ocular rewritten

TC:: CAMPER IN THE UNDERGROUND CAVERNS

Weeklies::
Weekly 1: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7205793
Weekly 2: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/683861/?page=1#post-7224971
Weekly 3:
Weekly 4:

Dailies::
Daily 1: Wacky wednesdays - turned my pfp upside down xD
Daily 2:

SIC:: Co-Leader of Mirabilis

Activity Thread:: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/688770/?page=1#post-7285162
Proof Posts::

SWC JULY 2023:: Adventure Camper
Daily July 2:: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7354869
Act 1: Polyphemus:: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7356172

SWC NOVEMBER 2023:: Steampunk Camper
(links on this post) https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7620470

Weekly 1::

Part 1::
1) two birds by Regina Spektor
2) Beautiful Life by bebe rexa
3) Lost Boy by Ruth B
4) Immortals by Fall Out Boy
5) Believer by Imagine Dragons
6) Fix You by Coldplay
7) Camilo's Interlude (xD) by Laureli Amadeus
8) Warrior of the Mind by Jorge Rivera-Herrans
9) Legendary by Jorge Rivera-Herrans
10) Perfect by Ed Sheeran

Part 2::

1. Write as if you are in the perspective of the person singing. 306/200 words

I’m walking down the road, forcing myself not to look back. I look up instead, spotting two birds sitting on a wire. One takes off, flies in a circle, and comes back to the other. Two birds on a wire… I hum a melody as I watch them. Anything to distract myself. Two birds on a wire… I hum the notes again. One tries to fly away and the other…. The brave bird tweets, and the other replies, shifting as though it’ll fly. The brave bird takes off once more, but the other shrinks back again. Two birds on a wire… I hum the notes again. One tries to fly away and the other watches him close from that wire, says he wants to as well but he’s just a liar… I shake my head. Why does everything come back to what I really don’t want to think about. I try to focus on the birds, let all the other thoughts disappear. The brave bird snuggles close to the other, as though reassuring it. The other bird tweets, and he responds. I’ll believe it all… He seems to say. There’s nothing I won’t understand…. I shake my head again, so annoyed. Why does this breakup keep invading my thoughts? I don’t want to think about him, and I don’t want to think about that stupid conversation!! The bird flies up again, tweets, and the other replies from the wire, then glances towards the sky. Two birds on a wire, I hum. One says come on, and the other says I’m tired. The sky’s overcast and I’m sorry, one more or one less, nobody’s worried. I sigh and keep walking. I’m staring at birds.

But when I get home I can’t stop thinking about them. So I pull out my notebook and jot down the iffy lyrics I was making up, plunk the melody into the keyboard. Next time I glance up at the clock I can’t believe how long it’s been.

The next morning I lift my head, looking at my still on screen. A file is waiting to be played. I hit play, and listen to a recording, of my voice and instrumental that I must have done last night.

Two birds of a feather, say that they’re always gonna stay together.
But one’s never going to let go of that wire.
He says that he will.
But he’s just a liar.

I’m surprised at how good it sounds, building to a crescendo, and then taking my breath away with the ending.

Two birds on a wire.
One tries to fly away
And the other…

(ALL RIGHTS TO THE ARTIST FOR THE LYRICS THESE ARE NOT MINE I TAKE NO CREDIT PLS DON'T SUE ME xD)

2. Write about the meaning/message of the piece. Is it trying to show hope, or love, or tragedy? Why? How can you prove this in the music? Think dEeP like you're in English class- what's the tHeMe? If you have a classical piece this is too hard for, think about the mood of the song and how you know that - ex. “In the part of the song where it gets really low and fast, it's really angry at something.” For all of your music (classical or whatever else,) if there's a title of the song, how is it portrayed in the music? Write at least 200 words.

4. Compare and contrast! Write down five songs that are very similar to the one you chose, and 5 that are like the opposite of your song. Now, write 100+ words on why the similar songs are similar, and 100 words on why the contrasting songs are different.

Random word story. These are my five words::
mastermind
convince
exercise
resource
element

“How are we supposed to beat him? He’s a literal evil mastermind!” Luna yelled, throwing up her hands.
“Calm down,” I said, not sure how I’d convince her we could do this when I couldn’t convince myself. “If we just make a good plan and exercise caution we can–”
“Get ourselves caught. And caged. And-And-” Her face has turned bright red and she has to take a breath between words.
“Stop it. STOP FIGHTING!!” __ suddenly yelled, tears in her eyes. “Please! I just want to save him!!!”
We both looked away. Who knew what was happening to him there? She was right. We had to get him out.
“So what’s the plan? We’ve got no resources, and we’re completely out of our element.” Luna said, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“The plan… the plan is that we bring him to our element. Draw him out.”
“That’ll never work. He’s too cautious.”
“But what if we….”

Okay yeah this makes no sense but yeah basically these are three kids talking to each other and their friend has been uh captured by an evil mastermind (?) lol part of a story idea I'm working on. Also completely random fact:: they're all cryptids and Luna is half werewolf. 156 words.

Lily's SIC Playlist::

- “Beautiful Life” (Abominable Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Bebe Rexa
- “Lost Boy” by Ruth B.
- “Immortals” by Fall Out Boy
- “Two Birds” by Regina Spektor
- “Fix You” by Coldplay
- “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans
- “Edge of Night (pippin's song)” by Billy Boyd
- “Ready as I'll Ever Be” From Tangled the Series
- “Dragon” by Built by Titan

- any songs from The Lightning Thief: Percy Jackson the Musical, But specifically “Tree on the Hill,” “the Day I got Expelled” “The Campfire Song” and “My Grand Plan”… these don't make much sense out of context so I'd suggest listening to all of the songs in order or just watching the musical.
- any disney songs lol

lol these are like really random I have a very weird taste in music but anywayss…..

What I listen to::
- Disney Songs
- The Lightning Theif
- Epic the Musical
- Songs my older sister listened to so I heard them and liked them
- Country Songs that my Mom likes
- Songs my friend suggested
- Random songs I find on the internet (mostly animatics on youtube)

Ughhhh I'm realizing that a lot of songs and musicals I like have some minor swearing/v!olence in them and I wanna put them on here but I know that it needs to be appropriate so I'm not gonna

SWC JULY 2023:: Daily June 2

Words::
- Ensnare
- Apocalyptic/Apocalypse
- Sabotage
- Lagoon
- Cryptozoologist

I stare out the window at the lagoon, wishing that I could go down there. Mom says I can’t today because of some dumb cryptozoologist who’s poking around, asking about sightings and legends and stuff. I don’t care about him, but I do want to keep Silvie safe. Ugh, I miss her so much though. Sucks that my only friend is a… what’s that weird term… “cryptozoological entity.” Or something. She’s just a selkie, it’s not that weird. Well, how about this, I’ll go down to the lagoon and just be reaaaalllllllyyyyyyy careful, right? I mean, it’s not gonna cause an apocalypse if this one guy sees me anyways, as long as no one else sees. Plus, I’m super careful!

I slip into my swimsuit and run down to the beach. I don’t use the path, because mom’s probably set up a garden spell to ensnare me if I try to escape that way. Kinda sucks when your mom’s a garden witch, but I know how to get past her. I dart down to the lagoon and jump into the water. I’m met by a seal almost immediately as I hop up on the rock that’s shielded from the bay. Silvie slides up and transforms to join me, her sealskin dress and black hair dripping.
“Hiiii! You’re late!” She exclaims.
“Yeah, there’s some cryptozoologist poking around. Mom didn’t want me to come down,” I reply, rolling my eyes.
“Those guys are really annoying.”
“OOoo you know what, we should sabotage him!!”
“How?” Silvie asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Ugh, I don’t know… It’d just be fun,”
“Yeah, but your mom would probably be mad, and what if he saw me?” She asks.
I laugh, “You always have to be the logical one, don’t you?”
“Yup, saved your sorry face a LOT,” she says with a grin.
“Too true, too true,” I say and she splashes me.
“Now are we gonna go swimming or not?” She asks.
“Of course!” I say, and we slip off the rock and into the lagoon.

So yeah, I feel okay with it and like it could be a cute story. I don't think that I'd continue it though since I have ideas that I'm prioritizing rn.

Polyphemus - villain or misunderstood hero?

People have believed for many years that the story of Polyphemus and Odysseus in the
Odyssey is simple - handsome, intelligent hero defeats dumb, ugly monster. However, that may not be the case for three reasons: odysseus was trespassing and stealing, so polyphemus had a right to defend his property; polyphemus is a cyclops, thus considered a “monster” so he could easily assume that this hero was going to try to kill him and that he needed to protect himself; and he may have been trying to prove himself to the other cyclops or trying to protect something.

Firstly, Odysseus was at fault. It is widely known that in the Odyssey Odysseus comes to Polyphemus’ island, tresspasses into his cave, and then steals food and sheep without asking who the owner of any of it is. Polyphemus returns to find strangers in his home taking his belongings, and while his response may not seem completely appropriate, it wasn’t without provocation. Many people seem to believe that Polyphemus simply attacked them because he’s a cyclops, but Odysseus was actually the one to provoke the attack. Perhaps if Oddysseus had simply waited for Polyphemus to return, and then asked for the supplies he needed, the story could have gone a lot differently.

Secondly, Polyphemus could have been acting out of self defense. Polyphemus is a cyclops, son of the sea god Poisedon and the sea nymph Thoosa. That makes him a “monster” in ancient greece. Monsters were regularly attacked and killed by heroes seeking fame, and polyphemus may have known cyclopes killed by heroes or been attacked himself in the past, so upon meeting Odysseus, it is easy to see how he would feel threatened and like he needed to protect himself. He would have had no idea what this man would do and then perhaps he decided to simply make the first move to protect himself. However, instead of killing them all he was convinced by Odysseus to wait and eat them one at a time, letting Odysseus have the chance to stab him in the eye and trick him into letting them escape. We will probably never know what may have happened if there wasn’t the existing enmity between their two species.

Lastly, Polyphemus may have been trying to prove himself to his fellow cyclops or may have been protecting something. At the end of the story some other cyclopes come to see why polyphemus is hurt, but since odysseus told him that his name was Nobody, the other cyclops think that Polyphemus is being afflicted by the gods or otherwise, so they will not help him. Polyphemus may have been younger than the others, and in killing the heroes hoping to prove himself to them or he may have wanted to prove himself for another reason. In a book called “The sea of monsters” partially based on greek mythology, Polyphemus has acquired the golden fleece and is trying to stop anyone from stealing it. Who’s to say that it isn’t a similar case in the odyssey? That Polyphemus had nothing worth protecting from the heroes that came to his shores. It could have been anything between a magical artifact, himself, his property, his home, or even other cyclops. Maybe he even had a child he wanted to protect.

In conclusion, it is most likely that no one will ever know the true intentions of the characters of the Odyssey - history is always written by the victors, after all. But it seems that it’s perfectly plausible that Polyphemus may not have been the villain he’s made out to be - or that Odysseus is the hero so many people love.

613 words!

Twists:: The world changes colors depending on the emotions in that area // Everyone is a cat.
Media: “Open Arms” by Jorge Rivera Herrans, also partially based on the animatic by mɪrtʃi on youtube for like what they're doing
1500 words

——————
A SWC BI-FI FANFIC OF “OPEN ARMS” BY JORGE RIVERA HERRANS

Odysseus and I walk through the jungle, and he pushes past a fern. My ears flick back and forth to capture all the strange sounds that surround us. The air feels humid and tense. I can see the world tinging blue with Odysseus’ anxiety, and his ears are flicking around, hairs raised on his neck. He’s nervous and failing to hide it.
“You can relax, my friend,” I say, coming up beside him and bumping him with my shoulder.
“What?” He says, giving me a sideways look with his bright green eyes. I flick my tail back and forth as I pad in front of him to look him in the eyes.
“I can tell you’re getting nervous, so do yourself a service, and please, try to relax!” I tell him. He rolls his eyes at me. I can see the world turning red-orange with his annoyance. Well, too bad!
“I’m fine, Polites!” He says, pushing me away with his paw with a growl and an angry tail flick. I roll my eyes right back at him. I’ve known him too long for him to fool me, I mean we’ve spent ten years fighting this war together!
“Think of everything we’ve been through! Stop worrying, I know we’re gonna survive what we get into!” I start running through the forest, which turns yellow with my… excitement?
“H-heyy!” He yells, “Come back!”

I stop in the middle of a log crossing a river, laughing. I grin, flicking my tail back and forth. He skids to a stop just in front of it, claws extended, shaking a little. Indigo fear is tinging his surroundings.
“I know that you’re tired of all the war and bloodshed, tell me is this how we’re supposed to live?” I ask him, prancing backwards, grinning at the yellow colour. Yellow makes me happy, and being happy makes it yellow. It’s the perfect cycle!
“Polites–” he starts.
“Look at how you’re ready to fight, you’re claws out, ears back…” I shake my head and grin again. Can’t let the blue in. Gotta stay yellow. “Enough said! Why should we take when we can give??”
I ran forward, pulling him out onto the log. He immediately slips with a surprised hiss and I grab him. He digs his claws into the wood, our combined fear tinting the world dark purple.
“You can show a person that you trust them when you stop and lower your guard,” I continue with a wink, as if nothing had happened. Trying to pretend nothing happened. Trying to keep the yellow. “Here we have a chance to change how you think! Give it a try, it’s not that hard!!” I shout, looking down.
“Polites!” He warns, the purple spiking, just before I push us both off the log. Whistling past us, the wind fills my ears and whips away whatever Odysseus tried to angrily yell at me… or his screaming. We land with a splash in the water and I’m immediately soaked through. Odysseus’ combined anger, fear, and annoyance are turning the world red and violet. In hindsight, that was probably a bad idea… Now he’s mad at me. I gotta smooth things over, but… point proven!! I climb out and pull him up the bank.

“I’m telling you…” I say as we break into a clearing, and I leave him behind, wet and sulking in his blue while I dance forward, pushing into the bright yellow and marveling in the sun and the grass and the peace, without the sounds and sights of the battlefield.
“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms!” I tell him as I prance back, to see him slashing fearfully at a butterfly. “Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!” I jump between them and the butterfly lands on my nose. I give Odysseus a knowing smile and push my nose up so that the butterfly soars away.
“No matter the place, we can light up the world,” I say, staring after it in a pool of pink, then turn back to Odysseus and his purple-red-blue cloud of anxiety and anger. “Here’s how to start…” I tell him, gently putting my paws on top of his, hoping to will some peace into him. I press my forehead to his, and he relaxes.
“Greet the world with open paws, greet the world with open paws!!” I say, spreading my paws out, and grinning in the bright yellow. Odysseus hints at a smile, even if it’s just at my “naiveness” or “sillyness”
“Welcome,” a menacing voice whispers, and the world turns deep purple.

