Let's go!! More SWC! This year I'm in Horror (again???)

Anywho, here's my old SWC proof pages:
July 2023: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/695020/
November 2022: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/639162
July 2022: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/614334/
July 2021: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/527913/

Relevant studio links this year:
Main Horror cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35217591
Horror word counting: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35267001
Cabin Guide: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1041931065
Cabin Trailer: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1033250016
Main cabin: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35397636
My invite comment </3: https://scratch.mit.edu/users/savebats/#comments-336756415

My sister's proof pages this year:
Starthorn: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/769193/ (EWWW enemy cabin!! /light hearted)
fluffysheepwool: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/769253/ (Haha sibling cabin.)

Main Cabin Daily #1
Description: “Welcome, shoppers, to the July 2024 session of Scratch Writing Camp! We are beyond excited to have you all here with us as we explore IKEA. To get this session started, introduce yourself to your fellow customers in the Main Cabin comments! Make sure to include some form of joke, whether it be your favorite riddle or a silly pun, in your introduction to celebrate international joke day on July 1st. See you in the showroom!”
Words: 1,064

Wow! I had no idea everyone else would be in this IKEA at the same time as me! I should tell my mother, she would be quite excited to know where I’ll be spending my time this month. (Though, for my fellow Horror cabinmates, it comes as a great shock to walk out of our confusing town and into a place as bright as this, almost makes you wish you could stay here, and just rest forever.)

However, I will not be doing that, because it is only the first day of our group trip into this place and it is time to make a proper introduction! Hello, my username is @savebats and I like to animate! However, if you know me from one of the four other scratch writing camps I have attended, I also enjoy writing! (Maybe a bit too much?) Call me Bats (or Save, if you want to) and I’ll be all good to talk to (unless, of course, I’m writing or drawing).
Interested in other things I find interesting? Why of course! I’ll indulge you. Right now (and ever since I was in fifth grade, for reference I am going into college next year), I have been obsessed with the Pokemon Adventures and Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventures mangas. I also enjoy the Pokemon Anime (with Ash as the protagonist), Pokemon Fire Red and Leaf Green, Pokemon GO, and a couple silly fangames as well! Might not show it in a cabin as interesting as horror, but I am truly in love this this ridiculous franchise, and I will most likely be writing fanfic for it in the coming Scratch Writing Camp season.

However, I don’t JUST love Pokemon, as I am a well rounded individual (does that count as my joke?), who also finds herself enjoying Hermitcraft, the Gameknight999 series, Scratchcraft (my beloved and favorite SMP in the whole wide world, I can’t lie), and the 3rd Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Real Life, series. Lots of fun to be had there. Outside of minecraft related content, I also enjoy Hetalia, “emo” music, the Percy Jackson series (and related books), Warrior Cats, Sonic, a couple series aimed at older audiences than I should probably mention on scratch, and, of course, Shark Wars.

Oh boy howdy do I like Shark Wars.

I could probably talk for far over ten thousand words about Shark Wars (not kidding even in the slightest, I once babbled about Shark Wars for an hour straight in a car and I had a lot more to say by the end of it), so I should probably cut my fandom related interests interests off about there.

Though I could always talk about my favorite characters…

Okay, fine, alright, I talked myself into it. You can’t really know a person without know who their favorite characters are, right? Yeah, that sounds right.

My favorite Pokemon Adventures character is Red, though I think Gold is the best writing character in the series, my favorite Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventures character is currently Hareta for some reason, though it was Koya for literally like five years, I enjoy Ash Ketchum as a character shockingly much, and I don’t pick favorite characters in the games. I’m obsessed with Ethoslab to the point where there was a span of two days I was literally shaking because of how badly I felt I needed to look at fanart (probably my strongest hyperfixation moment, I could not, and I mean it, could NOT go a second without thinking about Ethoslab), I’m sort of in love with BaJin from Gameknight999, I don’t like to pick favorites in Scratchcraft, though my favorite one to draw at the moment is Ethmann, and I still like Etho in the life series. My other favorite Hermitcrafters slash Life Series participants include, Goodtimeswithscar, Grian, TFC (rest in peace), Zedaph, Stressmonster, and probably some others I’m forgetting right now.

My favorite Hetalia character is currently Slovakia but it’s a swinging pendulum between him, Romania, and Japan most of the time, my favorite bands are (in no particular order and paying no mind to the members of the bands and what they may or may not have done), Get Scared, Rammstein, Fall Out Boy, Animal Sun (can’t miss a chance to shout out my queen), and, unfortunately, Falling in Reverse. I also enjoy the other bands you would expect me to from that list. (Though I’m also VERY into Big Band and Classical music, and I won’t turn down a good country song either. …frankly the only genre I don’t like is Lo-Fi.) In the Percy Jackson series I have found myself obsessed with Percy Jackson himself, as well as Apollo, my favorite Warrior Cat is Jayfeather and always has been, I don’t really know enough about Sonic to pick a favorite character (though I’m leaning towards Rouge the bat), and Lochlan is my favorite Shark Wars character. I also like others, but if I started talking about Velenka, that one flying fish, Barklay, and Trank, we’d be here all day.

As you can see I’m a perfectly normal and well adjusted adult.

For my other creative choices (we’re not out of run-on sentence land, not yet), I prefer to draw traditionally so long as my materials are a BIC ballpoint pen and a lined notebook paper, but I find that the easiest digital program to use is by far Scratch Bitmap. It is genuinely the best digital art program I have ever used, though I also enjoy MS Paint quite a bit so maybe it’s best not to trust me too much on that. And, uh, yeah.

Now it is REALLY time for me to shut up and end this introduction, because, frankly, nobody wants to read this unless you know and agree with every character choice I make and every art program I find myself using.

Hmm, what else what else…

Oh! I go by she/her pronouns and I would appreciate it if people could please use them! Also, happy late pride month to my fellow queers, it was a good run (though, frankly, with Scratch Writing Camp in July, I always find myself preferring this month. Don’t tell anyone important.) Anyway, I’m glad to be here once more, and I wish everyone a happy Scratch Writing Camp! (Though, of course, Horror will win.)

I feel bad to do a zero proof thing so early but it's kind of a scholarship application with my name and school information.
300 words for the essay!

Okay, I'm back on this. WIP for a new chapter of my GK999 x DSMP fic.
Words: 1,012
Cws: Mentions of war, death, and panic.

“Not everybody has room for stuff like that in our inventories,”

Crafter ignored the rudeness in Hunter's tone, even though she was clearly the person among them most excited about traveling across the worlds and into the battle (excluding Topper and Filler, that is), it was pretty obvious that she was starting to get a bit scared. And who could blame her? They all were.

“Well, it's good that I have extras,” Crafter smiling, clearly understanding the scared girl below Hunter's tough shell, “That way we won't waste any time saving Gameknight,”

Hunter nodded, but she still shook Stitcher's hand off her shoulder nearly the second her sister placed it there. Carefully, Tommy watched as the archer emptied her inventory into the chest, steaks, some curiously uncooked mutton, stacks and stacks upon arrows, a water bottle or two, and three heavily enchanted bows. She likely had more, but Tommy was met with his own chest before he could make sure.

“It's always good to make sure we'll always be ready for anything,” Crafter explained again, as if Tommy hadn't been listening for the first time. Tommy nodded numbly, somehow, he did not feel ready to go back. Despite all he had been through, his body was screaming to stay.

Some small, somehow still selfish, part of him was whispering in his head. Did he really have to go back to that horrible place, just for a person he had never met in person? He missed his friends, but how did he know for a fact that they missed him the same? How did he know that this wasn't all some trap set by Dream, and apparently Herobrine and Entity? How did he know that this wouldn't be his death?

He had had quite enough of dying at Dream's hands.

Still, he dumped his inventory into the chest. Some food, weapons, a couple spare blocks, the seeds he had picked up in his first hours in this world, and, of course, his iron armor, still not even slightly chipped. (Though, somehow, he knew it was a little bit damaged.)

It wasn't really a very hopeful set of gear for somehow who was aiming to fight the people he was going to have to fight. Instinctively, he tried to hold back panic, but was shocked to realize that there was none there to find. He was beginning to accept what was happening, and, frankly, he didn't like that. He wanted to live!

He looked up from his chest and glanced around at the other's. Nobody else looked all that promising either. Topper and Filler both had a couple extra sets of chest plates and leggings, as well as both being equipped with no less than four shields and several strong looking pickaxes, but the poor kids were so tiny that Tommy couldn't help but be reminded of himself. The thought made him feel worse. They shouldn't have seemed similar. These kids had never died, and he wasn't ten years old, but still, there was enough between them to compare clearly and evenly.

Digger, their father, had an inventory stacked full of strong blocks and even stronger pickaxes, but the poor man was practically wringing his hands together as he looked over his children. It was clear that, despite the time that he had spent with Tommy and the other's on this little excursion, he was getting major second thoughts about going through this portal.

Tommy looked away, feeling a traitor of a sting in his eye. No. This wasn't the time to think about Phil. Not when he was already feeling so numb. But he couldn't help it. What would Phil say if he got that poor father or his children hurt? He knew it wasn't right, but somehow he was half convinced that Phil would throw him right back through the portal, or maybe to Dream himself.

Tommy looked to his other side, forcing the bad thoughts away. If there was anything limbo had taught him, it was that bad places were not best traveled when you were scared. He had to try to focus.

Stitcher had an inventory with several bows, but less arrows than Hunter's. She also had a couple spare beds for some reason or another, and a whole wad of bones. Tommy wondered about them for a moment, until he saw that Herder's inventory had clearly been too full of food and armor scraps to hold the extras. Not every slot was filled, but anyone knew that a filled inventory would just hinder a person, holding extra items in your arms or pockets was a great way to slow you down and get you killed.

Beyond them, however, was Shawny, who Tommy swore had the most interesting inventory of all. (Though, remembering the creaking pistons and hissing lava walls of his old prison made him want absolutely nothing to do with the items found there. In fact, there was such an impressive array of redstone components and tnt materials that Tommy couldn't help but shiver back into a mild panic as he looked on.)
Maybe it was better to feel nothing after all.

Crafter walked back down the line, whispering worries to himself as he peered into each of the chests, but evidently finding nothing that seemed too off from what any person would like to use in a fight. He knew them all so well.

But not me, that little voice in Tommy's head told him, he doesn't know me all that well.

“Is that a good enough set up for you?” Crafter asked someone, “Is there anything else you think you need for battle?”

Tommy continued staring at the ground, his hands shaking slightly. He wasn't scared. He was a big man!

“Is there anything else you need?” Crafter asked again, now sounding worried, “Tommy?”

Tommy jumped and looked up with a shock. Apparently Crafter had been talking to him. He shook his head no, though he knew it wasn't strictly true. He could really use some netherite gear, and maybe an instant trip out of here.

