hello! this is my writing thread for march '24!

dailies:
03/01 ✲ March 1st - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7834577/
03/02 ✲ March 2nd - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7835877/
03/03 ✲ March 3rd - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7838356/
03/04 ✲ March 4th - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7840760/
03/05 ✲ March 5th - n/a
03/06 ✲ March 6th - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7845077/
03/07 ✲ March 7th - three-word stories
03/08 ✲ March 8th - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7849769/
03/09 ✲ March 9th - cabin wars
03/10 ✲ March 10th - critiquitaire
03/11 ✲ March 11th - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7855488/

Welcome, leaders, campers, fairies, and trolls, to the March ‘24 session of SWC! We hope you're as excited as we are for the exciting month ahead of us. To start us off, introduce yourself to your fellow writers and jot down your goals for this session. Who's your favorite author? How long have you done SWC? Give encouraging messages and compliment each other's intros - some of this might just come into play in tomorrow's daily. Have fun, and happy writing! <3

03/01 ✲ March 1st ✲ 477 words

hello! My name is Nova, she/her, an INFP-T chaotic desi teen writer who lives in the US. I'm in anywaysamythsy this session, which is absolutely amazing, and I'm so excited for this I'm pretty shy irl, but I also love hanging out and talking with people (that's contradicting, I know ahaha). People have also told me I'm funny, clever, optimistic, and a nerd (I am very proud of that). I'm obsessed with words and a logophile at heart <3 I'm an artist, a bookworm, an environmental activist, an author (of course, that's why I'm here ahaha), a poet, an older sister, and so much more. My favorite colors are teal, coral, marigold, lavender, mint, sage green and pink.
Some goals for this session are that I want to be able to see improvement in my writing at the end of this session, make progress (and maybe, hopefully finish?) my novel, meet new people, and hit my word goal. I have so many favorite authors (and they often change as well, depending on my current favorite books ) but some are Natalie Lloyd, Supriya Kelkar and Kelly Yang because I admire the way they put emotion in their words <3 My favorite desserts are cookies, cinnamon rolls and brownies (and mangoes. Do mangoes count???) I've only done SWC for one session prior to this one - November ‘23 - and I loved it so much, I came back.
I’ve written for as long as I can remember. I think that would be around kindergarten? I was introduced to writing in my classroom, and the day I wrote that first sentence I fell in love immediately. I couldn't stop talking about my story, and wrote plenty of stories at school and at home. I actually drafted my first novel at around age 6. Of course, it was not that great at all (it was something about fairy sisters is all I remember now) but I loved that story. And I never stopped writing ever since. I've had so many unfinished novels as well, that I've left off, and they're still in the back of my brain. On my current novel, I've managed to go further than any other novel I've ever written, which is absolutely crazy to me.
I also am obsessed with my characters. They sometimes live in my head and talk…a lot XD.
I've been doing art for longer than I've been writing actually. Ever since the first time I learned to pick up a pencil, so maybe around Pre-K. I still draw now - and I've always loved drawing humans (never animals, because I am actually so bad at them hhh). My friends often tease me because I always draw eyes all over my paper. I've gotten so good at them now I can whip them up in under a minute and still make them look decent
And now is the time to say farewell Thank you for taking the time to read this!

Hello, swc-ers, and welcome to our second daily of camp! Yesterday was world compliment day, and we all exchanged compliments on our introductions. Today, we'll use them in our writing! Take someone else's compliment and integrate it as a focal point of your story. How does the main character react to these compliments? How does it affect other people? Complete this daily with a minimum of 250 words for a scrumptious 300 points for your cabin, plus a bonus 100 points for providing proof!

03/02 ✲ March 2nd ✲ 309 words

Lumi turned to the girl sitting quietly in the corner. She looked like she was trying hard not to say anything as she watched them all play.
She knew exactly who this girl was. It was the new one, Naia. She’d watched her before, trying to talk to them. And she felt guilty for leaving her alone that day when Tamara kicked that stick in her path. Lumi remembered that paragraph Naia had written that day in class, and…well. She genuinely seemed nice, not like Lumi thought of her.
It all swam in front of her eyes, and when she blinked again, she was right in front of her.
She could turn back now. She didn’t even like Naia in the first place. She had no idea why she was standing here, feeling guilty. This girl was the same one she’d been trying to avoid. But she was here now. Standing quietly, frozen, half of her body wanting to leave, half of it wanting to stay.
Naia looked up, and a flash of recognition burned in her eyes. She bit her lip and turned her wheelchair just slightly, angling it away from Lumi as her eye contact slipped away and her gaze turned toward the kids again.
Lumi knew Naia didn’t like her either, and she’d had good reason. Lumi had been as nice to her as the rest of them - which wasn’t nice at all.
Was she trying to justify Naia’s feelings now?
Lumi sighed and took a breath. “You sound like such a fun person,” she said quickly. And then she turned and ran away, but not before noticing the shocked expression on Naia’s face. She glanced back again. Naia gave her a small smile, still looking both shocked and even a bit confused. Lumi was confused with herself as well, but something inside her glowed.

Hello, patriots! Today is national anthem day, so you’ll be writing national anthems! Write an anthem for your cabin and 1-3 other cabins for a maximum of four anthems - 100 points per anthem in at least 100 words each. Be sure to think about the cabin’s values, history, and ethics. If you need some inspiration, head on over to this link https://nationalanthems.info/ to find a list of national anthems for you to draw from. Happy writing, adventurers!

03/03 ✲ March 3rd ✲ 346 words total

MYTHSY:
O land of Anywaysamythsy,
Cabin for the brave and strong
From which the demigods lift up their eyes;
Raise up your pencils
Unite under the goddesses
And we shall prevail;
And to those who wander,
The stars shine bright for thee.

O land of Anywaysamythsy,
Glorious and beautiful,
Where the word rivers cut through the earth
From decades of myths’ lands
Land ruled by many leaders before us;
Legacies we shall carry on.

O land of Anywaysamythsy,
Let us salute the cabin of the strong
Where hundreds of words have let us prevail.
To the goddesses
And land itself
We remain loyal.

