Writing Comp Entry

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Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

You can hear the crying echoes of the dragons in the distance.
A man approaches, begging for water, shelter, anything. You take a step back. You want to help- you know you do- but you’re hardly in control of yourself anymore. Your feet stumble backwards, away from the weeping man. You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, but the air offers no solace. Smoke invades your lungs, and you nearly choke.
Beneath the cliffs you stand on, your city is crumbling. There goes the Central Tower. The manor of your family has been diminished to dust. A balcony crumbles off of a building, and someone screams manage to rise above the noise of the rest. You feel your head begin to ache with it all. You can’t even comprehend what’s happening.
You pull the front of your tunic up to cover your nose and mouth, and for just a moment, you feel like you can breathe. You try to gather your thoughts, at least enough to do something besides trip over yourself.
You look over to the city beneath the cliff. A split in the earth, like little delicate cracks on glass, appears like a scar on the city.
A talon emerges, entirely identical to the two other scaly creatures of myth already burning your city to cinders. A woman beside you, cradling her young child, lets out a scream that slowly fades into a coughing fit.
It’s so loud.
You blink, and for that flashing moment, you remember the tales of your parents and the peasants. Dragons, formed in the fire of the core of the earth itself, coming to burn cities of sin.
You were young and foolish not to see how your hometown could be worthy of becoming a complete inferno.
“All masks must come off at the end of the day,” you whisper quietly to yourself, remembering the wise words of your mother.
She is ashes.
You hear a cry from behind you, and you whip around to see a young man barreling toward you. His hair is disheveled, covered in ash and dust, and you can hardly recognize his face from behind the cuts and bruises.
But the scream is one you’ve heard many times. The young man arrives beside you.
“What are you doing?” he yells over the sounds of screams and buildings breaking.
Your words stumble, just like your feet. “I- I don’t know, Evander, what’s… everything is-”
“You’re going to die if you can’t pull yourself together,” he says, grabbing you by the wrist.
Together, the both of you run down the cliffs. For a foolish moment, you feel like everything was the same- you and Evander running down the mountains, laughing. Now you are coughing to cover the screams.
Finally, he pulls you into a small cave that you never noticed before. He collapses on the ground, wheezing. You sit down, breathing heavily and trying to pull rocks out of your sandals.
“I can’t see anything,” you say.
“I’ve got a candle,” Evander says. You hear some rustling, a quick swoosh, and the cave is gently lit up.
It’s the best fire you’ve seen all day. The thought is sad, and yet you nearly laugh.
“Where were you when…?” you say.
“Walking here. I was going to find a spider or something to scare Lanie after she managed to put salt in my water, but then…” he drifts off. Lanie is his sister, and probably the closest connection between humans and dragonkind. One look at her handiwork or mischievous little face, and anyone could tell.
It’s quiet for a moment. You can hardly hear the sounds from outside. You pick up a pebble and hold it between your fingers before dropping it into the dirt, gazing at the little divot it leaves in the ground.
“Why?” you whisper. The word could mean a thousand other words, but Evander knows.
“We’ve always known something would happen. I mean, we started out a utopia, we fell, no one wanted to admit it, and now we’re being burned.”
He sounds so bitter.
“What do we do next?” you say.
Evander raises an eyebrow. “How in the world can you possibly be asking something like that right now? We’re trying to survive. That’s what’s next.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say. “We have to have… something. We can’t stay in here forever.”
Evander looks at you with sarcasm lined in his face. “You’re mental.”
“Not the topic at hand right now,” you say, though you know he’s right. “We need to get out of here, or we try to save the city. And you get to pick.”
He rolled his eyes again. “You can be such a pain, you know?”
“You’re stalling,” you say.
“I’m not picking,” Evander says. “I just saved your life.”
You sigh wearily. “Fine.”
The sounds of screeches and shattering are getting louder. Time is burning, and quickly. You stand up, despite the protests of your bones, muscles, and skin.
“We find everyone who’s left and we wait for the dragons to leave,” you say. “Then we rebuild the city.”
“And it falls to chaos again, and it gets burned again.”
“We learn and we… we change, Evander!” you say. You can feel your breath getting caught in your throat. The smoke is coming again- they’re getting closer.
Evander moans. “I don’t want to deal with this now,” he says. “We’ll discuss it later.”
You glare at him, but he’s already standing and moving toward the mouth of the cave. Outside, you can see pillars of smoke and dust rising, as though the city were falling into the darkening sky.

Word Wars!

