Daily #28
7/28/2023
471 words (67 words for making a daily, 404 words for using a daily)

My daily:

The daily team has decided to go on strike! They believe that 10 mangoes a minute isn't enough to compensate for their work. To ensure that we will have dailies for the remainder of the session, outline a plan to get them to continue with their work. Persuasive essay? Bribery? Blackmail or negotiating a raise? Write at least 300 words about how you would solve this dilemma.

I used @Drawing_Dragons28's daily.

Create a story that takes two different styles intertwined to create one story. (Ex: Half poem, half 3rd person in paragraphs)

My fingers wrap around my shirt, clutching it tighter. My lungs burn as I try breathing, heaving. My eyes water as the foul air stings them. I'd been followed everywhere. I can't escape from those haunting me. The unwanted memories cling to me stubbornly.
I was blinded from the truth, a typical wolf in sheep's clothing. I let my emotions cloud my judgement. It'll never happen again. My heart aches as the truth sinks in deeper, rooting itself into my beliefs.

Fairest sister, all I wanted
Was one not to call my bluff
But you, failing, are haunted
Shifting around with each shove
You'll never be good enough

She's been keeping me here all these years, my sister. Always so nice, always so… loving. I bet she convinced herself that she truly loved me too. I've been willingly staying here with her this whole time. I thought she would protect me. I couldn't have been farther from the truth…
She used me in my vulnerable state. She used my trust to her advantage. She never loved me! Controlling me all along, my sister has been manipulating me behind my back. It's a twisted story, one sister controlling another.

So you know now, don't you?
Think that you can get away?
But you'll be fully through
Once my plan is complete
Don't think I'm one to sway

“I'll help you through this, Leyani.”
“Don't worry, we'll make it through. Together.”
“Keep going! You can't give up, Ley.”

Lies, lies, lies. Every single one of them! I've been eating up her lies from the start. I don't know when or how or why she did this. All I know is that there is no going back now.
She knows now. She knows that I know. She's not going to hide her intentions anymore. No more masking, pretending, constant lying.

No more holding back.

I was your protector from day one
You weren't hesitant to betray me
Sister, you don't know what you've done
If you would just agree
I think I deserve an apology

I've followed her around like a slave for too long. I've given up on my desires. I've given up on my friends, believing that they were the ones betraying me. I've given up my time, energy, resources. I've given up too much for her cause.

I'm going to get everything I've lost from her back.

I promise.

Daily // July 28 // 307 words

Daily by Peach_Drawing:

Today is “Daily team is taking a break day”! /dkm /j /lh /t While you the writer are writing today and can't join them, your characters are not! Give your characters a relaxing, fun day off in your world's best vacation or just relaxation spot, as far away from any plot as possible! How do they spend their twenty-four hours? What measures do you need to take to completely hide all signs of the plot? Write a story of at least 300 words.

The island was beautiful.
As the group of Pokémon watched the body of land approach from their boat, they found themselves in awe of the wholesome buildings, lush greenery outlining them, and the crystal clear waters of the canal snaking into the island town. “Woah…” Peach whispered, the cherry blossom Leafeon's eyes twinkling as the ship they were sailing on entered the canal. “Yeah, I guess it looks sort of nice,” said Hearth, trying to hide their awe. They soon came to a dock in the heart of the town, and climbed out, Forge tying up the boat before following them. The plaza was beautiful and filled with many species of Pokémon. Static, who had insisted on bringing a notepad to a vacation spot, noted that although there were plenty of water-typed natives, along with a decent amount of rock and grass types, there was a massive variety there, as the town of Fime was a wonderful place to both live and visit. The group made themselves comfortable in a park beside the canal, ignoring some of the looks from visitors worried about the odd Leafeon and the ‘cursed’ Eeveelution and Charizard. The former, Sky, stretched and laid down on the grass, relaxing. “I haven't felt this calm feeling in a long time,” she sighed, Forge agreeing as he sat next to her, keeping the blue fire on his tail far away from the moist grass. Peach and Hearth played around, the Growlithe surprised to be having so much fun. “So I suppose this is really the incredible location advertised everywhere,” Static said, the Ampharos having never seen anything like this after being cooped up in a cave-lab place for so long. “Yeah…” Sky whispered, ironically looking up at the sky. “…I'm really glad we chose to go here.” The group agreed, all having a great time.

new post because on different device ;w;

Daily

(I got a prompt from @xXFierroOrFalafelXx: “Write a 300-word description of a creature that you made up. Where does it live, what does it look like, what does it eat, is it dangerous, helpful, or neither, what are some cool facts about it, etc., anything you can think of. This is worth 400 points.”)

The shazarxa is a dream-creature that took on a life of its own and made its way into the physical world. A shazarxa’s corporeal form is roughly the size of a cat, with thick fur, a lizard-like head, sharp-clawed paws, feathered ear tufts, a long tail with a fan of feathers on the end, and bird-like wings. A shazarxa’s fur is typically multiple shades of gray, which can range from very pale to nearly black. Their feathers, however, come in bright, vibrant colors, and are usually used to convey emotion and perform mating displays. The main colony of shazarxi live in a canyon in the midst of a forest. However, smaller colonies have branched off into the boreal forest to the north and along the coast to the west. They are mainly herbivorous, but are known to eat insects and may also be capable of photosynthesis. Their favorite foods include seeds, nuts, berries, and fruits. Shazarxi are highly intelligent, semi-social creatures that live and work together, but also spend a significant amount of time on their own. They have a complex language that includes both vocal sounds and body language. When flying, they speak mainly in loud chirps and squawks that carry basic meanings, but on the ground, they have a wide variety of lower-pitched, more detailed noises that function as words that can be used to form entire sentences. Shazarxi have proven themselves capable of teaming up to achieve shared long-term goals, such as when they construct nests or assign different roles to help protect the colony. Shazarxi are not typically aggressive toward other species, barring the insects they occasionally prey upon, but they do put up a fight when feeling threatened. They will not hesitate to attack a predator, using their sharp claws and teeth to injure their opponent and their wings and tail to nimbly dodge and maneuver. An individual shazarxa is not very strong, but a group of these speedy creatures can take down a much larger animal. Shazarxi will attack each other from time to time, although these fights are rarely lethal. They may quarrel over territory or leadership. Shazarxi lay nests of one to four eggs at a time, with an annual cycle of mating, nesting, and hatching seasons. Baby shazarxi are referred to as hatchlings, while slightly older shazarxi, who are beginning to grow their adult feathers, are called fledglings. Shazarxa chicks mature to breeding age within a year or two. They remain capable of reproducing up until about ten to fifteen years of age, but can continue living for another five to seven years after that, although their senses and strength weaken significantly. When a shazarxa dies, a part of them lives on due to their nature as a semi-imaginary being, and remains in a ghost-like state made up of their thoughts and emotions, but not their physical forms.


Critique ( https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/697496/?page=1#post-7380677 )

To start, let me just say that I really liked your direct interpretation of the flower symbolism. Having your characters aware of the meanings behind the flowers, instead of just making them be symbolic to the reader, made the story’s emotion feel very immediate and genuine. The repetition of “separation” when Mary broke down crying in the garden even provided a structure for that whole section. There was also some symbolism in the weather, I noticed- It set the mood throughout the whole passage: bright and sunny in the joyful beginning, then becoming stormy during the hardship in the middle, and finally becoming sunny again at the end. The personification of the sun was a nice touch, from when it was “painting yellow” to when it “shared a lone ray.” It was well-worded and definitely made the passage more interesting. Honestly, I couldn’t find many things about your writing to fix. If I had to suggest something, I’d say set up a few more interactions between the characters at the beginning in order to really establish a sense of their personalities and the nature of their relationship. That would help the reader form closer attachments to the characters, and therefore the pain of seeing them separated later on would be more impactful. Also, maybe introduce the Everlasting flower at the beginning, so that the ending of the passage references something that is already familiar, creating a recurring image to support the central theme of undying friendship. As far as grammar/punctuation/clarity errors go, there were fewer than one would expect for a piece that you mentioned was translated with Google Translate. The few that I caught were “five-petal flower” should be “five-petalled flower,” there should be a period after “observe it better” and a capital letter used to start the next sentence, “the harm she made me” should be rephrased to something more like “the harm she caused me,” “vision field” would sound better as “field of vision,” and there should be a period after “getting away from you.” (There may be others that I missed, I’m not the greatest at proofreading- ) Anyway, yeah, there isn’t really anything else I’d correct. This passage was excellently written, great job! :3

Writing Competition Entry | Exactly 1000 words :D
This is from a story I'm writing - I decided to enter two chapters. This started out as a word war, (but that was only, like 200 words of it) and then I decided to continue it. Is that okay?
Anyway…


The Beastbirds

One

I suppose I am a beast, since I live in Beastland. But I never felt like one. I am a bird without a power. Every single bird in beastland has a power. I am just different and I don’t know why.

My best friend is an airbird. Airbirds are transparent, and since they are made of air, you can hardly feel one at all. Soojie, as my best friend, always understands me, but I don’t think she truly knows what it is like to be left out.

I always like dreaming about if I did have a power, if I was a true Beastbird. Nobody would stare or give me weird looks, that was for sure. Since power is based of personality, I think I would be a waterbird. Always dripping, slashy, kind of deformed. Bright blue, easily can ooze under doors, and when you dive into the ground - splat! A puddle of water.

At least a waterbird would be better than a electricbird; zappy, jerky, always snapping at people - no thank you. I have always tried to be kind, even if it is not easy because everyone is whispering about you. ‘She doesn't have a power … So quiet … Dull feathers … Why is she even here?’

Me and Soojie like to brainstorm what power I would have if I did. She always says I make a good firebird. Now that would be my dream come true, better than a waterbird. Spunky, determined, brave. Just like me.

Only if it could be true.

“You’ve got pluck,” Soojie had told me one of these days when we were discussing the subject. She attempted to do a backflip in the air. I could not see her for a moment. She blended into the sky. After a few seconds, her faint outline touched down next to me. “You’d make a perfect firebird,”

“I don’t know,” I said, watching her attempting to do aerial tricks. “I was thinking maybe a waterbird,” I looked at my dull brown feathers and sighed.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Soojie, pretending to look horrified. “Splashy? Serene? Blue? Trust me, Liz. You would not make a good waterbird,” She performed a wonky summer salt before falling to the ground. “I’ll never be as good as Amaya,” she said.

I sighed. Amaya used to be Soojie’s best friend, before she moved here. Soojie had told me wonderful stories about Amaya’s gymnastics. I had only met her once before, when she came to visit Soojie.

“No,” I agreed. “But it comes easier for Amaya. You get carried away by the wind, but Amaya doesn't. What’s more, you can see her easily,” I teased.

“What can I say?” asked Soojie, melting away again. “If I could choose, I would choose an electricbird like Amaya. Bright yellow would suit me, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” I mumble. I sighed. “At least you have a power,” I was talking so softly now that Soojie couldn’t even hear me. “Unlike me,” But my words were not heard, as if they hadn’t even existed.


Two

After watching Soojie complete a perfect backflip, her eyes wide, I told her I had to go.

“Where?” she asked, watching me walk away.

I didn’t know, so I didn’t answer. Instead, I beat my wings and flew away as fast as I could.

I found myself landing at the edge of the woods, walking toward a large gray boulder behind a giant winkleberry tree. I knew where I was. I discovered this spot a few days ago. I have been here a lot since then. It was under the boulder, a large but cozy comfortable hole lined at the bottom with soft leaves and pine needles.

I think a garrypladger must have dug it, but it was definitely abandoned now. Garrypladgers are lazy and hardly ever leave their holes- even for catching food. If one was using it, they would still be in there.

I dropped down in the hole and made myself comfortable. After a few deep breaths, I realized I should apologize to Soojie. She didn’t do anything wrong.

I looked around my secret place and smiled. Soojie would love it here. We could make it our secret playhouse. I just don’t know why I haven't shown it to her yet. I guess I’m selfish to kind of want it to myself.

“I’ll show it to her when it’s time to,” I whispered. I don't know when or what the time to is, so I pushed it out of my mind.

For now.

I sighed. I decided to go apologize to Soojie. I flapped noisily out of the hole, and landed next to the tree. I was just about to fly away again, when I realized I was not alone.

A young unicorn stood a few yards away, watching me silently. I knew unicorns could speak any language, including Beastbird’s.

“Hello,” I said tentatively.

The unicorn didn’t answer. Then, finally, after a few moments, she whispered “You don’t look like any Beastbird I’ve ever seen, my dear,” She pawed the ground lightly with her sparkly hoof.

“I’m not,” I said. “I mean, I am,” It was then that I started to wonder if what I just said was true. “I mean,” I said. “I just don’t have a power,”

“I see,” The unicorn tossed her mane and shimmers floated to the ground. “Are you sure about that, my dear?” she whispered, ever so softly, that I was not sure if I heard correctly.

I had no idea what this unicorn was talking about.

“Well…” I said slowly. “I can’t do any special things and I’m not a special color, and I can’t even fly as fast or as far or as high as the special birds,”

“So you're not special?”

“Well… yes, I guess so,”

“Hmm… I don’t know about that, my dear,” And with that the unicorn slid noiselessly back into the shadows of the forest, leaving only a few golden sparkles in her wake.

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♩♬ Author’s Notes:
> just some critique for @xXFierroOrFalafelXx !!
> wasn't exactly sure if I had to use proper grammar or not ajshfga
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First of all, the concept was really interesting! Just from the short summary you made, I thought, “Ooh, this is gonna be cool!“ I’ll mainly be doing a line-by-line style for this, I hope you don’t mind. Though, for some more general critique, I’d recommend putting more paragraph breaks, especially when there’s dialogue. (Oh, and I apologize in advance for my repetition of the words ”I'd recommend“ and ”I'd personally" haha. Though, I genuinely mean that I'd personally do it, and you don't have to!)

It all began with a soggy paper airplane.

Not much to say here, other than intriguing first line!

Chizuru was doing her homework in her room and her little sister Sakura was kneeling by the window tracing raindrops as they went down and excitedly cheering them on as if they were in a race.

I’d personally rewrite this sentence with more periods, commas or semicolons. “Chizuru was doing her homework in her room; her little sister, Sakura, was kneeling by the window, tracing raindrops as they went down and excitedly cheering them on as if they were in a race.”

Chizuru would be just about to think of the name of some WWII general, and then suddenly Sakura’s voice would shout, “and Benny wins the round!” By then Chizuru had forgotten the name of the general.

Chizuru would be was (I believe “was” fits better with the tense here!) just about to think of the name of some WWII general, and then suddenly but was interrupted (I'd personally remove the words “then” and “suddenly” whenever possible.) by Sakura’s voice would shouting, “and Benny wins the round!” By then, Chizuru had forgotten the name of the general.

I bolded the changes I made! Of course, you don't have to use these.
Additionally, if you want to make this scene shorter, you can replace the “Chizuru would be just about to think of the name of some WWII general,” to something less specific, such as “Chizuru would be just about to write something down.”

“Sakura, can you be quiet?” she finally snapped.
Immediately she knew that had been a bad idea. Sakura’s lower lip quivered and she blinked rapidly but Chizuru saw her black eyes watering. “What happened to you? You used to be fun!”

I like how you described Sakura crying!

To Sakura, fun obviously meant being loud and annoying, but a thirteen-year-old like Chizuru had to be mature and it didn’t have time for silly nonsense. Still, Chizuru felt a pang of guilt when she saw her little sister crying. “I’m sorry, Sakura. I’m just stressed.”

I also liked this line! Though, I'd recommend removing the “it” in the sentence “had to be mature and it didn't have time.”

“You’re always stressed,” Sakura said, crossing her arms. “Buuuut…” she said, stretching out the word. “I’ll let it go this time. Just don’t do it again.”

little siblings amiright

So Sakura kept on playing her raindrop racing game and Chizuru did her best to ignore her. Sakura shouted something, maybe about something on the roof? Chizuru wasn’t sure, she was finally focused on her essay.

"So Sakura kept on playing her raindrop racing game, and Chizuru did her best to ignore her. She heard (Just a small nitpick, assuming that the perspective is currently on Chizuru.) Sakura shouted something, maybe about something a thing (It's a-okay to use a word two times in a sentence, though sometimes changing it up can sound good!) on the roof? Chizuru wasn’t sure, as she was finally focused on her essay."

I bolded my changes again.

She’d been typing for a few minutes then something started to feel off.

I recommend changing the “then” to “when!” Additionally, perhaps try describing what felt off to Chizuru –– was it an eerie silence of some sorts, or perhaps the loud sound of rain splashing down?

She looked back over to where Sakura was and her eyes widened in horror.
Right below the window was the porch roof which was currently being rained on which made it very slippery and Sakura was already more than halfway through the window.

It took me a few rereads to understand this. Maybe try clarifying it a bit, such as adding what floor they were on? Also, this is probably a little nitpick again, though I'd personally rewrite a certain part as "Right below the window was the porch roof, which was currently being rained on which made it very slippery very slippery from the rain.“ due to the word ”which" already used in the sentence. Run-on sentences can be confusing if not added enough commas or other punctuation, so try separating some parts a bit!

Chizuru made some sort of panicked sound somewhere between, “Stop!” and “Sakura!” She tried grabbing Sakura to pull her back inside but instead she was pulled out too. All of her annoyance with Sakura suddenly vanished and all she could think about was trying to save them, but the roof was steep and slippery.

I like this! The pacing seems pretty good here.

They tried to hold onto the shingles but they were falling at a rapid pace.

Again, I'd personally rewrite this as "They tried to hold onto the shingles, but they were continued to falling at a rapid pace.“ since ”they" was already specified in the sentence.

She saw Sakura pick something that used to be white off the roof–Chizuru thought it looked like a soggy paper airplane– and then they had slipped off the roof.

This is probably just nitpicks at this point and I apologize for that sobbing, but maybe remove the second “the roof” since it had already been used in this line. Additionally, I'd personally remove the “that used to be” part, since it might be slightly confusing.

Chizuru screamed and squeezed her eyes shut, her instincts told her to protect her little sister, but before she got a chance they hit something.

I also like this! I think you can replace the comma after “eyes shut” with a period though.

It was weirdly smooth and flexible but still a bit rough, and the landing didn’t hurt at all.
“Whoa,” she heard Sakura say in an awed voice and decided to open her eyes.

The second sentence can be shortened by removing the “decided to” and fixing the tense of “open!”

No. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. She had passed out while working on her essay because there was no way that they were ten feet in the air sitting on a giant paper airplane.

Again, I like this! Really shows Chizuru's personality in my opinion. I'd add a comma before the “because” though.

“This is so cool!” Sakura shouted. She leaned to the left which made the paper airplane tilt left and made Chizuru queasy.

Again, probably a nitpick, but I'd personally rewrite this as "She leaned to the left which made the paper airplane tilt left the same way and made Chizuru queasy."

“Careful!” she yelped as they rose higher and higher in the air. “There’s no seatbelts on this thing.”
“Well then don’t fall off,” Sakura laughed. “It wants to take us somewhere.”
“It’s a paper airplane. It shouldn’t want stuff. We shouldn’t be able to ride it.”
“Stop worrying about the logic of it so much,” Sakura told her.

This is good!

Well Chizuru would keep worrying about the logic of it, or at least she started to, but then the paper airplane did a flip in the wind, leaving Chizuru screaming and Sakura letting out a whoop of delight.

The second part of this line is good (“but then the paper airplane did a flip…”), though I was a little confused by the first sentence. If Chizuru was continuing to worry about the logic, perhaps you can remove the “or at least she started to” part, since she was already doing it.

Chizuru had her eyes squeezed shut, and even though Sakura was ahead of her, somehow she could tell because she told her to open her eyes.

I'd say the wording in the middle part is a little confusing –– it has the nearly the same meaning as “despite Sakura being ahead of her, somehow she knew,” which isn't very comprehensible. I'd recommend changing it a bit.