Odysseus spins around, slashing the air in front of him, ears back and tail thrashing. Dark shapes with glinting eyes surround us.
“Stay back!” Odysseus yells, ready to attack, shoulders shaking and fur standing on end. I’m scared too but… we’re never going to get anywhere like this.
“Odysseus…” I say, turning to press my paw to his shoulder, “Greet the world with open paws.”
He doesn’t relax, but at least he doesn’t attack.
“We’re only here for food,” he says, warily. Watching.
“Food…” one of them echoes, and Odysseus spins towards it with a soft hiss.
“Six hundred of our friends are waiting for us to come back!” He says, wary and angry. His emotions tinging the world deep shades of purple, red, and blue. I’ve seen too much of these colours lately. One steps forward, and Odysseus spins again, so that we’re back to back. I press my side against his.
“Stay back, I’m warning you!” he yells, ears back. He seems angry, but the overpowering purple betrays his fear. Or maybe it’s my fear changing the shades of our surroundings.
“If we don’t get back safely, my friends will turn this place into blazes! They’ll set it all-”
“Here you go!” The strangers say, holding up a bowl of strange fruit. Bright green shock and confusion are overpowered by the yellow of my happiness at seeing real fresh fruit.
“SEE?” I tell Odysseus, grinning as I grab one and start prancing between the strangers, waving my tail high in the air as I call back to him “This life is amazing, when you greet it with open paws!” I continue forward, ignoring him as I revel in the bright, golden yellows and oranges of my excitement.
“Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!” I yell at no one and everyone. “No matter where we are, we’ll light up the world. Here's how to start: greet the world with open paws,” I say as I slow down. “Greet the world with open paws.”
I curl my tail around my paws as I prepare to take a bite of my fruit, when Odysseus grabs my paw and pulls me away from the strangers.
“Polites, I wish I could say that I agree with you… but look at the way this fruit is glowing and filled with glowing seeds!” He cracks open my fruit, worried purples spiking around us as he shows me.
“Yeah, so?” I try to ask, but he interrupts me.
“It took me a while to notice the type of fruit that they’re eating. It’s a Lotus, it’ll control your mind and never let you free.” He tells me, dropping it. “That’s what we’d get with open arms…” he mutters, padding away with tail down. I can’t tell if the war of colours in our surroundings are disappointment, anger at each other, or anger at ourselves. Arg, I have to fix this! I pad back to the strangers… I still don’t really think they mean us harm.

“Lotus eaters…” I start, not sure what else to call them. “I… I’d like to show my friend that kindness is brave. Can you tell us where there’s um… other food… to eat?” I finish hesitantly.
“A cave.” They saw in their kinda creepy way. I’m immediately reenergized.
“A CAVE!” I shout. “You’re saying there’s a cave where we can eat?” They nod and the surroundings’ colours lighten back to orange and yellow.
“And where do we sail to find this cave?” I ask them.
“East!” they reply.
“Thank you,” I whisper the world tinging pink with my joy and their kindness.
“Welcome!” They say, and I move away, back to stand beside Odysseus, my fur ruffling in the wind.
“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open paws…” I say, almost to myself, then glance at odysseus’ guilty expression. “I see in your face that there’s so much guilt inside your heart,” He looks surprised and attempts to school his expression. I turn to him with a soft smile.
“So why not replace it and light up the world… Here's how to start: Greet the world with open paws, greet the world with open paws.”
“Greet the world with open paws…” he murmurs.
“You can relax my friend,” I say.
————–

Between the dashed lines (——-) is 1500 words that I wrote. However, I based this peace off of the song “Open Arms,” so much of the dialogue is lines from the song, or edited lines. The dialogue lines below are copy pasted from the piece above, and they are the lines that are pretty much the actual lines in the song that were used, not the lines that were added or rephrased. They add up to 365 words.

You can relax, my friend,
I can tell you’re getting nervous, so do yourself a service, and try to relax
I’m fine, Polites
I know that you’re tired of the war and bloodshed, tell me is this how we’re supposed to live
“Enough said! Why should we take when we can give??”
“You can show a person that you trust them when you stop and lower your guard,”
Give it a try, it’s not that hard!!”
“I’m telling you…”
“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms!”
“Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!”
“No matter the place, we can light up the world,”
“Here’s how to start…”
“Greet the world with open , greet the world with open!!”
“Welcome!”
“Stay back!”
“Greet the world with ope.”
“We’re only here for food,”
“Food…”
“Stay back, I’m warning you!”
“If we don’t get back safely, my friends will turn this place into blazes!
“Here you go!”
“SEE?”
“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open!”
“Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!”
“No matter where we are, we’ll light up the world. Here's how to start: greet the world with open Greet the world with open.”
I wish I could say that I agree ….. but look at the way this fruit is glowing and filled with glowing seeds!”
“It took me a while to notice ….. It’s a Lotus, it’ll control your mind and never let you free. That’s what we’d get with open arms…”
“Lotus eaters, I’d like to show my friend that kindness is brave. Can you tell us where there’s other food to eat?”.
“A cave.”
“A CAVE!” “You’re saying there’s a cave where we can eat?” “And where do we sail to find this cave?”
“East!”
“Thank you,”
“Welcome!”
“This life is amazing, when you greet it with open … I see in your face that there’s so much guilt inside your heart, So why not replace it and light up the world… Here's how to start: Greet the world with open, greet the world with open.”
“Greet the world with open…”
“You can relax my friend,”

Painting smoothie
Our Painting Smoothies are smooth and colourful with many swirls of the different colours of the paintings used to create them. The colours make a pattern almost like how the beautiful paints look on paper. They have the many complimentary combined tastes of woodiness from the frame, paper or canvas, and the various paints, making a delicious mixture. It’s especially good when you add in glass chips for some of that extra good crunchy texture. It is easy to make and it comes in many flavours, including watercolour, acrylic, gouache, and multimedia, as well as Frame-Free, Glass-Free, All Natural and Vegan! You can also get the special versions including brushes and pallets for a limited time only. The Painting Smoothie Museum has just opened, and it is allowing everyone to enjoy these culinary masterpieces for free for the next year. Some conditions may apply. You too can become one of the many, many people who enjoy the variety and joy that these smoothies give to their consumers. Be the first to try out new flavours, sign up for smoothie testing today and earn a free raise! No one has ever said that they do not like painting smoothies, they are culinary masterpieces!!

204 words

How Long ~ an original song by @lilyjen

Yesterday, everything was fine.
We were together, having a great time.
Ice cream at the beach,
And happiness in my reach,
Nothing went wrong, and I was okay.
Just a perfect normal day.

But how long until the end. When I break will I still be your friend?

Cause, when the dam breaks, what will I say,
Can’t hurt you like I did the other day.
Hold it in, hold it back.
Don’t let anything slip through the cracks.

Today everything was okay,
Just us and the gang, everything went our way,
Swimming at the pool, then mcd’s for a meal,
Seems like it was the perfect deal
But I was so scared that I would explode,
It’s so hard to bear this load alone oooooh

How long until the end. When I break will I still be your friend?

Cause, when the dam breaks, what will I say,
I can’t hurt you like I did the other day.
Hold it in, hold it back.
Don’t let anything slip through the cracks.

But I’m so tired of hiding how I feel,
Feel like you know a me that’s not real
What would I say if I told you today?
Too scared to, afraid you’d run away…

But how long until the end. When I break will I still be your friend?

Tomorrow, everything might be great,
We could go out and we could stay up late,
Movies at the theater, popcorn and snacks,
Just having fun, no looking back,
But I’ve got so many emotions bottled up,
What if they escape and you decide that I’m to much?

OOoh how long until the end. When I break will I still be your friend?

Cause, when the dam breaks, what will I say, Can’t hurt you like I did the other day.
Hold it in, hold it back.
Don’t let anything slip through the cracks.

Hold it in, hold it back.
Don’t let anything slip through the cracks.

Okay this is…. interesting xD. Basically it's about a character who hides her emotions and is afraid that her friend won't like her anymore if he sees what an emotional and mental wreck she really is… technically they could be any gender but I think of them as the singer a girl and her friend a boy, and they're teenagers, but they aren't dating? random song backstory xD

Not autobiographical… tho I wish I had icecream yesterday :0

Critiquaire Piece:: a little context, this is part of a novel I'm writing. The character who's POV it's from is named Kay, she's a 13yo girl and the boy is Luca, an 11yo boy. They both have magical amulets that give them special powers - Kay's is purple and allows her to turn invisible so far, possibly also unable to hear/intangible, while Luca's is blue and gives him power over electricity. The are both on the run from an Organization called the Hand. Kay was betrayed by her best friend, Mica, so she doesn't want to trust anybody. Luca destroyed his whole village and everyone died when he wore his amulet for the first time, so he's basically terrified of it and himself now poor kiddo. This is their first meeting.
—————————–

The boy doesn’t know that I’m watching him. He’s sitting on the shore of the lake, crying. His arms are wrapped around his knees, which are pulled up to his chest, his head against them. Sobs wracked his skinny body. I guess he’s around nine or ten. He has spiky bright red hair and pale skin. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like him. I should move on. I don’t know why I’ve spent so long watching him. His problems aren’t my problems. But… for the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel something other than hate or fear or indifference to another human. I actually feel sympathy for him. His sobs finally begin to lessen, as if there aren’t any left. He wipes his eyes and stands up, something clenched in his left fist. He holds it over the water, his hand shaking. He slowly uncurls his clenched fingers, to reveal an electric blue stone with a silver chain. I inch closer. The stone begins to pulse slightly with a pale light. He stares at it. I move closer to get a better view, and the pulse grows brighter. I feel a warmth against my chest, and pull out my amulet. A dark purple gem on a silver chain. It’s pulsing too. I step forward again. I’m so startled by the sound of my foot on the gravel of the beach. He spins around. “Wh-Who’s there?” He asks shakily. He heard me! No one’s heard me for… I wonder if he can see me. I see my hand start to shimmer. And I realize he can see me. I’ll let him see me. I shimmer into view. He yelps and steps backwards, his electric blue eyes wide. He looks like a cornered animal.
“Stay back!” He yells, surprising me.
“Stay back, stay away from me!” He says, his voice breaking. He takes a step backwards into the water.
“Stay away, go away before-before-before-” his voice cracks. He stumbles backwards, his whole body shaking, with terror or exertion or cold I don’t know. He seems genuinely scared, though not of me.
“You have to get away before I - I- I- before it happens again!” He says. He’s clutching the amulet in his hand so hard his knuckles are white.
“Please! Please…” He whispers. He takes a step back. He’s waist deep in the water.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say.
“No it’s n-n-nottt! Go away before I hurt you too!”
“What?” I say. He takes another step backwards and disappears under the water. Drop off. Before I quite knew what I was doing I ran into the water and dived in after him. I grab his skinny wrist. I drag him up, and lay him, coughing, on the sand. Suddenly, a bright white glow appears. I look down to see our two amulets touching. They stop glowing.

—————————– Edited piece using Critiques from @legocookie6 +110 words

The boy doesn’t know that I’m watching him. He’s sitting on the shore of the lake, crying. His arms are wrapped around his knees, which are pulled up to his chest, his head laid on them. Sobs wrack his skinny body. I guess he’s around nine or ten. He has spiky bright red hair and pale skin. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like him. I should move on. I don’t know why I’ve spent so long watching him. His problems aren’t my problems. And I have plenty of problems. But… for the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel something other than hate or fear or indifference to another human. I actually feel sympathy for him.

His sobs finally begin to lessen, as if there aren’t any left. He wipes his eyes and stands up shakily, something clenched in his left fist. He holds it out over the water, his hand shaking as he slowly uncurls his clenched fingers to reveal an electric blue stone on a silver chain. I inch closer. The stone begins to pulse slightly with a pale light. He stares at it. I move closer again to get a better view, and the pulse grows brighter. I feel a warmth against my chest, and pull out my amulet. A dark purple gem on a silver chain. It’s pulsing too. I’ve never seen it do this before. I step forward again, out of the trees. I’m so startled by the sound of my foot on the gravel of the beach that I gasp, a soft woosh of escaping air. He spins around.
“Wh-Who’s there?” He asks shakily. He heard me! No one’s heard me for… I wonder if he can see me. I see my hand start to shimmer, realizing that he can see me. I’ll let him see me. I shimmer into view. He yelps and steps backwards, his electric blue eyes wide. He looks like a cornered animal.
“Stay back!” He yells, surprising me.
“Stay back, stay away from me!” He repeats, his voice breaking. He takes a step backwards into the water.
“Stay away, go away before-before-before-” his voice cracks. He stumbles backwards, his whole body shaking, with terror or exertion or cold I don’t know. He seems genuinely scared, though for some reason I get the feeling he isn’t afraid of me.
“You have to get away before I- I- I- before it happens again!” He says. He’s clutching the amulet in his hand so hard his knuckles are white.
“Please! Please…” He whispers. He takes a step back, now waist deep in the water.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say.
“No it’s n-n-nottt! Go away before I hurt you too!”
“What?” I ask, confused. How would he hurt me? He takes another step backwards and disappears under the water. Drop off.

Before I quite know what I’m doing I ran into the water and dove in after him. I barely notice the sudden freezing cold as I peer ahead of me through the clear, dark water, spotting a flash of white. I grab his skinny wrist and drag him up, out of the water to lay him, coughing, on the sand. He curls to his side and coughs up water as I kneel beside him, not sure what to do. I brush my wet hair out of my eyes as I watch his pale face. Suddenly, a bright white glow appears. I look down to see our two amulets connected. There’s a brighter flash, and they stop glowing.

Critiquaire for @legocookies6
Piece: A Canvas Stained Crimson, 675 words

First of all, omygosh this is actually so good like I want to read the rest of this novel. I love how you make the character so… relateable. Like I don't even know their name, gender, nothing, all I know is that they're a murderer and yet I still… like them? the magic of writing xD. I love the repeats, it definitely gives the vibes of someone holding onto their dreams but also perhaps their sanity, and then at the end it changes and i'm like, so sad for her… Idk why she's a girl, she just is in my mind xD. I'm going to go through it bit by bit like you did for mine btw.

The paintbrush sits untouched on the highest shelf above my desk. No matter how hard I try to forget its existence, my eyes always travel to that shelf before I leave my small, single-room apartment.
I know I should throw it away, as I have the rest of my dreams. But every time I want to, something inside of me makes my entire body freeze.

This is really good set up… I already feel like I'm starting to understand this character that lost their dreams. Very good at pulling the audience in with the first words, that's important to your story.

No matter how hard I try, a part of me still clings to my past self- clings to the hope that there’s still a chance I’ll one day fulfill my dreams.

For this the part “to my past self- clings to” seems a bit off, I was slightly confused when I read it the first time. Generally I would write it as “to my past self. Clings to” instead, but you can choose to use dashes as your style for this piece.

It’s stupid, I know. Someone who has fallen as low as I have has no hope of retribution. But I sometimes still like to imagine things were different.
I grab my knife from the desk, securing it in the sheath at my hip. I imagine it is a paintbrush dipping itself into a fresh jar of paint. As I leave my apartment, I stop to glance at the highest shelf- the paintbrush hidden in the shadows. I repeat a phrase several times in my head.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.

mmm now we're getting a bit more context. Their an assasin. But I also love the relatibility of them trying to imagine themselves somewhere else. And we get “the phrase” introduced!

