Daily #15 1/14/23
word count: 174
points: 200

Something I love doing in my free time is crocheting and reading. Today I’m working on a crochet phoenix pattern as a gift for my piano teacher’s friend as they love phoenixes. I found a great pattern online, for free, so I’m quite happy about that. Crocheting is so addicting and helps relieve my stress so much. Lol, my cousin likes calling me, “Old lady,” whenever she sees me crocheting because all her books show knitters as old ladies and she thinks crocheting is the same as knitting (it’s not!). I was able to finish till Row 9 in the pattern, I’m planning on working on more after finishing this journal entry. I’m at my dad’s mother’s home right now so it’s really dark, kind of hard to crochet in a dark environment. There’s only two lamps in the room and no ceiling light (seriously, what were the architects thinking?!) Anyways, I’m probably just going to crochet for some while, and keep browsing scratch lol-, then take a shower and go to bed.

-Pinky

say [Astro's Hangout]

Hallo! This is where I will post for my weeklies!

Weekly 2

Part 1 -
Name: Collie Collera

Age: 15

Date of Birth: June 4 (I can’t really choose a year because she is a immortal (will never age) 15-year-old)

Characteristics: Collie has strong passion and determination for things she actually likes, and always tries to do more. She was born a quiet child who liked to be alone but as she grew up, she started reaching out to people and is now very social, though she still likes some alone time. She is extremely observant and can remember small things and details. She is an explorer, and loves to go to new places.

Flaws: Collie is an almost perfect character, except when she is in her alone time, or when she is focusing on something. Those times she can burst up in anger or get irritated quickly.

Strengths: She can focus on something for long periods of time. She is very confident in what she thinks and is always positive.

Looks: Collie is a beautiful girl, with medium dark black curls, blue eyes, and light peach skin. She likes wearing clothes of similar colors, and loves jeans.

Story: Ever since she was born, Collie had always loved insects. From the early age of four, she would be finding, observing, and drawing insects. By the time she was 10, she had found and drawn almost all the insects of her state. Since she had to go to other places to find more, she took a little break from insect hunting and decided to socialize with more people, and soon she became the favorite, friendly, and famous popular girl of her school. When she was 15, she still loved insects, but she wasn’t as obsessed as before. But one day, she finds a new insect never found before and names it ‘Collie Cockroach’. And from the day she found it, she decided to take up her insect finding habit again. She soon becomes a famous young entomologist.

Extra: She loves reading about mythical creatures and wants to meet a griffin one day. She also likes to sing in the school choir.
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Part - 2

Since I wasn't able to put the image, it's here

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Part - 3

I think that arcs are very important for writers, for visualization. If you want to have a good, spread out view of your character, an arc is the best thing to do. It helps a person write down all the events of a character’s story, and helps them order it, and mind-map it. Arcs are also great ways to emphasize big events and know the smaller events, so it is easier to write it. It also helps to make the beginning, middle and end clearer for the writer. An arc is basically a bridge. It takes your character’s starting events as the first steps, brings your character to the center and finishes the journey at the end. And it’s really helpful for people who are muddled up with the events of their character and need to organize them. It also helps in understanding and realizing the changes in their character. First, my character Collie started off as an introverted, shy kid who loved insects. She slowly progressed and became a popular teen and a young entomologist, and quite famous in her area. My arc helped me understand how she evolved (even though the one I’ve put in scratch is simple, I’ve made my own complicated one) with such differences in her character, but still stayed the same in some ways. It’s so simple to just take a piece of paper, write the events of your character, and get a wonderful, organized arc. It can be really stressful, changing the life of your character midway. It took a lot of small details to change Collie, because she was a really big introvert when she was a child, and I had to think a lot to change her personality. All writers have struggles in character development, especially if it’s a really large change! And making arcs really helps in facing it and making it smooth. When I think of an arc, it just runs through my mind - about Collie, who she is, what she did, what happened to her in the middle - it’s like a movie. Even some of the world’s most important characters like Harry Potter started out like this.
J.K Rowling had to order his life and his personality, before starting to write. And so, arcs are a very important factor in writing and development of character. They are bridges of support to a wonderful and neatly planned character, and I really recommend them.
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Weekly 3

Part 1

(writing of @Iris_Galaxy over here -https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/767433262/)
First of all, this is a really good start and I really am excited to read the second part! And how Sell described the forest was a good description!

The first thing I saw in the writing, “A Very Long Road”, was that the author had used unique and different names for her characters instead of the usual ones. Malachi and Sell are names I have never seen in any story.
The small and mysterious details that the readers can't understand why they are there are intriguing, but it would have been nice to write a little bit more about the golden bridge. I would have loved to read about it! I feel like saying a little bit about the travel would have made it a bit more interesting.
I just want to add one thing - the second page where Sell described the forest was amazing, but I felt that the other parts of the story weren't as descriptive and didn't have the same selection of words.
But this is still amazing! I hope you make a sequel.

Daily #15
321 words, I got into it, didn't I?