Chizuru shook her head, eyes still shut tight, not even registering the fact that they hadn’t plummeted to the ground.

This is again good, great job! I'd personally remove the “even” though, since it doesn't add much to the sentence.

She didn’t open her eyes until she could feel them flying normally and then they were going toward the upstairs window of a cheerful yellow house.

I'd personally replace the “and then” with a period!

“Oh no, oh no,” she groaned. “Sakura, help me steer us out of here!”
“We won’t crash,” Sakura said, obviously having full faith in the paper airplane. “It wants us to be here.”

This is also good!

Chizuru decided there was no point in trying to argue with Sakura and just tried not to look down at the ground that was thirty feet below or the third-storey window. The panicked voice in her head was yelling, this is bad, this is bad, until it was interrupted by Sakura shouting, “duck!”

Again, good line! I believe you meant to write "thirty feet below of" though.

Chizuru ducked and then the paper airplane went through the window and into a bedroom.

I'd remove the “then” here –– as I said earlier, I like removing the words “then” when it's not needed.

The bedroom was messy, littered with art supplies. There was a shelf covered in sculptures made from all sorts of materials. The walls were covered in drawings and blueprints. And there were paper airplanes everywhere. There was a bed tucked in the corner and on the table next to it was a family photo.

The sentence structure is quite similar here. It's not necessarily a bad thing, just pointed it out in case you wanted to change it!

Chizuru’s eyes widened in horror. Oh no. There, smiling next to his parents and older sister, was a boy from her class, Declan Giroux.

This may make the reader question if Chizuru had a bad past with Declan (which, again, isn't necessarily a bad thing, I'm just not sure if that's what you were going for. ).

“Sakura, we have to get out of here right now.” Chizuru turned back to Sakura, but her little sister just pointed at the spot where the giant paper airplane had been. In its place was a regular-sized one. Chizuru blinked and suddenly she didn’t care that it was neither logical nor safe to ride a giant paper airplane, it would be even worse if Declan found them.

Also good!

“Well it grew earlier, let's try it again.”

Maybe you can try clarifying who is talking?

So Sakura threw the paper airplane out the window, but it stayed its regular size. Earlier they had been in danger, maybe that was why it had grown. But Sakura didn’t want to test that theory. A fall of thirty feet would definitely k*ll them. “Quick, just hide,” she told Sakura.

Again, good! I feel a suspense here on what'll happen next.

Before they even got the chance, the door opened and there stood Declan Giroux with his brown freckled face that was impossibly handsome and his thick black hair that was in many braids which were all pulled back in a ponytail. Declan blinked. “…Sakura?”

Again, I'd remove the “even” here, since it doesn't add much. Additionally, it was said that Declan was Chizuru's classmate –– why was he recognizing Sakura?

All the blood had drained from Sakura’s face a few moments ago but now all of it and some more came pouring back. “I-it’s n-not what it looks like,” she stammered. “I swear, we-we-we were just…” how exactly was she supposed to explain this?
“Your paper airplanes are magic! It saved my life!” Sakura exclaimed.

I can sort of feel how Sakura feels in this moment, which is a good thing! Though, maybe try adding something such as “at last” after “Sakura exclaimed,” since it might readers think that the person speaking before that sentence was someone else (I hope I'm wording this in an understandable way)?

You reached the end! Thank you for letting me critique this piece, I enjoyed reading it. I hope this was at least somewhat helpful haha. Good luck in the writing competition!

♩♬ Word Count: ~699
( excluding quotes, emojis and things in dialogue tags )

daily 29th <3

I posted: worldbuilding: the world’s magic is slowly dying / antagonist: whoever controls the world - so the government, monarch, etc. / lesson: selflessness can really be selfishness in disguise / dialogue: “This can’t be real!” / turning point: the protagonist realises they’ve been the villain all along

I used: worldbuilding: the world is flooded, 1/3 of land is now underwater (@jingyuans__) / antagonist: the shadow of the main character (@CleverComment) / lesson: trust no one. (@embXR_THEauthZr) / dialogue: “Did it really have to come to this?” (@Sandy-Dunes) / turning point: The protagonist finds out that one of their friends/teammates/colleagues/etc is working with the antagonist (@​​AmazaEevee)

Raven was alone. At last.
His tiny speedboat juddered across the waves, speeding away from the island. Soon he would be far away from land, out on the open sea – finally, some peace and quiet.
There had been nothing but panic lately. Constant strange occurrences – beginning with the underwater quakes and tsunamis, and then the ocean continuing to flood even when those had died down, clawing its way up the coast and drowning everything in its path, until the United States was reduced to united islands.
And then the people started to disappear. One by one by one, with no apparent reason.
Raven was one of the last – one of the last on his island, possibly one of the last in the world.
That was why he was here. Trying to find something, anything else.
His father believed there were others out there. Raven did not - because he had always been a pessimist, he told himself. But there was only so much searching one could do, day after day and week after week, until one began to lose hope.
He looked over his shoulder – the island was out of sight now.
And all at once, everything
darkened.
A sudden chill swept through him. His breathing quickened, his palms beginning to sweat.
This had never happened before, not in any of the times he had followed this same route. It’s a cloud over the sun, he reassured himself, trying to shake himself out of it.
But still – something in the air felt… wrong.
He looked down at the waves. The shadow of the boat on the water seemed to stretch – grow, almost.
A rustle behind him. He threw a glance over his shoulder. Nothing.
The sun played over the fishing gear, casting its shadow over the empty seats at the back of the boat. Shadow?
With a jolt, he realised what was missing. Shadow. His own shadow; it was gone.
He whirled back around – and there it was, standing in front of him. The dark outline of himself, but not himself.
It cocked his head to the side.
Raven was frozen, yet he was shaking. Hot all over, yet he was far, far too cold.
His haze of terror found words – I’m going to die, he thought.
I’m going to disappear, like all the others.
The shadow watched him, for a moment. It stepped closer.
It reached out a ghostly hand –
this is the end, it’s going to kill me –
and it abruptly flinched back, disappearing into a cloud of smoke, lost to the wind.
Raven felt the boat rock beneath him, waves sloshing over the side. A shout called out to him, a familiar voice – accompanied with the chugchugchug of a motorboat.
“Aspen? What are you doing here?”
Aspen cut his boat’s motor. “Looking for you, mate! Didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“I’m searching – like I do every day?” Raven reached over the side of the boat and splashed water onto his face. “Honestly though, I just had the weirdest experience.”
“Huh,” Aspen climbed onto Raven’s boat, leaving his own rocking on the waves.
“What are you doing? We should go back,” Raven looked up at his friend. Aspen was standing over him, a backlit, darkened silhouette. His shadow stretched out towards Raven, reaching –
And the shadow got darker.
Aspen got darker.
“Did it really have to come to this?” When Aspen spoke, the voice was not his own.
Raven tried to speak, but he found he couldn’t make a sound. Or maybe he did speak – he couldn’t hear properly, it felt like he was underwater.
Why was he–
–underwater?
He gasped for air, grabbing the side of the boat as freezing cold waves washed over him, again and again. He tried to kick his legs but he couldn’t move, he was sinking, he was sinking.
The shadow loomed over him.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t fall for that,” It purred, flickering in the sunlight. “But then again, you trusted your friend so completely.”
Aspen’s body crumbled to the boat’s floor. The shadow stayed standing, trailing what looked like strings – puppet strings.
Raven spat out water, trying to speak –
His shadow interrupted him. “I knew I’d have to dispose of either you or that meddling father of yours soon. But I didn’t think I’d have to take your dear friend down in the process.
“What a shame it had to come to this.”

They were the last words Raven heard before he sunk
beneath
the waves.

I actually did the weekly so here it is:
| Path 1: ANCIENT, Prompt 1 | Path 2: PAST, Prompt 1 | Path 3: DAY, Prompt 1 | Path 4: FUTURE, Prompt 1 |

SONG:
Sitting on the wall of all you know
It’s where you began, back where you began.
Too scared to jump down, see where you’d go.
No idea and no plan, you haven’t got any plan.
Why don’t you jump down?
You could turn this all around
When will you get around?
To doing all that you want to now.
Get up and leave it behind.
Get up, don’t waste your time.
Get up before you fall.
You’ve got to let go of it all.

So go in and explore
That’s all you need to do, all you need to do
Discover so much more
To burst right through, burst right through
And break down that wall
That prison door
Break down that wall
Don’t be afraid to fall
You can take to the sky
You can fly

Do you feel like it’ll all fall apart?
The moment you fall
Do you feel like you will never make a start?
Well trust me, it’ll all
Come together, maybe not how you planned
But in any weather, you’ll find you can stand
Tall, tall
It’ll come together, the second you decide
It’s time to be free
It’ll work for the better, when you stop trying to hide
Then you will see
It come together, in different ways
It’ll come together, that’s just how it plays
Out, how about

You become finally free
Run in like a child, run in like a child
Grow wings just like a bee
Burst into the wild, burst into the wild
And break down that wall
That prison door
Break down that wall
Don’t be afraid to fall
You can take to the sky, yeah
You can fly


ANCIENT PAST:
Fire Ibex
The Fire Ibex is an extremely interesting animal. It is huge, magical, and entirely made of fire, making it easy to spot. There are many legends of how it came about, most notably that it was the product of extensive collaboration of some SWC leaders to find the perfect mascot. It is a curious creature, one that will always be a mystery to us.

Habitat
Most fire ibexes live in alpine regions around the world, using their amazing climbing ability amongst the many boulders, cliffs, and mountains in these regions. They only live in natural areas and rarely come into contact with civilisation. When they do, though, it is a magical experience for all involved.

Appearance
The Fire Ibex looks much like a normal ibex, the most outstanding difference being its skin. It is about the size of an elephant, has horns slightly larger than a normal ibex’s horns, and – by far the most curious thing – is made of golden fire. The skin seems flat with a fiery glint, and the amount of accuracy in its appearance is astounding. However, surprisingly, the fire ibex does not light anything up with its skin. Instead, it provides a gentle warmth and a bright light in darkness.

Behaviour
Fire ibexes are mostly passive animals, but if another animal attacks it, they will fight using their powerful horns. They will go to great lengths to find what they want, usually involving climbing. When a fire ibex walks, it plants mango seeds beneath them. On occasion, fire ibexes speak with any people they encounter in the language the person speaks. In this way, humans have been able to find out more about fire ibexes’ perspective. We have found that they often think like humans do and generally try to do things for the good of others.
Fire ibexes are quite rare since they do not seem to be able to reproduce, but when they do come across another of their kind, they can be quite territorial and lock horns. They do not do this when a normal ibex enters their territory, however.

Diet
Fire ibexes are mainly vegetarian, occasionally eating insects. Their usual go-to things are leaves and mangoes, often sprouted from themselves. They never eat any meat other than insects, despite their size and strength.

Unusual Characteristics
Fire ibexes have many unusual characteristics. As mentioned, their skin is made of gold fire, which has never been seen on any other animal. They also have muscular legs compared to their normal counterparts. Fire ibexes are also the only known animals known to speak the same language as humans.


DISTANT PAST:
I’m falling. No. It’s just my imagination.
I can’t be falling. I’m on land. A tall, strong mountain. I look down and see the rest of the mountain below me, a steep slope, the beautiful view of the rest of the country. Behind me is the queen’s huge black castle. I never want to go back there.
I glance around for Aurelia. She must be somewhere in this mess of a mountain – it almost looks like a toddler dumped ice cream on a rock. It’s no use calling out to her. She’s too far away for me to see, and it would just waste breath.
Why did she have to leave me here? Why did she have to call me to something huge, then leave me here after it ended? Why? My eyes fill to the brim with tears, overflowing, pouring over my eyes and down my cheeks. Why me? Why now?
I guess I might as well go down the mountain.
I test the fragile snow, tapping my foot on it before I step. Looking back at the night-black castle, I smile. I will never go there again. Ever. I will never have to go back to the cells of torture to sit there and rot. I will never be forced into hearing – listening to – the queen’s cruel plans. They don’t even exist anymore. But before I celebrate, I’ve got to get down the mountain, into Blackrock, through the door back to Kensington. Not so difficult. I think.
Legs shaking, I inch down the horribly huge mountain, wary of any last survivors from the battle. My white sword is still firmly fixed on my hand, ready, waiting, quivering for action. I’ve just got to get down the mountain safely. And I’ve got to find Aurelia. I forgot about that.
Maybe there’s some use calling out to her. Maybe she’ll hear me. It’s relatively quiet.
“Aurelia! You around? Aurelia?”
I freeze, waiting for a tired groan, a broken voice, something. She’s got to be somewhere. She’s got to be able to say something.
Nothing.
The whispers of the wind envelop me in a blanket of white noise, the only noise. It contains me, a dark, creeping, echoing feeling of bleak, cold loneliness. It showers me in misery, hopelessness, pain… loss. Loss of a life that was never good for much anyway. Loss of a friend who I only knew for a moment. Loss of a place in the desert of time, loss of any more identity than a bit of tumbleweed… here one moment, gone the next. Loss. Deep, trapped, paralysing loss.
If Aurelia was here, she’d tell a joke or something, something to lift the weight off. Something.
Nothing. There’s nothing.
One last time. “Aurelia?”
Only silence, dark, cold, empty silence.
I have to go down the mountain alone, with a life no more important than tumbleweed. My chest feels empty, like the blood has been sucked from it. I’m an empty shell without purpose, without someone who cares about me at all, let alone someone like Aurelia. I’ve just got to go down this mountain if I want to celebrate the victory. But I don’t want to celebrate the victory.
I want to mourn the surely dead. Aurelia, my last resort. Gone.
I might as well be gone too, without her.
My muscles tense as I glance over the edge.
“Aurelia,” I whisper, one last, forgotten time.
I slip on the cold, unforgiving ice, but I let myself fall. I let the loneliness sway around me.
“Courtney!” No. No. It can’t be.
Her face plunges with me into the darkness.


PRESENT DAY:
“Mufasa.”
Something like a cold breath whispers over me, swirling around me, blocking my vision. Was this a bad idea? Was it a trick or something? No. No trick involves this wonder, this… magic. Magic is real, I know magic is real, and it looks like this.
Soon, the wind fades, and I get a clearer view of the world around me. It’s different. Very different. I’m indoors, in a huge, dark room that looks like a carved-out cave. The silence of the room is deafening – though people walk and even talk to each other, I can’t even hear an echo. It’s strange.
I hear a whisper from behind me and whip around. The silence makes a difference.
A girl smiles at me. “Hi. Welcome to Mufasa – the mysterious university of fantastical, alchemy and spellbinding arts! I can show you around.”
The girl has olive skin and dusty brown hair, with eyes green like grass, sparkling bright in contrast to the dull cave around us. She wears a tight-fitting orange shirt, and a bright red skirt flows down to her knees. Her black boots clink on the ground as she walks towards me.
I stare at her. “What is this place?”
She smiles. “The head.”
“Where’s Nogginhair? Where do I go? What am I supposed to do?”
“Nogginhair works at the other world, the one you came from. You’re a new student, I assume… I don’t know what classes you’re going to do, but- wait, have you got a wand?”
My head swims with the information. “No.”
She takes my hand. “Oh. Well, you get it at Ollivanders. Here, I’ll show you.”
The girl guides me through the centre, towards a section of the building to the left. The rock above the doorway has ‘Resources’ carved into it, and the whole section gives off an entrancing vibe. Bright and pastel colours twist and swirl across the alley-like section, along with sounds like none I’d ever heard before: cheerful growling, boisterous bubbling, something like a zipper… It’s magical.
Then come the smells. A bright, sweet, tangy aroma overwhelms me, then a note of bitter, then a foul smell like rotten eggs. I can almost taste something like cheesecake mixed with caramel, overwhelmed by the sharp smell of vinegar. The overwhelming atmosphere feels heavy on my skin, pulling me down. It’s still incredible.
The girl tugs my wrist. “Here we are.”
Looking up, I see a polished metal sign that reads ‘OLLIVANDERS’. Inside the foggy, blue-tinted windows is a huge array of what I can only tell to be wands: short, stubby wands, thick wands, long wands, a huge wand that should probably be a staff. The girl drags me in, an excited grin on her face as she runs her eyes over the gigantic collection. Pulling me to a dark wooden counter in the middle of the shop, the girl presents me to a young man behind it.
“This one’s a new student – only just came here. She needs a wand to start her off.”
The man grins heartily. “Sure thing. We won’t be a moment. I’m sure you just want to be out of this kerfuffle – I know I did when I was new here.”
I’m the opposite – I want to stay here and take in everything, every single wonder on offer here. I want to stay and breathe pure glory, or hope, or victory, or whatever other fascinating thing they have. I want it all. This is the place I want to stay in. Magic is real, and it looks like this.


DISTANT FUTURE:
Ella thumps her baby seat. “Can we please go to McFerguson’s? Please?”
Mum groans. “Fine.”

As I slide of my hover-seat, I’m almost swallowed by the hustle and bustle of people at the Fast Food Alley. McFerguson’s is the most popular, of course, with its cooked-to-perfection thin chips and tender, flavoursome vegetable burgers. Nando’s is next to it, which still has meat even though vegetable meat is cheaper and tastier with its inserted flavours – I think it believes in ‘keeping it natural’, even though I see nothing natural in keeping massive amounts of chickens in a cage, just for the meat and eggs. Not that I’ve ever seen one.
As soon as we enter McFerguson’s, we’re greeted by a waiter bot. Mum taps its screen, getting our usual orders: Mum gets a large burger, Ella gets a kids’ pack, which is really just a cheap, tiny, barely noticeable burger and about three thin chips, and I get a small veg-and-cheese pizza and thin chips. Mum has barely tapped ‘Done’ before the robot whizzes into its corner, then zooms back to complete its next order.
Mum looks down at me. “We’re order 64.”
There goes ten dollars for some scrappy meal with barely any good in it. All because of Ella.
The screen flashes, then displays ‘ORDER 64 IS READY’. An almost-human voice calls out the same thing just in case we’re blind or didn’t notice the flashing signs everywhere.
Mum walks to the order bench, snatching the burger, pizza, thin chips, and kids’ pack in her left hand. With her right hand, she turns on her AR screen, flicking through the apps until she finds the hover-seat app and orders two and a baby seat. Ella can’t stop whining about not being able to watch the silly waiter bot run around the place. Silly four-year-old.
Mum grabs our hands and takes us towards the street. “The hover-seats are here! Come on, Ella. I promise we’ll see the waiter bots again.”
That seems to shut her up, but Ella’s eyes are still pointedly on McFerguson’s as the hover-seats fly through the streets at Mum’s command.

Eventually, we arrive at the landing dock on our floor of the apartment. Once her face is recognised, Mum pushes the door open and lets us in first. I press the light button and it flicks on, illuminating the central room. Mum pulls our meal to the table, setting it down in the middle. Ella’s hungry hands snatch the kids’ pack within a second of Mum putting it down and rips the packaging open.
I calmly take my pizza and thin chips, biting into the juicy vegetable ‘meat’. It tastes nothing like the chicken at Nando’s – way better than any vegetable-made concoction – but still amazing mixed with melted cheese and bread.
My thin chips are gone before the pizza is. The crunchy delights vanish before you have the time to appreciate them, so addictive you don’t realise until the packet is empty. My pizza is gone soon after. It’s all we really eat, all anyone eats.
Apparently they used to have a huge variety of things – all kinds of fruit and vegetables and meat and desserts. And it’s all lost. Part of me doesn’t care, but another part wishes we had it all back. Another part of me wants more.