More gameknight999 x dsmp fanfiction!
Words: 1,001
Cws: Mentions of war and stuff.

“No,” he said, his voice much softer than he had been expecting, “I'm ready,"

“That's good,” smiled Crafter, though he was clearly still worried about the tall boy in front of him, “More than I can say about myself, personally,”

The villager released a sigh and looked around at the nervous crowd before him before he spoke again, ”Is everyone else happy with their current inventories?“ he asked, ”because Gameknight must be waiting for us,“

There was a short spell of silence, and Crafter nodded as heads slowly began to shake, ”Then fill your inventories once more, it's time to save our friend,”

Your friend, Tommy thought to himself, it's time to save your friend.

The quiet hum of chatter resumed once more. Apparently, the Crafters (whatever that meant) had known of this passage for quite some time now, and it only took the intention to cross the border to cross it. Tommy, quite honestly, didn't like how easy that sounded, but if these people (his new friends) believed it, he supposed he had to go along with it as well.

But despite all his thoughts and all the chatter, Digger's voice cut through and landed in Tommy's ears. “Topper, Filler,” the tall villager was whispering, “Don't you want to go back home? See your friends again? If we go through here, you might not be coming back for quite a while,”

Tommy pricked his ears to listen, and it was clearer than some others were, the wave of wolves around Herder's feet not even having the decency to keep their heads from whipping around to watch the father and his children. Digger, however, seemed far too worried to notice the new found attention.

“You know, your mother wouldn't have liked to let you go into something dangerous like this alone,” he was saying, almost desperate as his children filled their inventories once more, “It's not safe out there!”

“But what about you?” Topper asked, eyes wide as the child looked up at Digger, “You'll be going somewhere dangerous, what would mom think of that?”

“Not like we could ever know,” Filler grumbled, “She's never been there, remember?”

“Yeah,” Topper whispered back, “but we can help right?”

Tommy slowed. Their mother was gone?

Almost unconsciously, he found himself looking over to Stitcher, who had frozen abruptly, a stack of arrows clattering together in her shaking hands. It was almost like she saw herself in the words of that tiny child. How much death had these seemingly regular villagers been through?

Tommy frowned and looked down at his now empty chest. Clearly, all of them were in the same boat. Clearly they all had a reason to be scared of what was coming.

“Topper, Filler,” Digger protested, though his voice was sad and slow, “You don't know what a real battle is like, it's not a game!”

“But the village has been invaded, like, at least eight times,” one of the kids protested, almost sarcastic, like it was obvious, “It can't be that much worse!”

“No, well- yes, but-,” Digger started, stopping almost gratefully when Hunter suddenly cut in for him.

”Yes,“ she said, hefting a heavily enchanted bow into her arms, ”But the village has always been protected, you have warriors like me and Gameknight to thank for that,“ she paused, as if noticing her voice going weaker, and began again stronger, ”not to mention Shawny over here and his redstone traps. The world out there isn't gonna have the time to set up something like that,“

Topper and Filler looked slightly nervous at that, but they quickly looked to each other, and just as quickly regained their confidence.

”Yeah,“ Filler said, ”but how are we gonna learn to be like you guys if we don't start out now?“

”Pray you never have to be,“ Crafter murmured, though it was clear that he found himself agreeing with the tiny children. Worse, Tommy too found himself agreeing. Yeah, it hadn't been good for him to fight when he was younger, but he had needed to in order to survive, clearly, these two felt the same way.

He looked around, and the expression on Herder and Stitcher's faces told exactly the same story. (If with a twinge more regret in Herder's wide eyes.)

“I can take you home, and everything will be fine!” Digger said, though his strength too was growing weaker, “Gameknight will be fine without your help-,”
But what about you, dad?

The twins' silent question seemed to float in the air, and quietly Digger looked down. He knew just as well as the rest of them that they were going to need as many hands on deck as they could possibly manage.

”Alright,” Digger murmured, though it was pretty obvious how much he was regretting his words even as they came out of his mouth, “but promise you'll stay out of trouble on the other side, got it?!”

Topper and Filler nodded as if they were known for being perfect little angels, and the discussion was dropped.

In silence once more, Tommy looked towards the portal, the path of his eyes followed by the others. What were they going to find on the other side?

Would the swirling starlight even allow them to pass through? Tommy found himself hoping it would not, but he somehow knew that it would.

The music swelled around him, as if the very air around them was trying to convince them that this was the correct decision. The speckled starlight of the portal seemed to flash brighter with every touch of a phantom piano key.

Quietly, Crafter assured the group that The Source would take them to the correct place, they’re here to right a wrong after all, but still, regret sweeps Tommy. It was almost like the guy was trying to tell himself that more than he was talking to the others.

And yet…

He didn't even have it in himself to protest as he followed the others into the flickering tear of starlight.

Main Cabin Daily #2

Description: “Dear future self… Have you ever wondered what your future self will think of current you? Do you have any pressing questions for your future self? Now's your chance to find out - write a letter to your end-of-the-month self! Try to include some goals you have for this month, SWC or personal, and any questions you have for yourself in 200 words for 200 points.”
Words: 260

"Hey older savebats… I love you….”

Yeah, frankly, I don't really know how to talk to my future self, especially not in a letter that's open for the entire internet, but I guess I have some questions for you (or other viewers, if they want to), to ponder, possibly as a writing prompt, if that's something you still enjoy.
First off all, one thing I've been thinking a lot recently, not that I want to do it, but because I don't want to do it badly, what's the best way to leave something that you've been doing for almost half of your life? Is there even a proper way to do it? What sort of thing even qualifies as something worthy of hearing this question?

Secondly, are you having a good day? I'm just wondering because I have not been having all that many good days recently, and I'm wondering if all those memes were correct about things getting better as you get older, or if I'm correct in assuming they won't. (Our german teacher said that things would only get worse after all, though I'm sure not to trust her in all regards. *nervous laugher through my paper*)

And, whoops, that's my 200 words exactly, I guess I'm have to wrap up this ending in only a couple of words. (60 apparently.) I'm glad you made it, at the very least, and if you're reading this I'm glad your memory is there to check up on it. Thanks for being you (please tell me you're still me), good day!

Main Cabin Daily #3
Description: “Close your eyes and picture a kingdom- it can look like anything you'd like! Write a paragraph about it… now stop! Fast-forward ten years. What changed in the kingdom? What new developments are there? Continue to fast forward ten years after each paragraph until you have 500 words for 400 points (and a bonus 100 for sharing proof!)”

Note: Dystopian City in the Clouds of Scratch Writing Camp past you will always be famous. (July 2022 if you’re wondering.)

Words: 680

Trees twist around the walls of the kingdom, threatening to come inside. They seem to beat at the door, long since closed, ever since the king and queen realized how to become self-sufficient for a small group of the population. It was, technically, possible to sneak over the walls to go hunting, but the gigantic height of the trees outside the wall tended to stop most people. Starving at home, especially when you were already in the middle of it, seemed somehow more attractive to getting lost in a forever maze like that. For now, you would wait and be hungry. You were only five, anyway.

The earth cracked below your feet, and every day you seemed to feel more and more weightless. The other countries, Sci-fi, Fan-fi, Adventure, never seemed to understand when they came to visit. Maybe that was why the king and queen were taking you away. The trees seemed shorter every day, and now people heading out on hunting trips never seemed to come back. At least there was more food for the shrinking population, as people had been escaping into the arms of villagers and knights from Steampunk for quite some time now, but your family had never gone. Being 15, however, you began to feel a bit rebellious. Though this city was literally all you had ever known, and you knew that seeing the world outside may just break you. You still held resentment for the king and queen. If they truly deserved their lavish lifestyle, so did anyone else. You wondered if it was time to rebel.

The spires of the castle and churches swirl into the air above your head, twisting through clouds and groups of birds like the branches of the trees now far far below you. In the clouds, you no longer had to worry about hunger, but maybe that was because of your new group of friends. They always seemed to have their hands on some sort of bird or cloud squirrel to consume. After rising into the clouds, the city walls had remained somewhat cracked, making escape much easier if you knew where to step. You had resisted the draft into the king’s army, splitting with many of your old school friends because of it. Just being in a castle in the sky did not mean you were ever going to trust the queen or king. You knew what they had done to your family and so many others. You grip your spear, thankfully, the raid on the armory had gone well, though the guards' constant screams of “word counting scrolls” had struck you as somewhat odd when you had run off with your shiny new shield. Now you saw that they were right, but the sight disgusted you more. Acting like this country was in any place to do something as frivolous as count words. It made you want to lash out at the Steampunk citizens who occasionally dropped by with their flying boats or jetbacks, how could they allow such a ridiculous contest when people’s lives were at stake? 25 now, you had once thought you knew the world, but you now saw that it was bigger than you had ever imagined.

The clouds felt nice on your feet. The wind felt nice in your hair. You had never known running would feel this freeing. After losing the contest, the kingdom had lost their power, no longer able to control the shrinking amounts of citizens that believed in them. If they didn’t even have the power to win an international writing contest, what could they do for them? Finally, after your entire life until now (you were pretty sure you were 35), the door had opened and you were actually allowed out of the city. Maybe you would stay, or maybe you would leave, but as the towers shook with the strength of celebration from the newly liberated citizens, a new idea crossed your mind. You smirked and glanced at the band of rebels surrounding you. It wouldn’t be Dystopian without some sort of trouble, right?

Total words: 688

I was doing some image descriptions of my drawings, I would show you the images but I can't get them to upload unfortunately. qwq Guess you'll just have to live with the descriptions themselves.