Mist uncleared
And ruby eyes
To whom we feel so grateful
It is to the land of Anywaysamythsy,
Cabin of history and words,
Cabin of prose,
That we are loyal.


POETRY:
Her worth is unbeknownst to
Those who come across;
Oh, Poetry, your namesake itself
Upholding generations

Oh, to the prairies which stretch on
To the buds that hang every spring
And to every leaf that falls on our paths
To this land we sing;
Oh, Poetry, your faithful land
Protecting all of us

To you we thank
With every verse we write,
Poets shall stay loyal
To you, Oh, Poetry,
Land of words and rhymes

When a drought befalls
On the land we dwell,
It is Hope we still inhale;
To this land we are faithful
This land, our cabin, you see.


HI-FI
Do you know the cabin of ancient knowledge,
The place which to seek?
The land in which marble stretches beyond sight?
Land of Hi-Fi
A name echoed with pride

An eternity, we proudly say,
Captured in this land,
People have led
Age beyond age;

Hi-Fi, Hi-Fi
A name echoed with pride,
A cabin with wisdom beyond years
Captured in our hands.

A symphony, we proudly say,
That echoes through ages,
Towering archways, singing melodies
Day by day.

Campers in Hi-Fi
Land and cabin to which we find peace,
Centuries and centuries
Worthy of pride!
Do you know the land which to seek?
Only the land of wisdom and age,
Cabin of Hi-Fi.

For today's daily we'll be breathing in the air of spontaneity! Start by grabbing a die and rolling it - if you get 1 or 2, write in present tense, 3 or 4, write in past tense, and 5 or 6 write in future tense. Now roll it again! If you get 1 or 2, write in 1st person POV, 3 or 4, write in 2nd person POV, and if you get 5 or 6 write in 3rd person omniscient POV. Using this tense and POV, write 300 words of a story to earn 250 points, and an additional 100 points can be earned for sharing proof!

03/04 ✲ March 4th ✲ 393 words

future tense, second person (rolled: 6 and 3)

i’ve known you for a while, and you’ve known me for a while too.
i know you very well. i know the way you’ll wave at Megan in the halls at 2:50 P.M. I know the way you’ll shove your lunchbox under the table so it faces up, because that’s the way you’ll like it.
that’s also how i know you’ll be at the math competition today.
You’ll be at the stadium before 9:15, because you’ll always be early. You’ll stand up on the stage and wave to Megan like you will in the hallways as you’ll be hiding your nervousness behind your doll-like outside. But it will slip away as you face the crowd that will be staring at you intently, like they’ll be absorbing every second with their eyes.
You’ll tap your foot to the beat of the song we made two years ago. You’ll whisper to the curtains, and the stage, and the walls, you’ll tell yourself. But you’ll be whispering for you, yourself.
And you’ll watch me enter too. Your face will scrunch up in pain, and you’ll blink and turn away, mist covering it once again. Your pretty brown eyes will hold all of those memories that you’ve decided to throw away.
I’ll be there. I’ll watch you, with my eyes showing you - and me - all of those memories again. You’ll stare into my eyes even though you won’t want to.
And you’ll win it. Well - close enough. You’ll get 6th, which will be incredible considering the fact that there will be 30 other kids present.
And I’ll walk close to you, because I’ll have to. And your eyes will rest on mine, the way the clouds rest on the sky. There will be a hundred words unsaid. A thousand thoughts that won’t be voiced.
But only two will come out of mine:
“Good job.”
Two come out of yours too. “Thank you.”
I’ll hurriedly run away, and then turn back to look at you. Your eyes, your big beautiful brown eyes, will be full with all of our memories. Your lips will twitch slightly.
We both know each other. We will remember. Only a single blink will tell us the truth. Maybe there will be a day when we come together again.
Will. Will. Will.
The future is, was, will be yet to come.

@surfdudewave ✲ “sometimes, doors don't go where they're supposed to.” ✲ 130 words ✲ lost

“Sometimes doors don’t go where they’re suppsoed to,” said Naia with a wink.
Lumi sighed. “Are you actually suggesting doors can move? That’s physically impossible, Naia -”
“Lumi,” said Naia, a little softly. “Believe a little. Itt’s okay.”
Lumi blinked at Naia. She looked at the ground. “Where do you think it went, then?”
Naia ran down the corridor, stopping down at the end. She swiftly turned and sped towards it. Lumi hurried over too. The number on it was exactly the same - 46. Her jaw dropped.
Naia smirked at it. “See? I told you to believe.” She studied it. “The door wanted us to come here. We needed to see it.”
“But…but why?” said Lumi. “Why?”
“It’s trying to help us,” Naia said. She brushed its smooth wooden

writing paused; timer rung

@-BookDragon- ✲ “in the presence of ghosts, there is only one thing to do…” ✲ 145 words ✲
“in the presence of ghosts, there is only one thing to do…” Naia looked around at the room before grabbing a thick book off the shelf and slamming it on the table.
Lumi looked around the air and squinted at it. Hard. “Naia, all I see is a fly.”
Naia burst out laughing, which caused someone behind the shelf to shush her.
She calmed down quickly. “You might not see them. I might not either. But they’re here.” She looked around and whispered, “A lot of them have faced it too. Trying to do what we’re about to.”
Lumi sat down carefully and ran her fingers across the book’s spine. “Naia?” she whispered. “Do you believe in magic?”
Naia looked at her and came close. “Yes. Yes I do.”
“Me too,” said Lumi as she grabbed Naia’s hand “Me too.”
And they looked up at

writing paused; timer rung

Get ready to stretch your imagination with this daily! Today, you'll be inventing a new genre. It can be anywhere from something like a Cashier Memoir to Sci-Fi. Get creative! What genre would you love to write in? Then, write a story in this genre that is 250 words long. Post it in the comments, and try to guess other people's made-up genres. You will receive 200 points for doing this daily and an extra 50 points for sharing proof!