I practiced my taekwondo techniques, starting from hand technique to sparring! I focused on my kicking, specifically back kick, because I have to do that kick for breaking board later on, when I practice that in-class. Ah, it's so hard to practice when you're on the 3rd floor in an apartment. Anyways, I mostly needed to work on my breaking board and overcome my fear on that, because it's easy– a one time thing, although many easily mess up as fear overtakes them. I'm doing pretty well in my form, but when you think of taekwondo, fighting is what you're thinking of. Or any form of martial art, you think of fighting, (sparring, the actual term) and self defense, which I do go over with the master from time to time, but we actually do something called sparring. Well, sparring is civilized fighting, a sport, where you can earn points from, depending on where you hit the body. Once in a while we do self-defense, as I mentioned, and weapon handling in class as well. You have to be quick-witted and fast-thinking, and self-defense helps with your reflex. Aside from taekwondo, I also sang a bit! I sang “Music of Life” by B.E Boykin, and Alexander's Ragtime Band by Irving Berlin, which I'll have to sing in my chorus performance way in the spring, but I enjoy the tune. I signed up for the All-State Choir and next week I'm recording my audition. I performed in an All-County Chorus performance about maybe 2 months ago? Singing helps me get it all out, peacefully and it sounds appealing too. I have many hobbies, which include learning French & Arabic, reading, and playing the piano. I haven't done that in a while, though. But today, I mainly focused on taekwondo, because I just had my belt test. Yellow belt green stripe now, but some schools don't do stripes and only do all-color belts.

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Weeky #2 - Character Arcs

Words: 1,428
Points: 1,500

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Part One: Gathering Ideas
(I went a bit overboard with the backstory)

Character name: Cove Hansley (female, she/her pronouns).
Age: Fourteen years old.
Appearance: Small and mousy, curly auburn hair, freckles, seafoam-colored eyes. She feels self-conscious about wearing anything too fancy due to being told for years that she didn’t deserve nice clothing, and she often wears a sweater and an old skirt.
Personality: Caring, timid, conscientious, attentive to small details, imaginative.
Flaws: Not trusting in herself, being extremely wary of other people.
Strengths: Her vivid imagination, her kind heart.
Likes/dislikes: Cove loves animals, and her best friend is her pet sparrow. She is also a very talented seamstress and loves creating embroidery pieces. Her most prized possession is an old, worn stuffed bear given to her by her parents when she was a baby. Her favorite room in every large house is the library. She absolutely hates mince pies, and associates them with unpleasant memories from her past.
Backstory: Cove was born in a small, rickety townhouse in London with her middle-class parents; her mother worked at a local theater, and her father was a salesman. After both of Cove’s parents passed away in a tragic carriage accident when she was about three years old, her neighbor, an elderly seamstress who Cove knew as “Mrs. Buttons”, took little Cove under her wing and cared for her for a few years. But a few years later, when Mrs Buttons became too elderly and ill to continue to take care of her, six-year-old Cove was sent away to the biggest, most elegant mansion in the city, belonging to the highly esteemed Lord Darlington, to work as a servant. Cove entered the mansion full of good thoughts and intentions - the house was big, there was a wonderful library, and it would be an adventure! But her expectations were soon crushed by the reality, which was a harsh transition from her pleasant life. The head kitchen maid was kind to Cove, but not very supportive of any ambitious dreams of a better life and constantly reminded the servants and maids that they might as well “just give in to life’s lot”. Being the youngest worker in the household, Cove was very isolated from the rest of them and grew up learning to care for herself. Many of the servants were unkind to her and to each other, Lord and Lady Darlington were extremely rude and never acknowledged the work of their hired hands, and Darlington Manor was just a dreary place to live in general. The head housekeeper often beat the young workers and yelled at them, telling them they didn’t deserve anything more than the dark, dank attic they slept in, the old, smelly clothes they were forced to wear for days at a time, and the thin gray sheet they each had to sleep on. Cove began to believe, like most in that household, that she was useless and undeserving, and her innocent, childlike trust was washed away with doubts of every person she met. She clung tightly to the things she loved: sneaking into her attic corner to embroider with some bits of colorful thread she’d snuck from the seamstress maid’s basket, cuddling her worn, patched, stuffed bear at night, sneaking downstairs to walk around the manor’s elaborate library, and feeding crumbs to the small sparrow that cheerfully twittered at her as it popped in and out of the attic through a hole in the wall.
That was how Cove spent many years of her life. She was sure she would never have any grand experiences in life, and she was bound to work at Darlington Manor until she was much older. But then one day, when she was thirteen years old, an elegant, middle-aged gentleman who introduced himself as Sir Harry Ambrose knocked on the door of the manor and demanded that “the girl sent here from Mrs. Button’s” was now his ward, and was to come home with him that very day. Scared and very wary of this gentleman, but having no better choice, Cove bundled her few possessions into a patchwork sack, made sure the little sparrow she’d named “Chestnut” was perched on her shoulder, and followed him through the streets to his home.
Now fourteen years old, Cove had been living with Sir Ambrose for nearly a year. He was a kind, quirky, and charismatic man, whose home was charming and happy, and had the most gloriously large library. His wife, Harriet Lou, had wanted a child her whole life, and was very kind to Cove. Their nineteen-year-old niece Annalise, who lived with them, was a beautiful young lady who was absolutely delighted at having a “little sister”. Annalise worked as an actress at the theater Cove’s mother used to work at, and Sir Ambrose, who insisted Cove call “Uncle Harry”, often took her to see shows there.
Cove enjoyed living there, but after so many years of being told she was useless, she struggled with self-doubt. She refused to wear the elegant gowns Annalise offered to her, saying she “didn’t deserve them”, and wouldn’t enter her embroidery in the local quilt-making competition no matter how many times her handiwork was complimented, saying she “wasn’t good enough”. She would blush and squirm whenever someone praised her. Cove also struggled with trusting her new family. In her heart she wanted to love them, to run into her arms at the end of the day, and to feel carefree with them. But after being tossed around like a hot potato for most of her life, she couldn’t bring herself to feel comfortable.