Id: An unshaded pen and paper drawing of Gem and the Scotts (Geminitay, Impulsesv, and Smajor) from secret life smp. They are shown as busts, and are next to each other. Gem is a reindeer girl with freckles, a unshaded nose (suggesting it glowing) and two small antlers. She is wearing overalls over a shirt with a heart on it. She looks irritated. Scott is shown next to her, looking to the side as he speaks. He has makeup on his face and a streak of hair dye in his hair. He has several particles floating around his head, suggesting a wither hybrid, as well as a striped dragon tail that comes from a Speed Stinger from the How To Train Your Dragon show series. He wears a jacket over a striped shirt. Next to him is Impulse, who has the most simple design out of all of them. He has short hair, as well as a frown on his face. He leans down slightly and wears a shirt with a lowercase letter “i” on the chest. He has a streak of makeup down the left side of his face, over his eye. /end id

Id: A digital drawing of Ethoslab as a Minotaur, featuring two smaller doodles showing the design from slightly different angles. The main drawing shows him from the waist up, looking forward with slight surprise on his face. He is not wearing a mask or a headband. One of the other drawings shows him from the shoulders up in a similar pose, but he wears his mask. The final drawing shows him from the side, also from the shoulders up, looking forward with a worried smile on his face. In this one, however, he is wearing his headband. In all of the drawings his design is about the same, with black horns with red tips, one red eye and one black eye, an orangey red scar, as well as an orangey red nose and insides of ears, and fluffy white fur that pokes out from his jacket. He also has a tail in the more fully body drawing. He wears a black and green jacket, which is very shiny and has red patches on the shoulders. His mask is also black and very shiny, and his headband is black with white bands near the ends. /end id

Id: A digital drawing of Mumbojumbo and Grian from the back. Mumbo is shown as a pale human in a black tailcoat, dress pants, and vest. He has white sleeves. His hair is about shoulder length and black. Grian is shown as a robin hybrid, featuring wide brown wings that are partially out of frame, as well as a brown feathered tail and two feathers stuck behind his ear. He wears a very baggy red jacket and black pants. They are walking away from the camera through the darkness, their shadows laid on some sort of blue background. Grian is reaching out one hand to grab for mumbo, a smile on his half shadowed face. Mumbo has one hand on his hip and the other held up as if to wave Grian off, but he is boxed in by Grian's wings. He doesn't seem that worried about it. /end id

Id: A digital drawing of Bdubs and Ethoslab as hybrid species I don't usually draw them as. Bdubs is slightly in the foreground compared the Etho. Bdubs is shown as an artic fox hybrid, and though he is mostly off screen, you can infer that he has fox ears and a tail. He also has sharp fangs and a brown fox nose. His hair is white and held back with a red headband. He glares at Etho as he speaks, irritated. Ethoslab, a tail moss creature, ignores him. Etho has green hair mimicking the look of Spanish moss (or possibly comprised of it), and several roots and mushrooms growing from his head and through his brown bark coat. The fluff of his coat is not very fluffy, and sags like a lion's mane mushroom. They stand in a mossy forest, further confirming the consistency of Etho's “hair.” /end id

Idk where to put this so it's going here.

(Gif from the movie Goodbye Lenin.)

Pov: Scratch Writing Camp July 2024

Main Cabin Daily #4

Description: “For today's daily, search up and listen to an instrumental song – maybe it's a classical song, or perhaps it's a more modern song. Think about the mood and atmosphere the song is trying to portray. After you listen to a portion of or the entire song, write a story of 300 words inspired by the mood of the song for 200 points! An additional 100 points if you share the song-inspired story you wrote!”

Note: The piece I chose was “Come Drink One More Cup,” composed by Qian Chen (I think) and played by the Texas All State 5A Symphonic Band. I played this song with my high school’s concert band in tenth grade. It’s really hard to leave it behind. qwq I’m gonna miss my stupid group of fellow musicians. …I also know the story the piece is about, it’s about losing a friend to war and never seeing each other again, but I decided to make it a bit more personal than that.

Second note: I gave myself until the end of the piece to write this btw. That’s why it’s a bit stunted.

Words: 471

Around you, the musicians play. Their many instruments hum like the wings of cicadas, powered by breath just like any animal, or held with the power of muscles trained just for this task. The sound lifts you as you close your eyes. In your mind, you flick through your pages of music, able to see them clearly in your mind's eyes, notes and all, despite not viewing them for several years.

Has it really been that long?

You suppose you don’t want to leave.

The awful warbling of trills threatens to make you cry, echoing the shaking of your own lips as you float back into the life you lived. The life you were never going to live again. Despite everything you had trained yourself to do, to tell yourself that you would be glad once it was done, it was over, and you didn’t have a hint of hope left in you. You knew you had never been as good as the others, what did the promise of more music mean? Nothing for you.

The music swelled, lifting you from your chair as you stood. Gorgeous as wind chimes in a cold morning breeze, and powerful like an ocean current, threatening to take you out into a deep sea of reflection, and drown you there.

The instruments crash together, the blasting hiss of brass and reeds almost a cry for help. A rush of pain and panic. Something your group had never quite perfected, and something that you had always thought sounded awful. Now it stands as two meanings, both separate but somehow the same. You couldn’t help but laugh, it was as if you were still there. Hopping up and down the staff, you hear flutes scream, soon joined with the growls and hisses of the trumpets as they fight for control over whatever demon they must be conquering. They cry out, but they do not do it alone.

You feel your face contort. You miss them. You miss them all.

Suddenly, forcefully, a calm takes over. You open your eyes as the sound falls away, leaving one solitary trumpet. Muffled, muted, as if calling out for a lover. …or perhaps a friend that it knew it would never see again.

Others join once more, strong, powerful, knowing they must push on. A bassoon laughs at the bottom of the noise, knowing it will stand out in your memory. Flutes trill and dance, as if trying to apologize for the mess they made earlier. Bells tap like ripples in waves. A clarinet echoes, apologizing for something it did not do.

The song ends and you sigh, hands shaking. You pause the song, cutting off the clapping before it has even really begun. (It would be too painful to remember any more.) You will never be there again.

It’s over.

Oh my goodness we're finally back!

Here's the link to the project I was using as proof for a few days, but I'll get right back to posting my stuff here as usual. (Including the stuff in the project.) >^-^<

Weekly #1
Description: It's been a long time coming… Welcome to the first weekly of the session, legends! This week, we're spinning the clock around and exploring timing and pacing, Head over here to get started! https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/695082/?page=2#post-8038013
Note: This was really fun but I went a little overboard lol.
Total Words: 4,619

Part 1: Passage of Time
Description: “The first part of the weekly covers the passage of time. You can learn more about this through May’s wonderful workshop! After reading through the workshop, write 150 words of a scene including descriptions of the setting, characters etc. After completing this, swap your writing with someone else's, and write 150 words of their passage ten years in the future. … In total, you should’ve written 300 words in this part to move on to the next one. Good luck!”
Link to our conversation: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35397636/comments/#comments-264275966
Note: Of COURSE Scratch Discuss has to go down in the middle of Scratch Writing Camp.
Total Words: 1270

Original half:
Note: This is about Yellow from the Pokemon Adventures manga, just btw. It’s kinda ooc but you know me, of course it is. (Also, really sorry, I LOVE environmental science, especially when it’s about Pokemon, so I got a little carried away. qwq)
Words: 1,015

The forest was quiet, and Yellow stood silently between the trees. A smile slid onto her face as she looked over her garden. Vines from native beans and grapes crept up stakes and wire meshes she and her Pokemon had so carefully set into the ground, as well as around the trees that she had, of course, left right where they had always been. Several species of native berries enclosed the edges of the space in a pattern that would minimize too much spread of the plants into the rest of the forest. (Of course, the plants chosen would be no real problem if they escaped from the garden, but she knew better than to throw off the balance too heavily.)

With this much food growing, she was going to be able to teach the growing children of the Viridian forest the proper way to sustain themselves should they accidentally end up lost in the forest. (It wasn't nearly as hopeless of a situation as many seemed to think it was, unless, of course, there were a horde of Beedrill on your tail.)

Yellow frowned, hardly even registering the quiet noises as her Pikachu, Chu Chu, hopped up onto her shoulder, worried about her owner's sudden mood shift. Being basically attached to the forest, Yellow could always feel when something was a bit wrong with it, and those it had never been perfect in her lifetime, it had been getting worse recently.

Yes, people had long ago driven most of the forest Charizard out of the Viridian forest, but that wasn't the only problem. With the sudden less number of bug catchers due to a classification and rule change by the league, the already huge Beedril population had exploded once more. Even when it was only the removal of the Charizard letting them thrive, the Beedrill population quickly destroyed much of the underbrush to make room for nests and hives, much to the detriment of the lower levels of the food web.

Distantly, Yellow wondered if Team Rocket was once again meddling in the evolution department, because even with the classification changes, she was somehow sure that there were still the same amount of Beedrill trainers as there always had been. It wouldn't be the first time that Team Rocket had nearly ruined the ecology of her forest, after all.

Chu Chu made a second ticking noise, and Yellow forced herself out of her thoughts. What was she thinking? Humanity always caused problems like this, that had been Lance's entire point in his insane plan of world domination, after all, this was nothing new! Of course, she had to do something about it, but that was what she was doing!

Teaching the people around her about what could and couldn't be consumed in the forest was the first step in learning to share the forest with the Pokemon and animals who lived there, so this was a step in the right direction. Besides, she smiled to herself as she scratched Chu Chu behind the ear, rustling the newly placed pink flower she found there. She believed in the strength of humans to be better. She always had.

This new problem was just another to work to fix, and with her garden and newfound inspiration to teach others in the ways of a Pokemon understander, other solutions were becoming clearer.

The Beedrill problem was tough, as eating Weedles was not an option, due to both their poison and the fierce protection of the grown parts of the hive, so she had to think out of the box. However, she knew it could be solved (or at least helped) if people reintroduced the native forest Charizard population back to where they belonged, and as long as over catching did not occur, the underbrush should begin to return.

The other major example that she often found herself resting on, when it came to a large population of Pokemon in the Viridian Forest, was, of course, the invasive species of Magicarp that had begun to clog the streams and rivers of the forest. This morph of the Pokemon had come from Johto, and apparently thrived in the warm green waters found in the sunlit areas of the forest, quickly eating native fish species out of house and home. Thankfully, Magicarp were very easy to catch, and not all that hard to cook, so there were options that Yellow could take in that direction as well.

She smiled as she walked towards her house, a nice home with a newly placed grass roof (she had spent almost all of her Pokedollars on the remodeling , actually), where she kept many of her items and notes on the current status of the forest. It was a tough job, but one she greatly enjoyed. After all, her power came from the forest, and though it did not break when something went wrong, she often felt much less sleepy when the forest was healthy.

Remodeling her home had been a part of that. Making her living space more electricity efficient not only had the added bonus of making her harder to find on the map, but also more friendly for the Pokemon of the forest, the stronger of whom tended to stay away from tell tale signs of humans. Her garden was a sort of exception to this, but that was not because it kept pokemon away, but because it drew them nearer. Thanks to the overpopulation of Beedril and their destruction of the underbrush, it had become increasingly difficult for wild pokemon to find food, and a nice location for exactly that purpose was currently more of a positive than a negative.

Yes, she could tell.

There were ways to get better, she trusted this forest to heal. So long as she and others who cared about it stayed and did their best, she truly believed that it would get better. Of course she knew there was no fixing everything, but she also knew that, since it had gotten better before, it could easily get better again, so long as she kept fighting.

Trade half:
Link to part I’m writing based on: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1045117730/
Note: I really liked the original piece here! It was short (like it was supposed to be, NOT a bad thing) and really cute! Made me want to read more. Hope I did well. :) I’m not very familiar with this culture but I think I did everything alright?
Words: 255

“Remember when you ran into me in the market?” Omar hummed, looking down at Zaina, who sat next to him, enjoying the sights and sounds of the market she had spent so long away from. Her family owned spice shop was still here, but she was waiting until she could get her parents a gift before she visited, something to thank them for helping her on her journey.