Then, without another backward glance, I leave. The hallway is dim, the floorboards uneven. The plastered drywall cadet gray and cracked. I ignore all of this as I hurry through, barely breathing until I make it outside.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.
A cold gust of wind bites at my face as I take huge gulps of fresh air. I glance at the information from my client, projected from a small handheld device. The projection casts a robin-egg blue glow around me, breaking through the evening shadows.

Beautiful descriptions! I can picture the setting pretty well. And there's that repetition of “the phrase” again.

My target: an old man, sixty years of age. His hair is blanc de blanc and his eyes are Carolina blue. I know where I’ll find him.

I don't know what Blanc de blanc means but I assume blonde - if this is incorrect you may want to change that, but it does add to the vibe. Good description, and I love that last centence. very in the assasin aspect.

The park, which is covered in shadows, is eerily silent except for the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. I stick to the path, trying to seem like a normal person taking an evening stroll.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.
I am searching for my canvas, I tell myself. But, who am I kidding?

More descriptions and canvas comments illuding to mental instability … not something to be happy about unless your the author xD

The old man is walking towards me now, whistling a strange tune. He holds up one hand in greeting and smiles. “Lovely evening, am I right?”
I swallow the bile in my throat and force myself to nod. At the same time, my hand moves towards my sheath.
The old man catches the movement and frowns. “Ah, so they’ve finally sent someone to do their dirty work, haven’t they?”
I have no idea why my client wants this old man killed. Neither do I care. My artwork is the only thing keeping me alive.

The interaction is simple but interesting. I like the character we get from the mysterious man in these few sentences, and the extra context for our assasin.

I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.
I take my paintbrush from the jar of paint and slash at the canvas with bold strokes.
The old man lets out a startled cry. His legs give out and he sinks to the ground, his face twisting into a heartbreaking smile.
My hands start to shake as I remember that there isn’t a paintbrush in my hand, but a knife. The knife slips from my grasp, clanging onto the pavement. I see a flash of silver as the moonlight reflects onto the blade.
And crimson, so much crimson.
I take a step back as if to examine my masterpiece from a different angle. Carolina blue eyes void of life; crimson blood everywhere.
I retch as I realize that my fingertips are stained crimson as well. It’s ironic how it almost looks like paint.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.
My dream of being an artist sticks with me, even though I know it’ll never come true. The only medium I’ll ever be able to paint with is blood.
I sink to the ground, ignoring the wind that sends chills throughout my body
I am not an artist, and the world isn’t my canvas.

ahhh what do I say? The description, the imagery, the violence without being too gory… all very good. That metaphors and insanity coming up, and more sympathy for the poor MC.

Overall very very good piece, my only general suggestion would be to read through it out loud to check your comma placement/other, and maybe write it in paragraphs? I understand if it's a stylistic choice, but you could write it in more pararaph form and it would give those italicized statements on their own line more weight – more like::

The paintbrush sits untouched on the highest shelf above my desk. No matter how hard I try to forget its existence, my eyes always travel to that shelf before I leave my small, single-room apartment. I know I should throw it away, as I have the rest of my dreams. But every time I want to, something inside of me makes my entire body freeze. No matter how hard I try, a part of me still clings to my past self- clings to the hope that there’s still a chance I’ll one day fulfill my dreams. It’s stupid, I know. Someone who has fallen as low as I have has no hope of retribution. But I sometimes still like to imagine things were different.

I grab my knife from the desk, securing it in the sheath at my hip. I imagine it is a paintbrush dipping itself into a fresh jar of paint. As I leave my apartment, I stop to glance at the highest shelf- the paintbrush hidden in the shadows. I repeat a phrase several times in my head.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.
Then, without another backward glance, I leave. The hallway is dim, the floorboards uneven. The plastered drywall cadet gray and cracked. I ignore all of this as I hurry through, barely breathing until I make it outside.
I am an artist, and the world is my canvas.

Critique for @silverlynx-
Piece: The Secret of Life, 381 words

So first of all, it's a very good piece. I really like how much detail you go into with all your descriptions without making it seem too slow. It was interesting to read and kept my focus, and the first sentences did a good job of pulling the reader in, which is important for a writing piece. Now I'm going to go through it in pieces giving commentary to specific parts. Your writing will be qouted like this:

qoute

From the depths of the rivers and forests and jungles rose a great tree, tougher than everything and anything, mightier even than the king of the jungle, the lion. Surrounded by swirling rivers and rustling reeds, a bud grew. More and more followed until the tree was dripping with them.

So as I mentioned above, great descriptiveness and opening sentence. However, when you say a bug grew, it's a little confusing as to whether it's a flower on the ground, something growing on the tree like a vine, or the trees buds. You may want to say something like: surrounded by swirling rivers and rustling reeds, a bug began to grow on the trees branch; or something like that to be clear that this is the fruit of the tree.

Slowly, the first bud began to open up. It grew more and more, until inside it lay a glimmering seed. Blue and turquoise lit the crystal clear pod, so beautiful to even the most laborious person. On the raging river came a man in a boat, with a bag filled with treasures to the very brim. He passed the tree on its little island and saw the seeds. He pulled out a blade, elongated like a crescent moon and looked in sheer delight at the glimmering seeds before him. But instead of thinking of the life they could produce, he thought of the money and fame that he would recieve.

Okay, again, amazing descriptions! for the first two sentences, I might say “The bud began to open up as it grew, revealing a that inside it lay” or something along those lines to make it a smoother transition. I would also say “blue and turquoise light lit” instead of just lit, because that's also slightly confusing for me.

So he took the seeds and stuffed them in every little nook and cranny in his sack. His spiteful eyes glittered coldly as he stole his way through the sun-touched waters. Many days it took for him to reach his hometown, but when he did, fame was bestowed upon him.

This is good, I might add some description to the town here.

A young child with her mother passed him with his seeds laid out on a blanket. She leapt in excitement and managed to get a seed. She then found out that it was an egg, waiting to hatch, so in the gap between her waist and legs, her mother put a cage. Another boy got this done too, and they played together happily.

I would put their names in here instead, such as “a young child, serena, and her mother” and “another boy, matthew.” You might also want to add a description of the child before she has the cage, because people who have not seen the comment may not understand what you mean by “the gap between her waist and legs,” as well as maybe saying her chest and legs since that's more what it looks like to me, but interpret it however you want! You may want to say birdcage instead of cage and indicate that the egg is inside it. The introduction of the boy is a little choppy to me, you could say something like “she met a boy who also had a birdcage and egg” or something like that.

Time passed, and the birds hatched and the two children grew. They sang a sweet song and the children soon found themselves adults with a baby.

The first sentence is fine, but the second one is a bit confusing. For example, when you say “they” I'm not sure whether you mean the birds or children, and just saying they found themselves adults with a baby… I would indicate that they are married instead, such as “the two friends soon married and had a child” or something like that.

The birds carried on growing, as did the children, now adults, Serena and Matthew.

Again, “the children, now adults”. instead, maybe say “the couple.” And we've known them for about three paragraphs and you only introduce their names now, which is a little strange and in this case a bit choppy with the sentence you have.

Eventually, Serena was a grandmother, and the bird was edging its way out of the cage.

And again, “eventually, serena was a grandmother” is strange… maybe say “years passed, and serena became a grandmother” which makes more sense.

So Serena travelled far away, and stroked her bird, which she had named Solna after her mother, for the last time. Solne spread her beautiful blue and purple wings and took off, looking back at Serena, singing the song that was to be known as the Secret of Life.

Tying it off with a simple and beautiful ending is great!

So, overall, great job! The only real thing I found was the way you chose to show the passing of time/age. Your descriptions are beautiful and detailed, just be aware that it and your word choice gives it a very different feel from other writing, which is fine if it's a stylistic choice and actually very cool, I just want you to be aware of that . One other suggestion would be to read your piece aloud, this isn't about your piece it's just a general editing thing that can help with the flow and see if things make sense. Your writing is amazing and I hope that there's some helpful advice here!

Daily July 11: 266 words

You open your eyes, finding yourself lying on a grassy hill near a tall pine tree. A boy is lying beside you. You shake his shoulder as you try to remember how you got here, and he lets out a sound like a goat as he jerks upright. He gives a relieved sigh as he looks around, and you turn away from the tree and the top of the hill to see what he’s looking at. Before you is a beautiful valley ringed in wooded hills that meets the ocean directly ahead of you. A stream winds through the trees and meets a crystal clear lake with a dock and canoes. There are strawberry fields and a three story blue house as well, but what catches your eye are the other buildings. A greek amphitheatre, pavilion, and arena for starters, as well as twelve odd-looking buildings. One is blood red, another is silver, and two are huge with white columns out front. Two figures run up the hill towards you.

“Are you guys okay?” The first asks, a girl with shoulder-length dark brown hair and freckles smattered across her nose wearing a leather breastplate. The other, a girl with light brown braids, a bow, and a quiver of arrows on her back pulls the boy to his feet.
“I’m fine,” he replies, and they turn to you.
“Um… I’m alright I guess. Where am I?” you ask them.
“I’m Lily, this is Elaine, and this is Sage,” The brown haired girl replies, pointing to the other two.
“Welcome to Camp Halfblood!” Elaine says with a grin.

Fanfiction Cabin intro based on Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

DAILY 15, Adventure Voyage SWC July 2023 musical fanfic:

The Story of…. Adventure (as a musical script)

Scene 1:
Beginning, 7am, at the dock
*curtains raise to show a bunch of people standing on a wooden dock near some ships*
*Young girl enters from stage right, staring at ships*
Song 1: “Now what?”
YOU, spoken: “Whoah”
YOU, sung: “Well, this is it. I’m really here.”
*you looks around*
YOU, sung: “So now what?”
ALL, sung: “The note said”
*begins to sing and walk up the stairs and across the dock*
YOU, sung: “Come to the dock tomorrow.”
ALL, sung: “At 7am”
YOU, sung: “I’m at the dock, it’s tomorrow,”
ALL, sung: “At 7am”
YOU, sung: “I got up early, because it’s tomorrow”
ALL, sung: “At 7am”
YOU, sung: “Rushed to docks, it’s tomorrow”
ALL, sung: “At 7am”
YOU, sung: “So now what?”
*Stops walking*

End of scene 1 (audience claps briefly)

Scene 2:
Introductions, 7am, on the dock and ship
*Rockie enters from behind ship*
*YOU and ensemble gathers around her*
ROCKIE, spoken: “Welcome to the Adventure Voyage! I’m your leader, Rockie and
I’m so excited to get to know all of you.”
*Rockie turns and walks towards the largest ship, ensemble follows*
Dock set piece rolls away, ship turns so that the deck is visible and Aurora appears
*Aurora drops a rope ladder off the side of the ship and Rockie climbs up. Ensemble follows*
AURORA, spoken: “Ahoy! I’m Aurora, Rockie’s first mate.”
*Ensemble whispers and looks around curiously*
Song 2: “Late for Fate”
*Rockie steps forward, places a foot on the wheel*
ROCKIE, sung: “Now you must be wondering why you’re here.”
*swings down*
ALL, spoken: “yes”
ROCKIE, sung: “Well then let me tell you why you’re here”
ROCKIE, sung: “We’re going on a voyage”
ALL, sung: “Going on a voyage”
ROCKIE, sung: “And it’s gonna be hard”
ALL, sung: “Gonna be hard”
ROCKIE, sung: “So we better be ready”
ALL, sung: “for anything”
ROCKIE, sung: “We’re gonna face many challenges”
ALL, sung: “Challenges”
ROCKIE, sung: “And we’ll brave many dangers”
YOU, spoken: “Danger?”
*Rockie turns around*
ROCKIE, sung: “Yes, dangers. But don’t. You. wor. Ry!”
*Rockie spins around*
ROCKIE, sung: “Because you’ve got me. And you’ve got each other. And we’re heroes. Heroes.”
YOU, spoken: “But I’m not a hero?”
ROCKIE, sung: “You must be wondering why you’re here, then.”
YOU, spoken: “Yes.”
ROCKIE, sung: “Because you can be anything. ANd you don’t know it yet. But you’re gonna be heroessssss. You’re gonna be great. And we better get going now, ‘Cause we don’t wanna be late”
YOU, spoken: “Late for what?”
ROCKIE, sung: “LATE FOR DESTINY, LATE FOR FATE,”
ROCKIE, sung: “AND WE BETTER GET GOING NOW, CAUSE WE DON”T WANNA BE LATE.”
*Aurora joins in*
AURORA, sung: “You may not feel ready now, but you can be great.”
ROCKIE, sung: “Yes, you can be great.”
AURORA, sung: “And you’re gonna be heroes, even if you don’t know it yet. Because we’re on a voyage. And we’re setting sail right now, cause you’ve been chosen, even if you don’t know how.”
ROCKIE, sung: “And if you’re afraid.”
AURORA, sung: “That’s all right.”
ALL, sung: “That’s all right.”
YOU, sung: “Because we’ve got you, and we’ve got each other.”
ALL, sung: “Yes, we’ve got each other.”
YOU, sung: “AND WE”RE GONNA BE HEROESSS, even if I don’t know how, we’re gonna be heroes.”
ROCKIE, sung: “So we better get going now.”
ALL, sung: “‘Cause we don’t wanna be late”
ROCKIE, sung: “LATE FOR DESTINY”
YOU, sung: “LATE FOR FATE,”
ROCKIE, sung: “AND WE BETTER GET GOING NOW, CAUSE WE DON”T WANNA BE LATE.”
ALL, sung: “NO, WE DON”T WANNA BE LATE.”
ROCKIE, sung: “No, we don’t wanna be late.”
ROCKIE, spoken: “So are you heroes ready for the adventure of a lifetime?”
*All cheer*
Boat begins to move away from dock.
YOU, sung: “THEN we better get going now”
ALL, sung: “‘Cause we don’t wanna be late!”
ROCKIE, sung: “No, we don’t wanna be late.”
ROCKIE, sung: “LATE FOR DESTINY”
YOU, sung: “LATE FOR FATE,”
ROCKIE, sung: “AND WE BETTER GET GOING NOW, CAUSE WE DON”T WANNA BE LATE.”
ALL, sung: “WE DON”T WANNA BE LATE.”
ALL, sung: “WE DON”T WANNA BE LAAAAATE.”
YOU, sung: “Nooooo, we don’t wanna be late.”

End of Introduction

(**NOTE:: “YOU” is technically insert your name here, since it's based off our cabin, but YOU is also technically written as me. This is largely based on our cabin story snippet. ALL is usually ensemble but also can include you, rockie, and aurora. The songs were literally written as I went along so um… yeah the songs are literally off the top of my head so they're kinda bad xD.)

Distopian-Sci-fi-Fantasy story (yes this is what I call it xD)

This story takes place on the Planet Eclectis, a planet that earthens settled about 200 years ago. It is home to a species of native people, the Ec’li, who are a semi-aquatic, blue warrior tribe that is very intune with nature (AND NO, THIS IS NOT AVATAR). They have powers do to this relationship that allow them to manipulate a force that can be used in ways simaler to earthen electricity but also has it's own special…. properties.