03/06 ✲ March 6th ✲ 382 words ✲ genre: Meow >;3 ✲ magical realism - historical fiction involving cats

The fluffy gray cat was almost invisible in the tiny alley. A couple cafes lined the street, along with elaborately designed lamps that didn’t serve their purpose - in fact, the moon shone brighter than they did.
The cat moved flawlessly, gracefully, towards the paper, dancing in the shadows, almost. She pawed at the newspaper, which was struggling to break free of her grasp. “1926”, it read in big letters. The cat couldn’t read the rest, sadly.
“Oh, Pearl! You’re still here, thank goodness!” A young lady in a white blouse turned the corner, gasping for breath. Her blouse was stained with mud. The cat turned its glowing, lamplike eyes toward her.
Carefree, they called her. Wild and young, they said. Even her appearance said so. Her tangles of brown, tumbling like there were little waterfalls captured in her hair. Her wild green eyes, the same shade as the cat’s own. The tiny freckles, like the grains of sand whispering as they flew across the beach.
Pearl looked her up and down, then stared at her sternly. “I told you not to stain your clothes today, Vivian.” A sentence, she knew, no one else could understand. Words they could keep to themselves.
“No, I had to hurry,” Vivian said, sinking down to the floor, her blouse getting dirtier by the second. “You don’t understand, they - oh, Pearl! I told you to stay hidden!” she snapped, running her hands through her swirls of hair.
“I have a child to take care of,” Pearl snapped back. “I think that’s something you have to understand.”
Vivian let loose a breath, her eyes softening again as she shapeshifted smoothly into a kitten, bronze in color. Her ears, sharper, picked up the radio sounds from the wealthy family living somewhere nearby. “How is she?”
Pearl stepped back and let the younger kitten pad forward. She was the same stormy gray, but softer, in a way.
“Pearl, they’re trying to take you away,” said Vivian, blinking her large eyes. “They’re getting rid of the animals on the property. They saw you today.”
“They did?!” said Pearl immediately, stepping protectively around the tiny kitten meowing in a voice of the same size. “Are you in trouble too?”
“No…no, not yet. But I’ll have to take you somewhere safer.”

@Zionykon ✲ “if my life was a movie, i wouldn't be the main character.” ✲ 155 words ✲

Lumi looked around at all of them. Breathless, but happy, hope shining behind their eyes. Pure happiness in every way.
If there were ever a movie about her life, she wouldn’t be the main character.
She turned her eyes upon every single person who’d arrived. At all of the trees swaying daintily in the wind; some ancient as the earth itself, some new and just planted. Animals gathered in the corners, watching. Thanking them with their eyes. Watching.
Lumi knew it wasn’t just her. Or even just her and Naia.
If there were ever a movie about her life, she would never be the main character. There were hundreds of people with hundreds of stories, and experiences, and feelings, and words, and thoughts.
If there were ever a movie made about her life, they would all be the main characters. Each and every one of them.
She stood proudly on the earth with them all.

Channel your inner gratitude for international women's day! Pen a 200 word thank-you note to a feminine figure – historical trailblazer or personal hero. dive into what makes her amazing, add a splash of humour and spread the love! This daily is worth 200 points, and you can gain an additional 100 points for sharing proof.

03/08 ✲ March 8th ✲ 289 words

Dear Greta Thunberg,
You are a hero to hundreds.
And thousands.
Millions.
You are my idol. I look up to you.
I admire the way you stood up - not even as an adult, but as a child. Not just for you, but for the whole world, for the animals and trees and plants and every single living soul.
I admire the way you do good to the world. I admire the way you consider every life equally. I admire the way you still stand, strong as a tree, in the face of pain. I admire the way you take things calmly, but speak truth no matter how harsh it is. I admire the way you speak with layers of many voices in yours, truth from other worlds, stories from people far from you.
I admire you because you do the right thing even when it’s hard.
You started a movement. It all started with you in 2018, a girl ignored and misunderstood, a sign with words written boldly. Right in front of the Swedish parliament. Because you were - and still are - brave. You fought when no one else did. You gave speeches, which I honestly admire you so much for - I might be painfully shy, but you had selective mutism, an even bigger challenge. This cause means so much to you that you fought it. You stood in front of thousands to deliver your words out. You must have been terribly scared. But you are incredibly brave.
You empower women incredibly young and incredibly old to let their voices be heard, to take action, to do something.
You are a strong woman.
Thank you for all you did, are doing, and continue to do. <3

The squirrel watches
silently
the foggy shapes are
coming.
They grow
bigger
bigger
bigger
and the squirrel notices
the way it
without mercy
destroys
destroys
destroys.
Leaves are separated
from their homes
and so are the others
who flee
and as the squirrel watches the destroying machines
come closer
it takes one last look at it’s beloved home,
it’s beautiful tree,
and it runs
runs
runs,
wondering
if there is another tree
somewhere out there
to live in.

Lumi carefully took out her notebooks from her backpack, laying them delicately in the floor. She smoothed their wrinkled pages and organized her markers neatly, placing them all back inside.
This was how she liked it. It was perfect and pretty, which was how she liked everything to be. She tied her strawberry blonde hair back with a clip and let the rest of it cascade down like a pastel red waterfall. Putting on her sandals, she stepped outside into the parking lot of the apartment she lived in, which was the kids’ play corner.
Some of them were already there. She grinned at them, waving. She was there in seconds.
“Did you hear about that new girl?” Tamara asked, her long ponytail swishing from side to side.
“New girl? What new girl?” Lumi inquired curiously, leaning in.
Emilia exchanged a look with Tamara, then sighed and turned to Lumi, willing to be the one to explain. “Alia saw a new family yesterday with suitcases and a moving truck and everything.”
“Really? How old is that girl?” Lumi asked, but her voice was drowned out by their loud talking. She was the first to notice Alia, who had just arrived. “Hi, Alia!”
Alia smiled warmly back. She was the nicest amongst all of them, Lumi had to agree, but they were all her friends, of course. Alia joined in the conversation immediately.
“I talked to them yesterday, guys. That girl is super weird. She’s so loud and messy and she just wouldn’t stop talking to me. Stay away,” she advised. Lumi nodded to tell her that she would.
She looked up at the perfect blue sky. Everything was perfect, and even if there was a not-so-perfect girl moving in, it would stay perfect. She breathed in and let it out, smiling.

