feel the pain from leaving the Order. I wasn’t a commander anymore. The 501st still treated me like one, because they still had high respect for me. I kept in my emotions, not wanting Maul to play with them.
“It was so nice of your former masters to send you out alone and spare me the exertion of a proper fight,” said Maul. I knew what was coming next. “You’re not even a real Jedi.”
The way he said that, the way his teeth were bared, showed his deep hate and anger. They were strong, strong emotions. I like that he was angry, though—it was to my advantage, to get his mind clouded with his anger, and to make him think that he had a greater advantage. I came up with a witty retort that I was sure would make his anger grow.
“It’ll be a fair fight, then. You’re only half a Sith,” I replied, looking him up and down. It was rude, yes, but necessary. Taunting your enemy works quite well, actually. I needed to buy enough time, so I used all the ideas I had. Still, I can’t deny the fact that he’s right. I am no Jedi.
Maul walked sideways like a feline with some sort of grace, his lightsaber hilt twirling in his right hand. My hands gripped my lightsabers tighter, ready to spring into action, though I knew that Maul wasn’t going to attack me quite yet. I relaxed, waiting for him to come closer, almost like meditating. I opened my mind and reached out to the Force, finding it waiting for me. Then I copied Maul across the plaza, stepping back as he stepped towards me, moving in the opposite way as he did.
“No Jedi, but still a coward. Or did Skywalker forget to teach you how to stand your ground before he threw you aside?” Maul thought he knew the truth, but he didn’t. I was there to let him know that Anakin didn’t throw me aside.
“I left under my own power.” The truth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. I didn’t dwell on the pain, instead refocusing on Maul, the task at hand.
“Of course. And I volunteered for that garbage pile, and those first monstrous legs.” He was mocking me, and I didn’t want him to get away with it. He mocked me to cover up his anger, though I could still tell that his own rage was growing, almost about to attack.
He turned on his lightsaber, and moved faster. I pretended that he surprised me, stumbling backwards a little.
“I’ll bet you volunteered for this, too, Lady Tano.” He only saw my weakness, everything else covered up with his anger. “One last attempt at glory to impress a master who has no further use for you.”
That triggered me. “That’s not true!” I shouted, but even if it made me a little mad at him, I was still focused on getting him in place. Only a little bit further.
Maul lunged forwards, evil laughter noises coming out of his throat. I waited, until he was almost in my reach. Then I sprung the trap. I activated my lightsabers, and was ready to block his strike. He bore forwards, and I quickly stepped back. He thrust his lightsaber down, and I parried the attack, locking my lightsabers in place, so he couldn’t move.
“Now!” I yelled, commanding my hidden allies. I stepped away, just in time, as the ray shield came to life. Maul was trapped inside, his lightsaber still in the middle of swinging down at me. (686 words)

Passage from Maul’s POV:
I waited. I paced. I knew she was coming. My cloak was already tossed aside, and I was ready, lightsaber in hand.
“Where’s your army, Lady Tano?” I said, once I thought she was within earshot.
“Busy defeating yours,” she replied.
“It was so nice of your former masters to send you out alone and spare me the exertion of a proper fight,” I said, with the perfect put-down in mind. “You’re not even a real Jedi.”
“It’ll be a fair fight, then. You’re only half a Sith,” she retorted, looking at me from head to foot and back up. That made me angry, the way she took in my body and put it with my being a Sith. Well, I don’t like being called a Stih, because I hate Darth Sidious, and I’m not exactly a Sith anyway.
I walked sideways gracefully, twirling my lightsaber. I saw Tano’s hands grip onto her lightsaber harder. She mirrored me, going in the opposite direction as me. What a coward.
“No Jedi, but still a coward. Or did Skywalker forget to teach you how to stand your ground before he threw you aside?” I taunted her with her old master.
“I left under my own power,” she said, with complete confidence.
“Of course. And I volunteered for that garbage pile, and those first monstrous legs,” I shot back at her, even with the rage growing inside of me. The red glow of my lightsaber burst out as I activated it, and Tano stumbled backwards in surprise.
“I’ll bet you volunteered for this, too, Lady Tano,” I crooned. “One last attempt at glory to impress a master who has no further use for you.” I was sure that that would get her.
“That’s not true!” she shouted, and I felt her anger.
Lunging forwards, I laughed cruelly. I kept going forwards, and she stepped back. I thrust my lightsaber towards her head, and she blocked it. She had her lightsabers locked in place, making it so I couldn’t move.
“Now!” she yelled.
I didn’t realize what had happened; all I knew was that she stepped back as I continued to thrust my lightsaber at her, and suddenly, a ray shield trapped me. (369 words)


Part #3

The three tropes that I picked: songfic, modern AU, and high school AU (also contains an OC)
Fandom: The Owl House
Song: “I Want To Break Free” by Queen

Fanfic:
“Amity! Hey!” Luz exclaimed, waving at her girlfriend crossing the front lawn of Hexside High School. It was their second day of grade 10, and they were going to make the most of this year.
“Hi, Luz,” Amity said, smiling and waving back. “Willow’s still sick?”
“I think…I hope she shows up today, though!”
Together, they walked up the steps of the school, and hurried inside. They didn’t have much time to get to their first class.
Luz checked her class schedule that was on the front of her binder. “I have P.E. now. Where are you headed?”
“Math.” Amity rolled her eyes—she hated math. “Boscha’s in your P.E. class, right?”
“Yeah, I think she is. She wasn’t here yesterday though.”
“Be careful of her. She’s…well, pretty mean.”
“Okay, I’ll steer clear of her!” Luz grinned and turned to the girls’ change rooms. “Bye Amity! See you at break!”
“See you.”

——

During P.E., after the teacher explained how to properly hit a volleyball, she paired the students off to practice hitting volleyballs back and forth. Unfortunately, Luz couldn’t stay clear of Boscha, since she was Luz’s partner. Boscha could hit a volleyball hard and well, giving Luz quite a few bruises. She was the captain of the girls’ grade 9 volleyball team last year, and given that fact, she’d probably still be captain this year, but of the grade 10 team.
“Ow! Oof! I’m okay! Ouch! I’ll be fine!” was pretty much all Luz was saying.
“Seriously, Luz, you need to get better at returning volleyballs,” said Boscha.
“I can hit them fine—ow!—it’s just your serves—passes—whatever you call them—are coming too fast! Owww!!” Luz rubbed her head. She was sure that there was a bruise there now. Thinking about it, she looked down at her arms to see many purple spots. She shook her arms, a hundred percent sure that she’d be fine by the end of P.E. It’s not like she’d turn into a purple pancake or anything.
“No, you just can’t hit them fast enough!” Boscha kept hitting the volleyball back at Luz.
Soon enough, the class stopped practicing and turned to watch Luz being pelted by Boscha’s hits. The P.E. teacher took notice and came over.
“Hey—Boscha, what are you doing? You’re playing way too hard on Luz,” the teacher said.
“Sorry,” Boscha said. “I won’t hit them as hard anymore.”
“Good. Luz, are you alright?” asked the teacher.
“Yup! I’m all good!” Luz grinned and put both her hands in a finger gun motion. Everybody looked at her purple bruises.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I am!”
The teacher turned to the rest of the students and instructed them to get back to practicing.
After the teacher left, Boscha said, as she served the volleyball, “Why are you acting so gay?”
Luz was startled and confused. She knew that whatever Boscha was talking about, it wasn’t nice. “Ow!—what do you mean?”
“Finger guns are a bi thing. Which, like, doesn’t exist. Like, how do you like boys and girls at the same time?!”
Luz got really mad at Boscha, but was in no position to even try and protest, being already really bruised. “Ouch!” was all she said. That’s not even what bi means! she thought angrily.
“And like, how do you like someone of your own gender? It doesn’t work. Girls are made to like boys, and boys are made to like girls.”
Luz’s rage was growing. But all she could do was suffer from each bruise and say “Ow!” She was tired and physically was in no mood to talk.
“And what’s this transgender trend thing? Like, you can’t change your gender! You’re born a boy or girl, and you can’t change that! They’re just making stuff up, like I could just say, ‘My gender is an attack helicop—’ ”
“SHUT UP BOSCHA!” yelled a voice that Luz recognized. Luz turned to see Willow standing behind her, all red and angry in the face.
“Willow! I’m glad you’re back and feel better!” Luz managed to say and waved a purple hand.
Willow turned to Luz and said, “Hey,” with a small smile before turning back to Boscha and saying, “You don’t know anything, Boscha, so shut your mouth.”
“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?” asked Boscha.
“Excuse me, but I also go to this school and I’m in this class.”
“Well, what do you know that I don’t?”
“I know that being gay or bi or trans or anything else is okay. My dads told me all that, and it’s true.”
“What—since when did you have gay parents?!?!”
“Since before I was born, obviously. C’mon, Luz, let’s go get some water then start practicing on our own.”
Willow stormed off, and Luz quickly followed.

——

At the first break, Luz wanted some alone time with Amity, so Willow and Gus went off to do their own thing while Luz sat with Amity on a bench that overlooked the field.
“So, what happened in P.E.—with Boscha, I’m guessing—that made you get a million bruises?” asked Amity.
Luz was slow in answering. “Well, we were playing volleyball, and so that’s how I got all these bruises. She kept on hitting the ball at me really hard.”
“…And? What else?”
“She asked me why I was acting ‘so gay’ after I just did finger guns at the teacher. The teacher had asked me if I was okay, so I said, ‘Yup, I’m okay’ and I did finger guns. Then she went on saying a bunch of, well, homophobic things. And transphobic things. Basically LGBTQ+phobic things in general.”
Amity was shocked hearing this news. “Wow… And I was the one who was friends with her before. I’m so sorry, it must’ve been really hurtful to hear that.”
Luz nodded, and said, “I didn’t say anything, and I feel bad about that, but it was because the bruises started hurting badly and if I said anything, she’d hit the ball even harder.” Tears formed in the corners of Luz’s eyes.
“Oh, Luz.” Amity comforted Luz by putting an arm over her shoulder. “So then, how did Willow get tied up into this?”
“She saved me. She told Boscha to shut up, and that she didn’t know anything.”
Amity smiled. “Willow sure has changed.”
Luz sat in silence for a moment, then told Amity one last thing. “Since then, sometimes there’s this voice inside of me that tells me bad things. I know they’re not true, but the voice got overwhelming just before P.E. ended. I’m afraid that it could get worse.”
Amity didn’t say anything for a bit. She seemed to be trying to figure out what to say. At last, she said, “That happens to me too. But the voice sounds like my mom, so it makes me afraid to come out to her, ever.”
I want to break free from your lies
Suddenly, Luz had a lightbulb moment. “What if we made a Pride club here at our school? So we can meet other people like us, and make it so that others can have a safe place.”
“That sounds like a good idea…” Amity said. “But I’m afraid that Boscha or somebody might tell my mom, and I really don’t want that happening.”
“Maybe if your mom gets suspicious, you could just lie and say that you’re not part of the community, you’re just part of the club because you support it and that your friends are part of the club?”
“You mean, that you’re part of the club?” Amity smiled, blushing a little.
Luz blushed in reply. “Kind of, yeah.”
“Luz, Amity!” Willow and Gus called as they walked towards them.
“How’s your ‘date’ going?” Gus joked, doing air quotations.
“Gus!!” Luz said, blushing even more. Amity’s face turned into a tomato.
“I’m just joking!” Gus said.
“Well, we decided to find you guys to see how you’re doing,” explained Willow.
“That’s good, because I need your opinions!” said Luz.
“What for?” asked Gus.
“I have the idea to make a Pride club—here, at our school! It would be a place for queer kids to hang out, have fun, and have a safe place. Amity said that it’s a good idea but she’s afraid that her mom would find out.” Luz’s mood had definitely changed.
“Ooh, that sounds awesome!” said Willow. “My dads would love it if you did that!”
“Yeah, I agree with Willow,” added Gus. “It’s a cool idea!”
“I want you to do it, Luz…but I’m just really worried that my mom would find out and that she’d get mad at me or something…maybe send me to a different school—or make me friends with Boscha again—or—” Amity was panicking by this point.
“Amity, don’t worry,” said Luz. “We could make it work. We’ll try and cover up anything that would lead your mom to suspicion, or Boscha finding out, or something like that.”
Amity smiled, reassured.
“At lunch, I’m going to go ask the nicest teacher, Ms. Alderton, about forming this epic club. You guys can come with me, if you like,” Luz added.

