Hi, this is where I'll be Posting all my SWC writing this session, you can have a cookie or a mango if you ask nicely. All hail JINTY JINTY THE ALMIGHTY MANGO (only my sci-fi November 2021 peeps understand).

Word count for session: so far its 13550

My SWC history/discography:

-Adventure pirate ship July 2021 (1st session and 1st place)
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/29714679/
My writing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/529281/

-Sci-fi realm (sussy alien bakas) November 2021 (1st place all thanks to jinty jinty)
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/30313308/
My writing:https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/555001/?page=1#post-5746986

-Horror Avenue March 2022
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/30934584/
My writing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=18#post-6082495

-sci-fi hacking ring July 2022
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/31655208/
My writing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/612345/?page=5#post-6426590

-real-fi inn November 2022
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32118274/
My writing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/639365/

-Horror funhouse November 2023
My cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/33883177/
My writing: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/722031/?page=1#post-7622695

Daily #2: 2nd of November 2023, letter to future self

Prompt: In this activity, you'll be writing a letter to your future self. Mention any goals you have for this month, maybe talk about a writing project of yours? Anything you want to include is great We'll be opening these letters near the end of the session.

Points: Write 350 words to earn 200 points for your cabin, with a bonus 200 points for sharing proof.

Word count: 394

Notes:
-all names and similar pieces of info have been changed to meet privacy standards
-excuse the terrible grammar, I wrote this really late and I'm submitting it off my phone


Writing:

Dear me.

I hope you're doing good. Please say hello to everyone for me, and make sure to give Lilly and Jack some extra love. I hope the session went well for you, that you didn't quit halfway through, and that horror won. I hope that exams for school and flute went well and that you feel fully prepared for the MYO auditions that are right around the corner. I hope you've written lots, that you've loved this session just as much as the others, and that your writing is maybe a little better.

I hope you started running again and that you joined the cabin wars. I dare say you pulled a few all-nighters, so make sure to grab a mango, a cookie, and some sleep. I'm Low-key hoping we get at least one award at the night of excellence, but with how the end of the year is going, I totally get it if that doesn't happen. I hope we made some new friends this time around, and I know you're probably looking back at this wondering what was going on. Well, I gave my oral today, I have a throat infection at the moment, and we just got back from Sophie's house. I wonder what you're doing as well. Are you waiting for the session results, or have you stumbled upon this again months or even years from now? Hopefully the session gave you an incentive to start writing to Grey again as well, but I honestly just hope you've had a chill few weeks. I realise everything in the letter is kind of jumbled and out of order, but just know I was writing it at 11:04 on a Thursday night and have started to go crazy. I am supposed to have an Indo test tomorrow, but I'm pretty sick, so hopefully, mum let's me have the day off because not only have I not studied, but I have also missed 3 weeks worth of info lessons.

This is also a reminder to check in with everyone, give people a text or a call, and maybe even make some plans. And last but not least, take care of yourself and Sophie. I know *'s probably hit the fan not too long ago, or maybe it will soon, and no matter what, you both need each other.

Lots of love,

Clare.

394 words

Daily #3: 3rd of November 2023, Autumn Character Dynamics

Prompt: From rainy days to bookstores, pumpkins to scarecrows, fall is a season of many meanings in literature. Some of the most prominent interpretations of the season's symbolism are of harvest, new beginnings and prosperity, and entirely conversely, of endings, decay, and reclusion. In today’s daily, in 450 words or more, write a scene focusing on character dynamics, and convey them through the atmosphere using fall symbolism. For example, if two characters' relationship was just beginning to grow, you could use a harvest to symbolize new beginnings.

Points: This daily will earn you 400 points, and an additional 200 points for sharing your writing in the main cabin to have others guess the mood.