Today is the first day of Ramadan, a month of fasting, introspection, and charity that is considered the most important part of the year for millions of Muslims worldwide. Do some introspection yourself - what are things you are happy with? What are things, both in the world and about yourself, that you'd like to see changed? Make a list, pick one or two things, and create a 200 word story out of it for 400 points. An additional 100 points will be given for sharing!

03/11 ✲ March 11th ✲ 312 words ✲ my friends, my shyness

My heart is pounding incredibly fast.
I’m staring at the woman in front of me, her calm eyes pointed toward mine. No sign of any of the anxiety I’m going through. Waiting for me, my response, my words. So she can critique my artwork.
My words tug at my mouth. I open it, waiting for my voice to use them, but my words skydive off the tip of my tongue and disappear.
There’s something swirling in my stomach, making my head hurt, making me feel sick. People call that having butterflies in your stomach, but that’s nowhere close to what it feels like; more of a hurricane merging with a tsunami.
My artwork is leaning up against the wall, prompting me to say something. I have to, for the whole process to work.
I can’t. I actually can’t. My heart beats sickeningly fast the moment I open my mouth, the moment I stare into those calm eyes. It would be rude to look away, but I’d very much like to.
“Aww, Nova,” says a voice in my head. Except it’s not mine, it’s my friend’s. “She’s super shy,” I hear her whisper to the judge mentally. I feel my mouth curl with an embarrassed smile.
I imagine my other friend, pushing me to the front, scolding me to say something.
I see my other friend, beaming at me, making wild hand motions. When she talks, my courage resurfaces.
I inhale, refocus my eyes to hers again. This time, they don’t distract me as much as they did.
“I made this piece with colored pencil, because it’s one of my favorite mediums to use.”
“Mhm,” says the judge.
“And I used these colors because they signify…”
I continue talking, but mentally I’m proud of myself. And immensely grateful for my friends. They’re not here, not right now, but I feel them surrounding me.

REBUTTAL ESSAY: WHY SIENNA IS NOT A GOAT
by Nova of Anywaysamythsy cabin, Realm of SWC

SWC is quite an interesting place. Imagination runs wild and so do the campers.
A controversy has recently shaken this realm of words: is one of the Fairy Tale cabin coleaders secretly a shapeshifting goat?
We have received the opinions of many, and even an essay to prove why Sienna is a goat - the exact reason why I came here to write about how Sienna is, in fact, not a goat.

These SWCers specifically seem to believe that Sienna is Tinkergoat, one of the mascots of the Fairy Tale cabin. When I interviewed her, she immediately swore that she isn’t a goat. She explained that her large attention span and good time management skills aren’t traits found in goats. She also said she is not a picky eater, unlike goats. “I /can/ explain my expertise in goats, however. My grandmother lives on a farm and has many, many goats. I have grown up around them, from naming them to feeding them. I love them greatly and treat them like my children, but they could tell you as much as anyone that I don't even reach the coolness level of a goat.”
She continued by saying, “Another misconception I'd like to address is the fact that Tinker doesn't support apples. This is simply not true. He wants to eat them and not share them, and that's all. I, on the other hand, oppose them as they are extremely poisonous and I am the only Archetype with healing capabilities. Therefore, I believe toads or mango arson would both be better alternatives to apples. This has been my defense, and I express my gratitude for your patience as I lay out my reasoning.”

To further prove this point, I asked Sienna to have a conversation with Tinker in front of my eyes, as one of the points against Sienna was that the two had never been seen together at the exact same time and that both of their comments were always within two minutes of each other. She provided proof, and I saw that each of their comments were only within one minute or less between each other. It would have taken much longer for Sienna to switch identities if she really were Tinker.

Even their typing styles are different. If you pay attention to Tinker’s comments, he always types with capital letters in every sentence, unlike Sienna’s, which are always lowercase.

And if you notice, the side which claims that Sienna is a goat happens to be the side which supports p01s0n0us apples (when, clearly, toads are much more proper ;D). It’s very much possible they’ve gotten a little delirious from all of those apples and proposed a highly ridiculous claim.

With all of this valuable evidence, you can clearly see why Sienna isn’t a goat. However, a new SWCmystery arises from the truth. There is someone out there who hides behind this alter ego named Tinker - and now that we know it isn’t Sienna…who is it?


evidence link:
https://scratch.mit.edu/users/TinkergoatTheGoat/#comments-317203268

critiquitaire with @-SimplyWatermelon-/Summer :)
Just wanted to mention these are all suggestions and you don't have to use them

“Papa,” crooned little Gloria, who was not yet three years old. “Tell us a story.”

“Who was not yet three years old” sounds a little weird in my opinion. Maybe “who was not yet even three years old”?

Papa grinned broadly, and sat his little girl down on his thigh.

There's no comma needed in that sentence <3

We all groaned. “Paw, you say that every time,” said Charlie. “She’ll be fine.”

Is it “Paw” or “Pa”? I've seen “Pa” used more as a term for father, but if it's some kind of nickname that's all good.

“Long ago, when I was but a lad, my father sent me out into the woods each night to collect firewood. ‘Only men can brave these woods at night, Steven,’ he would say. ‘Show me you are a man.’

Every little noise scared me silly, but I knew I couldn’t return until I’d collected the wood. My manhood was at stake. So even if I’d seen a ghost, I couldn’t leave the forest without firewood.”

This is sort of a stylistic choice, but I got a little confused when you had that extra line and thought he'd stopped talking. Maybe reduce it by one space, like this?:

“Long ago, when I was but a lad, my father sent me out into the woods each night to collect firewood. ‘Only men can brave these woods at night, Steven,’ he would say. ‘Show me you are a man.’
Every little noise scared me silly, but I knew I couldn’t return until I’d collected the wood. My manhood was at stake. So even if I’d seen a ghost, I couldn’t leave the forest without firewood.”

if you can see, the two lines are closer together.