The story takes place after a rebellion where a group of oppressed, lower class rebels decide to overthrow the people in power, getting rid of most of the noble families, destroying and pillaging much of the city, and appointing their own new government that claims to serve the people but is actually a dictatorship. The leader follows false pretenses of sharing the new role of leader with his co-leaders, but slowly begins to control them and eventually desposes of them when they no longer serve his purposes, becoming sole dictator of Eclectis and severing the connections with the dying planet earth.

During the night of the rebellion, the daughter of an important official, named Katerina, escapes her home before it's blown up and is rescued by a revolutionary who didn’t know what she was signing up for, Ester, a rogue android. Ester is Katerina's long-lost friend, an extremely advanced AI who ran away when she found out she was going to be reprogrammed. The two unite with a street-girl with strange powers, Emilia, who is the sister that Katerina didn't know she had because Emilia was experimented on as a baby, which gave her her powers, but was abandoned because of them, and an Ec’li boy, T'chay, who escaped from the labs where he was being held in the confusion of the attack, as well as a mysterious boy who always wears a suit of armour named X. They attempt to escape the city, reunite T’chay with his tribe, help Emilia control her budding powers, reconcile Emilia, Ester, and Katerina, deal with the **possible romances** between Emilia and T’chay as well as katerina/ester and X, and then overthrow the government and put X on the throne after finding out that he is the true heir to Eclectis.

Anyways, the two begginning options are either to begin it with the night of the revolution, then add backstory, or to do some setup with the characters, for example show T'chay at the lab, Emilia surviving on the streets, Ester joining the revolution, Katerina being a pampered rich brat living her life, X…. doing secret mysterious X stuff >, etc., then go into how they all meet. Hmm, at this point I'm really leaning towards my original plan because I feel like I have a lot more fun adding backstory after xD.

And this all has very complicated culture, character relationships and backstories, and history and um… yeah…

lilyjen wrote:

Distopian-Sci-fi-Fantasy story (yes this is what I call it xD)

This story takes place on the Planet Eclectis, a planet that earthens settled about 200 years ago. It is home to a species of native people, the Ec’li, who are a semi-aquatic, blue warrior tribe that is very intune with nature (AND NO, THIS IS NOT AVATAR). They have powers do to this relationship that allow them to manipulate a force that can be used in ways simaler to earthen electricity but also has it's own special…. properties.

The story takes place after a rebellion where a group of oppressed, lower class rebels decide to overthrow the people in power, getting rid of most of the noble families, destroying and pillaging much of the city, and appointing their own new government that claims to serve the people but is actually a dictatorship. The leader follows false pretenses of sharing the new role of leader with his co-leaders, but slowly begins to control them and eventually desposes of them when they no longer serve his purposes, becoming sole dictator of Eclectis and severing the connections with the dying planet earth.

During the night of the rebellion, the daughter of an important official, named Katerina, escapes her home before it's blown up and is rescued by a revolutionary who didn’t know what she was signing up for, Ester, a rogue android. Ester is Katerina's long-lost friend, an extremely advanced AI who ran away when she found out she was going to be reprogrammed. The two unite with a street-girl with strange powers, Emilia, who is the sister that Katerina didn't know she had because Emilia was experimented on as a baby, which gave her her powers, but was abandoned because of them, and an Ec’li boy, T'chay, who escaped from the labs where he was being held in the confusion of the attack, as well as a mysterious boy who always wears a suit of armour named X. They attempt to escape the city, reunite T’chay with his tribe, help Emilia control her budding powers, reconcile Emilia, Ester, and Katerina, deal with the **possible romances** between Emilia and T’chay as well as katerina/ester and X, and then overthrow the government and put X on the throne after finding out that he is the true heir to Eclectis.

Anyways, the two begginning options are either to begin it with the night of the revolution, then add backstory, or to do some setup with the characters, for example show T'chay at the lab, Emilia surviving on the streets, Ester joining the revolution, Katerina being a pampered rich brat living her life, X…. doing secret mysterious X stuff >, etc., then go into how they all meet. Hmm, at this point I'm really leaning towards my original plan because I feel like I have a lot more fun adding backstory after xD.

And this all has very complicated culture, character relationships and backstories, and history and um… yeah…

this is an amazing idea! i'd read it

For the Bi-daily- Luca and Kay meet piece.

For a little context of why I picked this/my style: This is a piece that I wrote a while ago and recently got a critiquaire that was very helpful to make some edits, so I feel like it's a pretty up-to-date example of my style. It's also a piece I really like, which I feel is important. Stylistically this is the format my writing usually takes– paragraphs that are seperated by an empty line, dialogue with a new line when switching characters and three spaces before, and dialogue shown using “these marks around it,” etc. so it's accurate in that way. Keep in mind that this is a very… dramatic scene, and the characters are being a bit vague, and they've just met, so some things are slightly different due to that, then, say, a calm conversation between two besties where one is telling the other all about the summer camp she just went to. But I guess that's obvious? Anyways, have fun and I can't wait to see the finished product if you're willing to share!

For a little context on the piece: this is part of a novel I'm writing. The character who's POV it's from is named Kay, she's a 13yo girl and the boy is Luca, an 11yo boy. They both have magical amulets that give them special powers - Kay's is purple and allows her to turn invisible so far, while Luca's is blue and gives him power over electricity. The are both on the run from an Organization called the Hand. Kay was betrayed by her best friend, Mica, so she doesn't want to trust anybody. Luca destroyed his whole village and everyone died when he wore his amulet for the first time, so he's basically terrified of it and himself now poor kiddo. This is their first meeting.

The boy doesn’t know that I’m watching him. He’s sitting on the shore of the lake, crying. His arms are wrapped around his knees, which are pulled up to his chest, his head laid on them. Sobs wrack his skinny body. I guess he’s around nine or ten. He has spiky bright red hair and pale skin. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like him. I should move on. I don’t know why I’ve spent so long watching him. His problems aren’t my problems. And I have plenty of problems. But… for the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel something other than hate or fear or indifference to another human. I actually feel sympathy for him.

His sobs finally begin to lessen, as if there aren’t any left. He wipes his eyes and stands up shakily, something clenched in his left fist. He holds it out over the water, his hand shaking as he slowly uncurls his clenched fingers to reveal an electric blue stone on a silver chain. I inch closer. The stone begins to pulse slightly with a pale light. He stares at it. I move closer again to get a better view, and the pulse grows brighter. I feel a warmth against my chest, and pull out my amulet. A dark purple gem on a silver chain. It’s pulsing too. I’ve never seen it do this before. I step forward again, out of the trees. I’m so startled by the sound of my foot on the gravel of the beach that I gasp, a soft woosh of escaping air. He spins around.
“Wh-Who’s there?” He asks shakily. He heard me! No one’s heard me for… I wonder if he can see me. I see my hand start to shimmer, realizing that he can see me. I’ll let him see me. I shimmer into view. He yelps and steps backwards, his electric blue eyes wide. He looks like a cornered animal.
“Stay back!” He yells, surprising me.
“Stay back, stay away from me!” He repeats, his voice breaking. He takes a step backwards into the water.
“Stay away, go away before-before-before-” his voice cracks. He stumbles backwards, his whole body shaking, with terror or exertion or cold I don’t know. He seems genuinely scared, though for some reason I get the feeling he isn’t afraid of me.
“You have to get away before I- I- I- before it happens again!” He says. He’s clutching the amulet in his hand so hard his knuckles are white.
“Please! Please…” He whispers. He takes a step back, now waist deep in the water.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say.
“No it’s n-n-nottt! Go away before I hurt you too!”
“What?” I ask, confused. How would he hurt me? He takes another step backwards and disappears under the water. Drop off.

Before I quite know what I’m doing I ran into the water and dove in after him. I barely notice the sudden freezing cold as I peer ahead of me through the clear, dark water, spotting a flash of white. I grab his skinny wrist and drag him up, out of the water to lay him, coughing, on the sand. He curls to his side and coughs up water as I kneel beside him, not sure what to do. I brush my wet hair out of my eyes as I watch his pale face. Suddenly, a bright white glow appears. I look down to see our two amulets connected. There’s a brighter flash, and they stop glowing.

Critique for @Ilishaqueen
Piece: Not meant for finery

First thoughts:: Wow. This is really, really good. You're style is very beautiful and I like how you put emphasis on things by putting them on new lines. The character shows through really well and has a strong character voice. I like the simple but beautiful descriptions and the way that we get a sense of this world, politics, etc. without any info dumping or explaining. I also really like how relatable you make the MC, even though she's an assasin. For the rest of the critique I'll be going through it and qouting parts that I'll provide further comments on <3.

Bright yellow sunlight spills from the windows, illuminating my face. Two women clean my wounds, large scratch marks that tear across my back. They won't stitch it. They leave it open. I suppose it's a reminder. Then I’m made to wear a periwinkle gown. I've never worn anything so beautiful.

Very nice descriptions. Good sentence varieation with two longer sentences, two short, and two medium. Good job at catching the readers attention, drawing them into the piece, and starting to get to know this character and world in only a short paragraph.

I hate it.

I like the emphasis you put on this by putting it on a new line. Good character voice – she is to the point, blunt. We learn that this character doesn't like this.

Assassins like me are not meant for finery.

again, emphasis by placing on a new line. This is a good feature of your style. And we get more information, and more of the blunt character voice.

I'm still wondering why they took me from prison, where they were busy rubbing the salt I mined onto my back. Assassins have it brutal in prison. I'm surprised why they haven't hanged me yet.

Yes, she's definitely straightforward. More information on the world and this characters position. No info dumping, but we now know that she's an assasin who was imprisoned, but has now strangely been taken to be made up. We also find out that she worked in a mine, suggesting she is a working class person.

The dress leaves my back bare, my scars exposed. My fingers skim over the soft material. The light makes it glow. They do my hair next, a simple braid. I'm in a small room, a group of few women busy grooming me. There's a huge mirror, and it reminds me of a public bathroom. Sinks line up one wall, but the rest is occupied by the massive wardrobe. And a huge bathtub.

This is good description. However, you have three sentences in a row that have a comma in the middle. I might change one+ of them, perhaps like this “I'm in a small room with a group of women busy grooming me.” To break up the pattern for more sentence varieation. Still keeping the straightforward character voice.

Once I look pretty, they stuff seven packs of cards into my hands. My fingers tremble at the sight of the familiar boxes. The cards my sister made. I don't know what happened to her.

mmmmm more backstory! and character! Very good, simple, keeping with the straightforwardness and simple descriptions that add a lot of information in a few sentences.

I hope she's still alive.

And more keeping with the style, putting emphasis on the sentence that is most important to our assasin. Simple, straightforward, and adds info– she cares about her sister. Helps us to emphasize with her more.

I open a pack hungrily, finding the usual glossy drawings. She made them herself, designing and painting each symbol, each character, each letter.

I miss her so much.

More context, same as mentioned above.

Piling the cards back into the box, I close it. Boxes in my hands, they lead me away.

Straighforward, and brings us back into the scene. I might change the second sentence to make it flow better and add sentence variation though.

My gaze is fixated on the cards. She drew the boxes herself, too. The covers. I folded the boxes for her. My fingers run over the paint. I always admired how she painted. Her hand was so still when she painted. Her fingers never trembled.

And more of what I've talked about– character voice, sentence variation, context and information, etc. More sympathizing.

I'm so lost in my thoughts, I don't notice we've stopped. I look up. The Queen stands in front of me, her usual mocking smile on her face.

Good sentence variation here! And more information– obviously we've met this queen before, and she is not a kind queen.

I don't curtsey, but stare defiantly into her face. She crosses the floor, reaching me.The light from the arched windows reflects in her eyes. We are in some kind of corridor. She lifts my chin up. Her bright green eyes peer into mine.

Here we have a lot of very short sentences. You could probably combine the last two to help with the flow/sentence variation. Otherwise good descriptions and character.

“So you're Tremble. I've heard so, so much about you. You're wondering why I brought you here, aren't you? I brought you here to entertain my guests this evening. Neighbouring kings and queens, so you must be friendly.” She gestures to the packs of cards in my hands. “I hear you're quite the gambler. The game we have planned is related. The rulers will bet their soldiers instead of money. The victor gains all the soldiers. You have the honour of picking the game.” She claps her hands. Her short white hair tickles her pointy chin.

hmmm. I'm not sure what to say about this, since I don't know the queens character voice. I would suggest reading it out loud in the queens voice to see how it feels.

“Concentration.” I whisper.

“Of course.”

She smiles at me. I can't help but feel she's laughing at me.

simple interaction, to the point. good character coming through.

Then I'm lead through a winding tower. My head is dizzy from the steps. I find a small piece of wire on the stairs. I pick it up, making it seem I bent to fix my shoes.

Finally we stop by a grand oak door. Inside, I can hear laughter. “And here she is! Our generous host for today.” The Queen claps her hands, welcoming me. How did she get here before me?

I might combine two of the sentences in the first paragraph to add sentence variation, otherwise it's good. I would put the dialogue in the second on a new line.

The door is opened. Bright yellow lights. Plush carpets. A round table. Tapestries hanging across the walls. My heels glide across the red fur. Everyone is staring me. I bow. There's a deathly quiet. I haven't looked in the mirror, so I don't know how absolutely pretty I look. With all eyes fixed on me, I drop the card boxes on the table and take a seat.

This is good, descriptions, character voice, etc.

“Welcome.” My voice is clear and bright. “Today we all have gathered here to gamble. Concentration, I hope you're all familiar with it.” There's a murmur of assent from the table. “Good. Then I won't be explaining. Let's get right to it. There will be seven sets. Whoever wins the most sets; wins.” I break out of the cards. Sixty cards each pack. Four-hundred-twenty cards. I assemble them without help.

Good character, interesting, and gives us a sense of the others. She hasn't done anything yet, so you're leaving us anticipating what she's gonna do, if she's really going to be complacent.

“Let's begin!”

The silence that has been holding up is broken. One of the King laughs.

This is good, simple.

I go first. The table is filled with sounds of chips as people place their bets. “Each chip is worth a thousand soldiers.” I announce. The Queen looks at me in horror. She isn't playing.

After everyone is done, I draw two cards. It's a match.

Soon, there is the dull chatter of conversation from the table. I just barely pay attention it, until one of the Queen's comments catches my ear.

Dialogue on a new line, watch for sentence variation, etc.

“I had quite the death planned for her sister.” She says to another queen. She laughs mercilessly. A cruel and beautiful sound.

“Did you hang her?” A King joins in.

The horror eats me up. They're talking about my sister. My hands shake.

She’s dead. She’s gone.

ooooh now we get to the good stuff! Makes us hate the queen and sympathize with the assasin, adds character to both.

“No, that's so old fashioned. I had her beaten to death. Each day they cut off her body parts.”

They killed her. They tortured her.

One of the queens hisses. “Painful. It should have been a public execution. Her ragged body, presented to the people.”

There are tears in my eyes.