Word count: 1,234

Notes:
-excuse the terrible grammar, I wrote this at 2am my time and in have COVID so I was a little delirious lmao.
-I Really need to stop submitting these off my phone ._.
-i kinda got sick of this at the end and rushed it so if it seems a bit forced or makes no sense that's why lol


Writing:

The wind tickled my cheeks gently, the cool air biting my skin as I trudged along the footpath. I kept my head down, dully surveying the ground, avoiding cracks in the concrete, and stepping over them as if I were a child, only with less energy. I smiled a little, thinking back to when me and Sophie would jump along the street, this street, dancing between cracks and collecting leaves, our parents always lingering a fraction behind, watching to catch a fall or stop one of our petty fights. I felt a shiver run down my spine and quickly raised my gaze, turning my thoughts away from sweet memories like those before I ruined them, making them painful. I quickened my pace, walking briskly so I could get as much time as possible at the park. I followed a trail of crunchy leaves for a while, carefully avoiding the patches where they had rotted and stuck to the footpath. In a way, it was sort of pretty, like the dying leaves had made their own splotchy pieces of abstract art, but I was more concerned that I might accidentally step on dog poo than I was about the little pieces of leaf flaking off of the footpath.

I turned around the corner, my destination coming into view; however, my vision was quickly obstructed by the strands of hair whipping across my face as I lost my guard from the wind. I brushed it away in irritation, stopping impatiently as I tried to remove the last few fly-aways, my face all scrunched as if I had just walked through a spider web. I shimmied a hair tie off my wrist, beginning to walk again as I released my gair, leaving it to bounce behind my head in a low ponytail.

I walk across the road, mindlessly looking both ways despite the constant lack of traffic on this street, or really any cars at all. I cross the grass to the dirt track that starts strangely in the middle of the park and leads down to the reserve. A shiver runs down my back, and I pull my jacket tighter. It was really quite cold for this time of year—the end of March—not even half way through autumn yet, and it was especially chilly today.

I walked along, my pace more even than earlier in the afternoon. I studied each tree quickly as I walked past, looking up to the top of a gum tree alone amongst its deciduous counterparts. I searched beyond, the vauge outline of the moon just clear enough to make out above. Alarmed, I looked down at my watch, but it was only a quarter past 3, just an early moon, I suppose.

I finally made it to the last bend in the track, unintentionally speeding up as I rushed towardour tree. Or where I thought our tree would be. I looked around dumbfounded, searching frantically for something I knew I would find. I stopped dead, my gaze falling on the stump of an oak tree. I recoiled, scanning the area again as if I would find that the tree had been moved as a funny little joke, turning in circles as if I could simply laugh it off.

I stumbled towards the stump, half-tripping over a tree root and falling into it. My eyes, previously irritated and dry from the wind, began to water while the new lump in my throat made my chest feel all funny and tight. I had been so strong for so long, I hadn't cried yet, not even in my room after it happened, not even at the funeral. I guess I hadn't been present enough to feel anything then, but I sure as hell could now. I felt it all right, then, in the middle of nowhere on a Friday afternoon. This tree was like a living, lasting monument for us; me and Sophie would come here every chance we got ever since we could climb. We would go right up to the top and stay there for hours. We played games, did homework, and all sorts of other things. We'd even carved our names into the trunk with butter knives, not that it mattered anymore. I felt a new rush of emotion and discomfort; my shirt suddenly felt far too tight; my school shoes seemed to rub in all the wrong places; and the wool of my jumper was irritating my skin. 

I'd come here every day for the last few weeks to talk to her, my best friend. We'd laughed here, cried here, and fought here, but now it seemed there was no here. I slid down the side of the trunk, or what was left of it. Snot dripped from my nose as I wept, sobbing and gasping for air as if I were suffocating. I was suffocating. My head swam with thousands of thoughts as tears poured down my face. I sat curled up, shaking and trembling for a long time. My eyes were puffy, and I had a throbbing headache. I reached for my schoolbag, which I had thoughtlessly thrown against the stump upon arrival. Searching for my water bottle with outstretched arms. It met my hands instantly, and I snapped my head up.

Mickey was sitting cross-legged beside me, giving me a gentle look, her face creased with worry lines. She didn't say anything, and I'm not really sure how she even found me, but I was grateful she was there, even if I felt a little embarrassed. I calmed down slowly, and she picked up my things and helped me to my feet. I muttered an apology and a thank-you quietly, but I was too overwhelmed and worn out to make out her reply.

I'd never been all that close with Mickey; we had a few classes together, and we were both in the school concert band, but nothing more than that. I suppose we were sort of in similar social circles, and recently we'd just become a little closer. I guess I only realised how caring and sweet she was after this, though.