25 now, she had lots of memories of meeting Omar in the market, so she laughed and poked him on the shoulder. “Which time?” A wind blew through the bustling streets, bringing the smell of cinnamon rushing past her, and blowing her hijab gently, “We've met here so often it's not like I can pick a time for you off the top of my head!”

“The time you accidentally knocked over a basket of fruit at my stand?” he answered, though his face made it clear he saw it as much less of an embarrassing memory than Zaina did. (Zaina herself found her hands quickly covering her face, oh boy. That had been something.)

“Always good at first impressions, aren't I?” Zaina laughed, spurred back into her search for items for her parents by the reminder of that horrible experience. (Knocking over a fruit basket at the shop of a boy she thought was cute had been more than embarrassing. Scaring, even.)

“I thought you were,” Omar grinned, following her, “I thought it was kind of cute, once I got over having to pick everything up,”

“Omar!”

Part 2: Dual Timelines
Description: “Welcome to the second part of this weekly! In this section, we’ll be learning about how to write an interesting spin on the perspective of a story – how to write a dual timeline. In short, this enables the writer to be able to tell two different stories that come together by the end of the novel. But first, to understand and master this unique spin on traditional storytelling, head over to Sandy’s fantabulous workshop. Once you’ve grasped the rough idea of a dual timeline, write 200 words for each timeline for a total of 400 words!”
Note: I got a late start on this because of the Scratch Discuss debacle, I couldn’t find the workshop for quite some time.
Note two: This is about an AU where Hareta (Pokemon DPA) is the one who gets sent back in time in Pokemon Legends Arceus. I didn’t really get into it as much as I wanted to, but it was pretty dang fun anyway! (Got a LITTLE carried away, as always.)
Total Words: 2,034

Timeline one:
Note: This half is about Rei, from Pokemon Legends Arceus. I have never even a little bit played that game.
Words: 1,002

Rei stood before the God, and for a moment he couldn't feel his body. How had he reached this point? How had he made it here? Where even was here? This was an unbelievable place, the sky around him was darkening, half invisible particles moving towards him as if he was being pulled along by some unseen current.

“Arceus,” he stuttered, falling to his knees, “Arceus, why have you brought me here?”

The God Pokemon did not respond, only looking back, its golden eyes wide, all seeing. It's face did not change. Its static hooves did not shift. The ring of solid light that encircled it shone in the light from the particles that shifted around it, but it did not change. No, in this place, it appeared early solid. So unlike all of the descriptions Rei had heard of the God in the past.

The only part of the creature that moved was the great flow behind its head, shifting against the current of air that bound the two creatures together, stuck in an endless cycle of being here, and there, and here again.

“Acreus, please,” Rei asked again, as if frozen, “Why am I here?”

Now the God moved, and Rei almost recoiled in on himself as the massive force of the Pokemon shifted, even slightly. It was like a tsunami, or a mudslide, or an avalanche. Mountains moving, worlds being destroyed and begun again, all as the giant head of the Pokemon dipped towards him.

Rei felt himself shaking as those horrible, staring eyes grew ever closer. It felt like they could see through him, like they could see all that he had done, and all that he would ever do. It was like the Pokemon was searching through his soul to find the very piece to rip out.

Of course, it did not speak.

Even the recorded encounters with the Pokemon hadn't mentioned something like that, and they had seemed far-fetched at the time that he had read them.

However, now, trapped in frozen fear under the watchful gaze of Arceus, Rei could not doubt them any longer. Hooves that could move oceans with a single step, a tail that had destroyed swaths of forest and crumbled glaciers in a single swipe.

That was who he was sitting in front of.

This was not so simple deer, no, this creature, whatever it was really made out of, was so much more than that.

Rei found himself bowing before he even felt the movement beginning. He pressed his nose to the floor, and with his sweaty palms, he could feel the distant touch of grass, hidden away by the strange force of wherever where he found himself.

It was cold.

He felt Arceus move more than he could hear it, and somehow that was more terrifying. Something this large, this powerful… There was not a single doubt in his mind that this God could be capable of starting everything over again, if it chose to.

So why had it chosen to meet him?

Softly, Acreus grew closer, dipping its giant head closer and closer to Rei's hair.

It did not sniff to see who he was, like any other Pokemon that Rei had ever come into contact with, nor did it even seem to breathe. It didn't need any of that. Clearly, the Pokemon God already knew exactly who he was, and what he would become. And why would something like that, something so timeless, so powerful as to create an entire new plane of existence just to bother a random passerby, ever need to breathe?

A sudden rush of cold shot through him, worse than standing up to his knees in snow without shoes on, and Rei let out an involuntary scream. Acreus' nose had touched his head, and it was with his scream that it finally made a noise.

A deep rumbling from within the creature, somehow both louder than anything else Rei had ever heard, and a million times softer than the softest brush of an owl feather through the air. It seemed to tell the story of the world, cold and forever, but fleeting.

And Rei could tell that it was not apologizing for the pain it's touch was causing.

”Acreus,“ he found himself babbling, his eyes squeezed shut, ”What do you want me to do?“

The God made the sound again, and Rei shivered as the cold intensified. It was like being caught in a snowstorm and freezing into a forever slumber, a feeling that Rei suddenly became acutely aware of, despite never having felt something similar. What could it be trying to tell him? What was it trying to warn him of?

Rei shakily opened his eyes, and suddenly, he saw everything.

He saw a universe before humans, before Pokemon. Endless stars, floating through his eyes as he stared in shock, were the only companion in the frigid vacuum. He saw the world as it was now, including his friends, searching in vain through the forest where he had last been seen, calling out for the man who had been taken by the God who belonged to none of them.

And he saw the world in the future.

Gigantic buildings, their walls made out of the air itself. Strage carriages pulled by their own force, without even a Pokemon or a human to aid them. Forests demolished and replaced with settlements larger than his mind could even comprehend. Places that should have had humans filled with nothing but ice and snow.

And someone who looked a whole lot like Rei. (If a smidge more muscular.)

Someone who seemed, throughout all of the flickering images, to be looking right at him. Looking right through whatever Acreus was createating, to see him.

Someone who seemed to understand exactly what he was seeing, exactly what he was feeling.

He reached out, and the figure reached out in response.

The illusion warped and shattered, and the particles disappeared as Akari finally shook him from his stunned silence.

Timeline two:
Note: This part is about Hareta from Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventure, who is currently my favorite Pokemon character. :3
Words: 1,032

Hareta froze in the middle of a jump between tree limbs. He heard something out there. A voice of some sort? But what kind? Still flying through the air, as if somehow he had forgotten that he needed to catch himself, he turned to look to find the owner of the voice.

But instead of crashing painfully into the trunk of the tree he had been sure he was going to crash into, the world seemed to warp around him. Light and darkness, at the same time but not as one, seemed to flash before his eyes, and he yelped as he felt suddenly dragged to the ground.

It was as if, all of a sudden, all of the voices of the Pokemon around him had fallen silent. All of their wants, dreams, futures hidden, much like the horrible machine that Team Galactic had controlled all that time ago. Even he, always so outspoken and loud (sometimes to a fault), seemed suddenly lulled into silence. Everything was quiet.

Except for that calling voice.

He struggled back to a standing position, confused (and yet somehow not worried), how natural it had felt to fall into a bow. If he was meeting something that sounded like that, he would very well like to see it as face to face as he can manage.

But the world around him was different, and suddenly oh so cold.

He hugged his arms to his shoulders, shivering at the lack of vest he found there. (And suddenly thankful that Mitsumi had forced him to wear even just a t-shirt and pants on this particular trek into the woods.)

Where was he? This didn't look like the place that he had been a second ago.

He blinked, fighting to rid his vision of the flickering spots that seemed to float there.

But they did not disappear.

He shrugged to himself, and then made the very quick decision to follow them. (He was known for doing things like that.)

As he walked, the world seemed to warp furthur, trees curling in on themselves and slowly, slowly, whitening. Ridges in their sides deeping to copy the columns of an old building.

Or some horrible mountaintop.

He shivered and walked faster, but his feet seemed stuck in the snow the harder he tried. Frozen in place like he'd been the target of Mitsumi's Glaceon… again. He forced an uncomfortable smile on his face, the voice that called him growing louder the further he followed the particles into the mist.

It grew darker.

Colder.

He kept walking. He couldn't keep whatever this thing was waiting for! Obviously it wanted to see him, if it didn't, his head wouldn't feel so clouded. If it didn't want to see him, the other voices wouldn't have been silent. If it didn't want to see him, he wouldn't have been so cold.

Why did he feel the need to fall to his knees and pray?

He decided to ignore the urge, the same way he chose to ignore the trees as they continued to warp and shift, and the way he chose to ignore the way the misty particles were now covering most of his vision besides them.

He chose to ignore the fact that it felt like he was no longer in control.

Suddenly, the air grew colder and he jolted to a halt.

It was as if he was being caught in a snowstorm and freezing into a forever slumber, a feeling that Hareta was suddenly acutely aware of, despite never having felt something similar. How could that be happening? What was going on?

His eyes opened, and he was standing before a God.

Golden eyes wide, a ring of pure light surrounding itself, movement like an avalanche, hooves dainty, but stronger than any machine. It was everything, and nothing, and as it dipped its head, Hareta couldn't help but gasp as the world shifted around him.

All of a sudden, he wasn't in the twisted forest he had walked himself into. All of a sudden, he wasn't even there.

He saw the future, cold and unfriendly, and he saw his present, with Mitsumi walking up the trail he had followed from the lab to reach his chosen trees to practice in, and he saw the past. A past full of people who talked of Gods and Pokemon the way he did. A past that was inviting as it was unreachable.
He squinted into the shapes he found there, warping and mixing with his own world's trees and mountains, unsure if what he was seeing was real.

But no, he was really seeing it.

There, across that distance, was a person that looked an awful lot like him. (If a little bit taller.) A person who had been staring at him this whole time.

He reached out a hand, and the other shape responded in turn. He felt the air shift, and pain exploded across his body as the vision ripped apart into a shining golden light.

He felt the sensation of falling, and all at once the voices of the forest Pokemon returned, loud enough to make him fight to cover his aching ears with his hands.

”Hareta!“ Mitsumi's voice called, muffled slightly by the pile of snow Hareta found himself lying in, ”Are you okay?“

”Huh?“ he asked, still disoriented beyond belief, ”Sure, why?“

”You hit that tree really hard,“ she explained, and though the hands that helped him up seemed to shake with worry, her voice was irritated, ”You can't be getting hurt like that!“

”Oh,“ Hareta mumbled, the blurry glow finally leaving his eyes when he shook the snow out of his hair, ”Sorry?“

”Were you distracted by something?“ Mitsumi asked, worry finally making it's way into her voice from her hands, “Was it another one of those visions?”