Word War w/ the ever amazing Finley

“Things can't get worse, can they?” Emilia asked, her brow knit iwth concern and her eyes looking between me and the arrow nervously. I grinned at her. Oh, she was so naive. Dear, yes, but very naive.
“Give me a few minutes, won't you?” I said.
“That wasn't a challenge, you know!” she cried after me.
“Doesn't matter!” I yelled back, running off. I pulled some bits of dirt off of the arrow. A bow was lying on a nearby table from the practice that the soldiers had been in the middle of when the dragon had come and scared them off.
I pulled the arrow at the bow, and immediately let it fly. In an instant, I saw it hit the flaming tree nearby. The tree's flames began to turn silver, reacting with the cursed arrow.
The dragon, still circling over the fortress, looked over at the flash of silver.
“What on earth are you thinking?” Emilia cried as she got up to pace with me.
“I'm thinking that I am about to make our lives a lot more complicated,” I said as I saw the dragon swoop down toward the shimmering flames. “But don't worry, it should turn out for the better in the end.”
“Um, what is that supposed to mean?” she said.
I grabbed another arrow. “It's supposed to mean a lot of things. Now stand back. The dragon is about to lose his mind with this one.”
I let another arrow fly.

Daily for November 8th <3

(Note- It would feel a little strange to write story and call myself Poppy, so I'm just going to use ______ signify my real name, and I'm using xxx to cross out anything that's personal info )

The ____ of the past was giving her best mischievious smile to the teenage girl in the room- me- even though it was her future self. If she was intending to find some way to trick me, that wouldn't have worked for a whole variety of reasons.
The older me was looking at both of us, with either fear or memories in her eyes. I couldn't quite tell which one- they looked really similar sometimes. Her arms were crossed.
When they told me I was meeting my past and future, I honestly didn't know how to respond. There wasn't really a great way to respond.
“So… my job is to give advice?” I said, looking down at the frizzy-haired bunch of giggles I once was in front of me. Physically, we looked only a little different. My hair had gotten darker and curlier over time, but other than that, height was the only difference.
Older ____ nodded. “That's what they told us, at least.”
I nodded and looked at little ____ again.
What could I possibly say? How could I warn my younger self of everything that was coming to her? What do you tell your younger self to prepare themselves for years and years of things she'd never be able to understand until she was there? The things I wanted to warn her about, even I didn't fully understand yet.
I knelt down and looked little ____ in her eyes. “I only have a few things to say,” I said, stammering a little bit. I wasn't old enough to offer anyone any advice, even my younger self. “You don't have to do more. You don't have to.”
She nodded, but I didn't even know if she understood.
What else could I say without being too specific? It's not like I could say anything too drastic like- avoid going to xxxxxxxx school, don't spend so much time focusing on xxxxx, give xxxxx a chance, don't let xxxxxxx give you advice, xxxxx is not your friend.
I opened my mouth to tell her not to give up, but I almost immediately knew I didn't have to tell her that. She'd figure it out on her own.
“Never mind,” I said, smiling at little. She grinned back and immediately skipped off to where her tiny, 1/8th sized violin was waiting for her. Screeching sounds started to come from the strings. Older ____ and I listened for a moment before turning to each other.
I knew I didn't have to ask too specific a question. She was my future self, after all. She'd know what goes on in my head.
“Do they happen?” I asked. “The first thing, and the second.”
She smiled. “I can't answer those for you. You know that.”
I nodded. “Any advice then? Things you want me to know?”
“Not everything you worry about is permanent. Scars fade. Pages burn. Stains wash out. You just need a good enough Tide pen,” she said.
I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be funny, or if I just never developed the ability to make great metaphors. I really hoped it was the first one.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Everything turns out for the best, whether you think so or not,” she said. “Give it time.”
Time.
“One last piece of advice,” she said.
“Mmhm?” I said.
She glanced over to where little ____ was playing, getting clouds of rosin dust all over her clothes.
I nodded. I knew what older ____ meant.
The other two faded away, leaving me with my thoughts.
Time.

(Why did I choose to listen to Never Grow Up and Would've Could've Should've while I wrote this what was I thinkinggg-)

Cabin Wars I

My Extra challenge from war with mousey

A Letter to The One I Love

Dearest sailor, dearest friend, dearest lover,

I sit here in my leisure staring across the grasses of the north park of this land. I've lived near the estate for ten years now, and I have grown used to every blade of grass in its place. Now, without thee, it seems only more tedious.
Alas, the man who doth waddle across the lawn is the man I'd like least to see and converse with. He is one of the suitors my mother prefers. I far prefer the one who is most out of my reach. Perhaps if I avoid his gaze, he will leave me to my writing.
I'd much rather converse with thee, to look into thine eyes and call thee by thy beautiful name.
Yet, thou art oceans away, waiting for me, and I for thee. Perhaps if you were to come back tomorrow, I would be able to feel a stirring in my chest that reminded me that this place, this land, is what I love. I only really love the places that hold thee.
So today, dearest, I love the ocean.
I think often about thy ship. I often think about the soldiers that join thee on thy journeys. Most of all, darling, I think of thee.




