⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆ ୨୧ ⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆

swc mar '24 : daily #30

“ imagine your character getting the superpower they've always wanted to have…now throw that thought out the window. today, you'll be writing about a character getting their least favorite superpower in 200 words, for 200 points. feel free to share for an additional 100 points! ”

⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆ ୨୧ ⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆

“uhh, so just how does this work again?!” lotti fumed, circling around the crystal flower, slightly raging, “i thought you were the flower of destiny, but come on, there’s no way granting wishes is my destiny whatsoever.” seeing the other fairy behaving like that made yume sigh. yes, it was usual that people get surprised by their sorting, but to react in such a way, insulting the very essence that keeps the balance of the different fairy types and the academy’s magic in general.

“you know,” yume tried to reason, “maybe you’ll learn to like it afterwards. you don’t want to keep everyone waiting on the other side of the portal, don’t you?”

“hmpf,” lotti headed towards the portal following the guardian of the star showers. “life isn’t fair, i guess,” she said in a low voice, “might as well.”

when they arrived in the showers, lotti was immediately greeted by the luminescent streaks of starlight scattered throughout the sky. well, they were technically in the sky. yume rounded up the new group of fairies-in-training. “welcome to the star showers,” she bagan, “this is where you’ll be staying while training your magical abilities to the fullest.” she continued, showing the group around the different locations- the sleeping quarters, the training rooms, and more. just great, lotti thought, i’m stuck here now.

⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆ ୨୧ ⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆

reflection :

⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆ ୨୧ ⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆

word count : 221
reflection word count :
= total word count : 221

current session total (since last save) : ? / 25000

⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆ ୨୧ ⋆ ┈┈┈┈┈ ⋆

balanced_social_viva wrote:

Bro please follow my profile and studio
(In secret language) Csp qmftf gpmmpx nz qspejmf tuvejp

Your secret language is good but there is a problem . What about z ?

when green flag clicked 
ask [What about z?] and wait

Opps.. I forgot
Z → b (ye “a” is vowel)

30/03/24 - What's the worst superpower your OC can have? -342 words

Laura's greatest fear, three years after watching her parents die, was silence. She laid on her back in bed and listened to world whirl around her. Her younger siblings, Jodie the room over was dreaming of grand palaces and a glass ballroom. The sleepy peace washed over Laura as it hummed and muttered incoherently. The apartment below was filled with screaming. It didn't get muffled by the floor the same way actual screaming did. Nightmare or living nightmare, Laura wondered for the nth time. She got out of bed and padded towards the door. Through the crack in the door, Laura could see Jodie turn around and bury her head deeper into her pillow. She stretched her hand towards the knob of the door. The cold metal shocking her drowsy system.

Laura's hair was ruffled by sleep. Her phone pinged, Ximena warning her that she better not be thinking of going out online. “We have a maths exam tomorrow. I won't help you if I find out you weren't sleeping. Or at least awake studying.” Her hand ungrasped the door.

Laura shot a text back, “My neighbours are fighting again. I think.”

She knows Ximena's response. It would be something along the lines of how Laura should not act wtihout knowledge. These were the kind of mistakes that got them caught, the kind of mistakes that killed them. If she strained her mind, she would hear Ximena loud and clear, able to differentiate her between the crowds of people in the city.

But Laura is tired. She wants to sleep so she can score well enough to keep her scholarship. The sleeping city makes it harder than the waking city to snooze. Straining herself and giving herself a bad headache isn't going to help.

Meditation, Laura mumbles to herself as she climbs back into her bed, lying on her back. Breathe in the for four, hold for eight, out for six. If she can clear her mind, she can trick herself into believing everyone else has too. The neighbours continue screaming below.

medians wrote:

Can you elaborate? If you use the switch costume to () block under a when I start as a clone block it will change the costume of the clone.

i guess i mean if the clone is already placed you can change the costume for that clone so that is what i mean.

Daily 3/30 || 369 words

Bagliora looked up at Walnut as he offered her the pretty red and yellow flower, two adorable eyes staring at her. “I figured you would like this,” her wolf friend said with a warm smile. “I know you like plants, so…”
Bagliora took the flower, glancing over at Paulina as she absorbed a golden bell, which turned her into a pink…cat. Walnut used his brown leaf on himself, which made him into some sort of brown…raccoon thing?
Bagliora tried to think of what the flower would turn her into as she pulled it to her chest, closing her eyes. She felt…warm, and she liked that. She opened her eyes, looking at herself. Aside from a full color palette change, she didn’t look as drastically different as her friends did. She tried to channel her energy into…whatever she could do, and in a few seconds, a fireball formed in her paw.
The little fox-glowbug screamed, throwing the fireball, traumatic memories flashing through her mind. As the flames touched the grass, it caught aflame, Bagliora covering her ears as the whispers in her head peaked, feeling a shock of pain through her body.
“MAKE IT GO AWAYYY,” she panicked, flailing around as Walnut and Paulina rushed to put out the fire. Sadly for Bagliora, as she panicked, she basically spewed fire, setting more grass aflame. This led to more screaming mind whispers, which led to more internal pain for Bagliora. She curled up on the ground, trembling as her friends dealt with her mess, sobbing. “Make the screams s-stop…”
She felt Walnut’s soft paw on her shoulder, jumping, another burst of flame hitting her friend. She jolted upward to see her friend in his normal wolf form, unharmed. She trembled a bit, tears running down her face.
She jumped again as she felt a painless scratch on her back, turning and looking over her shoulder at a worried Paulina, her hedgehog friend’s cat claws extended. The warmth was extinguished from her body, Bagliora trembling a bit at the sudden temperature drop. She noticed that her colors were back, and sighed, crying into Paulina’s shoulder gently as the grass and flowers around them wilted slightly.
Apparently not all magic flowers are flower-friendly.

Daily March 30

Imagine your character getting the superpower they've always wanted to have…now throw that thought out the window. Today, you'll be writing about a character getting their least favorite superpower in 200 words, for 200 points. Feel free to share for an additional 100 points!