——

When I walk out that door / Oh, how I want to be free, baby
“Hi… Ms. Alderton?” Luz asked the teacher, who was going through some papers.
“Hm? Oh, hello, Luz. What’s up?” she asked.
“So…I was thinking about forming a Pride club and I wanted to know how exactly I could do this. Like, do I need to speak with Principal Bump or something?” asked Luz.
“Oh! That’s great, thinking about that kind of club. I was actually thinking about doing something about it this year. Last year was pretty busy, so it slipped off my mind. If you want, you can host your club here, in my room, on…hmm, Tuesdays would work, at lunch? I can ask Principal Bump for permission, but other than that, I’m okay with it.”
Luz turned to her friends. “Tuesdays at lunch—do you guys have anything then?”
They all shook their heads.
Luz turned back to Ms. Alderton and said, “Tuesdays at lunch would work, actually. Thank you!”

——

“Hey—Amity?” Luz met up with Amity in the hallways after school finished.
“Yeah, Luz?”
“Do you want to come to my house after school today? I think I want to come out to my mom. Not by, like, using you as my way of saying ‘I’m bi’, but I also want to tell her that we’re dating, if that’s okay with you.”
“Oh!” Amity blushed. “Um…sure! That’s okay with me. I’ll just have to text mom to let her know that I’m going to your house to do ‘homework.’ ”
“We don’t even have any homework though!”
“Would you rather me say ‘I’m going to hang out at my girlfriend’s house’?”
“Oh. No. Right, then just say homework.”

——

I’ve got to be free
“Mama?” Luz called, when she stepped inside her house.
Luz’s mom appeared out of the kitchen. “Luz? You’re home already?”
“Yeah, and Amity’s here, she’s staying until 5, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, yes, you’re quite welcome here, Amity!” She smiled at Amity, in a way that Amity wished to have come from her own mom.
Luz’s mom went back to the kitchen, and so Luz and Amity followed to leave their backpacks there. Then, Luz looked at Amity to say, “I’m doing it now”. Amity nodded in reply.
“..Mama?” she said, to get her mom’s attention. Amity’s heart was beating fast—she was there for Luz, and as her girlfriend, she didn’t want Luz to feel alone when doing this, so she gave Luz a reassuring smile.
“What is it, Luz?” Her mom turned to look at her.
“I… I’m bi. Like, if you know, bisexual.”
The expression on her mom’s face turned soft, gentle and kind, as she stepped towards Luz to pull her into a hug. “I love you, Luz, for who you are. I’m glad you found the courage to tell me.” Amity honestly got a little bit jealous of Luz for having a mom like that. Her mom was harsh, cruel, and not a good mother in general.
After they pulled away, Luz said, “I have something else to tell you…” She slipped her hand into Amity’s and looked into Amity’s eyes as she squeezed her hand. Luz turned back to her mom and said, “Amity’s my girlfriend.”
Luz’s mom looked at Luz, then Amity, then back at Luz, her smile growing bigger and bigger. “Oh, you two are just made for each other. I know it. I love you both.”

——

Many months later, Luz’s Pride club is still growing, every week. Eventually, it becomes very public to the school, but because of the amount of teachers—and Principal Bump—who are involved in some way or another with the club, Boscha (or anyone else, really) is too afraid to out Amity to her mom, or say anything LGBTQ+phobic in class, or at school, even.
(2155 words)


Part #4

SWC fanfic:
My alarm goes off at 6 AM. You’re probably wondering why I’m getting up so early in the summer. It’s SWC, that’s why! Or should I say, SMC, or Soggy Mango Chaos. (There’s a complicated backstory to that.) Stan Writing Camp, or SWC, is a writing camp that runs three times a year—tri-annually, in a formal way—in March, July, and November. It’s the best writing camp ever! You attend cabin meetings once a week, to meet up with your cabin leaders and fellow campers, do cabin-related activities, and so much more! You are sent emails every day with each daily, and weeklies are sent once a week.
Today is the first day of July SWC. I’m up early because I want to complete today’s daily before heading to camp. A couple days ago, I received an email saying that I’d been sorted into Fantasy Cabin—which was taking on the theme of witches this year. I’m excited to meet my leaders and fellow campers! This is the first session that I’m not in a cabin led by somebody I know, so I am a little nervous. I get dressed, and turn on my computer to read the daily and start writing.
Soon enough, it’s 7 AM and my mom is calling me downstairs to eat breakfast quickly before dropping me off at camp. Camp starts at 8:30, but we live far away from where the camp is located, so I have to eat earlier. I’m already wide awake, so it’s no big deal. I head downstairs, quickly drink a glass of milk and eat a piece of buttered toast. I’m ready for the day.

——

Once my mom drops me off, I go to the front of the main cabin to sign in. I haven’t been in the main cabin much, most for signing in, but I’ve seen that it’s much like any cabin—just much bigger. I’m handed a map of the camp, so I know how to get around, and go off to find Fantasy Cabin. I walk down a trail and what looks like an arcade. I know that’s Horror Cabin, since a friend of mine is the leader. I wave to her, and she waves back, too busy with a few campers to talk to me. Eventually, I find Fantasy. One of the co-leaders welcomes me, and hands me some papers. I meet some other campers while we wait for the rest of the campers to get here. We’re talking and laughing, and I know that I’m going to have a great time with Fantasy this summer. (431 words)

(ahhhh I finally got it done in time!!)

Daily for July 10th

(I was so creative with the names, wasn't I? B))

Words that I guessed: trans, later, rebut

A trans teenage boy named Taylor Rogers has known that he’s trans for about a year, and he’s fully out at school. But, his parents are fairly homophobic, so he’s really scared to come out to them. He’s sure that they’d rebut him. His parents think that he’s just a “girl” who’s a tomboy, but it’s not true. He knows, deep down, that he’s really a boy, and then there’s gender dysphoria. Thankful that he’s got a small chest, binding has never been much of a problem for him. But everything changed for him, one day in grade eight, when he met Deacon Johnson. He didn’t know then, but later on, he and Deacon would have a special relationship.
It was January, about halfway into the school year, and Taylor was going to the weekly Pride club meeting. Being in grade eight, he was sort of one of the leaders of the club, though technically it was a teacher who ran and was in charge of the club. He saw someone sitting at a table away from everyone else—someone who looked like a new kid. He decided to go over and talk with them.
“Hey, I’m Taylor! I use he/him pronouns,” he said, sitting down beside them. “What’s your name and pronouns?”
The kid shyly said, “I’m Deacon. He or they.”
“That’s a cool name. I’ve never met someone named Deacon before.”
Deacon shrugged. “It’s my given name. I mean, I like it, and I’m fine being called it, but it’s kinda boring.”
“What if people called you ‘Deacy’ instead? Like John Deacon’s nickname.”
“Yeah, maybe, I’ll think about it. And who’s that? I feel like I’ve heard the name before…”
“John Deacon’s the bass player of Queen, which is my favourite band! You know about Queen, hopefully?” Taylor absolutely loved Queen—hence the reason he picked the name “Taylor”, the last name of Queen’s drummer, Roger Taylor. His last name was already “Rogers”, so to go by “Roger Rogers” could be confusing.
Deacon’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh, Queen. Of course I know Queen. My sister’s obsessed with them! I’m sure that she’s crushing on all the members. I mean, she has posters of all of them with hearts drawn on them.”
Taylor laughed. “That’s cool. Funny, we both have names that are the last names of two Queen members.”
“Right, your name is Roger’s last name.” Deacon chuckled, blushing a little.
“Do you like Roger?” Taylor asked with a playful smirk.
Deacon blushed even more. “Oh—no, I like…um, Rogerina, you know, the girl Roger plays in the ‘I Want To Break Free’ music video—but I mean, Roger’s kinda cute…”
“Oh, yeah me too. Who doesn’t like her? She’s the prettiest girl that ever existed! Oh, and I’m pan, by the way. And trans,” Taylor added.
“Cool, I’m bi. At least, I think.”
“Taylor!” called a voice.
“Oh, we’re starting now,” said Taylor. “C’mon, you can sit beside me.”
From that moment on, Taylor and “Deacy” were the best of friends, until they grew closer, and their platonic love turned romantic.
(512 words)