Here's my first part of the story for the first war from Skye-

I ran down to the edge of the sand. The ground beneath me was slightly damp from the chilled waves. My feet almost instantly sunk into the sand beneath me, but I hardly noticed. All I could pay attention to was the little dark shape in the distance.
“Please stop!” I screamed at it.
It didn't stop. It went further off into the sea.
The little dark bird was holding a small white marble in its claws. How it managed to hold on to the slippery little thing, I'll never understand. I almost nearly threw myself into the ocean, as if I could run on water, catch the bird, and retrieve the marble.
It held something. I didn't know what- but I knew it held something.
Something so cursed, something that brought either bad luck or miracles to the holder, it must be worth something.
Everlund came running after me, his clothes flapping like the bird's wings as he ran down next to me on the beach.
“It's getting away, Everlund!” I screamed. “What- what do I do?”
“Calm down,” he said, his constant look of tranquility resting on his face as usual. “I've got something.”
I sighed in relief. Of course he did. He always had something to fix everything.
He pulled his knapsack from off his shoulder and threw it open.
“Can you… can you go any faster?” I asked.
He looked up at me, a dry look written all over his face. “You need to take a breath. You're going to die before you can do anything if you keep acting like that.”
I glared at him. “That bird is getting away with my cursed inheritance in its hands.”
“I'd hesitate to call it a bird,” he said, still lazily digging through his bag.
He was right. I knew what it was. It was a life-shifter. It could take on the life of anything it came across.
And now it had the one thing I needed.

PoppyWriter wrote:

I ran down to the edge of the sand. The ground beneath me was slightly damp from the chilled waves. My feet almost instantly sunk into the sand beneath me, but I hardly noticed. All I could pay attention to was the little dark shape in the distance.
“Please stop!” I screamed at it.
It didn't stop. It went further off into the sea.
The little dark bird was holding a small white marble in its claws. How it managed to hold on to the slippery little thing, I'll never understand. I almost nearly threw myself into the ocean, as if I could run on water, catch the bird, and retrieve the marble.
It held something. I didn't know what- but I knew it held something.
Something so cursed, something that brought either bad luck or miracles to the holder, it must be worth something.
Everlund came running after me, his clothes flapping like the bird's wings as he ran down next to me on the beach.
“It's getting away, Everlund!” I screamed. “What- what do I do?”
“Calm down,” he said, his constant look of tranquility resting on his face as usual. “I've got something.”
I sighed in relief. Of course he did. He always had something to fix everything.
He pulled his knapsack from off his shoulder and threw it open.
“Can you… can you go any faster?” I asked.
He looked up at me, a dry look written all over his face. “You need to take a breath. You're going to die before you can do anything if you keep acting like that.”
I glared at him. “That bird is getting away with my cursed inheritance in its hands.”
“I'd hesitate to call it a bird,” he said, still lazily digging through his bag.
He was right. I knew what it was. It was a life-shifter. It could take on the life of anything it came across.
And now it had the one thing I needed.

“Here,” Everlund said, handing me a bundle of fabric. It looked like some weird baggy shirt, or maybe a cloak?
“What is this?” I asked.
He looked at me like I’m a complete fool and the answer to my question is super obvious. “They’re wings, of course.”
“Wings?”
His exasperated expression increased in severity. “Yeah, wings. Take them, put them on, fly across the ocean, and catch that insidious beast who stole your cursed inheritance.”
“Oh… Okay.”
I grabbed the bundle of fabric, unfold it, and slip it on over my raincoat. When I hold my arms out to the sides, large, beautiful wings unfurl from the fabric.
“Go, go, go,” Everlund cheers me on, “You got this!”
I leap into the sky, soaring on my new wings, and chase after the life-shifter.

my part for skye's war

The wind ruffled my newfound feathers, and I felt a ball of dread solidify in my gut. I knew I had to do this–that was inheritance, after all, cursed or not.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a heartbeat before opening them again. I glared at the life-shifter as it flapped its wings harder, faster, wilder. Its movements were almost frenzied, as if it needed to get away from me. Well, I wouldn't let it.

I glanced back, just for a quick moment, taking a peek at Everlund on the shore behind me. He stood there, a quiet silhouette on the sand. I was too far to see his face, not that it would've mattered much, since his expression was calm, cool, and calculated, like a fox.

Looking forward again, I tried to fly faster. I just had to catch up to it…

Final bit for Skye's war

As I flew, the wind whipped at me furiously. The bird was getting closer, its little black feathers flying wilding. I stopped midair, the wings still holding me aloft. I reached out and grabbed the bird.
The bird started to screech furiously. The noise hit my ears, nearly making me cry out. I tried to pry the marble from its grasp, but it was holding on with all its might, and the little sharp edges of the claws were digging into my skin.
I gritted my teeth and tried to yank it out.
The marble fell out of its claws, down to the ocean below.
I dove after it.