Hareta elected to ignore the question.

“Man I'm really hungry,” he said, jumping to his feet and showering Mitsumi with the snow that had apparently landed on top of him, “Do you think Gramps has any food in the lab fridge?”

He laughed, and for a second, he could almost ignore the feeling of those golden eyes still resting on his back.

Part 3: Pacing
Description: “For the third part of this wonderful weekly, we’ll be utilizing the element of pacing! Before you start writing, please hop over to Coco’s amazing workshop, where you’ll learn everything you need to know about pacing. / Done with that? Great! Now, onto your activity. First, think of 2-4 related story points/prompts that are each connected to a certain style of pacing, either fast-paced or slow-paced. Then, once you have your list of pacing styles, use a random wheel of chance online and input your list. Spin your wheel and rearrange your list accordingly, putting the ones chosen by the wheel first at the top etc. If you can't access an online spinner, you can use this project. Finally, write a 300 word story connecting each piece in the order you spun them in. …Make sure to put emphasis on pacing, tension and story flow, and, of course, have fun! <33”
Note: Put a lot of effort into not going crazy with this one, since I actually want to finish this weekly at some point. Are you proud of me??
Total Words: 315

Prompts (arranged in order spun):
Note: Btw, the project that is used for this is really well made! A bit hard on the eyes but not laggy at ALL unlike all those online ones.
Words: 11

Empty wrapping paper, a shattered mirror, a wilted flower, prying hands

Writing:
Note: I kept this really short (for me) because I’ve been overwriting a LOT. :( I need to get this done, dang it! (I really did put effort into the pacing here though, despite it being rather short.)
Words: 304

The party was over.

The guests were gone.

Empty wrapping paper littered the floor, pulling the attention of those still left to clear it from the carpets and tiles inside the house.

But I did not pay them any mind, no, I found myself bothered by much more important things.

In my room, I knelt carefully over the shards of glass that found themselves embedded into the thick gray of the carpet next to my plush bed. This had been my party, and yet, the only thing I seemed to have gotten as a result was a shattered mirror.

I wept, my heart torn.

The gifts had been wonderful, but as always, they had disappeared when my parents had stored them away “for safekeeping,” and now, due to a rambunctious cousin I specifically asked to not be invited, my most precious possession was gone as well.

As always, I had lost what made me happy.

Last month it had been a flower, now wilted, but still held by my parents like they were allergic to even the very idea of me coming into contact with something pleasing to me.

I wondered if they had set it up, asking that cousin to do this.

It sounded like something they'd do.

I stood, the broken glass digging into the soles of my crumpled shoes as I walked out into the hallway.

It was the last thing I wanted to do to put myself into their prying hands, but it was the only thing I could think of doing.

This had to end some way, there had to be a way out.

Maybe if I asked them really nicely, they would give me some of the gifts (rightfully mine) back, maybe if I cried quieter, they would help me sweep up the broken glass from my heart.

Part 4: Tie it All Together
Description: “Now that you have learned about timelines and pacing, it’s time to put everything together. For the final part of this weekly, write a story that incorporates at least two of the three elements that you practiced above, for a minimum length of 500 words. Have fun, you’ve got this!”
Parts chosen: Pacing and the passage of time.
Note: Again, I had to keep this relatively short for the detail I wanted because I spent all of my dang energy on part two. Sorry or your welcome. This was a fun weekly!
Note two: Pokespe wing au! My beloved!!
Words: 1,000

When she had first gotten the wings, she hadn't really thought much of them. Yeah, it had been scary and all, but she'd kind of had bigger things to worry about at the time, so she didn't really put effort into wondering where the odd new limbs had come from.

In fact, the first week or so, she hadn't even actually checked to see if they even worked, instead sticking them under a long coat and going about her day at the lab. (It helped that they easily slid under her arms, hiding easily under a fully buttoned lab coat, so long as no one bothered to ask why she was looking so… wide, that day.)

But after the week was up, she decided it was time to give them a test.

Her hopes weren't exactly high, even though her tiny little Natu had been able to carry her in a decently steady glide back when its own wings were only slightly larger than one of her hands. Flight with wings on a human was impossible, it was a fact that had always been drilled into her (and one she had always done her best to drill into her students).

But what kind of teacher would she be if she didn't do her best to learn new things from time to time.

She stood at the edge of the ledge, sweat dripping down her chin in the hot beams of the sun.

Above her, her Xatu Xatee was circling carefully, ready to catch her with its strong talons or with a powerful psychic blast if she ended proving herself right.

She trusted Xatee, she could do this.

She had leapt into the wind, spreading her wings and letting it take her suddenly higher in a clumsy imitation of the movements that she had always seen her Pokemon use to take off in the past. Thankfully, she didn't seem to have messed up quite then, flapping her wings forward and down when she remembered that she needed to gain altitude so as not to crash into the treeline behind her.

Excited, Xatee had made a whistling sound, and Crystal had unconsciously responded with one of her own.

She was flying!

She didn't know how that was even a little bit possible, but she didn't care. She was doing it!

The sun had felt cold at first, but much of the burn had quickly disappeared as she met the wind present in flight. Her clear extra eyelids, which she had learned early on through various sets of experimentation, kept her eyes from getting try as she rose to spin in the sky.

She had quickly reached Xatee, and the two had all but played in their excitement, despite Crystal still not quite knowing what she was doing.

Now, she was going to do it again.

(She flew most days, these days.)

At her side now was not just Xatee, but some other friends as well.

She couldn't really understand it, but she was glad anyway.

Arceus, the God Pokemon that Gold had fought so violently that one time and which she had attempted to catch another time, had blessed them. (That was another thing about the wings she didn't really understand, but chose not to question too deeply. She was thankful, and that seemed to be enough.)
Gold's wings were bright and long, and his tail exploded out behind him in the tell tale glow of a Ho Oh. Sometimes, just like the bird he found himself reflecting, he let out a rainbow trail when he got too excited in the air.

Silver's wings were nearly the opposite, dark on the backs and not all that much brighter on the insides, with a strange puff of white and red that he called a tail as his rudder. Similarly to Crystal, he had apparently taught himself to fly based directly on one of his pokemon.

And of course, they could not do without their teachers, stood Xatee, Silver's beautiful Honkrow, and Gold's rude Togebo, who was currently preening his weirdly shaped wings.

“Are we ready to fly?” Crystal asked, her voice edging on high pitched. (This was going to be the first time that all of them flew together in a few months now, and oh boy was she nervous about messing up mid air and getting laughed at.)

”Is that even a question?“ Gold asked, his usual snarkiness replaced by pure excitement for getting in the air. (Crystal was pretty sure he was going to try and dazzle the both of them with some crazy tricks if he was acting like that and they weren't even off the ground yet.)

”Then let's fly!“ Silver said, jumping into the air with his Honchkrow is a show of pure power as the two took to the wind.

Wings open, Crystal leaped after him, her square shaped flight feathers catching the wind and carrying her backwards for a moment before she got herself under control enough to catch up to Silver.

Gold followed, and a stream of rainbow light flashed after him as he casually outpaced them both. He had legendary wings, so Crystal did her best not to beat herself up over it.

”Where are we going?“ He asked, his voice somehow clear despite the fact that it shouldn't have been. (Crystal had noticed that about her winged form. Somehow they seemed to make it easier to tune out the scream of the air hitting her face.)

”Whenever you want to,“ She called back, ”I'm free off of teaching until the end of the month,”

She flapped her wings a beat and waggled her finger, “But I'm not going anywhere dangerous mister, and neither are you,”

Gold did a little twirl, and the rainbow faded back into the blue of the sky, “Awh, but you know me! Always getting into trouble,”

“Let's just fly, why don't we,” Silver called to them, “We don't have to be going anywhere,”

And that's just what they did.

Main Cabin Daily #5/Three Minute Prompt Word War with @oishiiocha__
Description: “Today marks the grand reopening for Word Wars! They can be found here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1044909158/. Word wars, much like word sprints, are an easy, yet fun way to earn more points for your cabin! They're also a great way to meet new people within the community while still competing with them to see who can write the most amount of words during the span of the war. Word Wars will be open for the rest of camp - more information can be found in the project itself. Have fun shoppers!”
Correspondence link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1044909158/#comments-412865159
Prompt: @dreamysolitude - “All my life i longed for it to come true. Now it finally has.”
Note: Usually my wpm is around 70 or 80, but somehow I tested it as 100 and I guess that spurred me to be INSANE with my writing speed.
Words: 287

Silver looked down at his shaking hands, watching as his chipped nail polish (courtesy of Green) flashes like strobe lights in the speckled light of the forest. He couldn’t believe it. He actually had a father, he actually had a family. And yet…

He stared at the flaming wreck of the Team Rocket flying machine, now just a hunk of steel and paint as it burned the sky with its light and his nose with its acid smoke. There, he could see himself, hoisted above the flames by a muscular arm of exactly the person he had never wanted to see.

All his life he had longed to find his father, or his mother, or any of his family.

Now he had found one.

But it wasn’t what he wanted.

Giovanni? The leader of Team Rocket? There was nothing that he wasn’t angry at that monster for, how could THIS be his father? How could that… that… BEAST be related to him?

In his mind’s eye, smokey and clouded with mist, he stumbled through the burning wreckage towards his form and his father’s, watching as the man cried out as the flames licked at his bare ankles and hand.

He was standing through all of this, for him?

Silver honestly couldn’t believe it. How could someone as evil as Giovanni even stand to help him? It’s not like he had known him for more than two years! No, he’d been taken far too early for that. (But now, as he stared, Silver was stuck wondering if he would have been better off should he have stayed at home. The mask of ice was evil, but Giovanni had been in business for just as long, if not longer.)

Main Cabin Daily #6
Description: “Bringing back a classic - the flower daily! Head over to Alba's lovely project here (https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/741579314/) where you'll find a variety of flowers and their hidden meanings. Now, pick your favorite three, and incorporate them into a short story of 400 words for 300 points! Make sure to keep the meanings in mind… those motifs should come into play in your story as well <3 You can also earn an additional 100 points for sharing proof!”
Title: Five Times Aaron Fox gave Georgia a Flower, and One Time He Couldn’t
Flowers chosen: Gillyflower (affection), Rose (love), Dahlia (yours till the end), Zinnia (thoughts of absent friends), Meadowsweet (uselessness), Marigold (grief)
Note: When I first heard the song “I Miss The Music,” from the Curtains musical, I thought that it was about the singer being in love with the lead of the play, who died in the beginning of the musical obviously. So that’s my AU now. Aaron Fox is still the singer, but Georgia Hendricks was the original lead, as well as his writing player.
Second Note: My designs for the characters are not based on the broadway cast, but instead on a MUCH smaller production.
Words: 1,390

Aaron Fox, a song writer for many musicals, smiled at his partner. Georgia, a talented writer in her own right and much more thoughtful when it came to planning ahead than Aaron was, sat beside him. Her platinum blond hair shone in the stage lights, lightly curled around her face and cascading down her back like a gorgeous snowy waterfall.