Phoenix was surrounded. She scolded herself internally, knowing she was the one responsible for her current predicament. Her hands shook slightly as flames danced at her fingertips. “STAY BACK!” she said, masking all her fear behind a brave mask. ‘Come on Phoe,’ she thought to herself, ‘Hold out until backup arrives. Just a little bit longer…’
She had told Corseia to call backup and was pleading mentally, hoping her friends and advisors would make it in time to help save her. She sent fire flying forward, catching a Dark Tribe's member clothes on fire, rendering him, and a partner useless for a bit as they fought to control the fire. She spun around to meet her next attacker, finding herself face to face with the leader of the Dark Tribe, Maria. Phoenix didn't know much about Maria, to the point where she only knew her human style name, but she knew Maria had it out for her. Maria activated her powers, darkness swirling around her like a shadowy hurricane. Phoenix forced herself to dig deeper into her magic, making her fire burn brighter and hotter. The two elements met when each of the welders threw their magic at the other. “NOW!” Maria yelled, and suddenly Phoenix felt as though a vast darkness hit her like a speeding bus, sending her flying to the floor. The darkness was suffocating, overwelming, and Phoenix could only manage a small, strangled cry, as everything around her disappeared into a void.
Suddenly, she heard a bird cry, sensing the darkness being thrown at her disappaing slighlty, as it's owners lost focus of Phoenix. She felt a bird land on her wrist, and felt something in her change. Something big, deep down inside, where her fire found it's spark to ignite. Phoenix struggled to open her eyes, but couldn't, slipping unconsious as she faintly heard the voice of Diamond in the background

~Later~

Phoenix woke, groaning. She was in the Fire Tribe Hospital. She sat up, looking around, her head throbbing. Suddenly, she heard a noise at the door, as Diamond rushed in. “Oh my gosh Phoenix, you're awake! Are you ok? Of course your not ok, you were just attacked by the Dark Tribe,” he said, the words rushing out of his mouth.
Phoenix's head throbbed even harder, as she put her hands to her forehead. “Shut…up…” she said, through gritted teeth.
Diamond nodded, studying her, freezing. “Phoenix…your mark…it's changed!”
Phoenix shook her head, confused. “What do you mean its…changed?” she said, her voice trailing as she looked at her mark.
No longer was her mark the sole flame of a fire mark. Instead the flame was surrounded by a ring of many colors, 8 in total. “Oh…my…gosh…” she whispered.
“What?” Diamond asked.
“It's an elemental mark.” Phoenix replied. “I'm like…the most powerful Magkoa in the world now…” she said, but her voice wasn't filled with joy, or pride. Instead, it was full of fear.
“What's wrong?” Diamond said.
“It means…it means I…IT MEANS I HAVE THE SHADOW MARK DIAMOND. IT MEANS I'M LIKE THEM!” she said, her hazel eyes full of fear.
“Calm down Phoe, calm yourself. You'll be fine, you can control it. Besides, you don't even know if it's a powerful shadow mark or not. You do remember that most hybrid marks don't always produce the most powerful second or third marks. Besides, you've got every other mark too. Surely Shadow won't come out on top,” Diamond reassured her.
Phoenix nodded, but her quick, forced breathing showed she wasn't calm. Suddenly, a doctor rushed in. Phoenix screamed, startled by the sudden entry, and shadow magic darted out of her hands, filling the whole room with shadows. Phoenix began to panic, unable to control the new magic. Dispite all her better judgement, and the cries of Diamond to stop, Phoenix grabbed her emergance teleporter, her trusty MK-362, and pressed a random button on it, causing her to vanish from the people and tribe she loved.
Landing in a field, which was likely stored from the previous, Dark Tribe owners for a training grounds, Phoenix sunk to the ground. “What am I going to do?” she whispered to herself, now scared that it wouldn't be the Dark Tribe to take down the tribes…but it would be her.

+713 words

MrCloudGame wrote:

I didn't. I just showed an example… At least I didn't wanted to brag.
Can we continue talking about the problem now?!

I've found that the only real way to avoid this is to use any 960,000,000 projects or older that you still haven't shared or completed. You can create a copy of the project if you want to save the contents of it. Since the ID is older, it is able to get indexed by the system. I tried it and my project got indexed in around a day.

FlamePixer wrote:

MythosLore wrote:

FlamePixer wrote:

I notice at the top bar in scratch changes.
its small on profiles, settings, my stuff, forums and remixes

its big when on the welcom page, studio and project, mesages, etc

Why?

because the pages with a small header are styled like scratch 2.0 (the previous version of scratch) because the scratch team never got to updating them yet.

ok, but once the top bar is updated, it changes the color and the scratch team forgor to change the design

I think they're a bit dumb

Did you read the post?? The Scratch Team hasn't updated it yet

I've found that the only real way to avoid this is to use any 960,000,000 projects you still have that you haven't shared or completed. You can create a copy of the project if you want to save the contents of it. Since the ID is older, it is able to get indexed by the system. I tried it and my project got indexed in around a day. Hope it helps!

Can you elaborate? If you use the switch costume to () block under a when I start as a clone block it will change the costume of the clone.

Furret_Productions wrote:

DuWeido wrote:

Masterscratch1117 wrote:

Furret_Productions wrote:

I've been hearing a lot of creative server ideas on here lately. I also have a new server idea if I may. Basically, it's like the nations type gameplay, expect instead of normal admins, each nation has one god-like player that is partially in creative mode. Those players can fly, use some commands such as limited building commands and basic others (Restrictions on kill and kick commands, obviously), grant limited powers to players, create a limited amount of a limited set of items, and have higher health standards than regular players.

However, each god-player also has a specific elemental type that his or her nation are most powerful in, kind of like in Greek mythology. And it is by this power (Among others) that the regular players can enforce the god-players by; If the regulars players of a water-god-player, let's say, didn't like how he was using his power, they could use that player's own power against him to limit his actions. Basically, the regular players and god-players have to work together to run a nation.

The purpose of the god-player in the first place, other than the cool gameplay, is to add a new level of intensity and an origins-like aspect to vanilla Minecraft. It also protects nations against admin abuse, as it more deeply connects the people to their leaders, and thus the entire group have to be bad eggs to cause much harm. And even then, other nations can balance them out.

I think it would be really interesting to have a Minecraft server that was basically Greek mythology. What do you guys think?

sounds awesome!

That sounds really cool!

Thank you so much!

OMG, NEW SCRATCHER SERVER COMFIRMED FOR 2025?! (SHOCKING, WATCH UNTIL END!)

By the way, erase all used to be known as clear and wait () seconds used to be shortened to secs, so you would need to do this:
Where category represents the category or extension (for More Blocks it is custom, for custom block arguments it is custom-arg, and there is a grey color)
Ex:

motion block ::motion

Daily 30
word count - 345 words

The chance to know, a feeling of being powerful for those who are suffering daily. It was my dream in life, from the very moment I saw the blue horizon across the ocean. I knew that there were those out there, less fortunate than me, that would practically trade anything for this type of life. I mean, don’t get me wrong.. There are a ton of flaws in my life as well, but I’ve learned to be thankful for all the amazing things I have. A superhero - yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to be. I wanted to freely and confidently answer the calls of my name, letting people know that I’ll be there for them no matter what the case.

That night, I fell asleep with all of these thoughts circulating in my head. It was as if I was getting a call from the universe - it wanted me to get up and ready to fight against the injustices. As I lay in bed, I couldn’t help but think about all of those fantasies. Night based like day, and before I knew it, the sun was shining right through the closed california shutters lined on the walls of my bedroom.

Things felt different all at once. I felt like I could fly, maybe even change the world with my two hands. It felt like the day had finally come, a purpose that I can now see fulfilled. At that moment, I didn’t know just how wrong I was. As I excitedly scrambled out of bed, I felt much lighter than normal. It was as if some drastic change had happened to me while I slept; nothing physically, but more or so something internally. Suddenly, a loud thumping came from around the corner. The weight of the world began to fall on me, as I fell to the ground after hearing such a thunderous noise. Just as I fell, I noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the ground. It read, “Congratulations on getting a new superpower! You can now hear other people’s hearts beating”.

