This is just a project I made a few moths or at least one year back and I think that you would like it!
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/603772049/
I don't expect to get much traction on this so, enjoy?

Support, even though you can already just type /remixtree at the end, a lot of people don't know you can do that & it would be more convenient to have a button

Critique for @violent-measures and @criminal-intent, 374 words

Hey everyone! Today I'm critiquing a piece by Crim and Vi, so let's get started!
As always, all words in quotes are theirs, and all words outside quotes are mine.

This is where it started: Bellefleur, Oregon. Between pine trees and two-lane highways. A spot 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.

I absolutely love the way this starts off! The sentence fragments give the words a dramatic impact that gives the story a vivid, intense flavor, and the scene is set really nicely.

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 at him over the rain, an incredulous smile crossing her rain-streaked face.

But they’d both seen it. Time didn’t work quite right here. He grinned crookedly in return. Nine minutes were a promise that the lost little girl could be found. This victory he commemorated in a bright orange X.

It started with scared girls and secrets in a dark motel room, with revelations shared next to ruined graves and 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.

A quick thing here, I'm not part of the fandom so I don't know if the mention of the crippled girl is something that I would know about if I was, but coming from my perspective it feels a bit abrupt because there's no mention of it earlier and I don't have a reference for it. It's up to you whether you want to clarify or not; it really depends on whether you're aiming more towards others in the fandom or a more general audience.
Moving on!

“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.

Moments passed as quickly as the trees outside the window, a whole lifetime held inside yet gone in the blink of an eye. They wandered many more forests in search of time and girls that had gone missing. After Bellefleur, they usually remembered an umbrella.

Nice reference back to the umbrella here, the only edit I'd suggest is adding the word “them” after “inside” and before “yet”, just to make it clear what's holding the lifetime. I had to go back and reread the sentence before the meaning clicked, and adding the word “them” would help the reader follow along with your train of thought by making it clear what the subject is (the moments).

They never stopped asking each other questions, and he never stopped wondering if they were alone in this universe. It was never easy to believe, but it was easy to look up.

They watched the sky for lights, or at least he did. He got better at remembering to look down.

Another note here, watching the sky for lights and then looking down appear to contradict each other, maybe add some more clarification as to what the connection between the two sentences is.

They drove down 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, because he did. What he didn’t know was whether the place they were headed was worth it.

Something about this sentence is bothering me but I can't quite put my finger on how to change it and not make it a confusing mess; if you can find a way to eliminate one of the “becauses” that might help, but if you don't think you can do that without damaging the meaning too much I'd just leave it the way it is. It's not that much of a problem.

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. Holding 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 answer enough.

This was a really spectacular piece, y'all should feel proud of yourselves! The only thing I found any issues with was the clarification in some spots, but other than that, this looks amazing! As always, your writing is gorgeous, and I'm so glad I got to read and critique this piece <3

SILENT SILENT SILENT HALLOWEEN (TOP 7 EXTREME DEMON, SEQUEL TO SILENT SILENT HALLOWEEN WHICH WAS ALREADY A SEQUEL TO SILENT HALLOWEEN)

griffpatch made a tutorial on it.

After I finish making a few ads IRL I could get a pretty good start on it.
As much as I hate front end development.

This should work:

forever
set size to (((-2.5) * ([abs v] of ((percentDistance) - (50)))) + (200)) %
end

Here's a graph on what it should do to the size based on distance:


You can get your percent distance by dividing the total distance by the current amount traveled and multiplying by 100:

set [percentDistance v] to (((totalDistance) / (traveledDistance)) * (100))

If you create a custom block, this hat is where you put code to tell what the custom block is meant to do.

potatoman3737 wrote:

Malicondi wrote:

potatoman3737 wrote:

Order Type: Art
Order Details: This is sort of a big order, but I would like to have the look of my game revamped ( https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/886120669/ ), including the thumbnail, enemies (though keep their size and shape), and the player skins to be more detailed. Also I would like to make the bullets look nicer if thats possible, thank you.
Time Zone: US CDT (UTC-05)

What style of art?

Arcade style

also, please be a bit more specific, pixel art, 8bit, 1bit, or what?

potatoman3737 wrote:

Malicondi wrote:

potatoman3737 wrote:

Order Type: Art
Order Details: This is sort of a big order, but I would like to have the look of my game revamped ( https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/886120669/ ), including the thumbnail, enemies (though keep their size and shape), and the player skins to be more detailed. Also I would like to make the bullets look nicer if thats possible, thank you.
Time Zone: US CDT (UTC-05)

What style of art?

Arcade style

ok so i know im not listed as artist but imma have a go at this

@heknowsscratch, I think you mis-understood. I gave you the character descriptions, this isn't Gambit. It's a TVA worker. He's supposed to look like Donald from Invincible. Though I don't want this to go to waste so we'll throw him in as a cameo. Sorry for the misunderstanding lol.

Weekly Four, Just the Intro

Author Notes: TW for Guns, Weapons, hints to death, not sure how much applies to the intro, but putting it anyway

The house I was staying in was an eerie sort of silence. The night was falling over the small town I was in, and I could hear zombie noises coming outside. I wasn’t worried though, as I had barricaded the house enough they wouldn’t be able to get in, and even if they did, I had my weapons. Grabbing a can of tomato soup, I downed it like it was a Mnt. Dew. I sighed after finishing the cold and lonely meal, reaching for my journal in the light of my lantern. I had always kept a journal, always willing to document my life. However, I only had time to grab one from my house before I left. I could have grabbed an old one, but I didn’t. Those happy memories were gone, filled with the shallow remains of my new life. Instead, I had an empty notebook, empty minus the few pages I had written in, documenting my new life out in the ruins of the apocalypse. As I was flipping to an empty page, the first entry caught my attention. I pushed a strand of my black hair out of my face, reading it.

Day 1
Here I am, alone. Alone in a world full of former humans, who want nothing but my blood. Today was an eventful day. I went to school like normal, despite the CDC’s warnings of a potential disease that could be spreading. Around mid-day, things went sour. An alarm went off at lunch. A public service announcement popped up on the screen. “WARNING! ZOMBIE VIRUS DETECTED! BARRICADE YOURSELF IN YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR FUTURE INSTRUCTION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
Kids panicked, and I rushed home, only to find my neighborhood already hit by the zombies, including my house and my parents. Luckily the zombies had moved on to find someone else to attack, so I had a moment to pack some stuff. I grabbed an empty backpack, putting a blanket, some canned goods, some bottled water, this empty journal, a few writing utensils, a picture of my family, and a flashlight. I also grabbed the family gun and a knife. Then I ran for my life. Eventually, I found a small house in the middle of nowhere, whose owners looked as though they had evacuated in a rush. I barricaded myself inside, beginning my first day alone surviving a zombie apocalypse.

i must give the illusion of lobbing a grenade by changing sizes thought its lifetime, (top down game)

basically, it starts off at 75%, grows to 200% at the midpoint, then shrinks to 75% when it reaches its destination.

the speed at witch it does this will be dependent on the distance from the player to the destination, with it reaching 200% at the middle of its travel distance

how do i do this

i also have code that keeps it at consistent speed no matter the travel time if that has any use

superash8 wrote:

(#2645)
I'm with you! Controller plugins should be really cool.

Yes. Analog opens up a whole new opportunity for creativity!

The Things I Wrote to Your Ghost (789 words)

-based on a true story someone I love told me-

———

Dear Charlie,

I decided to take a walk downtown the other night.

I needed to get away.

From everything, y’know.

The area was always quiet at night, but then… somehow it felt even more so. Maybe it was the empty sidewalks illuminated by the streetlights. Maybe the sound of near silence penetrated only by some distant laughter and music from the diner down the street. Or maybe… maybe it was just the lack of a warm body beside me. Come to think of it, maybe it was only your presence that kept me from seeing the true emptiness around us.

But, however much you being there had helped me, it was all over now. I was alone, with the streetlights, and the laughter, and the music. Oh… the music.

I recognized the song… Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time”

I remember you walking beside me and spinning me around, singing along to the song and acting all over dramatic… just to make me laugh.

Even as I walked away, the music fading into the background, I could hear you in my mind singing with that warm, smooth voice you had.

“If you’re lost, you can look
And you will find me
Time after time-”

I was lost, and I was looking. But I knew… I wouldn't find you there anymore. Our time was up.

My feet had carried me to where they always did… our spot. The small iron bench looked just like it always did when I approached it -black metal, worn from the years, overlooking the large lake- but there was a part of me that really hoped you would be waiting for me. The water was dark and looked as if it could be solid if I chose to jump onto it. But I wasn't delusional, and I wasn’t tempted to join you anytime soon. Although…

I thought better of it and sat down on the bench. I’m honestly not sure why I went there. It stirred up so many memories in me.

You, ruffling my hair just to annoy me.

You, smiling as you shared the song you wrote and telling me I was the only one allowed to hear it.

You, getting down on one knee and me saying yes.

You, saying you were going to head back to your place for a bit

You, saying you'd come back right after.

You, never coming back.

You.