Writing Competition entry


The Early Days of Queen

Queen is one of the most successful and well-known rock bands to this day. Over their more than 20-year career, they released 14 albums, and all the members penned at least one major hit. But how did the incredible legend all start? The origins of Queen date back to 1968, with a band called Smile.
Smile was formed by drummer Roger Taylor and guitarist Brian May. With them in their lineup was Tim Staffell, the lead singer and bass guitarist. They played gigs on the weekend, but never recorded an album. One day, around 1970, Freddie Mercury met them and started to tag around with them. Not a member of the band yet, Freddie helped them with their gigs. Tim Staffell received an offer to be part of a different band, which he accepted, and left Smile to Roger and Brian. Freddie joined them as the lead singer, and they changed their name to Queen.
Queen went searching for a bass guitarist. It was pretty hard for them to find one that fit in with the rest of the band. After going through six different players, they landed on John Deacon, in early 1971. He auditioned for his spot in the band, and soon after, on March 1st, he became the fourth and final member of Queen.
Queen’s first two albums are titled Queen (released on July 13, 1973) and Queen II (released on March 8, 1974). The two albums are pretty similar, though they are still unique. In my opinion, they are both underrated Queen albums. On Queen, five of the songs are written by Freddie, four by Brian, including “Doing Alright”, which was co-written with Tim Staffel before Queen came along, and lastly, “Modern Times Rock ’N Roll” was written by Roger. John’s first song would come with their third album. “Seven Seas Of Rhye” is their most well-known song from these early albums. It peaked at number ten in the UK, making it their first hit. Most of the songs on Queen II are from Queen, but redone, and then there are of course some new songs. Just over half of the songs on Queen II are written by Freddie, four by Brian and “The Loser In The End” was written by Roger.
In 1974, came Sheer Heart Attack, which brought their hit “Killer Queen” out into the world. “Killer Queen” was their first US hit, peaking at number twelve on the Billboard Hot 100, and number two on the UK Singles Chart. On this album was also the first song written by John, “Misfire”, and the first Queen song, “Stone Cold Crazy”, with the writing credit given to all four members. Out of the rest of the tracks, six of them were written by Freddie, four by Brian, and one, ”Tenement Funster”, by Roger.
After that came A Night At The Opera. It is one of their most famous albums, with the groundbreaking five minute and fifty-five second A-side single “Bohemian Rhapsody”. (An A-side single is the main song on the top side of a 7-inch vinyl record that is released ahead of the album, and the B-side is the other side of it.) In those days, recordings were done on big tapes, and the whiter the tape was, the more multi-tracking or overdubs it had. Multi-tracking is basically different recordings put together to have many layers of sound. The “Bohemian Rhapsody” tape was so white that it was almost clear from all the multi-tracking. It’s said to have around 180 overdubs, but some say that that’s just an exaggeration. Originally, the Galileo part in the operatic section was going to be Freddie doing both the high part (the falsetto) and the low part, but it was later changed so that Roger would do the falsetto—with good reason, of course, because Roger has an amazing falsetto. Because of all the harmonies and vocal parts it had, the band thought it would be too hard to make a regular promotional video of them performing it. They instead went down a different route to make what is considered to be the first music video in the history of music. When it came to deciding which song from the album would be the A-side single, Freddie said, “Bohemian Rhapsody”. However, their producer, Roy Thomas Baker, didn’t want to put an almost six minute long song as the single, thinking it was too long. The band sided with Freddie, and they convinced him to put “Bohemian Rhapsody” as the A-side single. (Important side note: the B-side single was “I’m In Love With My Car”, a fan-favourite Roger Taylor song, which was only included in the album because Roger hid himself in a cupboard.)
How much did you learn about Queen’s early days? Did you enjoy that big paragraph about “Bohemian Rhapsody”? (Did you learn enough about Roger Taylor (most likely not), or do you want more? If you are, I’m happy to write something all about Roger for absolutely no reason at all!)
Thank you for reading this! I’ve been really obsessed with Queen lately, and it’s been fun to write a piece about their early days. It gives me a way to share my love of Queen with other people.
(871 words)

Thank you to Stingray for feedback and helping me edit, and @-WildClan- for critique from the July 20th daily <3

Daily for July 17th

What’s the point in existing?
Everyday I get up, and never think about surviving. “Survival of the fittest”, as Charles Darwin called it. Food, water, clothing, house, oxygen. Seems like I have everything I need to live. The way society is made, I don’t have to think about getting water, as long as I pay a monthly water bill. I don’t have to think about growing food, as long as I go to the grocery store every now and then. I don’t have to think about making clothes, as long as I go to a clothes store to get new clothes. I don’t have to think about making sure I still have a habitat, as long as I eventually pay off my mortgage and keep the house in shape. I don’t have to think about breathing in oxygen, as long as I… still breathe, I guess.
Not existing would be better, I suppose. It would relieve stress. Well, I wouldn’t be able to feel anything in the first place if I didn’t exist. If I didn’t exist, this wouldn’t exist in the first place. I just wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t have to do anything, because I simply couldn’t, because I simply didn’t exist.
But you can’t choose to exist, or to not exist.
Once you do exist, though, you have to survive. Then there’s a point to exist, I suppose. That is, if you exist in the first place, there’s a point to surviving. I don’t know, I guess that works out. The point of life would be to be happy, right? I mean, I guess so. Not be stuck in a job working a fast food restaurant all your life (definitely not me), unless that makes you happy somehow. I suppose I get it if you just “want to ride bicycle” and not do anything else. If biking makes you happy, do it. Do what makes you happy.
Well, what else do I need?
I don’t know.
Well, maybe I do know. Maybe if I get the money to go to university, I could study geology, and be a rock expert like I’ve always wanted to be. I don’t mean geology, I mean music history, of course! Specifically, rock history, if that wasn’t obvious already.
But maybe I was supposed to be an orphan. Maybe I was supposed to grow up not being able to achieve my dreams. Maybe that’s what life does. Maybe it’s just really unfair to some people. So much to the point that it takes people’s lives. Because they think, “Oh if I die, I’ll stop existing.”
Wait—that’s not how it works. Not existing would mean not existing at all. Once you exist, you exist. You’ll stop living, but you’ll still exist. You’ll still have existed at one point. Not existing is not existing in the first place. I’ve never been so philosophical in my life, haven’t I?
I guess I’ve figured out life now…!? Ha, that’s probably the most confident thing I’ve said. Maybe I could just go work extra hours to get more money, then get a side job that pays more, and eventually get all the money I need for university? And sell my house to the people renting the suite, who actually need even the smallest house. (My friend moved out because they’re going to a different university now, so I have a small house to myself.) Yeah, I could do that. I will do that.
But what if I’ve got this all wrong? What if this is completely bonkers? What if the real answer is something that no human can ever think because we’ve been made to not be able to think that?
I don’t know. I simply do not know. Nobody does.
But I will still do my best in life, try to get into university, and do what makes me happy, anyway. So, this goes out to people who don’t like the life they’re living. Life can be great if you make it that way. Go down the road you want to go down. Don’t do the life people set out for you. Instead, write your own story. What makes you happy makes your life enjoyable.
I think about existing versus not existing more often now, but it still puzzles me. Even when I think I have a plausible answer, I always think about the fact that there’s no way for me to know if it’s the correct answer or not.
What’s the point in existing?
(749 words)

Daily for July 18th

For context:
Fairy tale chosen: Mulan <3
Time period: 1977 (they write with typewriters)
Setting: Sleep-deprived Writing Countries (SWC), different kingdoms/countries (cabins), each emperor/empress/emprex/etc. is the kingdom (cabin) ruler (leader), the writing army for a kingdom have 2-3 generals (co-leaders), each kingdom has a writing army (campers)
I know part of this doesn't make sense but forget it-


One morning, I woke up early from my mom shaking me.
“Mulan! Wake up, it’s your application day! You need to eat and get ready to go,” she said, quietly to not wake up my dad or my grandma.
Oh no. I forgot that it’s application day. I’ve been dreading this day for a long time. I don’t want to be a junior leader of a summer camp for little children! That’s like babysitting. I don’t want to do that, but Mama says it’ll help me when I become a mom and have my own children to raise. Well, what if I don’t have children?? And “mom” is… I don’t know. I kinda find it too feminine, I guess. I’ve always thought that I’m not the “perfect daughter”. I’m different, I know, but I’m not sure in what way.
I sat up in bed, and said, “Okay, Mama, I’m awake.” She stopped shaking me, and left the room to finish making breakfast. I yawned, and stretched. I crossed my room to my closet, and pulled out some nice-ish looking clothes. I dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

——

At the application place, Mama has me sitting with “good” posture and looking friendly. Once it’s my turn, we’re invited into the camp host’s office. Inside, there’s a plump lady with a friendly smile.
“Hello! You must be Mulan! And you must be her mom,” she added to my mom. “How are you?”
I smiled and said, “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Well, I have some questions for you, and that’s the whole application process!” This lady seemed to be over enthusiastic. “Tomorrow, there will be an email sent out to all applicants with details on who is chosen for junior leaders. Now, on with the questions!”
Everything started out fine, until we got to the second last question.
“What’s your experience with young children?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t have much. I’ve babysitted a couple times, but I don’t like it. Little kids are hard to deal with,” I said with an eye roll—completely forgetting that this was an application session and my mom was sitting right beside me.
The lady looked at me in a weird way. Sort of angry, I guess, since I’m wasting her time. “Why would you apply for this volunteer job if you don’t like dealing with kids?”
“Because my mom made me,” I blurted, avoiding all eye contact with my mom.
The lady pursed her lips, and said harshly, “In that case, you can leave. I don’t want to deal with people not willing to do something they’re applying for.”
Mama stood up sharply, smiled apologetically to the lady, and pulled me out of the room. She didn’t stop pulling me nor did she speak until we got home, which was only a few buildings down the road.
“What do you think you were doing?! You were supposed to get this volunteering opportunity since you’ll need some to get some extra credits when you finish high school!!!”
I just sat there, staring out the window. It’s never a good idea to talk to my mom when she’s mad.
“You’re grounded for the rest of the month—no TV, no fun activities, nothing.”
“WHAT??” I blurted. Oops.
“Yes. That’ll be your consequence for missing out on something highly important.”
I went back to staring out the window. I have a great summer to look forward to.

——

Later that day, I remembered that the summer wars are coming up soon. Writing wars, that is. You see, I live in the Fantasy Kingdom. There’s a bunch of other kingdoms, like Adventure, Horror, Fairy Tales, Science Fiction, and many more. We war each other three times a year. I’m not sure why, we just do. Every time, each family has to supply a member to be part of their kingdom’s writing army. My dad has done it way too many times. His hands are practically dead. But he’ll have to go again this year, because that’s the way it works. Mama can’t go because she works at the capital hospital, which is considered “necessary” work. (She deals with lots of writers with sprained or broken hands and wrists.) I would go this year since I’m old enough (finally!), but I’m grounded so I can’t. And Mama would’ve had me doing a stupid summer volunteer thingy instead.
I checked my calendar, and saw that the writers’ recruitment was happening tomorrow. Basically, one of the army generals comes to your city and gathers everyone. Then, each family member who volunteers themself gets given a paper with details of what theme we’re taking on this year, and where and when you have to meet for training camp.