This is not the actual Appel List. View it here.
What is The Appel Log: while The Appel List was for just recording the levels, The Appel Log is for recording the history of The Appel List, as well as a place to debate about levels on The Appel List.

31 March 2024 - The Appel List has been created!

Changed “Rules to join” to “Rules to add your level to this list”

Removed scaling up walls from the rules to add your level from The Appel List

MythosLore wrote:

Masterscratch1117 wrote:

please put posts like this in: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/8/ instead of the questions forum

But it's fine. A moderator will probably move it to the correct forum sometime tomorrow.

Also, it should be in the New Scratchers forum, not Show and Tell.

Did I ask?
And I am not a New Scratcher, I’m a account of @Animator_Scratch_11.

I am currently making a list of the hardest levels in Appel, called “The Appel List”. The closer a level is to the first spot, the harder it is. View a log of The Appel List here. Submit your levels now!
Rules to add your level to this list:
1) Every jump must be possible
2) Must have good gameplay (to a certain extent)
3) No scaling up walls.

Bellefleur
an x-files fanfic
co-written with @violent-measures
645 words
— — —

This is where it started: Bellefleur, Oregon. Between pine trees and two-lane highways. A place where nine minutes had disappeared, marked with an X. A little town where scared kids grew up and the air sometimes smelled of the sea. Where those kids were taken someplace they didn’t know and then abandoned, broken under the evergreens.

This is how it started. Sunflower seeds cracking in the night. Rain falling in dark sheets. The radio acting up, five stations playing all at once. A bright light shining outside their car, and suddenly a moment, nine minutes, gone.

“Time can’t just disappear, it’s a universal invariant!” she shouted, an incredulous smile crossing her rain-streaked face.

But they’d both seen it. Time didn’t work quite right here. This victory he commemorated with a bright orange X spray painted on the asphalt. Those nine minutes were a promise that a lost little girl could be found.

With these impossibilities came the question, delivered with a smile: “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?” It might have been a jibe at his new, skeptical partner, but it meant something more. Do you believe we’re alone in this universe?

He wanted to believe they weren’t. But part of him was still twelve years old, walking into the room where a bright light had whisked his sister away. With that first girl, he also lost the proof he wasn’t alone.

It started with scared girls and secrets in a dark motel room. A terrified voice on the phone told them about the girl who didn’t need her wheelchair any longer. They shared revelations beside ruined graves with rain soaking them through. They hadn’t remembered an umbrella.

His new partner had wide blue eyes and a laugh he thought he could listen to forever. She laughed at the insanity of nine minutes gone, of crippled girls walking. He laughed with her, but they both believed the truth could be hidden in a stopped watch and a patch of dirt from somewhere else. Science could prove the impossible real.

“Where are we going?” she asked in the beginning.

First they’d lost nine minutes, then seven years. Evidence never amounted to much more than an X on the concrete. But the seven years amounted to so much more.

They wandered many more forests in search of time and girls that had gone missing. After Bellefleur, they usually remembered an umbrella.

They never stopped asking each other questions, and he never stopped wondering if they were alone in this universe. So they watched the sky for lights, or at least he did. He got better at remembering to look down, to find in those blue eyes the answers the sky might not bear.

They drove many dark roads and, in motel rooms much like the first, shared secrets and revelations they could not prove. What they might not hold in their hands was contained in their memories.

Sometimes remembering was the hardest part, when there were too many lost girls and not enough found.

Seven years of lost time later, they were back in the car with no need for the radio because they knew each other’s silence. On a two-lane highway to Bellefleur, Oregon, once more, pines rolling by in the window.

This is how it ended. Warm and dry in this bright motel room, he asked her, “Where are we going?”

Not because he didn’t know; he did. What he didn’t know was whether the place they were headed was worth it.

Seven years ago, he might have said it was. He’d have burned the world if the answers could have been found in its ashes. With her in his arms, today, he knew no truth could be more meaningful than this. His hands didn’t seem suited to holding it, anyways.

“I won’t let you go alone,” she said, and it was enough.

— — —
special thanks to @sandy-dunes, @chueythecat, and @amazaeevee for critiquing

skekanatat wrote:

ok so i KNOW that the data.pak isnt allowing any more viruses but i- wait a minute



Meet A.N.T.I !!!!! (i havent decided yet what their name stands for lol)

basically: a biomechanical anti-virus/malware cuttlefish guy made to locate and delete viruses/malicious programs
- crye hates this guy (they know each other kind of not really)
- theyre actually very polite
- will be offended if you call them a virus
- they can become little cuttlefish and shoot glitchy blue goop and swim around in it like… like… like splatoon… spalton…
- i spent way too long making this guy please like it im so artistically exhausted
- anti vs crye epic battle when
- cannon hand can become a buncha things (including party popper, confetti sold separately)
- digital police wee woo wee woo
- built-in maintenance ai named vera

“Objectives have been updated.”
“Former objective (Primary): ‘LOCATE MALICIOUS PROGRAMS/VIRUSES’.”
“New objective (Primary): ‘DELETE LOCATED PROGRAMS/VIRUSES’.”
“Syncing updated objectives to unit A.N.T.I …”
“Sync successful.”

“Good afternoon! My name is A.N.T.I, and I have been ordered to delete you. Please do not struggle!”

i love the design of this fellow
but if the data.pak started accepting members again they definitely wouldnt trust what anti says

FCUBIC wrote:

Hey guys, I have an idea! I already posted it on ROSS, but I’m putting it here too anyway. What if we all make an object show that has each episode made by a different soscer?

showvember: ross edition

Hey guys, I have an idea! I already posted it on ROSS, but I’m putting it here too anyway. What if we all make an object show that has each episode made by a different soscer?

DOOM but you are not a good person and have no morals

Critique for Ceeslay!!

309 words, again done elsewhere lol

i love this intro!!
it's more consistent with “embedded in” this way i feel like
sorry this is a bit nitpicky but this flows better
wait did they just meet? this kinda escalated quickly
i love this line! (although wouldn't it be steam not smoke)
should this be “can't” instead? not sure though
hmm how exactly was running crazy though - i feel like maybe a slightly different word would work better?
i think a more gradual transition from before would be helpful because again this is kinda a sudden development? (although i'm not very sure how relationships work oops)
callback to the intro!! this is so cool
hmm again transition would be helpful! their relationship changed a lot starting from before this point and if you can have a bit of an intro narration that'll clarify stuff a lot i feel like
also a bit confused as to exactly how old they were here - bc it's their 20th anniversary later on but i thought they were like in their 60s or something already
up to you! either way this is such a good part of the story
yay another callback! now that i think about it the consistency between the intro scene and the rest of the story is super cool too
ceeslay hello!! unlike moonlit i did do a bit of nitpicking oopsies - but yes i agree with everything she said! the storytelling was so engaging and the pacing was amazing, it definitely felt wayyy longer than 2000 words and worked out super well! i love the portrayal of indifference in a relationship too, it's something that's really not talked about a lot. i would say though that the transition between certain different scenes could be clearer - maybe as a recap of what has happened between two scenes? overall though this is super amazing and slaysies, good luck!

boxerry wrote:

(#2649)
“On topic no, flash games usually don't have game controller support unless its programmed to.“
Programming would be too hard, I think, but what about an on-screen controller? (That didn’t really help)
If Scratch was SOMEHOW able to like talk to Nintendo, Sony, or Microsoft, maybe controllers could take a leap to scratch?
Idk actually

It's actually not too hard! Someone actually already made it, but not very scratch-compatible. All controllers send the same signals to the computer, so the brand doesn't matter. 99% of controllers that can connect to a PC will work!