Part Two: Visualizing the Arc
(found here)

Part Three: Planning the Message

As a pantser writer, I don’t often take the time to think through the layout of how a character or story will develop, so this was a very fun and thought-provoking challenge for me! I wasn’t intending to actually write out this story, but I feel so inspired by this character that I think I’ll continue to write about her.
It’s kind of nice to have a bit of an outline of how the story will progress, through the character, and I might continue to use character arcs in future stories to help plan out the basics. Planning out a specific character like this is sort of like having a written safety net to rely on - now that I know how Cove will develop and progress, all I have to do is write out how her development comes about. I think these changes are definitely important and necessary for my character - she feels insecure and wary of many things, like a lot of people probably feel, and she learns, with the encouragement of a loving family, how to believe in herself. I’m not sure that this story really has one obvious moral, since it’s currently unfinished - but it would probably be something about learning to trust yourself, and leaning in to what you love and what you know in your heart.
What does the arc mean for this story? Well, this whole story kind of revolves around the idea of character development. Instead of writing a story where the character developed along with the story, the story sort of is the character developing. Instead of the story moving the character development, the character development moves the story. Did that make any sense? Probably not, but it did in my head. Words can be hard.
Cove is sort of a character whose identity and actions are being affected by what has happened to her through the actions of other people - some well meaning, some not. Cove at her core is a happy, ambitious, dreamy, imaginative person. But as putting too much hopeful trust in people proved her wrong again and again, she decided she never wanted to feel that crushing disappointment again, and stubbornly decided to expect the worst out of everything. The journey of her personality and values is due to the experiences she’s had, and not because of choices she got to make and think over. As many things are, it’s hard to restore something to its previous state once in a worse place.

part 1

Name: Laura Greens

Age: 15

Characteristics: Laura is always kind to others and she loves reading. She loves learning but has to learn about the world around her and how to survive. Laura is quick-witted and thinks fast in difficult situations. She is pretty calm and does not panic very often.

Flaws: Overthinks too much, and is very negative. She also steals and doesn't work hard. It's like she gave up on herself, as nobody is going to help her. She gets beaten by the drunk in the city but she has no other choice.

Strengths: She is very talented if she tries, and she is physically appealing to others. Laura puts others before her, always, because she knows they have a better feature than her. She tries to organize her life but does not care about her physical appearance.

Looks: Laura has pale skin and chestnut eyes. Her hair is a long straight, knotted mess that shines in the sunlight. She wears a special locket from her mother. Her clothes are covered in filth and she walks barefoot, which she cannot fix. But, she has a beautiful face shape and if she wore better clothing she would be very attractive. She would have a perfect life if she tried to.

Backstory: Laura is an orphan that sleeps on the streets and gets targeted by gangs, beaten by , and other negative things. Her mother gave her a locket with her real name on it, but her identity is Laura. Her father died early on from lung cancer while Laura's mom was pregnant, leaving her mom alone. Laura's mom died while birthing her daughter, so the nurse had no choice but to put her in an orphanage. The orphanage kicked her out at 5 years and left Laura stuck on the streets, her only source of food was stealing.

part 2

https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/788325782/

Weekly #2
Part One:
(this is a character I’ve been working on, though I changed her name here because this is a different version I’m experimenting with)

Name: Leyna Neirfell
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Personality: Leyna is very composed. She often keeps herself bottled up and her emotions and past are known by hardly anyone. She’s not cruel, per say, but she is very certain about what she wants and will do anything to get it. She seems to have no morals, but she actually does- her religious views guide her frequently, and she typically avoids paths with extensive suffering unless there’s no other option. Leyna’s very calculated, good at determining odds and getting what she wants through blackmailing. Her personality is quite sharp, not sharing more than she needs to and speaking occasionally in riddles. She’s sharp-witted and is good at finding the right words. Because she bottles things up, it often appears as though she doesn’t care about much, however she just doesn’t know how to express her feelings- looking weak is something she despises.
Looks: Tall and broad-shouldered, but lean and fit, with hair so blonde it’s nearly white. Her eyes are dagger-sharp and dark olive green, and her features are all angular. She’s dressed typically in fairly normal clothes, dark pants and shirt with a leather jacket and combat boots, and her hair tied back in a high ponytail. She often has a dark wood-hilted dagger at her hip, and another small one slipped in a sleeve pocket. A strange black tattoo that she was born with is located on her left shoulder, and her right knee is scarred badly, as well as her right forearm.
Worldview: She believes the world is divided by beliefs rather than good/evil or light/dark; everyone is a hazy shade of grey. She doesn’t trust easily, especially to people from other social classes or regions of the kingdom. She’s quick to believe that everyone’s against her, and prefers working alone since everyone’s likely to betray her in the end.
Strengths: Working independently, blackmailing, making plans and seeing them through, her cleverness and intelligence of the kingdoms, fighting with a dagger (or multiple), street smarts
Flaws: doesn’t trust anyone, doesn’t work well with others, not reckless but sometimes makes very risky plans, wants vengeance to anyone who’s wronged her
Motive: personal gain, survival, though if there’s enough money involved, that does help

Part Two:
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/788609812/

Part Three:

I think character arcs really make a story unique and special. Dynamic characters, I think, are naturally easier to connect with, since events in their life typically lead to their internal conflicts and personalities. Combined with a change in their personality/worldview/etc, I think it really brings the story to life. People don’t just stay the same; every major and minor incident has an affect on them, even if it’s an insignificant one. Character arcs make the story feel more real, like they’re true human beings rather than a figment of inked letters and imagination. Overall, it makes things more interesting, as the reader gets to grow and learn alongside the characters, and it makes the whole plot more immersive.