“Did you see a ghost, papa?” interrupted little Josie. Father only smiled, and continued his story.

“Papa” in Josie's dialogue should be capitalized, and no comma needed for the second sentence.

So I stood frozen in place, and eventually he took me as a tree and went away.

I think “mistook” might be a better word to replace “took”, because the bear was wrong.

Father chuckled to see our stunned faces.

It makes more sense grammatically to say “Father chuckled at our stunned faces.” <3

John, the oldest, sighed. “Father, is that really the end?”

Hmm - I like it, but I'd maybe want to see more description. I can't exactly tell what John is feeling here. Is he bored, sad, or mad? Something else?

Gloria started to cry, and Mother took it as a sign. We were all sent straight to bed.

Ahaha - I love this ending <33 I don't know if it was meant to be funny, but I had a smile on my face as I read this. I could just imagine the mother scolding all of them XD I love the way it abruptly stopped, and it was a really cute and great way to wrap it up

Thanks for letting me critique your piece, Summer! It was so fun and well-done, I loved it!

Ominous or lucky, thirteen has a variety of attributes – there are 13 loaves in a baker's dozen, 13 lunar cycles in a year, including a blue moon, and 13 cards every suit. Today, 13 happens to be a host's favorite number - for 350 points (and a bonus 100 for sharing your creations), you'll be writing at least 300 words using any line or comment from a host or daily team coordinator's profile as inspiration! Best of luck, and have fun <3

03/13 ✲ March 13th ✲ 489 words ✲ alia's profile: two shadows, reaching through

“Two shadows, reaching through”.
That’s what we were.
Two of us, intertwined, the moment we saw each other’s eyes; your blue ones, ocean-like, and mine rich brown.
We grew up together.
I saw your hair, your tiny head of poofy blonde hair at the park. Sea eyes wide, shiny, following the soccer ball. Content and alone, your back to the wall. Just watching.
I was the energetic one. I’d pounce and raise my arms to the sky and I’d jump and practically fly. Something in my body was always moving. But you were silent, peaceful, more so than any other girl I’d ever seen in my life. I was mesmerized by your calmness. I walked up to you and landed with a hard thump on the ground. And for the first time in my life, I was quiet, still.
You looked over at me and giggled. A tiny sound, escaping like bubbles.
I giggled, another tiny sound. I tapped your shoulder.
“Come play,” I said. You followed me. Your hands grasped for mine. Two of us, intertwined. Our shadows, spilling on the ground.
Our shadows were never apart since.

“Come play,” you whispered mischievously. Your hair was shoulder-length, and it had grown to ringlets.
I swept my new bangs back. “I’m coming,” I said. I grabbed my backpack and we spilled legos all over the floor.
I taught you to raise your hands up to the sky. I taught you to scream, I taught you to depend on people. I taught you to fly.
You taught me to sit. You taught me to stay long enough to see my name in the stars, to see the wisps of clouds. You taught me to listen, to watch, to be.

Your clear ring of laughter echoed through the hallways of middle school. Our hands were still intertwined, our shadows on the ground. My voice carried through the buildings.
Secret notes passed to each other, silent giggles and expressions.
Sharing food at lunch.
New friends, new classes, but the two of us were still together.

You let me cry onto your shoulder that day. I let you cry on mine. Your waist-length ringlets, mine a pixie cut. Your ocean eyes sparkled the same way. Never changing.
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Being 17 is hard.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
Our fingers laced, our shadows intertwined.

A goodbye. Your car, you sitting in it. Your sea eyes, staring at me. You would be 13 hours away.
My hand, reached out for yours.
You touched mine.
Our shadows spilled on the ground.
“I’ll call you every day,” you said.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I will too.”

You’re not here in front of me. Your laugh rings not as clearly anymore, muffled because of my phone.
You reach out towards the camera, a bittersweet smile unfolding.
I reach out to you.
Two shadows, intertwined.
Two shadows, reaching through space and time and borders and countries and places.

Iridescent rainbows
play on the surface
Something so beautiful
that the dolphin cannot ignore
It swishes its tail curiously
Flicking towards it
Examining it from all sides
And it dives toward it
Ready to play
The weird meshy thing wraps
sneakily around its nose
because the thing,
the plastic bag,
knows what the dolphin does not:
plastic is dangerous.
The dolphin realizes and tries to pull it off but
the cunning plastic has secured itself
The dolphin cries out,
but no one answers.

Lumi walked home from the play area. It had become dark outside, and the moon, though it glowed softly directly above her, was no help. She nearly bumped into a tree in the almost-pitch-darkness and found her way home slowly. She twisted the doorknob and stepped inside. She could hear voices, in fact; many voices. There were definitely not that many people in her family, so who was here?
“Hello?” she said quietly.
Suddenly, a girl in a wheelchair turned the corner and stopped directly in front of her. “Hi! You’re their daughter right? Your parents are really nice. Ooh, I like your outfit! So cute!”
Lumi was taken aback. “Um…thanks…”
The girl smiled at her. Lumi had never seen her before. Her brown hair was messy and curly, unlike Lumi’s hair, which was perfectly combed and pulled back. She was wearing a bright shirt with all sorts of colors on it, something that Lumi would never dare to do, and her hands were adorned with bracelets of all kinds.
“Lumi, come set the table!” Her mother appeared in front of her. Lumi wondered how she had come so fast. “Make it look nice, please. We’re having the new family over for dinner.”
Lumi suddenly tensed. New family - this girl was the weird girl. Alia’s words echoed in her mind: Stay away.
“I have to go,” Lumi said immediately, glad that she was required to set the table. She distanced herself from the other girl, busying herself with straightening the forks and spoons in a perfect, symmetrical way.
“Mm, this is better,” a voice said from behind her. Lumi jumped and realized that the new girl was behind her. She turned around and saw something in her hands. Seeing her gaze, the girl grinned and opened her hands, revealing a bird that she had made out of a napkin. She set it down on one side of the table. “I thought this looked much better than a plain one. Can you give me another?” She reached for the napkins, but Lumi blocked her.
“I think…I think it would be best if we left them where they are,” she said shyly but firmly. She didn’t want this weird girl to make birds with her napkins, which, by the way, looked perfect the way they were. After she had laid down the plates for everyone, her mother scooped some food onto each plate and they all sat down.
“Who did this? Lumi, was it you?” her father asked, lifting the girl’s napkin bird. “This is beautiful!”
“No, it was me,” said the girl, smiling at the compliment. “Thanks!”
“Naia, take some more food,” her mother insisted, already scooping more onto her plate. The new girl - Naia - made a face but let her anyway.
Lumi turned away, anger boiling inside her. She did not like this girl, not one bit.

critiquitaire with @-NightGlow-/Alana <3

It was a great site to venture through those woods - it was filled with magic, a horizon of what seemed almost impossible.