PMU_Official wrote:

HexagonWorld wrote:

PMU_Official wrote:

what

Lobotomization was a success

bro you're lucky i only wish mine had been

JackBeNimble65 wrote:

Animator_Scratch_11 wrote:

Pibby59 wrote:

Ramki_Maverik wrote:

I also shared my projects but I cannot see them on home or explore page please help

You won't see them there. And you never will.
Although, you can see them by clicking here.

This is disrespectful.
Don’t you know that people work very hard to get their projects featured.

That was disrespectful and that post deserves to be REPORTED.

say [Hope you have a great day anyways.]

Really Bro It should be reported heh wow

define Bruh
define 

Please look into this comment and edit it.

DIPS-STUDIOS wrote:

TXRGS_Smartmedic1 wrote:

Does Anybody Wish That They Could Have Their Ps4 Controller Or Any Other Controller On Scratch To Play Games Like @griffpatch s Massive Multiplayer Platformer? Even If The Controllers Have To Be Plugged In I Would Be Ok With That. Reply And Let Me Know What You Think?[

If you think about it using a extension of some kind could be possible however scratch would probably make their own controllers because otherwise they would have to go a collaboration with PlayStation Nintendo etc, but yeh your not the only one who wants this

set [ People who want controllers on scratch ] to [99999999999999999999999999]

That Would Be Pretty Cool

HexagonWorld wrote:

PMU_Official wrote:

what

Lobotomization was a success

based off a video game, but the animation is bad and keeps switching between 3d and 2d animation like every 2 shots

Animator_Scratch_11 wrote:

Pibby59 wrote:

Ramki_Maverik wrote:

I also shared my projects but I cannot see them on home or explore page please help

You won't see them there. And you never will.
Although, you can see them by clicking here.

This is disrespectful.
Don’t you know that people work very hard to get their projects featured.

That was disrespectful and that post deserves to be REPORTED.

say [Hope you have a great day anyways.]

Really Bro It should be reported heh wow

define Bruh
define 

No support. Why go through all this trouble to make a complicated and confusing system when you can just…remix?

Act 1:

We open with a dream. A child being abandoned by their parents. Launched into the cold, unfeeling abyss of space. Clark Kent narrates over the dream. He's been having it for the past few days and he wonders. How could anyone do that? Abandon their child like that? Launch them in a rocket to die. Do they not care? He doesn't know why he's having this dream. He doesn't know who this child is. But one thing's for sure. He'll find this child. Whoever it is…

Cut to TITLE CARD: Superman and the City of Tomorrow

POW! Superman gets punched by a purple fist, the fist of Parasite. He picks up the figure and throws him to the ground when suddenly, Bizarro pounces on him. Superman shakes him off as Livewire shoots a bolt of electricity at Parasite, giving him enough energy to get back up. The battle continues. Toyman, Atomic Skull, Silver Banshee, Microwave Man, all arrive just to give Superman a battle he'll never forget. Superman pushes through them, fighting no matter what, as he reaches exactly what he wanted the whole time. Or rather… who he wanted. A child. A small, scared child. He picks up the child, tells them it'll be okay, uses his superspeed to get her out of the way, then comes back. He turns around to see all these villains ready to pick up the fight. He smiles.

Daily Planet. The office is bustling with work. “KENT! KENT! Where is that man…” grumbles Perry White. “LANE! Do you know where Kent is?” Lois Lane. Pulitzer Prize winning investigative reporter, former army brat, terrible typist replies “No. Probably got captured by a supervillain again.” She gets a call from Jimmy Olsen, photographer. “Hello? Again? Alright. Oh, is Clark with you? They always put you in separate places, don't they. I'm on my way.” Perry sees Lois leave her desk. “Lane? Where are you going?” “Getting Jimmy. Bunch of villains are attacking Waid Hall, he got captured again.” Lois gets up, and rushes down the stairs. “Lane! LANE! WHEN YOU HEAR THERE'S DANGER, YOUR FIRST INSTINCT SHOULD NOT BE TO RUN TOWARDS THE DANGER! LAAAAAANNNNNEEEE!”

S_P_A_R_T wrote:

White Dove v7.03 has been released!

White Dove v7.03 is slightly faster than v7.02 as I've sped up the pawn & knight move gen with pre-made tables. I've also improved the evaluation during late endgames!

Overall, this should make WD a bit stronger in most cases, and a lot stronger in others!

v7.04 has just been released!

After a really fast update, WD v7.04 adds a “deep search mode” which is very similar to GoK's “competition mode”! (Think time = 60 sec)

Pento-bento wrote:

56-s wrote:

Also I can join you.

Thank you for being a contributor. You can join the studio and I'll make you a curator if you want

https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/34918257/

I would like to be a curator please and maybe a manger?

writing comp entry for critique

Hi May! Thank you so much for doing this <33 This is more of an excerpt of a story, but can stand alone. It's from a Hi-Fi story I wrote a while back about the RMS Titanic. I couldn't decide between the happy or sad ending, so I put both here so you can tell me which one flows better ig? I gtg, but thanks again! <3