The musical was finally over, and it had been received well by the audiences and critics, cementing Aaron Fox and Georgia Hendricks as a musical writing duo for the ages, and they couldn't be happier. Now, with the curtains closed and the cast celebrating, Georgia and Aaron faded into the background.

“Georgia,” Aaron murmured, his hand fiddling behind his back around the stem of a flower, it was a blushing pink, much like his face, “I got you something,”

“What is it Aaron?“ Georgia smiled back, ”Some payment for carrying the team?“

”No,“ he laughed, though his voice shook with nervousness despite it, ”not that, I just thought-,”

Georgia raised and eyebrow as he trailed off, and he laughed worriedly, suddenly scared she may turn him down, despite him not doing anything yet.

“I just thought you deserved something, for being the star of the show,” he stuttered, wiping the Gillyflower out from behind his back, and scattering tiny pink petals all across the dance floor. Georgia didn't immediately respond, and he continued quickly, “It's not a rose or anything, but I just thought-,”

“Oh Aaron!” She said, grinning as she carefully took the flower into her thin fingers, “It's perfect!”


After the next musical they finished together, Aaron couldn't help but continue the tradition. (Especially considering that his little stunt with the Gillyflower had gotten him a date out on the town with the woman of his dreams, and especially considering that, in Aaron's professional opinion, this soundtrack had gone even better.)

This time, as he held the flower behind his back, Georgia pretended not to notice when he winced the sharp poke of thorns into his fingers. With his free hand, he nervously slicked back his already slicked back hair. With the amount of sweating he was doing, he swore it had come out of it's particularly crafted shape.

He knew he really had no reason to worry. He and Georgia were practically two sides of the same coin already, but since it had never been officially announced between them that the two of them were dating, Aaron was still scared to make large romantic gestures like the one he was currently making.

So, just like last time, he framed his gift as something for her as a songwriter (as a star), instead of as his love. Somehow, that sort of compliment felt better for him. Much easier to deal with a crush if it felt like he was just another fan in the crowd.

“I got you something,” he started, his voice naturally squeaking on the second word.

“Oh did you?” Georgia smirked, feigning not having noticed his very poor hiding of the rose behind his back, “I couldn't tell! Is this going to become some sort of tradition?”

He thrust the rose forward, the thorns pricking the skin of his palm and of his fingers as he all but white knuckled the stem of the flower. (Maybe he should have thought to remove those first.) ”I loved your performance in the musical,“ he all but rambled, ”Really a step up from last time-,”

But he was cut off as the woman of his dreams jumped into his arms, her lips connecting with his for just a second as they embraced. “Thank you Aaron,“ she said, hugging him tight and leaving the rose somewhat forgotten in his still outstretched hand, ”I loved your performance too,“

“Oh,” said Aaron, his mind spinning with so much giddy joy that he almost didn't register the actors around them giggling and whispering to each other, “Is this going to become some sort of a tradition?“

She smiled, her blond hair framing her face perfectly, ”I sure hope it does,”


The next musical was an even greater hit than the last, with Georgia receiving a gorgeous dahlia from Aaron, as well as several complementary flowers.

They laughed and hugged him, and now the song writer didn't even notice a little bit when the actors laughed and congratulated them.

He was too happy for that.

He could live like this forever, with her.


But the tradition seemed to come to a screeching halt when the Robin Hood musical began. The lead having mysteriously quit on the second day of rehearsal, a choice of a new lead had to be made. Naturally, as one would expect, the understudy of that strange Jessica was the first to step forward, but was quickly silenced. Somehow, as Aaron worked to figure out a new way to run his and Georgia's show, his love was torn from his fingers.

Worst of all, she seemed excited about it. Excited about leaving Aaron and his mess of a musical behind. Without Georgia, how could he ever hope to make it right?

So, when the third day of rehearsals wrapped up, and Georgia was still set in her ways as the new lead, Aaron made a mistake. In his mind, stressed by the mess of the musical that now only he seemed to be creating, he had somehow convinced himself that Georgia did not love him anymore.

This time, when she left her dressing room to talk to her fellow lead, the man who played Robin Hood himself, Aaron snuck into the door she had let swing shut behind her.

In the dressing room, lights were blinding and mirrors reflected his guilty face back at him as he quietly, silently, placed a meadowsweet in the middle of her main desk area. He knew she'd know what it meant, they had spent much of their relationship excitedly discussing the meanings of the flowers they so often traded between themselves.

So, not thinking about what Georgia would feel, he quickly left the dressing room.

He did not regret it, not one bit.


Not until opening night of his musical, which he had driven in the wrong direction in his rage and sadness at what had been done to him and her. What had been done to them.

But she didn't smile as she took the Zinnia from his hands, slightly wilted now from how long he had held onto it. No, she just thanked him quickly, placed the glowing orange flower among all the others that adorned her costume, and turned back to her dance partner, who joyfully took her arm and walked her towards the stage.

The stage lights didn't reach Aaron anymore, and he slunk back into the shadows. Regretting. Remembering. Wishing he hadn't been such a ridiculous idiot.

Wishing he could have loved Georgia for all that she could be.

Missing her music, even as she left to perform it with another man, he wished he could have listened to her a little longer.


Aaron Fox starred in delayed shock at the box that had been brought before them. In it was a picture of the woman he loved. The woman who had been mistakenly blamed for his failures as a writer and as a composer. The woman that the other actors were currently whispering about behind her dead back.

The woman who was now gone.

As the troop circled around the box, each footstep laying heavy with suppressed laughter on the dancing floor, each pretended to care. Some blew a kiss towards the box, or waved a handkerchief above their head in a mockery of bidding a lover farewell. If this was the best their acting had to offer, they might as well have been blaming themselves for what had happened.

So, when it was Aaron's turn to say something. He was almost swept away by the strength of his tears. His hands shook as he quietly lifted one last flower from behind his back.

He promised himself that he would never give another woman another flower.

So, next to the shoe shining rags, cigarette ashes, and pieces of torn reviews of the awful play, Aaron gave Georgia his last flower.

A marigold, glowing like his love for Georgia, which he knew would never wilt again.

He cried.

Main Cabin Daily #7
Description: HOW TO WRITE THIS DAILY “Step 1. Choose a topic for a how-to guide! Be as silly as you like - everyone here would surely benefit from reading How To Breathe 101 or How To Survive a Zombie Apocalypse. Step 2. Write steps for your chosen process in at least 250 words. Step 3. Present your word count to Mazasa the polar bear in the main cabin to earn 200 points, and share your steps for an extra 100.”
Note: This is self insert Pokemon anime fanfiction.
Words: 1,016

Title: How to lose a Pokemon battle:

Step 1. Be confident. You'll never lift your eyes from the ground enough to challenge someone if you don't believe that you'll win.

Step 2. Wander into a forest that you've only been in once or twice. (This is due to your confidence, completing this step lets you know that you've done the first step correctly.)

Step 3. Forget your ace Pokemon at the Pokemon center.

Step 4. Debate if it's worth it to keep walking (you're feeling rather confident, after all.)

Step 5. Decide that's really stupid, and head back the way you've come. (Secret section of Step 1 revealed: Make sure not to make yourself TOO confident, not bringing your ace pokemon into a battle you intend to win is arguably a worse decision than not being confident at all.)

Step 6. On the way back to the Pokemon Center, trip on an escape rope that someone left in the middle of the trail and roll down a hill.

Step 7. At the bottom of the hill, fall into a stream and get completely soaked. This makes you appear more of a target for other trainers, perhaps you will find a fight easier in this state.

Step 8. Clamber out of the stream and onto the bank. Here you find an apricorn tree, you take a mental note of it should you need any new Pokeballs. Being confident in yourself makes you think you'll catch some spare Pokemon on the way back to the Pokemon Center.

Step 9. Get back into the town (you did not catch any Pokemon on the way, much to your disappointment), and collect your ace Pokemon from the Pokemon Center. You try to play it off like you didn't forget him, but you think some kids were snickering at you and your dripping clothes when you closed the door behind you.

Step 10. Get back into the forest, take a cooler looking path this time, despite actually never having gone on it. You're feeling confident again (disregarding the secret piece of step 1), especially now that your ace Pokemon is firmly in your hand.

Step 11. Wander.

Step 12. Wander some more.

Step 13. Finally find your way into a clearing, you should be able to see a potion hidden behind some ferns on the other side, proving that you are still on a path occasionally traveled by humans. (You should work to hide how glad that makes you feel. You knew you were still on the path the whole time!)

Step 14. Pick up the potion and get back to wandering, it's never a bad thing to pick up some potentially helpful trash!)

Step 15. Wander a little more.

Step 16. You realize you are lost.

Step 17. Regret picking up the potion. (Secret exception of step 14 discovered: it's a lot harder to trace your trail if you get rid of it along the way.)

Step 18. Ponder if it's worth it to call out for help. You don't exactly have a flying Pokemon, after all.

Step 19. Still overly confident, you decide that it's not worth it. You'll surely find someone or something to fight out here! And then you can beat them!

Step 20. Get a little more lost.

Step 21. Hear voices in the distance and quickly walk towards them. (But not too quickly, you want to look like a worthy challenger and not like a lost lake child who had only now emerged from the waves of the lake they were named for.)

Step 22. Grip your ace Pokemon's Pokeball in your hand and force a smirk onto your face. You wonder if you still have some pieces of lettuce in your teeth from lunch. (If your walking partner had stuck with you this far into your journey, they could have checked for you.)

Step 23. Try not to mope about that as the people you had heard speaking come into your vision.

Step 24. Analyze them.

Step 25. Commit your observations to memory. (Returns on Step 24: Three trainers. One girl, a skinny redhead with a red bag slung over one shoulder and a Togepi held in her hands. Two guys. The first with black hair and sharp looking eyes, but who was otherwise small and insignificant looking. There is a skinny Pikachu currently biting him on the finger. The second boy is much taller than you, with spiky brown hair and a pink frilly apron on.)

Step 26. All of them look pretty good to fight against. None of their partner pokemon seemed especially powerful. (Pikachu, Togepi, or even the powerful pink apron, could ever hope to stand a chance against your wonderful ace Pokemon.)

Step 27. You challenge them.

Step 28. The two taller trainers (the girl and the brunette) glance at each other, a knowing look passed between them. (For some reason, you suddenly feel the need to check your handbook of this region's gym leaders, but you push the urge aside. Your confidence is still much too high.) The redhead girl sighs and laughs as the black haired boy jumps to his feet, yelling excitedly. The other boy looks you up and down for a moment, opens his mouth, and then thinks better of it.