There is a murmur of agreement. And then they all join together with their suggestions. The game is going well. I have the most pairs.

I look upwards. The Queen has her gaze pinned on me.

Everyone's eyes are turned to the cards. Instead of the quiet anticipation, they're all discussing ways they should have killed my sister.

More of the same.

Something snaps. I feel everything reduced to a blur, except for her face.

The Queen.

and here we go, into the climax of the piece! Same with the style and character that have been consistent throughout the piece.

I lunge for her, pulling out the wire. I stab it through her eyes. She screams in pain. Blood spatters onto my gown. I slit her throat. She dies instantly, her pulse stopping. It takes the rest a while to react. Too late. I've already found a silver dagger in the Queen's belt.

Only question- how does she slit her throat? I mean with what? otherwise very good, very dramatic.

The next person I kill is one of the Queens. The one who suggested the public execution.

Then, the King who asked if she was hanged.

The queen who said she should have been burned.

The queen that said I should have killed her.

The queen that wished that they could have seen it.

The king who said a sweep of a sword would suffice.

The King who said I should have seen it.

All of them.

All of them.

AAAhhhh the beautiful climax! Great job. Everything that's been building up throughout the piece comes out beautifully here!

And then I sit on the furry carpets in the bright yellow light, blood running down my body. My periwinkle dress, stained red.


Assassins are not meant for finery.

And then you tie it off with a simple, perfect ending, with a callback to the beginning.

Great job, I love the characters and style, and good luck!

SWC November 2023 :: Steampunk Camper Thread

Dailies:
1: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7620476
2: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=1#post-7620848
3: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=2#post-7623641
4: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/682100/?page=2#post-7628348
5:

Weeklies:
1:

Other:

Daily 1: Introductions!

Heyy! I'm Lily! Well, that’s not my name (did you think it was?) but it’s the name I use online because I like it and because it’s part of my scratch username, so it’s easy to associate my username to my nickname. I’m attempting the one thousand word intro challenge because I saw someone else’s and it looked fun, and it gives me words too so why not. Prepare for a lot of randomness and kinda ranting tho xDD. I’m 12-16 years old. My pronouns are she and her and I am straight. I am Pro-life. I am European and I am Catholic and I love my faith. I am also Canadian and I love my country so much. We may have problems but Canada is beautiful, especially BC where I live. My timezone is PST. I am in the ✨Steampunk✨ cabin This is my…. sixth session of SWC. My first was a poetry camper in July of 2021, my second was a Mystery camper in July of 2022, my third was Dystopian (now know as discopain, go check it out, it’s chaotic and beautiful and will never die), and my fourth was Adventure in March of 2023. My Fifth was Adventure (again) in July of 2023, and this is my sixth, in steampunk cabin of November 2023. Which I already said.

Okay, moving on from facts about me and my sessions to my interests and hobbies! My interests and hobbies are many. MANY. But starting off with WRITING. I mean, if it wasn’t, why would I be here in the first place. But yes, I love to write, mainly fiction, and I have wayyyyyy too many characters and worlds and plots and personalities and kiddos stuck in my head, and wayyyyy too little time to write about all of them. I also love to read, which makes sense, being a writer. Some of my Favorite books are Riordanverse – Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus, Kane Chronicles, and Trials of Apollo. I haven’t read Magnus Chase and the gods of Asguard yet though. I also like Artemis Fowl, the Wingfeather Saga, The Hunger Games, Divergent, Keeper of the Lost Cities, Wings of Fire, and soooo many other books it would take forever and infinity to list them all. I enjoy watching a plethora of movies (using the word plethora does not make this purple prose!) including the Marvel Cinematic Universe Movies, Disney Movies (the ones that don’t suck. Sorry if you’re a hard core fan who things none of them do), and various other movies including How to Train Your Dragon movies, Song of the Sea, Rise of the Guardians, and, like with books, so many more that it would take me forever and infinity to list them! I like considerably less TV shows because I have watched considerably less TV shows – Once upon a Time, The Owl House, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, Infinity Train, HTTYD: Race to the Edge, and a few more. I don’t really have specific artists that I listen to, but I like some Taylor Swift and some Olivia Rodrigo and some Imagine Dragons. I also like a lot of praise music. aND MuSIcaLs! Epic: The musical and Dear Evan Hansen are my favorites right now. Some songs I like are Lost Boy, Neverland, Beautiful Life, Waving through a Window, Open Arms, and many, many, many more.
And of course all the songs in the musicals I mentioned. On top of all that watching and reading and writing and listening, I like to draw. I do both traditional and digital, but lately it’s been a lot more traditional for me. I love working with alcohol markers, and my favorite thing to draw is people. I want to make a graphic novel some day, maybe as an adaption of one of my books (if I ever get one written – Nanowrimo better go well!). And yes, I’m doing NaNoWriMo this november, trying to write the entire first draft of my novel in 30 days like a crazy person. Oh, wait, I am crazy. That explains it! On top of all of that, I also enjoy doing track and field. Each year I usually participate in slightly different events, depending on which ones I’m able to practice the most and feel like I’m doing the best at. But in general, I’m a sprinter, and I like to do High Jump and throws. Hammer Throwing is fun, I don’t get why so many people are scared of it. And discus and shot put are awesome. Not a Javelin or Long Jump person tho. I’ve never tried pole vault but I want to. And on top of THAT, I’m in my school’s choirs and in my school musical, Shrek the Musical. Both are very fun but also very challenging and time consuming, and they make me laugh about as much as they make me feel like crying – “but hey, that’s life and life ain’t fair” and I’ve almost written 1000 words, are you proud of me? What else to say about myself… I have four siblings (I’m the second of 5), 3 sisters and a brother and also, a cat. So five siblings counting him. They are a handful and crazy and I alternate between loving them and wanting to chuck them out the window, but yeah they’re awesome. My goals this session is to do Nanowrimo (write a whole first draft of my novel this month ;—, improve my writing, and really improve my characters and character voice (what, no, I'm totally not struggling to make my characters have consistent personalities, what are you talking about?/hj) anyways, I'm super excited for this session and to get to know (and war) all of you! And that should be the end of my 1000 word rant I think! Wasn’t this fun? If you read all the way to here, you’re awesome and here are 50 SWC mangoes for you! I hope you have lots of motivation sparkle cookies saved up for the month ahead! Byeeeeee! Wait nevermind I have more to add, I also play DND I’ve only played one session so far and it was… interesting. Beginner Dungeon Master paired with a character who literally just wanted alcohol the whole time, like we got to a village and he was like “let’s go to the bar” and we were on a boat and he was like “can I do a perception check for booze” it was funny and vaguely frustrating but mostly funny. Spent the session mostly listening to my party mates, and then healed people twice and helped smash a monster with my eldritch blast – I’m a celestial warlock by the way, my patron is a greater Cuatl and I’m a half-elf human.

1127 words

Daily 2: Letter to Future Self

Dear Future Self,

Hi! I have high hopes for this SWC. I’m in the Steampunk Cabin, and I think it’ll be pretty cool. The storyline and leaders and aethstetic are all really nice. My goals for this session are to get better at writing (of course), to write at least 10000 words, although I’m pretty sure I’ll end up going over that because of my NaNoWriMo project, get better at character voice, and write the entire first draft of my novel, Amulets. It’ll definitely be tough, but I hope that if I can get a good chunk of it finished, I can motivate myself to write the rest. I hope I’m done with at least 10 chapters by the end of the month – that gives me 2.5 days to write each. Preferably, I’d be done at least 30-50 because that’s how much I think that it’ll take to finish the book, but while I set lofty goals, I also want to be realistic with myself, and set secondary goals. Anyways, about Amulets – It’s a high fantasy story about three kids called Laoam who have magical amulets that give them powers. Xander (aka Xan) was raised as a perfect soldier, and never really had a family, friends, or a childhood. He was a child prodigy who struggles to connect with people his age, and who has little context for the real world. Kaylani (aka Kay) was an outcast when she was young, but had one good friend, Mica. After he betrayed her, she ran away, deciding she wanted nothing to do with other people. That is, until she met Luca. Luca had a happy childhood, until he was given his amulet. It overpowered him and he accidentally destroyed his village. He blames himself however, and ran away. He and Kay joined forces, and later met Xan and befriended him. The story tells of their adventures as they make new friends, try to live safe lives, deal with their *problems,* and eventually end up unseating the emperor and putting the true queen on the throne. Or at least I think that’s what is going to happen. It could go very differently. We’ll see.

Your past self

365 words

Daily 3: Autumn symbolism

The autumn air is crisp and sweet, the cool breeze rifling through my pockets and running its fingers through my hair. Reminding me of the day two years ago… Only two years ago? I glance at Luca, who’s examining a fallen leaf he picked up. His bright red hair and freckles match it, and his pale skin is like the cloud of his breath in the air, promising of a snowy winter to come. He’s grown and changed so much, like the new apples ready for the harvest. From that timid and shy to the cheerful and confident friend I know today. I guess I’ve changed a lot, too. Xan, on my other side, steps closer to me, twining his fingers in mine. His hair has grown out too, and he’s taken on the habit of braiding a few strands of his messy black hair. We’re all different, aren’t we? Inside and outside. Just like the trees. Wearing the coats of each season, and inside growing new rings all the time.
“Look! we’re almost there!” Luca says, snapping my attention back to him, and suddenly he’s grinning and he's grabbed my hand and he’s pulling me through the trees, and I’m pulling Xan along, and I’m laughing and we’re kicking up leaves in our wake. They fall softly back down behind us, a memory of our passing.

We skid to a stop on an outcropping of rock overlooking the valley, the leaves transitioning between the pine greens and the sages and the golds and the crimsons and the auburns of the changing season. We can just see the village, and some of the fields, and there in the centre is the lake, reflecting back the blue, blue sky and the white clouds and the mountains and the colours of the leaves. I love it here. It’s home. But more than just the scenery. It’s home with these two.
“Wow,” Luca breathes.
“Wow is right,” I agree. Xan nods, sitting down on the ground to finish catching his breath in the cold, thin air. I sit beside him and Luca flops down on my other side.
“This is perfect,” he whispers, snuggling against me. I can’t help but smile. I love these two. So much.
“Ami was right,” Xan replies. “The view is beautiful this time of year.” He shifts closer to me, wrapping his hand around my waist and I lean into him, wrapping my arms around Luca’s neck. Sure, we’re growing and changing, and even if things are similar, they’re never quite the same. But it’s alright. We can be like the trees – adapting with the seasons life throws at us, growing new rings. I put my head on Xan’s shoulder and I smile. This season is a good one.

Daily 4: Origins of a Constellation

Cassiopeia stood, silent, still, stone. She was a statue. Fading into the background. Unimportant. Unremarkable. Unnoticeable. Her limbs were stone. Her breath was silent. She was as immovable as marble.

She flinched when the wine glass shattered on the wall.

Shouldn’t she be used to it by now? Shouldn’t she know what to do? But she didn’t. Each time her father became angry, and he yelled at her sisters, or her mother, or the servants, she froze. Each time someone tried to talk to him, or didn’t respond in the right way, and the situation only escalated she stayed. Each time she wished to do something, she didn’t. She was trapped in indecision.

She became a statue.

Maybe a statue he wouldn’t notice her. None of them would notice her. Maybe as a statue, they would all forget she was there.

At least as a statue, she couldn’t make it any worse.

She tried to ignore the voice that told her that as a statue, she also couldn’t make it any better. She tried to quiet the rebellious part inside her. She knew as a statue, that things would stay the same. If she stopped being a statue, who knows what might happen. It could make things so much worse. And then she would have to live with that. Knowing that this time, it was her fault. And she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. She’d tried. She’d made up her mind. This time, she would speak up. This time, she would help. But her lips stayed closed and her feet stayed planted and her hands stayed folded and her spine stayed straight and perfect and statuesque.

She was a statue.

Her father stormed out of the room, and the statue melted. Cass walked back to her room, and even though her legs moved and her lips smiled and she nodded to the servants and the guards that passed, she was still a statue inside. Still the perfect princess. She flung open her window and let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and as she stepped out onto the balcony and stared at the starry sky the statue was finally gone. She stared at the moon. The moon who didn’t have to be perfect. Cratered with imperfections, and yet beautiful nonetheless. Each night she watched that moon, and found herself wanting to be up there in the sky beside it, clothed in stars and galaxies. Hoping that someday, she would find herself dancing with the Moon, each silver and glowing and perfectly imperfect.

A comet shot across the sky. And the princess made a wish.

Daily 6: Exposition

I find Kay sitting on a rocky ledge overlooking the party. Luca’s red hair is easy to pick out as he bobs through the crowd of black hair and blue clothes. He, Ami, and some of the other kids are running around with sparklers. He looks happy.
“Is this seat taken?” I ask as I come up behind Kay.
“What?” she asks, looking up at me. The firelight glints in her purple eyes. I’d never really noticed them before.
“I asked if I could sit here,” I say. She nods and moves over, staring down at the party. We sit in silence for a few moments. What do I say? She sighs and pushes her hair back from her face.
“Are you okay?” I ask, not looking at her.
“Yeah… I’m fine.” She says. Should I ask again? Should I say something? Maybe I should just leave her alo-
“This party… it just reminds me of my old village,” she says, and I pause.
“Oh?” I say.
“We used to have celebrations, all the time. The blue moon celebration was the best one. We had sparklers just like that, and fireworks. It was amazing.”
“Yeah? I-” I stop myself. I’m not supposed to remember anything. What would someone who really lost their memories say?
“I wish I remembered something as amazing as that.” She glances at me.
“Oh, right, I forgot. Do you want me to stop?”
“What? Oh- no, it’s okay. I like hearing about it.”
“Okay,” she says. “We would always sit on the roof to watch the fireworks - the adults didn’t like it, of course, but that never stopped us.”
“Us?” I ask. She blinks.
“Nevermind,” she says, turning away so that her hair hides her face. I look away, too. Maybe I should just go. I shift backwards, ready to get up and walk away, when she continues.
“I… I had a friend. He was kind of my only friend, to be honest. I wasn’t exactly popular.” I shift back into place, but I can’t tell if she’s even paying attention to me anymore.
“But I was fine with that. One friend was enough. We were practically inseparable.”
“What happened?” I ask, and she falls silent. I don’t want her to stop. I probably shouldn’t have interrupted her. I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I?
“I told him.” she says simply. “I told him about my amulet. When my caregiver gave it to me. He was the only one, other than her, that knew about it. She told me not to tell.”
I can’t decipher the emotions in her voice. I wish I had more experience with this. Anna and I never talked about personal stuff, and I never really talked to anyone else… it was just easier that way.
“But I told him. Anyways, some men came to the village, asking about a girl with strange powers. Someone around our age. Someone like me.” Her shoulders tense as she speaks.
“Anyone in the village could have pointed them my way. The girl with no family, taken in by the wise woman as a baby. The one who never quite fit in. The one who was always getting into trouble. The one who always had a rumor following her around.” She’s clenching her fists at her sides, but her shoulders are shaking a little.
“But it was him. He told them. He pointed them right at me. And I trusted him.” She looks at me, and there are tears in her eyes.
“Nevermind. I don’t know why I’m even telling you this,” she says, wiping them away with her fingers. “I- I mean, not because of you. Just, I’ve never told anyone. Not even Luca.” She says. She shared a secret with me. She trusts me. And I’m lying to her. I’ve lied about everything. I don’t deserve this secret. I don’t deserve this trust.
“I- I should go,” I say. “I need to, um…”
“It’s okay, go ahead,” she says, her eyebrows drawing together. I stand and hurry away. When I glance back, she’s watching me go.