Atlantic Down (how's the title by the way?)
Someone was shaking me, and a distant voice was clamouring for my attention, but I couldn’t bring myself to heed to what was disturbing my sleep.
“Freddy? Freddy, you must get up!”
I could no longer ignore it, for the voice was becoming louder, and the shaking more persistent, forcing me to wake up. I propped myself up on one elbow, rubbing my eyes and blinking to clear my vision.
“Mother..? What time is it? Is it morning already?”
“No, it’s only just gone midnight—around thirty minutes ago,” Mother replied hastily, turning to the door and taking my coat down from one of the hooks. “But…”
She shook her head and closed her mouth, seeming to think better of whatever she was going to say.
I was fully awake now, and an unsettling feeling of worry was rising in me. “Mother, what’s wrong? Where’s Father?”
“He- the ship hit something a short while ago. Your father left to see what’s going on…”
I sat up properly, starting to panic. “What do you mean?? Are we—is the ship sinking?”
“No, no darling! It can’t be, dear…they all said the RMS Titanic is unsinkable,” Mother answered, but her voice rose in pitch as she fumbled at the buttons of my coat. Her hands were shaking, and I only felt more afraid.
“There might be some damage done, though…I don’t know. Here, Freddy, put your coat on—and your boots too. We need to find your father and see if he’s found anything out yet. Come on!”
Soon, Mother was leading me hurriedly out of our little bedroom and down the whitewashed hallways of the ship. I was still rather tired, but I did my best to keep up with Mother’s hasty pace as she led me round one turn, then another. Soon we reached a crowd of people who were standing at one of the gates that blocked us from accessing the higher decks.
I couldn’t see much of what was going on, due to everyone towering above me, but from listening intently and noting the passengers’ brisk scurrying, I could tell things weren’t going as well as I hoped.
Mother glanced around the room, her eyes searching earnestly. “Freddy, come, get up on my shoulders…do be careful—there we go. Can you see your father?”
From the height of Mother’s shoulders I scanned the crowd, searching each face. “I don’t see him…oh, there! I see him. Father!!”
I waved wildly and yelled out to get Father’s attention. He turned to acknowledge the commotion I was causing, and his eyes lit up. Mother spotted him as well and waved, helping me down from her shoulders as Father made his way towards us.
“Elizabeth! Hey, Freddy,” Father gave me a quick hug before turning to Mother, taking her hand. “What are you doing out here? Is everything all right?”
Mother shook her head, her anxious expression returning. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it…something doesn’t feel right, Leonard. Did you find anything out about what’s going on?”
“I’ve been asking round and listening, but all I know is that the ship did hit something…what it was, I don’t know. She might have suffered some damage, but some believe that it’s only minor, and are returning to their rooms—most are saying and doing otherwise. And now, it seems that…”
Father paused as a man began calling to catch everyone’s attention. “Pass up the women and children! All women and children must come up and get on the lifeboats immediately! Men, stay where you are!”
I rounded on Father. “What? Does that mean..?”
“They’re evacuating passengers off the ship—I think…” Father hesitated, locking eyes with Mother. “I think you both should get on a lifeboat, quickly.”
Mother shook her head slowly, and my heart quickened.
“Father, what about you?? You can’t just be left down here, what kind of rule is that? Father, you can’t!”
Father shook his head, crouching down to my height. “Freddy, we’ll still get on a lifeboat, don’t worry! It’s just women and children first, and then they’ll let us up when there aren’t women or children around. So I need you to go with your mother and get on a boat, all right?”
“Is the ship sinking?” I whispered, a lump forming in my throat. “What if it sinks before you get off?”
“I don’t think the ship is sinking; I believe it’s just a precaution,” Father squeezed my hand. “I’ll be fine.”
He rose to his normal height and turned to Mother. “Please, get off this ship with Freddy, Elizabeth. I’ll be off soon as well, don’t worry about me.”
Mother bit her lip, then shook her head again. “Leonard, they might let you go—I can’t leave you here. Please come and try!”
Mother grabbed hold of my hand and Father’s, beginning to lead us towards the gates.
“I’m not sure, Elizabeth…” Father answered sceptically, but Mother didn’t seem to be listening.
We reached a man at the gate who was directing women and children out, and he advanced towards us as soon as he noticed our approach.
“Another woman and child? Thank you. Come, ma’am, let’s go—you too, my lad.”
I stumbled back from his outstretched hand, gripping Father’s arm. “But what about Father?? Surely he can come with us?”
“I’m sorry, lad, but I’m just following orders. Come along, now, we don’t have much time.”
Mother stared at Father, her eyes silently pleading, and I held his arm tighter.
“I’m not leaving! Not without you, Father, please!”
Another group of women and children caught the man’s attention, and he became occupied with them while he waited for us. Father knelt down in front of me.
“Frederick…it’s okay. I can’t come yet, because there’s still others like you that need to get off, but I’ll be on a boat as well before you know it,” Father whispered with a soft smile, bringing something out of his coat pocket. “Go with your mother now—we’ll be together soon, my son. Here, take this—hold on to it for me until we reunite; look after it, Freddy.”
I stared, tears welling up in my eyes, as Father opened my hand a placed a shining, copper-coloured object into my palm, before closing my fingers over it. He stood up again and turned to Mother.
“Leonard, I…”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me…get Freddy off here, I’ll be all right.”
Mother shook her head, but Father embraced her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. I could hear her whispering something, but couldn’t catch the words.
The man at the gate returned to us. “Are you ready? Spaces are running out.”
Father nodded, reaching for me to give me a hug. “Go.”
Mother looked torn, but she promptly gripped my hand and wiped her tears away hastily, nodding to the man. “…Yes. Please, lead the way.”
The man ushered us towards the gate, but I turned back, hesitating.
“Father,” I cried, tears running off my cheeks. He caught my words and smiled after me.
“Don’t fret, Frederick—stay with each other, okay? We’ll be together soon!”
“Promise me,” I pleaded, my voice cracking.
He nodded. “I promise I’ll be all right.”
“Come on, lad,” the man took my hand and led me to follow him and Mother.
I glanced back once more as we were led away, seeing Father waving us off with a smile. I tightened my grip on the pocket clock in my hand as I lost sight of him in the crowds.

(should it end happily for them, or should it end sad? I actually can’t decide hhh- I’ll do both, and can you tell me which one you prefer?)

(Sad ending)
Crowds of thousands were gathered on the soaking wet docks, taking me aback as we moved through the masses to find a place of refuge. There was so many of them, searching for and reuniting with the passengers who were disembarking from the ship we had just left, and none of them seemed fazed by the heavy rain that was pouring down from the overcast skies above.
We found a small area on the dock with less people, and I found a long white railing that was perfect for me to sit up high and get a view of everything. Mother watched as I climbed up, shielding her eyes from the torrential rain as she handed me her umbrella.
“Will you be okay here, Freddy? I need to go and talk to an official for a moment.”
I nodded, raising the umbrella over my head to block out the downpour.
Satisfied, Mother ventured back into the crowds, and I watched her from my perch, waving whenever she turned back to check on me.
As I was sitting silently, I felt a continuous vibrating sensation against my leg. I reached into my pocket, and my hand grazed the cold, hard surface of Father’s pocket clock.
Intense emotions rushed back to me, and my eyes stung as I brought it out and flipped open the cover. I watched as the spidery hands flicked across the small Roman numerals, and a tear splashed down my cheek. I dashed it away and continued to stare at the clock, wishing I could turn its hands back, and time along with it.
Wishing Father had stayed with us. Wishing that we had never set foot on that blasted ship.
I clicked the lid shut and squeezed my fingers over it. Once I confirmed where Mother was, I rested my chin on my fisted hand and closed my eyes, listening to the rain battering my umbrella.