——

The next day, one of the army generals arrived. Everyone gathered at the city centre, and the general went down a list of family names, handing a paper to each person who volunteered themself.
Soon enough, they reached the H’s. “Hua!” That’s us. It means “flower”, actually. Which I believe was this summer war session’s theme. Strange how they have themes for each war session. It’s mostly for the memory book, though. Which is also strange, having a memory book for a war. But that’s just how it works. Maybe it was a sign, though. Maybe I’m supposed to take my dad’s place.
Baba stepped forward, and took the paper.
“No! He’s too old,” I protested, rushing forwards. “I can go in his place. I’m old enough, I’m 15!”
Then Mama came and pulled me back. “You’re grounded, remember?” she hissed in my ear. “Your baba will be fine.”

——

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept on thinking about the fact that this war session’s theme was flowers. And that my family name is Hua, or 花 in Chinese characters—our written language. Suddenly, I had the idea to go steal my father’s paper and hitch a ride on a truck to the capital. I quietly got out of bed, changed out of my nightgown to something more suitable for war, and tiptoed in my parent’s bedroom. I silently picked up the paper, and headed to the kitchen to take some apples and bread. I also quickly and quietly fill a canteen with water, and put all the stuff in a satchel.
I headed out the back door, and made my way to the farmer’s fields, where a farmer loaded a truck with food to take to the capital. When he went back to his barn, I quickly ran and climbed into the back of the truck, settling myself hidden behind some potato sacks. The farmer came back, and started the engine. Soon enough, we were headed down the long roads to the capital.

——

I was asleep for part of the journey, but as soon as dawn broke through the clouds, I was wide awake. I had to get out of the truck somehow, before anyone noticed I was there. Just a few hundred meters outside the capital, the farmer stopped the truck. I peeked through the potato sacks to see why he’d stopped. I saw him across the road, talking to another guy in a truck. I knew they’d be there for a while, so I secretly hopped out of the other side of the truck, and walked into the tall grasses beside the road. Seeing that they were distracted by their conversation, I started walking until I was pretty much out of sight from them, before I went back up onto the road, walking along the shoulder until I reached the capital.
I’d been to the capital a few times, but not much. It seemed so much busier since I was last here. I took out the paper, and saw that the general that recruited people from my small city and nearby communities would meet at a specific address before heading to meet up with everyone else at the training camp in the countryside. I asked locals for directions, which was only partially necessary because there was a small crowd of people going in the same direction to the same place.

——

When I got there, everyone gathered around the general. I was one of the last ones, I guess. The general—Wren—introduced themself, then did a role call, making sure everyone was here. When they got to my family name, I told them that my dad let me take his place. A safe enough lie.
Wren went on to explain that the empress divided up the kingdom to form word count groups for each general and herself. Each general was given the task to gather every volunteer from the section of the country assigned to them, and fill them in on all the details about this war session and how it all works. Fantasy Kingdom’s theme of the war session was knights. So we’d have to go to war as knights in shining armour. (We wouldn’t wear real armour of course, but we’d act like knights and all our dailies and weeklies would be that sort of fantasy-themed.) We’d be writing with typewriters provided by the government, and after every page we wrote—whether it was in training or in the real wars—we’d count the words and update our general with our new words written, to add to our progress charts with our word goals and for the real wars, if applicable. During training, we’d write whatever we wanted, really, though there were also dailies and weeklies provided, and then we’d keep writing every day and night (mostly in the night) to get our writing speeds faster. After our training was completed, we’d separate into groups, so that if we lost a lot of wars, we wouldn’t lose most of our writers. We’d go to a neighbouring kingdom and declare war. They’d have to write as much as we required, usually with an extra challenge as well, in a certain amount of time, and if they failed, we’d gain whatever amount of writers we thought was applicable. Meanwhile, other kingdoms could war us, so we’d have to be alert and ready to write as fast as possible all the time.
After Wren finished explaining everything, they said, “Well, that’s it. Any questions?”
Some people asked some questions, and Wren did their best to answer them. I didn’t have any questions to ask, because I was fairly familiar with the wars, as I used to ask my dad all about them when I was little.
Once nobody had any more questions, Wren glanced around the room and said, “Looks like we’re ready to go! Oh—I forgot to mention that we’re going to a place in the countryside where we’ll have plenty of space to be chaotic. We’ll walk to the outskirts of the city, to find our rides.”

——

Our rides turned out to be a bunch of military trucks. Except they weren’t ordinary military trucks. They were, well, writing military trucks. Perfect for an army of writers, with folding tables for writing on.
It didn’t take us long to get to our destination, which was basically a couple barn-sized buildings on a field in the middle of nowhere. After everyone got out of the military trucks, Wren explained that one building was the main writing area (basically a bunch of desks and chairs and couches) and the dorm upstairs (which was hardly used, hence the fact that this world is called Sleep-deprived Writing Countries, or SWC for short), and the other building was the mess hall and showers.

——

Training started right away—I mean, write away. I’m so good at puns. I was kind of slow at first, since I didn’t use a typewriter often, but after I got used to it, I blasted off like a rocket. Daily after daily, weekly after weekly, give me whatever you’ve got. Except sometimes I got writers’ block, obviously. Then I was really stuck and didn’t know what to write. But it was fun, and sleep-depriving, but that was part of the fun, anyway. I made good friends, chaotic writing partners. We sometimes wrote together, and we also read each other’s writing, to provide critique and just to see how chaotic we can write. We also learned all about typewriters—how to fix them, what not to do, etc. You have to know your weapons before going to war. (We weren’t going to yeet typewriters at the enemy, but we still have to know how to fix them and such.)

——

Two weeks later was the first warring week. Then we’d go back to another week of training before a final week of war. My word count group went to the northern border—where all the mountains were located. We drove there in our military trucks with two month’s supply of paper and even more ink. Writing wars mean lots of paper and ink. Also, if you found a typewriter that was broken in any way, you’d give it to one of the people who were taking a break so they could fix it while you kept writing on a different typewriter. We reached the border, and found a camp of some of Adventure Kingdom’s army there. I thought that they were actual explorers at first, from what they had with them and their tents. Turns out their theme was camping. Our general was quicker than them, and yelled a declaration of war before the other general could do it. We made them write 20,000 words in 3 hours, or they’d lose 3 writers. The extra challenge was to only write in Old Shakespearean English, and if at least 5 writers did that, and they won the war, we’d give them 3 writers. We stayed in our military trucks, and worked on the weekly.

——

Almost 3 hours later, the general met with Wren and showed proof of 20,000 words. They didn’t complete the extra challenge, so thankfully, we didn’t have to lose writers. Because we just warred them, they couldn’t war us back right away, unless one of their other divisions warred us.
Suddenly, some Sci-Fi Kingdom’s army came flying down from the sky and landed in a circle around us. Looking up, it seemed as though they skydived from an airplane. Wonder how they managed that without hurting themselves. Well, they are the Sci-Fi Kingdom. Anyway, they warred us, so we had to write 25,000 words in 3 and a half hours. Lucky us.

——

Three hours later, we had only written 15,000 words. I pushed myself and didn’t care for all the spelling mistakes I made. I wrote at the speed of light and burned all the calories in my body. Well, that’s an exaggeration obviously. I can’t write at the speed of light, but I sure did feel dead when I finished. Just as dead as I’ll be when I get home, I suddenly thought. That’s when I realized that I’d really be dead when I’d get home. Oh no. I’d be a wilted flower for sure. I started panicking with whatever energy I had left. I got Wren’s attention.
“General…I lied…I didn’t really take my dad’s place…I snuck out in the middle of the night to get here…and I was already grounded so I’ll be more than dead when I get home…help me…” Then I fell asleep from using up a lot of energy while already sleep-deprived.

——

When I woke up, it was more than 12 hours later. I found that I was lying on the bench seat at the back of the truck with a blanket put over me—and a hand on my shoulder. Once I sat up, the hand retreated quite quickly. The person whose hand it belonged to was actually Wren. They blushed, and muttered an apology while staring at the ground. Then they got themself composed as the general.
“Mulan…I’m sorry, but I can’t take you on with the rest of the army. I’m really sorry, but that’s how it works. If you’re underage and come without your parents’ permission, you can’t come.”
“But I’m 15! That’s above the minimum age, right?” I protested.
“Yes, but you’re still not a legal adult. I’m sorry, but you can’t participate in camp anymore. Being still a teenager, I can’t leave you by yourself in the middle of nowhere, so you’ll still have to come with us. But you can’t write.”

——

You can’t write. Those words resonated in my head for the rest of the month. It was so boring for the rest of the month, reading my friends’ writing, but not being able to write myself. Eventually, the last war came up at the end of the month. The biggest war of them all. It was a 6-way war between Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Adventure, Hi-Fi, Fan-Fi and Real-Fi. Basically, the four “Fi”s plus Fantasy and Adventure. We were warring Sci-Fi, Sci-Fi warring Adventure, Adventure warring Hi-Fi, Hi-Fi warring Fan-Fi, Fan-Fi warring Real-Fi, and Real-Fi warred us. All wars that day lasted 10 hours, as per the rules.
We were doing pretty good, but once we reached the 6 hour mark, many of our writers were really tired, even with the breaks they were taking. I asked Wren if I could write. They looked at me sadly and shook their head, saying, “I can’t break the rules.”
“Why don’t you break them for once? Do it for the sake of our kingdom. I’m one of the fastest writers we’ve got, and I haven’t written in two weeks. I’ll be faster than any of them.”
Wren looked at me and their cheeks turned a little pink. “Fine, you can write. I’ll get demoted from the general position, but that’s okay. You’re a great writer, Mulan. Not just a fast one. I love—um, your writing.” It seemed as though they were going to say something else, but instead said “your writing”. I didn’t really notice though, since I’d already picked up the nearest typewriter and started writing like crazy.

——

We ended up winning the war—thanks to me, according to Wren and pretty much everyone else. I “saved the kingdom” apparently. Wren took me home, to let my parents know what I did.
When my dad heard the news, he was really proud of me. He didn’t care about the fact that I was grounded or anything. He was happy that I did such good service for the kingdom. He invited Wren to stay for dinner, and right after, my grandma said, “Would you like to stay forever??”, which made them blush a lot.
My mom was happy to hear that I did good service to the kingdom, so she let off any other punishments she would’ve given me for sneaking out in the middle of the night and not coming back for a month. I was still grounded though.