Rant because I have to go to sleep soon and Wild just warred us >:(

I am very very sleepy and I need to go to bed soon and wild just warred us which wasn't the nicest thing to do but you know what I've done meaner thinsg during this cabin wars, especially considering that I've warred far too many cabins and I'm thinking that they are all probably suffering as much as I am at the present moment. I just finished a super long war from fantasy and now I have this and it is absolutely going to crush my soul if I am not careful.
Now onto the true part of my rant! I woke up this morning and I watched a little bit of West Side Story before my sister came home from her piano lesson and I had to turn off the tv. I then opened my computer and opened all of the updates about the Percy Jackson show. I wasn't expecting to see too much, since it's been absolutley forever since they've updated anything, but lo and behold, Rick had made a post on his blog! I read through the first part, but when I got to the mysterious gif at the end- I screamed. I started looking over it, googling maps, researching different scenes in the books, and texting a friend to tell her. She immediately called me, and we spent the next hour and a half making up predictions. We think that our prediction of a hint at season two and a release date for the official trailer are correct, but we have a whole bunch of other ideas involving a combination lock and maps and a whole bunch of other things because we are very insane dorks.
I guess that part of the rant ended fairly soon.
I am so so so tired because I have been up for a while and it's super late at night and I should have been in bed a very long time ago but it's fine since I can sleep in tomorrow hopefully. Oh yay I am only a little while away from finishing this rant so I can go to sleep and be happy and rested and not at all staying awake in bed and panicking about our shield times! I just hope and pray that one of my cabinmates will wake up and finish the rest of the war for me so that all of this hard work will go for something instead of just my sanity dying more and more. Oh good I only need like less than a hundred words until this rant is complete and I can fall into bed and sleep for a hundred years like sleeping beauty.
I am very happy because I've written almost four thousand words for my nanowrimo novel over the past couple of hours which is nice because I'm really far ahead and now I can take breaks when I need to and I'll still be on track to finish my novel. Oh my gosh, only eight words left, and I'm DONE!!
Done

Writing Dare!

The cucumber was struck with a wave of cold as soon as it was removed from the grocery bag. It was placed with its bretheren inside of a refrigerator. The cucumber felt like it could feel the chill all the way from its outer, dark green skin, down to the seeds deep inside.
It didn't want to be eaten, but to be inside this cold refrigerator for hours on end almost seemed cruel beyond all else. It was dark at all times, and chilling in every possible way.
As it spent more time in the refrigerator, it began to adapt to the dark, cold environment. The only annoyance ir found, is that just when it felt it could not become any more peaceful, the fridge's doors would open, throwing on a bright light and startling the cucumber.
The scariest moments were whenever a human hand would reach out to the vegetable drawer, the cucumber would have to try to blend in amid the kale… but it was no use.

Well I guess I have to rant again if I want to get this war done

I just got chewed out by my parents for staying up really late last night. I guess that they were definitely right about my health and all of that, but I'm feeling pretty good actually. I'm probably going to go to bed around midnight tonight so that they don't get even angrier with me.
We've got a live cam of Oxford England up on our tv right now, and I just love it. It's the prettiest place on earth, and it's my home. Every time I go, I feel a little bit more alive. I just love all of the history in it, I love the *gorgeous* architechture, I lvoe the beautiful trees and grass and flowers. I love the Ashmoleon museum, the Gloucester Green market, the Bodlein library, the Oxford canal, Blackwells, the oxford castle, the Perch, all the churches, the little ice cream shops, all the meadows, the charity shops, and pretty much everything about it. It's the best place on earth- it's home to me.
I'm really happy that it's been a three day weekend because that means I have so much time to be able to write and do all the things. I think I should probably just start listing off all the things that I like because that should probably get me a lot of words and also it's getting closer to Thanksgiving so it's fun to list off the things I'm grateful for. I am grateful for the following- my amazing family, my friends, swc , writing, nanowrimo, all of my books, my home, my piano, my violin, my guitar, my ukulele, my ability to get an education, stuffed animals, hats, scarves, big sweaters, slippers, blankets, bookmarks, chocolate, ice cream, big fluffy pajama pants, the smell of fresh laundry, the smell of brownies, rain, water, rivers, Jane Austen novels, hairties, and so many other things.