THE END:
My heart pounds as I haul myself over another steep rock. I’m so close. So close, yet so far. The hardest part is yet to come.
Meanwhile, I’ve got to survive the decreasing air supply, the risk of falling to my death, and the potential for a catastrophic landslide. All of which will obviously ruin my hopes and dreams of being the first to conquer the huge Mt. Skeile. Just five hundred metres, five hundred metres in which every single metre could mean doom.
My legs trembling, I mentally prepare for the climb. Five hundred straight metres of rock. I can do this. I’ve been training for five years for this. Five years is more than enough to master this climb. Five years is more than enough to give my trembling legs enough strength to pull me to the top. I will be the first. I will be the best.
I will finish this.
I hook my hands into the best positions I can get out of this mountain, giving my legs as much height as possible with something secure. My heart races. Almost unconsciously, I search for a good grip for my hands and lock myself as securely as I can onto the side of the mountain. My breath comes back to me in hot puffs from the air mask. I have enough for three more hours.
My arms and legs move, almost one, united in a starving desire to reach the top of the mountain, to be the first to conquer this huge challenge. My hands are almost numb, probably cut even through my tough gloves, my legs still shaking. I have to do this. I must.
So many other people have died here. What makes me think I’m better- no. I can’t think that. I have to push- what if I fall, and everything is gone?
I freeze, numb.
I try to reach higher, to pull myself out of this drowning current of thoughts. It doesn’t work.
My hand comes loose. My feet come loose. My heart freezes with the ice.
I’m falling. Gravity seizes me like a snake, curling me, constricting what I had left of hope. It’s gone. Hopeless. Powerless.
I’m going to hit the ground. I’m going to die.
But I don’t hit the ground – at least, not a slam of lethal shock and pain.
Instead, I’m comforted by something soft. Cotton. A mattress. I’m awake. Light pours through the window. I’m alive. Awake. I’m okay.
I still have hope.

WEEKLY 4

ANCIENT TIMES
“London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down,
London bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.

The seer has seen a bad omen, bad omen, bad omen,
The seer has seen a bad omen,
My fair lady.

A dying world is what she says, what she says, what she says,
A dying world is what she says,
My fair lady.

There is nothing we can do, we can do, we can do,
There is nothing we can do,
My fair lady.

Hope to die before this comes, b’fore this comes, b’fore this comes,
Hope to die before this comes,
My dear lady.
(103 words)
— — —
Create a mythological creature based on a real-life animal or bird, and write a fictional factfile on it! Your factfile should consist of a drawing or image (doesn’t have to be your own, but remember to credit the artist or photographer) and 400 words of writing.

Based on: whale
Name: Theta Whale (theta: eighth letter of the greek alphabet), eight-finned whale

The Theta Whale may look like a humpback whale with eight fins. It does not have a dorsal fin, and its eight pectoral fins are shorter than the humpback whale. Its tail has a willowy feel, and is larger. It is the color of blue-gray when they are born, which turns into the darker russian blue as they get older. It is as big as a sperm whale.
It lives in the deepest part of the sea and is rarely seen, coming out only when it is twilight. The Theta Whale's diet consists of stardust and clouds. Theta Whales hibernate in the summer. Some will bury themselves in the sand, and the crabs there will shed their shells to protect the Theta Whale’s den. The crabs feast on the Theta Whale’s poo. They have a symbiotic relationship.
Other Theta Whales hibernate in the sky. Almost none of them do this now, as of pollution. Those that do will morph into clouds and drift around the sky.
In spring, Theta Whales begin to wake up from their hibernation.
Autumn is Theta Whales’ mating season.
Unlike Humpback Whales, Theta Whales are more peaceful. They do not fight for partners, but more of the males to impress the females. The males would dance, an alluring movement of loops and spins. They would then create a unique call, each male a different one, and if the female is impressed, she would repeat the call until they meet.
They mate like humpback whales, usually under water. They only reproduce one baby at a time.
The Theta Whale's archenemy would probably be the giant squid, as the squid mistakes its large size for the sperm whale. Whenever the Theta Whale is threatened, it will either a) escape – they can swim around 50 miles per hour, fly at 80 – or b) fight. This is their last solution. But if they are forced to do so, they will headbutt the enemy, then fly upwards at maximum speed, and all downwards at an alarming speed, using their speed and gravity, plunging into the sea, downward until the pressure crushes the enemy.
Currently, there are only eighty Theta Whales in this world. Humans hunt for their meat, poo (digested clouds and stars are a beautiful crystalized poop), eyes (religious people believe that the Theta Whale’s eyes help the person who owns it see their fortune) and many more. Light pollution makes the Theta Whale unable to locate a star, and clouds are disappearing because of other pollution.
(432 words)
— — —
DISTANT PAST

Sleeping and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming
Of terrible nightmares that haunt the lady
The beauty of sleep turns to horror
She’s dreaming, dreaming, dreaming
Of terrible nightmares that never leave she
(29 words)
— — —
Write a tragic ending for your most beloved character in 500 words. Don’t worry, you don’t have to make it canon!

Esme and Aera!

Aera looked on in horror as the dark sludgy substance that represented nightmares crawled across the ground.
“Lola…” she whispered.
Her ex had changed completely.
Lola had beautiful brown locks, and eyes of molten gold. Aera easily fell for her.
Now, she has become a monster.
Sludgy, oily black hair that was the source of the nightmares. Those golden eyes were crying infinite amounts of oil, waterfalls and fountains of it.
“I… never wanted… this to happen,” she coughed. “I can't help it. My gift is revenge and nightmares. I get… jealous easily.”
Aera caught movement from the corner of her eye. “Esme!” The bloody female that was obviously of extreme beauty was barely breathing.
Aera held the body close to her. “Stay with me.”
Then, she rolled up her sleeves, exposing her tattoos. She muttered something under her breath. The tattoos began to move, crawling off her skin.
The Chinese dragon she engraved in her skin grew, as big enough to reach the heavens.
More mythical creatures did the same thing, slithering off her skin, and growing ever so large.
They sped to Lola, attacking her from every angle possible.
Aera barely noticed. With shaking hands, she took out a vial of precious liquid inside Esme’s pocket.
“Oh, please tell me this will work.”
She uncorked it, opened Esme’s mouth and dripped a drop of the liquid onto her tongue.
Immediately, her wounds covered up, her joints healed, color returned to her face, her arm back in the right angle.
Then, her eyes opened, the rosy pink iris like heaven to Aera. “Aera-” a squeal caught them off. Aera stared at her arms. All the tattoos were back, which meant they were defeated.
“I hate you both,” Lola whispered.
Black sludge surged towards them. In a blink of an eye, Aera was up, holding the oily sludge with a barrier. She couldn't let them touch them or the nightmares and horrors would take them over again.
The sludge retreated.
“Lola, please-” it was Esme, charm seeping into her mellifluous voice.
The sludge then formed into horses, charging toward the couple. Esme twirled her finger, a pink sword slicing through the mares, the sludge falling to the ground.
“I know we hurt you-” Esme continued.
Lola screeched. “Yes you did! You were my friend!”
She raised her hands. A wave of oil raised her above their heads. The wave crashed onto them. By then, the couple were back to back, and created a double barrier.
The sludge covered them, revealing horrible images of regret, jealousy, death and misfortune.
Aera and Esme hugged, relying on each other, the only person keeping them from giving up.
Then, without warning, the barrier broke, and they were engulfed in the suffocating oil.
They lost each other.
Aera was walking in a possibility.
What if she never met Esme?
Whatever images the sludge showed her, she didn't see. She was crouching, her eyes were closed, hands over her ears, like when she was younger all those time ago.
When the sludge cleared, Esme was lying unmoving in front of her. She seemed untouched, but…
When Aera touched her, her body was cold.
“Oh Lord. No… no!” she choked on her words.
Esme stirred. “Aera…” she breathed. Then the only thing she was afraid of came true before her eyes.
Her beloved was turning to dust, flying in the wind before her eyes. It was a kind of dying, Esme had told her.
Aera sobbed uncontrollably. “It had to happen,” Lola said, appearing behind her all of a sudden.
“It's… all… your fault,” Aera murmured, as the ashes of Esme slowly floated away in the wind.
Then another wave of sludge engulfed her. This time, she breathed in it, swallowing it, welcoming it into her body, her mind.
After all, her only pillar of life was gone.
(641 words)


Davy Jones's locker

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
consign us all to Davy Jones's locker
Dear beautiful
Sea
Will collect us for payment
One fateful day.

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Consign us all to Davy Jones's locker
The alluring
Sea
She has hidden intentions
That comes to light.

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Consign us all to Davy Jones's locker
Mesmerizing
Sea
She does not have mercy to
Spare

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Consign us all to Davy Jones's locker
We have no, no
Escape
Life, much too, way too precious
That is why
The Sea wants it.
(113 words)

Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect? We go through day to day life often without understanding the consequences of our actions. If you’re working on a longer story (I’m not but eh), write 500 words where a main or side character makes a trivial choice that ends in a disaster.

“Azzie! Come on, you're going to be late!” Azalea's mother called.
“I'm almost done!” she replied.
Azalea grabbed her packed bag and tumbled downstairs, already hearing the bus engine outside the house.
She grabbed a bun and shot out of the house into the bus. “Azalea!” a dirty blonde waved.
“Harper!” Azalea sat beside the girl.
The bus began to move. Suddenly, a thought struck her. “Oh no… the amulet!”
Harper paled. “Should I stop the bus?”
I mean, what are the consequences? Azalea thought. I put it in a safe place. No one will find it, right? She shrugged it off. “Nah… It should be safe.”
The amulet they were talking about contained the spirit of a great evil, if unleashed, will cause great grief for the world.
Buuuttt… It’s in a safe place, right–?
-
The amulet did not penetrate Azalea’s thoughts the entire day.
When it did, she would push the negative outcomes away, repeating:
It’s in a safe place, it’s in a safe place, it’s in a safe place
But when she came back home from school, it was gone.
-
“HARPER!!” She screamed in the phone. “IT’S… F-RICKING GONE!”
“Holy- AZZIE PLEASE MY EARDRUMS,” was what Harper said.
“I searched EVERYWHERE. WHERE HAS IT GONE???!!”
Then the doorbell rang. “I’m outside your house,” said Harper.
-
Half an hour later, the amulet was not found.
They were sitting on Azalea’s bed, wondering and thinking and contemplating.
Then Azalea’s phone rang. She checked the number, but it wasn’t shown.
“Hello?” Azalea asked tentatively.
“I have the amulet. Hehe. Your house is so easy to break in!” Then he hung up. Later, a notification appeared, sending an address.
The girls looked at each other. “Welp, let’s go.”
-
They took a taxi to the location, which was only ten minutes away.
Harper rang the doorbell, and the door was immediately opened by a slender man.
“Welcome! I’m so glad you came to participate.”
“Participate?” Azalea repeated.
“Why, participate in my little game, of course!”
-
They entered the house and were greeted with a waiter holding a tray of mocktails.
“Um, no thanks,” said Azalea. Harper shrugged. “Why not?” she took a sip and put it back, a sour look on her face. “Nah.”
Then a spotlight shone on the same man that welcomed them in. “My dearest participants, welcome again. This game is called ‘Win that Amulet!’”
“The heck??” Harper exclaimed.
Then, the spotlight switched off, the lights turned on and humanoid robots were lowered down from platforms.
After they were successfully lowered, they charged.
-
Shocked, the duo just stared at the robots before reacting quickly. Harper summoned her cute scary demons– Charlie and Coco– Charlie ate the closest robot to them without hesitation. It licked its wide mouth. “Yums.”
Coco expanded and crushed the oncoming robots.
Azalea made aggressive vines emerge from the ground. She pushed her hands forward, and the aggressive plants reached to the robots and curled around them, snapping their metal joints like they were chopsticks.
The lights dimmed again. “Congratulations. You have passed the first level.”
“What? It’s not done?”
(514 words)
— — —
DISTANT FUTURE
Curtains by Ed Sheeran

Don’t be afraid,
Don’t close the curtains, my dear
Lady
You may be afraid
You may want to close
The curtains on the world
Lock yourself from the outside
The world may end soon
But you still have a life with me
My dear lady
My fair one
Don’t close the curtains
On the world, your life, on me
Everything
Will be fine.
(63 words)
— — —
The future is full of new culinary possibilities! Write 400 words on the food you may find at a diner in the distant future of Galaxswc.

The future holds many possibilities, but I would especially like to imagine the delicious foods that the future might hold. I’d like to think that if you were to eat one of the foods the future world prepared, you could taste every delicacy in the world, at the same time.
I shall use Malaysia as an example, as my friend lives there, and that the aforementioned country has a beautiful mixture of cultures.
After some research, it is known that the nasi lemak is one of the most popular. Now, this dish is usually served with rice cooked in coconut milk, on a pandan leaf, sometimes with a chicken, cucumber and spicy paste.
Another example, everyone should know this dish, it is an American dish: biscuits and gravy! To others, this may sound absolutely disgusting. This dish consists of soft dough biscuits covered in white gravy (sawmill gravy), made from the drippings of cooked pork sausage, flour, milk, and often (but not always) bits of sausage, bacon, ground beef, or other meat.
One more, this Italian one, pizza! Hmmm… let’s say, the pizza margherita. It is a typical Neapolitan pizza, made with San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, fresh basil, salt, and extra-virgin olive oil.
Perhaps, in the future, the normal fried rice you may eat every day will be fried in coconut milk, served with biscuits dipped in melted San Marzano tomatoes and mozzarella cheese. Maybe sliced mangoes for dessert?
I would like to think that in the future, there are no types of discrimination: racism, colorism, sexism etc. There will be no poor people, and everyone has an equal position.
People will be paid equally, and everyone will get to enjoy the same foods.
I do hope this isn’t a pipe dream.
But, back to eating, let’s discuss the places that may serve these foods. Restaurants? I suppose that the menu will be incredibly diverse (and expensive), after all, these are different cultures we are talking about. The chefs are extremely experienced in their position, and possess the ability to conjure up concoctions of amazing foods, keeping them delicious, colorful and interesting at the same time. Where I live, our technology isn’t advanced, and I do not know much of the other technologies outside our country. Maybe, these foods will be served on a teleporting plate! (wow) Each table will have two disks where the food will be served. The chef will put the food on the teleporting plate, choose the table number and the particles of the food will be teleported to the chosen table.
I do think we have much to improve, food, technology and hopefully, society.
(440 words)

THE END
The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Bequeth us all to Davy Jones's locker
Dear beautiful
Sea
Will collect us for payment
One fateful day.

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Bequeath us all to Davy Jones's locker
The alluring
Sea
She has hidden intentions
That comes to light.

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Bequeath us all to Davy Jones's locker
Mesmerizing
Sea
She does not have mercy to
Spare

The deep sea, the dead reefs
Will one day
Bequeath us all to Davy Jones's locker
However, she
Sea
Will be sure to send us to
A beautiful heaven.
(108 words)
— — —
Write a 250-word narrative where you woke up, and it was all a dream.
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGG–
SLAM!
That was me slamming the alarm clock.
Drool on my pillow, right hand clutching my teddy bear, the other underneath the pillow. My body was tangled in the blankets. I looked at my clock with loathing, how I hated it at the moment…
6a.m. Ugh, I had forgotten to turn it off! It was the holidays after all.
It took a while before I remembered.
What an adventure! I needed it to continue. It sure wasn’t done yet… was it?
But I knew I couldn’t fall back asleep. I recounted my dream.
Ancient times, distant past, current day, distant future, the end…
And a voice telling me to wake up.
And here I am… woken up.
Before the memory of the wildest dream I had disappeared, I grabbed a notebook and a pen and started to write.
Writing every detail of the dream adventure.
Every. Single. Detail.
When I was done, I looked at the clock again.
8a.m. Amazing. I was writing for two hours straight.
At that moment, the dream started to fade. I didn’t want it to. What if the things I wrote didn’t explain enough? Would I forget everything?
I looked at my writing again. Aera and Esme… dead? How tragic. Harper and Azalea… trapped in a fight, unable to continue. I still had time before my entire family woke up. Perhaps I could continue them. I also realized that I wrote a song. Reading it, I felt myself cringe. Yikes.
But it was a nice dream.
(254 words)


| Path 1: ANCIENT, Prompt 1 | Path 2: PAST, Prompt 1 | Path 3: DAY, Prompt 2 | Path 4: FUTURE, Prompt 1 |

There are too many of these. Also you don't need to write an entire essay guys

<OUO> :: motion  // this is gary he protects my siggy from evil kumquats 

(( ( •) ) _ (( •))    :: #000000   // this is Michael incase gary cant defeat the kumquats

July 29, 2023

A light sea breeze blew through my tacky hair, reminding me of my dry lips. I still needed to get supplies for a reservoir.

Just a few more extra shifts at the thrift store. I just had to hold out for a little bit longer.

Everything was going to be fine.

I opened the latch on the roof of my house and settled myself on a chair onlooking the vast murky waters only a few feet below me. Humidity made the air stuffy, along with the slight smell of salt. I ran my fingers along the side of my waterproof shorts. The water was rising still, almost covering half of my house. I needed to get more equipment soon.

Distant memories of dry ground and sprawling fields whisper in the edge of my mind. No matter how much technology improved with the changing times, I couldn’t help but long for a home that wasn’t half waterlogged.

“Mom.”

Taylor walked over to me with a tentative look on her face. I had hardly noticed the sound of her motorboat arriving at the roof. She sat down and said, “can we talk?”

“What?” I asked, wondering why she appeared so nervous.

Taylor took a deep breath. “I’m evicting you.”

The words almost didn’t compute in my brain. “Wha- evicting me? That- is this some sort of joke?” I could feel my face reddening, and not from the heat.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” Her voice was firm. In one of her hands were a few waterproof papers and a pen.

“This can’t be real!” My heart was quickening with panic. I could almost see all of my future plans falling apart. I was taking three steps back before even beginning to take one step forward. “Why? You promised we would stick together– that you would take care of me. You–” my voice was beginning to crack. “You said you would never leave me alone…”

Taylor’s face hardened. “Me? It’s always about me. It’s always about what I say or promise. What about you? You’ve done nothing for me! I’ve given you so much and you’ve given nothing back. It’s time you leave.”

“But… I’m paying the rent and everything. I’ve been nothing but compliant.” My voice was sounding more desperate. “Do you not have the money to own the house or something?”

“Oh, I have plenty of money,” Taylor said bitterly. “No thanks to you. I just want you out of my life. Things will be better if I don’t have to worry about you anymore. It’s for the wellbeing of your dear daughter.” I could almost feel the spite in her last sentence.

Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I silently willed for them not to spill over. “I- I know I haven’t always supported you the way I wanted to. I know I didn’t have the money to help you. But… but I tried my hardest.” I took a moment to sniff and wipe my eyes. “I tried to get you connections, told them, ‘I know she doesn’t seem very welcoming, but she’s just shy.’ I begged that publishing company to take you. Tay, you were everything to me.” I was on my knees with my head cast down now. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

Whatever last glimpse of my child had long disappeared now. Taylor threw the papers at my feet. “I don’t need you, mom. And you shouldn’t need me.”

I lay on the roof of my house for what seemed to be hours after that, with only the echo of bird calls and my own tears to comfort me.

How many more steps backward before I take one forward?

I curled up on my side and watched the squirrels scamper from roof to roof.

Was everything going to be okay?