Step 29. Watch as the redhead drags the brunette away by his ear, just in case.

Step 30. Formally challenge the black haired boy and his pikachu, you truly believe in the strength of your UNBEATABLE ace pokemon.

Step 31. Grin self centered. (Secret part of this step instantly revealed: Don't think about the fact that your expression perfectly mirrors the expression of the other trainer.)

Step 32. Release your ace pokemon, sure to brag the entire arch of the Pokeball, and during the explosion of stars from your fully bedazzled Pokeball.

Step 33. Watch the opponent's face to see how impressed he is, and instantly find that he is laughing instead.

Step 34. You gasp as he says, ”Pikachu! Finish it with a thunderbolt!“

Step 35. Your all powerful level 2 Magikarp is instantly knocked to the floor.

Step 36. You cry.

Main Cabin Daily #8
Description: “Time to put a twist on some old friends! Take an idiom, any idiom, and imagine what would happen if that were to come true. Is the grass always greener on the other side? What if the test really was a piece of cake? Write 400 words in this scenario to claim 300 points for your cabin! An additional 100 points can be earned for sharing proof!”

Note: I found my idiom on this puzzling EF list about American Idioms: https://www.ef.edu/english-resources/english-idioms/ (puzzling due to the simple fact that a lot of the idioms in the “not often used” section are things people I know say all the name. “Time is money,” “A stitch in time saves nine,” and “snowball effect,” as some, but not the only, examples.)
Second note: This is a rewritten scene from the first How To Train Your Dragon movie, my favorite movie ever, and I just need to let all you scratchers who may be reading this know that Hiccup and Toothless were pretty much entirely fine after this. Do not panic. Also, PLEASE watch the movie before you read this if you haven’t! This is pretty much the second to last scene in the movie and it’s worth having context!

Content warnings: LOTS OF SPOILERS, also fire, animal injury and death, and implied human injury

Idiom chosen: Go down in flames

Words: 1,086

The rocky island floor spiraled up to meet them, finally made clear by the explosion of the stormy clouds as they rocketed through them. Just a few more seconds. They just needed a few more seconds. “Come on, come on,” Hiccup hissed to himself, more for Toothless than for himself, though he knew the dragon could not understand his specific words, “Just hold on bud, just a little longer,”

His eyes were dry from the speed they were diving, his legs locked at his dragon's sides just as Toothless' dark wings were locked beside them. The sky was cold, but the heat radiating from Toothless' false fin made Hiccup so terrified that he could hardly feel it. They only had a little time left to go in more ways than one, for with a burning fin like that, Toothless and Hiccup only had a few precious minutes left in control of their flight, if even that much.

Hiccup heard the enraged roar of the horrible Red Death behind him, and he heard it go silent as the wind began to pull harder, colder, almost yanking the very flames from Toothless' tail. He chanced a glance back, and felt a horrible feeling of utter terror move from his hair tips to his toes, tingling where he had left them, so strongly tied to Toothless' body that he had somewhat cut off their circulation.

The maw that opened up behind him was almost unspeakably large, and even more so horrifying. Teeth the length of the (only slightly) smaller viking ships that children made for part of their training as warriors, and not a whole lot cleaner. A tongue that was curved and oddly muscular, like the now supposedly extinct species of dragons that Hiccup had learned of from his study sessions, what were they called, Tongue Twisters? And of course, how could he miss it, the bottomless expanse of the creature's throat, now oddly green and backlit as the Red Death prepared to make its name a reality.
Hiccup turned back to crouch down to Toothless' back, hardly hearing himself as he yelled out one single command.

“NOW!”

Instantly, the obedient Night Furry flipped onto his back and fired with all his might. The plasma bolt shooting past the now concerningly red metal pieces of his false tail and embedding itself deep within the body of the horrible beast above them. So large that even it's jaws blocked out the very sky.
Hiccup did not wait to see if his plan had worked, instead letting Toothless' dragon instincts of flight pull them upward, narrowly missing those still flaming teeth, and out of the way of the now falling dragon. Hiccup, however, knew they were not out of the woods quite yet, and it was clear that Toothless knew it too as they became suddenly caught in the down draft that was the pull of the massive Red Death as it dove/free fell towards the beach.

His dragon all but screamed as he continued to lose altitude, now falling alongside the Red Death, locked into a rhythm of twirling between its seemingly endless spins. And though Hiccup was sure that he followed Toothless in his yells and howls, their patetic moral cries were utterly dwarfed by the thunderous roar that was the sounds of the Red Death realizing that it could no longer fly to safety.

It was the sounds of a creature that had been much more intelligent than it had let itself become, but not the sounds of regret, no, the unmistakable scream of rage and the following shriek of agony of a mighty warrior dying in a pool of his own blood. Hiccup and Toothless were nothing compared to the sheer power of such an endless creature, even as it died, and, as they were pulled down with it, they had no ways of mistaking it, no matter how hard they fought to break free.

”Up Toothless!“ Hiccup yelled, ”Keep flying!“

His vision was red with light as flames exploded out of the scales of the dying beast below them (or was it beside them? or even above?). He could hardly tell which way was up or down anymore, in the twisting maze of spines and scales and burned apart ligaments.

Toothless was panting heavily as he endlessly beat his wings, slowly gaining the illusion of control of the situation as they weaved in between the tree-like shapes of what were once the mighty spikes of the Red Death, bent back and melting like a hillside struck with the flames of a Monstrous Nightmare. In the inferno that surrounded them, Hiccup could hardly hear anything but the sounds of both their hearts, and the painful ways they both hoped for a door out of the endless maze of flames they had found themselves in.

But he felt it when the cables connected to Toothless' false fin snapped and fell slack. He felt it when his dragon tensed in further alarm, aware that he had now fully lost the ability to control his turning. He felt it when they both screamed, finally out of the fires, but unable to prevent themselves from reaching the final piece of the mighty Red Death, one last revenge for what they had done to it. The tail mace of the dragon, wide and powerful, was now falling towards them as if it was still attached to something living, and neither Toothless nor Hiccup could do anything to avoid the Red Death's wrath.

Toothless cried out in a panic, beating his wings as if to fall back into the flames, but there was nothing he could do to avoid it, his only chance of escape, in the form of his false fin, had been burned away, trapping both him and his master into a certain fiery doom. Hiccup, however, could not find it in himself to do the same. How could he fight any longer? He had done enough, hadn't he? He had saved the dragons from their island, saved Toothless from the cove, saved the vikings from certain doom. What else was there to do?

So, instead of flailing for some hopeless hope of survival, he simply cried out in horror and held a little tighter to his dragon's shiny black scales, secretly pleading to any God who would listen to at least save Toothless.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out were those scales, shifting as if to wrap tight around him, and then everything fell silent.

Main Cabin Daily #9

Description: “The hero’s journey is a device familiar to many. For this bi-daily, head over to Rockie’s amazing workshop on this incredibly helpful tool- https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1045792857/. From there, write an outline of a story utilizing your new knowledge of the hero’s journey and post part of the outline in the comments. Be sure to keep an eye out tomorrow for part two of this bi-daily! You can earn 150 points for sharing your outline with others in this studio: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35427113/comments Make sure to post here as well to claim your points!”
Note: I planned this as a Pokemon fanfiction but idk if that will work for tomorrow. I’m doing my best. It was this or Hero Wars and Pokemon felt more accessible to others should that be what they choose. It’s about environmental science also.
Words: 560

Ordinary World: Yellow is shown walking in her forest with her team. Post main Pokespe story.. Just wandering.
Call to Adventure: She thinks about Lance’s argument for why he did what he did. She thinks about what Team Rocket did to her forest.

Refusal of the Call: She thinks about staying in her lane, she’s scared of becoming what Lance did.

Meeting the Mentor: She talks with her uncle, who describes the environmental destruction caused by overfishing, and the further destruction caused by invasive species of magikarp.

Crossing the First Threshold: She hitches a ride on Blue’s Charizard to Celadon city, ready to propose someone to help with her problem. Perhaps Erica, a professor as well as a well off gym leader, a princess, and a famous business owner? Perhaps a student in her class? Perhaps even a rocket grunt? I dunno.

Tests, Allies, and Enemies: She goes around a bit with some buddies, discussing issues such as overcatching, invasive species, pollution, the route through rock tunnel ruining the lives there and endangering both humans and pokemon, and irresponsible use of moves in areas they shouldn’t be used in.

Approach to the Inmost Cave: Yellow, Green, Blue, Ash, whoever she picked up to be at her side, etc, go to the League Officials in League Town to ask for change.

Ordeal: Yellow is turned down at first, literally laughed out of the board room, why should they care what is going on, or rather, why should they help? It’s not really their business if the forests are suffering due to poor understanding of the natural world encouraged by them, right? Yellow almost backs down, but feels a rush in her body as the magic of the forest literally supports her, and doubles down.

Seizing the Sword: The League listens, and agrees to discuss several ideas/spread knowledge to some.

The Road Back: The league keeps turning down ideas. Rock tunnel is a very popular route, gaining them lots of donations for help saving people in it, why would they advertise a better route? Viridian Forest is well established, who cares if it needs people checking if it works? Team Rocket is a big donor to the League Business, why get them in trouble? Whatever. Several times, Yellow finds herself understanding Lance in a way that terrifies her.

Resurrection: Yellow finally gets her points across as her powers explode across the room, filling it with the smell of the forest as it begs the league to understand that humans and pokemon, while fighting is in their blood, also need to understand that such fighting cannot happen if natural environments are totally destroyed by bad actors and people who don’t understand.

Return With Elixir: Yellow goes back to the forest and her city cheers for her and her friend’s achievements. Once she is finally alone, she steps outside of her home and finds Lance, who stares at her silently, half in the shadows, nods, smiles in thanks, and flies off with his own explosion of forest magic on his Dragonite. She first does not know what to think, but grins and waves after him. Without his (horrible decisions) inspiration, she could not have done what she had done.