Another rant I guess

I am now ranting because I reallly need to get those words done for the day. I am several thousand words ahead on my nano project and I am so proud because it has driven me crazy for the past couple days because last Saturday, I barely got enough words, because I was over at a freind's house to help her with a few things. My face is really itchy right now and I don't know why. I was playing piano for a few minutes a couple minutes ago and I was trying to play Christmas hymns because my seminary teacher is totally going to ask me to play piano as soon as thanksgiving ends because I'm one of the only people in the class who can play piano, which is really annoying since I don't love to play in front of people, especially since the other two people in my class are so much better at piano than I am since I only took lessons for a few weeks since I was six and I've just been teaching myself ever since, but one of the people in my class is about as close to a prodigy as you can be without really being a prodigy. I have so many pieces for Christmas that it's driving me insane. I have two different arrangements of The First Noel, plus a medley from The Polar Express, plus White Christmas, plus O Holy Night, plus Jingle Bells, plus Silent Night, and my recital piece for this Thursday, AND my piece for next month, and my passion piece, which is the really pretty violin solo from Pride and Prejudice, one of the single greatest movies of all time. The filming, the acting, the script, the music, the story, the costumes, the emotions- it's just an absolutely beautiful movie, one of the greatest of all time. I really should probably go get out of my pajamas because it's pretty much midday and I am needing to go get my vaccine in just a few hours. I really want to stand up and turn the fan on but nobody's got that kind of time. Ahhh I have to write faster because this war is going to end soon and we now have another war and if someone doesn't help me soon, we are going to be destroyed in this war, and that will really not be fun. Ooh my parents said that there's a really cool performance that we might go see. There are so many performances around this time of year, between all of my performances and all of the ones that I wanted to go see, because one of our city's orchestras is playing the Messiah for Christmastime and I've always wanted to go see it, plus someone is doing a live form of some disney movies and I want to go see that. I am really getting sleepy and I absolutely have to get the words done because this is really important that I get this war done and gosh darn it I have to answer someone about babysitting for their kids and I am really tired because that's the day that I have debate club, and we're doing our first actual debate that day and I am really excited but also nervous since I'm by far the youngest person in the club and the least experienced in debating. This is a very stressful war and I've got to get all of my words done and then we can move on to mystery's war which is another really important thing but now our shield is up for the next few hours. I completely forgot in just a few short months how absolutely stressful cabin wars can be. It's going to be even more intense later in the month because I know for a fact that that will be a very stressful time of the month and ooh someone in my house just started a really fun conversation about politics which I actually love discussing but then also I get really cynical whenever we talk about that which isn't always fun for everyone else. I just like talking about those sorts of things that are controversial because I just find them so interesting and it's like a really big, real life logic puzzle. I think I'm going to try and get a thousand words off from this rant and I am now listening to my family get off the political discussion and now they are discussing things about the carribean which is fun because I've always wanted to go there. I am very sleepy right now which is which because that kind of just hit me and I wasn't that tired earlier and now I am. I am now staring at my keyword density report thing and it is telling me that my most commonly used words are really, because, now, get, just words, go, few, since, and about, which is probably pretty correct since I say those words quite a bit. I wonder what would happen if I ran my entire novel through this keyword thing and which words would come out. There would probably be quite a few instances of me saying my character's names, which are Keira, Callen, Asteria, and Damian. I am only a little bit away from getting the one thousand words and oh my gosh the pictures that are showing up on this are absolutely beautiful and ooh the oxford cam on our tv is making me so happy and nostolgic. I can't believe our family is already talking about what we're going to do in the final days after school ends, which is crazy because I feel like school just barely started but now we're almost to the winter break. I am almost to my final words which is really great since I feel like I should have done my orchestra finger stretches to warm up and get those last, final, very great words into this thing.

Another rant

This is now another rant so that I can get another one thousand words in because I seriously need people to step in and help with wars but it's okay since they're probably asleep right now and they need their rest and they should probably try to be smarter than me and actually rest up and little bit instead of being a complete idiot and wasting time like I do. I didn't even put on makeup this morning because I needed to get down here and get my words out. It's not like I normally wear that much makeup anyway, becaue it's kind of gross and uncomfortable, so I normally only do a little bit of mascare to make it at least look like I have some eyelashes and then I use concealer just for the normal things. I am really tired but it's ok. I wanted to go war non fi because they get forgotten so much, but lo and behold, they were already warred which warms my heart in a way that sounds really weird. You ever think about penguins? They are really great little things, all cute and fluffy and brown when they're little and then so elegant and sleek when they're older and they're fantastic swimmers. I love animals- and I love stuffed animals too. I have two little sloth friends that are about the cutest things you've ever seen. Their names are Swiss Miss (yes, like the hot chocolate brand, and her nickname is Missy for short), and then I have another one that's named Minerva (It's nickname is Minnie for short, and she's named that because her fur is brown, but it has a little bit of a grayish tint to it that reminded me of how Minerva, or Athena's eyes are gray in all the different myths). They are my little writing buddies, and I want to get one more to finish the trio, and I'm going to name that one Michaeleous, and his nickname will be Mickie for short. If you can't tell, I love nicknames. I usually give my characters a nickname, but it's really funny because none of my characters for my last book or for my novel right now have any nicknames. I use a nickname for Asteria every once in a while when Keira is trying to soothe her, but Aster just doesn't have that much of a ring to it as I think other names do. Ooh and my family is back on the political discussion. I am looking right now at my little sister's unicorn stuffed animal. It has really pure white fluff that is very feathery, with rainbow striped hair along it's back, and a rainbow striped tail, and little pink bows by its ears, and a shimmery pink horn that is peeling a little bit. I see another stuffed animial, but it's not really that much of a stuffed animal because it has some animitronic part inside of it so that when you press its belly, it starts to make little monkey noises, because, believe it or not, the stuffed animal thing is a monkey! It was actually my stuffed animal first, but I gave it to my sister because that's how a lot of things happen sometimes. I should really go practice violin soon because I have my recital on Thursday- which is also the day the percy jackson trailer should come out, but I digress- and I am really not ready for my recital since there is a bit where I have almost forty measures of spicatto chords that are absolutely terrible since the chords can get really hard and random and there are little rando gracenotes thrown everywhere in the piece, and then only a few measures later comes the part where I do sixteenth notes as fast as I possibly can, and the notes and fingerings are hard for that because there are a lot of string crosses and I need to practice to make sure that they actually sound clear. The other hard part is the part where I have to play a bunch of random slurs and shifts and I have to play them quietly but really clearly and I'm stressed because one of the people in the audience is the person I beat for getting into the next level of orchestra, and I'm worried she is kind of upset, because she really is a lot better at violin than I am, and she probably should have gotten in instead of me. My orchestra level is kind of stressful since I'm the youngest person in the orchestra and pretty much everyone in there hates me including the teacher but it's fine. I'm getting better and I think that it'll probably get better over time and once I'm in my senior year, all of my friends from the other class will be able to be with me in the orchestra and it'll be really fun to have them with me. I'm on a group chat with the for the orchestra, but it's really not the same. I get to see a lot of them in English and in choir, but it's still really fun. I am really glad because our choir songs this quarter are really fun. We're doing Still Still Still, which is one of my favorite Christmas songs of all time and also the first song I ever sang in a real choir. We're also doing a classical piece called Let's Imitate Her Notes, and then we're doing Most Wonderful Time of the Year, but I really want to be able to do another piece because I think it's more fun when we have more Christmas pieces. In orchestra, there are absolutely so many pieces and it is stressing me out. It's fine though since I still love playing violin and it makes me happy. I am on the verge of finishing another one thousand word rant so I'm feeling pretty good about that. Three hours left!