WEEKLY 1: CHARACTER BUILDING

Part 1: 216 words

Song: Long Story Short (Taylor Swift)
I tried to pick my battles ‘til the battle picked me
Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
And you passed right by
If the shoe fits, walk in it ’til your high heels break
And I fell from the pedestal
Right down the rabbit hole
Long story short, it was a bad time
Pushed from the precipice
Long story short, it was the wrong guy

Annika leaned back against the tree, stretching her arms over her head and watching the light through the leaves dapple her pale skin in sunlight and shadow. Her green eyes sparkled, matching the grass beside her. A strand of her black hair fell into her face as she looked down at the book sitting in her lap, and she tucked it back behind her ear.
“Hey,” Rose said as she slid down the trunk of the tree to sit beside Annika, her blonde hair glowing gold in the sunlight. “Are you alright?” She asked.
“As ‘alright’ as I can be, after that fight,” Annika said with a sigh, closing her notebook.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rose asked carefully. Annika sighed again.
“Not really. I just wish- I didn’t want to have that fight.” Annika said, looking down at her hands in her lap.
“I understand,” Rose replied. “I don’t think he wanted to fight with you either.”
“No,” Annika said, before pausing again. “I don’t know- I just- I don’t want to burden you guys. I can deal with it by myself.”
“Annika, you don’t have to hold everything in. You don’t have to keep going until you break.” Rose said, putting a tentative hand on Annika’s shoulder. She sighed but didn’t reply.

Part 2: words

Name: Annika
Age: 17
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexuality: Straight, not currently interested in a relationship.
Role in the Story: Main Character

Physical Appearance: Average height, about 5'5; long wavy black hair, fair skin, green eyes, a few freckles. Hourglass body type.
Fashion: Leggings, capes, long tunics, belt. Hair is usually loose, or tied up messily. Leather shoulder bag, leather boots.

Personality: Ambivert, enjoys people but eventually needs time to recharge. Determined, and once she has a goal she will reach it. Independent, to the point of not letting others care for her as they should, instead trying to carry everything herself. A planner, but in certain situations lets things go with the flow - as long as there is still some essence of a plan in it.
Interests: People, Writing, Reading, History.
Quirks: Remembers almost everything she reads, so ocasionally spouts random facts.

Fighting style and weapon of choice: Magic pen, she's also okay with a sword I think.
Magic/Powers: Magic pen or some sort of writing powers.

Other: Has an older brother, used to have a boyfriend named Josh (which I'll probably change), part of an adventuring party.

Part 3: 838 words

Breakup (344 words)
Motivation – wants to travel and finish her novel

“Annika? Where are you?” I hear Josh ask from the other room
“I’m in here getting ready to go- my brother just surprised me with the trip! He said you were getting ready,” I say to him. When he doesn’t answer, I turn around, leaning on my suitcase.
“I was just coming to tell you that we aren’t going,” he says.
“Why not? It’s the trip of a lifetime!”
“Well, yeah, but he sprung it on you. Don’t you want to write? Stay here with all your books and papers?”
“Of course I want to finish my book. But I want to learn more about the world so that I can write it even better. I want to travel.”
He’s staring at me. This isn’t going well.
“What do you mean you want to travel?” He says ‘travel’ like it’s a bad word. I hesitate. He’s one of few that can make me hesitate.
“Just that. I want to go everywhere. The forests, mountains, deserts. Float down the rivers, swim in the oceans, see the creatures, meet the people!”
“I thought you and I were going to be together. Date for a few more years. Write your book. Get married someday.”
“No, that’s what you’ve been planning! I thought that you would want to come with me! I didn’t think that you wanted to sit around for your whole life, never seeing anywhere but this town!”
“I thought you wanted to- whatever. It doesn’t matter now, does it? Considering we have such different views.”
“W-what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that obviously we just can’t work out. You want to travel. I don’t. So leave then. I can find plenty other nice girls,” He says, and I can feel the tears threatening to fill my eyes.
“You’re breaking up with me? Over a trip? Come on! It’ll be fun, you’ll see! Then we can come back and stay and- and-”
“As usual, you're not listening to me. I don’t want to travel. Have fun on your trip.” And then he turns and walks away.

Meeting the merry crew (324 words)
Motivation – wants to travel and finish her novel

I walk into the Inn and look around. There’s so many travelers here - I couldn’t guess which group my brother found for me. I wish- no. Not thinking about him. Think about my novel. I try to make sense of the chaos. In one corner, a man is telling a story animatedly. In another, a group of men is laughing, looking like they’ve had far too many mugs, and in another there’s a mage doing a trick on a small stage. I’m about to ask the innkeep at the counter if she knows where I can find them, when someone jumps onto a stage holding a lyre.
“Hello, good people! Might my brother and I interest you in a song?” She asks, met with cheers from various patrons. Someone calls out something I don’t catch - the name of a dance or a song, and she raises her hands dramatically for silence, before starting to strum a tune. It gets progressively faster as she sings, and soon she’s flying around the table. On the verse a boy jumps up beside her, and they break into a song and dance, before going back to their instruments. These are definitely the ones my brother would choose for me. Young, energetic. Once the song is over, I walk up to them.
“Excuse me-” I say, and they turn, each leaning on something.
“How can I help you?” The girl asks.
“Are you part of the destiny dancers?”
“Did you tell him that was our name?” A voice asks from behind them.
“Don’t start fighting over the name!” The boy snaps at the two of them, but they’re already squabbling. He turns back to me,
“So you’re annika?”
“Yes. I want to join your party.”
“And what makes you think you’re worthy?”
“I have special talents. That I won’t be displaying here.” I say, with a meaningful look around the Inn.
“Hmm.” He says. “Well, come with us then.”

Saving Melody (170 words)
Change in motivation from wanting to travel and finish her novel, to wanting to protect and help her friends.

“Annika!” Rose calls, and I slip out from behind the statue.
“I’m okay!” I call. But they aren’t looking at me. They’re looking at Melody. Melody! I dart down the stairs to her. Rose is frantically emptying her pockets, but it’s too late. I can see it. I can see the life leaving her, her spirit barely holding on. Suddenly, Lyric has grabbed my shoulders. He has a wild look in his eyes. “The pen!” he yells.
“W-what?” I ask.
“Use the pen! That’s what happened to the guardian, isn’t it?”
“I-I-” that was an emergency. This is an emergency. I need all the ink. Melody needs the ink. My book. My friend. I drop to my knees and write on my other arm in a shaky scrawl. It’s got to be quick enough. It’s got to be in time. Melody was healed. I write. The blood sinks into the ground around her. She’s not moving. Oh, stars, it has to work. It has to. She gasps and sits up.

Part 4: 524 (new) words

I have the pen. I can be the greatest author of all time. I can finish my book. I can finally be loved and respected. I can have and I can do whatever I want.
“Melody!” Lyric screams, and I turn around, remembering the chaos around me. My friends, Melody, elf, Lyric, the Guardian. Elf is crouched behind a boulder, her last arrow notched. The guardian, riddled with her other arrows but seemingly unaffected by them, is advancing towards Lyric, who’s kneeling beside an unmoving Mel, red blood pooling on the floor. Rose leaps in front of them, blonde hair flying, and vines sprout from the floor, wrapping around it, trying to restrain it, trying to stop it. But she’s exhausted. It’s not going to stop it. I can see how the scene plays out. But I’m holding the pen.
“Stop!” I yell to the guardian, and it looks up at me, eyes glowing. It’s coming for me. It’s not listening. I have to write. I have no paper. I push up my sleeve and put the pen to my arm, desperately scrawling. The guardian became stone again. I feel the rush of wind and its claw slices off a piece of my long black hair. But nothing else. I open my eyes, and almost scream to see the stone face of the guardian inches from mine. I did it. I stopped it. I changed it. I wrote it.

“Annika!” Rose calls, and I slip out from behind the statue.
“I’m okay!” I call. But they aren’t looking at me. They’re looking at Melody. Melody! I dart down the stairs to her. Rose is frantically emptying her pockets, but it’s too late. I can see it. I can see the life leaving her, her spirit barely holding on. Suddenly, Lyric has grabbed my shoulders. He has a wild look in his eyes. “The pen!” he yells in my face, shaking me back and forth.
“W-what?” I ask.
“Use the pen! That’s what happened to the guardian, isn’t it?”
“I-I-” that was an emergency. This is an emergency. I need all the ink. Melody needs the ink. My book. My friend. Lyric releases me, and I drop to my knees and write on my other arm in a shaky scrawl. It’s got to be quick enough. It’s got to be in time. Melody was completely healed, I write. The blood sinks into the ground around her. She’s not moving. Oh, stars, it has to work. It has to. She gasps and sits up.

Lyric immediately wraps her in a hug, sobbing, and Rose breathes a sigh of relief and tears well in her eyes, but she quickly wipes them away.
“Move,” she says to Lyric. When he doesn’t, she gently pushes him away so that she can inspect Melody for any injuries. When someone is hurt, the confidence she gains is incredible. Melody still looks disoriented, watching in confusion as Melody rips off the shredded bottom half of her shirt to find – perfectly healed skin, without even a scar. Melody touches the spot just below her rib cage where her scar used to be.
“My scars gone?” she says, still discombobulated.
“Sh- She’s completely healed!” Rose exclaims as she gently touches each of Mel’s ribs to check for fractures, before pulling up a healing circle to look closer. Melody stares at us.
“What happened? Where’s the guardian?” her eyes lock on me. “You got the pen!”
“Yeah,” I tell her.
“The guardian slashed you and I thought- I thought-” Lyric sobs, and his eyeliner is running.
“Stop crying, ya big baby,” she replies with a grin. “You’re makeup is running.” He wipes his face, smudging everything around even more.
“We thought you were dead.” Elf says. Lyric nods vigorously.
“Annika saved you.” He adds. She grins at me, the mischievous light back in her eyes.
“I guess we’re even now,” she says.
“What! You’re totally indebted to me now!” I say, and we’re laughing and we’re crying, and then we’re all hugging Mel again and then we’re laughing some more. I’m not sure what to do with all this emotion. But I don’t hate it.

(included things: Name, black hair, personality details)

Cee slipped out of the water and pulled her wet hair over her shoulder. She headed down the sand towards the waterfront market - the biggest merfolk to human trading center this side of the reef - and slid into her stall.
“Hii sushi!” She said, grinning at the seacat sitting on the countertop as she started to spread her shells in the display case. She grabbed a treat from the jar over the window and fed it to the blue and turquoise tabby as she scratched its ear.
“Busy day today!” She added as she pulled on her coverup. The sounds of patrons opening their stalls for the day were starting to come in. She reached down to pour some water into a bowl for Sushi, before pouring herself a glass of lemonade. Suddenly, there was a knock on her cover. She reached over to pull the cord, and the panels pulled up into the roof, opening up the window.
“Oh! Hi Gale!” She said, tucking a lock of her long green hair behind her ear.
“Hey Cee. How’re you?” He asked. Just then, his dog jumped up on her counter, barking at Sushi.
“Ag! Sorry! Down boy! Down!” He said, pulling on Ino’s leash. Sushi hissed and swiped at him, then turned around and stuck her nose in the air. Cee started laughing. Gale finally got Ino under control.
“Sorry about that,” he told her.
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him, “Sushi’s a drama queen, but she doesn’t really mind him.” Sushi gave them both a sour look and meowed. Gale laughed.
“She definitely is a drama queen,” he told her. Sushi rolled her eyes and hopped down onto the road, padding away down the road.
“Yup. Drama Queen.” Gale affirmed.
“Okay, that’s enough. I have to get ready for the customers-”
“Right, right, big day!” He said with a grin. “I’ll leave you to it!”
Cee waved at him as he and Ino headed down the street. Then she focused all of her efforts on her stall, making it the best shell stall on the aisle. Customers started to head through the market, making purchases in shells or coins, or trading. Cee smiled at all of them, waving and chatting with the customers. There weren’t a lot of purchases by the time she took her lunch break, and by the time the sun was setting and Sushi had arrived for his evening snack, she only had half of what she’d hoped for. Gale and Ino came sauntering down the street as the lamplighters came by.
“Hey Cee,” he said. “How’s business?” She sighed and his grin fell.
“That bad, huh?” He asked, hopping up on her counter as she cleared her wares for the night.
“I was just- just really hoping today would be a good day. That maybe I’d have enough to- nevermind. It’s stupid anyways.”
“To go to the Abalone concert?”
“Yeah! How’d you know?”
“It’s only all you’ve been talking about for the past few weeks,” he said.
“Is not!” She retorted. He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe it is.”
“Annnnndddd you have an abalone poster on your stall.”
“Right. that.”

Daily 13: Prompted Piece

And before I know it, I’m being pulled away towards the broken clock tower.
“Kaes, wait!” I say, trying to dig the heels of my boots into the cobblestones. He finally halts in the alleyway, glancing worriedly at his pocketwatch.
“What is it? We have to go!” He says, distracted, always so distracted.
“Let. go. of. my. Arm!” I say, yanking it from him. I bend to retie my boot laces. I need time to think. This is all happening so fast. Kaes, the clocktower, the watches, Logan- oh Gears, Logan. Was he lying the whole time? A spark of anger flares, but then I realize how terrifying it must have been for him. He must’ve been so scared. Kaes is getting impatient.
“Come on! We have to get to the tower!” He says, tugging on my sleeve.
“Okay!” I snap, straightening and brushing off my skirt. I wish I’d worn my trousers today. I hold out my hand, which he grabs, and then we’re running again, darting through the streets, around carriages and newspaper stands and men yelling and newsboys shouting and dogs barking.
“Nobody else is running!” I yell to Kaes.
“That’s because they don’t know yet!” He yells back.
“They have to had made an announcement!”
“They’re stupid! They think that their precious airships will save us!” He says as we skid to a stop in the alley behind the clock. He yanks open the secret door and we duck inside, crawling between the gears and under the pipes and through the steam to the stairs. Then up and up and up and up we go, until we see Porter, one of the clock workers, getting ready to push a box onto the pulley.
“Wait!” Kaes yells, and we jump onto the other side, the box’s weight pulling us up and up and up to the top of the tower and then we’re running again, across the room and behind the gears and through a panel to a hidden ladder and then up and up and again. Finally, finally, we’re at the top.
“Do you really think it’ll work?” I ask Kaes.
“It has to.” He tells me, pulling on his goggles before going to work on his machine, pulling levers and pushing buttons and tugging toggles and doing everything else imaginable.
“Now open the roof!” He says, and I run to the side to pull the lever, and he pushes it up, and then we stand for a moment and stare at it. This contraption of his that could save us or destroy us or do nothing at all.
“Moment of truth,” I say.
“Moment of truth,” he agrees.