Specifically relating to my character, I think the lessons Leyna learns are very important in her world, as well as ours. Starting as a skeptical girl, working only by herself and not trusting anyone else, she’s not necessarily struggling, but it’s evident that she’s wearing herself down- both physically and mentally. Once she’s in the Dawning, however, she’s forced to work with others, even people she instantly doesn’t trust. This is a big step for her normally reserved character, and it already lines up the change that’s going to happen with her. Leyna makes do, but her body language and dialogue change to something very restrained and tense. Finally, toward the middle, she has to put faith in the rest of them, and eventually learns that not all conflict is black and white. This arc of internal trust issues is very important, and close to me personally.

There are many independent people in this world, and this story isn’t meant to be a signal that this can’t define them anymore, but I do think it’s important for everyone to have a person or a few people they feel comfortable confiding in. Someone who you don’t feel as though you need to bottle yourself up around. Sometimes this is a friend, sometimes it’s a family member, or perhaps a teacher, counselor, therapist, or other trusted adult, but no matter who, you need to know there’s someone there for you. Keeping things locked away, including emotions, opinions, and personal struggles can quickly become emotionally taxing and leaving you feeling empty and lonely, much like Leyna was (though she tried hard not to admit it). Being able to express what you want to say, share your thoughts and emotions, and really just be yourself is super important, even if you only do it with a few certain people. Once Leyna realizes that expression isn’t weakness, you can see how much her character develops in confidence, strength, and mental willpower, and I think it’s very important that everyone has a way to do this.

Daily #16 1/15/23
word count: 679
points: 605

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. I hurried along the road drenched in rain. My clothes hung down and dragged behind me. The weather was humid and my brown curls had turned frizzier than ever.I didn’t care though, I’d heard news that the criminal, who stole the irreplaceable diary of Riary Peori, was somewhere in the Yarrow Auction today. As I neared the auction hall I could see the lines of people waiting, the line stretched at least a kilometer long, at this pace I would be waiting till late afternoon. I needed to get in there immediately, my sources told me that the criminal was already in there waiting to trade the notebook with someone else. I had to take my chance and retrieve it before it gets switched. Next to the line of people I saw a small closet door, I stepped closer to realize that it was a janitor’s closet, all I had to do was get in there. Luckily for me, around ten minutes later a janitor rushed by me heading straight for the door. They were most likely late for work, I raced after them and stuck a hairpin right in the doorway before it closed.
My eyes darted around to see if anyone was looking, everyone was turned in the way of some famous couple that had arrived at the auction. Great, I dashed into the door and saw that it was just a hallway leading to another door. I opened the door and saw that it had led me into the auction room. Looking around I observed my surroundings. Exit blocked by bodyguards and several, probably rich people hanging around and drinking drinks. I grabbed a drink to blend in from a passing server. I had to start looking for my suspect immediately. The auction was about to start in 10 minutes. The description I had gotten from my sources was a bald man, scar above eyebrow, blue eyes, grey dress suit and holding a black briefcase. Nearly every single man here was wearing a grey suit, how was I ever going to find my criminal? Just as I thought that fate must have heard my annoyance, a man, fitting the description, dashed past me, spilling my drink all over my already drenched coat. He was definitely in a hurry, I conspicuously trailed after him following him to some wing of the building that served as the common room. A woman in a black cat suit stood there waiting for him. Her hair was tied back in a tight bun and she was glaring at the man.
In a crisp French accent she asked him, “I thought I told you to be on time. You are ten minutes late.” The man bowed his head and mumbled a quick apology. She stalked closer to him, “Do you have it? My boss is counting on this for all the pieces to connect together,” He shoved the briefcase into the woman’s arms. She smirked slowly and agonizingly, clicking the briefcase open. Her smug expression immediately left her face as it turned into a threatening expression full of hate. “WHERE IS IT? DID YOU DECIDE TO DECEIVE MY BOSS? NO ONE EVER DISOBEYS MY BOSS!” she shrieked.
“I don’t know where it is! It was just in here, I swear!”She waved her hand and out of nowhere five big bodyguard brutes appeared restraining the man. I decided to trail after the man because the only way I would know where to find the notebook was if I got the info from the man, but before I could jump out of the shadows and continue trailing the man, a cold hand reached from behind and clamped my mouth shut. It was one of the brutes.
He yelled to the lady and he dragged my restraining body into view, “Look what I found m’lady, it seems like there’s a worm among us,” he glanced meaningfully at me, no pity in his eyes instead a dancing excitement, “You know what we do with worms, we get rid of them.”