(Happy ending)
I awoke to the sounds of rain battering the windows of the Carpathia, accompanied by distant thunder. I yawned, propping myself up and turning to see Mother still sleeping soundly. Pulling the pocket clock out, I checked the time, wondering how long it had been since I slept. It read 7am.
I quietly slid off the bed and creeped over to the window to see where we were, but fog completely obscured any distant views. Thoughts of Father suddenly rushed back to me, and I glanced over at Mother. She was still asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb her, so I silently left our little room to search myself. I had been lying awake for hours wondering if he was even on this ship, and couldn’t wait much longer to find out.
I went down hallway after hallway, trying to find my way to the top decks, but I soon began to feel quite lost. I noticed a man walking past the next passage, and I raced after him.
“Excuse me, sir!”
The man turned, and I skidded to a stop. “What?”
I ignored the man’s snappy tone, actually feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. “Do you know the way to the top deck?”
The man sighed, rubbing his eyes before turning to the corridor before us and pointing ahead. “Down there…turn left and you’ll see the way up.”
I smiled my appreciation, running on. “Thank you, sir!”
“It’s pouring out there, mind you!” He called after me, but I didn’t pay much attention.
I leapt up a few steps and found myself back on the deck we had been on that long night. I squinted as rain battered my face, trying to see where I was going as I stepped further out. The man wasn’t kidding—it was raining quite a bit.
I quickly realised I had forgotten my coat and grimaced, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from the cold and deciding to be quick about this. I was surprised to see a few people outside despite the downpour, all doing their own things.
The rain and fog obscured my vision as I stumbled across the deck, suddenly thinking better of coming up in the first place. I spotted someone who looked like they could help me find Father and made my way towards them, trying to keep my balance. I shielded my eyes from the showers to keep sight of the person, but bumped into someone else that I hadn’t noticed standing nearby.
“Sorry!” I said before they could scold me, trying to hurry past, but they grabbed my arm.
“Hey, are you all right…?”
My heart skipped a beat and I stumbled back, clenching the pocket clock so tight it hurt my hand.
“Father!!”
My cry caused some people’s heads to turn as I rushed into his arms, and he lifted me right off the deck floor, laughing as I cried tears of joy. “Oh, Father!”
“Freddy,” he whispered.
The rain was quickly soaking me, but I didn’t care. I clung to Father as if I could never let go, crying on his shoulder as he hugged me close.
He put me back down on the floor and knelt in front of me as I held on to his neck, smiling that smile I loved so dearly.
“What are you doing out in this rain?” He laughed as we both wiped our tears.
“I came to find you!” I cried, before digging a hand into my pocket. “Here—I kept it for you…”
He smiled as I opened my hand to give him the pocket clock, before reaching and closing my fingers over it. “You keep it, Freddy…I want you to have it.”
A smile spread across my face, and I threw my arms around his neck again, unexplainable gratitude filling me as I heard his laugh once more.

1,585 words with sad ending, 1,924 words with happy ending

https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/992267737 Bullet Breakdown, this is a flappy bird type game that will have levels, bosses, and goals. It is in alpha at the moment, so polishing will come eventually but for now, I would like feedback either here, on game comments, or profile comments, suggestions and ideas are greatly appreciated, I want this game to be different but still good for people to like.

I made an AU where Bill is reincarnated as a cat.

gtar1 wrote:

mstone326 wrote:

Have you started the game? Is it a top down game? A side to side game? Need some more info in order to help.

Sorry, it's a top down game that i've been experimenting with, but it won't work.

Check mines: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/981168358/
Instead of the car moving, the map is moving, only the direction is moved by the car. If you want the car to go forward, you needed to let the map go backwards, etc…
Like this:

forever
move ((0) - (Speed)) steps
end

56-s wrote:

Also I can join you.

Thank you for being a contributor. You can join the studio and I'll make you a curator if you want

https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/34918257/

Weekly #4
1,781 words

Part 1
▪────

Exposition: A bridge was made by the people many centuries before, a bridge of limestone that arched over the river. However, by causes unknown (to the reader), the bridge collapsed and wasn't remade for many years. Our protagonist, Adair, is fascinated with finding out how the bridge collapsed, and how many people fell into the river with it.

Rising Action: Adair asks his mother about his father, stating that “he fell in, didn't he?” His mother does not give him a clear, straightforward answer, and seems distressed by the topic. She refers to his father's home, and how this world was not it. Adair tries to communicate with his mother, but nothing works.

Climax: Adair is helping to build the bridge again and brings this news home to his mother. She isn't pleased and tells him not to cross when it is completed. Adair gets angry and insists that she is only acting this way because of his father's death, which he claims she was not there to witness. She says that the bridge is cursed. The argument is not resolved, and instead ends in silence.

Falling Action: Adair continues building the bridge, and when the day comes to cross it, he is one of the first. He thinks of his mother as he walks and is lulled into a false sense of contentment and bliss. He doesn't hear the overhead wire snapping and falling, and the bridge starting to burn. The bridge collapses again, and he falls with it.

Resolution: He wakes to see his mother looking over him, her demeanour distressed. He apologises to her and says he is not going anywhere, his home is with her. She laughs with relief and says that they will go home.

The rhyme ends by telling the woman she can go home now.

- 319 words





Story (parts 2, 3 & 4)
▪────


oh, your bridge is falling down,
falling down,
falling down.



As children, they asked about the bridge.

Its limestone pathway arching over the river, a trail for generations of the past. They asked about its lore, whether drinking the water below would steal a man's soul, or if you crossed it at night, would the shadows swallow you whole?

The adults laughed at these questions, but sorrow lingered in their eyes just a little too long.

Their gaze would drift off to the setting sun, dying red and yellows streaking the horizon where a bridge once stood. Where its arches once bowed and light filtered through, so that the sun was reduced to a golden spark in the distance.

Now the light blinded them, setting the world aflame.

Adair didn't care so much about the bridge's lore; he was fascinated with something else.

How did the bridge collapse, and how many fell with it?



“Papa fell in, didn't he?”

Adair watched his mother turn to stone before his eyes — her posture rigid, her eyes alert.

She bent over the sink again, scrubbing the pan in her hand. She did not look at him. “He fell where?”

Adair gently took the pan from between her clutched fingers, and continued washing it. “Papa fell in the river. When the bridge collapsed.”

The boy phrased it as a declaration — not a question needing confirmation, but a statement. A statement that took the form of a blunt knife, twisting in his mother's abdomen.

She swallowed. Her knuckles whitened against the oak brown of the countertop, fingers gripping wood.

Pain flashed in her eyes, stifled agony spelt out across her face, before the expression hardened again. The woman was stone once more.

Her cold gaze fixed on the steady stream of water falling from the tap. She made no move to close it.

“Your Papa's time came to go. He… He's home now.”

A match lit in Adair's chest.

“But this is his home,” he said, resentment lacing his words. "We are his home."

She shook her head.

Silence gripped the air. Moments stretched for an eternity between them.

Silence, but for the thump of their heartbeats and the running of water. Silence, but for all the words they wished they could say.

Adair's mother broke it first.

“This was a home that failed your Papa, that didn't keep him safe.”

Her voice shook, the shudder of someone at the edge, looking down.

At the edge of this stilted normality, this pretence of everything is fine, don't worry, of Papa passed away, it's not important how. This act that had spanned his whole life, since the day his father died.

A sob broke through when she murmured, “A home that let him fall.”

Adair left his mother with her demons, the tap still running.



Dying sunlight bathed the river in shades of fire, setting its waves aflame.