And another rant that should hopefully clear all words

Ok ok here we go and i am going to finish this whole war because my name is poppy and I am a being of pure and complete power of writing and that is absolutely not true but why not say it since I need that kind of motivation and positive thoughts to push me to the end of this never ending war. My fingers are absolutely dying as I write this but I literally cannot stop or I will start losing my mind. I see a bright light on the thing in the oxford cam and ahhh why won't this war just finish. I like llamas. Llamas are great. How often do we as a people think about llamas? They're really great and fluffy and they have funny little faces. I should probably go do something but no no no I am here to complete this cabin war and show the world that folklore is the greatest cabin in the world because it really is and we're going to come out on top in the end. I wonder if any of the cabins have lost any points yet because of any wars. Most of the cabins that i have warred which has been quite a few have ended up finishing their wars, which makes me really happy for them, because even as I'm warring them, they are doing so well and I'm so happy for them. I mean, I want our cabin to win, but if another cabin wins it's not like I'm going to throw a hissy fit. My fingers are going to die right now. This is the end of me. There is a really cute and small brown silkly pillow next to me and ahh. My shirt is a pinky orange color and it's a really great shirt because it is so incredibly fuzzy and it's just such sweater weather feels. I am very tired right now and I want to stop writing but I can never ever stop writing or I will lose my mind. I am typing at a really fast rate right now. There are some really amazing people who are able to finish nanowrimo in just a few short days and that has always blown my mind because it normally takes me twenty four days or so to do it, but there was someone on the november challenge chat thing on the forums who had already reached over like one hundred thousand words which blows my mind. I am going to reach five hundred words and then go check on the cabin to see if anyone has joined in on the war. There is a little green dragon thing right next to me and it's not a real dragon of course but a cute little toy that used to belong to my sister but none of us really use it anymore except when I sent it to my group chat from real life writing camp and suggested that the one guy who had made an ai put it into a dragon. My hands hurt so bad but I must keep wiriting and I really want to finish this war in time for me to go get my vaccine becauce I have to leave in time. The person who is on the phone with my parents right now has a really loud voice and I can hear everything they say loud and clear even though they are not on speaker. I can just hear everything they say. It's a little annoying when that happens, don't you think? I really want to stop writing but I absolutely cannot because this is absolutely vital that this whole thing gets doen and my fingers hurt so bad and I just want to be done but no this is important for folklore and I will not give in to this. I am strong. My name is Poppy the Writer, and I am strong like the trees that stand outside my door, like the knights in shining armor of old, like those who fight for what they believe in. I fight for the right to write. That's not a thing. What I just said made absolutely no sense and anyone who reads this knows that. If you actually read this, can you come onto my profile and give some keyword like chicken noodle soup or ranty rant or something along those lines? I just want to know if someone is actually that crazy to read these little rant things that I write to get this all done. My hands are really itchy right now but I must keep writing. Everything hurts but I must keep writing. I am so tired and weak but I must keep writing. I will not let this be the end of me. I am strong willed and I can overcome this little cabin war. I am stronger than this cabin war. I am braver than this cabin war. I have to keep typing and going as fast as I can because I have to get this done and my hands hurt so bad but I must get this done and there is only like eight hundred more words that I have to write to complete this war and I am strong and I will do it no matter what. This is what crazy people look like. Not the people who spend hours doing useless things but the people who spend hours at their computer, just typing away like crazy. But those are the same thing really. My fingers hurt so bad and I might die. My family is only slightly concerned about me but I will finish this war even if it kills me. This is what madness is. I am madness. I make madness look masterful. I am almost done with this rant and it is slowly killing me but I will make it because I can and I will. The time goes by fast, but I push on to end war.