I found myself crying. Of course. Why wouldn’t I cry? It's just, I hadn't cried the whole time since you’d been gone. People thought I didn't care. People thought I was still in shock. People thought I was delusional. They were all wrong.

You see, I thought I'd accepted everything, but that night, I still felt you there with me. It was like you had decided to become a ghost for a few hours and spent all your time haunting me.

I didn’t mind.

Every tear you made me cry, I relished. Every scream I felt rise in my throat, I held dearly in my heart. I wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. We were going to stay there together until…

Until… I don't know when…

But once again, my delusion passed, and I no longer felt you beside me. I slumped on the bench and let myself feel my face against the metal, the tears burning my cheeks, the warm breeze carried across the lake. I reminded myself that I was there, I was real, I was alive.

I let my finger caress the ring I never took off. The ring I’ll never take off.

I stood up and I stared at the spot on the bench you had always occupied and I let myself turn away.

I walked on, past the diner, and I let myself sing along to the music.

“It’s only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea~”

I walked the empty sidewalks and let myself feel a small warmth next to me.

That was the night I let myself let go.

And I have you to thank for it.

Love, Jon

———

I folded up the letter and sighed. A while had passed since my trip to the lake. I had found a new place. It was nice. I needed the extra room. I adopted a daughter. She loves her dad, but I only wish she could have met the other one. She would have loved him.

She had found the letter and asked about it. I told her it was from a story. She’s only 6. She doesn’t need to know about what happened til she’s older. For now, it’s enough to see her happy.

I still feel you next to me sometimes. I still find myself crying.

I still love you.

co0lcr34t10ns wrote:

gomongemu wrote:

moneeman wrote:

gomongemu wrote:

Is there someone who can do surreal musiclike this?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnXjh8cbnyg
https://youtu.be/XQKsSNk9Fyc?feature=shared
https://youtu.be/IPIxAQT5_Kg?feature=shared

Please fill out a proper form. cause yes it is doable.

Username: Gomongemu
Nickname (will be used, optional): Chris
Pronouns (if in doubt, put they/them): he, him
Music Style (from list of genres): surreal, Yume Nikki style
Details: make it sound similar to these

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnXjh8cbnyg
https://youtu.be/XQKsSNk9Fyc?feature=shared
https://youtu.be/IPIxAQT5_Kg?feature=shared

Preferred Musician (optional):
Codeword: taiko
Other Info: please notify me on my profile comments

Alright Chris, your order has been taken.

Can i edit my order a bit? I would rather it be made by monne man

starlightsparker wrote:

(#112)
this has existed for almost a year
do we have any people signed up for this?
i would help if i wasnt an 11 year old who knows 0.0000001% of python lol

I know that I and a (I think?) few others plan to learn JavaScript over the summer and get the ball rolling then. Not much time available for anything like this during school…

BigNate469 wrote:

(#113)
While I can't help programming myself, and I don't pretend to understand the Gamepad API built into some web browsers, here is an article that may be able to help somewhat: https://developer.mozilla.org/en-US/docs/Web/API/Gamepad_API/Using_the_Gamepad_API

Just be warned: the Gamepad API isn't fully supported on any major browser.

Thanks!! We were thinking about using something similar to what this website uses. Is that the same thing?

SWC fanfiction writing comp entry–1051 words total, my side of the story
note to wild: i'm planning on interspersing these with yours, it'll start with the first rp if that's all right with you and then maybe transition to my first (and only sobbing) main storyline contribution, and then we can figure it out from there lol i want to do it in a somewhat chronological order so it makes sense but other than that i don't really care what goes where

“……..” is all Chuey says. “Wild you jinxed us-”
“YES!” Chuey screams, high-fiving Wild. “Thanks, Wild! This is awesome!” She ducks a flaming piece of rubble, a beatific smile on her face.
++++
“TRAITOR,” Chuey screams, pointing at Wild. She has an uncanny habit of fluctuating between a Balrog supporter and a Balrog non-supporter.
“THEY'RE ONE AND THE SAME!”
“It's him, all right,” Chuey says grimly. “And he's going to destroy everything. Gurtle has turned evil.”
++++
Chuey knew what she had to do. There had to be a way to stop this monster, somehow! She’d always distrusted Gurtle anyway. Those beady eyes…that cute but malicious grin…No, no, she’d seen this coming, but they hadn’t listened. They hadn’t seen the absolute promise of destruction in his sweet ways. He’d eaten one too many links, and grown strong on them. Now it was time to end it all, for the sake of the campers. She paused only to set fire to the Fairy Tales cabin, then began gathering all the procrastination potatoes she could find and lobbing them at Balrog-Gurtle. It didn’t work so well. He was just eating them! His digestion was strong after devouring so many links. Growling in frustration, Chuey ran over to the hosts, shaking them. “You’ve got to help! You’ve got to!” But they were unresponsive, eyes glazed over, and her heart rose to her throat. They were truly on their own here. Swallowing, she turned to face the monster that was trashing camp, wondering what on earth she could do. Campers were everywhere, running and screaming in confusion as he roared again. Chuey fought to keep the panic down, trying to think things out logically. First things first, she had to get the campers organized. It wouldn’t do them any good to run around screaming like headless chickens. But with more noise, cause, you know, headless chickens couldn’t exactly scream. Because they had no head. And now she was stalling. Shaking herself, she beelined towards the nearest camper and grabbed their arm, pulling them to safety as Gurtle hurled a giant piece of what used to be the Main Cabin at them. “Keep safe!” Chuey shouted to everyone within hearing range, then jogged off to see if she could find any of her friends. Surely they would know what to do! After all, they were all experienced, way more than she was, and they’d know how to manage this crisis. She dove through burning rubble, showers of mangoes–stopping to shove one in her pocket–okay, maybe two–and then stopped, realizing that in this chaos, it was going to be impossible to find anyone, let alone someone she knew. All the faces were blurs as they streaked by, and by now, most people had run for cover and were cowering in their cabins. A few brave souls were gathering weapons, but not many. Chuey lifted her chin. Fine, then. She’d join the few who were ready to fight. She picked up a knife and with the last of her adrenaline-fueled energy ran over. “What can I do to help?” she panted.
++++
Chuey was exhausted. It had been a long, tiring day of fighting–not only against the Balrog, but against cabins who had taken advantage of the chaos to set enemy cabins on fire. Betrayals, traitors, weary cabin mates…she was facing a disaster. Sighing, Chuey sat down to put out the fire, even though she was sick of the smell of smoke by this point. After all, if she didn't do it, who would? Her cabin was in shambles–not that that was unique to Fan-fi. Everyone was tired, and the Balrog was still rampaging, albeit with less energy. Campers had been fighting against it all day, and it was finally beginning to weaken. But it wasn't enough. They needed more. Chuey took a quick break, gazing sadly at the rubble lying around camp. Good grief, when she'd signed up for this, she'd been anticipating lighthearted mangoes and arson, not this. This…this was total destruction. And it was all Gurtle's fault. Growling to herself over the injustice of it–She'd seen Gurtle's true nature, but had anyone listened to her? No! She was like…like a rebel. The word settled around her, and slowly she nodded. Yeah. Chuey was a rebel. An outcast. Not in matters of friendship–she had lots of friends. But she stood against the Scratch writing camp mascot while everyone was still defending him–“Oh, he's just eating a couple of links, he's just hungry, look at his cute, beady eyes.” She'd seen this coming. No, no. Rebel was all wrong. She was a herald. One who could see what lay beyond. Yeah, she liked that better. The herald of doom. Doom to all enemies, doom to traitors, and most especially doom to Gurtle. A smile slashed across her face. Balrog-Gurtle didn't stand a chance. Because Chuey had seen him, and Chuey knew what was going to happen, and unable to stop it in time, Chuey was going to make it right and save them all. She left her cabin behind and struck out into the rubble, working to clear it away from the remains of the Main Cabin. She'd hidden something inside, something she'd never thought she'd have to use. But times were desperate, and the fires weren't going out. She walked quickly along the ruined, scorched halls until she reached a tiny, ash-covered, circular door. Blowing the dust and ash away, she reaching for the gleaming golden knob and gently opened it. Beyond lay intense brilliance, suggesting full daylight wherever the door led to, and as she blinked away the sudden light she could dimly see rolling green hills and mounds, into which were set circular doors much like this one. Her smile widened as she wriggled through. If she couldn't find enough help in this world…well, she'd just have to seek it from another one.
She was a rebel. A herald. And now a quester.
And she'd bring Balrog-Gurtle down if it killed her.
(Although she really, really, really hoped it wouldn't)
++++
One last farewell…
Campers cheered, celebrating Gurtle's return to normal. The tyrants began to awaken.
And one figure slipped away, lips drawn to a thin line.
Let them celebrate.
Let them cheer.
But the herald of doom would be back…

_NovaNebula_ wrote:

DuWeido wrote:

Skadoodly wrote:

Illumilimbs wrote:

7salad3salad wrote:

randomguy3513 wrote:

Currently making my nation rn, not sharing cords until its done. Still thinking about the name. It will be underground though.