Main Cabin Daily #10
Description: “Welcome to the second part of this bi-daily <3 Yesterday, we posted our outline of a story in this studio: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/35427113. Now go back to those comments and find one that catches your eye! Choose one stage of that outline and write it into a full-fledged scene with at least 400 words. Remember to use the information from your chosen outline when writing the scene, and have fun! This bi-daily is worth 500 points, and an additional 100 points for sharing proof.”
Note: I wanted to pick something ambitious, and then realized I was seriously running out of time and gave up on that idea. I’m using the layout set by @Starthorn since I actually know what she’s talking about.
Words: 1,012

Star’s plan (NOT COUNTED IN MY WORD TOTAL):
“Ordinary World: Smokey the cat, when he goes to drink out of the sink, has to drink out of his owner’s hand because he doesn’t know how to drink out of the straight water stream.
Call to Adventure: People stop trying to help him drink the water because he should know how to by himself.
Refusal of the Call: He refuses to drink at all without help.
Meeting The Mentor: Dirty hands are introduced. Smokey does not like dirty hands. And when they ‘help’ him, he wants to drink out of the water stream. This way, he is trained.
Crossing The First Threshold: He tries to drink the water by licking above the hand.
Tests Allies Enemies: Smokey misses the water. Smokey is DRENCHED. Smokey is betrayed when people pet him with wet hands.
Approach to the Inmost Cave: One day when Smokey tries to jump onto the sink…. It is slippery.
Ordeal: Smokey falls from the sink and gets no water.
The Reward (Seizing The Sword): He finally manages to drink water normally.
The Road Back: People begin to help him again (but not always) because they are worried about him slipping and falling.
Resurrection: The dirty hands turn on the water when he is directly underneath it! Smokey uses all of his strength to drink the water BEFORE it hits him!
Return With Elixir: The owners are happy that he knows how to drink water on his own (what was wrong with him in the first place). He is congratulated and given treats.”

My writing:
Smokey the cat, commonly known by other aliases including but not limited to “Meepy” and “Smeep smop,” stood and stretched his gray back into an arch. On his shoulders was a splash of russet red that he could have sworn wasn’t as prominent the day before, but he didn’t mind the new addition, as it helped to distract from the “seam” that ran from his spine to his belly right below it.

He hops down from the raised desk and lets out the loudest, deepest, most depressing sounding meow he can muster. (His owner, who had just been petting him on the desk, was such a bad friend, abandoning him so quickly like that.) He meowed again, waited for the footsteps to begin to follow him, and ran towards the bathroom, where he knew there was a sink waiting for him.

To make sure he had the owner's attention, Smokey leapt into the air, latching onto the door frame for a millisecond before tumbling to the pink carpeted floor. He meowed again. What was drinking out of a boring old bowl (or even a fancy one with a stream through the air) compared to the nice sweet taste from the rusty pipes by the sink?

He pawed at the counter and leapt up, just barely almost falling as his owner made it's way into the room to catch him. Knowing just what to do, the owner creature turned on the water stream, and Smokey sniffed at it, unsure of what to do.

The owner made a sound like a hum from a strange tree in a wind storm and stuck their large paw under the stream of water, directing it towards Smokey's mouth. Grateful, he licked their hand, just barely reaching where the water stream touched.


The next several days, when Meepy tried the same trick, the owner refused to help, just leaving the sink on for a few seconds for Smokey to attempt to drink from, and then sighing and turning it back off again when he just hopped down from the sink again.

What kind of a cat would he be if he wasn't being waited on constantly? Did he really have to do all of the water directing all by himself?


The next day, the owner's friend appeared. (The kind that only comes over when the owner is out on a trip, or when the smaller owners come upstairs to Smokey's lair to watch that strange rectangular flashing box that they call “Pokemon,” (Or sometimes Minecraft, though that is done much closer to the screen.)

Meepy likes the owner's friend, but when he runs up to it this time, he is disturbed to find that the large paws that pet him are not only cold, but also horribly dirty! Covered in dust and onion juice and who knows what else!

Smokey does not pay much attention to this, instead launching himself at the door frame and up the counter, meowing as pitifuly as he can manage for the owner's friend to please please PLEASE get him some water. (Though he is perfectly aware of the clean, cold, running water provided by his two bowls.) Maybe, if the owner and the smaller owner's won't do it, the owner's friend will?

Smokey meows again, and the owner's friend comes in to turn on the water. It even sticks its paw into the stream, directing it towards Smokey.
For a moment, the old gray cat is delighted by the help, but soon recoils at the taste on his tongue. Dirty paws! This owner has dirty paws! He pauses for a moment, and the owner's friend begins to move to turn off the water stream, but Smokey does not want that! Smokey wants to drink sink water!

Tentatively, he licks at the water above the dirty paws, and is pleased to see that the owner's friend keeps the water on, though it makes some loud barking noises that Smokey has realized show amusement. But then disaster strikes, as Smokey leans forward to get a better drink, and the water falls all across his soft gray head. (He might have felt a bit better if the owner and the owner's friend did not bark even louder when that happened.)

Embarrassed, Smokey jumps to the floor once more.


The “Pokemon” has been going on now for quite some time, and Smokey has decided that he wants to try once more. Silently, without meowing, he pads into the bathroom, looks one way then the other, and leaps..!

His gray paws slip from the counter's edge, and he falls to the floor, landing right by his orange fish shaped bowl. (Full of ridges so he does not eat too fast, a lot of help they do.)

Dejected, he turns and sips from his water bowl. There is no sink water for Meepy if he is nowhere near the sink.


The owner and the owner's friend wander in once more, and, worried they may be worried, Smokey jumps again, this time clambering onto the sink. Maybe this time, when he begs for the water, the owner will hold it's clean hands and allow him to sip, perhaps worried that he will not drink otherwise?

(This is not the case, Smokey simply likes sink water the BEST.)

Meepy steps into the sink at the instant the owner's friend (owner of the dirty paws) turns on the stream of liquid.

Thinking fast, Smokey looks up and, miraculously, is able to swallow all of the water thrown his way! In a great show of strength, Smokey used all of his strength to drink the water BEFORE it hit him! His gray fur remains fluffy, and the owners cheer! He has done it!

They are so happy that he can drink water on his own, dancing a little circle on the white tiles of the bathroom as Smokey continues to drink his fill. (What was wrong with him in the first place? He gets much more water like this!)

When he hops down, he is even given some treats as a reward.

Main Cabin Daily #11
Description: “Get ready to stretch those creative muscles with today’s daily - it’s imaginary-product selling day! Create your own wacky, outlandish product and envision it on the shelves of your local (IKEA) store. Can you see it with your mind’s eye? Now go check out some Djungleskog reviews for inspiration to write an advertisement or review for your bizarre product with at least 200 words for 100 points. You can earn an additional 100 points for sharing proof!”
Note: I LOVE writing real Pokemon stuff (as my unfinished fake youtube video script and my many fake newspaper articles I have also not posted show), so I do not want to miss the chance to do one of those. > Woe, Pokemon be upon thee.
Words: 337

Swords Dance!

We’ve all heard of it, the wonderful dance that will allow your Pokemon to gain both confidence and strength in a single beautiful twirl, but have you ever tried it out for yourself? Most likely not, as most trainers neglect to ponder the wonderful benefits given by such a simple move, and most Pokemon don't tend to dance for fun, especially not enough to learn a battle technique from it!

In fact, many trainers don't even have the move on their radar, knowing only a few specific trainers who even understand how to teach a confidence boost into their Pokemon, and assuming that they won't have what it takes to do the same. But that changes today!

At the Celadon City Department Store, Swords Dance TMs (Technical Machines) are now flying off the shelves into the hands of hoards of joyful trainers. We asked one trainer, a bug catcher from the Viridian Forest, what she thought of the new TMs and she had this to say:

“My Swords Dance technical machine helped teach me how to get my Beedrill motivated! Now we've been wiping out Pidgeys like never before!”
Another trainer, a Sandshrew trainer from the desert area, expressed gratitude towards our scientists for figuring out a safe and easy way to teach Pokemon Swords Dance. His Sandshrew had struggled with the technique its entire life, despite many wild Sandshrew experimenting and discovering the dance naturally.

“Thank you Celadon City Department Store for stocking the shelves with this TM,” he told our reporters tearfully on the opening day of the product, ”My Sandshrew is finally able to use the move that so many of it's wild cousins have taunted us with,“

To join these and many other happy customers, make your way on down to the Celadon City Department Store, just a hop skip and a jump away from the Pokemon Center, and easily accessible by air, and come on in to the second floor and shop to both your and your Pokemon's, heart's content.

Main Cabin Daily #12
Description: “Did someone say spelling bee? Ready your pens, it’s time for everyone's favorite spelling activity, Critiquitaire! Though it may be a bit of a challenge to pronounce, Critiquiitaireirere is a great way to give and receive feedback on writing pieces! You can find it here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1046684428/”
Our correspondence: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1046684428/#comments-413753732
Words: 301

Main writing by @SeptemberSong , is NOT counted for my word total, duh. My critique work is bolded, THAT is counted:

once upon a time in the land of swc
there was a camper who was very hungry
If you want it to be more obvious that these two lines rhyme, you could try capitalizing the “swc” instead of leaving it in lowercase, because I got a little confused for a second as it is here. But otherwise a very strong start! Definitely makes me want to read more.
her name was september and she’d been there 8 times
she made many friends but is still bad with rhymes
I believe that it’s a bit easier to read poems with numbers written fully out, but that could just be an oddly specific demand.

this session, the eighth, was spent with non-fi
and it happened throughout the month of july

the cabins were unique and full of fun
and september got a snack from everyone
It might be a bit easier to read the poem in general with more capitalization, specifically with the proper nouns, but it’s not really that big of a problem. I’m really quite liking this poem so far!

the main cabin held furniture bought
she got meatballs from that ikea, a whole lot
Perhaps you could phrase the first sentence here as, “The Main Cabin held furniture to be bought,” (Don’t feel like you need too, both are good, but I personally think that a few extra words don’t hurt in this case.)

in her home cabin, the parliament fought to lead
she knew there was ice cream there, granteed
LOL, I love this. I have no context but I love it.

mystery market had yummy french fries
alongside many people in disguise

thriller can’t win, but that’s just fine!
they have some ___ that are most divine

solarpunk city had a great theme
their mangoes were so good it seemed like a dream

sci-fi’s outbreak made her pretty weary,
eating any food from them seemed kind of scary
I dunno what’s going on in any of these other cabins either but I’m loving this! It seems that you really put a lot of thought into what to write based on cabin lore. Great job!

dystopian was sinking into the sea
but they still gave ____ to her for free

folklore was really just one big game
but their pixel cake wasn’t at all very lame
I think the second line might read a bit better without the “very” but I could be just struggling to read it.

fantasy chocolate was so very good
she dipped her fries in it, as she should

the poetry palace was very nice
they gave her ___ with no price

bizarre fiction had vector and more
their cookie robots can’t be found in a store

script had a podcast and it was great!
they gave her some ____ to put on her plate

gothic was dark and seemed very neat
everyone knows their ___ are sweet

horrors a simulation, who knows if it’s real
and they gave her ___ to finish her meal
I would probably write this as “Horror is,” since I struggled to read that first part. Also, My Cabin spotted!!! Some insider information, you could do either coins or a “curious cat” for that second sentence, as both curiosity killing a cat and coins are important in our cabin. :)

after a long day of going all around the camp
september was happy to sit down and revamp

her meal of everything from each special space
all of it sitting in its own place

all of the memories would forever be known
and now it was time for her to go home <33
This poem was really cute!! I really REALLY enjoyed it, this was a wonderful read! Keep it up! Hope my insider information could be of help. :)