(3126 words and yes I know this is a daily-)

Daily for July 19th

(Since it's Brian May's birthday, I featured the song ‘39 in my daily though it’s mostly in there because it's stuck in my head )

I sat, reading a book about Queen. It was quite fascinating, in fact. You could say that my favourite parts were the pictures. Definitely not the ones of a certain somebody.
“Hello there!” came a voice.
My head snapped up, and I saw Stingray standing there petting my cat. I jumped a little, and said, “Ahh!!!” I almost dropped my book, but thankfully, I didn’t. “Stingray! You’re back already? I didn’t even hear you come in!”
“Yup, I’m back. The groceries are in the kitchen.”
“Did it arrive yet?!”
Stingray rolled her eyes. “No. Why are you asking 10 times a day if your Roger t-shirt has arrived? You know that you’ll get an email when it’s been delivered.”
“I’m just so excited for it to comeee,” I said, grinning.
“You’re definitely way too obsessed with Roger.”
“What? No! I just really like him, that’s all.” I blushed a little.
“You mean, you really love him.” Stingray smirked.
“No! No, that’s…actually, yeah, that’s what I meant.” I turned into a tomato.
“Don’t you stress about the t-shirt arriving, it’ll come.”
“But what if it doesn’t?!?!”
“Aqua—Violet—same difference—if you stop thinking about it, it’ll come faster than you can say Bohemian Rhapsody.”
“I can say Bohemian Rhapsody pretty fast though. What if I said ‘Another One Bites The Dust’? That’s a little harder to say fast. And it’s longer.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Stingray shut her eyes as if facepalming without hitting her face. You see, once you start petting my cat, you can’t stop. Because my cat won’t allow it. So Stingray’s hands were busy at that moment and couldn’t facepalm.
“Oh, Stingray, check this out!” I remembered a picture I saw in the book that I wanted to show her when she got back. I flipped to the right page, then showed her the book, pointing at the picture.
Once her eyes made contact with the picture, she snorted, then started giggling, which eventually turned into unstoppable laughter. My cat got tired of Stingray and hopped to the ground, running off to who knows where. I started laughing with her, and we spent who knows how long laughing about a weird, funny picture of Roger Taylor. I’m not sure why it was so funny, but it just was.
Once the laughter subsided, I put down the book with an idea in mind. I picked up my purple bass guitar, while saying to Stingray, “I just had an idea of a cool bass riff.” I started plunking away, and after some note and rhythm adjustments and Stingray feedback, I got a pretty cool riff down. Stingray crossed the room and picked up her acoustic guitar, and she matched my riff with the appropriate chords.
After a moment, I said, “Hey, this reminds me of ‘ ’39’! And this riff could sound cool as a solo.”
We started singing ‘ ’39’ together, laughing as I attempted—and failed—to sing Roger’s high-pitched “Aaaahhhhhh”s.
(490 words)

(Part of my writing comp entry to be critiqued )

After that, was A Night At The Opera. An explanation probably isn’t necessary, as it is one of their most famous albums, with the groundbreaking five minute and fifty-five second A-side single “Bohemian Rhapsody”. But because we’re here, I’m just going to spew out some facts about “Bohemian Rhapsody” because why not. In those days, recordings were done on these big tapes, and the whiter the tape was, the more multi-tracking it had. The “Bohemian Rhapsody” tape was so white that it was almost clear from all the multi-tracking and overdubs. It’s said to have around 180 overdubs, but some say that that’s just an exaggeration. Originally, the Galileo part in the operatic section was going to be Freddie doing both the high part (the falsetto) and the low part, but later it was changed so that Roger would do the falsetto, with good reason, of course, because Roger has an amazing falsetto. Because of all the harmonies and vocal parts it had, the band thought it would be too hard to make a regular promotional video of them performing it, so they went down a different route to make what is considered to be the first music video in the history of music. When it came to deciding which song from the album would be the A-side single, obviously, Freddie said, “Bohemian Rhapsody”, but their producer, Roy Thomas Baker, didn’t want to put an almost six minute long song as the single, thinking it was too long. But, the band sided with Freddie, and they convinced him to put “Bohemian Rhapsody” as the A-side single. (Important side note: the B-side single was “I’m In Love With My Car”, a fan-favourite Roger Taylor song, which only got on the album because Roger hid himself in a cupboard.)
How much did you learn about Queen’s early days? Did you enjoy that big paragraph about “Bohemian Rhapsody”? (Did you learn enough about Roger Taylor (most likely not), or do you want more? If you are, I’m happy to write something all about Roger for definitely no reason at all!) Well, thank you for reading this! I’ve been really obsessed with Queen lately, and it’s been fun to write a piece about their early days. It gives me a way to share my love of Queen with other people.
(386 words)

Daily for July 20th

Critique of Wari's writing comp entry excerpt (https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6471911/ ):

First, I'd like to say that wow, I really like how you formed Kira as a character, with each element in the excerpt fitting in to make her imaginable as a person. Also, I found it really intriguing and I'm excited to read the rest! Now, to get critiquing, I think some more information about the setting would be better. From the start, I could tell that it was a sort of fantasy world with magic, but I think more details about what kind of world it is would help the reader better picture the setting of the story. As for Kira, like I said, you did a great job at making her imaginable, and I mean that more in the sense of personality, traits, and who she is as a person. I think it’s lacking some physical appearance details. The only words that I found to help me picture her was a teenage girl who had a staff. Sometimes it’s easy to forget to add details about your character’s appearance, because you know everything about your character, and just write the story, but forget that readers only see the story. I admit that I forget sometimes. Okay, more like a lot. Anyway, I think it’s a really good piece, and I can’t really find much other stuff to critique! Best of luck in the writing competition!
(227 words)

(Unfinished) Weekly #3

So I didn't finish the weekly in time, but here's part 1 and 2! Unfortunately, as I was rushing and as I only did part 1 and 2, there are no Queen references. (okay maybe I could find one…but what I mean is I didn't remember to purposely stick one in)

Part 1

Brainstorming:

• Varying biomes throughout the world
  
• In one major kingdom, the Amber Kingdom, endless prairies (farmland) and some forests
  
• In the other, the Sapphire Kingdom, cool forests on the ocean
  
• Land separated into kingdoms, all ruled by monarchy
  
• All kingdoms have armies
  
• Main language is English (known as the Common Tongue to people in the world)
  
• There is also the ancient magic language, referred to as the Magical Tongue (sometimes simply Magic Tongue)
  
• Each kingdom has its own coven of magic users (examples of different types: witches, wizards, mages, sorcerers, and more)
  
• Each coven leader is chosen by a vote by the High Magic Council (HMC)
  
• The HMC is comprised of the best (and typically eldest) magic users from all kingdoms
  
• Magic is not widespread (only in select kingdoms, mostly in its original kingdom)
  
• Magic is a soft magic system and is commonly used on a daily basis
  
• Most things can be done with magic, if the correct spell is performed
  
• Mispronunciation or any other way of not correctly performing the spell will result in either another spell being produced or varying degrees of catastrophic events, depending on the size and difficulty of the spell (pretty much anything from small explosions to spontaneous combustions to showers of sparkles and fairy dust)
  
• Non-magic users are not frowned upon nor thought of as lower class
  
• In fact, non-magic users help govern society in which both magic and non-magic users can easily live and cooperate
  
• Typically, in most kingdoms other than magic’s home kingdom, they are governed by non-magic users because there are less magic users there
  
• The symbol of magic is the most easily recognizable icon in this world (it is a wand with sparkles around it and a bright light at the tip)
  
• Each kingdom’s society varies in terms of politeness and mannerisms
  
• In the Amber Kingdom, it is expected to attend school until at least the age of 14, work hard, take life seriously, serve a minimum of one year in the army (minimum age: 15), and be grateful, generous, and respectful (of elders, most importantly).
  
• In the Sapphire Kingdom, it is expected to treat life as if it’s more of a rollercoaster with its ups and downs, explore anything and everything, provide service to your kingdom, live life to its fullest, and be kind, humble, thankful, gracious, and friendly.
  

Connections (using bolded items):
In the wide world of magical kingdoms, there lies the grand Sapphire Kingdom, nestled in front of the deep, dark ocean. To the east, the Amber Kingdom is located, with its strong, armoured army. Each kingdom is unique in its own way, from their coven leaders to their beliefs. Nonetheless, these two kingdoms are the largest and most populated of them all, despite neither being the original home of magic. This magic originates in a deep cavern near a lake nestled in the centre of the continent. It is said that fairies used to reside there, before moving on to other worlds, giving it that sparkle of magic. The ancient magic language, the Magical Tongue, is still used in the present day, for spells, potions and the like. In each kingdom, a coven of magic users are basically separate divisions of magic. Each coven’s leader is voted in by the High Magic Council, or HMC, which is a council of the best—and typically eldest—magic users from across the world. However, not everyone is born with magic, and can never learn this gift. Still, they are not thought of as lower class, and get along quite well with magic users, such as in the Amber Kingdom, where their non-magic army is fronted by sorcerers—magic users who’ve learnt combat and defense magic. In the Amber Kingdom, it is a hard-working, serious, yet grateful and respectful lifestyle that is encouraged and heavily enforced, especially through a requirement to serve in the army for at least a year. Education is also considered important, and children are expected to attend school until at least the age of 14. Whereas in the Sapphire Kingdom, the lifestyle encouraged by society is to take life easily and live life to its fullest. It’s also highly encouraged to try new things and explore different areas of interest that you may never have thought of before. Providing good service to your kingdom is one of the sole requirements, along with decent schooling. Being kind, humble, thankful, gracious and friendly are common traits among this society, showing their empathy to living life to its fullest.
(354 words)

Narrative:
“Connor! Wake up!” yelled a voice from downstairs.
I groggily rolled over in bed. I obviously don’t want to go to school today. Pushing the bedsheets aside, I stumbled out of bed, still half-asleep. As I walked to my closet, I passed my mirror, seeing the reflection of a tired 14-year-old boy. I opened the closet door with a simple non-verbal spell, then randomly selected clothes. Being too tired to put them on myself, I magicked them on, and left my pajamas on my bed.
I was walking down the stairs when my mom yelled at me again. “Connor!! You’re going to be late for school!”
“I’m here,” I replied, trudging into the kitchen.
“Here, eat quickly.” My mom tossed me some buttered bread across the room. She was also a magic user, like me. I caught the bread in my mouth surprisingly, but then again, my mom threw it across the room with magic and she was aiming for my mouth, anyway.
After I finished the toast, I took a sip from my mom’s black tea when she was busy doing my little sister’s hair. Yes, I know, I’m a little naughty, you could say. I grabbed my bag, did a quick check to make sure I had everything I needed, then ran out the door, while saying, “See you later!”
——
Thankfully, I made it to school only slightly late. Well, it’s not really a normal school. I take group lessons from the princex of the kingdom, who is a sorcerer. It’s located in a room that’s on the side of the palace. Once you’re around age 12, it’s highly encouraged to switch from magic school to group lessons to learn more on the specific type of magic you want to learn. Of course, you can take a few different group lessons, if you’re interested in more than one type of magic, though that would result in more homework. The princex, Riley, happens to have a younger sister who is my best friend. Her name’s Casey, nicknamed Cae by me, though she doesn’t have the talent for magic, unlike her sibling and her mom. We still get along well, and she’s an awesome warrior. Some day, she’ll lead the army, for sure.
“Hey—Princex Riley—sorry—I’m little late—” I panted, bent over with a hand on the doorframe. I had to run the last few hundred metres.
“Connor, did you wake up late again?” said a familiar amused voice.
“No, why would I, Cae?” I stand up straight, smirking.
Casey rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m off to combat practice. See you at your lunch break?”
“Yeah, see ya.”
Casey walked out the room and down the hallway, auburn hair glinting in the torch light.
“Well, Connor, take your seat,” said Riley, in their typical calm voice. I did, and class began.
(470 words)