Ooh - I love the way you introduce the setting with imagery! “a horizon of what seemed almost impossible” is so beautiful <3 It sounds a bit wrong though. I think “a great site” is repeating when you use “those woods” at the end, because a site is a place and the woods is that place, if that makes any sense? You could do “It was a great site to venture through” or “It was great to venture through those woods”. (or you might want to replace the word ‘site’ entirely, because a site is where things are built - unless, of course, it fits the story ^^)

The leaves were colorful, the stone pathway lit up, and above all that, there were talking animals who were not frightening at all! It was such a magical place, one that you could honestly just lose yourself in - and that is what many ended up doing unfortunately..

A few suggestions here that are merely personal preference I feel like there could be more description instead of just “the leaves were colorful”. It feels like maybe you could use this as an opportunity to highlight the whimsical feelings of these woods? <3 And instead of saying “animals who were not frightening at all”, you could do the opposite and say how they're pretty, or pleasant, or whatever else With that last part, I'd recommend rephrasing it a bit like this, perhaps?:

and that, unfortunately, is what many ended up doing…

just so that it flows a bit better.

Sure, it was always lively and bright in the forest, but with every little bit of happiness that was produced, darkness inched closer, approaching quicker than ever. Amongst the animals, everyone living in joy - no one ever expected such a thing to happen.

Again, personal preference: maybe remove the “sure”? It feels a bit jarring, and doesn't fit the style of the rest of it.
And “produced” doesn't really seem like the right word there. Maybe try “appear” or “emerge”?

It had all come to an unfortunate end, with no sense of beginning from the very start.

ah I love that ending! That last bit really leaves a mark on the reader - the abstractness of that realization is so pretty <3 if I'm making any sense bwahaha ^^'
Alana, I absolutely loved reading this - it was a treat to my imaginative mind ;D The descriptions were beautiful and the way you weaved in the magic was amazing! I can almost see what you were envisioning as you wrote this, and it feels like I'm right there! I really love your style <3 Thank you for letting me critique this!

due 03/17 ✲ March 17th ✲ 1785 words total

part one: alba's flower daily
I admired Tansy Rhododendron.
She was that confident kind of cool, majestic eyes, the one who could calm my doubts. She had been since maybe first grade? Second?
And we were absolutely inseparable. I knew her every move, could guess her every feeling. In turn, she could mine.
Coming back to reality, I panted on the track, my ponytail swinging from side to side. People swerved around me as I stopped and took a long breath. Tansy stopped in front of me. “I brought a water bottle,” she said, tossing it to me. “And have some sugar, Zinnia.”
I smiled gratefully and caught it. It was nice to have a friend like her who looked out for you.
“I’ve got the sugar. I’ll make it through the track soon enough - you go ahead.”
“Okay - see you in a few.”
Tansy raced across the track in seconds as I jogged. I finally made it to the end and jumped off the track, scanning for Tansy.
“Tansy?”
Suddenly I heard a shrill laugh coming from beside me. I turned and saw a bunch of kids talking loudly, and right in the middle of them was Tansy.
Hadn’t she just told me she’d see me after we finished running? And who in the universe were these kids?
“Tansy!!”
A bunch of them looked at me, but Tansy was staring ahead unnaturally. She’d obviously heard me.
I shook my head and left, confused as to why Tansy would ignore me like that.
***
Hot tears spilled down my face as I raced toward the bathroom, hoping no one would see. Tansy had been ignoring me for the past few days and laughing with those other kids. I was confused and upset and miserable.
I ran inside, unleashing a sob.
And I slipped.
I slipped hard. Water was all over the floor, and my clothes were soaking. I winced as my ankle started to throb from the fall. My tears only added to the mess I looked like.
I heard snickers. Looking up, I saw the last people I’d want to see now: the kids. And Tansy.
I tried to make my tears stop, but they wouldn’t.
“Why are you friends with such a weak little girl anyways?” asked a boy to Tansy.
Tansy didn’t answer, but met my eyes for the first time in days. She walked forward, her shoes sliding in water, almost like the water was giving way to her majestic strides.
“Hey, Zinnia,” she said.
“Hi,” I whispered.
Her eyes suddenly softened as she looked at my form. Her fingers twitched. For a second I thought she was going to help me up and take me away from those evil kids.
Then she pressed hard on my foot with hers.
I gasped and looked at her, shivering. Her majestic eyes. Majestic and dangerous. Evil.
My eyes, filled with thoughts of my now-former best friend.