you probably shouldnt share the coords in general

probably not a smart idea

I mean griefing and stealing is super illegal/bannable

Although one of our friends that is named after type of minivan never got banned for that

https://automobiles.honda.com/odyssey

Wow I was afraid no one would get that joke lol

I used to have a link that acts like the Scratch API but had a feature that converts some Scratcher IDs to usernames, but has recently (not sure how recently) broke and now am searching for a new way to convert Scratcher ID to Username.
EDIT 1: @juniorb-ballstar111 has ID 15680062 (thanks to @dzje, still don't know his methods though.)
EDIT 2: I forgot to mention, should be able to convert most IDs. I do have a link for a lot but not most..
(Thank you and sorry @mybearworld)

DuWeido wrote:

Skadoodly wrote:

Illumilimbs wrote:

7salad3salad wrote:

randomguy3513 wrote:

Currently making my nation rn, not sharing cords until its done. Still thinking about the name. It will be underground though.

you probably shouldnt share the coords in general

probably not a smart idea

I mean griefing and stealing is super illegal/bannable

Although one of our friends that is named after type of minivan never got banned for that

https://automobiles.honda.com/odyssey

This level is Forest Fulla Fuzzies from World 4 of this game's Story Mode. I updated it a while ago, but Ben didn't see the new version. I can't post the new version here because of “unsuitable language,” so you can find it in the link below: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/934345363/

Skadoodly wrote:

Illumilimbs wrote:

7salad3salad wrote:

randomguy3513 wrote:

Currently making my nation rn, not sharing cords until its done. Still thinking about the name. It will be underground though.

you probably shouldnt share the coords in general

probably not a smart idea

I mean griefing and stealing is super illegal/bannable

Although one of our friends that is named after type of minivan never got banned for that

mumu245 wrote:

PhiPhenomenon wrote:

(#11)
There's a pretty cool infinite sum that can be used to calculate pi:

(I swear there's an image, cubeupload's just down)
However, it's pretty slow. You have to sum like the first thousand terms of the terms to get like the first four places of pi.

There's a faster one called the Machin formula, but it requires a little more math:

(There's also an image here)
You can find the arctangent block from the operators section:

([atan v] of ())

Scratch is not precise enough.

* * *

Decimals in Scratch aren't infinitely precise. The computer uses 58 bits, which equates to about 10 digits.

If the OP wanted to, they could use the arbitrary-precision arithmetic described in Super Pi Calc by DadOfMrLog. To avoid loss of precision from Scratch decimals, it uses lists to keep track of individual terms. Then it manually sums them together instead of using the addition operator.

the game
I just started working on this game and I've already encountered a bug that I can't find my way around. I have no clue what's causing it but since I just started the game, there's not much to look at so it shouldn't be hard to find the issue. Anyways for puzzle 1 when you click all 4 dots it brings you to puzzle 2 where it should be hiding all the dots from the previous level but…I have no clue what's causing it to hide only one dot.
yeah im a rookie

jvvg wrote:

They often are either people who are just trying to cause disruption either out of anger or simply out of a desire to be disruptive (sadly a lot of people want to cause disruption just for the sake of it). Griffpatch would be a popular target simply due to being the most well-known Scratcher.

Yeah, they spam inappropriate messages on his profile However they get mass-reported and IP-banned.

I saw a scratcher a few days ago with a really old account (17 years) and the PFP was a face (not a cat) but @eltro has a cat and he joined only 3 months later. when did they change to scratch cat?

Basically, the idea is that if you use someone else's creations in your Scratch project, you need to properly credit them. You can do this for anything that was made on Scratch. If you use things that were not made on Scratch, it is your responsibility to determine whether you have the right to use them. As far as the Scratch Team is concerned, as long as you provide proper credit, you can use other copyrighted material in your projects.

If another copyright holder sees you use their creations in your content, they can submit a DMCA takedown request if they choose to do so. In this case the Scratch Team will take down your project, but you won't be in any trouble unless you continue to post the same sort of content.

#3090
回答プロジェクトです。

演算ブロックで以下のようにすると、

((項リスト :: list) の長さ)

項リストの中身「ab cd -aaa a/d」の長さの14が出力されます。
このブロックは、「文字列の長さ」を出力します。
そのため項の値リストの長さが14になってしまったのでしょう。

リストのカテゴリーのブロックを使うことで、「リストの項目の数」が出力されます。

([項リスト v] の長さ :: list)

この2つをよく使い分けてください。

Weekly Four, Full Story, Unedited

Author Notes: TW for Guns, Weapons, hints to death

The house I was staying in was an eerie sort of silence. The night was falling over the small town I was in, and I could hear zombie noises coming outside. I wasn’t worried though, as I had barricaded the house enough they wouldn’t be able to get in, and even if they did, I had my weapons. Grabbing a can of tomato soup, I downed it like it was a Mnt. Dew. I sighed after finishing the cold and lonely meal, reaching for my journal in the light of my lantern. I had always kept a journal, always willing to document my life. However, I only had time to grab one from my house before I left. I could have grabbed an old one, but I didn’t. Those happy memories were gone, filled with the shallow remains of my new life. Instead, I had an empty notebook, empty minus the few pages I had written in, documenting my new life out in the ruins of the apocalypse. As I was flipping to an empty page, the first entry caught my attention. I pushed a strand of my black hair out of my face, reading it.

Day 1
Here I am, alone. Alone in a world full of former humans, who want nothing but my blood. Today was an eventful day. I went to school like normal, despite the CDC’s warnings of a potential disease that could be spreading. Around mid-day, things went sour. An alarm went off at lunch. A public service announcement popped up on the screen. “WARNING! ZOMBIE VIRUS DETECTED! BARRICADE YOURSELF IN YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR FUTURE INSTRUCTION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
Kids panicked, and I rushed home, only to find my neighborhood already hit by the zombies, including my house and my parents. Luckily the zombies had moved on to find someone else to attack, so I had a moment to pack some stuff. I grabbed an empty backpack, putting a blanket, some canned goods, some bottled water, this empty journal, a few writing utensils, a picture of my family, and a flashlight. I also grabbed the family gun and a knife. Then I ran for my life. Eventually, I found a small house in the middle of nowhere, whose owners looked as though they had evacuated in a rush. I barricaded myself inside, beginning my first day alone surviving a zombie apocalypse.


After rereading my first journal entry, I wrote a small bit about today, before shutting my journal and shoving it in my backpack. I hopped on the couch, turning out my lantern, before getting some sleep.

After waking up from my slumber, I noticed the sun was already peeking through the trees surrounding the house I was currently sheltering in. I checked my supply of food. I was quickly running out, and that worried me. Then the TV turned on. On it was a military general, making an announcement to the survivors.

“Hello, survivors of America. We bring you the news of a plan we are putting into place to keep as many people alive as possible. Recently, we discovered that the zombie virus, and the zombies, can’t survive in cold temperatures. Using this to our advantage, we request all survivors make it down to the closest airport before the end of the month. We will have military servicemen located at all of the airports and will make flights to Alaska until the end of the month. There we will focus on finding a cure for the virus and rebuilding humanity as a whole. We await your arrival. Until then, stay safe, and good luck.”

The TV flickered off. I quickly searched the house, trying to find a map to tell me where the nearest airport was. Eventually, I found a map. I located where I was, and found the closest airport was in Orlando, Florida, and was around 90 miles away from my current location. I bit my lip, checking the calendar. It was, if my calculations were correct, the 18th of March. It would take too long and would be too dangerous to go on foot. I had to figure something out. I began to stuff my backpack with my remaining supplies, as well as any supplies I found around the house. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbing my weapons, before carefully walking outside. Outside, I noticed a small garage just off the side of the house. Walking to it, I noticed it was locked. However, there was a window on the side, and I was able to smash it, and I climbed inside. Inside was a small car. I grinned, knowing this was the perfect way out. I unlocked the garage door from the inside, and after a quick glance around the garage, I found the keys to the car. Throwing my stuff inside, I noticed the gas was at ¾’s of a tank. “Hmmm…” I said out loud, to myself, before spotting a bright red gas can. It was around half full, but it would work. I placed the gas can in the back, and hopped into the car, igniting the engine. I put it into drive, hit the gas, and was off down the small gravel road snaking its way from the house to a main road.
My driving was far from perfect. I was only 15 and only had a small bit of behind-the-wheel experience. “I miss you dad…” I whispered, remembering the vast plans of driving practice we were going to have. I still swerved a bit, bumping down the gravel road, but I knew enough to drive. Eventually, I arrived at the main road, which was an eerie sort of empty, minus a few wrecked cars and a few zombies roaming around. I hit the gas, driving down the highway, maneuvering around the wrecks and the zombies, and soon cruising at around 50 miles per hour down the highway. After a few hours, I noticed a military base on the edge of the highway. I decided to stop there, grab some supplies, and go from there.
As I pulled into the military base, I noticed it was an eerie sort of quiet. The base had been evacuated, but the wreckage of a helicopter was still on fire, presumably from when a zombie had overtaken the crew flying the copter. I pulled my car next to an empty helicopter pad, near the main base building, and hopped out, grabbing my stuff. I clutched my gun tight in my hand, in case a zombie were to jump out at me. I made it into the main building with no issues and quickly scanned my surroundings. There were signs of a battle, but no human or zombie was currently taking refuge in the building. I sat down, and dug through my backpack, grabbing some food and a bit of water. I downed it, staring at a digital clock above the door, which told me it was 6 p.m.
Soon, I grabbed my journal and began to write. As I was writing, I heard the noise of gunshots and zombies outside. I rose, rushing to the window. There, I saw a boy, just over 18 running away from a small horde of zombies, taking them down with ease. He rushed inside, not even noticing me, leaving the door as he began to scan the building. I shut the door behind him, so no zombie could make their way inside. At the sound of the door closing, he spun around, pointing his gun at me. I froze. “Don’t worry, I’m good. I’m human.” I said, trying to reassure him.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning me, but soon decided I wasn’t worth his time. He finished his search of the building, before laying down on a nearby chair and falling asleep. I sighed, finishing my journal entry, before falling asleep myself.