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random sidenote (not included in word count):
For once I didn't use google to find a character name. I actually ‘slammed’, not really my keyboard and got random letters to make the name Riary Peori xDD

Daily #16
469 words


The bells jingle on the door, a welcoming entrance to the cafe. A young man greets me at the door and shows me to my seat. I sit down as I unfold the newspaper. 5 were found dead on Aster Street, a place not so far from the cafe. I shiver. “Ah, looking at the newspaper, miss?” The young man asks. “Indeed. Poor souls, and we still don't know the cause,” I reply. “Yes, perhaps you shouldn't read such brutal things at this age,” The young man says, taking away the newspaper. His tone was flat, showing no concern at all. Did he underestimate me? And so quick! I was short, yes, with chubby cheeks and short curly hair that, I admit, looked sincerely naive. I knew I could beat him down in an instant. Who was he to condescend me so easily? Interrupting my thoughts, the barista says, “Apologies for interfering, what is your order ma'am?” I quickly responded with, “A cup of coffee. Surprise me,” Then quickly add, “Thank you, sir.” He nods and rushes off, making my order as I dart my eyes toward a girl; slightly older than me, drinking an iced tea; the color slightly off-putting, although I scold myself for thinking so much. She pales fast, throwing the cup away and waving good-bye to the barista. He smiles, not waving back. I raise an eyebrow, and leave my drink. “Tip is on the table!” I exclaim. “No, my lady, please have a cup of coffee. You look so fatigued, dear. This will help you surely,” He says, completely ignoring the tip. “Oh, sir, if you insist.” I say, grabbing the cup. I rush out, this time the bells shouting at me to leave. As I walk towards my apartment, a bird ca-caws and swoops down, knocking down my coffee. I curse at the sky. Then, I spot the girl. Her hand clenching her stomach, her face slightly purple. “Miss! Are you okay?” I run towards her, hold her hand, and carry her on my back. She's quite light; I could easily carry her to the hospital. She's also eerily quiet, the only sounds from her is the occasional gasp or cry of pain. Suddenly, her eyes close, and she goes limp. Her body slides down my back. I notice a street sign that says, “Aster Street”. My hands shake wildly. Oh, it's just a coincidence, I tell myself. Don't be so afraid. I thought you just said you shouldn't be underestimated. Here you are, panicking. Why can't you– BANG. Before I complete my sentence, a searing pain goes through me. I fall to the ground, and before my vision blackens, I spot the barista, holding my cup of coffee in one hand, a rifle in the other. I gasp before knocking out completely.

Daily for 16th

write 400 words in your cabin's theme.

Today was not a good day for Lawrence Park.

On 16th January 2023, Lawrence Park has been finally caught and arrested for multiple robberies and a few ransom cases. He has still not admitted anything about his accomplice, whose last name has been identified as Herbert, but is not a good enough lead for the cops.

One of his most infamous robberies is the theft of the main bank of Australia, the Reserve bank of Australia (RBA) Not only millions were stolen, but the money was equally divided and taken from every account in the bank. I don't think I'm supposed to say anything about this, but golly that's kind of impressive.

Another case is when he took the daughter, Dianna Rosemary, of one of our prestigious landowners, Sir. Toby Rosemary. He asked for two million dollars, and when he was not given it at the specific time mentioned, he not only took the daughter, Fida Rupert, of another land owner Sir. Shaun Rupert, he also took Sir. Rosemary's second child, Joe Rosemary, his son.

This time he charged for 3 million dollars, 1 million from Sir. Rupert's side and 2 million from Sir. Rosemary's side. The fiasco created immense chaos but Mr. Park immediately got his money in the next hour. The news reporters were all over it.

Talking about News Reporters, have you heard about the one gone rogue?

Gary Yang, the Chinese reporter who had come just two months ago, had exploited the trust of the citizens. The news committee was hesitant to appoint him, due to his slight criminal background, but did so anyway.

Two months later he uses his news reporter advantages to break into someone's house in the dead of the night, claiming it was for news purposes ad the committee had put him up to it.

Of course, the committee denied everything, and Mr. Yang got arrested for the THIRD TIME, can you believe it?! I have no idea why his file says ‘slight’ criminal background. Not that I was stalking or anything.

But if you were to ask me, I think the new committee is still suspicious. Maybe they did tell him to go and do that research, under the safety that nobody would believe him due to his files and records.

He was pretty angry while getting arrested as if he had done nothing wrong and he was getting falsely accused.

And that's 400 words exactly people, stay tuned for tomorrow's daily tea time!!

(413 words)

Weekly 3
WIP
0/150, 0/400, 0/1,000

Part 1 - The Five Senses - ?/150

Part 2 - Using LIterary Devices - ?/400

Part 3 - Final Assignment - ?/1,000

January 16th Daily: Today is going to be fairly simple. Write 400 words in your cabin’s genre for 600 points! 5 extra points if you share your writing.

Word Count:600 Words

TW: Brief mentions of fire and d3ath

I ran around the fairground, screaming my friend’s name frantically. I had no idea where she had gone.
“Rowan!” I screamed, running through the hordes of laughing children and chatting parents; none of whom really seemed to notice my distress and I didn’t understand why. Why wasn’t anybody trying to help me? I thought that I was clearly distressed and in need of help but still, nobody that I passed ever tried to help me.
Finally I stopped running and bent over, breathing deeply and trying to catch my breath. I took a deep breath and tried to remember everything I could about the last time I saw Rowan, thinking maybe it would somehow help me to find her considering that nobody around me seemed to want to help me.
‘The last time I saw Rowan… The last time I saw Rowan…” I thought, closing my eyes to try and concentrate harder on the memory
‘The last time I saw Rowan was when we were getting on the carousel… We got on the carousel… Rowan sat a couple of rows behind me because it was full next to me… I heard her say “I’m so excited!” before the ride started… I never saw her after that… She didn’t get off the ride after or before me… At least to my knowledge.’
Really, there was nothing new that I could recall from the memory that would help me find out where Rowan might actually be. The only thing that I could think of was that she must have gotten off the ride before me; but why wouldn’t she wait for me? Why would she have just left me there; especially since we were at the fair alone…
‘Where could she be… Where would she go… Where would she possibly have gone..’ I thought, so extremely frustrated with myself and also with all the people around me. Why was everyone just ignoring me?? It was like none of them even saw me as I was running around screaming my friend's name in an attempt to find her. Finally done with the people around me, I ran up to a mother who was walking with her two young daughters
“Excuse me ma’am!” I exclaimed, running up to him “I’m looking for my friend and I can’t find her… I haven’t seen her since the-” Before I could finish the woman walked right past me without even looking at me. I was so confused. Without thinking I ran up to a couple more people, saying pretty much the same thing every time; and every time the person would look right past me like they didn’t even see me and just keep on walking towards their next ride or towards wherever they were going on the fairground.
Having regained my breath, I started to run back towards the carousel, hoping that maybe Rowan had made her way back there as well and maybe she could meet her there. When she made it to the carousel however, she was confused. The ride was engulfed in flames and people were being pushed back away from the ride. I ran over to the flames, confused as the police and firemen that were there didn’t even notice me and let me run all the way up to the burning ride. That’s when it all clicked. I knew why I wasn’t being pushed away from the wreck, I knew why nobody had heard me calling out for Rowan… I knew why none of the parents had noticed me when I tried to talk to them… I… Well, I was dead.