part two: constellation
Equuleus had always been a special young horse, others said.
Equuleus had a dark blue mane that shimmered royal blue in the sunlight, eyes that sparkled like a hundred suns. The clouds stormed when they screamed and the sky sparkled when they smiled.
Others expected special things of them. It weighed down heavily on their back.
Their whole family had been special too. Their great-great-grandfather had dived into the sea and nursed baby critters - the reason why they had begun to be known as seahorses. Their grandmother could grow flowers with each step. Their mother could fly, their father could whisper up flames.
Equuleus was just a normal horse. With a heart of playfulness, mischief woven through, like any other - although they could get slightly carried away.
Which is what happened one fateful day. The little horses began to play with an acorn, tossing it back and forth. One of them hit the acorn much too hard off in Equuleus’s direction. Equuleus galloped after it, determined to catch it.
The acorn was about as special as the young horse themself. It began to climb slowly into the sky, and they raised their hooves to grasp for it. They began to lift, lightweight, from the ground, lifting from the soft grass and onto the whispering air. The air swirled around them, the world falling below, lamplike eyes on the rising acorn. The sky was twinkling a welcome as Equuleus looked around at the unfamiliar but familiar scene. A calm sense of hope and contentment rushed around them. This was home.
They laughed, and the stars twinkled right by them. They reached for the stars, and right then the dull spots on their body lit aflame, twinkling like the stars beside them. One breath. In and out.
Maybe you can still see Equuleus happily galloping in the stars. Maybe you can see them if you look hard enough. They’re still there, you know. Proving the unspecial-specialness of their soul. You can see them. (And maybe, possibly, the acorn too.)

part three: aesthetic
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/978782139/ inside a sprite

swc fanfic
featuring: @-BookDragon-, @smartypantschlo, @rocksalmon800, @PoppyWriter, @pepper-and-a-pencil, @ai_oue, @kindhrts-, @-Wraiith
note: this is pretty much the most ridiculous thing i've ever written - ignore logic as you read this please - also it's 900+ words long so like -
Nova stepped out of her car, her backpack in her hand. She smiled at her family.
“Have fun at your gymnastics camp,” she said to her sister.
“Have fun at SWC. See! I knew it wasn’t called Silly Wacky Cat!” her sister said.
Nova laughed and said her goodbyes to her family. She turned to the large, modern building in front of her and exhaled.
As they drove away, she started to walk up the many steps. And then the glass doors burst open for a girl with dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes…with butterfly wings. “HI NOODLE!!”
“ROCKIE!!” Nova squealed. “Ooh, love those butterfly wings!”
She grinned and turned around to show them off. “Thanks! They’re for Thriller.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, get in quick! Everyone’s already inside!” She grabbed Nova’s wrist and pulled her through the doors as Nova said, “Who - ??”
Her question was interrupted as she stopped at the front desk. One of the hosts checked her in and handed her a small Mythsy penguin camper pin. She put it on her pale peach dress (peach for Mythsy) and followed Rockie across the huge grand hall. There were little mushroom decorations around every corner and a handmade sign hanging that said “SWC Main Cabin March ‘24”.
A group in the corner was chattering happily, and Nova could recognize them all.
“Novaaa!” called Mouse, looking up, at the same time Bella yelled “Supernova!!”
Poppy, Pepper and Chloe said “Hey Nova” cheerily and Kenzie and Kaylee waved.
“Hey guys,” she said breathlessly, grinning broadly. She immediately noticed the large, shiny pins on a lot of them. “Oooh, leader pins!”
“We’re so special,” Pepper teased. Poppy grinned at her and Bella playfully rolled her eyes.
“Everyone ready for this session?” asked Mouse.
“YES!!” everyone shouted.
“Yes, I think we might possibly be,” Nova said sarcastically. Everyone giggled and said bye - it was time to get to the cabins.
Rockie and Poppy hurried over to a room marked Thriller before the campers got there. Pepper and Bella headed the opposite direction for Script, Mouse, Kenzie and Kaylee walked to Dystopian, Chloe ran towards Fairy Tales and Nova skipped over to Mythsy.
The day had been filled with introductions and games, both in the cabins and the main cabin. Now the sky was darkening, a sign that they needed to go back to their own cabins. It was past 11 when something happened. There was a shuffling of feet.
“What’s wrong?” asked one of the Mythsy leader’s voice quietly.
“I found rhododendron flowers on the steps outside the main cabin,” said another voice. It was definitely a host. Starr?
“Rhododendron flowers…as in, the ones from July 2023?” Another host.
“Yep,” came the hushed reply.
The first voice sighed. “We could call a meeting with the leaders and cos. Warn them, tell them what to do.”
The second nodded quickly. “Let’s discuss more in the morning. Good night, guys.”
There were whispers of good night, and the cabin was silent again.
***
The last thing Nova expected to see when she woke up was a horse.
“Chloe?? Where did you get that horse from???”
Chloe pointed out the door innocently. “There’s a ranch across the road. I found a horse, took it back here, that’s it. Only problem is, Gurtle doesn’t like it too much.”
“Oh yes, the only problem,” said Nova in a high-pitched voice.
“Get over here, Nova, it’s cute!” Mouse said, petting it on the nose.
“Yeah, Nova!” said Rockie, smiling up at it.
Nova shook her head. “Nope. Going to tell the hooostss,” she sang.
Mouse grabbed her hand and pulled her sharply face-to-face with the horse.
“Hey -”
Mouse smirked at her. “Cute, isn’t it?”
“Be quiet,” she said, suppressing a big grin. “Fine, it’s cute.”
“Told you, Noodle,” said Rockie to her.
She saw Bella and Poppy walk out from opposite directions sleepily. Both of their eyes got wide.
“Um - guys - IS THAT A HORSE???” said Bella incredulously.
Poppy blinked a few times. “Well,” she said delicately. “Wow. What’s happening?”
“Mouse? Mouse, there’s a campe - is that a horse?” said Kenzie delightedly. “Oh my gosh!”
“This is chaotic,” said Pepper, somehow appearing out of nowhere.
“Definitely,” agreed Bella. Nova nodded.
“WHO VOTES ON NAMING IT MANGO?!” called Kenzie.
“ME!!” shouted Mouse, Bella, Rockie, and Pepper. Kaylee and Nova raised their hands. Poppy nodded.
“It’s unanimous. Its name henceforth shall be Mango,” Bella declared.
Mouse decided she wanted to ride it, so she took off on it and rode upstairs (because apparently horses can climb stairs). And then Nova noticed little rhododendron flowers in a trail behind them.
“Wait!” she shouted and raced upstairs. “Mouse!”
“Yeah?”
She took a breath and explained the hosts’ conversations from last night. “You were there July 2023. Do you remember anything??”
“Um…hold on…” Mouse said, racking her brain.
Nova grabbed her shoulders and shook them. “July! 2023! July! 2023!”
“Oh, I can help shake her brain for you,” Bella offered, who had come up to see what was happening. “Mouse!!! Think!!!”
“Ow, stop - guys!” she protested. “Well, I -” She paused and looked at the horse again. “Hold on. I think xey’re my nightmare monster.”
“Wait wait wait wait. That horse, right there - that’s your nightmare monster?!!” Nova said.
Poppy had just come up and heard that, and she too was backing away slowly.
“Hey Poppy? Do you think we should…um…leave now?” Nova asked in a squeaky voice.
Poppy laughed nervously. “Yeah, great idea.”
“Let’s go,” said Pepper.
The three of them began to walk away, but a host suddenly stopped them. “That’s what’s causing the rhododendron petals?”
All of them looked at each other.
Another host appeared. “What are we going to do?”