Waking up, I looked around groggily, seeing the clock read 7:13 A.M. The soldier was awake, and was scanning the base through the base. I walked quietly over to him. “Hello,” I said, quietly.
He looked over to me, his dark brown eye studying me. I paused, hesitating for a bit, before saying, “What’s your name?”
“Private Miller,” He said, “Private Blake Miller. Yours?”
“Hazel. Hazel Stegeman,” I replied.
He nodded, absorbing this information. “How’d you get here, Hazel?”
I sigh. “Well, I was at school. I’m…I mean…I was only a sophomore…I turn 16 in May. We were told to go home and hide in the middle of the day. When I got home, everyone in my neighborhood was already turned… I didn’t see my parents, but the house looked… disturbed. I just gathered a few things and ran. I don’t have any family besides my parents, so I’m unsure if I even have anyone left. I’m just trying to get to the airport and go from there.”
He nodded. “I joined the military. My troop was sent to defend a town, but we were overwhelmed. I’m the only one left. I’m trying to rejoin a troop. I don’t even know how my family is doing.” he said, his voice sharing no emotion.
I nod, silence filling the room once more. I look down, a little awkward, before taking a breath. “Well, I think I’m going to search the base for supplies real fast. Then I’m going to resume my journey to the airport,” I said, grabbing my backpack. He nodded, presumably going to do the same, as he walked out of the main building. I followed, but spilled up, going towards a building that looked like a storage building. It had a small lock on it, which after a few seconds of work, I managed to break through. Inside, there were a few zombies which were easily downed. “I’m sorry…” I breathed, but I knew it was me or them. I managed to get some more food, as well as a slightly better gun and some ammo for it. Wandering out, I pondered whether I should use the car I borrowed from the house I had previously stayed in or if I should attempt to find a different, better vehicle. My question was answered when Blake drove over to me in one of those army vehicles that could fit a lot of soldiers in it. He didn’t say anything but motioned for me to hop into the back. I nodded, throwing my stuff in the back, before remembering my gas can in the car. I grabbed it, and jumped into the back, and relished the wind blowing through my hair as we drove out of the military base, picking up speed. I noticed on the sign that it said 70 miles to Orlando. “We’ll make it,” I whispered to myself. Soon, I drifted to sleep as we drove down the highway.
There I was, just a young kid, playing with the neighborhood kids, cheering as my team scored the winning point in our tiny soccer game. The same neighborhood was there as my father helped me down the street on a bicycle I had received as a birthday gift. The neighborhood didn’t change as I grew older, waiting for a yellow school bus to pick me up for my first day of middle school. Again, I was older, driving my car with my dad in the passenger seat, rolling past the houses. Finally, I watched myself as I ran past burning houses, houses barricaded quickly with wooden planks. I heard zombies behind me, as I ran and ran, trying to get away. I screamed tripping, the world spinning out of focus, as we came to a complete…

Stop.

I woke with a start, my dream turned nightmare putting me on high alert. The vehicle was stopped and a couple of zombies were approaching. We were in a small town. I jumped to my feet, my gun in my hands, as I looked for Blake. “We’re out of gas!” he yelled.
“Gas can!” I replied, grabbing my red thing of gas and handing it to him.
He nodded. “Defend me,” he ordered, going to fill up the vehicle. I jumped out of the vehicle, shooting into the horde, pleading that I could hold them off long enough to get out to safety. Suddenly, another figure rushed over, taking out the remainder of the horde. I look up at the newcomer and see it is a grown man, dressed in another military uniform. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Hazel. You?” came my reply.
“Colonel Tom Johnson. Where are you headed?” he asked.
“Orlando Airport,” I replied.
“Figured. Listen, the government says the last plane leaves on the 25th now, the horde has grown, and we are losing a ton of men. I was heading there too, I just got stuck in this town because my vehicle broke down.” he replied.
“You can come with us, Sir,” Blake said, holding a now-empty gas can. “There’s room in the back.”
The colonel nodded. “Thank you Private,” he said, noting his badge. “I shall take you up on this offer.”
We all returned to the vehicle, and Blake put the gas can next to me. He hopped into the driver’s seat, as the colonel hopped in across the car from me. We began to ride away, dodging a few zombies. Leaving the small town, the miles left to Orlando was 50. As we drove down the highway, I grabbed my journal and began to write.

Day 11
I’m currently in a vehicle with two army people, both older than me. Neither of them talks much, only when it’s important. I think they are just as nervous around me as I am around them. I’m heading for Orlando like I was yesterday. I’m getting closer as we speak but now I’m worried that we won’t make it before the military pulls out. Apparently, it’s getting worse. A lot worse. The fact I’ve only found two survivors in the variety of towns I’ve been through proves that. I don't know how I’m still going. I’m only 15, and I’ve been alone since the beginning. Now I’m with a soldier and a colonel. I think I may make it. I think we may make it. If anyone was to make it though, it would be the other two. I’m scared I’m only going to weigh them down. I just hope we can make it through…what do you do when there's nothing left to live for in the zombie apocalypse?

I closed my notebook, sliding it into my bag. My photo caught my eye. The only memnto of my old life. I stared at it, deep in thought. Maybe one day I would make it back to my old house, to collect my old journals, my old photos. Maybe my parents were still out there, alive, looking for me. Maybe they thought I had been turned and given up hope. I was unsure. I looked up at the colonel. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, perhaps about his own family, or maybe about the whole zombie situation. I didn’t know. I just looked into the distance, letting the sound of the wind carry my thoughts away to the distance.

I woke up, yawning. Looking around groggily, I noticed a city rising up in the distance. Off the side of the road, I noticed a small building with the wreckage of a plane in it, as well as a horde of zombies with the outfits of police officers and firefighters, and several emergency vehicles nearby. I cringed, knowing the virus probably got the plane, and when the first responders went to help, they got bit and taken by the virus as well. I looked away, noticing the colonel looked as though he had just woken up himself. I then looked away again, back at the city, knowing we were almost there. The vehicle turned to a side road, labeled as the path to the airport. The engine hummed as we approached the airport. Immediately, we noticed the airport was quiet…eerily quiet. Eventually, we reached the front of the airport, and the vehicle came to a stop. We hopped out, clutching our weapons tight. We walked in, noticing the lights were out and the place was trashed. We glanced at each other, before walking forward. Suddenly, we heard a noise. The noise of a zombie. We all looked around as zombies began to come out and swarm us. I heard the colonel shot and heard myself scream as we jumped into action. We fought, the sounds of the zombies intermingling with the sounds of gunshots. I watched in horror as the colonel was taken down by a massive horde of zombies, disappearing underneath them. “NO!” I screamed, running towards the terminals. I was alone, alone with a horde of zombies after me. I had lost track of Blake, I had lost track of where anything was. I just had to survive.
Soon I heard the sound of a plane powering up. I sprinted towards it, losing the zombies. I ran towards the plane sound, giving everything I got. Soon, I made it out to a runway, where an airforce soldier was standing there. I rushed to him. “Hurry! Orlando is overrun! This is our last flight out of here!” he said.
“My…my,” I said shakily, not even knowing what to classify them as. We had barley spoken, only known each other for a few days, yet were willing to defend each other for anything.
“You’ve got people in there kid?” the solder asked.
I nodded. “I’ll give them five minutes,” he said, going to finish preparations for the flight.”
I paused for a moment, catching my breath. It was silent again, minus the sound of the plane and my own breathing and heartbeat. I exhaled again, pleading that Blake would make it out, make it without succumbing to the virus. Eventually, a figure approached the entryway. I held my breath. Out came a zombie…that looked exactly like Blake. “No…” I said, my world spinning. I had left him, and now he was gone. And I was going to have to take him out in order to make it out of Orlando with my life. I raised my gun, ready to shoot, my hands shaking. “I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. I had only known him for a few days…but he had been willing to help me despite having his own goals. He drove all the way to this airport for me.

I closed my eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

My finger began to move.