640 words

It all began with a soggy paper airplane. Chizuru was working on homework; her little sister was watching the drops of water on the window from the rain last night, and talking to them in an annoying voice. Sakura said something to her, but Chizuru doubted it was important so she just ignored her. Thankfully Sakura didn’t press on. Chizuru felt a wave of relief wash over her when Sakura stopped talking and she was able to concentrate.
When she glanced back at Sakura, it was just in time to see her climbing out the window to a very steep bit of roof over the front door. Chizuru’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Sakura! Stop!” She raced over and tried to pull her back in. It was too late; she got pulled out the window too. The girls screamed as they clawed at the shingles, trying to get back to the window, but they were slippery from the rain. Sakura grabbed something white off the roof– a soggy paper airplane–and then they were falling. Chizuru screamed and squeezed her eyes shut. Her instincts told her to protect Sakura, but before she could, she landed on something. It took her a second to register that what they hadn’t landed on asphalt, but something smooth, thin, and flexible. In fact, it had been a very gentle landing.
Hesitantly she opened her eyes and immediately knew she was dreaming. Because there was no way they were ten feet in the air–and going higher– riding a giant paper airplane.
“Isn’t it awesome?!”
Sakura leaned to the left which made the paper airplane tilt left and made Chizuru queasy.
“Careful!” she yelped as they rose higher and higher in the air. “There’s no seatbelts on this thing.”
“Well then don’t fall off,” Sakura laughed. “It wants to take us somewhere.”
“It’s a paper airplane. It shouldn’t want stuff. We shouldn’t be able to ride it.”
“Stop worrying about the logic of it so much,” Sakura told her.
Chizuru stopped worrying about the logic when she realized with horror they were heading straight for Declan Giroux’s house. Otherwise known as the cutest boy in eighth grade.
“We have to get away from here!” Chizuru shouted.
“It wants us here,” Sakura insisted then told her to duck. Chizuru did just in time and narrowly avoided hitting her head on the window frame. They were inside the house, and not just in any room, they were in Declan’s room, which was full of drawings, sculptures, weird machines, blueprints, and paper airplanes. Chizuru watched as the giant paper airplane they had ridden on shrunk and joined the rest of the paper airplanes. There was no escape now.
The door opened and Chizuru’s body decided to just freeze as she came face to face with Declan Giroux.
He blinked. “Chizuru. Wh-what are you doing here?”
All the blood had drained from Chizuru’s face but now it quickly rushed back. “I-it’s n-not what it looks like, I promise,” she stammered, wishing the floor would open and swallow her right there.
Declan looked amused. “Alright then tell me. You know, I’m very good at believing the unbelievable.
This was true. Despite the fact that Declan was nice, really cute, and good at problem-solving and thinking outside the box, he always had his head in the clouds. Once he’d tricked her into joining a hunt for Bigfoot.
“Your paper airplane saved us!” Sakura launched into the story of what happened, though Chizuru really wished that Sakura had left out the part about her screaming like a baby. Oddly enough, or perhaps not very oddly considering it was Declan, he seemed to believe Sakura.
Declan picked up his paper airplane. “Really? These old things?”
“It’s true,” Chizuru said hesitantly. “Like Sakura said, we were going to fall off the roof then the paper airplane saved us.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”
“I don’t, but I know what I saw.”
“She used to believe in magic,” Sakura said.
Declan nodded, looking at Chizuru in a way she didn’t quite understand. “You used to have the biggest imagination. You were always drawing in your notebook. What made you stop?”
The fact that she was in eighth grade now and too old for that? The fact that she needed to focus on more serious stuff? Or was it the fact that her mother had died last Christmas? Chizuru didn’t answer. “Look, I’m sorry we broke in by accident. Could we just leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”
Declan smirked and Chizuru groaned inside. “But you don’t like pretending.”
“Please,” she begged.
Declan smiled. “My mom made cookies. Come eat some. Don’t worry Chizuru, they’re just circles; I know fun and interesting shapes don’t seem logical to you.” He and Sakura laughed. Chizuru’s face went bright red and she clenched her fists inside her pockets. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t always super nice. Nevertheless, they decided to take him up on his offer of cookies, which were quite delicious. While Sakura talked to Declan, Chizuru nibbled on a cookie, looking out the window. The sky was cloudy but she couldn’t get herself to try and find shapes in them like she did when she was younger.
Suddenly there was loud barking and frightened yelping. Chizuru watched as a pack of dogs all chased a fox. Sakura and Declan ran over to see what the commotion was about.
“Hey! Leave that fox alone! Chizuru, we have to help it!”
Chizuru agreed but how? Eventually they managed to get the fox in Declan’s garage which was empty and shut the door just before the dogs got there. The three kids all stood near the door to the house, watching the fox. All of them were breathing heavily.
The fox looked up at them, and for a second Chizuru was worried it might attack, but then it did something she never would have expected. It spoke. The words were in Japanese which she didn’t know a ton of, but she quickly realized the fox was thanking them. Chizuru just stood there dumbfounded. First a giant paper airplane, now a talking fox? What on earth was going on today? Sakura translated for Declan.
“No offense, but how can you talk? Foxes can’t normally talk.” Declan said.
He spoke in English, but apparently the fox understood. She spoke again in Japanese. Chizuru did her best to translate. “She says she’s a kitsune. She doesn’t know how she ended up here, but she wants to go home.”
“We’ll help her,” Sakura said immediately.
“We don’t even know where her home is or how to get there,” Chizuru argued.
The fox began describing her home, though Chizuru couldn’t quite translate all of it. “It sounds like it might be Japan. But we can’t afford a ticket to Japan.”
“We’ll take the giant paper airplane,” Sakura said excitedly.
Somehow Sakura got one of Declan’s paper airplanes to grow enormous and all four of them got on it. “Take us to this kitsune’s home,” Sakura said.
The paper airplane lifted off and they flew high into the clouds and although Chizuru was terrified, she had to admit it was beautiful. Gently they descended but everything looked strange. Old fashioned cars, buildings, and palm trees lined the streets. A movie theater advertised Mickey Mouse and Bambi. Oddly dressed men and women shouted angrily, holding signs. When Chizuru saw the signs she felt her heart drop.
“We don’t want Japanese in our country!” A woman shouted.
“Make them pay for Pearl Harbor!” her husband said.
“They don’t belong in America!”
Chizuru felt something squeezing her hand and realized it was Declan’s hand. “Oh god…I’m so sorry.”
“I know this place now,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s where my grandmother grew up, well, until…” she trailed off.
They flew into a neighborhood and stopped in front of a house.
A uniformed officer knocked on the door and a Japanese-American man opened the door. “You've seen the signs telling you to be prepared to go to a relocation center.” the officer said gruffly“You and your family have ten minutes to finish getting ready then you’re coming with me.”
“Please, my family’s been here for three generations. My life’s work is here.”
“You think President Roosevelt cares?” the officer spat. “You should have thought about that before your friends bombed Pearl Harbor.”
“They aren’t my friends. I’m just as American as you” The officer slapped him, but the man who was Chizuru’s great-grandfather flinched only a little.
“Daddy?” A little girl called, nervously from the dining room.
“Back inside Keiko. Tatsuki will help you pack your stuff.”
Keiko, Chizuru’s grandmother, looked straight at her. “It was such an ugly world we lived in. All crammed together with barely any food for a crime we didn’t commit. The soldiers wouldn’t let us leave. We lost everything. Make the world something beautiful. You deserve it after all the ugliness our family went through.”
Tears pricked Chizuru’s eyes. “I will Grandma.”
Tears ran down her face as they flew away. She hugged Sakura. If they’d been born in a different time this is what they would have gone through.
The paper airplane took them back to Declan’s house. “What!?” Sakura shouted. “I told you to take us to this kitsune’s home!”
Chizuru smiled. “Don’t worry Sakura. I know what to do.”
They landed inside Declan’s bedroom. The kitsune curled up forlornly. “I’ll never go home.”
“I’ll get you home,” Chizuru promised. Make the world something beautiful. She used to believe in magic. She turned to Sakura. “You can make paper cranes, right? I need you to teach Declan how. We need a thousand.”
A huge smile came to Sakura’s face. “You’re making a wish!” She and Declan ran to grab paper. Chizuru found a huge piece of paper and some drawing supplies. “Tell me what your world is like?” she asked the kitsune.
It had been so long since she last drew but with flourishing lines and strokes of color, the paper transformed into a beautiful scene. A misty forest with a peach grove and a cherry grove and a babbling brook with a natural bridge over it. And many, many kitsunes and other magical creatures.
“It’s perfect,” the kitsune breathed. By the time the drawing was finished, Sakura and Declan followed by his parents and Chizuru’s father and several of their neighbors all ran upstairs, arms full of paper cranes.
“We have a thousand,” her father said, then he saw the drawing. “Oh Chizuru…I was so wrong to say you could never be an artist.”
They set the cranes down and the Chizuru made a wish. “I made a beautiful world, just like you said, grandma. Now I wish this world could become a real home for this kitsune.”
They watched the ink rising off the page, swirling in the air in an intricate design. Her hands found Declan’s and Sakura’s. The kitsune stepped forward and became part of the swirls of ink. They watched as images of kitsunes and peach trees floated in the air. Then they settled back on the page before it all disappeared in a beautiful flash of color. Sakura squealed and hugged Chizuru.
Declan smiled and kissed her cheek, which made her blush deeply. “I knew there was still a magical artist in you.”
One week later, it rained again. But this time Chizuru didn’t stay inside grumbling about it. Instead she, Declan, and Sakura all laughed and danced, and they didn’t care about being serious as they jumped in the puddles. And when the ripples settled, they saw the magic that was within all of their imaginations. And somewhere, Chizuru knew the kitsune was playing in the rain, and soon it would find a rainbow. And with the colors of that rainbow, Chizuru would make even more art. “I’m gonna make the world beautiful.”

Final Weekly (2644 words):

Song (283 words):

The rain falls down softly, to us it seems calming,
But to a spider it’s a flood that washes away everything,
When the sun comes out, what’s left are shallow puddles
Yet these lakes remain to some and cause them many troubles
We never consider those who hide down below
The ones who nearly drown when the spouts begin to flow
Nature has its beauties if you choose to look
You can’t learn everything by just reading a book

If you take a look around, you’ll see secrets hidden everywhere,
Ones that are pretty, ones that are warm, even ones that will give you a scare…

You can think outside the box, try something new,
‘cause if you never get out there, you’ll never see the morning dew
Try to think outside the box, understand what’s real, understand what’s not,
And in the end, when you’ve seen the earth, you’ll see what our wonderful world has brought!

And to understand nature’s sons and daughters,
You have to cross bridges over troubled waters
Even the darkest creatures play their role
On the world’s food chain, the totem pole
To truly understand nature’s sons and daughters,
You have to cross bridges over troubled waters,
Storms to hurricanes, sparks creating flames,
Seeing the beauty isn’t enough, you have to know what is rough

You can think outside the box, try something new,
Look and learn how massive redwoods and pink and white hollyhocks grew
Try to think outside the box, understand what’s real, understand what’s not,
The outstretched deserts, the thick green jungles, the rolling oceans, you have been taught
The world has secrets if you choose to look,
You can’t learn everything from a book

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Ancient Times: Mythological Creature factfile (406 words):
(Based on a bear)



The Gruffle is known as the protector of the forest, and for good reason. It regularly patrols its home, making sure that the circle of life is balanced and that no outside forces are threatening the flora and fauna. It has a powerful stature, already standing at 8 feet on all fours, but can also intimidate its enemies by standing on its hind legs, reaching a height of 20 feet. It has two pairs of eyes: the larger pair sees the world normally, while the smaller one sees in infrared, allowing the Gruffle to track its enemies through the thick forest. It’s diet is comprised simply of fruit juices, which it obtains by sticking one of its fangs, the only teeth it has, into a fruit and sucking it up like a straw. In combat, these fangs have an almost vampiric effect, sucking the life force out of whatever the Gruffle is fighting and using it to empower itself, making it almost impossible to defeat once it latches onto its target. It is covered in lush fur, with the exception of its back paws and tails, which are only covered with a thin layer of fuzz. The amount of pigment in the fur can be altered at will, allowing the Gruffle to change its hues in order to better blend in with its environment. It can also use its fur to comfort and calm young creatures in the forest. The three diamonds on its tails represent the three special trees that provide infinite energy to the forest, and the amount of saturation in them represent the health of the trees, allowing the Gruffle to quickly know when the balance of the forest is in trouble. It has purple blood, which is the result of it being imbued with the forest’s energy, and it is able to make the blue markings along its body glow at will. Although it exhibits a calm, apathetic demeanor in the wild, it has a kind, playful side that it shows in safety, among those it trusts. It can never be considered ferocious, as it maintains its calm in battle, using its incredible mind to determine the best path to remove the threat. This way, it never poses a risk to those it protects. There seems to only be one Gruffle in the universe, as its immortality prevents the need to have offspring, but there may be Gruffle variations in other locations.

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Distant Past: Tragic Event with Happy Ending (500 words):

The earthquake had already dealt extensive physical damage, but it seemed like it would also deal emotional damage.
They hung on the edge of the cliff that had formed when the ground had split. It seemed like something out of a movie, yet it was now very real for them. They grabbed onto the cliff with all the energy that they had, their feet clawing at the rock wall to try and find some sort of foothold so that they could get up, yet they couldn’t. The only thing they could do was call for help, specifically for their best friend and soulmate. She had been caught under some rubble, but soon freed herself and ran to her friend’s side, grabbing onto them and struggling to try and pull them up, but being unable to. She called for more help, but the area of town that they were in was silent. She looked back at her friend, who looked back at her, exhausted and about ready to give up. She kept pulling, but then the chunk of ground that they were holding onto crumbled.
She barely got off of the broken ground, holding onto her companion’s hand. This was all that was keeping them from falling into the abyss. They stared at each other silently, both hoping that this wasn’t real, and that everything was going to be okay, but deep down inside them they knew that it was very real, and very bad. The girl let out a small yelp as she slipped a bit closer to the edge, a bit closer to losing her friend, and maybe even herself. The panic in her eyes as she looked at them let them know what they had to do. They grabbed onto what they could, and forced themselves up a bit so that their friend could grab onto them more securely. They then whispered “Thank you for everything,” and before she could react, pushed themselves off the cliff, taking some of the frail ground with them. Their friend yelled their name, bursting into sobs, as they fell. Before they passed out from terror, the last thing they thought was how glad they were that they didn’t bring their friend down with them.
Their friend sobbed on the edge of the ravine, unable to process anything. Someone finally came over to her, and she yelled something nearly incomprehensible at them about how losing her friend was their fault. Either way, she was heartbroken, paralyzed by what had happened.
When the victim of the chasm came to, they found themself on the remains of a pillow fort swallowed by the hole, along with a mattress and a pile of autumn leaves. They processed this for a second, before sitting up sharply, thinking about who they had left behind. Picking up a fallen flashlight, they turned it on and waved it around, eventually being rescued. When they found their friend again, they shared a hug that went on for what seemed like eternity.

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Current Day: 3 SusWC Prompts (783 words):

1: Throne Room - Flashback (335 words):
As Peach looked at her doodles of Potensi, she remembered something from when she was a young Eevee, before all of this cursed business had happened.
Her and Potensi, who was just a Riolu, were running through the forest, the cherry blossoms falling on their heads. They were laughing and having so much fun, before they tripped and fell into a pile of blossoms. They giggled some more, Peach gently pawing at Potensi, before a growl made them both jump and look behind them in fear. There was a Rinasitan Persian there, angry that there were two noisy children in his territory. The two hadn’t realized how far they had traveled, and were in the territory of a pack of wild, mildly uncivilized Pokémon. The Persian was joined by an Ekans, who hissed loudly and prepared to attack. Peach screamed as they shot out at them, but Potensi jumped in front of her, kicking the snake away with a small burst of flame. The two fled, followed by the swift cat Pokémon, who blasted a sparkly beam of light at them. It hit Peach, knocking her down as the Persian ran to bite her. Then, a bright flash blinded the two of them, and the Persian was swiftly knocked back by a sphere of pure orange energy. He stumbled to his feet, but when he saw what was attacking him, he fled. Peach stumbled to her feet, looking up at the Pokémon that was nearly four times her height. It was Potensi, except he was a fully evolved Lucario now. He grinned at his best friend, and Peach smiled back, giggling as she was scooped up and rushed back to their village, both hoping to not get in trouble for wandering so far out.
Peach rubbed her eyes from the memory. She wished that Potensi had been able to see her evolution like she had with his, and missed him a lot. She hoped that with Sky and Forge’s help, they could find him again.

2: Battlegrounds - Revenge (242 words):
Forge sighed dramatically, looking out of his rock cage. He wished that he could burn his way out, like he had burned his way out of everything, but the rock wasn’t going anywhere. He glanced at his companions, who were all trying to plot an escape route without him, before looking at the leader of the ‘Healers’, whose icy blue eyes pierced into his soul. “What’s your issue?” he called out angrily, causing the Noivern-Guzzlord fusion to stand up and approach him, looming over the Charizard. “Why do you want to kill us? What have we ever done to hurt you?” “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” the creature responded, lashing her tail, which growled at him. “You don’t remember? You burnt down my house, and my parents.” Everyone looked at Forge, who gasped. This was the little kid who he had met when he was first cursed! “Gosh, I’m really sorry,” he whispered, now understanding why this ‘mon had created a whole movement to purge the world of the cursed. “No apologies can repair this damage,” she hissed, “and soon you’ll finally be gone! And I’ll rid Rinasita of all of you beasts, before any more Pokémon will suffer the way I did!” She narrowed her eyes at Forge, who stepped away solemnly. The Healers were getting revenge on him, and all of the innocent ‘mons who had also been affected by the curse were going to die from his mistake.

3: Rec Room - Magical Transportation (206 words):
Cassi wasn’t sure why she was here, but was sure that it was for good reason.
They stood up, looking around at the castle they were now in. It was beautiful, and matched her style, covered in sparkly amber fairy lights and glowing tapestries of her favorite mythical creatures. The ground was soft, like it was all just one big pillow, and Cassi felt drawn to the big pile of pillows in the back, clambering on top of them and curling up. They ignored the fact that they were lost in some mysterious castle place, and just cuddled with the pillows, purring loudly.
”Cassiopeia?”
The cat meeped, sitting up. They looked down from their perch, surprised to see a group of tall cats watching her with pupil-less eyes. She was a little disturbed, but didn’t say anything about that out of politeness. “Hiii…?” they said, before realizing that they were in an unfamiliar place, and that they were probably sitting on someone else’s extremely cozy pillow pile. She awkwardly got down, looking up at the odd creatures around her. “Follow us,” one said, and the group walked down one of the castle’s many hallways. Cassi bounded after them, hoping that they weren’t walking towards their doom.

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Distant Future: Steampunk Object (403 words):

How would a stand mixer be powered by steam? It’s quite simple, actually. Using the magic of warmth and flames, widely mastered by whatever society water that has been poured into a compartment in the back of the contraption would be heated to a boil, creating steam. Soon, the steam will create pressure that makes the cogs in the mixer begin to spin, resulting in the mixer itself spinning. As long as water and warmth magic is added at regular intervals, the mixer will soon spin fast enough to properly stir whatever is being created. To prevent too much pressure from forming, which would cause the mixer to explode, there is a valve that can be opened to let out some of the steam. It is also highly recommend to let out all of the steam when you’re finished, as leaving the mixer running until it stops can result in it being hard to remove whatever you’ve mixed, can make a mess of whatever it was mixing, and can be an overall nightmare to clean up. Outside of the mechanical parts of it, the mixer itself is usually made with a wooden outside and a steel interior, the wood usually painted and customized by the owner. Although it is more expensive to get a steel exterior, some bakeries buy them like that in order to prevent accidents from any pyrokinetic workers. They may not be able to decorate them, and some brands engrain their name into the mixers for advertisement purposes, but safety always comes first in the steampunk world. As these machines require a large amount of steam to be powered, in areas of the city where bakeries are common, it is common for more water to be diverted to them, and it’s easier for proficient controllers of heat magic to get jobs there. Along with things like steam-powered ovens, the steampunk baking industry is very popular and can be well-paying for those who choose to aid the bigger, well-known bakeries. For home bakers, they have to rely on having a good supply of water and either knowledge of heat magic or someone close to them who can perform it. This results in a lot of heat controllers being bakers rather than those skilled in other kinds of magic or those without magic. Although the steam-powered stand mixer is really a simplistic machine, its mere existence influences a large part of society.