Adair squinted against the glare, rubbing muddied hands against his trousers and wiping sweat from his brow. His muscles strained from a hard day's work, grit in his nails and a satisfied glint in his eye.

By the time he returned home, the river had swallowed up the sun.

“Mama!”

Footsteps sounded against the stairs as his mother descended, and Adair greeted her with a beaming grin.

She returned the expression with a surprised smile, fixing the sleeves of her gown. “What is it?”

“We're rebuilding the bridge,” Adair announced, eyes bright. “We've finished half already, and it's been decided that I will be one of the first to cross when it's completed.”

The woman studied his face — the light in his gaze, the sweat still layering his brow. Her silence spoke multitudes, and Adair's heart dropped to his stomach.

She looked at him, saying nothing as the seconds ticked by.

Again, moments stretched for an eternity. Again, silence gripped the air.

This time Adair broke it. “Ma…”

“I love you, my dear,” his mother whispered, pain glazing her eyes. “But I cannot let you do that.”

Again, the match lit in his chest. Rage coiled Adair's heart like a barbed wire — his glare accusatory, his words even more so.

"First, you refuse to tell me the truth about what happened to my father — that he died when the bridge collapsed. Then, when we can finally rebuild it and I am able to cross it just like you and Papa once did, you forbid me?"

A spark of anger flared in his mother's gaze as she rose up to his height, her eyes flashing, warning him to mind his mouth.

He didn't.

“Just because you're afraid that what happened to Papa will—”

“Don't you dare!”

The world stilled.

His mother had never truly raised her voice at him, and now he understood why.

She was a woman of stone no longer, suppressed emotions streaking her face, burning beyond her irises.

A warrior stood in her place, grief scarring her expression, remnants of the pain that had deadened her heart.

“That bridge is cursed. You were not there when your father died.”

“Neither were you!” Adair spat.

This time, he didn't expect the silence.

A second passed. Two.

It held him in a chokehold. He couldn't breathe. Fear throbbed in his chest.

Like a brick wall had risen between them, his mother closed off.

The fire in her eyes died. The emotions fell from her face as if they had never been there to begin with, a mask peeling back to reveal the statue beneath.

She tugged her sleeves once more, and left her son choking on the silence.



Two weeks later, the bridge was completed.

Two weeks later, Adair and his mother still hadn't spoken.

He thought of her then, imagined the pride in her smile as he stepped onto the bridge, its limestone pathway arching over the river.

As the light filtered through and the world no longer burned, he thought of his mother.

Her words lingered in his mind, “The bridge is cursed.” A warning—

“Adair! Are you ready?” called one of his friends.

Adair beamed, lips pulling into a grin that even the sun could not rival. “Of course!”

Anticipation surged behind his ribcage, pulsed through his veins. His heart pounded to the beat of his footsteps.

This is it.

With every step across that bridge, the lure of the unknown pulled him along.

Despite the sting of his mother's anger, and the simmering remnants of his own indignation, his burdens lifted as he walked. Contentment swelled in his chest, and he fell into a trance of pure bliss.

So deep, in fact, that Adair didn't hear the searing of an overhead wire, or the contact when it hit the ground.

He didn't smell the singe of smoke as a rope caught fire.

He didn't feel the crumble of limestone beneath his feet.

He didn't hear the screams of “The bridge is burning!”

He thought of his mother's smile just as the world went up in flames, and he fell into darkness.




oh, your bridge is burning down,
burning down,
burning down.



“Adair—!”

He heard the voice as if from very far away. A voice that comforted him, pulled him into an embrace.

A voice that told him everything is fine, you'll be alright.

A voice that made him open his eyes and look up into his mother's face.

Her ash-singed hair and smoke-stained skin. The mask of stone peeled back, raw emotion scrawled across her flushed cheeks. Tears warring with the fire in her eyes.

“Mama…” he sighed.

A sob lodged in the back of her throat. “Adair, my dear.”

He looked at her eyes, making sure she saw the sincerity in his. “I'm sorry, Mama, for everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I am your mother—I will love you, always,” she said, a tear rolling down her soot-stained cheek.

“Don't worry about me, Mama.” Smoke burned his eyes as he reached for his mother's hand, murmuring, “My home is with you.”

Her relief came out in a stifled gasp, tears swimming in her eyes as she laughed and said,

“Then we'll go home.”

Adair closed his eyes to the sight of his mother's smile, and the thought of home.


you can go home now,
my fair lady.

1,462 words
thanks so much to tilly for her critique <3

MineTurte wrote:

Turtl_abyssness wrote:

MineTurte wrote:

Turtl_abyssness wrote:

Hello y'all's! I'm going to get straight to the point. My SB3 file is apparently “too big” for scratch, even though it's less than 50 MB (it's 41.19 Megabytes large). It might be a problem with my Chromebook which would make sense, but honestly I don't know why it doesn't work.

If anyone knows anything of why I might also not be able to put the file into scratch then please tell me

Hmm. This would probably fit better in advanced topics but my guess is that when ported into scratch and it actually decompiles it is much bigger than 41.19 MB. When you export a project I'm pretty sure it compiles the project into a smaller file so it doesn't clog up computer space and when you load it back in it is too big. I also have a chromebook so that's why I somewhat know this problem.

Hope this helps!

Thanks, this slightly helps, do you know a way I can check the full file size however?

Not sure lol. Idk how sb3 compiling works. Sorry.

It's alg, thanks for the help

daily for march 30th
words: 416

Sarah was just a normal girl, living a normal life. But one day, something happened. She was hit by a strange energy, and suddenly, she found herself with superpowers. She was ecstatic, excited to see what they were. She held her hands out in front of her, ready to see what she could do. But instead of seeing a beam of energy, or the ability to fly, she got…
The ability to summon any type of bug. She was disappointed, to say the least. She always hated bugs, and now, she had the ability to control them. She had no idea how she would ever use this power to stop a villain, or save the world. She knew she would have to train hard, and maybe one day, she would learn to truly appreciate her power. So she sat down, and started to train. She summoned every bug she could imagine, learning all of the different types of insects. It was hard work, but she learned to appreciate every single bug, even the creepy, crawly ones. She knew that she wasn't the strongest hero, but she would do her best, with the power she had
As she explored her newfound abilities, she found that she could communicate with bugs, and use them to gather information. She could also control their movements, using them to spy on enemies or distract them during battles. And she discovered that she could even use her powers to heal, summoning insects to mend wounds or treat illnesses. Despite the unexpected nature of her powers, Sarah knew that they could be a valuable asset in her quest to become a superhero.
She kept training, day in and day out, eager to master her powers and become the best hero she could be. She studied every type of insect, learning their different behaviors and abilities, and how to use them to her advantage. She also trained her body, becoming stronger and faster, so that she could keep up with the world's other heroes.
Despite her unique power, Sarah never let it hold her back. She became a valuable asset to the other heroes, using her abilities to gather intelligence and heal the wounded. And when a powerful new villain emerged, threatening to destroy the city, Sarah was there to defend it, her swarm of insects working together to stop the threat.
In the end, Sarah learned that her powers were not a limitation, but a unique strength, and that she could make a (I'm stopping cause I have no time)