Total word count for part 1: 824

Part 2

Questionnaire:
1. What kind of magic is used in your world?
A: The magic used in this world are verbal and non-verbal spells. For typically, day-to-day things, they are non-verbal spells, but for big, hard incantations, there are spoken words necessary. Magic can be used for various things, such as brewing potions if you’re a witch, or help with household tasks. This magic often exhibits sparkles when a spell is performed, though not always. Some spells that don’t show sparkles are meant to be that way to be sneaky. The colour of the sparkles depends on what type of magic it is. There are no set laws to magic in this world; it does what it does. (105 words)
2. How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
A: In everyday life, magic users typically use magic to help them with things such as household chores, while they are busy with something else. Lazy magic users tend to use magic for things they don’t feel like doing. All of these sorts of spells are non-verbal, yet still require training in magic school. More specific magic is divided into different categories: witches, wizards, sorcerers, mages, and warlocks. Witches specialize in potions, wizards are good at changing objects (shape, appearance, size, giving it life, etc.), sorcerers are trained in fighting with magic, mages specialize in magical knowledge and charms, and warlocks are good with magical creatures. (105 words)
3. What is the origin of your magic?
A: Magic originated in a dark cave near a lake in the centre of the largest continent. Legend has it that transdimensional fairies appeared as famished humans, stayed for some time from the kindest of the humans living in that cave. They left some magic there, making it have a strong magic threshold, and splashed those humans with magic powers as a thank you for their hospitality. The stories say that those fairies travel across dimensions and galaxies to different worlds and sprinkle magic along the way. They are considered to be sort of like gods to the humans in this world. (101 words)
4. How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
A: Magic is fairly common, and not all characters possess it. Only some do, about half of the world population. Magic was given to a few humans, thus most of their next generations have magic. Though, some are born without magic, but it is not looked down upon. Everyone knows about it, and most non-magic users are not jealous of magic users. They see each other as equals, and not as one of higher class and the other lower. It’s common for young non-magic children to be jealous of magic children, though they learn from adults to get rid of their envy. (101 words)
5. 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.)?
A: Magic is viewed as a normal part of life, though more complex spells are considered to be wonders. Non-magic users tend to ask their magic neighbours for help, and magic users are not thought of as capable of doing stuff for non-magic users. Neither side of society thinks bad things of the other, as a community. (Individual opinions may vary.) They both respect each other, and coexist in the world. Being a non-magic user may pose you slight disadvantages, but the point of magic users is to help everyone, like the original magic users helped the fairies. (97 words)
6. Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
A: Compared to modern society, magic users in my world often use magic as a helping tool, to help themselves complete jobs, or to help non-magic users with anything that requires a magic touch (or is simply easier and more time-efficient). Specifically, witches brew potions, typically for healing, wizards change the characteristics of an object, for aesthetically pleasing or for a purpose, sorcerers use their combat and defence magic to protect people, mages learn more about magic to learn new spells and such, and warlocks work with magical creatures for things such as transportation. Magic is generally viewed as a special helper, in a way. (104 words)
7. How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
A: There are two education systems, the magic one and the non-magic one. In the magic one, you would attend a magic school where you’d learn things such as simple non-verbal spells that you’d use on a daily basis. Upon reaching the age of 12, you’d be encouraged to pick which type of magic interests you the most, and you’d then attend group lessons for one or more types of magic. Unlike in the non-magic system, magic users are not required to serve a minimum of one year in the army, unless you are a sorcerer. In the non-magic system, it is required for you to attend school until at least the age of 14, and you must also serve a minimum of one year in the army. (Though the minimum age for army service is 15.) (136 words)
8. What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
A: If magic gets out of control, it would likely cause a split between the non-magic users and the magic users, causing a world wide war to erupt. If the magic gets quite out of control, it’s likely for the whole world to spontaneously combust because that can happen with magic sometimes. Then you’d be left with a world of sparkles. Which is fine, though, because magic is on other worlds, too, so it’s not like the magic would never exist again. (81 words)
9. What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
A: Typical slang for magic is words such as sparkle, spagic, mag, and arkle. Spagic is a combination of sparkle and magic, mag is a shortened version of magic, and arkle is a shortened version of sparkle. Sparkles are associated with magic because that’s often what is produced when casting a spell, and if magic was a physical thing, it would be represented by sparkles. Also, the reason that sparkles are made when doing magic is because those transdimensional fairies are technically sparkle-based organisms. (83 words)
10. Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
A: Magic does affect the government of my world. Because magic users co-exist with non-magic users, they have to work together in their government system (monarchy) to achieve a good society. For example, the king of the Amber Kingdom happens to be a non-magic user, but his wife, the queen, is a magic user, and one of their children is magic, and the other non-magic. He married his mage wife because he wanted someone to help him rule the kingdom from a magic point of view. (Obviously, he loved her as well.) (91 words)

Total word count for part 2: 1004

——

Total word count (part 1 and 2): 1828

Daily for July 24th

The smell of sugar
Fills the warm air
How I love this scent!
I love it more than panda bears

The sight of chocolate chip cookies
Makes me smile
I look for the biggest one
For the first time in a while

The feeling of chewiness
As I sink my teeth in
It distracts me
As crumbs fall down my chin

The taste of chocolate
Smooth and melted
On my tongue
Is chocolate pelted

When nothing but crumbs
Remain in my hand
It’s okay, I can go for another
Until I wind up in sugarland

Chocolate chip cookies
What a delight!
A cookie is an energy-giver
When you need to write

(111 words)

Daily for July 25th

As you walk through the city, you pass the newly constructed theatre. You stop, noticing the signs in the windows, advertising the new play coming up. Though, they still need more cast members. The play looks interesting, as you read the signs. It’s a story about people wanting to fit in while still being themselves. You decide to enter the building, unsure of auditioning. Maybe you could join the stage crew. Walking through the lobby, you take in the new, gleaming look. No one seems to be around—it’ll be fine if you enter the theatre, right? You push open the big doors to see the biggest stage you’ve ever seen, with long rows of red chairs in front of it. You look around in awe as you walk down the middle aisle, right to the stage.
“Hey there!” calls a voice. You look around, but see nobody. “Sorry, just a second!” Someone comes sliding down a rope from rafters above the stage. “You here to audition?”
“Uh, I’m not sure yet,” you reply.
“No worries! You can join the stage crew until you feel like joining the cast. Follow me!” The person runs off-stage, and you follow them curiously.
(199 words)

Weekly #4 - SusWC

Intro:
When all is dark, your eyes will adjust to the darkness and find the light at the end of the tunnel.
That was the last line in the book that Jordan was reading. They thought about it for a minute. It made sense, they presumed. In darkness, your eyes will adjust to see things. They closed the book, set it down on their bedside table, and got off their bed. They took a seat at their desk, and opened their laptop. Once signed in, they opened a new Google Doc. Time to start writing.
Recently, they’d decided to use the first or last line of a chapter in the book they were reading as a writing prompt. This time, they knew exactly what this story would be about.
(128 words)

Broom closet (change setting from clean to messy or vice versa (depending on how it was in the beginning) for five minutes):
Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” they said.
The door opened, and in walked their mom. “Hey Jordan, want to play a board game? Your dad doesn’t want to play, but your sister and I are up for it.”
“Uh, what game are we playing? As long as it’s not Queen Monopoly, then sure, I guess.”
“We’re playing Scrab—”
“Yes, then I’m definitely playing!” Jordan closed their laptop and stood up, but could not exit their room. Their mom was standing in the way, with a slightly mad look on her face.
“No, you’re not. I just noticed that you did not clean your room as I asked you to. Clean it now.” Their mom exited the room without another word.
Jordan took a look at their room. They suddenly realized that, yes, it was in fact messy.
(142 words)

Fixing the elevator (stop doing the weekly and listen to music/look at abstract art/look at landscape pictures for ten minutes without doing anything else): I listened to music (Queen to be specific )

Mango trees (have a character presumed dead by the main character actually be alive for 8 minutes):
As Jordan began cleaning their room, they developed their story. Suddenly, they heard a knock on their window. This was strange, because the only person to knock on their window was… their cousin, Rose, who had died a few years ago from some disease. The two had been fairly close, so that was a hard loss to get over. But nobody but Rose would knock on Jordan’s window. Jordan walked over to their window, pulled up the blind, and saw Rose standing there, waving with a cheerful smile on her face.
Jordan did a double take, opened the window, and said, “What the heck—Rose, is that you?!! Aren’t you supposed to be dead?!?!”
“Hey Jordan! I’m not dead, what do you mean? I never died. What have your parents been telling you?” Rose looked at them like they were crazy. “I’ve just been away for a while. I went to boarding school, remember? And then in the summers and breaks, my parents took me on long educational vacations. Which were horrible. But anyway, want to hang out?”
Jordan’s mind was racing. Rose wasn’t dead, like their parents told them. She was just away for a few years. A few years. Nobody goes away for a few years with no message. Something was definitely cooked up by both of their parents. “Yeah, go around the back and I’ll meet you at the back door.”
(233 words)

Fixing the gas leak (stop doing the weekly and do something else creative for 15 minutes): I drew :]

Judge room (a character reveals one of their main motives is attention for 200 words):
After Rose entered the back door and made it to Jordan’s room, Jordan invited Rose to sit wherever she pleased. She chose the bean bag chair, so Jordan sat on the desk chair.
“Why would you go away for a long time, without any message, and my parents tell me you’re dead?!” Jordan wondered out loud. “It doesn’t make sense, at all.”
“Well, I know part of the reason, but my parents could explain better,” said Rose quietly. “It was their idea.”
“What was? You disappearing for three years?”
“She didn’t disappear,” came a voice from the doorway. There stood Rose’s parents.
“Then what happened?” I demanded. I needed to have answers.
“We came up with a plan to make her a kid celebrity, in turn to make us celebrities,” said Rose’s dad.
“We wanted attention,” added Rose’s mom. “We wanted people to see how we—average parents—could have an extraordinary kid. We told the family that Rose died from a disease, and that we were moving to another country to live a private, reclusive life. What we did, in reality, was take new names and appearances.”
“And then, we’d turn Rose into a celebrity,” continued her dad.
Jordan took a moment to process all of this. How could her parents take control of her life like this? It was totally unfair.
(221 words)

Fix the rankings (write a list of 5 achievements that I’m most proud of): I’d prefer to keep this private but I did do it.