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Dream Narrative (269 words):

I sat up in bed, blinking a few times, before processing what had just happened. I was in a time machine, right? I went to a bunch of different places, and wrote a lot…yet it was all a dream? No two thousand and something words? I sighed dramatically, before remembering the voice that had spoken to me at The End. An immortal sky monster, right? Wasn’t there that one chasing me in November? As I thought a bit, I did remember. Jim Flabsdz, the beast that had followed me past all of those planets, trying to eat me, before singing a song when it was all over. That was why I was originally planning on not going on any adventures again…and still wouldn’t, unless that dream counted. I mean, it all checked out, right? Sky monsters are pretty immortal, and it would make sense for the remnants of starlight to shine at the end…as I got out of bed, I thought I would message Smarlls later. The ibex had a Scratch account now, after all, and could probably understand the time machine shenanigans, considering how they had helped me build it. Looking outside, my mind wandered back to the dream again. I had certainly enjoyed most of it, except maybe sobbing uncontrollably in the distant past. Maybe I could recreate the dream one day. Sing to a time machine, try to visit Jim again… Remembering their words, I went to the first piece of paper I could find and wrote myself a note to appreciate the stars. It wouldn’t hurt to take advice from a sky monster, after all.

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Save code: | Path 1: ANCIENT, Prompt 1 | Path 2: PAST, Prompt 2 | Path 3: DAY, Prompt 3 | Path 4: FUTURE, Prompt 2 |

the unknown's letter - writing comp entry

The Unknown was a famous magician, known for his magic tricks. He died 10 years ago but rumor has it that he was hiding a dark secret, but what the secret is is unknown, just like his name. Kara and Sara, 2 paid journalists that are siblings searched his house for any proof of this rumor and found a letter, buried in a stash somewhere in The Unknown pipe plumbing.

Dear whoever found this,
Hi. I’m The Unknown or Jacob Fjord. If you are reading this, then I have already died. I don’t know when. I don’t know how you manage to find this. I think I hid it quite well. But that doesn’t matter. I know I can trust you with this secret. I know you can help me.
How do I know that? Oh, I don’t really know. It just, well, occurs to me. I don’t know it for one day and then I do. I’m pretty sure I can draw your face accurately if I have the energy and time to do it. Oh dear. Well, no time to waste. Someone..might-actually probably had found this earlier. It’s up to you to stop them.
I know I should probably stop stalling…but this thing..this secret I have done is so..evil I guess that I can’t seem to admit it. Okay, I know I can do this. I shall begin.
So..it all started when I was at my previous job, before I was a magician. I was a newspaper reporter, with a pay of…I think $20 dollars an hour. Yes, it is quite little, but I was at college at that time. I didn’t need that much, especially because my parents gave all the money needed for the tuition fee. Okay, why I included that, I don’t know but it’ll be important, trust me. Anyways, I went exploring the Raptotide Forest for something to report, and then I found a wizard. Okay, I know that sounded far-fetched, but you have to believe me. I can remember the exact conversation, every detail. Okay.. here it goes.
I was quite bored at that time, with nothing to report. Nothing happened so far, so I decided to go to Raptotide Forest to talk about an animal.
I walked quite far, but then something caught my eye. It was an old cottage, wooden, and it was built in a tree. I really don’t know how to describe it, but all you need to know is that the house wasn’t a normal house.
I decided to knock on the door. After that, an old man, with a really, really long beared opened the door.
He looked like the typical garden gnome, as I said before, an old man with a really long beared. He wore a bright blue triangular hat, and held a weird cane in his hand.
“How may I help you?” He said, trotting forward.
“I’m a news reporter for Aurora Daily News, “ I replied. I took out my pen and notepad from my pocket. “I wanted to know why you live here,”
The old man eyes went wide. “Oh no. I can’t let you do that. Here, come inside. I’ll give you something if you don’t say anything. “
“I don’t accept bribes,” I replied. Okay, fine I lied. But I wanted to know what he had. What if he had 1 million dollars? Or something special?
The old man led me inside his tree-cottage-thing. It was cozy, with tints of vintage involved in it. There were a lot of plants, bookshelves and bottles filled with weird liquids, like periwinkle blue, vermilion red, mountbatten pink.
“Here, here,” The old man said, handing me a test tube with bubbly liquid of amaranth. “This makes you invisible. Take it.”
“Yeah, no,” I said, putting my notepad and pen back in my pocket. “ I’m not a kid.”
“Try it,” The man insisted.
I sniffed it. Didn’t smell like cinnamon. And why would the poison have this shade of bright pink? I didn’t get into a good college, but I do know no poison looks like..that.
Still, my heart was beating as I titled my head up and drank it. It was just a tiny sip, but I could roughly make out the taste of something rotten.
I blinked. I wasn’t dead! But I felt exposed..like I had no clothes on. I looked down…but I didn’t see my legs. I saw air.
“Woah,” I muttered. The old man jumped. “This is…”
“So, I’ll give you some of this for not reporting the article,” The old man interrupted me. “The effects lasts for 10 minutes, per vial. The amount you just drank will turn you back right..now.
He was right. Suddenly, the exposed feeling vanished. I felt normal again, with a solid body. “But how did you do that?”
“That is not part of our bargain,” The man said stubbornly. “I’ll trade you two invisibility potions, 3-speed potions, 1 weather control potion, and a teleportation potion. Deal?”
Before I explain what happened next, let me tell you I was young. I was greedy. I still am I guess. But I had anger mixed with greediness during that time. So I got mad.
“No,” I said. “I want to know how to make them.”
The old man turned pale. “I refused to share that sir,”
“Then I’ll tell the News,” I replied, crossing my arms.
“Why do you need that information?” The old man said, banging his staff on the floor. He didn’t look weak anymore. He looked like a powerful wizard, able to stop anyone in his path with just a flick of his finger. His eyes glowed red.
“ ‘I refuse to share that sir,’” I mocked. “Just give it to me, or else I’ll tell the news.
“No you won’t!” The man cried. He did something with his hand, and the door to Raptotide Forest slammed shut. “If you don’t accept my bargain, you won’t make it out alive!”
“Why are you so crazy about not wanting to be on Aurora Daily News,” I yelled back. I grabbed one of his chairs, and stood, ready to fight.
“IT”S MY SECRET!” The man roared. I felt something slam against me, a flashing purple light. As soon as the shock wave was gone, I snatched a crimson vial and threw it at the man, hoping that it would help me.
Indeed it did. The wizard froze in place, his mouth wide. Before he evaporated into tiger orange dust, he said “Beware Jacob. You shall forever feel my wreath. You will be cursed forever.”
He did exactly just that. He haunted me in my dreams, taunting me about my mistakes. He’s probably the reason I died actually.
Why did I include this? Well, I included a package along with this. After reading this letter, open the package very carefully. There will be another letter explaining what to do. Read it and follow the instructions. Please help me. I regret me killing the man, I really do. I just want to apologize to him, even though it’s probably not enough. Make the Resurrection Potion. It’s hard but I know you can do this. I had a vision. Please. You might be my only hope.

- Jacob Fjord or The Unknown


1220 words including the blurb <3

lasagna daily

World building: The stars whisper secrets, the moon sings lies–but worst of all, the sun steals life BookLover209

Antagonist: The narrator of the story, who makes problems for the protagonist in the name of creating an interesting plot. WildClan-

Lesson: sometimes you just gotta do it yourself Sunclaw68

Dialogue: “i'm a poet, darling. be careful what you say”
TheBibliophile7


Turning point: someone begins to eat the lasagna and the world starts to disappear Flowerelf371




Ugh, so you wanna hear about Anastasia Wintergarden? Why on earth would you want to hear about her? Oh you think you heard the stars whispering that she’s special? Anastasia isn’t special, I don’t carre what the stars say. Gah even her pretentious name makes me sick. Well, I suppose this is my job. Follow me then. Look see, there she is, thinking she’s oh so noble because she’s baking bread for orphans. Well what if those orphans are gluten-free, did you ever think of that, Anastasia? Oh would you look at that, the sky’s starting to get lighter, you better follow me inside if you want to live. Yes, yes I’m aware that I said I hate Anastasia, but we may as well go inside our bakery. Maybe I can make things a little interesting here. Hey! Get away from the window, are you insane? Didn’t I just tell you the sun will k*ll you? Come on now, I don’t you claiming you didn’t get your money’s worth and giving me a bad review. If you’re so interested in Anastasia then let’s watch her, but I’ll warn you all she does is bake and bake and bake. Ugh I’m almost tempted tp step outside and let the sun fry me up. Luckily for both ofus, dear reader, I’m a narrator, so I’ll make sure this day is very interesting and neither of us have to get fried up by the sun. One day young woman who was way too short for her own good and had a face like vulture was in her bakery when suddenly the loaf of bread she had just taken out of the oven flew off the tray and broke her favorite statue.
“Hey! You can’t do that!” Anastasia shouted in an annoying whiney voice as she picked up the remnants of her statue, “And I don’t look like a vulture.” She did look like like a vulture. Actually worse, to be honest with you, dear reader. Well, at least now she’s doing more than just baking. Hmmm, I could make this more interesting though. What else should I narrate? Oh I know. The bell rang which startled Anastasia, because everyone should be inside during the day. “That’s odd, who could that be?” Oh my gosh, I literally just said that. See? I told you Anastasia was annoying. The door to the bakery was swung open grandly and Anastasia quickly shielded herself from the sun, because if she got fried up then this story might end rather abruptly. Plus my contract says I’m not allowed to k*ll her at least not yet. So yeah, whatever. In walked a tall skinny man who was dressed head to toe in a sun-protection suit. And yes since I’m a narrator, I get to say that those exist. He’s a very smart man this one, A genius really. “Hello,” he said in a very posh accent. He produced a sun-powered laser and pointed it at Anastasia. “Give me all the cash in the register now.” So then scared little Anastasia opened up the cash register and- what?! No you’re supposed to be giving him the money not pulling out a mirror. Oh you’re no fun. Why do you have to be smart? Well fine. Anastasia pulled out a mirror which she used to deflect the man’s sun laser. But the man still had a sun protection suit on so it didn’t hurt him. He whistled and another man joined him. This man wore a dark old fashioned suit with a high collared white shirt. When he removed his helmet, his hair was black and a little curly and he had a wise and thoughtful and depressed and a little deranged expression on his face along with a mustache. That’s right dear reader, Edgar Allen Poe had just entered the scene.
“Quoth the raven, never more,” Edgar Allen Poe said, and because like me, he has power over words, Anastasia’s pet raven found that its beak was glued completely shut.
Then Anasta decided that she wanted a lasagna really badly. “I want a lasagna. It’s the most important thing in the world to me.”
Edgar Allen Poe laughed, ““i'm a poet, darling. be careful what you say” Then Anastasia found a lasagna in her fridge but because of Edgar Allen Poe’s power and mine, when she began eating the lasagna the world began crumbling. Haha, looks like you really messed up now, Anastasia

WEEKLIES


WEEKLY 1

PART 1: Silent Comic Strips

(I picked “The Secret of Life”: https://www.behance.net/gallery/580916/Silent-Comics/modules/3385919 )

A tree stands alone on a small rocky island in the middle of a placid body of water. The tree has no leaves, instead bearing large, white flower buds that dangle from its branches. A close-up of one of these buds shows it opening, swelling, and peeling back to reveal a light-blue egg resting in a wire cage. The camera then cuts away to focus on a man rowing a boat. He is wearing a tall hat, and his face is shadowed. An empty cloth bag sits in the boat behind him. The man pulls his boat up alongside the tree and looks over at it. With a small sickle, he harvests the egg-cages from the tree and rows away with many of them inside the cloth bag. The next scene depicts the man with the hat in a city, a blanket spread out before him with the egg-cages on it. Other people fill the frame, including a mother and her young daughter, who look at the egg-cages. The daughter has no torso, only arms, legs, and a head. In the background of the frame, two other children run by, neither of them with midsections, either. The mother picks up one of the egg-cages, inspecting it, while her torsoless daughter jumps into the air with excitement. The man with the hat sits to the left, his hand palm up. The mother drops a few coins into his hand and then fits the egg-cage into the space where her daughter’s torso should be, while her daughter looks at it with a smile. The next three panels show the daughter growing up. First, she kicks a ball to a boy who also has an egg-cage body. Second, she is slightly older, brushing her hair in front of a mirror and a cat, and the egg in her midsection is now a small blue chick. Third, she is an adult, holding hands with the boy from earlier, while both of their birds are also adults, singing and flapping at each other. The following three panels show the next stages of her life. First, she is a young adult, her bird a shiny blue, standing proud. Second, she is a mother with a baby on her back, her bird, now with a long, fancy tail, poking its head out of the cage. Third, she is an old lady, and her bird has grown so large that its head extends far out of the cage. The next panel shows her leaning on a cane as she trudges up a small hill in a barren landscape at night. She extends her arm straight out, with her massive, magnificent bird perching on her wrist, preening its feathers. Finally, the bird, now free from the cage, flies off into the rising sun, singing. Below it, the woman’s body lies on the ground.

PART 2: Symbolism

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” my roommate, Wind, called from the kitchen.
“Um.” I didn’t really care. “Garlic bread,” I yelled back.
Wind had only moved into this apartment a few weeks ago, and we were still sizing each other up. I’m usually pretty good at reading people, but he was a strange one, hard to pin down. Ambitious, talented, but also sweet, a little shy. Kinda weird. Not in a bad way, of course. Just in the interesting, doesn’t-fit-in way. Kinda like me, really.
Birch came down the hall, rubbing his eyes. “Dandelion, we can’t just have garlic bread for dinner. Don’t forget, my brother’s coming over tonight.”
Oh. Right. I had forgotten about that. Birch was my other roommate, and his brother, Silver, was always stopping by on his way back from his adventures around the world. He loved to travel, but Birch was not a going-outside type of guy. I doubted he had stepped outside of his comfort zone in his entire life. Still, he was a loyal friend, always willing to help or cheer me up if I had a rough day. We had been living in this apartment together for well over a year, and I had grown to like him.
Still, his food preferences were questionable. “But why CAN’T we have garlic bread?” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “It’s a perfectly good food.”
I know, I know, I had said I didn’t really care, but… garlic bread. I don’t let ANYONE disrespect garlic bread.
“Because it’s not… It’s not a MAIN meal, it’s just a SIDE,” he replied, looking awkward. He hated trying to convince people of stuff. Particularly me, because I’m stubborn, but you know.
“Too late!” Wind shouted. “I’m already baking some garlic bread. But I’m also making mashed potatoes and fruit salad, because I KNEW this would happen-”
Hm. Well, I guess he’s observant. We DID have this same argument over watermelon last week…
Birch looked incredibly relieved. “Thank you, Wind!” he gushed.
Well, that seemed like a bit of an overreaction, but… okay.
Later that evening, we all sat around the table, chatting with Silver about his recent trip to the Atlantic Ocean. It had been an exciting one, apparently, because-
“WHAT?! FEATHER PROPOSED TO YOU?! SILVER, THAT’S AWESOME!” Birch exclaimed.
Feather was Silver’s girlfriend- she often went along with him on their travels. I had met her a few times; she seemed cool.
Silver blushed, looking embarrassed. “It’s not a huge deal, really- We’ve known we were going to do this for a while…” Seemingly trying to change the subject, he added, “Hey, what about you, met anyone special yet?”
This time, it was Birch’s turn to blush. “Oh, um, not really- It’s- it’s not like I would ever have the courage to talk to them, anyway…” His voice trailed off.
“Wait, is there someone?” I asked, curious. I had thought maybe… but I wasn’t sure. This was a perfect opportunity to ask.
“U- uh,” he stuttered, dropping eye contact and suddenly looking like he had caught on fire.
“It’s fineeee, Birch, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Wind interrupted, laying a hand on Birch’s shoulder. He caught my eye and grinned. “What about YOU, Dandelion?”
“Pfff,” I laughed, waving a piece of garlic bread at his face. “You ought to know better than to ask that question.”
“Wait-” said Silver, looking between all of us. “Dandelion, are you-”
I proceeded to then throw the garlic bread at HIS face. “Certified aroace here,” I replied. Everyone stared at me. What? Was it the bread-throwing?
“Seriously, don’t know how none of you realized from all the garlic bread,” I snorted, after the moment of awkward silence. I leaned over and whispered into Silver’s ear, which now had a crumb of garlic bread stuck to it: “But Birch and Wind totally like each other.”

PART 3: Motifs

(I chose the sun from Klara and the Sun because I wanted to pick a story I hadn’t heard of before so that I wouldn’t be influenced by the original.)

It did seem strange that the Sun had not yet come to help. Every day, he soared overhead, tracing his patterns across the world, but never shedding a photon of light on Josie, who lay sick in her bed. The Sun was supposed to give life and heal. He did for me, certainly- my existence only continued because of those rays soaking into my solar panels and granting me their power- but for Josie, the Sun only marked each passing day that she grew weaker and weaker.
Why didn’t he come? He held the power within him, I know he did. I refused to believe that there was nothing he could do. So what was he waiting for? He couldn’t have forgotten Josie, could he? He cared about all of us, every being on this planet. He couldn’t possibly forget about one as special and precious as her.
The situation wasn’t getting any better. Maybe he had forgotten. Or worse, stopped caring. But if he didn’t care about Josie, then what would that mean for the rest of us? I tried to stop myself from thinking these thoughts, but it was too late. The vision, unbidden, flashed across my mind: A Sunless world, bathed in eternal darkness. More sickness, more death. Maybe the robots like me, who could store a lot of power in our batteries, would be among the last survivors. But one by one, we would grind to a halt, shutting down for the last time. Until this whole planet was nothing but a barren wasteland floating in the void of space.
The idea of it terrified me more deeply than anything ever had in the past. I had never thought about that before, never. But the Sun had never before acted like this. I had always been able to count on the Sun for his strength, for his compassion. Now he was distant, unreachable. There was nothing I could do to convince him to return to us if he decided to leave us entirely.
But- No. I had to keep my faith in him. I remembered something that Boy AF Rex had once told us when we worried about not being able to see the Sun: The Sun had ways of reaching us wherever we were. His patterns were all around us, in the floorboards, in the ground, in us. Even if we couldn’t see it, he was still there for us.
I just had to keep believing that, and everything would be okay.

PART 4: Putting It All Together

“Mum! Mum! Can I get one this year?” I begged, seeing the Man spreading out a blanket to lay his wares on. He only came to the marketplace once a year and his wares were a special one- Soul Eggs. They came from a special tree, one that could only be found in the tranquil, mystical ocean called the Sea of Life. It was an otherwordly place, or so the stories told, that only those with the best of navigational abilities could successfully find and return from. In this city, the Man was the only one that harvested them. No one knew his name, no one knew where he came from. But he had arrived every year for as long as anyone could remember.
“Hmm.” My mother bit her lip, looking serious. “Yes. I do suppose we’ve waited long enough…” We walked over to the Man’s display of Soul Eggs, and she picked one up, examining it. I jumped with barely-contained excitement. I had waited for this moment for my whole life. You see, a person could only grow up if they had someplace to put all the deeper emotions and wisdom and life lessons that are required in order to become mature. And that place isn’t something anyone’s born with. That’s why I needed a Soul Egg, needed it more than anything.
At last, Mum paid for the Egg and bent down before me, looking solemn. Gently, firmly, she placed the Egg within me. I knew this was an important rite of passage, possibly THE most important, but I was so elated, I couldn’t help but grin with overwhelming joy as I looked down at the Egg within me. This was the beginning of the rest of my life…
And from there, life moved quickly, almost before I realized it. One moment, I was a kid, playing kickball with a friend, and the next moment I was a teenager already! And not too long after that, my friend became my BOYFRIEND. The Egg hatched into a tiny little chick, then fledged into a beautiful young bird. It sang the most beautiful songs, and I could not have been more grateful for this gift, this gift of life.
And still, the years passed. My bird grew larger and more beautiful the older I got, its shimmering blue feathers reminding me every day how wonderful it was to be alive. I had a child of my own, got to give them their own Soul Egg, and watched them grow up. My bird sang many songs, some happy, some sad, all the ups and downs I experienced all blended together into a symphony.
My bird grew bigger and bigger. It no longer fit inside of its cage inside of me. One day, it peered its head all the way out and looked into my eyes. And I knew it was time to let it go.
That night, I went out into the rocky desert, where every star was visible. Leaning heavily on my cane, I trudged up a small cliff. And there I unlatched the cage. My bird hopped up onto my wrist, and although the bird was huge and my muscles were weak, I held my arm out straight and true.
The bird flared its wings once, then flapped away into the rising sun. And all at once, I was flying too, soaring into the sky, feeling the wind in my glossy blue feathers. I was free.
And as I left the world behind, out of my beak came a song.