Rant

Only a couple hundred more words left and I can be done with this war and bid it goodbye forever since there are only a few hours left in cabin wars and then we're done. I'm hoping that I can finish this whole thing in time but this is really stressful so I might just start saying and typing random words like there is a dog and my fingers hurt and there is another dog and a monkey and a unicorn and a book and a remote and a magazine and a book and a bunch of other things that are absolutely existant and I will finsih this novel and this is really hard and my brother is sitting in front of me and looking at his phone and my parents are talking about writng and doing all the things and everything hurts but I will finish the war even if it kills me and I see all the things. There is a spray bottle by me and there is a green dinosaur and maybe it's actually a dragon but I don't really know since there isn't a tail on it and it doesn't have wings either. My hands hurt so bad but I will get this done and everything hurts and I must get this done before I have to leave and everything hurts so bad and I must finish and I must finish and I must finish and there are so many little little things around me and I will die if I'm not careful with this war and there are pillows and blankets around me as I sit on this couch and stay focused on the screen and everything around me and my cabin is strong and I am strong and I will finish this even if it kills me and this is hard. I really don't want to stand up but this will be fine and everything is fine and this is all good for me. There are only a few hundred words left in this rant because I have to just get the war done and then I can move on to mysteries war because I am strong and I will get all of these wars done even though it's really hard and I have to get these words done and it's really hard and my hair is over my shoulder and its brown and it looks really curly right now which is fun becuase it's normally curly but this is a vrery fun kind of curly for me. I have naturally curly hair but its extra extra curly today which is so fun and I love it so much and I must get these words done and I don't want to stand up and there are people on the street in oxford in the live cam that I am watching and everything hurts but I will finish the war and this is important and I will finish this war and I have to get things done and this will be so hard to complete but I will get it done and I really don't want to have to leave until I finish this war and I get it done and my fingers hurt so bad and I must must keep writing writing writing and everything is hard and I must end this war. I am so sleepy because I stayed up until three last night but there are only a few hundred words left. I am almost done and I will ge this done and I am so strong and brave and I am really not used to being this positive at all. We only have just over a hundred words left that I have to write but this is really hard. I think I should be able to finish this war in time before I have to go get my thing done. It should be fine since I only have just over a hundred words left to finish and I should be writng my novel for november but no this is what I must do to be able to get all the words in so that we can be done with this war. We only have under a hundred words left to write and then I'm done and I completed the war all by myself even though it was really hard and I don't even know what I'm doing at this point and I am so tired and weak but I will finish this even though it's hard and I am so close to being done and as you can tell this completely broke anything that was left of my weak sanity but this is fine and everything is fine because I only have four words left. Done.

Last thing for right now—

AND HERE I AM WITH ANOTHER RANT BECAUSE THE WARS NEVER EVER STOP. My hand hurts so bad in ways that I cannot even describe. I was just texting with a friend a few minutes ago and she was watching brave with our other friend which is really fun because they both have very spot on accents whenever they watch that movie. I am really hoping that I can get all of these words in in time for the war to be alright and my fingers are dying but I'm so glad that this is the kind of war that I can't complete on my own because if it were I would have actually died. Everything hurts really bad but the wars are almost over and once they are over I am taking a very long break from writing so that I don't hurt myself. I am probably not taking very good care of myself right now but it's alright because I just have to get these words in and then I will be done. I am so so so tired and my brother is reading a book that looks pretty cool. I was reading Elantris last night, which is an absolutely amazing book by the legendary Brandon Sanderson. I really like the characters and the worldbuilding in it which is just so fun and I am so tired but I think I might be able to get all of these words in because my sister is eating lunch right now and it takes her forever to eat so I think I should have time to get all of these words in. I am so very tired but it's alright. I think that I should probably pop my ring finger on my right hand but I don't think I can right now and popping fingers isn't always the best thing to do. I only have a few hundred words left and then I am done with this war for the time being and I just have to wait for the shield to go down again. I am really tired but I will be able to get this done. I only have a few words left. I think I'll write a flash fiction right here.
Amelia ran down to the lake. The ground beneath squished in between her toes, but she didn't even notice. The blue sparks were flying, and she knew that if she caught even one of them, she'd be able to find what she needed to find.
Amelia wasn't the type to chase after superstitions, but now that she was down by the lake, those legends felt more real than ever. The blue sparks shone in front of her eyes. She leapt, using the momentum stones that she'd hidden in her boots to reach up and grab the blue spark above her.
She missed the first time, but with a second jump, she managed to grab the blue spark.
A voice invaded her mind, and suddenly, the world turned sapphire blue.