Zai’s epic polar bear lasagna booth :] (in the Daily Team room) (make a new line every 8-10 words I write for 15 minutes):
That night, Jordan wondered about how strange Rose’s parents were.
Honestly, why would they do that? they thought.
They lay on their back, staring at the ceiling.
Rose would have protested, right? That’s part of her personality.
But her parents didn’t see her side of things.
Who are you? What are you doing here?
I’m a voice in your head, of course.
What? So you’re also me? But also not?
I guess so. I guess not. Who knows.
God knows. But only because Rogerina said that.
What the heck do you mean by that?
She said, “God knows.” I’m quoting her, if you know!
Of course I know! I’m you! But also not you!
Then why are you confused if you’re me?
I don’t know! I don’t know everything about you.
What? But if you’re me…then you should.
(138 words)

Put out the roof fire (eat something or drink water in small sips for at least five minutes): I ate lunch :]

Fantasy weekly workshop (write 300 words adding a magical element and make it feel natural):
Jordan woke up the next day with an odd feeling. Something seemed different today. They walked downstairs for breakfast, and saw their mom making pancakes for breakfast. Except that there was a flipper flipping the pancakes by itself. For some reason, Jordan wasn’t surprised. They didn’t know why. It just seemed so natural and easy to shrug off. Something was weird though. They didn’t know what. Something must’ve happened last night.
“Morning, mom,” they said, yawning.
“Good morning, Jordan. Awake early today?” she asked.
“What?”
“It’s seven thirty. Usually, you’re up at eight thirty or even nine.”
“Was it daylight savings last night or something?”
“…No.” Their mom frowned. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay, here—the first pancakes are ready to eat.” She gestured to a stack of pancakes on a plate. Jordan picked it up and sat at the table.
“Mom, did you know about the thing that Rose’s parents did?” they asked, pouring maple syrup over the pancakes.
“Hm? Who’s Rose? Is that a new friend?” asked their mom.
“My cousin, of course.”
“You don’t have any cousins. You know that I’m an only child, and your dad’s brother is aroace and doesn’t have any adopted children.”
What is going on? Jordan thought. Something happened last night. I don’t know what, but there was a voice in my head. And then now I wake up an hour early and my mom says I don’t have a cousin.
“Jordan? You spaced out. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Their mom looked at them with concern.
“What? Yeah, of course.”
“Oh! Look at the time. You need to head off to your magic class now or you’ll be late. Like usual,” she added with an eye roll.
“What magic class? It’s summer break. And I don’t go to any magic class.”
“Jordan, stop messing with me. Go get your stuff.”
“I’m not messing with you! What’s going on?”
“It’s the middle of the school year and you have a magic class to attend. Now go.”
“Last time I checked it was summer break!”
A bag with books and some other things levitated towards Jordan and struck them in the chest. They caught it, and looked at their mom. She had casted some sort of spell on the bag. Then she casted another spell which pushed Jordan out the door.
“Be home no later than four, Jordan!” their mom called after them. “Have a magical day.”
(407 words)

Save the writing comp entries (read a book or online article for ten minutes): I read a book.

gHosts throne in the throne room (write 300 words in which my character has a sudden flashback to a previous event):
While Jordan was at magic class, they promptly raised their hand to answer almost every question, knew all the answers, and was jokingly called a “little queer nerd” by a friend. It felt normal. Nothing had changed. They were used to this. But Jordan had no memory of ever attending a magic class before.
Suddenly, when class was almost over, Jordan’s vision suddenly turned into shades of a gradient rainbow. Then everything went black. They looked down, and saw their body, standing in infinite darkness.
“Hello?” they called. A rainbow glow encircled each of their feet as they took a step forward, and a low, soft thud echoed around them.
After a moment, the darkness slowly disappeared like a veil being removed from covering something. Jordan found themself in a classroom with a bunch of 9 and 10-year-olds being chaotic. They suddenly realized where they were. Back when they were in grade 5, before they’d transitioned, school was heck. And they hated it. This was their grade 5 class, and it was worse than any other year. “It” didn’t mean just the class. It also meant the bullying. They were bullied almost daily for their “boyish” appearance. Their uncomfortability with using the girls’ bathroom. The way they flinched when people used she/her pronouns and their deadname for them. Them being themself.
Easily, they spotted themself—a small, masculine “girl” with short, choppy hair, in the corner of the room, trying to draw in peace alone. The boys—and some of the girls—went over to them.
“Hey, Sabrina, why are you all alone?” asked one of the boys.
“Oh it’s because she doesn’t have any friends,” said another. They all started cackling.
They began to hurl more insults, and eventually, little Jordan couldn’t take it anymore.
“Shut up!!!” they said, and balled a piece of paper up which they threw as hard as they could at the boys.
The Jordan experiencing the flashback tried to intervene, but nobody could hear them or see them. Soon enough, their vision turned rainbow again and then they were back in their magic class.
(348 words)

Unlock the door (write a list of ten awesome things about a person that has greatly impacted my life (on Scratch or irl) and give it to them): I’d rather not share, but I assure you that I did write a list of ten awesome things about the amazing Stingray who is very much cooler than me so go follow her right now. (and I gave it to her)

Fantasy/Fairy Tales/Myth table in the dining hall (incorporate features of fantasy, fairy tales OR myth into my writing for five minutes):
“Jordan, you must’ve had a magical vision,” said the magic class’s teacher.
“What?” Jordan asked, feeling a little dizzy.
“These are rare for someone as young as you.” The teacher crossed the room and rummaged in a cupboard. He returned with a small jar with a blue substance in it. “Here drink this, it’ll make you feel better.” He handed the jar to Jordan, who took it and emptied the jar. They suddenly felt a lot better.
“Are you okay, Jordan?” asked the friend who had called them a “little queer nerd”. His name was Thomas.
“Yeah I’m fine,” they replied.
“You should probably go home now,” said the teacher. “Oh, well class is almost over anyway. Tell your parents what happened, okay?”
“But I don’t really understand what happened,” said Jordan.
“They can explain to you. They know more about magical flashbacks than I do.”
(146 words)

Stop the flooding (say something positive to at least three people who run SWC such as hosts, leaders, daily team members, etc.): I thanked Cae (leader of my cabin!), Birdi and Robin for their work and effort they put into SWC

Rec room (write at least 200 words where my character is transported into another world):
Upon arriving home, Jordan set their bag down in the kitchen.
“Hello?” they said. “Mom? Dad?” No answer.
They walked around the house, looking for their parents or any note they would’ve left for them. Arriving in the living room, they saw a swirling green magic portal. Despite being three feet away from it, Jordan was suddenly sucked inside the portal.
——
Jordan landed inside a forest, and they didn’t know where or exactly what it was. This was definitely new and surprising. The air felt different, and the trees weren’t exactly normal trees. They had purple leaves and seemed to be snoring. Jordan looked up to the sky and saw sparkling stars scattered across a dark sky. It was night, for sure. They noticed a trail on the ground and decided to follow it. Eventually, they reached a clearing where a lone large tree stood. Something was different about it though. It wasn’t like the other trees in the forest.
When Jordan reached the base of it, a low and soft voice rumbled, “Hello, Jordan Woods.”
“Uh…hi?” Jordan was confused. Was that the large tree that was talking?
“You seek your parents, I see. Hmm.”
“Um, yeah, how’d you know that?”
“That’s not the right question to ask, Jordan Woods.”
“What do you mean?”
The tree chuckled deeply.
“In time, you will know. For now… ‘You will head to the dangers of Feev / Traverse a bridge sunburned / Then you will bear the weight of crikine / If you wish your parents returned.’ ”
“What? What is all that supposed to mean?”
But the tree had fallen asleep and was now snoring like the rest.
(272 words)

Fix the forums (make a list of 5 reasons to thank a member of the Scratch Team): I sent it to Harakou :]

Misc. posts in the bulletin board room (go to the profile of a random person in my cabin and create a character taking inspiration from their about me, then add the new character to the story for 10 minutes):

New character information: Sylvie Delanes is a wise middle-aged witch who uses she/they pronouns. She’s an avid reader, and has also written some books on the knowledge of magic. She resides in a northern part of the Great Forest, the forest that covers most of the magic world.
(46 words)

Weekly continued:
Jordan had no idea what to do. They walked back down the trail, hoping to find the portal. Maybe they could get some help by asking their friends and magic teacher. But the portal was gone and the trail ended abruptly. They sat with their back against a tree (who apparently didn’t mind), and waited until sunrise, staring at the stars.
“Hello there,” said a voice, right when the pink of dawn became visible over the treetops. Jordan jumped, and stood up. They heard some sort of chatter—some birds or animals, they guessed. Definitely not the person who had spoken.
“Who—who’re you?” they asked the woman dressed in green robes who was standing there.
“The name’s Sylvie Delanes, she/they. I’m known as the wise witch of the north. You seem new here?” Sylvie asked, tucking a strand of violet hair behind her ear.
“Um, yeah, I just arrived here in the middle of the night,” Jordan replied.
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Selvyn was at it again, I’m guessing.”
“What?” they asked, confused.
“I mean the great big tree. You went to see a big tree separate from the rest of the forest, right?”
“Yeah.”
“His name’s Selvyn. Been there a few thousands of years. He likes to randomly transport people here in the middle of the night, I have no idea why.”
“Ohhh, I see. Wait, do all the trees here have a name?” Jordan asked curiously.
“I think so. I haven’t talked to them all, but I’m guessing they do.”
“What—all the trees here can talk?!”
“Of course we do, kid! Haven’t you heard us snoring all night?” said the tree that Jordan had been sitting against earlier. They suddenly realized that the chatter they heard at sunrise was not from birds or other animals, but from the trees.
(301 words)

Fix the lights (relax and do nothing or take a nap for fifteen minutes): I did nothing.