She walked with me silently down the path. I assumed we were going to her house; I knew she lived around these parts and mine was in the other direction, but I didn't have the energy to ask. The surrounding trees were mostly gum, and there were almost no leaves on the ground as we continued further up the track, the evergreen trees keeping them away seemingly through will power. I looked back gingerly towards the stump; it was a struggle to make out from a distance, but I could have sworn there was a sapling right beside it, a sapling I was sure hadn't been present earlier.

We walked for a while before we attempted conversation, quietly chatting away as her house came into view. We went around the side gate into her backyard, and she let me pick a few plums off the trees to take home with me later. Her mum had obviously called mine because I got a text a while later saying that I could stay for dinner.

We slowly walked inside, and she led me through to her room. I followed quickly, almost knocking over a vase of flowers that were clearly new as I walked down the corridor. A small smile was painted on my face because maybe now things could be okay.

1234 words

4th daily

Mary slumps down, leaning into the corner where the headboard of her bed meets her cream-coloured walls. She glances around her room, checking that her door is locked, before studying the pile of homework splayed across her desk, concealing her laptop and probably one of the books she was half way through at the moment. She rubs her eyes tiredly and gazes towards the alarm clock beside her. 10:47, getting pretty late.

The quiet hum of traffic dances through her open window, and she sighs, slowly getting up and plodding towards it, staring outside for a few minutes, letting the cool air swim around her for a few minutes before sliding it shut. She turns towards her desk and quietly stacks away her things, her hands slightly shaky with fatigue, causing her to drop a few papers here and there. She slides open her bottom drawer, hoping to quickly shove everything in and deal with it tomorrow. A quiet ding sounds from the other side of the room, letting her know that her phone has gone. She looks up, her head snapping instinctively towards the sound and accidentally smacking into the hangover of her desk. She grabs her face with one hand and feels her forehead, tracing her fingers against the throbbing skin and accessing her injuries. She rolls her eyes, unimpressed with her own stupidity and lack of awareness, before using her free hand to continue putting the papers away. She shoves them in forcefully, well aware that she's probably crumpled a few sheets but too tired to care. At first, they won't slide in, seemingly unable to fit. Frustration boils in the pit of her stomach, and she turns to face the draw properly again, pulling her papers out and putting them back on her desk. She pulls the drawer out further, trying to pinpoint the problem, stopping suddenly as her hands meet the leathery cover of a book. She rummages around in the drawer a little longer, finding the edges of the spine so she can pull the book out. Mickey tilts her head, attempting to make out the words on the cover but failing; the dim light from her lamp on the other side of the room insufficient from this far away.




She picks the book up carefully and tiptoes towards her bed, trying not to wake her sister, who is sleeping in the room next door. She slowly lowers herself onto the mattress, leaning down towards her bedside table, where she places the book, moving it around so that it's half under the lamp, its bottom right corner hanging off the side of the dresser. She hunches over it, studying the dark blue cover, sparks of recognition flying around her head as she reads the title ‘the big book of consolations’. Her dad used to read her and Thomas this when they were younger, way before Thomas had moved out or she had started year 12, maybe even before Jess had been born. She supposed he hadn't really read it word for word, but she didn't mind, the pictures having always been her favourite part. She smiles to herself, pondering over the stories her father used to tell her about the dogs and warriors forever painted in the sky. Remembering how Thomas would play with her, pretending to be a bear or one of the other animals from the book, chasing her until she was exhausted enough to finally go to bed. She flicked through the pages, scanning them quickly as she went. She comes across the saucepan, which, if memory serves, had always been her brother's favourite, even though she couldn't for the hell of it fathom why that would be the first on Thomas's list.

She moved on, skimming through pages until she found what she was looking for. The southern cross, It had been her favourite for a long time. You could see it from almost anywhere in Australia at pretty much any time of year; in fact, she was sure Thomas would be able to see it now if he happened to look out the window. The chances of that were pretty low, though, knowing him, he'd probably gone to bed an hour or so ago. Mickey shut the book and got properly into bed, sliding under the covers and flicking off the lamp. She gazes through the top of her window, just making out the starry cross in the corner. She smiles warmly, wondering if her dad could see it right now. Wondering if people in heaven could see the stars before silently drifting off to sleep.