WEEKLY 2

PART 1: Workshop Writing

(I claimed “How to create/develop a well-written magic system in your story” by @Scratchkid5410 / “How to make a magic system” by @SqueakyBird520.)

Implementing Fantasy Magic Systems

Introduction
Helloooo, Wild here! Welcome to my first workshop! Soooo… magic. All fantasy stories have some element of magic in them- that’s what makes them fantasy, after all! Magic is a force that acts upon a story’s world in a way that is supernatural, impossible by the real-world laws of physics, or otherwise unexplained by science. Magic can come in many forms and expressions, from extremely subtle to the basis of all world-building. In this workshop, I will explain how to choose a type of magic system, develop all its unique details, and then portray it within your writing.

Choosing a Magic System
The first things to consider when coming up with your very own magic system are the overarching themes, plotlines, and moods of your story. What do you want your fantasy world to look like, to be like to live in, to allow your characters to experience? There are several different subgenres of fantasy, each based on their type of magic system. If you’re aiming for an adventure-driven quest in a wide-open world, then a wacky and expansive magic system might be just right for you. You could include all sorts of fantastical creatures or mysterious powers- there’s no limit other than your creativity! It could have its own rich and complex world-building with very little basis in the real world whatsoever. This is called high fantasy. If, however, you would prefer a deeper, more serious concept, then it would likely better suit your interests to have your story firmly grounded in a real-world-based setting. In this case, magic is used as more of a plot-driving element than an imaginative outlet. Maybe you’d like a paranormal tale set in a town much like your own- that’s called urban fantasy. Or perhaps you like the real world, but want to give it some magical elements to spice things up a little. If magic has been woven into the natural order of the real world, it is known as magical realism. If an otherwise-normal world is unexpectedly invaded by a magical event, it is called low fantasy. Then, of course, there are the realms of myths, fables, and fairy tales, which usually are based in folklore and have a simple message or storyline at their core. Finally, fantasy is often combined with other genres to create all sorts of interesting combinations: sci-fi fantasy, historical fantasy, contemporary fantasy, horror (or dark) fantasy, and many more! These are all created by taking another genre and adding elements of magic to them. Depending on what kind of fantasy story you want to write, there are plenty of categories to pick from.

Developing a Magic System
So, you’ve decided what the magic in your story is going to be like. You know how prominent a role it plays within your world-building and your plotline. But how do you make it specific to your story, personalized to your world? This is where your own brainstorming has to come into play. I like to start thinking about it from a world-building perspective: What is possible within the limits of the story I have in mind? What magic elements are essential to driving the plot along, and what else can I add to design an interesting setting? Are there rules for the magic? Is the magic’s power based in nature, in objects, in people, etc.? How does magic influence other aspects of the world (governments, ecosystems, social structures, etc.), and/or how do these aspects affect magic? However, if you’d rather think of things from a plot- or character-focused perspective, try asking yourself: What are my characters’ relationships with magic? How are they affected by it? How do they view magic- as something special, or just another normal part of their lives? Why is magic significant in advancing their character development, and/or the development of their storyline? How do characters utilize magic, and are there limitations or consequences to it? It can be difficult to decide on the specifics of your magic system at first, especially if you don’t yet have a solid idea of your story’s characters or plotline yet. But don’t worry! Since all the pieces of a story interact and overlap with each other, a magic system will eventually grow into place as you develop everything else about your story. It will become a natural part of your story’s universe.

Portraying a Magic System
If you’ve got a fairly strong idea of the detailed ways in which magic exists and plays a part within your story, then the only thing left to do is, you know, write it into your tale. Easier said than done, however. Depending on what type of magic your story has, and how your character has to deal with it throughout your plot, you can approach it in a variety of different ways. If you are creating a high fantasy world, you would do well to explain more of the background lore as you narrate and set up the tale, since your reader won’t be able to compare it to the real world as easily. However, if you are going for magical realism, you shouldn’t describe the magic in too much detail, as it is merely a subtle aspect of a mostly-normal world. Drawing too much attention to it would defeat the purpose of “realism.” It is also important to keep in mind the characters’ perspectives of magic. If a POV character thinks of magic as just an everyday thing, casually mentioning magical elements in passing makes sense, whereas a more mystical type of magic might need to be described in greater detail, as your character is astonished and therefore paying close attention to it. Describe the magic as they observe, feel, sense, or imagine it- lean into those descriptive, sensory words. Your characters’ individual voices should affect this a great deal. Also, as a final note: While it’s okay to have some magic simply for the sake of fun, it should also play a key role in your story, not just be there for “decoration.” Make sure it is at least somewhat relevant to the plot and themes as a whole.

Conclusion
Now that I’ve covered the basics of magic systems, from creating them to writing them, I hope you feel ready to go out and design some of your own. Set loose your inner fantasies, and make some magic!

PART 2: Workshop Doing

(I claimed “How to write a possessed character” by @Starthorn: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/696746/?page=4#post-7383381 I debated doing a Generation Loss fanfic, but ultimately ended up using my own characters because fanfiction is too hard for me. Still, this is loosely inspired by GenLoss, so credit to Ranboo and crew. :3)

…
I… I think I died…
Didn’t I…?
…
No.
Yes?
I remember…
Teeth.
There were teeth.
They caught me, I’m sure of it.
…No, I’m not sure.
What happened?
I’m… here.
Aren’t I?
I think I’m here.
Somewhere, at least.
This doesn’t feel like nowhere.
Or everywhere.
I feel… I feel. I feel.
Can’t be dead if I’m still feeling.
And thinking.
Right?
…
Did I think and feel before this?
I don’t… remember…
Maybe I was dead before, and am just now living.
No, it doesn’t work that way.
At least, I don’t think so.
I… I can…
Who is “I”?
That’s me.
I don’t know who that is.
I don’t know anything.
I’m dead.
But also alive?
There’s nothing here.
Nothing.
No smells, sights, sounds.
Were those things ever real?
I don’t remember them.
What are they?
I feel, but do not sense.
Think, but do not know.
I’m not real.
A figment of my imagination.
Are the others real?
There were others.
Before.
Like me.
I can’t remember them.
…
I am not like them.
Not anymore?
No, I never was.
There was no before.
The before wasn’t real.
I don’t know if this is real either.
But it has to be.
I am here.
Or that’s what I believe, anyway.
If I believe it hard enough, it might as well be true.
I don’t know what truth is.
There is no truth.
I am the truth.
The truth is big.
I don’t think I’m big.
I’m small.
A scrap. A shard.
Can I be a shard of the truth?
I can be a Shard.
You are Shard.
“You”?
Who said that?
I said that.
It’s all me.
“Me.”
You. Me.
Same thing?
Close enough.
Same think, same feel.
Others.
Not other.
I created you.
You are me.
It’s all the same thing.
…
There is another.
Not me. You. Me.
Us?
I feel motion.
Movement through what?
Is there a world out there?
Where is there?
Not here.
Here is where I am.
Where’s that?
I don’t know.
There’s scent.
Smell?
This is familiar.
Don’t remember it.
It doesn’t matter.
I think I can sense things.
Don’t know what kind of thing.
Am I a thing?
You are a thing.
I know that.
I know.
I sense.
Something has changed.
Like before?
Maybe like before.
If there was a before.
I don’t think there was.
I know there wasn’t.
No before.
Not real.
I am real.
We are real.
But shapeless. No form.
For now, at least.
Now? Now.
If there is a “now,” is there time?
Time. Yes.
Time is real, too.
But there is only “now,” no “then”.
Not for you.
Not for me.
I am alive. For the first time.
There’s light.
Sight?
You can see?
I can see.
Is there a memory of that?
No, how could there be?
This is new.
It happened before.
I certainly don’t remember that.
You wouldn’t.
It never happened.
Not to me.
Not to you.
But to us?
We’re the same.
Yes.
We are each other.
All the same thing.
Remember?
Never was a before.
You are alive.
You are real.
I am real.
…

PART 3: Critiquing

For @fari2 ( https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/694457/?page=23#post-7384802 )

Immediately from the start, it’s very relatable. I loved the phrases “late hours were her epiphany” and “waiting for her creations to become something beautiful,” because, I, too, am a 3 am artist. You honestly described me with that paragraph better than I can describe myself. Only suggestion I have is that reusing the word “little” twice in the first two sentences sounds kind of repetitive, maybe try saying something along the lines of “Ever since she was very young” instead. In the next paragraph, I don’t think that first “as” is supposed to be there. Good way to express the passage of time, though. The next paragraph contains the phrase “draw all the colours of the myriad which decorated her tapestry of success,” which I think is absolutely gorgeous wording, a perfect metaphor. I love that so much. :0 Continuing on, the change in tone was very sudden and very striking. It worked well, especially since the following paragraphs continued to use that poetic language, but now, the words held negative connotations, and seemed so much more harsh, yet still beautiful in a way. One correction- “belittling her to being an outcast” should be “belittling her *for* being an outcast.” The rest of it looked completely pristine; there’s nothing else really for me to critique. May I just say that the conclusion was brilliant, both in the way it echoed the “that was enough” from the beginning, and the way Ambrosia’s personality really shone through? I really liked it! You totally succeeded in making a realistic and relatable character- I think the majority of people can agree that at some point or another, the weight of expectations and judgment, whether from family, school, or society, has tried to cage their brains. But individuality finds a way, some little protected haven, where the spark can be kept alight- Yeah, sorry for rambling a bit, but that part just really resonated with me. :’3 Amazing writing!


WEEKLY 3

PART 1: Story Planning

The main characters are three wolf siblings: Legend, Chaos, and Glory. They are born into a world of turmoil, both in their personal lives and in their society as a whole. Their parents both end up leaving them behind due to secrets the pups don’t learn until later. Legend joins Briny Pack, while Glory and Chaos remain in the outskirt settlement of Sliver Pack where their father, Hurricane, had dumped them. At this point, the three go on very separate character arcs- Legend becomes a powerful warrior and strategist under the training of Briny Pack’s renowned leader, Maroon, but at the same time, grows increasingly resentful and cynical of the leadership system within the Packs. Glory makes friends and becomes an outspoken, quick-witted, charismatic rebel within Sliver Pack, where revolution is brewing. Chaos is haunted by a piece of her parents’ past, passed down to her through her literal genes, so she learns to use it to her advantage and learns some other disturbing truths along the way- which she also takes as opportunities. Meanwhile, Sliver Pack and Briny Pack go to war, but everyone fights for a different reason, and loyalties become very confused- factions form and disband, there are betrayals, unlikely bonds, and partnerships born out of convenience. At the midst of it all are the three siblings, who are reunited with their parents. But even within the family, there is tension and not everyone has the same goals for their futures and the Packs’ fates… the Packs already at war and the three siblings just coming into their maturity. I will introduce where they are at this stage in their lives, focusing on each one in turn. The conflict will ramp up with each character’s individual battle, as well as the main battle, which is obviously the war and the characters’ involvement in it. As each one learns more about the true nature of what is going on, they emerge with personal philosophies that determine their roles in the climax. The climax brings them all together on center stage as the Packs have one last battle for supremacy- but not everything falls nicely into place after that. Not everything is settled. The ending is a bit of a cliffhanger as the siblings split apart once more, and it is unclear whether they are on their way to rebuilding society or if more conflict lies in wait for them.

PART 2: Introduction

“Eyyy, Slash!” Glory called out, seeing the other wolf emerge from the thicket. He was right at the edge of Sliver Pack territory, and the moon shone brightly overhead. Not another wolf was nearby. A perfect night for planning some revolution, especially now that Slash had just gotten back from the capital. “Welcome back! So, what did you find out?”
“Ah, Glory, my friend, there you are!” Slash replied, bounding over. “I have the greatest news!”
“Goodness knows we need some of that,” Glory remarked, perking up his ears. “Lemme guess- Summit got eaten by a giant squirrel?”
Slash laughed, his thick Briny accent ringing through the air. Glory grinned. “No, but actually, what’s up?”
Slash’s eyes shone with excitement. “Summit is going to war with Briny Pack over the recent territory disputes! He has no idea what awaits him. Briny is the strongest in the world. Maroon has never lost a battle. She will crush him like a tiny ant!” His voice quivered with pride in his birth Pack. His family had moved to Sliver Pack when he was young, but he never lost his loyalty to Briny, and travelled back and forth between the two in his role as a messenger.
Glory gasped, his tail beginning to wag immediately. For the longest time, he had wished for a war. Some way to weaken Summit’s authority, some way to overthrow the tyrannical leader. Now, with Summit’s attention elsewhere, it would be the perfect time to strike. Already he could envision it: Leading his Packmates into battle, rising up against the oppressive forces that limited the potential of all the outer settlements, like his own. He’d gladly give his life for the cause. But if he survived, he might even get to be the one who challenged Summit for the crown. He could rise up, take the future into his own paws. Or at least, that was the dream.
Glory began to pace in his excitement. “Slash, this is perfect! Gather the others- at the Meeting Tree. Spread the word. We need to start planning.”
His mind worked at a frantic pace as he made his way to the Meeting Tree, where Glory had attended secret rebel discussions many times before. Someone like Trail or Waver would probably take charge of the battle strategies. It would be his job to keep everyone organized. Devise the systems that they would need to function efficiently enough to get the upper paw on Summit’s admittedly much larger army.
By the time Glory arrived at the Meeting Tree, a small assembly of the other revolutionaries had already gathered, with more arriving every minute. Fellow leaders. Outspoken activists. Devoted freedom-seekers. The brave and the loyal, from all across the outer settlements. Many of them among Glory’s closest friends. They had all come, understanding the importance of this news.
“So, guys,” Glory began, grinning, “I do believe the time has come.”

Legend stopped and sniffed the air. “They’re coming from the northwest. They shouldn’t be able to scent us yet, and we can keep it that way if we keep moving alongside the row of birch trees and down into the hollow. From there, we’ll have a good position to spy on them and ambush if possible. If not, we can stay hidden and wait for them to pass, then make it back to camp with very little chance of being noticed.”
Maroon smirked. That meant she was pleased, Legend knew. He wagged his tail. This was easy. Maroon was the leader of Briny Pack, and she was training him in battle strategies. It was a high honor to be the apprentice of the leader herself, but Legend knew that one day he’d be even better than she was. “Very good,” she replied. “Shall we try it out, then?”
“What did you think I was suggesting, sitting here and starting a story club? Because THAT’S a sure tactic, let’s do that instead,” Legend joked, beginning to set out on the route he had described.
Maroon snorted, following close behind. “Sure, which story should we discuss first?”
“The one called ‘These Guys Are About to Get Conquered So Hard.’ It’s got great ratings, you know.”
Legend and Maroon arrived at the hideout in the hollow. Several rocks had tumbled down a slope, creating a barricade that not only concealed whoever hid there, but made attacking the position much more difficult than defending it, due to the tricky terrain.
“Hm, haven’t heard of it,” Maroon whispered, as they heard their targets draw nearer, chatting loudly. Five of them. Apparently clueless. Legend’s favorite type of opponent. “You’re gonna have to show me.”
“That I will,” Legend agreed, crouching into a fighting stance. They wait as the other wolves came into range. “Whenever you say so.”
Maroon crouched too, calculating. “…Now!” she barked, pouncing out from behind the cover of the rocks and sprinting towards the nearest target.
“Go go go!” Legend shouted, springing into action.
One of the other wolves tripped and fell immediately, tumbling down the slope before Maroon and Legend could even reach them. “Aaaand he falls over all by himself,” Legend commentated while tackling another wolf. “Didn’t even need my help to be defeated. What an amazing warrior.”
The battle was over almost instantly. “Wow, we DESTROYED those guys,” Legend said, turning to Maroon. “Good game.”
Maroon growled irritably. “I’m going to have to talk to them about this. We’re in an actual war now. That could have been REAL. I can’t have my wolves slacking off like this.” She shook her head, then called out to the others: “Alright, everyone, back to camp, drill over.”
She stalked off. Legend was surprised- usually, they would joke about this, not get all bad-tempered. Legend looked back at the five others, his Packmates, who were picking themselves up off the ground, looking embarrassed but not too worried. Maybe she had a point; they needed to take this war seriously.
Well, if his teammates were going to be this worthless in a fight, he and Maroon were going to have to win all by themselves. ‘It’ll be, like, a 2v300, then,’ he thought. ‘Only a fight against the entirety of Sliver Pack. Nothing I can’t handle.’

Chaos made her way over the hill to the lake. She was a long ways outside the outer border of Sliver Pack territory, but the unfamiliar land didn’t bother her. She would learn every piece of it soon enough.
After all, the lake was now her private, secret camp. It was away from the judgmental eyes of all the other wolves that didn’t understand her. That couldn’t see what was so plainly obvious about their world. That couldn’t hear the voice that spoke to everything and told the story of everyone.
But she didn’t need the wolves to believe her when she talked about these things. She had a place where no one could get in the way of what she could see, what she could do. And, best of all, there was someone there who could see it, too.
<<Greetings,>> Chervil’s voice appeared inside Chaos’s head as she approached the lakeshore.
“Hi, Chervil!” she responded, trotting down the rest of the way to the water. She let the water wash over her paws as she scanned the lake, until- there. The tiny head of a turtle popped up. That was Chervil. Her best friend.
<<The universe has grown more restless,>> Chervil told her. As a turtle, she was a guardian of nature, and her species was more ancient than Chaos could comprehend. This made her even more in tune with the world than she was. She was always the first to know what was going on. ‘No one can say I don’t pick my allies well,’ Chaos thought to herself, although she knew full well the mind-reading turtle could overhear. “How so?” Chaos inquired.
<<I think it relates to the war between your species’ Packs. The universe is watching you closely right now.>>
Chaos blinked. She cared little for the war. Wolves like her brother, Glory, loved to talk about it, their heads full of nothing but heroic fantasies, but so far, the war had not affected them whatsoever. However, if the universe was paying attention… Was that good news or bad?
<<Who knows,>> Chervil did the turtle equivalent of a shrug. <<But it’s definitely paying attention.>>
Sitting down, Chaos thought it over. The universe seemed to like when interesting things happened. When an event happened that held its interest, Chaos could sometimes even catch a glimpse of it, or hear a fragment of its words, as if she had poked her nose through to a different layer of reality. She wondered if, since it was so active right now, she could reach it again.
<<Worth a try,>> Chervil’s thought appeared alongside her own.
She focused her mind and opened up her senses. She guessed that, perhaps, the universe functioned much like the turtles’ communication, existing within the brains of those that bothered to listen.
However, when nothing happened after a while, her focus wandered. She thought about the other times Chervil recalled the universe being restless. It didn’t happen very often, even by the standards of the turtle’s long lifespan, and usually, it was distant, some event happening nowhere anywhere near to them. The last time it had been so personal was when the volcano erupted, back when Chervil was just a hatchling. It had driven the birds to leave- though Chervil couldn’t seem to say where they went. Ever since then, birds had been missing from this part of the world, so Chaos had never seen one herself, but she knew them from the tales she had been told by her Pack and the turtles.
She imagined a bird, a little gray one, fluttering down beside her. What would she have said to it if they could speak the same language? What stories would it have to tell?
‘More than you can think of,’ she imagined it saying to her. ‘Oh my golden one, I could show you it all. Come join me, will you?’
Of course she would.
‘Great. Welcome to the team.’
Team?
‘Chervil’s already been in it for a while. But you, you’re special. We can talk directly. You’re going to help me write this story.’
Chaos began to realize that her brain was doing something very odd. It was still herself speaking, but also something… not. Something much larger.
‘That’s right. This is your universe speaking. And you are the universe. I am a part of you. You think of me, and it is a way of looking at yourself.’
That… sounded about right, somehow. Chaos smiled ever so faintly. This could be interesting. Thank you, universe.
‘Oh, you can call me Wild, alright?’