Archaic writing challenge

Another letter to the one I love

Thou art more clever than I. When I recieve thy letters, I often find myself laughing, even though I am often not aware I am doing so until I can feel tears of joy running down my cheeks.
If only I could join thee on thy ship, to help earn a fortune across the sea, instead of having to be seperated from thee. Though many would not admit it, thou art more fortunate than I. Oftentimes, I find myself idle, wishing to do something other than do my tedious things and think of thee.
I fear for thee often. If I were to ever learn that thoa hath drowned in some tragic storm, I do believe those idle, tedious things I do to fill my hours would cause me even more pains. To lose the hope to have thee back would be pain.
If thee say that your ship will land at London's harbor in a week, I would wait for hours.
Thou art always in my thoughts, though I am sure that the sea occupies thy thoughts more often than me. I fear that I, like my daily trivialities, have grown rather dull.
Praying for thee.

Daily for November 11th

The snakes slipped through a river of rocks, off to find that which was stolen from them.
A land, and they had long called their nation and home.
A land of serpents and merriment.
As the seven snakes began to crawl toward the grasslands, they silently eyed each other. Their emerald green scales blended into the grasses. Anyone who had passed through the grasses would not have seen them- they would have passed by in ignorance, unaware of the revolution that was about to occur.
Only I would know that they were there, for I had been watching them from the start.
The snakes call me the Scaleless One.
Others call me the Serpentwatcher.
I knew that I would be the one responsible if the revolution failed. The snakes- the foolish, foolish beings that they were, for their clever eyes and scheming looks- had placed their trust in me.
I did not know if I was worthy of that trust.
I did not know if I would be ready to betray them, even though the current holder of the land they desired promised to pay me well for my betrayal.
It wasn't bribery, really. Not in the truest sense of the word. Were they really benefitting me if they were promising not to hurt the people I cared about most? I wasn't gaining anything- except peace of mind.
Which, to be completely truthful, was something I missed sorely.
What reason did I have to align myself with the snakes? Being the Serpentwatcher was not something I had asked for. I woke with it.
To wake with snakes hovering over you, the way loved ones would hang over a deathbed- how could one person ever feel the same way ever after?
I was raised with good morals. My parents would have taught me that betrayal was wrong- it was lying, after all. To tell a person that they could trust you, only to turn on them later.
I tried to tell myself that I was doing this for my parents' good. This was to keep them safe from the beings who had stolen the snake's land.
The snakes slipped onward. I was half-tempted to grab all seven of them and run away, until they were far enough away from their home that I would never have to worry about my loyalties again.
And yet, the serpents continued on. I walked by them slowly, watching the sun glint gently off of their scales.
I wrapped my arms around myself. In only a few short minutes, the snakes and I would arrive at the land they'd been so adamant on taking back. A revolution was coming.
I did not want to be a double agent. I did not want to be a betrayer. I did not want to be responsible for anything.
Sometimes, it seems better if people never put their trust in you.
The land was in sight, only a short distance off. We were about to arrive.
I had only minutes to finally see devotion was.

Persuasive Essay to get Dailies Back

Dearest Daily Team,

I understand the desire to go on strike. I don't think you can truly call yourself a writer if you haven't wanted to completely quit, hide under your pillows, and scream at anyone who says the word ‘typing’.
However, writing is more than that. Can writing sometimes be a selfish pastime? Definitely. It can mean turning down activities to catch up on your word count, it can mean spending hours at your computer and making people worry about you.
But even more often, writing is about more than just yourself. Sometimes, writing is about community. It's about sending a story, an essay, a poem, whatever it may be, out into the world for others to read. It's about inspiring others to find their voice.
It's about more than you- it's about the hundreds of swc-ers who log on every day at midnight utc, waiting for a shot of writing energy. The SWC community, who, without you, would have no cabin wars. We'd have no 1k intros. We'd lose some of the things that makes this community what it is.
Think about it, dear daily team! Where would you be without your favorite authors? Those people who wrote, even though they probably didn't always want to! They woke up every morning, just to sit at their desks and write thousands of words, thanklessly typing away for hours.
Be like them. Inspire someone. Even if you'd rather bang your head on a wall and curl up to watch (insert your favorite movie/tv show here).
Your dailies are inspirational. YOU are inspirational (not me giving off coach vibes right now). By getting out there are writing dailies, you are inspiring me to get off Scratch and write my NaNoWriMo novel since I'm very behind today.
So, I beg you, get back out there. Turn off the tv-show (actually, maybe you don't have to do that… multitasking ). Pull out that drafting doc and write some dailies. Be the person you want to be. Never give up. (Daily)team work makes the dream work. Convince me to stop sounding like an elementary school baseball coach (this is definitely the part where I hand you all orange slices and tell you to stop picking dandelions on the field).
I implore you. I beg you. I plead with you. I beseech you. I ask you, so that I don't have to keep finding synonyms.

Yours sincerely,

Poppy <3

Note to self–

Current word count IN FORUM ONLY, NOT COUNTING NOVEL WRITING–

11,773 words
+
Any novelling words