And then we pull the lever.

You asked me to write you a persuasive essay about why you should keep the dailies? Or bring them back? I suppose. I suppose I could make an outline, and come up with an introduction and three points and a conclusion, and mangoes help us, a theme statement. But that wouldn’t really capture the essence of SWC, would it? It would feel like school. What we need, what we want, is the chaos, the wonder, and the excitement. That’s one of the best things about dailies. They help us to embrace our spontaneity as SWCers, help us, for a moment, cast aside our procrastination and our plans and to write in the moment. With a prompt and a dream (and a deadline) we create beautiful pieces of writing to share and enjoy. Which brings me to the next point, fun!

What would SWC be without that element of joy? A reprieve from our daily lives? When escaping our DAILY lives, each DAY we need a new escape, a new reprieve, a new DAILY. Something exciting, whimsical, and fun. Something new to look forward to each morning (or afternoon. Or midnight. Or whatever time dailies change in your life). They bring such an air of wonder to our lives, letting us be excited about something new each and every day. What would we be, without having something to look forward too? Dailies give us hope, because they let us know that each new day, there is something new and wonderful coming.

And that leads me to the next part of this “essay” – creativity. I mean, without dailies, you’ve resorted to having us write “essays” as if this was school. Something amazing about dailies is their creativity and versatility. The way that they can be interpreted in so many ways by so many SWCers. The way that one may write a poem, another an essay (if for some reason they deem that to be the best way), a creative piece, a song, a lament. The way that they can be shared to bring joy, or kept close to the heart to inspire us. And that leads us, evermore, unto the next point-

The way that dailies connect us. The joy of sharing them! The laughs, lols, and rofls that they can bring to our dull daily lives! The way that they inspire us to inspire others, to share about ourselves, to become more open. Dailies are truly a beautiful thing, and it would be a horror to all SWCer’s to loose them. I haven’t even mentioned traditional values brought by dailies, and I would include more points, but I’m afraid I have to go join the mango strike and prepare to commit some serious arson if the situation doesn’t change soon.

JWC daily January 5:

Ivan pushed open the trapdoor leading into the attic, pushing past boxes and through the door at the back.
“Where are you?” he asked, reaching for the string to turn on the lights. The attic hadn’t yet been renovated to include motion sensored lights and automated voices. He supposed that his father didn’t think it necessary, as no one came up here anyways. No one that he knew about, that is. He found the string in the dim light and pulled, letting the bulb bring the room to life. Boxes and metal parts and tools were spread messily across the floor, and sprawled in the center of it was a girl.
“Zoe!” He cried, carefully stepping over to her. He grabbed the cord lying on the ground and plugged it into her wrist. A few seconds passed before a fan turned on and he could hear her system booting up. After a few seconds she blinked twice, focusing on him.
“Ivan,” she said, sitting up and looking around. “It’s 1200 already?”
“You forgot to charge again,” He told her. “What are you working on anyways?”
“I don’t forget. I can’t forget. I just run out of power before I actually do it.”
“Right, you don’t forget, you just procrastinate,”
“Exactly, but look what I made!” she exclaimed, lifting something shiny out of the mess of tools and metal. She tugged the cord out of her wrist and plugged it into the object. Two blue lights lit up, and she unplugged it and placed it on the floor.
“A mouse!” Ivan exclaimed.
“The cat will need entertainment when I finish it,” she said as they watched the little rodent skitter around, gears and belts whirring and wires sparking. She pushed her long black hair behind her ears, then picked up a screwdriver and a control panel, adjusting some wires.
“I brought you the news,” Ivan said, and she turned her attention to him. He handed over the newspaper. “Apparently there was a robbery down at the bank on Tenth.” Her eyes skimmed quickly over the pages. She stopped at the top of an article.
“There was a cyborg strike at one of the factories,” she stated. “A lot of them were fired.”
“Really? I hadn’t gotten to that article, let me see-” he replied, taking the paper. “Fifty cyborg workers left jobless after a failed work strike in sector 3a - that’s our factory!”
“Keep reading,” she told him, absently picking up the control panel again and fiddling with the wires.
“Company officials claim that the reasons for the strike were unfounded and they’re hiring any unemployed cyborgs in the section - They’re speculating that they might even hire some transfers from 3b! Imagine that,” he flipped the page and continued, “If strikes continue, companies may have to take more desperate action - what’s that supposed to mean? And I thought cyborg work was mandatory, how can they be fired?”
“Rhetorical or not?” Zoe asked.
“Well, I don’t expect you to know the answer. Do you?”
“No.”
“Alright then. Interesting news. Oh, and look - they’re lowering the commercial cyborg working age to fourteen years. Bastian could be a factory worker now, couldn’t he?”
“He’s not fourteen for another month.”
“Oh, right. I wonder who’ll cover his paper route.”

JWC daily January 8:


mentions of v!olence/de@th/bombs

I stare around our little group. We’re all ready for the reaping - as ready as we can be. My name’s going to be called - children of the capitol officials, that’s who they said the names will be reaped from. I’m the granddaughter of Snow. Of course it’ll be me. It’ll be fine. Milo, Brick, and River can handle the gang. Everyone will be fine. They know what to do. And I can win. I try to convince myself. I don’t. We all head to the city center, past the boarded up windows and broken storefronts, in some places having to climb over rubble. Parts of the side streets are gone, leaving gaping holes, or so full of rubble that you can’t get through. We finally get to the plaza that was bombed only weeks ago, where the capitol children kept there died. They did a census when it was all over. We could’ve avoided it. Could’ve hidden. But we didn’t know about the 76th hunger games then. Capitol women are crying for the children, children wearing ridiculous outfits fill the square, intermingled with those in pajamas and street clothes. So many people lost their homes in the battle. The Battle of the Capitol, they’re calling it. Refugees forced to flee, some getting killed by the pods Snow put out. Some say he turned the Capitol into an arena. I agree with them. It’s crazy. Weeks ago, these people were laughing and betting and calling for more blood in the 75th games. Now that it’s their children, grandchildren, friends, neighbors that might be in the games, now they’re scared. At least now they know how the people in the districts felt. In a way, I’m glad Snow won’t be here. I wouldn’t want to see him pretend to be sad for me. But I wouldn’t want to see that he doesn’t care either. It’s better that he’s gone. Finally, a ridiculous looking lady steps up onto the stage. She reminds me of Effie Trinket, the district 12 reaper, but it’s not. She’s younger, more sober. There’s a speech from the new president, and finally the not-Effie steps forward to one of the bowls. Time for the reaping.

JWC daily January 24:

TW: mentions of death, war, etc.

I push out of the trees and into the field, where I can just see the sun starting to rise over the mountains, bringing a new day, new light, but it doesn’t matter as darkness feels like it’s taking over. I’m trying to catch my breath but I can’t and my head is pounding. Not him, not Jude. Not any of us. This is stupid. This is stupid. I know it. They know it. The districts know it. So why are we even here? I know that it’s probably futile, that they’ll just cut me out, that they’re probably focused on- well, whatever. I can try. I have to try. I have to try something. So I do.
“How is this accomplishing anything? What’s the point? What are you trying to do?” I ask, knowing there are cameras, hoping that they are listening to me. “The first war, the games, the rebellion, everything- what’s it even for if we just keep hurting each other? The games were a punishment for those who fought for peace, for the districts, and you know how it feels - you know how it feels to watch your friends and your family leave and know that they might never come back, or to come back and be called a victor when maybe you wish you’d died instead of someone else. And you want to punish someone. You want others to share your pain. So you blame us. And this is what happens. But Snow is dead. The creators of the games are dead. We’re not the ones you should be blaming.” I stare around.
“The survivors of district 12 and 13 know what it’s like to have their homes destroyed, all of you have seen soldiers march through and destruction and violence reign. But so have we. The capitol became the warzone. Buildings reduced to rubble, thousands of people misplaced, more dead, the weapons our own president planted among us hurt us just as much as they hurt your soldiers. And what did we do to deserve that? Nothing.” I’m starting to cry, and a part of me hates it, but a part of me is okay with it.
“I’m here because Snow is my Grandfather. We all knew my name would be drawn. But why am I punished for what he did? I ran away from him when I was 11 years old - the sole witness of Cassius Snow’s murder. And who do you think killed my father? And the others - they weren’t even in the bowl. They never would have been reaped. They shouldn’t be here, but they took someone else’s place, knowing what would happen. Ember and Amber want to be fashion designers. ____________. And Jude is just a kid. Who knows what he could be? He doesn’t deserve anything that’s happened to him. And we all know that you can save him. We’ve seen the victors taken from the arena on the brink of death, only to be perfect - on the outside at least - just a few days later. We know you can do it. So just do it! Everyone else is dead. We aren’t killing each other to get out of here. You’ll have to kill us all off yourself. And then that’s on you. Or, you could just end this pointless game once and for all. You could end this.” I’m done. I tried. And I wait. There’s a snap, and I spin around to see Milo standing at the edge of the trees.
“Cass, you should– Jude- Jude wants to see you,” He says, and I just nod mutely and follow him. It doesn’t matter what he heard. Especially since it seems like maybe he’s the only one.

March 1st: 1k word intros

Hi wonderful SWC people! It’s the first day so guess what it’s time for - 1000 word intros (aka the part where SWCers ramble or rant about themselves, or not, for 1000 words or more BECAUSE WE WANT TO). Hmm I suppose I should actually do the introduction part of this. You can call me Lily, I’m 13 years old, and I use she/her pronouns. I’m a Catholic and a Canadian and my time zone is PST. This is my seventh session of SWC - I’ve been a camper in July 2021, July 2022, November 2022 (DISCOPAIN LIVES ON), March 2023, July 2023, November 2023, and finally now, March 2024 - yes it’s 2024 already, I don’t want to believe it either - I really like SWC. I’m was equally excited for this session and kinda dreading it because it means march is starting and march starting means show week - I’m in my school musical, Shrek the Musical, as ensemble and Little Pig #2 (So I’m the normal pig, pig #1 is the dumb pig with good memory and pig #3 is the smart pig with bad memory, and they’re both great) which has been super fun but also stressful because we like just learned choreography yesterday that we’re performing wednesday but anyways. Musical has been a wild and crazy ride and I’m super excited - and also happy that now I’m a SWC theatre kid D. I’m also in 4 choirs and drama. Outside the fine arts I like to read, write, draw, watch movies, listen to music, hang out outside and with animals and friends and family (not necessarily in that order xD), and rant about fiction! Like actually I spend so much time talking about books and movies and characters and plots and places and words and yes I just love fiction okay. Only like 700 more words to go lets gooo. Hmm what else yeah I live in Canada always have probably always will, I really love it here I love the BC forests and mountains. Canada’s an awesome country, there should be more books set here it makes me sad most of the books I read are set in the US - I mean the US is great but I want books set here not in New York okay. Anyways, moving on from that tangent- I have four siblings, 1 older sister, 2 younger, and then there’s my brother the youngest (yep four girls and then a boy, yes he is insane. We all are). OH yeah, I’m insane you should know that xDD. Hmmm what else what else we have a cat, his name is Jude and he’s kinda a grey tabby with a white neck and belly and bottom half of face and cute little white mittens on his paws (and mittens makes me think of Amity from the owl house because MITTENS) and oh yeah I live in a world of book/movie/song/musical/etc references I swear everything makes me think of something else. It’s fun except when I leave people behind and then they don’t understand xD. I like Rick Riordan’s books (PJO, HOO, TOA, Kane) and lots of other books so many books, the hunger games and artemis fowl and wings of fire and the wingfeather saga and divergent and lots of authors like Kasie West and Wendy Mass and Rick Riordan of course and so many other books and my favourite TV shows are probably the Owl House, Dragons: Race to the Edge, and Once Upon a Time (basically the only two tv shows - that aren’t like, paw patrol or little kid shows when I was younger or because my siblings were watching them - I’ve seen but anyways) And ooo movies, I like MCU (my favourites right now being the spiderman movies, Guardians of the Galaxy volume 3 - yes specifically volume 3 - infinity war, and endgame), most disney movies but not all, lots of different dreamworks movies like How to Train Your Dragon, and then a whole pile of other movies. For music I’ll listen to almost anything if I’m being honest, some of my favourite songs at the moment are Carried Away (Shawn Mendes), Ship in a Bottle, Fix you, and oh ofc there’s musicals - I like Epic: the Musical (favourite songs being… a lot some are Open Arms, My Goodbye, Ruthlessness) wow now only 725 words total… time for 275 more! Oh right more musicals, lets see, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, etc, And I like Wait for me and Defying Gravity and should probably see or listen to the rest of those musicals but um I haven’t yet so– arg come on I can’t run out of steam now what’s more stuff about me. Let’s do some more favourites because that’s been a theme - my favourite colour is blue, favourite weather is sunny but cool and kinda dotted with clouds, favourite season is summer, favourite animals are felines and canines and whichever of those foxes fall in xD, and my favourite sport is track and field. I compete in track and field, this is going to be my fourth year, and depending on the year I do different things - usually some combination of sprints, high jump, shot put, discus throw, basically by whatever practices I can get to and then at meets I compete in what I can. Do not try to do three events at the same time, do not even try to do two events at the same time at a meet. Just pick one. Because it sucks. I know from experience. Anyways, 75 more words! I really like to write and I’ll write in almost any genre just like how I read in any genre, but mainly some sort of real fi or fantasy, and I have wayy way way too many stories and characters and worlds in my head and one day they will break out and take over the world but it is NOT THIS DAY *and now I want to qoute the lord of the rings but I feel like it wouldn’t count* anyways, I’ve finished my 1000 words but “ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY” write a 1000 word intro (Boromir xDD)

1027 words

Daily March 14, 580 words

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Because to me she was. She was beautiful and perfect and wonderful and I never wanted anything bad to happen to her. I wanted to hold her close to my chest and protect her from this imperfect world and all its dangers and tragedies. I knew I couldn’t, but that just means I’d have to teach her and raise her so that she would be ready for the world. But not yet. Right now, she was just my little star.

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. The tears streamed down her face as I brushed the dirt off her knee, gently kissing it better. I wished all injuries were that easily mended. I wished all problems were that easily solved. I wished that my kisses would always be magic that mended every ouch and that a few words would always soothe so easily, but of course wishes don’t really come true.

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. New things are hard and it would be so much easier if things would just stay the same - if she were always my precious little baby that I could protect from the world - though I know that that’s impossible, and that she deserves to grow up and learn, even if it’s hard at first - sometimes - a lot of the time. She can do this, my little star. She is strong.

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. I let her cry like I know she needed, and I tried to think back to what I wanted when I was feeling like her, what I would’ve needed to hear, and I try to say the right thing, because I can’t stand for her to feel this way - I can’t stand for her to cry. She is beautiful and precious and so, so, so loved. I hope she can see that, my star.