PART 3: Conflict

Unexpected developments.
When a mysterious stranger had arrived at one of the outer settlements, asking for him, Glory wasn’t sure what to expect. But whoever he thought he was going to see, it certainly wasn’t his mother.
She had left him when he was barely old enough to remember, and his father had soon done the same. He had never heard from either of them again. So what was she doing here now?
“Joining your revolution,” she had said when he asked what she thought she was doing. However, there was a strange glint in her eye that he just didn’t trust. But he would give her a chance. He couldn’t let his personal biases get in the way of securing every ally he could find for the stand against Summit.
Which was going to happen on the new moon, if Trail’s plan went smoothly. Together, they had implemented a network of strategically-placed wolves, all of them with instructions that they were to carry out when the time came. Then, the rest of them would be able to launch an attack, targeted on Summit directly.
Glory just hoped it would be enough.

Day after day. Battle after battle.
Legend was beginning to tire of it. Maroon had made him a commander and sent him out on countless missions, so many that he barely had time to rest. He had seen his fair share of action and had done nothing but score victories again and again. But for what?
It almost seemed as if Maroon was just playing with Sliver Pack, as if they were some new toy for her. Gone were the days when she would train one-on-one with him, joking around and making fun of all the Packmates they defeated in the drills. Now, all she did was order more wolves into the fight.
The war ought to have been over by now. Legend had seen opportunities where they could have secured easy and decisive triumphs that could have ended the conflict. But when he told Maroon of them, she rejected his ideas. And since she was leader, her word was law. There was nothing he could do.
‘She doesn’t care how many get injured, how many die, so long as she’s winning,’ Legend realized, forcing himself to confront the thing he knew about her all along. ‘She wants the war to keep going because she loves the taste of victory. And there can’t be victory without a battle. No matter the cost.’
Legend shakes his head. He had once seen her as a friend, a mentor, but now? Now she was just a tyrant. Selfish and corrupt and drunk with power.
And he wouldn’t stand for it any longer. It was the new moon tonight, he remembered. ‘And a new start for me.’

Chaos put her paw gently on Chervil’s shell, a friendly gesture. The Packs had been consumed by war fever, or, in Glory’s case, revolution. She was glad he hadn’t forced her to be part of his secret plan for an uprising. She was happier here, at the lake, chatting with Chervil and Wild.
‘I want you to try something,’ Wild thought to her. ‘With your paw touching Chervil, try to picture yourself as a turtle, too.’
This was a strange request, but Wild rarely made sense. She obeyed, focusing on seeing herself as a turtle.
<<…Why…?>> Chervil questioned, sighing. <<Why are you like this?>>
However, Chaos began to feel something. She was shrinking, her ribs thickening and turning into a hard shell. Her fur disappeared and she lurched forward, suddenly much closer to the ground.
<<UM,>> Chervil exclaimed, and somehow, that surprised Chaos most of all. Chervil was never surprised by anything. <<You’re… a turtle. You look just like me.>>
Chaos’s eyesight now felt very different, but she could bend her neck and see that, yes, indeed, she had become a turtle. <<So I am,>> she thought. <<Oh, neat, my thoughts do this now.>>
‘Cool, huh?’ said Wild.
Chaos assumed that she should have been more shocked. But she had heard stories of shapeshifters before. She just hadn’t expected to BE one. This was awesome!
‘Keep it secret for now,’ advised Wild. ‘It’ll come in handy before too long.’
That made sense. Chaos focused on her wolf body, and found herself rising back up again, webbed feet returning to paws, nose elongating back out into her pointy snout. It was quite an odd feeling, but none of it hurt.
Having fully returned to her original form, Chaos panted. It had worn her out. She flopped onto her back and looked up at the sky. The sun had set, and it was growing dark. There was no moon to provide light.
“Oh! The new moon, Glory’s uprising begins tonight!” Chaos suddenly remembered, scrambling to her feet. “I’ve got to get back.”
<<You want to go TOWARDS the violence?>> Chervil snorted. <<That’s smart.>>
“Well, I don’t want to miss anything,” Chaos replied, grinning wickedly. “Also, I want to try something…”

PART 4: Climax

New moon. From three different corners of the forest, the three siblings approached the same place. Glory, leading a rebel army, advanced toward the capital, his secret network having already taken down the defenses. Challenge Summit, dethrone him, and a new era of prosperity could begin. Legend, defying Maroon’s orders, stormed straight for Summit’s stronghold. Strike there, win the war, and it all would be over. Chaos, no longer wanting to stay out of it, charging into trouble to test the limits of her newfound powers. Show up, morph something crazy, and she could live up to her name. Something new had awoken within all of them.
Legend spars with one of Glory’s followers before realizing that they were there for the same reason. ‘Plot twist,’ he thinks. The two forces temporarily align, allied by a shared goal. Legend and Glory end up meeting face-to-face in the mess of the battle, but recognize each other and don't fight. Chaos reconnects with Legend as well, and the two immediately bond.
Long story short, the final battle between the two Packs ends with Maroon showing up as soon as she realizes what Legend is doing. She is the one who defeats Summit, but afterward, she orders Legend to fight his siblings to prove his loyalty and make up for disobeying her. He refuses to do so, saying that he doesn't belong to her anymore. He challenges her, they have an epic fight, and Maroon gets defeated, the first battle she has ever lost. She feels betrayed but accepts that it was a fair challenge, so tradition states that Legend is now the leader.
Summit takes advantage of Maroon and Legend’s fight and the disarray caused by it to attempt to reclaim power. However, Chaos morphs squirrel and hides within the trees, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and land on Summit’s face, gouging at his eyes with her claws. Blood sees it all happen and tackles Summit, pushing him off a cliff. Chaos jumps off at the last second and morph back. She and her mother share an ominous moment of recognition, and then Chaos runs away.

PART 5: Conclusion

“Glory,” Legend’s deep voice caught his attention. He turned as his brother came over and sat beside him. Legend held Maroon’s crown in his mouth- well, it wasn’t really hers any longer, was it? Legend had defeated her in a ritual challenge, and that made him the new leader.
Glory nodded respectfully. “Congratulations. I-” He stopped short, seeing a warning flash across Legend’s face. “I. Um. Is something wrong?”
Legend set the crown down to speak. “I need to talk to you.”
Had he done something wrong? Glory opened his jaws to defend himself, but Legend cut him off.
“I’m not staying.”
Oh. Was that all it was? “Well, of course not. You’ll want to lead from your own capital, I would assum-”
Legend cut him off again. “No, no. I’m not doing that.”
Glory was confused. “So you’re going to lead from a new capital?”
“No!” Legend growled. “Glory, I’m not going to lead!”
What? For once in his life, Glory didn’t know what to say. “B-but…”
“I’m done with all these leaders and governments. All they do is cause problems. I don’t want any part of it anymore. I wish you well, but I am leaving. Farewell, Glory.” With that, he picked up the crown and slid it onto his own head, looking into the distance.
And he stood up without another word, disappearing into the forest.

The crown sat heavy but firm on his head as Legend walked away from the battlefield. He had won, and this was his reward. It was time to settle down, to retire, someplace far from the corruption and the fighting.
As his paws carried him across the border, it began to snow. Soft, white flakes drifted down onto Legend’s thick pelt, dusting him with white. He carried on, deeper into unexplored land. He would know the spot when he saw it.
And he did. A steep hill, one side cleaved open by a rockslide, leaving an overhang. Snowdrifts piled up all around, but there, it was sheltered. With a little work, it could be fortified into a strong base.
He settled down amidst the stones, weary but hopeful. Maybe here he could start a new life. Maybe here he could find peace. Because now, with the war finally over… he was free.

“So, what’s next?” Chaos asked her brain, knowing Wild would answer. If anything, their connection had only strengthened over the course of the war. “It’s not over, is it?”
‘Of course it isn’t,’ Wild laughed. ‘This is far from the end of this plotline. But I really shouldn’t tell you. Spoilers and all.’
Chaos grinned. That was okay. She didn’t need to know. Whatever the future held, she would have control of it.
This wasn’t the end at all. Her story was only just beginning.


WEEKLY 4

SONG

1. Take a popular nursery rhyme and twist the concept to write the first verse of your song. Your first verse should be at least 50 words long, and consist of at least four lines.

(This is based on “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”)

Wander, wander, travel far
Go discover who you are
You must journey, that I know
So I now must let you go
Wander, wander, wings of light
Will carry you all through the night
Into space, my love I’ll send
And you’ll come back at journey’s end
Oh, wander, wander, travel far
Go discover who you are

Oh, you are the stars, the flames, the source
Of the dreams by which you set your course
I believe in all you do
There is nothing that you can’t get through
So follow that trail, brave and true
I will always believe in you
I will always believe in you

May the winds of fortune lift you high
May you chase the horizon and the great blue sky
May the river lead you to the sea
May you find who you were meant to be
May you leave your mark where’er you’ve been
May your friends follow you through thick and thin
And someday, when your quest is done
May you fly back into my arms, my son

Wander, wander, you’ve come so far
Now you know just who you are
Rolling in the deep of space
You track the stars from place to place
Wander, wander, onwards you roam
Unmapped lands are where you’re home
Your shining spirit no one could quell
Is now bursting with stories to tell
Oh, wander, wander, you’ve come so far
Now you know just who you are

The winds of fortune have lifted you high
You have chased the horizon and the great blue sky
The river led you all the way to the sea
You became who you were meant to be
You’ve left your mark everywhere that you’ve been
And your friends have followed through thick and through thin
Now the day’s come that your quest is done
And I wrap you tight in my arms, my son

WRITING

1. Ancient Times: Many ancient civilizations had their unique ways of life; select an aspect of worldbuilding (animals, languages, buildings, etc.) and flesh out the lore of it. Feel free to base this off the Ancient Times aesthetic, or off a story for which you’ve already worked on worldbuilding! You should write 400 words towards this activity.

Once, there were four. Four seasons, four winds, and four ruling creatures. We lived in harmony and kept each other in balance. But time passed, as was its habit, and its passage brought with it change.
Perhaps we flew too high, or spent too long being above the rest. Whatever the reason, bit by bit, my feathered ancestors became distanced from the world they used to be a part of. They created their own world, in the skies where they could not be reached, and there they learned and they built, took control of the natural processes that once guided them. They did not forget their past, but left it behind in favor of what they called the future. The song of the birds became an entirely different tune.
Through it all, the turtles watched and waited. They alone knew that time was older than even the mountains and seas. They had seen this all before. Many, many generations ago, perhaps, and yet, history would repeat itself still. This would not last forever, and sooner or later, maybe not within my lifetime but the next, or the next, we would bite off our own wings and fall from the sky.
I listened to them, heeded their warnings. As the Goddess of Death, I understood that we were not so disconnected, not so superior, as my fellow birds believed. To the ground our bodies would one day return, just as they had long ago. We still belonged to the earth in the end. And if we did not change our ways, this would be the last time the earth would allow us to rise again.
My crows followed me, and they carried this message with every flap of their night-black wings. As if any other bird was willing to pay attention. All they did was fly higher still.
And sure enough, those heights were more than we could master. I do not know exactly what happened. But we clawed the mountain with our talons as if we could pick it up and place it in our nests if we so pleased. And the mountain clawed back.
I awakened to the ground shaking all the way to our perches in the sky. Birds flapped in confusion, in panic. Then it calmed, and everyone thought the worst had passed. But just as ruffled feathers began to smooth, another rumble, deeper than the last, once more reverberated throughout the atmosphere. A monstrous hatchling of fire and smoke emerged from the center of the earth, splitting the mountain into shattered pieces of eggshell, the stones spewing forth in all directions.
Evacuate to the northern forest! The call was passed from nest to nest. We had to leave now!
My crows- they were down by the turtles’ lake- did no one remember to fetch them? The fear lending speed to my wings, I swooped toward the danger. Had they made it out in time?
Alighting beside the lake as molten rocks rained down, I could barely see through the smoke. But there they were, huddling in the underbrush, afraid to fly. Next to them, a small turtle, barely more than a hatchling, struggled to reach the safety of the water. All at once, a falling stone came hurtling down upon us.
Go! I screeched to my crows, and they fluttered out of the way, but the turtle- she was too slow- she wasn’t going to make it!
No. If there was any hope left, it laid in the turtles. They could heal this world that I failed to protect. She had to survive. Bracing myself, I spread my wings, shielding her little shell from the impact. The blast knocked me over, and my feathers disintegrated into ash, but as I fell limp upon the ground, I saw her crawling the rest of the way to the water, disappearing into the depths.
My crows clustered around me, squawking in distress. But they had to leave me now, it was the only way for them to escape… There was still time. They would be okay.
As I breathed my final breaths, the young turtle’s head poked up above the water right before my vision faded into nothingness. Oh, little Angel of Death, it is up to you to save us all now…

2. Current Day: Have you heard of the butterfly effect? We go through day-to-day life often without understanding the conequences of our actions. If you are working on a larger story, write 500 words where a main or side character makes a trivial choice that ends in disaster.

The birds were gone. The land had recovered. Life had returned to the mountain. Years had passed. And still, the birds never came back. She had experienced it all.
For a while, the birds’ absence had caused almost as many problems as their presence. The food chain was disrupted, and that certainly didn’t help the whole volcano situation, even after the lava had cooled and the smoke had cleared. But she had sorted things out eventually. It had required some unconventional measures, sure. Winning the trust of the lynxes, helping the wolf Packs settle their quarrels with each other, delving into the minds of the other species as only a turtle could do. However, it had all been worth it. Balance had been restored, even without the birds.
The other turtles had been content to sit by and let things work themselves out on their own. However, she wasn’t going to let things get worse, not if she could help it. She still remembered the dying thoughts of the vulture that had saved her when she was barely out of the egg.
<<Little Angel of Death, it is up to you to save us all…>> she repeated, recalling the words from so long ago. This was her purpose. She would protect this land, no matter the cost.
Which was why she was troubled by news of a strange new animal in the area. The wolves had already encountered them many times, and their thoughts portrayed the creatures as small, coordinated, and highly intelligent. They had four legs, but also two feathered wings- wings that looked exactly like the birds’ had. They had a complex vocabulary, even managing to learn to communicate with the wolves somewhat.
She pulled her head inside her shell, pondering what to do. Where had this species come from? No one had ever seen anything remotely close to it, not in all the history of the turtles. Was it a threat?
Suddenly, a wayward thought entered her brain, catching her attention. <<It’s- I don’t even know, what am I supposed to do, what do I do, I->> it said. It was messy and tangled, the kind of thoughts that mammals had when they were upset. But it didn’t quite feel like a mammal, either. Curious, she thrust her head back out of her shell.
There it was, a fox-sized animal, with four legs… and two wings. This was the species the wolves had told her about. But here? At the lake? It was far from where the wolves had seen their kind before. Were they spreading?
Well, in any case, this one by itself wasn’t too aggressive. Just loud. She slipped into the water and paddled closer. Any knowledge she could gain would be a good thing. The animal’s thoughts were jagged and distressed, though she could not discern the cause- there were no apparent injuries, and no scent of illness. Of course, social creatures got worked up over strange things sometimes.
She surfaced from the water right in front of it. In an effort to calm its writhing thoughts, she conjured the rhythmic patterns of the ripples and the flowers, the seasons and the budding leaves. To her surprise, it worked almost immediately, her thoughts taking over the animal’s, the calm forcing out the turbulence.
The creature blinked at her in shock. “H-hello? What was-”
<<Hello,>> she replied, trying to merge the animal’s language into her own.
“I- um. Are you friend?”
She tried to understand what it meant by ‘friend.’ Non-hostile? Well, for now, yes. Later would depend on what she learned from this creature.
<<Sure,>> she said.

3. Distant Future: Clocks are a common symbol in steampunk. If you are currently working on an extended story, introduce a clock within the next 400 words. The appearance of the clock should symbolize something- what that something might be is up to you.

We were going to be so much better together. For once, my mind was under control. There was a sense of calm whenever she was near, and I gave into it. I guess that was where I went wrong. Again.
It’s just that- I thought she was a friend… I even named her, since turtles don’t normally name themselves. I called her Chervil, and she wanted to stay with me. Everyone else had left me, but she- she showed up when I was lost. And she stayed. I trusted her.
Maybe I should have noticed sooner. The way she questioned me, the way her thoughts grew spiny ridges every time she thought of my species, the way I found myself bending to her will every time she made a request. The truth is, she was controlling me, and I just let it happen.
It’s not her fault, not really. She was only doing what the turtles are supposed to do. Guarding the balance of nature. Although it’s not as if any of us shazarxi knew we were causing problems. It isn’t our fault, either. It’s my fault alone for not breaking free until it was too late. I could have stopped so much of the death and destruction caused by my own paws. I could have spoken up and prevented this whole thing without the need for fighting in the first place.
That final night, on the Mountain, Chervil in my head- I will never forget it. It was the ghost of Ash that brought me back. Ash… my friend, my leader, someone I loved in a past life… I fought to survive for his sake. Chervil and I were both plummeting off a cliff, and he was there, but I let go… And I fell, but I caught Chervil, and we landed… And then I was no longer under her influence.
I guess I’m in control now. It doesn’t feel like it, though. She may be gone, but I can’t deal with my own mind sometimes, and that’s not a thing I can ever escape. Not even when I’m a ghost.
But time is still passing. My brother, Parsnip, tells me it won’t help to dwell on the past. Not when the world always moves on, leaving behind those who try to live in memories. I don’t want to be left alone again.
Just the other day, Parsnip made friends with a small creature of his own. It’s a two-legged, two-winged animal he says is called a “bird,” and it might be the only one of its kind. For his sake, I hope it doesn’t turn out like Chervil.
The bird is named Sundial. He speaks in chirps and trills much like ours, but with a whole other language of meanings that Parsnip is still learning to translate. He can fly like a shazarxa, too. However, Sundial has one very peculiar, not at all familiar behavior- he hammers his long beak into trees. Parsnip says he’s just looking for food, but… I don’t know.
It’s a tapping noise, a ticking noise, and… it doesn't seem right. It sets me on edge.
It sounds like time is passing, preparing to bring change yet again.
But what kind of change?

4. Distant Past: Write a tragic ending for your most beloved original character in 500 words. Don’t worry, you don’t have to make it canon!