768 words

Daily #7,#8: Bidaily for 7th and 8th of November 2023, exposition and revelations

Prompt: First bi-daily of the session! Head on over to Gigi's workshop to learn about providing exposition through actions and dialogue - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7630630/ Then, write a dialogue where one character reveals something about themselves to another.

Points: 550 words for 400 points, with a bonus 100 points for sharing

Word count: 1,056

Notes:
-excuse the terrible grammar, I wrote this at 2am my time and in have COVID so I was a little delirious lmao.
-I will fix the grammar properly tomorrow but i have to go to bed and i don’t want to miss the cut off for the daily so I’m just posting.
-Finding the motivation for this was a struggle lol

Writing:
Mickey saunters toward the window, winding it a little, leaving it slightly agar. She shifts her focus, looking through the glass and watching as the last flecks of orange and pink disperse from the sky. The fiery colours speedily replaced by static greys and deep blues as if someone had spontaneously painted over the scene. Gloria helped Mickey shift things around the room, creating an open space beside Mickey’s bed where they put a mattress down and set up their own, quickly transforming the room into a cozy sanctuary, grabbing pillows and blankets from Mickey's cupboard and scattering them around.

Cool air slowly rolls in from outside, carrying a vague earthy smell as if it had just rained. Gloria settled herself on the floor, leaning against the little mound of pillows, her eyes slowly becoming unfocused a weary look taking over her face, jarringly different to the smile she bore barely a minute ago. Mickey, studies her, silently watching the soft glow of fairy lights dance across her face and praying that she doesn’t start crying again. “Is there anything you want to do?” Mickey asks quietly “We could watch another movie or something”. Gloria looks over to their discarded game of Monopoly, lying on the floor next to the plant pot on the other side of the room but doesn’t say anything so Mickey doesn’t push it. Leaving them to stew in silence for another few moments.

“Thanks for doing all this” Gloria whispers. Mickey glances over with a grin and shrugs “It’s really no trouble”. Goria sighs “I’m sorry I’ve been so flat all nigh-” Mickey cuts her off, “No need to be sorry, I get it, you have every right to be upset” Gloria nods, her voice wavering “I just Miss her so much, even though it’s been weeks”

Mickey placed a compassionate hand on Gloria's shoulder. ”I know, Glo. Losing someone like that hurts.“ She paused, searching for the right words. ”You know, before my dad died he used to teach me about constellations. Gloria's face brightened, curiosity replacing her sorrow. “Really? Your dad taught you about the stars? That's so cool ”

Mickey nodded, her voice filled with fond memories. “Yeah, he loved astronomy and all that, we'd sit outside most nights and he'd show us the planets and the constellations” she pulled out a slightly worn book from under her bed. It was clearly well-loved but also well-cared for. She gestured towards it “he used to read this to me and Thomas out on the back porch”

Gloria's eyes lit up ”Could you tell me about them, the stars that is.” Mickey nods, elated by the interest Gloria shows. She grabs Glorias hard and pulls her over to sit on her bed, right before the window. They gaze upward and stare out, a comfortable silence washing over them for a moment.

“Alright, so, you've got Ursa Major, that's the Big Dipper, and right next to it is Ursa Minor, the Little Dipper. They're like… partners I guess.” Gloria smiles “I think my mum calls them the saucepans” she pauses briefly “Hey do you think you could turn off the fairy lights, they’re kinda distracting me.” Mickey nods and twists around to flick them off, she flinches a little and reaches over to the lamp on her bedside table. Gloria stops her though, tapping her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about the lamp, the stars are clearer in the dark” Mickey shrugs her off but nods, slowly repositioning herself.

Gloria watches Mickey quietly as she points upward, her fingers tracing the outline of a constellation. ”What's that one called?“ ”That's the Southern Cross,“ Mickey replied, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. ”It's actually my favourite constellation” Gloria f


“Wow, this is like the cosmic version of connect-the-dots” Gloria says, a hint of sarcasm laced through her voice. The pair's laughter filled the room as they giggled at Gloria's observation.