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Daily #16 - Cabin Genre: Sleuth

Words: 480
Points: 0 (I logged my points 30 seconds too late, I'm so mad at myself xD)

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“Ahhh…” I sighed contentedly as I sat down in my armchair and set my feet down on the ottoman. It had been a long day of untangling lies, catching thieves, and continuing my fruitless search for the most dreaded criminal in town, Lira Luck. “Another good day, Violet. Yet still no sign of Ms. Luck.” I said thoughtfully to my bunny. “Where do you think she could have gone?”
“Squeak!” replied Violet.
I nodded. “A valiant point.”
Taking out my worn, leather-bound journal I make a note of what I’d accomplished today. Even if no one saw me as a world-famous detective yet, they would one day. While all of the official-looking, middle-aged men with monocles attempted to solve the cases brought to them, I, Margaret Beauregarde, was doing the real work. No one suspected a small, slightly teenage girl in a purple sweater of being a detective, which made it all the more easy for me to sneak around and solve cases. I found my clients by scanning the “lost and found” column of all the most popular daily newspapers, then carried out my escapes. Undercover in plain sight, I was. That could be the name of my memoir…
“Ding-dong!”
I was startled as the doorbell of my townhouse rang. Not just the downstairs doorbell; I was used to hearing the landlady’s various visitors ring the bell multiple times a day; but my doorbell, right outside my door.
“C-come in?” I called hesitantly. (I of course didn’t stand up to greet whomever was at the door - I was quite occupied, with Violet being on my lap and all).
The door slowly opened, and a lady stepped in. She was very elegantly dressed, wearing a velvet red coat over her evening dress, and a fur draped around her shoulders. She had a tall, feathered hat upon her head and a worried expression on her face.
“Is this Miss Beauregarde?” she asked, squinting a little as she surveyed my messy living room, scattered with piles of paper and case notes.
“Yes, ma’am, it is she. May I help you?” I asked, gently lifting Violet off of my lap and standing up.
“I - I have an issue. Someone - I can’t seem to find someone.” The lady’s hands began to tremble as she spoke. “I heard that you’re a detective.”
“That I am.” I say with a small smile. How does this woman know about me?
“Come sit down ma’am, you look shaken.” I address her as I pull up another chair near the fireplace.
“I’m in such trouble, I don’t know what to do… I’ve already spoken to many detectives and inspectors around the town, but their so-called skills have helped me none. But then I heard one man mention your name… and I thought maybe you could help me."
It looks like the Margaret Beauregarde Detective Agency has its first client.

Daily #17 1/16/23
word count: 366
points: 400

Coming home from school Pinky was exhausted, it was already 4pm. 6th period history had been very boring even though her history teacher was one of the best teachers she's ever had. Putting her backpack next to her desk, Pinky opened her computer. Quickly checking her assignments she made sure she had finished all her homework for the day before starting to write. Opening a Google Doc Pinky stared blankly at the screen. What should I write about today? She pondered. Recently she’d been writing a lot of fantasy that took place in the medieval times. She’d gotten tired of writing that and she decided to switch to something else. Typing and deleting several times Pinky finally came up with a story inside her head. She wrote it down before she forgot and wandered off, taking a computer break and to go practice piano, before her parents reminded her. An hour later Pinky returned ready and refreshed to start writing. Once again she opened the Google Doc quickly typing and putting all her thoughts into the doc as her story started to come alive. It was then time for dinner, she had only finished the beginning of her story, she needed to cut down on the description. Pinky sighed, I’ll finish this after dinner. She headed downstairs as her parents called for her to come. After eating a quick ten minute dinner, Pinky ate very fast, Pinky once again dashed upstairs returning to her story, filled with magic and courage. An hour later, around eight Pinky had finished her story. She logged onto Scratch checking her mailbox, then opening a new project. She copied and pasted the story over from the doc and pasted it into the instructions section of her project. I hope people like it, she thought, excited to hear the feedback. Then she closed her computer, reading for the rest of the night before taking a shower and getting into bed. As she laid in bed wide awake she thought, That had me burned out, I think I won’t be writing a story for the rest of the week, I need to come up with better ideas. Then she drifted off into dreamland.

Daily 1/17
“What are your writing habits? Do you always write in the mornings? Or do you stay up late, listening to music as you write? Write about yourself as a writer, but do so from the third person omniscient. For example, “Anne stared at her computer screen, after finally sitting down to write.” You can use your Scratch nickname or make up one for yourself. 200 words for 300 points! An extra 100 points if you share your work!”