Suddenly, something in me snapped, and I chucked the gun at Blake with my full force. It didn’t kill him, but it was enough to knock him to the ground as I boarded the plane. I shut the door. “Go…” I said to the pilot, who nodded, leading the plane down the runway to take flight. I sat in a plane seat, numb to the world. Grabbing my journal, I began to write again.

Day 12
I lost them. They’re gone. It’s not fair. Why did I survive and they didn’t? Maybe there’s still hope. Perhaps we’ll find a cure and save them. Maybe one day, we’ll even meet again, as humans. Maybe…

A single tear fell on my page, as the plane engines roared. We soared over Orlando, going to a place. The future was uncertain. As the sun set, I drifted to sleep again…numb to the world.

daily thirty . least fav power . 279 words

i sat up in my bed, awaking to a strange fog that filled my bedroom. the cool air made me feel an odd sense of calmness, and i sleepily laid back down, wrapping the blankets around my face.
suddenly, a witchy figure appeared from out of the fog and made her way to my bedside. “hello child,” she croaked. “it is to my pleasure that i’ve heard you are struggling with bullies?” i nodded, hypnotized by the fog swirling around me. “i’ve come here to help you with those bullies.” “superpowers!” i declared, feeling a bit loopy. i broke into laughter and the witch let out a couple forced chuckles. “ahaha right. so what power would you like my dear?” she asked me. “super!” i answered, still giggling. “mhm. how about super speed? or invisibility? i can grant you anything you wish.” i thought for a moment, taking a bit too long to decide. “enough of this,” the witch snapped. she swooped a glass jar around the room, capturing as much fog as possible, then dropped four drops of a thick purple liquid inside of it. after a few minutes of shaking it, she dumped it in my mouth and forced me to swallow. “here you are dear! the power to dig very deep holes to escape the bullies. goodbye now!” in an instant, she has disappeared into the fog, and it slowly made its way out my open window. as soon as all the fog had drained from me room, the weird spell had worn off. once i realized what i’d just agreed to, i let out a big sigh. “what the heck is this? this power sucks.”

TheUltimateHoodie wrote:

honestly, i don't get the hype around the towerverse. i watched a playthrough and at the end i just thought seriously? if i was robtop i would just have featured it and move along my day

it's really good but we would've seen it by now regardless

Hello! I would just like to say that I'm on a student account, and I'm still here for maybe a year and a half. One of my friend's accounts got deleted, and I agree with everyone else. ST shouldn't delete student profiles!
(Im pretty sure my teacher made it so we didn't have our accounts deleted, but that isnt the case for most people.)

No, that would probably be a bypass if you could

Weekly 4: MemorieSWC

Author Notes: TW for Guns, Weapons, hints to death

Part 1: Outline
238 words:

Set in a dystopian time period, ravaged by a zombie apocalypse, a teenage girl struggles to survive alone in the destroyed war.
After arriving at a military base, also overtaken by zombies, she finds an 18-year-old soldier, the last soldier from his troop.
After leaving the military base together, they travel silently down the road. Arriving in a small town, they stop to raid houses for supplies, when they find a Corporal, a young adult man, who also joins them on their newfound mission to make it to the airport in Orlando, to fly to safety up in Alaska, the only place the zombies can’t survive.
They drive together for miles, never saying much. They have a few close calls driving through various small towns and cities.
Eventually, they arrive at the airport but are attacked by a massive horde of zombies by the various people who had been in the airport when the airport was attacked. The three try their best to survive, but only the girl makes it, while the other two turn into zombies themselves.
The girl rushes to the plane, but not before having to fight off the 18 year old boy, who had unknowingly come after her in his zombified state. Forced to choose between herself or the boy, she chooses herself, ending the zombie, before getting on the plane, flying away alone, mourning the silent silence from the lack of her colleagues.

Part 2: Beginning
400 words

The house I was staying in was an eerie sort of silence. The night was falling over the small town I was in, and I could hear zombie noises coming outside. I wasn’t worried though, as I had barricaded the house enough they wouldn’t be able to get in, and even if they did, I had my weapons. Grabbing a can of tomato soup, I downed it like it was a Mnt. Dew. I sighed after finishing the cold and lonely meal, reaching for my journal in the light of my lantern. I had always kept a journal, always willing to document my life. However, I only had time to grab one from my house before I left. I could have grabbed an old one, but I didn’t. Those happy memories were gone, filled with the shallow remains of my new life. Instead, I had an empty notebook, empty minus the few pages I had written in, documenting my new life out in the ruins of the apocalypse. As I was flipping to an empty page, the first entry caught my attention. I pushed a strand of my black hair out of my face, reading it.

Day 1
Here I am, alone. Alone in a world full of former humans, who want nothing but my blood. Today was an eventful day. I went to school like normal, despite the CDC’s warnings of a potential disease that could be spreading. Around mid-day, things went sour. An alarm went off at lunch. A public service announcement popped up on the screen. “WARNING! ZOMBIE VIRUS DETECTED! BARRICADE YOURSELF IN YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR FUTURE INSTRUCTION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
Kids panicked, and I rushed home, only to find my neighborhood already hit by the zombies, including my house and my parents. Luckily the zombies had moved on to find someone else to attack, so I had a moment to pack some stuff. I grabbed an empty backpack, putting a blanket, some canned goods, some bottled water, this empty journal, a few writing utensils, a picture of my family, and a flashlight. I also grabbed the family gun and a knife. Then I ran for my life. Eventually, I found a small house in the middle of nowhere, whose owners looked as though they had evacuated in a rush. I barricaded myself inside, beginning my first day alone surviving a zombie apocalypse.


Part 3: Stirring the Soup
2857 words


After rereading my first journal entry, I wrote a small bit about today, before shutting my journal and shoving it in my backpack. I hopped on the couch, turning out my lantern, before getting some sleep.

After waking up from my slumber, I noticed the sun was already peeking through the trees surrounding the house I was currently sheltering in. I checked my supply of food. I was quickly running out, and that worried me. Then the TV turned on. On it was a military general, making an announcement to the survivors.

“Hello, survivors of America. We bring you the news of a plan we are putting into place to keep as many people alive as possible. Recently, we discovered that the zombie virus, and the zombies, can’t survive in cold temperatures. Using this to our advantage, we request all survivors make it down to the closest airport before the end of the month. We will have military servicemen located at all of the airports and will make flights to Alaska until the end of the month. There we will focus on finding a cure for the virus and rebuilding humanity as a whole. We await your arrival. Until then, stay safe, and good luck.”

The TV flickered off. I quickly searched the house, trying to find a map to tell me where the nearest airport was. Eventually, I found a map. I located where I was, and found the closest airport was in Orlando, Florida, and was around 90 miles away from my current location. I bit my lip, checking the calendar. It was, if my calculations were correct, the 18th of March. It would take too long and would be too dangerous to go on foot. I had to figure something out. I began to stuff my backpack with my remaining supplies, as well as any supplies I found around the house. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbing my weapons, before carefully walking outside. Outside, I noticed a small garage just off the side of the house. Walking to it, I noticed it was locked. However, there was a window on the side, and I was able to smash it, and I climbed inside. Inside was a small car. I grinned, knowing this was the perfect way out. I unlocked the garage door from the inside, and after a quick glance around the garage, I found the keys to the car. Throwing my stuff inside, I noticed the gas was at ¾’s of a tank. “Hmmm…” I said out loud, to myself, before spotting a bright red gas can. It was around half full, but it would work. I placed the gas can in the back, and hopped into the car, igniting the engine. I put it into drive, hit the gas, and was off down the small gravel road snaking its way from the house to a main road.
My driving was far from perfect. I was only 15 and only had a small bit of behind-the-wheel experience. “I miss you dad…” I whispered, remembering the vast plans of driving practice we were going to have. I still swerved a bit, bumping down the gravel road, but I knew enough to drive. Eventually, I arrived at the main road, which was an eerie sort of empty, minus a few wrecked cars and a few zombies roaming around. I hit the gas, driving down the highway, maneuvering around the wrecks and the zombies, and soon cruising at around 50 miles per hour down the highway. After a few hours, I noticed a military base on the edge of the highway. I decided to stop there, grab some supplies, and go from there.
As I pulled into the military base, I noticed it was an eerie sort of quiet. The base had been evacuated, but the wreckage of a helicopter was still on fire, presumably from when a zombie had overtaken the crew flying the copter. I pulled my car next to an empty helicopter pad, near the main base building, and hopped out, grabbing my stuff. I clutched my gun tight in my hand, in case a zombie were to jump out at me. I made it into the main building with no issues and quickly scanned my surroundings. There were signs of a battle, but no human or zombie was currently taking refuge in the building. I sat down, and dug through my backpack, grabbing some food and a bit of water. I downed it, staring at a digital clock above the door, which told me it was 6 p.m.
Soon, I grabbed my journal and began to write. As I was writing, I heard the noise of gunshots and zombies outside. I rose, rushing to the window. There, I saw a boy, just over 18 running away from a small horde of zombies, taking them down with ease. He rushed inside, not even noticing me, leaving the door as he began to scan the building. I shut the door behind him, so no zombie could make their way inside. At the sound of the door closing, he spun around, pointing his gun at me. I froze. “Don’t worry, I’m good. I’m human.” I said, trying to reassure him.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning me, but soon decided I wasn’t worth his time. He finished his search of the building, before laying down on a nearby chair and falling asleep. I sighed, finishing my journal entry, before falling asleep myself.