03/20 ✲ March 20th ✲ 627 words ✲ TWO SECONDS BEFORE MIDNIGHT UTC WHAT -

Alice grabbed her sword and tightened her fist around it.
Her delicate but fierce blue eyes stared into the abyss of the cold asphalt gray eyes of her opponent, who was eyeing Alice with as much venom as she was throwing at her.
Her hands slid across the cool metal.
It was the fight that all protagonists have with the villain at some point. The point where the climax happens, and so does the inevitable. Good wins, evil falls.
Good wins, evil falls. Good wins, evil falls. Good wins, evil falls.
The words shone at Alice from underneath her eyelids.
She slowly stood in position. Legs apart, sword high, like her beliefs. Typical protagonist stance.
Her opponent shifted her body. Legs bent, low, glaring eyes, confident smirk. Typical villain stance.
Alice was here to protect her country. Nyx was causing trouble and danger. Protagonist, villain.
Alice wanted to save the children, protect the people, make things easier. She wanted peace and to stop the chaos. That was what she was here to do.
She raised her sword.
Nyx smirked at her, because she was the villain. Although all villains are scared during battle, just as much as the protagonist is, they don’t show it. It’s layered with a sense of confidence too, an evil kind.
Nyx caused chaos and destruction. She left danger with her footsteps, shadows in her movement.
The hilt of her sword was curved like a scythe, a glinting silver. She was here to cause evil.
She raised her sword.
The two clashed, hitting against each other.
A few minutes. An hour.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Alice asked in a sickly sweet voice, her voice almost smirking as Nyx looked at the ground, her chest rising and falling.
“I’m sure,” she said as she grabbed her sword with a sudden force and slammed the hilt against Alice’s blade.
And that’s when all sense of black and white was gone.
Not all the ones who are polite are the heroes.
Not all the ones who are fierce are the villains.
Alice’s smirk, Nyx’s facade crumbling. Alice’s delicate porcelain face, Nyx’s evil dark eyes.
“I don’t think you know how to fight,” Alice said coldly from above as Nyx fell. Her eyes were bright, hopeful for good’s victory, but also layered with darkness.
“Neither do you.”
That’s when all sense of black and white and red and green and blue and orange crumbled.
Not all the kind ones are heroes.
Not all the cruel ones are villains.
Murky grays and browns swirled around them. Muted pinks and dark blues, mahogany and sage.
Sometimes you need to do bad to do good. Sometimes you need to do good to do bad.
What if villains were just heroes who fought with different morals?
What if heroes were villains who were recognized?
What if Nyx and Alice were the same?
Nyx’s sword clashed again with Alice’s.
Nyx was confused now. She didn’t know if she was fighting for good, or for bad.
Alice didn’t know who she was anymore, if she was in favor of light or dark.
Maybe protagonists and villains never existed.
The words dissipated around them.
Maybe the stories lie. Maybe they always have.
Maybe there is no good or bad. No right or wrong.
Maybe there is no two sides, or true sides.
Maybe it’s about the eyes of one, the words of the stories.
Light and dark swirled into each other. The pages of the book in which they danced with their swords started to shift. They say a story isn’t a story without a protagonist or villain.
They say black and white aren’t colors at all. They’ve never existed. Maybe it’s all just the shades and hues and colors.

Happy World Poetry Day! There are many types of poetry, from haikus to odes, but they all have one thing in common: they are written about something the author is passionate about. For today's daily, it's your turn to write a poem about one of your passions! Whether it's ballet or world peace, poems can be about anything that you enjoy. Be creative with poem style, wording, and topic. You can earn 200 points for 200 words, along with an extra 100 for sharing. Good luck, (tortured) poets!

03/21 ✲ March 21st ✲ 232 words ✲ why am i so proud of this bwahaha <3

poetry.
What is poetry?

Poetry. Po·et·ry.
noun
literary work in which special
intensity is
given to the expression of feelings
and ideas
by the use of distinctive style
and rhythm;
poems collectively or as a genre of literature.

The dictionary is wrong.
There is no definition
For a magical thing like poetry.
No barriers, no
Rules, no
Manual, no
Wall.

Poetry
Words that gasp for breath
Alive, flourishing flourishes
Of curving letters -
Whispering memories
And sparkling to misty haze


Poetry
Where each word
itself
Has a sound:
Thunder, inspire, rise
Soft, curl, thrive, flaunt
Furbelow, garnish, plume
Magnolia, luminous, sweep

Poetry
Where words are magic
As fairies themselves
As saturday songs
And spring rains
Where i can make them
Scrunchuptogetherlikethis
And s t r e t c h
And let them
F
A
L
L
I make them SCREAM
I make them s o f t
pull them until they br eak and sn ap in half.

Poetry.
What is poetry?
Poetry is words
Simply put.
Poetry is colors encased in wrapping letters
Feelings tightly packaged in broken lines that
Continue climbing slowly down the page
Or maybe they don’t go down. Poetry is anything you’d like it to be. It can stay here in a line, any length. (this one is 28 words.)
Poetry is a thing with wings.
Poetry has no rules. It flies free. It satisfies your soul.