Daily! ʚїɞ 517 words

I skip along the sidewalk. It's my tenth birthday.
Usually I don't like birthdays. Too many people! And ugh- the cake. But ten is special.
Today I get my power.
See, we're not like you. You earthlings- I mean humans- don't have powers. I mean, not the ones we get. Not stuff like Telepathy and Mind Reading and Flying and Shape Shifting and Size Changing and Appearing and Guardian and… well, a lot more. On every cyborg's tenth birthday (or manufacturing day) you get your power.
The one I want is Invisibility. Being able to hide from the rest of the world is something I have always longed to do. Let's just say that people aren't usually shy here.
Like me.
My order sister, Jane, rolled her eyes and me skipping. She thought everything I did was immature. Well, one of her eyes rolled. The other one was a camera. 17-year-old Jane's power was Sensing. She worked as a Junior at a factory plant. Though she had that camera eye since she was born, my parents said.
Jane was split evenly down the center, one half of her body robot and the other human. Mama was assorted, one ear a radar dish and one leg mechanical and stuff like that. I don't know how Dad was.
He died a long time ago.
I look more like a human than anyone else. I don't have a singe metal part in my body. Mama always says it's because I'm special. “It's all inside you,” she would say. Jane said it was because I was weird.
I didn't care though. Not today.
We reached the place we were looking for. A huge, domed metal building with a sign on it reading ‘Power/Job Choosing.’
A scribbly nervous feeling consumed me. I'd forgotten that what power you got effected your job too. You didn't get to choose.
We walked inside. A lady with spiky, metal tube-y hair and a bored voice greeted us. “Check in.” She handed Mama a steel clipboard and a pen. “Name of kid, date of birth, time, parent or guardian signature…”
While Mama filled out the form, I looked around. It was a pretty cold place, and I don't mean the temperature. Even though I've looked forward to this my whole life, I wished it will be over soon.
We walked inside. “Step right up there.” The lady pointed to a raised round thing sticking out from the ground. I obeyed, and she tapped keys on her computer. “Okay. No need to be nervous.” She said in the same bored voice. “It's just going to scan you, and you get a power based off of your personality.” She sounded as if she said it a thousand times before. Which she probably had.
Blue light flashed around. Jane clicked on her phone. A weird, tingling sensation spread through me as an invisible scanner went through.
Invisibility I thought as hard as I could. Please, invisibility…
“HUMAN.” The computer announced. Mama gasped, and Jane's head shot up.
What? Human? No, I couldn't be…

Daily #30

It just didn’t seem right. After all those years of hard work and preparation at the Academy, why would her hidden power be- “Mind reading!?!?” Zeta shrieked again, “Out of all the things you could have given me, no, I could have been given- Ugh, I don’t even know anymore, but,” she slammed her head against the wall. “WHY?!?”

She lifted her head. Millions of thoughts swirled around her head- not just hers, but others’ as well. Most people would think mind reading would be a cool power to have, being able to see what others are thinking at that instant- but in their world, or maybe even ours, it’s a little more complicated than that. Those million thoughts, possibly even more than that, were of people all around her. Just being around someone allowed you to know exactly what they were thinking, which, in usual standards, is a lot of thoughts occurring at the same time, giving Zeta the headache she now has.

“You might have rightfully earned your powers, but further extensive training is needed to master them and unlock your full potential,” the Headmistress’ words played on repeat in her head, “As of now, all of your powers are only raw, needing to be tamed and taken control of.” School wasn’t over yet, Zeta sighed, and it most likely never would be, taken in consideration how she could barely think for herself at a certain moment in time.

“This is what I’m destined for,” she said to herself out loud, “It’s horrible- Oh, what am I saying, this is like the end of the world!” Moving away from the wall, she resumed her walk to her new dorm. “I wish this could be over. I should never have been born a Sparkling anyways.” For her, this new power seems to be more of a burden rather than an advantage…

312 words

White Dove v7.03 has been released!

White Dove v7.03 is slightly faster than v7.02 as I've sped up the pawn & knight move gen with pre-made tables. I've also improved the evaluation during late endgames!

Overall, this should make WD a bit stronger in most cases, and a lot stronger in others!

Elijah999999 wrote:

among_us1w2 wrote:

support, i want to say * without using this goofy bypass

Someone has yet to explain to me what is to be gained from swearing.

Nothing is gained. It's just that people have varying definitions of whether certain swears are considered appropriate or not, so Scratch created a middle-ground, allowing some swears that a majority of people may use in regular, appropriate speech.

Also, Scratch allows aforementioned words on the main site for unoffensive uses, so why not make it consistent?

My dad said he's getting concerned for my mental health because I said “I can finally draw something other than cats. I can draw Bill Cipher.” He said he's concerned that I'm “drawing demons.” My dad is also somewhat homophobic and thinks a certain show that recently got banned is “Devil Worshipping.”

Shadow_The_Hedgehogs wrote:

fire_alchemist wrote:

Shadow_The_Hedgehogs wrote:

Does anyone know where on the internet I can watch Sonic Prime season 3 without watching on Netflix and without signing up for anything? Ik season 1-2 and ep 1-2 of s3 are on youtube, but where else can they be found? (i also know u can watch it on Dailymotion, but it's blocked for me)

bro, let me tell you, what you are looking for is piracy, which is ilegal, and not the good kind of piracy thats in a gray legal area, i mean actual bad 100% piracy, no gray area, no literal stealing… so just so you know, good luck mate

-_- im never gonna end up watching season 3

indeed, sorry mate

Usernameopupduckling
Position: working on SFX
Why do you want to join us? I want to work on another group project
How active will you be? Almost every day of the week
How skilled are you at the position you chose? Relatively skilled
Proof of work (if possible): I can send you a couple of my beats i've done and i can send you something sefic if you need that give me the prompt
Notes (optional): I could also do game design, not like coding but coming up with lore figuring out how mecchicans and stuff can fit in the game I can send you one of my world documents if you want proof on that front but either one I would be happy to do

I was a worker on Project lemon soap (look it up on scratch) If you want to look at that for my team work skills
Thank you for considering my position

crabclaw118 wrote:

Horsekatto wrote:

Just wondering, why do some people simp for Bill Cipher? I platonically simp for him but why do other people simp for him? (non-platonically.) Not judging but he's a triangle with an eye, hat and bow tie.

Some people are just down bad for a dorito, and you gotta accept that, it's the Internet!

Yeah. I get why people simp for him. I'm not judging. At least they aren't twinkifying him. As a random youtube comment said “Triangle hot, human not.”

PMU_Official wrote:

I know I haven't been very active but its spring break now, and the musical I was in ended last week, so I have much more time to work on things! I'll try to get Marvel Knights #4 out this week, and expect comics to come out more often now, I know there's been a long break, but I'm back now.
also happy late Good Friday, and Happy Early Easter!

Hype.
Happy Late Good Friday to you as well.