Waking up, I looked around groggily, seeing the clock read 7:13 A.M. The soldier was awake, and was scanning the base through the base. I walked quietly over to him. “Hello,” I said, quietly.
He looked over to me, his dark brown eye studying me. I paused, hesitating for a bit, before saying, “What’s your name?”
“Private Miller,” He said, “Private Blake Miller. Yours?”
“Hazel. Hazel Stegeman,” I replied.
He nodded, absorbing this information. “How’d you get here, Hazel?”
I sigh. “Well, I was at school. I’m…I mean…I was only a sophomore…I turn 16 in May. We were told to go home and hide in the middle of the day. When I got home, everyone in my neighborhood was already turned… I didn’t see my parents, but the house looked… disturbed. I just gathered a few things and ran. I don’t have any family besides my parents, so I’m unsure if I even have anyone left. I’m just trying to get to the airport and go from there.”
He nodded. “I joined the military. My troop was sent to defend a town, but we were overwhelmed. I’m the only one left. I’m trying to rejoin a troop. I don’t even know how my family is doing.” he said, his voice sharing no emotion.
I nod, silence filling the room once more. I look down, a little awkward, before taking a breath. “Well, I think I’m going to search the base for supplies real fast. Then I’m going to resume my journey to the airport,” I said, grabbing my backpack. He nodded, presumably going to do the same, as he walked out of the main building. I followed, but spilled up, going towards a building that looked like a storage building. It had a small lock on it, which after a few seconds of work, I managed to break through. Inside, there were a few zombies which were easily downed. “I’m sorry…” I breathed, but I knew it was me or them. I managed to get some more food, as well as a slightly better gun and some ammo for it. Wandering out, I pondered whether I should use the car I borrowed from the house I had previously stayed in or if I should attempt to find a different, better vehicle. My question was answered when Blake drove over to me in one of those army vehicles that could fit a lot of soldiers in it. He didn’t say anything but motioned for me to hop into the back. I nodded, throwing my stuff in the back, before remembering my gas can in the car. I grabbed it, and jumped into the back, and relished the wind blowing through my hair as we drove out of the military base, picking up speed. I noticed on the sign that it said 70 miles to Orlando. “We’ll make it,” I whispered to myself. Soon, I drifted to sleep as we drove down the highway.
There I was, just a young kid, playing with the neighborhood kids, cheering as my team scored the winning point in our tiny soccer game. The same neighborhood was there as my father helped me down the street on a bicycle I had received as a birthday gift. The neighborhood didn’t change as I grew older, waiting for a yellow school bus to pick me up for my first day of middle school. Again, I was older, driving my car with my dad in the passenger seat, rolling past the houses. Finally, I watched myself as I ran past burning houses, houses barricaded quickly with wooden planks. I heard zombies behind me, as I ran and ran, trying to get away. I screamed tripping, the world spinning out of focus, as we came to a complete…

Stop.

I woke with a start, my dream turned nightmare putting me on high alert. The vehicle was stopped and a couple of zombies were approaching. We were in a small town. I jumped to my feet, my gun in my hands, as I looked for Blake. “We’re out of gas!” he yelled.
“Gas can!” I replied, grabbing my red thing of gas and handing it to him.
He nodded. “Defend me,” he ordered, going to fill up the vehicle. I jumped out of the vehicle, shooting into the horde, pleading that I could hold them off long enough to get out to safety. Suddenly, another figure rushed over, taking out the remainder of the horde. I look up at the newcomer and see it is a grown man, dressed in another military uniform. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Hazel. You?” came my reply.
“Colonel Tom Johnson. Where are you headed?” he asked.
“Orlando Airport,” I replied.
“Figured. Listen, the government says the last plane leaves on the 25th now, the horde has grown, and we are losing a ton of men. I was heading there too, I just got stuck in this town because my vehicle broke down.” he replied.
“You can come with us, Sir,” Blake said, holding a now-empty gas can. “There’s room in the back.”
The colonel nodded. “Thank you Private,” he said, noting his badge. “I shall take you up on this offer.”
We all returned to the vehicle, and Blake put the gas can next to me. He hopped into the driver’s seat, as the colonel hopped in across the car from me. We began to ride away, dodging a few zombies. Leaving the small town, the miles left to Orlando was 50. As we drove down the highway, I grabbed my journal and began to write.

Day 11
I’m currently in a vehicle with two army people, both older than me. Neither of them talks much, only when it’s important. I think they are just as nervous around me as I am around them. I’m heading for Orlando like I was yesterday. I’m getting closer as we speak but now I’m worried that we won’t make it before the military pulls out. Apparently, it’s getting worse. A lot worse. The fact I’ve only found two survivors in the variety of towns I’ve been through proves that. I don't know how I’m still going. I’m only 15, and I’ve been alone since the beginning. Now I’m with a soldier and a colonel. I think I may make it. I think we may make it. If anyone was to make it though, it would be the other two. I’m scared I’m only going to weigh them down. I just hope we can make it through…what do you do when there's nothing left to live for in the zombie apocalypse?

I closed my notebook, sliding it into my bag. My photo caught my eye. The only memnto of my old life. I stared at it, deep in thought. Maybe one day I would make it back to my old house, to collect my old journals, my old photos. Maybe my parents were still out there, alive, looking for me. Maybe they thought I had been turned and given up hope. I was unsure. I looked up at the colonel. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, perhaps about his own family, or maybe about the whole zombie situation. I didn’t know. I just looked into the distance, letting the sound of the wind carry my thoughts away to the distance.

I woke up, yawning. Looking around groggily, I noticed a city rising up in the distance. Off the side of the road, I noticed a small building with the wreckage of a plane in it, as well as a horde of zombies with the outfits of police officers and firefighters, and several emergency vehicles nearby. I cringed, knowing the virus probably got the plane, and when the first responders went to help, they got bit and taken by the virus as well. I looked away, noticing the colonel looked as though he had just woken up himself. I then looked away again, back at the city, knowing we were almost there. The vehicle turned to a side road, labeled as the path to the airport. The engine hummed as we approached the airport. Immediately, we noticed the airport was quiet…eerily quiet. Eventually, we reached the front of the airport, and the vehicle came to a stop. We hopped out, clutching our weapons tight. We walked in, noticing the lights were out and the place was trashed. We glanced at each other, before walking forward. Suddenly, we heard a noise. The noise of a zombie. We all looked around as zombies began to come out and swarm us. I heard the colonel shot and heard myself scream as we jumped into action. We fought, the sounds of the zombies intermingling with the sounds of gunshots. I watched in horror as the colonel was taken down by a massive horde of zombies, disappearing underneath them. “NO!” I screamed, running towards the terminals. I was alone, alone with a horde of zombies after me. I had lost track of Blake, I had lost track of where anything was. I just had to survive.
Soon I heard the sound of a plane powering up. I sprinted towards it, losing the zombies. I ran towards the plane sound, giving everything I got. Soon, I made it out to a runway, where an airforce soldier was standing there. I rushed to him. “Hurry! Orlando is overrun! This is our last flight out of here!” he said.
“My…my,” I said shakily, not even knowing what to classify them as. We had barley spoken, only known each other for a few days, yet were willing to defend each other for anything.
“You’ve got people in there kid?” the solder asked.
I nodded. “I’ll give them five minutes,” he said, going to finish preparations for the flight.”
I paused for a moment, catching my breath. It was silent again, minus the sound of the plane and my own breathing and heartbeat. I exhaled again, pleading that Blake would make it out, make it without succumbing to the virus. Eventually, a figure approached the entryway. I held my breath. Out came a zombie…that looked exactly like Blake. “No…” I said, my world spinning. I had left him, and now he was gone. And I was going to have to take him out in order to make it out of Orlando with my life. I raised my gun, ready to shoot, my hands shaking. “I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. I had only known him for a few days…but he had been willing to help me despite having his own goals. He drove all the way to this airport for me.

I closed my eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

My finger began to move.

Suddenly, something in me snapped, and I chucked the gun at Blake with my full force. It didn’t kill him, but it was enough to knock him to the ground as I boarded the plane. I shut the door. “Go…” I said to the pilot, who nodded, leading the plane down the runway to take flight. I sat in a plane seat, numb to the world. Grabbing my journal, I began to write again.

Day 12
I lost them. They’re gone. It’s not fair. Why did I survive and they didn’t? Maybe there’s still hope. Perhaps we’ll find a cure and save them. Maybe one day, we’ll even meet again, as humans. Maybe…

A single tear fell on my page, as the plane engines roared. We soared over Orlando, going to a place. The future was uncertain. As the sun set, I drifted to sleep again…numb to the world.