The moon was high, reaching a glowing hand through the window and into the girl’s bedroom. Trees rustled outside, leaves twirling with invisible dance partners to the wind’s whispered song. Stars blinked overhead, casting an ethereal glow over the dark sky, which had been painted the color of a midnight sea. It was late into the evening, at the time when only the birds and the moon were awake amongst the flickering of fireflies.

The birds, the moon, and a young girl sitting in an armchair.

There was something about the darkness that thrilled her, feeding the creativity blossoming in her soul. Words flowed freely under the guidance of the midnight air, drifting like dandelion seeds through her fingers and onto the screen before her, petals plucked from the recesses of her brain and imprinted in black lettering across the computer. She should’ve been in bed, but the night was much too enthralling to lose it to the haze of sleep and silence.

Perhaps it was the stars, or the message in the moonlight, but stories seemed to come easier under the cover of night, as if the darkness helped them grow beneath her slender fingers. There was no way she could miss that nightly ritual; writing was that bizarre part of her that seemed to fit so well in her soul, but haphazard against her other hobbies, though one of the ones she held most tightly.

If you were to peer through the glass on any night, you’d see her, perched in a chair in the back corner of her room, the chromebook balanced precariously between the armrest and her knee. Her hair, most likely left in loose waves over her shoulders, tucked behind her ears and her eyes fixed on the light of the screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard as if she’s running out of time. Perhaps she is; running out of time to find the right words, running out of time before she loses their significance.

Her head’s probably swaying from side to side, her lips mouthing the words of an unheard song. Spotify in the background, heard through the one earbud she keeps shoved in her left ear. Taylor Swift, a backdrop for her stories, the same songs every night for weeks.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the magic of midnight writing. Maybe it’s only her who feels the power of the paragraphs that press themselves out of her soul in the dead of night. Maybe the drawings in her mind finally get an opportunity to drip out under the cover of darkness.

Or maybe she’s only imagining things, the moonlight crafting wicked fantasies in the space between reality and her fictitious pages.

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Daily #17 - Writing Habits

Words: 374
Points: 400

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Amethyst sat down cozily on her bed next to one of her cats, opening her laptop. She liked to change up where she sat when she wrote - sometimes in the living room with her family, or in an armchair, or even just sitting on the floor. Opening up a Google document, she stared into the distance for a minute before looking back at her screen and starting to type. Once she was sure she had an idea that she could work with and that she was excited about, Amethyst felt more calm and confident in her writing, and the words started to flow more easily. She tended to feel more inspired in the evening or at night rather than earlier in the day, but it varied.
Amethyst often tried to start brainstorming ideas for her writing while going about her day - in the shower, while eating a meal - but she almost never actually got an idea that worked for her until she actually sat down and began to write.
As for listening to music while writing: once Amethyst felt in the groove of a writing project and she had somewhat of a vague idea of where the story was going, she could pop in her earbuds and listen to something without getting distracted. But when she was in the brainstorming-the-beginning-idea phase of her writing, she usually needed quiet to be able to focus.
Today the only free time Amethyst had was at night, so that’s when she wrote. In general, she wrote creative writing and writing assignments when her schedule allowed; and being homeschooled, it greatly varied, depending on the day. But no matter how busy the day was, Amethyst almost always took at least a few minutes at night to write in her journal. Sometimes it was very late when she finally got around to it! Having finally done all of her tasks for the day, Amethyst enjoyed the moments of unwinding, calming down, and journaling while sitting or laying in bed in her pajamas. Journaling was so much less stressful than writing stories for her; she could let her thoughts land freely on the paper, writing creatively and poetically if she felt inspired to do so, or just jotting down random sentences.

Daily #18 1/17/23
word count: 466
points: 600

Sophie laid wide awake in bed staring at her ceiling. The moonlight shown into her room illuminating her surroundings. Worries flashed in her head like demons in the dark. She couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was time for a Wynn and Luna Snugglefest she thought. She got out of bed as quietly as possible, tip toeing across her flower carpet towards her window. Despite her stealthiness, Sandor, standing guard outside the door, flung the door open, hand on his weapon.

“Where do you think you’re going,” he asked glaring at Sophie, blocking the doorway with his seven-foot built.

“I- I can’t fall asleep,” sighed Sophie, itching to pull out one of her eyelashes, “I was thinking to go visit Wynn and Luna, I need some peace.” Sandor sighed, removing his hand from his weapon and letting Sophie pass. As Sophie snuck downstairs, she saw Edaline asleep at the kitchen table, she looked exhausted with bags under her eyes that had never been there. Surrounding the table were the maps which Sophie had been searching earlier that day, for Elysian. Edaline suddenly popped up, noticing Sophie in the kitchen. Running her hand through her hair she pulled it back into a messy bun.

“Hey honey, heading for a Snugglefest?” Edaline smiled, but her smile not reaching to her eyes.

“Yeah- I can’t fall asleep, just too much on my mind… but, are you doing, okay? ” Edaline nodded, not too convincingly. She stood up, offering Sophie and hand and together they headed for the Panakes tree. The sky was bedazzled by thousands of little diamonds, they flashed and glittered above. As they approached the tree Sophie could feel a sense of peace and an unrelenting feeling of tiredness. “I think I sleep right here,” Sophie said yawning. Wynn and Luna sound asleep on either side of her, Silveny nearby in the pastures sleeping. Edaline snapped her fingers and pulled Sophie’s blankets and pillows from her room, into the void, and right under the tree.