Designing room of the Postscript magazine in the basement (write 250 words of my character realizing that true beauty is found inside of oneself):
“Huh.” Jordan thought about the trees—how some may look beautiful and others less so—and thought that if they could talk, they’d be like a person or animal, right? They’d have their own personality and all. They’d be their own person, really.
“Inner beauty is important,” said Sylvie, smiling.
“What? How do you know what I was thinking about?” Jordan turned to Sylvie with an expression of surprise.
She winked, and said, “It’s easy to guess with newcomers. Also, it’s written right over your face.”
Jordan blushed a little. They were known to be bad at hiding emotions.
“Why don’t you come to my home? I can help you figure out your foretelling. Also, I have a book that I wrote about the inner beauty of the magical world. I’m not sure if you like reading or not, but since you were thinking about it, maybe you’d like to read it?” Sylvie’s sparkling eyes gleamed with kindness as they smiled again.
“My…foretelling? Oh—do you mean that poem that the tree recited?” Jordan asked, and Sylvie responded with a nod. Then Jordan continued, “And yeah, sure. That book seems interesting too.”
——
Sylvie’s home was only a short walk away. While they walked there, Sylvie told Jordan all about the magical world and how it was connected to the regular world.
Soon enough, they arrived at Sylvie’s cottage home. It was located on the grass behind the sandy shores of a glistening lake. Around the lake, towering mountains could be seen, protecting the lake like an infant.
“Welcome to my home,” Sylvie said, opening the door. Inside, there was a small kitchen area, with a fire pit with a large cauldron over top of it separating the kitchen from the comfy chairs and bookshelves. A stairway against the far wall led up to a second level, where the bedrooms and storage space were located, said Sylvie.
“This is a nice home,” said Jordan, settling in on one of the chairs.
“Thanks.” Sylvie smiled. “Would you like some tea? It’s not something you’d be used to, but it tastes a little like…mango, I think.”
“A tea that tastes like mango?” Jordan asked with a look of curiosity. “Yes, please! That’s my favourite fruit!”
“Alright, I’ll put the cauldron on.” Sylvie chuckled. With a flick of their wrist, a fire appeared below the cauldron. She then used a different spell to remove the cauldron from the flames, shrunk it, and replaced it over the fire. Then they magically filled the cauldron with water, and summoned a jar of what looked like crushed leaves and two cups from a cupboard. She then remembered that Jordan wanted to read the book about inner beauty, so she used another summoning spell to retrieve the book and place it in Jordan’s lap. “There you go, you can start reading while we wait for the cauldron to boil. Though, it doesn’t take that long. You can just read for a bit, is what I mean,” Sylvie added.
(497 words)

Ending (write 500 words to end it, leaving it on a cliffhanger):
After Jordan had read through the prologue and the first chapter, they took a long sip of their mango-like tea. It was really good, in fact. Not exactly like mango—alas, it wasn’t mango—but it sure did taste similar.
“Do you want to keep reading or do you want to tell me your foretelling?” Sylvie asked, then took a sip of tea.
“We can talk about my foretelling, I guess. I’m not too interested in reading this book, sorry,” Jordan apologized.
“It’s alright. It’s one of my less popular books, but it is quite important to realize,” said Sylvie. “And I think you do understand the importance of inner beauty.”
“Okay, thanks…?” Jordan was unsure if that was a compliment or not. “About my foretelling, for some reason I remember it word for word. Is that supposed to happen or do I just have a good memory for once?”
“It’s supposed to happen. That’s one of the effects of Selvyn reciting poetry to you. You remember it word for word forever.” Sylvie shuddered at what seemed to be a bad memory. “Never, ever, let Selvyn come up with poetry on the spot. It’s horrible. The only good poetry is the foretellings, which are known for a while and aged like cheese.”
“Oh.” Jordan made a mental note not to hang around that big tree unless it was absolutely necessary. “Anyway, my foretelling went like this: ‘You will head to the dangers of Feev / Traverse a bridge sunburned / Then you will bear the weight of crikine / If you wish your parents returned.’ First of all, what the heck is Feev? And cri—“crikin”? Or is it pronounced cry-keen?”
“It’s pronounced crih-keen. And Feev…you do not want to know what that is. But I’m afraid you’ll have to know.” Sylvie breathed out a sigh.
“What is it?”
“This…is one of the most difficult foretellings that I’ve ever heard. Which means that you’re unlucky, typically. You’ll have to face the greatest dangers in this world. And the only way that you’ll be able to do that, is not only learning more magic from me, but also learning from someone else. Who I don’t like. I mean, I like her, but we…have an interesting history.” Sylvie appeared to be blushing a little.
Jordan thought nothing of Sylvie’s blushing, and asked, “So, this foretelling is telling me of some sort of adventure I have to go on?”
“Yeah, they all are adventures. But you have to train with me first. And then that other person I was talking about. However, first, let’s unriddle the poem one line at a time. So, the first line: ‘You will head to the dangers of Feev’. I don’t want to have to tell you what Feev is, but you have to know.”
“What is it?” Jordan was curious.
“Feev is the land in the south. It’s not the most pleasant place here. There’s a race of trolls who live there and they aren’t nice. The ‘dangers of Feev’ could mean the trolls, but could also mean something else. And it probably does.”
“Feev doesn’t sound so bad. Why would you not want me to know that?”
“Feev isn’t just the name of the land. It’s also the name of something else—the same something else that I was saying. There’s an old legend about how the land was named Feev. It starts with a witch who had gone mad. In a bad way. He was the greatest witch of his era. But that doesn’t mean he was good. He had been succumbed by greed to achieve fame. He was infamous, so he got what he wanted, I guess. But anyway, one day he wanted to claim the Sword of Mysteries—the most powerful magic weapon. Except that it was in an unknown location, and that witch didn’t know at the time that he needed to conquer his greatest fear to get it. Even if he knew exactly where it was, he couldn’t just take it. So, he found an ancient scroll with a weird map on it. He took a coven of witches—who were basically his followers—and set off to find it. Eventually, he discovered the location of the sword. He grabbed the sword, but instantly, he got trapped in a horrible vision. That was the magic that protected the sword. The vision is said to be your greatest fear, and if you manage to survive the vision, you’re granted the ability to wield the sword. The vision made him jump into a canyon and he perished. Though, it’s said that his soul haunts the location of the sword and forces the trespasser to reveal their greatest weakness. Oh, and the witches that accompanied him also perished. They didn’t know how to get back home because the map was with the greedy witch so it was lost in that canyon.”
Sylvie stopped there. She sipped her now-cold tea as they stared absentmindedly at the fire.
“What has Feev got to do with that?” Jordan asked.
“Feev…was the name of that witch. The trolls who live there worship him. That’s why the land is called Feev. It’s named after their god. The trolls don’t just worship him, they also protect the land from anyone trying to get the sword. However, they don’t even know where the sword is. They’ve looked everywhere, but still haven’t found the secret location.”
“So…is the foretelling saying that I need to find the sword?” asked Jordan.
“I think so,” Sylvie replied. “I’m pretty sure I’m right, so that means we have to start your training now. And…” They sighed. “I’m gonna have to contact my—um, I mean, that witch who I was talking about that you also needed training from. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, because last time she talked to me, she told me to never talk to her ever again, or else she’ll murder me. But I have to talk to her. Because Selvyn brought you here. Now, let’s get started with your training.”
(1001 words)

Total weekly word count (excluding the character information paragraph): 3834 (3880 including that paragraph)

Submission code: PATHS TAKEN: 6-3, 9-1, 5-3, 7-4, 82-1, 2-2, 1-5, 4-3, 3-2, 101-2 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 6- F, 4- S;2- S;3- F, 9- F, 7- S;8- S;5- S;1- S | ENDING: neutral

Completion certificate: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/718240512/

Thank you notes <3 (forum version)

Intro:
Hey there! This SWC session was a blast! I got to meet a bunch of new people in the epic Fantasy Cabin that I was sorted into, and reconnect with former cabinmates. I’d like to thank people with whom I have chatted and been chaotic with this session in this thank you project. <33 Many apologies ahead of time if I forgot you!! (As a heads up, there’s a general thank you page close to the end so you might be listed there if you don’t find yourself on a slide.) Lastly, a list of everybody mentioned in this project is in the description so you can easily go follow them because they’re all cooler than me.

Fantasy Cabin:
Ahhh my fellow Fantasy-ers!! <333 You’re all really awesome, and we are for sure gonna win the writing comp! > Thank you so much to the (co)leaders Cae, Rea and Juli for making Fantasy a unique, definitely-not-a-whole-TOH-reference cabin lol. <33 And, of course, the wonderful honorary Lisa for the amazing matching pfps! :>

Cae:
We haven’t talked much, but you’re an awesome cabin leader, keeping us together. Hopefully we’ll cross paths in SWC in the future!! <3

Rea:
I think you’re the (co)leader that I’ve talked to the most xDD But anyway, you’re an awesome co and you’re right, I’m definitely the spy lol >:3 (for anyone who’s not in Fantasy and is reading this, the memory book does say that Rea’s most likely to be the king’s spy but that’s just to throw people off) Maybe we’ll be in the same cabin again!! Also thanks for the bio/wiwo lol.

Juli:
I don’t think we talked much either, but you kept the word count studio pretty much up to date! You’re very kind and thanks for helping me when I had questions!

Lisa:
Thank you for the awesome matching pfps!! Your art is really good!! :3 I hope you’re feeling much better now <33

Twi:
I’m happy we met this session You’re definitely the cabin’s cheerleader lol. You keep motivating the cabin, from cabin wars to the weeklies! Thanks for the help on the last weekly <33 I hope to get to know you better in the future! :>

Wari:
We first met in March, I think, in Fan-Fi, and now you’re leading Fan-Fi this session! I absolutely love your Clone Wars fanfic!!! (which more people should definitely read) And yes I know I already told you that but still- Your writing comp entry was great (I mean the excerpt I read but I’m sure the rest is also great!) and thanks for letting me critique it! <3

Stingray:
We did nothing SWC-related this session because you weren’t active for probably almost half the session and you weren’t participating anyway, but thanks for letting me include you in my dailies!! And thank you sooo much for telling me about all those obscure Queen facts!!! (even if they came from pin and were most likely not accurate) Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to write some of my dailies lol. Sorry I’m getting off topic xDD This is supposed to be an SWC thank you note, right. Though I /am/ thanking you for those things. Anyway, I hope that we’re in the same cabin in November!! Actually, we must be in the same cabin. We’ve gone three sessions (well only two because this one you didn’t do) and we haven’t been in the same cabin >

General thank you:
Thank you to my other friends who were in different cabins but we still talked (only a little, but that’s besides the point) :] Namely, Socky (according to autocorrect) the Sock Who Has Eyes And Watches Rebels, The Moon Aka An Inside Joke With Socky, Rebels Fanatic Who’s Not A Sock Unlike Her Sock Friend, and the one and only Master Rani of the Sushi >:3 (Can you guess who they are? Okay Master Rani of the Sushi is the easiest, since both her nicknames are in the name, but I mean other than that. And sorry if you don’t like your nickname I just made up for you.) Thank you as well to the hosts, cohosts, gHosts, leaders, coleaders, honoraries, the daily team, and everyone else who’ve contributed to SWC, past and present. Thanks for making such a fun experience for me and so many others.

Outro/conclusion:
I’m sad that this session is over, but I can’t wait for the memory book/results to see how Fantasy climbed up the rankings last minute!!! >:3 Thank you again to everyone for such an amazing session <333

(744 words, excluding emoticons)