Part 4: Editing

Authors note: I could only submit the introduction due to word count. So I only really edited the introduction. I'm still open for critique, and will probably tweak this story even after camp. I really liked this story and hope you all did too

The house I was staying in was filled with an eerie sort of silence. The night was falling over the small town I was in, and I could hear zombie noises coming outside. I wasn’t worried though, as I had barricaded the house enough they wouldn’t be able to get in. Even if they did, I had my weapons. Grabbing a can of tomato soup, I downed it like it was a Mountain Dew. I sighed after finishing the cold and lonely meal, reaching for my journal in the light of my lantern. I had always kept a journal, willing to document my life. However, I only had time to grab one from my house before I left. I could have grabbed an old one, but I didn’t. Those happy memories were gone, filled with the shallow remains of my new life. Instead, I had a notebook, empty minus the few pages I had written in, documenting my new life out in the ruins of the apocalypse. As I was flipping to an empty page, the first entry caught my attention. I pushed a strand of black hair out of my face, reading it.

Day 1
Here I am, alone. Alone in a world full of former humans, who want nothing but my blood. Today was an eventful day. I went to school like normal, despite the CDC’s warnings of a potential disease that could be spreading. Around mid-day, things went sour. An alarm went off at lunch. A public service announcement popped up on the screen. “WARNING! ZOMBIE VIRUS DETECTED! BARRICADE YOURSELF IN YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR FUTURE INSTRUCTION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
Kids panicked, and I rushed home. All I found was my neighborhood already hit by the zombies, including my house and my parents. Luckily the zombies had moved on to find someone else to attack, so I had a moment to pack some stuff. I grabbed an empty backpack, putting a blanket, some canned goods, some bottled water, this empty journal, a few writing utensils, a picture of my family, and a flashlight. I also grabbed the family gun and a knife. Then I ran for my life. Eventually, I found a small house in the middle of nowhere, whose owners looked as though they had evacuated in a rush. I barricaded myself inside, beginning my first day alone surviving a zombie apocalypse.


After rereading my first journal entry, I wrote a small bit about today, before shutting my journal and shoving it in my backpack. I hopped on the couch, turning out my lantern, before getting some sleep.

After waking up from my slumber, I noticed the sun was already peeking through the trees surrounding the house I was currently sheltering in. I checked my supply of food. I was quickly running out, and that worried me. Then the TV turned on. On it was a military general, making an announcement to the survivors.

“Hello, survivors of America. We bring you the news of a plan we are putting into place to keep as many people alive as possible. Recently, we discovered that the zombie virus, and the zombies, can’t survive in cold temperatures. Using this to our advantage, we request all survivors make it down to the closest airport before the end of the month. We will have military servicemen located at all of the airports and will make flights to Alaska until the end of the month. There we will focus on finding a cure for the virus and rebuilding humanity as a whole. We await your arrival. Until then, stay safe, and good luck.”

The TV flickered off. I quickly searched the house, trying to find a map to tell me where the nearest airport was. Eventually, I found a map. I located where I was, and found the closest airport was in Orlando, Florida, and was around 90 miles away from my current location. I bit my lip, checking the calendar. It was, if my calculations were correct, the 18th of March. It would take too long and would be too dangerous to go on foot. I had to figure something out. I began to stuff my backpack with my remaining supplies, as well as any supplies I found around the house. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbing my weapons, before carefully walking outside. Outside, I noticed a small garage just off the side of the house. Walking to it, I noticed it was locked. However, there was a window on the side, and I was able to smash it, and I climbed inside. Inside was a small car. I grinned, knowing this was the perfect way out. I unlocked the garage door from the inside, and after a quick glance around the garage, I found the keys to the car. Throwing my stuff inside, I noticed the gas was at ¾’s of a tank. “Hmmm…” I said out loud, to myself, before spotting a bright red gas can. It was around half full, but it would work. I placed the gas can in the back, and hopped into the car, igniting the engine. I put it into drive, hit the gas, and was off down the small gravel road snaking its way from the house to a main road.
My driving was far from perfect. I was only 15 and only had a small bit of behind-the-wheel experience. “I miss you dad…” I whispered, remembering the vast plans of driving practice we were going to have. I still swerved a bit, bumping down the gravel road, but I knew enough to drive. Eventually, I arrived at the main road, which was an eerie sort of empty, minus a few wrecked cars and a few zombies roaming around. I hit the gas, driving down the highway, maneuvering around the wrecks and the zombies, and soon cruising at around 50 miles per hour down the highway. After a few hours, I noticed a military base on the edge of the highway. I decided to stop there, grab some supplies, and go from there.
As I pulled into the military base, I noticed it was an eerie sort of quiet. The base had been evacuated, but the wreckage of a helicopter was still on fire, presumably from when a zombie had overtaken the crew flying the copter. I pulled my car next to an empty helicopter pad, near the main base building, and hopped out, grabbing my stuff. I clutched my gun tight in my hand, in case a zombie were to jump out at me. I made it into the main building with no issues and quickly scanned my surroundings. There were signs of a battle, but no human or zombie was currently taking refuge in the building. I sat down, and dug through my backpack, grabbing some food and a bit of water. I downed it, staring at a digital clock above the door, which told me it was 6 p.m.
Soon, I grabbed my journal and began to write. As I was writing, I heard the noise of gunshots and zombies outside. I rose, rushing to the window. There, I saw a boy, just over 18 running away from a small horde of zombies, taking them down with ease. He rushed inside, not even noticing me, leaving the door as he began to scan the building. I shut the door behind him, so no zombie could make their way inside. At the sound of the door closing, he spun around, pointing his gun at me. I froze. “Don’t worry, I’m good. I’m human.” I said, trying to reassure him.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning me, but soon decided I wasn’t worth his time. He finished his search of the building, before laying down on a nearby chair and falling asleep. I sighed, finishing my journal entry, before falling asleep myself.

Waking up, I looked around groggily, seeing the clock read 7:13 A.M. The soldier was awake, and was scanning the base through the base. I walked quietly over to him. “Hello,” I said, quietly.
He looked over to me, his dark brown eye studying me. I paused, hesitating for a bit, before saying, “What’s your name?”
“Private Miller,” He said, “Private Blake Miller. Yours?”
“Hazel. Hazel Stegeman,” I replied.
He nodded, absorbing this information. “How’d you get here, Hazel?”
I sigh. “Well, I was at school. I’m…I mean…I was only a sophomore…I turn 16 in May. We were told to go home and hide in the middle of the day. When I got home, everyone in my neighborhood was already turned… I didn’t see my parents, but the house looked… disturbed. I just gathered a few things and ran. I don’t have any family besides my parents, so I’m unsure if I even have anyone left. I’m just trying to get to the airport and go from there.”
He nodded. “I joined the military. My troop was sent to defend a town, but we were overwhelmed. I’m the only one left. I’m trying to rejoin a troop. I don’t even know how my family is doing.” he said, his voice sharing no emotion.
I nod, silence filling the room once more. I look down, a little awkward, before taking a breath. “Well, I think I’m going to search the base for supplies real fast. Then I’m going to resume my journey to the airport,” I said, grabbing my backpack. He nodded, presumably going to do the same, as he walked out of the main building. I followed, but spilled up, going towards a building that looked like a storage building. It had a small lock on it, which after a few seconds of work, I managed to break through. Inside, there were a few zombies which were easily downed. “I’m sorry…” I breathed, but I knew it was me or them. I managed to get some more food, as well as a slightly better gun and some ammo for it. Wandering out, I pondered whether I should use the car I borrowed from the house I had previously stayed in or if I should attempt to find a different, better vehicle. My question was answered when Blake drove over to me in one of those army vehicles that could fit a lot of soldiers in it. He didn’t say anything but motioned for me to hop into the back. I nodded, throwing my stuff in the back, before remembering my gas can in the car. I grabbed it, and jumped into the back, and relished the wind blowing through my hair as we drove out of the military base, picking up speed. I noticed on the sign that it said 70 miles to Orlando. “We’ll make it,” I whispered to myself. Soon, I drifted to sleep as we drove down the highway.
There I was, just a young kid, playing with the neighborhood kids, cheering as my team scored the winning point in our tiny soccer game. The same neighborhood was there as my father helped me down the street on a bicycle I had received as a birthday gift. The neighborhood didn’t change as I grew older, waiting for a yellow school bus to pick me up for my first day of middle school. Again, I was older, driving my car with my dad in the passenger seat, rolling past the houses. Finally, I watched myself as I ran past burning houses, houses barricaded quickly with wooden planks. I heard zombies behind me, as I ran and ran, trying to get away. I screamed tripping, the world spinning out of focus, as we came to a complete…

Stop.