“Have a good night’s sleep,” Edaline whispered as Sophie snuggled down into the covers, the warmth was so comforting. Edaline then left leaving Sophie to her dreams. Sophie dreamed of flying away to Silveny, the world behind her. As Silveny descended, Sophie could see that they landed in a field of deserts. The flowers were sweet smelling strawberry swirls, the clouds fluff creams, even the grass was edible, it tasted of sweet sugarknots. The next think Sophie knew was being woken up by Silveny.

“SOPHIE FLY, SOPHIE FLY!” transmitted to the persistent alicorn. Sophie rubbed her eyes awake as Wynn and Luna nuzzled her.

“Woah, woah- not today I have some things to get done,” smiled Sophie sadly as she headed back to the house with one mission in mind, to find Elysian.
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notes (not included in word count):
omg lol- I have no idea how to write fanfic so I apologize in advance for how awful this is, I can never continue the story as well as Shannon Messenger as done.

Jan. 18th Daily: Fanfic time! Choose a fandom (you CAN choose JWC but if you do this daily can only count for the fanfic or one of the 15 dailies in the monthly challenge, it can’t count for both, sorry. </3) and write a 400-word fanfic about it for 500 points. You can earn an extra 100 points for sharing it!

Word Count: 441 Words

This is a JWC fanfic about Cabin Wars and how chaotic they can be! (I also have another JWC fanfic that I'll submit for the monthly challenge that I'll post later)

Piper ran around the JWC campus, grinning as she held a piece of paper in her hand; containing a cabin war for her cabin’s wonderful enemies.. Pirate. She ran towards the Pirate Cabin, which happened to be on the other side of the camp from the Sleuth Cabin so it took quite a while to get there. Once she did, she ducked behind the cabin so that the Pirate’s didn’t see her coming until she posted the war. She crept into the cabin through the back door, noticing all of the pirate and sea themed decorations all over the cabin. She opened the door and found herself at the back of the Pirate cabin, most of the campers and the two leaders facing away from her; all of them at their respective laptops or other writing devices, looking anxious as they waited for another war.
Well… They were about to get their request.. Piper folded the piece of paper into an airplane that she would throw into the middle of the cabin (just to make things a little more exciting than just handing over the paper). Once she finished, she grinned and threw it into the cabin, as she did screaming “CABIN WARS!” As she screamed, all of the Pirate campers and (co)leaders jumped and looked towards her.
“PIPER! NOOO!” Ris yelled, running to pick up the paper airplane war. She grabbed it and unfolded it, throwing it to her campers so they could read it as well “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS???” Ris screamed, though she had a grin on her face and Piper could tell that she was enjoying this as well- after all, Cabin Wars were always in good fun!
Piper laughed and started to run out of the Pirate Cabin, but before she did she turned around to face the Pirate Cabin and looked back to them all
“This is revenge for warring Sleuth!” She grinned before running back out of the cabin and beginning to head back to her own Cabin, as she was sure that soon Pirate would retaliate, unless of course somebody else had already given her cabin a war. She was sure that it was bound to happen eventually since her cabin was currently in the lead of the rankings.
As she made her way back to Sleuth cabin, she passed a couple of campers who looked as though they were preparing to send wars to some cabins; however none of them were making their way to Sleuth, so she wasn’t too concerned, taking her time as she walked back; taking in the chaotic wonderful fun that was Cabin Wars in JWC.

Daily #19 1/18/23
word count: 220
points: 300

Today I’ll be journaling about one of my many characters, Lera Hsu. Most of her personality traits and appearance is based on me, I could say it’s Pinky Version 2.0. I like basing some of my characters on myself because it makes it easier for me to mold who that character will become and things like their worries, cause it’s basically just me I’m writing about. I do add more to the character to make them more interesting. One of Lera’s fears is arithmophobia. This isn’t a severe fear but it does slightly influence her daily life. Arithmophobia is the fear of a number or a specific number. Lera is afraid of the number 4, she can’t stand the number 4. This is quite a weird fear but it caused Lera to stress out whenever something is in pairs of 4. She prefers her lucky number 5. An example of this in context is maybe when Lera goes to the store to buy cookies (very random). She is fine with numbers under 4 or above it but most of the time she prefers the number 5. This is really no good way to explain why she has this fear but everyone has their fears and it’s okay, it doesn’t make anyone an outsider it makes you who you are.

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Daily #19 - Character Fears

Words: 235
Points: 300

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For this daily, I’ll be journaling about a character from a story that I started to write a year or two ago, but haven’t yet finished. My character’s name is Fox, and they have a “fear”, or more of a pet peeve, of other people using incorrect grammar. This phobia/pet peeve is mostly irrational - they are an intelligent, tidy, direct person, and they don’t appreciate people who don’t take the time or effort into using correct grammar. It really bothers them, and their younger sister Matina (who is quite aware of their opinions) always takes extra care into not using the wrong word in the wrong place, or to misspell something. How does this impact Fox’s character development and the story? Fox is hard of hearing, and they rely mainly on lipreading to communicate and understand conversations with anyone but their family (who can use sign language). Lipreading is hard enough on its own; you can’t catch every single word, and getting the general idea of the conversation you’re watching or participating in is usually as much as Fox can understand. So as you might imagine, foreign words, words they’re not familiar with, and unexpected words are very confusing and sometimes throw them off, and grammar goes along with that. When Fox thinks they know how the conversation is going and then someone uses a word incorrectly, they sometimes second-guess themself and get lost.