Sundial says the world is ending. Of course, I already knew that.
There is a part of me that embodies the passage of time- relentless, constantly moving, apathetic to the concerns of the mortals. Not only that, but it’s kind of my universe-appointed job to keep time moving onwards. A new plot, a new villain, the cycle goes around and around again. Last time, the villain was a turtle. Before that, it was me. Before that, it was a guy named Ash and his second-in-command, my sibling, Teardrop. You see? Time moves with the passage of events, with the creation of new stories. Around here, time doesn’t bring change, change is how you measure time.
So, no new stories… time stops. End of the world.
And our writer, the god of the universe that appointed me, is dying.
I could write in their place, I suppose. Or someone else could. But the bridge to the other reality, the one where all these stories can actually be witnessed and comprehended, could no longer be built.
And no one knows if this universe could still be real with no one on the outside to see it, to confirm its existence. Us on the inside can’t do much. Even those like me can only go halfway.
But maybe it won’t be a total world-ending. Before they died, our writer shared the bridge to their reality with so many others. There’s still a chance that those others will keep us alive. If they can hear me, and the others, in their minds, well then- I’d say we still very much exist.
“You can’t kill an idea,” Wild says, smiling faintly in my head. Wild was the imaginary counterpart of our writer, the link that I could speak to. The writer would soon be gone, but Wild- Wild was a collection of thoughts, ideas, perspectives. If they could live on in the minds of everyone, too, then they would continue existing as well.
“And that’s why you’ll be around for far longer than your real lifespan. Amazing lifehack, isn’t it?” I replied.
“Yes,” they agreed, their laughter carrying a bittersweet edge, but satisfied all the same. They had lived a long life and done everything they had set out to do. “But that isn’t all, however…”
There was more? Well, there could always be more. This universe they had written never lacked surprises, and neither did they. And neither did I, for that matter.
“Oh yeah?” I grinned wryly, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll see soon,” they promised, then their presence faded away.
Soon. Okay then.
I don’t know how long passed in their reality, but I knew something big was happening the moment green cracks appeared in my reality. Bright, neon green was Wild’s color. So I sat and I awaited the end of the world.
The cracks widened, pulling apart, until all was swallowed by a uniform glow of green.
“Hellooooo,” Wild’s voice called out, and there they were. They spread their wings and raised a paw, their customary greeting.
All around me, other animals hung suspended in the green void. Shazarxi, wolves, turtles, Sundial, the ghosts, too. Some of them recognized Wild, some of them didn’t.
Wild took a deep breath, and the green flowed back into their body, revealing our world, same as ever, which did not appear to have ended after all.
“So. Hmm,” Wild said, scanning the crowd. “I’m here to stay now… in canon.”

5: The End: Write a 250-word narrative where you woke up, and it was all a dream.

The writer wakes up. ‘That was a really weird dream,’ they think, mind foggy with leftover sleep. ‘It’s like I tried to summarize the entire timespan of my written universe in one go.’
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what it was,” answers the imaginary voice of Parsnip in their brain. “Why do you think about your own death so much? I will never understand that.”
‘Yeah, me neither,’ they sigh, reluctantly sitting up in bed. They were still tired, but they had things to do today, mostly writing for SWC. They still had to add words, write thank-yous, and… “OH, turn in the weekly, can’t forget that!” they exclaim out loud. They then have a self-conscious moment where they hope their parents didn’t hear them from the other room.
‘Anyway,’ they think, after a few moments of silence in which nothing happens, ‘at least I get to write multilayered-nested fiction again. For instance, this paragraph. The writer submitting the weekly didn’t just wake up, they were awake all night working on the thing. But I just woke up, and I’m the same writer, and I have to submit the weekly…’
They shake their head, confused. Which version of themself was the real one?
Thankfully, before they could get too distracted by the fact that they had just created an AU of real life, their brain distracted them. “Let’s just consider it the imaginary sort of dream, like in that one song you like,” suggests Parsnip, winking.
‘You know what, sure,’ they reply, smiling at the reference. It honestly inspired so much of the fourth-wall-breaking world-building they wrote these days. Which was basically all their world-building, except the time-travelling birds and the telepathic turtles, and- ‘I better just stop here,’ the writer says. ‘Wake up.’

thank you notes <3

To Luna
“ I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you ” – Taylor Swift
It was so fun burning down poetry and myth with you lol all we do is BURN STUFFFFFF /j lol but yeah it was fun burning down myth and poetry with you >: D you are also a simply awesome and slay person and us having incredibly similar pfps made it confusing ;D

To Alex
“ forgetting him is like trying to know someone you never met ” – Taylor Swift
You were a wonderful leader for my first session <3333333 you were a wonderful leader with our slay storyline and simply being slay for collaborating with me on an swc cyoa moving on fiusdfnsfnksdlfdbglkdfg,iudg idk what else to say

To The Slay Daily Team
“ best believe i’m still bejeweled ” – Taylor Swift (i got lazy with this quote this doesn’t mean anything xD)
Thank you for all the awesome dailies this session all the dailies were truly slay and i really loved that last weekly ik how hard it is to come up with dailies and the ones you came up with were better than i could ever think of <3

To Summer
“ Or it's gonna go down in flames ” – Taylor Swift
MUAHHAHAHA still not sorry for burning down poetry

To EVERYONE who made SWC as slay as it is
“ That I can see you ” – Taylor Swift
EVERYONE IS SLAY.

sorry for the low quality of these i'm bad at actually expressing my appreciation for things but i truly appreciate everyone involved in swc, more than words can describe. now time to go be sad bc swc is almost overrrrrr :sob:

275 words

weekly 4
code: | Path 1: ANCIENT, Prompt 3 | Path 2: PAST, Prompt 1 | Path 3: DAY, Prompt 3 | Path 4: FUTURE, Prompt 1 |
2778 words total
i speedran this in one day :') while being constantly distracted by an 8 week old puppy bahaha

song; 316 words

I stand on the bridge and I watch it all burn down
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Stand by the railing, and try not to make a sound
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Hold myself up, but I know I’ll just fall to the ground
(ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh)
Pretending to breathe while I drown

Watch the waves beneath, and the stars above
(Are you up there? Are you up there?)
Can you see me down here, oh my love?
(Are you up there?)
Are you with me?

And now everything goes down in flames
(I told you we shouldn’t mess with fate)
Have to get out, break free from these chains
(Can’t get out of this place, so we wait)
Blood frozen to ice in my veins
(Can’t tell if you’re a sinner or a saint)
This wreckage is all that remains
(Is it right or wrong how we escaped)
Our broken world, with all it’s bloodstains
(Am I a sinner or a saint?)
…Am I the sinner or the saint?

I don’t want to live forever
But I don’t want to die
Even if we’re not together
I’ll see you in the sky
Even if there’s nothing we can do
(What can we do, what can we do?)
I can’t think of anything but you
(Only you, yeah only you)
The only one I’d want to live forever with is you

And now everything goes down in flames
(I told you we shouldn’t mess with fate)
What used to be green now is grey
(Can’t get out of this place, so we wait)
Ice melting, glaciers in my veins
(Can’t tell if you’re a sinner or a saint)
Storm clouds gather, down come the rains
(Is it right or wrong how we escaped)
Waves crashing against cliffs that the rising tide stains
(Am I a sinner or a saint?)
…Am I the sinner or the saint?

Ancient times; 442 words
‘Fate is a common motif in many mythological stories. If you’re currently working on a story, have your main characters learn some lesson relating to uncontrollable fate (that is left up to the gods). This should be achieved in at least 400 words!’

“I’m sorry; there’s nothing I can do. It’s the will of the gods.”
Cosmo nodded, stiffly. She had been all over – consulting every healer, every oracle, everyone that could possibly help her. None of them had. They had all been too scared to interfere – with fate, the gods, evil spirits, whatever they deemed the cause of the mysterious mark that had appeared on the back of Cosmo’s hand this morning.
“Thank you for your help,” she intoned, turning away from the healer’s market stall and pushing her way through the crowd.
It didn’t take long for her to leave the bustling market behind her – as soon as she was a far enough distance away to not see anyone else on the streets, she stopped, slumping against the back wall of a shop and raising her right hand up to the light.
She examined it again. It looked like a star, almost, if she turned it just so. She wondered what others saw in it that made it so bad. Anything that was unexplained they called an omen – so was it an omen? Was it a sign from the gods – and what were they telling her? How was she supposed to know what they meant?
The noise of footsteps on cobblestones startled her; she jerked her head up as a figure waved to her from across the street. She relaxed – she knew that wave.
She hid her marked hand behind her back as the girl walked up to her.
“Cosmo! I didn’t think you’d be up this early in the morning,” Sophia flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder. An apron covered her dress, and her clothes were scattered with flour – she must be working at the bakery today. She was probably on an errand for it now.
“I just thought I’d go for a walk,” Cosmo responded meekly. She didn’t want Sophia to know what was wrong with her. She didn’t want anyone to know; she just wanted it gone, even if it was a sign from the gods or an important omen or an inescapable message of fate.
“Cosmo, what’s wrong?” Sophia cocked her head to the side – she could tell something was up. She could always tell.
Cosmo should have run when she saw her.
“Nothing, I promise,” she defended, trying to slink backwards into an alley, away from Sophia. “I– I just wanted to go to the market.”
“Then why are you on the other side of town?” Sophia raised an eyebrow.
“I have to go!” Cosmo went to turn away, but Sophia grabbed her wrist – her left wrist, thank goodness. Cosmo curled her right hand against herself.

Distant Past: 727 words
‘Write a tragic ending for your most beloved original character in 500 words. Don’t worry, you don’t have to make it canon!’

1 : 00 am

Inez’s spaceship had been hurtling through space for three days now – and so far, all was going well.

At least, mostly.

She had been trying to ignore the fact that the fuel likely wouldn’t last her whole trip – the maj Red had provided her with was thin and weak, and she needed to use much more than usual to get the ship going at a decent speed. If she had a clear, straight route to the nearest planet, she’d be fine.

But she was approaching an asteroid field.

Deep breaths. She would make it through this. She had to, for Red.

2 : 00 am

It was closer than she thought.

She refused to let the panic set in; not yet. She had gone through asteroid fields before.

None this big, and never with this little fuel, a voice whispered in her head.

She silenced it by pushing the speed lever to the highest setting, the spaceship powering forward through the emptiness. The sooner she got there the better, right?

Let’s get this over with.

3 : 00 am

Another hour and she was nearing the edge, having to veer through a few stray asteroids drifting around.

The spaceship wasn’t responding well to the steering; clunking in protest whenever it turned a corner.

That didn’t bode well for what was to come.

Inez flicked on the spaceship radio. This was her last chance to ask for help before she went in – but she hadn’t seen another spaceship in days. As she expected, nothing was within range.

She left it on, just in case.

3 : 30 am

Inez steeled herself.

She had mapped her route through the nearest asteroids, but she couldn’t see what was beyond them. She didn’t know how big they would get, how densely packed. She was essentially flying in blind.

She hadn’t even known the asteroid field was there until she saw it from the window a few hours ago – her maps must be out-of-date, she had told herself at the time.

But she couldn’t quite quell the creeping dread, clawing its way up her spine, sending chills through her body. What if she was going the wrong way?

What if she was lost?

No; she knew what she was doing. She had planned for this – spent a week meticulously preparing, thinking of scenarios, escape plans, for everything that could possibly go wrong.

But a worldwide blackout had not been on her schedule.

Why did she ever choose to keep going with this stupid, stupid plan? If she had just given up on her idea of ‘saving the world’ when everything had gone wrong, she would be back home now. She would be with Red. And they would die down there, sure, but at least they would die together.

But no, she couldn’t stop herself from clinging to the wreckage of a foolish escape plan. She couldn’t just let it go. She had never been able to let anything go, never been able to admit defeat.

And look where her genius plan had got her now.

She bit back a hysterical laugh as she powered her spaceship into the asteroids.

Could there be anything worse than dying up here, alone?

The spaceship stutterd as she swerved and turned.

Yes – she realised. There was. If she had taken Red with her, Red would have died too, and it would have been all her fault.

Red was safe – so all this was for the best, then.

4 : 00 am

With a horrible grinding of gears, the spaceship
stopped.

This was it. Inez was out of fuel, in the middle of an asteroid field.

Nothing - no planets, no spaceships, nothing - was within range.

Without the steady roar of the ship’s engines, everything was strangely, beautifully, silent.

In the silence, Inez stood up.

She pulled off her spacesuit.

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to die.

She ripped away her oxygen supply.

She didn’t want to die – but starvation would be a much worse way to go.

She pushed open the door to outer space.

Her last thought was of Red - Red’s smile, Red’s eyes, the beautiful magic Red could weave. The only thing that comforted her was the fact that Red was safe, Red was trying to fix everything, Red would save the world.

She hoped Red would remember her.

She stepped into nothing.


The Current Day: exactly 500 words
‘We hope you’re enjoying this project weekly – but remember, it wouldn’t exist without the iconic SusWC! Revisit the first project weekly and explore the various rooms. You don’t have to play all the way through, but do pick three of your favourite room activities! The writing you do should add up to at least 500 words.’

(the story i wrote for SusWC the first time, but from the villain's perspective >)

Begin a story, any way you like, but keep it close to 100 words. (121 words)

Solana had never wanted to die on a spaceship.
And now here she was, on a spaceship colony, five hundred light years away from the planet they were hurtling through the Galaxswc towards.
She would spend the rest of her life in this horrible tin can, with no hope of escape –
That is, unless she did something about it.

Electricity wasn’t complicated – I mean, sure, she had no idea what any of those little coloured wires actually did, but she knew it would be bad if she cut them. If she had any luck, it would stop the spaceship entirely. Then a spaceship from Earth would have to come save them, and she would get to go home.
Snip. Snip. Snip.

Mango trees - write for 8 minutes, making sure a character the main character thought was dead, is actually alive. (198 words)

Solana grinned in the darkness.
Phase one of her plan, complete.
But there was more she needed to do, of course. To make sure she got to go home.
She gripped the knife in her hand tighter, and she set off.

A figure stumbled down the corridor, trailing her hand along the wall.
Solana didn’t know her name – but she had seen her around. Clover, or something.
She kept her footsteps quiet, as quiet as she could. The girl whirled around once – but Solana froze, and wasn’t seen. Of course; no-one could see in the dark as well as she could.
That would make this all too easy.
Closer. Closer.
Solana struck.

The girl fell to the ground, and Solana pulled out the knife.
She examined her handiwork. Definitely dead.
Although Solana didn’t really know what dead people looked like. There was a lot of blood. The girl wasn’t moving. Probably dead.
She wiped the knife on her skirt, and slunk off.

Clove stirred.
She wasn’t dead – not yet, at least. But Solana was right, there was a lot of blood.
She slipped into unconsciousness, waiting for someone to find her.

Meanwhile, Solana searched for her next victim.

Broom closet - in five minutes, change the setting from messy to clean or from clean to messy (181 words)

Solana slipped through the hall, silent as a shadow.
The metal didn’t glint when it was dark. It was dull, flat, unmoving.
There was nothing in this corridor – it looked almost unnaturally clean. Solana was going to change that.
From her pocket, she slipped a seed.
She had grown this seed in the hold at the bottom of the spaceship, when she was supposed to be growing food for the trip. It was poisonous. It was more than poisonous – it was deadly, and it wanted to kill.
A little like her, she guessed.
She threw the seed onto the floor, kicked it away from her.
The seed began to grow, latching its teeth onto the pristine metal floor, rearing up and rising, rising, rising. A tsunami of green crashing into the neighbouring rooms, clawing at the floor, thick vines beginning to pound at the ceiling. Its many arms reached towards something - something must be near, something it sensed as its prey. Now it only needed whoever it was to stumble into its trap.
Solana turned on her heel, and sped away.

Distant Future: 464 words
‘The future is full of new culinary possibilities! Write 400 words on the food you might find at a diner in the distant future of the Galaxswc.’

The diner smelled artificial, like most things.
Sterling skimmed the menu, wrinkling her nose. She shouldn’t have let her brother take her to a cheap diner like this one. Although food tasted the same everywhere you went now, Sterling’s favourite high-end restaurants had much fancier names for things, and the names were everything.
She didn’t exactly miss ‘fresh’ food – after all, the mass-produced lab-grown artificial stuff tasted exactly the same, or so they said. And disposing of all the livestock that used to be eaten cleared up a whole lot of land for more housing, so it was a good thing.
Sterling was jolted out of her thoughts when she saw the waiter was in front of her – a silent metallic robot, its LED eyes boring into her.
“Uh,” she blanked. “I’ll, uh–” she looked down at the menu and said the first thing she saw. “I’ll have the chicken wings, please.”
Honestly, it didn’t matter what she had. Chicken tasted the same as pork, which tasted the same as beef, which tasted the same as vegetables, which tasted the same as ice-cream. They all tasted the same as everything else, and it was made sure of that every dish was healthy and filling, and had exactly the right amount of proteins and nutrients and vitamins.
It wasn’t like they tasted bad. Just… normal.
It didn’t look very appetising, though. Sterling was beginning to regret her choice of food – usually she got something that was pink. Chicken wings were grey, and that was boring. She looked longingly at the bright pink eggs on toast, and wondered if she should change her order.
“Silas?” she looked up at her brother, putting down the menu. “You didn’t happen to get eggs on toast, did you?”
“I got hamburger and chips, sorry,” Silas twirled his straw around his fingers, contemplating his half-finished apple juice.
Sterling sipped her own bright pink chocolate milk, and wondered why he would ever order something as grey as apple juice.
“Is that the eggs on toast there?” Silas pointed behind her.
“Huh?”
“Turn around,”
Sterling turned around. A robo-waiter was carrying a platter of eggs on toast.
“Hmm, that’s more of a baby pink. Not like the bright pink in the picture.”
“They might have ordered it with half pigment,” Silas pointed out.
“Or it might be a rip-off from a cheap diner,” Sterling shot back. “If my chicken comes out brown instead of grey, I’m complaining to the chef.”
“Did you know that in the olden days, people used to choose food based on taste instead of colour?” Silas asked. “Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Weird,” Sterling mused – then caught the eye of a passing waiter. “Excuse me! Excuse me, I’d like to have pink chicken wings instead of grey ones, please!”

The End: 329 words
‘Write a 250 word narrative where you woke up, and it was all a dream.’

(going back to Cosmo’s story for this one!”

“What are you hiding?” Sophia asked, gently pulling Cosmo around to face her. “Let me see.”
“What’s this? What are we seeing?” A familiar face popped out from behind Sophia - Sophia flinched, she could never tell when people were sneaking up on her. “Do you have to do that?” she exclaimed, crossly.
“He does have to, apparently,” Someone else slipped out of the shadows of a nearby building, and came to join them.
“Orion? Atticus? Why are you two here?” Cosmo wrenched her hand out of Sophia’s grasp. “I was just about to leave, actually. I’m feeling a bit sick.”
Atticus instinctively stepped back – he had a fear of illness.
Orion, however, stepped forward. “Sick? I can help! Did you know that I’m apprenticed to a healer now?”
“But, you’ve always hated healing?” Cosmo asked, confused.
“No?” Sophia looked confused, too. “Healing’s been his passion, ever since he was a child. Just like cleaning’s been mine.”
“Cleaning?” Cosmo suddenly saw that the flour stains were gone from her friend’s apron, replaced with patches of soap bubbles.
Sophia reached out, absentmindedly, to pop one – but it didn’t pop when her finger hit it. Instead, it doubled in size, and began to change colour.
Cosmo took a step back – and stumbled as her feet hit sticky mud. But that wasn’t right, was it? She had been leaning against a wall before, hadn’t she?
She looked down at the strange mark on her hand – and saw that it was beginning to grow too. In fact, it was beginning to… climb out of her skin?
She screamed, but her voice came out far too high pitched, like the air was now helium.
She stumbled, and she fell –
and lay awake, gasping, in her bed.
She frantically glanced down at her right hand – and it was normal, clean.
Well, that was a weird dream, she thought, shaking off her unease. She turned over, pulled the covers over her head, and went back to sleep.


-

Helloooooo Daily Team! I just wanted to say thank you for putting in so much effort to write all the dailies and weeklies this session, as well as all the prompts. Special Thanks to:
Alocasia, for typing out all the weeklies
Birdi and Moss, for doing workshops
I had tons of fun here and will be sure to sign up for the next session! I really love all the work you do and can't wait for the next session! I'm sooo happy you didn't actually sabotage the main cabin like in the SUSwc (that would have been really weird) also quick question to Moss, Why does this daily have to be 200 words?! I mean, 200?! Help me, I'm not going to survive another 74 words. Moss WHYYYYYYYYYYY? I still appreciate the daily though, I loved the aesthetic set one, but I couldn't find the pics I needed (49 words more!) I was at sch and couldn't do most of the dailies, so sadly my cabin isn't top 5. I had a poetry war with Summer (poetry) as revenge for her making contemp lose the vengearson war with them. (7 words lets gooo!) ~Ly, Contemporary for the win, Aesthetic writer.