I woke with a start, my dream turned nightmare putting me on high alert. The vehicle was stopped and a couple of zombies were approaching. We were in a small town. I jumped to my feet, my gun in my hands, as I looked for Blake. “We’re out of gas!” he yelled.
“Gas can!” I replied, grabbing my red thing of gas and handing it to him.
He nodded. “Defend me,” he ordered, going to fill up the vehicle. I jumped out of the vehicle, shooting into the horde, pleading that I could hold them off long enough to get out to safety. Suddenly, another figure rushed over, taking out the remainder of the horde. I look up at the newcomer and see it is a grown man, dressed in another military uniform. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Hazel. You?” came my reply.
“Colonel Tom Johnson. Where are you headed?” he asked.
“Orlando Airport,” I replied.
“Figured. Listen, the government says the last plane leaves on the 25th now, the horde has grown, and we are losing a ton of men. I was heading there too, I just got stuck in this town because my vehicle broke down.” he replied.
“You can come with us, Sir,” Blake said, holding a now-empty gas can. “There’s room in the back.”
The colonel nodded. “Thank you Private,” he said, noting his badge. “I shall take you up on this offer.”
We all returned to the vehicle, and Blake put the gas can next to me. He hopped into the driver’s seat, as the colonel hopped in across the car from me. We began to ride away, dodging a few zombies. Leaving the small town, the miles left to Orlando was 50. As we drove down the highway, I grabbed my journal and began to write.

Day 11
I’m currently in a vehicle with two army people, both older than me. Neither of them talks much, only when it’s important. I think they are just as nervous around me as I am around them. I’m heading for Orlando like I was yesterday. I’m getting closer as we speak but now I’m worried that we won’t make it before the military pulls out. Apparently, it’s getting worse. A lot worse. The fact I’ve only found two survivors in the variety of towns I’ve been through proves that. I don't know how I’m still going. I’m only 15, and I’ve been alone since the beginning. Now I’m with a soldier and a colonel. I think I may make it. I think we may make it. If anyone was to make it though, it would be the other two. I’m scared I’m only going to weigh them down. I just hope we can make it through…what do you do when there's nothing left to live for in the zombie apocalypse?

I closed my notebook, sliding it into my bag. My photo caught my eye. The only memnto of my old life. I stared at it, deep in thought. Maybe one day I would make it back to my old house, to collect my old journals, my old photos. Maybe my parents were still out there, alive, looking for me. Maybe they thought I had been turned and given up hope. I was unsure. I looked up at the colonel. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, perhaps about his own family, or maybe about the whole zombie situation. I didn’t know. I just looked into the distance, letting the sound of the wind carry my thoughts away to the distance.

I woke up, yawning. Looking around groggily, I noticed a city rising up in the distance. Off the side of the road, I noticed a small building with the wreckage of a plane in it, as well as a horde of zombies with the outfits of police officers and firefighters, and several emergency vehicles nearby. I cringed, knowing the virus probably got the plane, and when the first responders went to help, they got bit and taken by the virus as well. I looked away, noticing the colonel looked as though he had just woken up himself. I then looked away again, back at the city, knowing we were almost there. The vehicle turned to a side road, labeled as the path to the airport. The engine hummed as we approached the airport. Immediately, we noticed the airport was quiet…eerily quiet. Eventually, we reached the front of the airport, and the vehicle came to a stop. We hopped out, clutching our weapons tight. We walked in, noticing the lights were out and the place was trashed. We glanced at each other, before walking forward. Suddenly, we heard a noise. The noise of a zombie. We all looked around as zombies began to come out and swarm us. I heard the colonel shot and heard myself scream as we jumped into action. We fought, the sounds of the zombies intermingling with the sounds of gunshots. I watched in horror as the colonel was taken down by a massive horde of zombies, disappearing underneath them. “NO!” I screamed, running towards the terminals. I was alone, alone with a horde of zombies after me. I had lost track of Blake, I had lost track of where anything was. I just had to survive.
Soon I heard the sound of a plane powering up. I sprinted towards it, losing the zombies. I ran towards the plane sound, giving everything I got. Soon, I made it out to a runway, where an airforce soldier was standing there. I rushed to him. “Hurry! Orlando is overrun! This is our last flight out of here!” he said.
“My…my,” I said shakily, not even knowing what to classify them as. We had barley spoken, only known each other for a few days, yet were willing to defend each other for anything.
“You’ve got people in there kid?” the solder asked.
I nodded. “I’ll give them five minutes,” he said, going to finish preparations for the flight.”
I paused for a moment, catching my breath. It was silent again, minus the sound of the plane and my own breathing and heartbeat. I exhaled again, pleading that Blake would make it out, make it without succumbing to the virus. Eventually, a figure approached the entryway. I held my breath. Out came a zombie…that looked exactly like Blake. “No…” I said, my world spinning. I had left him, and now he was gone. And I was going to have to take him out in order to make it out of Orlando with my life. I raised my gun, ready to shoot, my hands shaking. “I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. I had only known him for a few days…but he had been willing to help me despite having his own goals. He drove all the way to this airport for me.

I closed my eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

My finger began to move.

Suddenly, something in me snapped, and I chucked the gun at Blake with my full force. It didn’t kill him, but it was enough to knock him to the ground as I boarded the plane. I shut the door. “Go…” I said to the pilot, who nodded, leading the plane down the runway to take flight. I sat in a plane seat, numb to the world. Grabbing my journal, I began to write again.

Day 12
I lost them. They’re gone. It’s not fair. Why did I survive and they didn’t? Maybe there’s still hope. Perhaps we’ll find a cure and save them. Maybe one day, we’ll even meet again, as humans. Maybe…

A single tear fell on my page, as the plane engines roared. We soared over Orlando, going to a place. The future was uncertain. As the sun set, I drifted to sleep again…numb to the world.

They are a GDPR account. In other words, a user that chose to have their account data deleted under the GDPR (an EU regulation about data privacy). The original identity of the account is unknown, and the join date is set to a false date to hide what their actual join date was.

I'm trying to make a rng game, inspired by Sol's rng. I have ideas of other mechanics, but I do not understand how to add a luck multiplier to your rolls.

https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/990420024/

I know I'm unable to use them, but if I were to remix/backpack a project with cloud variables would they still work inside of my project, and allow other users to use them (with the correct rank)?

--Irrelevant wrote:

Hmmm..

if <touching [edge] ?> then
broadcast [touching edge]
end

when I receive [touching edge]
hide

Don’t forget to add a forever block to make sure that it always repeats. If u don’t it will last for the time it takes to do this ONCE.

Some are normal users, others are bots for the sole purpose of getting a name snipe.

Most likely they're just normal users who wanted a namesnipe as bots aren't allowed and there's a captcha that usually prevents said bots when creating an account.

Its usually people that either joined long ago and didn't have a good interest in Scratch, or individuals that wanted a namesnipe.
i'm actually a namesnipe lol /offtopic

Hi Ya'll, I have a new animation coming soon called "watch this for your safety', it should be coming in a few weeks! It is going to be 4 minutes and 38 seconds long! I know the time because it is basically a music video! Also, try to find out what song I'm using! I will post about it once again I finish it! See ya! Preview Here!: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/991998928/

Illumilimbs wrote:

7salad3salad wrote:

randomguy3513 wrote:

Currently making my nation rn, not sharing cords until its done. Still thinking about the name. It will be underground though.

you probably shouldnt share the coords in general

probably not a smart idea

I mean griefing and stealing is super illegal/bannable

medians wrote:

1. That would be a 2 block workaround though because it involves 2 blocks.
2. That's also in 2.0.. and what if you changed the x/y pos? Edit: Do you mean last or current?
3. You didn't have that method though in the post I quoted, so yea..

1. I'm still gonna think of it as an one block workaround, as adding in the block will still require one block.
2. I meant current, but that isn't a problem with the other workaround
3. :shrug:

ItBeJC wrote:

kanomaster wrote:

[-snip-

I mean there might be a transitions on/off toggle
Cuz some people might have slower computers

So what I'll make the menu include:

Music *Volume Slider*
Sound Effects *Volume Slider*
Filled Square Color *Color Picker*
Empty Square Color *Color Picker*
Transitions *On/Off Switch*

Don't have an option for transitions, I'd have to do a lot of changes to make it flow without transitions. (I'm using a fade to cover up all the loading processes. All the other settings are cool. I think that the volume slider should be an actual slider (not a sliding variable) just to make it look nice. When do you think you'll have this done?

Stegie1234 wrote:

jvvg wrote:

That is not allowed. However, give it a bit longer, it may take a bit to handle your report. If it still isn't gone or otherwise dealt with after a few days, consider using Contact Us to explain the situation.

I reported the project about a week ago, does it typically take longer than that for the Scratch Team to handle a report?

I really don't know. See this thread for a related discussion.

I get a lot of studio invites, but only see studio activity messages once every couple weeks. why?

They often are either people who are just trying to cause disruption either out of anger or simply out of a desire to be disruptive (sadly a lot of people want to cause disruption just for the sake of it). Griffpatch would be a popular target simply due to being the most well-known Scratcher.

depresso-boiyo wrote:

ACTIVITY CHECK

All employes please quote this check and respond “active” to avoid being given a strike, exemptions include employees on leave who have filled out the form.

You have one week to respond.

Also bumping

I could've sworn I responded to this
But I could've seen it and closed the tab?
Anyways I'm here.