They talk for a while but Gloria begins to notice a tremble in her voice, and it might be the cool breeze but she could swear Mickey was shaking a little. Suddenly, a ghostly howl of wind pierced through the room, causing Mickey to flinch. “Hey, Mickey… are you okay?” Gloria asked, her eyebrows creased with worry. Mickey's usual boisterous laughter hit a hiccup. “Uh, yeah! Just… uh, startled by the wind, that's all. Fine!” she sticks her thumbs out, accidentally knocking into the blinds, causing them to slide shut. The room was plunged into darkness as the light cast by the moon disappeared. Mickey fumbled to switch on the bedside lamp. Her unsteady hands betrayed her bravado. Gloria observed Mickey's jittery movements in the dim light once the lamp flickered on, her mind wild with curiosity.

“Mickey, are you… scared of the dark?” “No! Well, maybe a little,” Mickey stammered, her voice barely a whisper. Gloria's eyes widened in surprise. Mickey, the confident and cool girl from school, was afraid of the dark. It was like discovering a secret passage in an old mansion. “Why? You always seem so fearless,” Gloria blurted out. Mickey let out a nervous laugh, scratching her head. “I guess I'm good at pretending. But when I'm alone in the dark, it's like my imagination runs wild. Every creak and groan becomes a monster about to gobble me up!” Gloria couldn't help but chuckle, the sound echoing in the room. “You? Afraid of the dark? That's hard to believe!” Mickey shot Gloria a playful glare. “Well, they say the darkest secrets lie hidden where you least expect them, don't they?” Their laughter filled the room, momentarily banishing the shadows. And the night wore on. The lamp shed a warm, cozy ambience, cocooning them within a refuge of newly shared secrets.

In that moment, Gloria felt a newfound sense of connection. They both had their own fears, and their battles to fight. But together, maybe they could find a way to navigate through the darkness. And so, the two friends lay there, under the twinkling stars, unravelling the secrets of the universe and discovering the strength that lay hidden within themselves. Falling asleep sprawled awkwardly across the floor.

1056 words

-This is what I would label, 2 am crack lmao, Got an exam tomorrow so I was really just trying to get this one out of the way

-once again, I'll fix the grammar and stuff tmrw ._.


I walk briskly, fiddling with the letter, repeating the directions over and over again in my mind as I make my way to the bus stop. As I approach I notice a peculiar sign stuck on the side of the bus shelter, big bold letters reading SWC with simply no explanation for what they stood for, I could have sworn the billboard had been a glasses add just a few hours earlier when I had taken Lilly for a walk but I shrugged it off and took a seat on the cool, metal of the bench, mindlessly scratching up and down the ridges of metal as I waited.

The bus pulled up shortly after, the same letters appearing where the route number usually would. I hesitated for a moment but looked down at the letter, reassurance flooding me as levered myself up the stairs.

I take notice of how nice the bus looks, studying the cushions on the seats and the onboard on the wall. In fact it barely seems like a bus, even a bookshelf lining one of the walls. The bus begins to drive forward frsing me to grab on to a chair, redistributing my weight as I move to the back of the bus. I slide down into a chair, take a seat near a little girl ho appears to be reading something. She looks up at me and I smile at her, something oddly familiar striking me about her expression. I watch as she turns back to her book, her curly hair sitting bouncing around her shoulders as she shifts, a bumblebee hairclip the only thing keeping the front of her hair tucked away and out of her eyes. I glanced at the cover of the book catching sight of the title “spirit animals”, one of my favourite books as a child. I slowly wondered more about the girl, like where her mother was, she couldn't have been more than 7 and she seemed too comfortable to be all by herself, however no parents were visible, in fact no other people at all. To think of it she hadn't even seen the bus driver but just as curiosity gets the better of her and she stands up to have a look, the bus coming to an abrupt stop as someone new climbs aboard. My focus shifts the a woman, not to much taller than me, dressed in a nighty and a pair of thongs. It seemed like something I would wear on a down day.

I smile, feeling an odd sense of safety and familiarity as I sit with these two strangers. The beginnings of a conversation blossoming, I wonder what they might talk about us”

450 words