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. She needed me, but she pushed me away, because she wasn’t my little baby star anymore, she was older and harder and I wished I could have protected her better from this. I wish she didn’t have to feel any pain. I wish I could take her heart and hide it away where it could never be given or stolen or broken ever again. But that wouldn’t really be helping. And wishes don’t really come true.

I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And I cried because I had failed. I hadn’t protected her well enough. I hadn’t done anything right. She was beautiful and perfect and so so so loved, and she hadn’t known it and she hadn't believed it and now it was too late. Now I could never again hope to protect her. My precious little star was gone.

Daily march 15: 450 words

I stared at the cloaked figure.
“I’m… I’m going to-”
“No.”
“W-what?” I turn to Zayd as he shoves the figure so he has to take a step back.
“No.” He repeats. “Prince isn’t dying. Not tonight. Not for a very long time.”
“You can’t change destiny,” is the figure’s vague reply.
“Well you can take. your. destiny. back.” Zayd says, poking the caped figure in the chest with each word. It dawns on me that I’ve never seen him acting this angry. “It’s not his.”
“You can’t change it,” the figure repeats, and then he’s gone, faster than I would’ve thought possible. We’ve seen a lot of the impossible. Zayd spins to me, fire in his eyes.
“You’re not dying. Not if I can help it.”
“It’s- it’s okay. I mean, I knew- we knew- this was always a last chance, right? I’ve had months to prepare for this, I just didn’t think or expect or-”
“No. We’re here because we’re fixing you- it- we’re stopping it, alright?” And then I see it. Hiding underneath the fire. He’s not angry. He’s pleading. With me. With himself. With the world, even.
“Zayd-” I say, placing a hands on his shoulders so I can stare right into those eyes, and he doesn’t flinch or look away. “You’re going to be okay.”
“What- that’s not- I-” and then the tears fall, and I pull him in, and he sobs into my shoulder for a moment. Then there’s a deep breath and he settles himself, ready now. Or at least ready to pretend to be ready. That’s all we can really ask for, most of the time.
“Come on. We have a destiny to thwart,” he says, turning towards the sunrise and the mountain, the light painting shadows across the determination on his face. And I don’t argue with him, even if this hope might come back to bite him. I don’t want him to be hopeful and then crushed. I wonder for a moment how soon it’s coming. Do I have minutes, or hours? The sun’s barely risen… will I be here to see another sunset? Or was last night’s my last? I try to push the thoughts away- I’ll just cherish every hour, every minute I have. And maybe Zayd’s right. Maybe we will thwart destiny. Maybe we’ll both live another day, another year, maybe we have a whole lifetime. I hope we never say goodbye to each other, and I know it’s not fair, but I hope I go first… I don’t think I could say goodbye to him. I wipe a tear off my cheek. It’ll be fine. I’ll convince myself that it’ll be fine. We’ll both be fine.

Character Reference Sheet:

Full name: Jorge Arellano-Smith (yep Smith, deal with it)
Nickname: Jay (which you'd probably think IS his name bc he's not gonna tell you it's Jorge)
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Romantic orientation: Straight
Height: 5'2" (but claims he's taller ofc)
Build: Wiry
Hair: Wavy, Brown, longer in the front and sides and always messy
Eyes: Brown, big, a little mischevious
Markings/scars: light brown freckles on face/body (but not a lot), small scar on left eyebrow and chin (yup matching eyebrow scars).
Clothing: Mostly cargo pants and tees, also has a favorite jacket and likes sunglasses
Family: Big brother (23), twin little sisters (16) and younger brother (14), but large age gaps so still kinda lonely. Parents split up when he was 12 so that's fun/sarc. Big family on his mom's side, some family that he kinda never sees on his dad's side.
Nationality: A little everything, but mainly hispanic (mexican-mom) european (german/irish/british/etc-dad) american.
Birthday: May 5, 1995
Health conditions: Severe nut allergy, mild animal allergies (but loves and pets them anyways)
Job: Unemployed
Hopes/Dreams: Always joked he'd be a comedian, but still hasn't really settled on a career (currently in a gap year, needs to figure out college but of course he's procrastinating that)
Interests/hobbies: Drawing, Animals, Daredevil stunts (cliff jumping, crazy amuzement park rides, etc), Watching/Re-watching/Binge Watching TV shows (even if ppl would say he's too old for them now), watching musicals.
Flaws: He's a reckless chaotic human! Tho in seriousness too reckless and sometimes doesn't care as much as he should about his well being. Doesn't recognize his limits enough and it's kinda a problem. Stuffs his emotions away in a box, also not healthy. Wayy too funny and handsome for his own good/j Also way too good at procrastinating, and kinda disorganized and forgets where he puts his stuff.
Coping mechanisms: Making light of his situation, humor in general, fidgeting.
Talents: Drawing, musical theatre and comedy (or at least he thinks so…)
Habits: Getting lost in thought, cracking jokes at bad times, humming musical songs.
Fears: Thassalaphobia ('the ocean' or more specifically, scary things you can't see swimming in dark water around you), also Autophobia (but more on the everyone-hating-or-ignoring-me side), Arachnophobia (spiders, but hides it as best he can bc teasing siblings)
Prized possession: His jacket, given to him by his dad back when they had a working relationship (if they ever did…)
Sociability level: probably like an 8/10 because he's so humourous, but he feels like he's like a 3/10 because insecurity.
Powers/abilities: None, just a lil human bean, unless you count his incredible humor and good looks/j
Best experience: Grade 12 school musical
Worst experience: Parents breaking up (wow they both have parent issues that's fun)
Personality: Really funny dude who's just trying to cheer everyone up, and make sure that they're okay, but is usually feeling terrible about himself inside and maybe that's why he's so reckless (ok that got depressing)
Distinguishing trait: freckles? jacket?

… Now he's basically just the Keefe Sencen/Leo Valdez character type – humourous trauma boy.

Daily March 23: 535 words

From the road, through the gap in the low, mossy stone wall, you travel up a dirt path between two great oak trees, arriving at the round oak door. It has a round gold door knob and a round window with a cross in it at just the right height to peek through. It opens into a round room, with hooks of varying heights along the wall to hang cloaks and coats, and shoes and boots lined up below them, and three archways branching off to the right, left, and centre.
Turning right will lead you to a quaint kitchen. A cool stone tiled floor. Matching oak cabinets. A fire blazing cheerfully under a bubbling pot. The window above the sink is open to let in the breeze, and a kettle is boiling for tea. Through a doorway you arrive in a dining room, with a long oval table that has plenty of room for guests, though off to the side is a sliding door to the breakfast room, with a little table for just a few and big windows looking out to the garden.
Inside the stone wall covered in moss, creeping ivy, and flowering honeysuckle, tomato and onion and bean plants sit in neat rows, the fruits of their harvest destined for the pantry, while other beds, separated from the kitchen gardens by a stream with a quaint bridge, hold daffy-down-dillies, peonies, delphiniums, lavender, and other garden flowers, and roses climb a trellis along the wall of the house. Bees buzz merrily among flitting butterflies. Over it all, a weeping willow hangs her boughs, little primroses blooming around her roots.
Back inside and past the dining room is the pantry, and quite a pantry it is, filled with bread and cheese and fruit, cookies and cocoa and flour, baking powder and biscuits, potatoes and onions, and boxes of teas and jars of honey. Coming out of the pantry and through the dining room to the right, you’ll find yourself in the library that the centre door of the entryway was leading you too, with a cozy fire, pictures on the mantel, large windows with window seats and soft, gauzy curtains, and a large couch, soft rug, and comfy armchairs. Bookshelves line all available wallspace, filled with tomes of all subjects and sizes, from classics to romances, adventures to mysteries, to thick serious dictionaries and encyclopedias. Finally, past all the rest of the house, you’ll reach the cozy bedrooms, each personalised to their inhabitants, the washrooms, and the storage room.
Though if you cared to look in one subtle closet, you’d find the stairs to the attic, filled with boxes and secrets and little cubbyholes, and a trapdoor to lead you to a cozy little nook behind a shelf in the library, the best for secret reading at night, or listening into whispered conversations… In truth, the entirety of the little house is filled with passages and riddles, a little door behind the rosebush, the perfect passageway to pinch a pie from the pantry, the best peepholes for spying on an unsuspecting caller. At first glance, cozy, at second glance, quaint, at third glance, perhaps just a little mysterious, and overall, very very curious.

Here is my rather messy speedrun weekly:

Part 1: 281/250 words

Exposition / Inciting Incident:
On monday, March the 3rd, the Cake was stolen. It was a birthday cake for the two very mischievous twins. At first, they were the main suspects, but they seemed too distraught over the loss to be guilty. A few others were already in the house at the time - the parents, the siblings, and the two best friends of the twins.
Rising Action
As a way to cheer up the distraught twins, they turned this little problem into a full fledged mystery. The twins became the main detectives, suspecting everyone and searching the entire house for clues. Several red herrings and clues turn up, pointing to everyone and the cat. Things seem to be more complicated then they seemed.
Climax
As everything falls apart in a huge mess, it’s finally revealed that the twins were the culprits all along, and simply wanted a mystery for their birthday. They didn’t know that things would so quickly get out of hand! Everyone has mixed emotions on this turn of events, but focus on the task at hand.
Falling Action
With the help of all the houseguests, items are returned to their rightful owners, apologies are made, the cat is found, a new cake is baked, and a wonderful cake it is too, and in general everything is back in its rightful place and things are returning to normal. Everything is fine. …Or is it?
Conclusion
As the guests settle in to enjoy the party, barking is heard from the back of the house, followed by lots of shouting. The partygoers rush to see what might have caused all of the ruckus. Perhaps it was just a stray dog…. Or perhaps this time, there’s a true mystery to be solved.

Part 2: 221 /200 words

Red Herring number 1: Chocolate on mother’s hands and face. Jumped to the conclusion that this meant she had eaten the cake, however, it is soon revealed that she baked the cake, and simply was in too much of a hurry and rush to wash up afterwards, leaving chocolate stains on her hands and face.
Clue number 1: The twins are overly eager to begin the investigation. They provoke the suggestion of it, and then speedily jump on the chance, getting into it very quickly and go rather over the top. This is also a red herring in a way, making it seem like it isn’t them.
Red Herring 2: The missing Cat. There are pawprints in the kitchen, where the cake was, and it is suspected that she may be hiding because she’s guilty, after all, why else would she run from the scene of the crime? It’s later revealed that she had kittens, another distraction from the case at hand.
Clue number 2: Grandpa’s diet. It is suspected that he may have stolen the cake, since he wouldn’t have gotten any if he asked, due to his diet. This creates a huge conflict, everyone becoming very defensive and angry at the twins for even suggesting such a thing of their grandfather. In the end the twins apologize to him.

Part 3: 327/200 words

MY PART:

“Please state your name and where you were this morning, monday, March the 3rd.” The interviewer asks seriously.

“Tilly, you look so nervous. Do you want some donuts?” The interviewer asks, pushing a plate of donuts across the table. Which is definitely normal and happens all the time.

“If you were at the mango mart, wouldn't you have had mangoes already, and thus not be hungry? I'm starting to wonder about you're alibi, Tilly.” The interviewer says with a slight smile. Who's side is she on anyways?

“Interesting, very interesting.” The interviewer replies, steepling her fingers. “And the reason that you haven't eaten your mangoes certainly isn't because you were the one who ate the cake, for said party? and were subsequently too full to eat any mangoes?”

“Well that's the real reason we're here, isn't it? You're alibi is flimsy, more of a clue pointing to you than anything else, and you're literally the sole suspect of this case. Any more obvious, and you'd have a trail of cake crubs, along with the chocolate icing on your face!” The interviewer points condemningly.

“So you admit that you were at the scene of the crime!“ The interviewer says, grinning.

”Very convienient… almost too convienient…“ The interviewer says, then continues ”But I ask you this: How would you know how long after you left the cake was brought out? How did you know it was strawberry- yes, yes I heard that, and finally, how did you know about the pinata?“
”And if I texted Maya right now, she'd be able to confirm that fact?“ The interviewer asks, pulling out a cellphone.

”Is that so?“ The interviewer says. ”Alright then, we'll leave her out of this - although that's another strike against you, very suspicious behaviour. Tilly.“

”Is that so…“ the interviewer says, suspicious. ”You seem a little too-“ suddenly, she bursts into a fit of giggles. ”Aww, I can't keep this up- it's me!“ Maya takes off her sunglasses.

—-
@sweetcakefamily’s Part:
”My name is Tilly,“ the interviewee replied, hoping she didn't look suspicious. ”I was grocery shopping at Mango Mart this morning.“
”Uhm- sure,“ Tilly replied, cautiously reaching over to take one.
”I haven't eaten the mangoes yet,“ Tilly replied firmly. ”I bought them to save for later- for a party my neighbour is hosting.“ Tilly frowned. ”Of course not. Why would I do that?“
”I thought it was strawberry..?“ Tilly mumbled, before her eyes widened. ”Actually, I don't know what you're talking about…I haven't been to my neighbour's backyard where they're setting up the party, not since yesterday.“”No, no, not when it happened! Before,“ Tilly retorted. ”I came over yesterday to help them set up. They brought out the cake a few minutes before I left, so I wouldn't have had time to eat it!“
”Maya, the neighbour, sent me a picture of it and said so in her text. Um, I meant I THOUGHT it would be strawberry, because Maya said she wanted a strawberry cake- and what pinata?“”Oh, the pink pinata?“ Tilly perked up. ”Because I bought it for them. I'm no cake thief.“
”Um, maybe, but she won't answer, she's busy!“ Tilly replied hastily. ”I don't think there's any need to bother her!“
”No suspicious behaviour going on here, I can assure you," Tilly said, breathing a sigh.


Part 4: 690/550 words

“Maya! Jayden! Come in here!” Their mother called from the other room. They ran in, flopping onto the couch, grinning.
“What is it?” Maya asked.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this?” Their mother asked, holding up the cake platter, licked clean. They stared at it with expressions of shock and surprise. Maya burst into tears and ran out of the room.
“What happened to our cake?” Jayden cried. “It was so beautiful!”
“Well…” their mother said, looking surprised, “I thought the two of you ate it, but I suppose not…”
“Who’d do something like this, on our birthday!” He complained. “They should be brought to justice!”
“I don’t know… maybe you two should find out,” she suggested.
“Yeah!” He said, brightening. “I’ll go get Maya!”

Minutes later they had everyone gathered in the living room. Jayden paced back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, while Maya offered the occupants party snacks.
“We’ve called you all here for a very serious matter,” Jayden said. “Our cake has been stolen, and we will find the culprit!” The room’s occupants look around, wondering if this is something to be taken seriously. Sophia giggles. Jayden stomps up to her.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” He demands, looking at her over his dark sunglasses.
“She’s just a toddler, Jayden,” Their mom says.
“Show us your hands!” He announces, and they carefully examine everyone.
“No incriminating chocolate to be found…” Maya says.
“Time for questioning!” Jayden declares.

People are getting impatient as this mystery drags on, so when Katie runs in, everyone welcomes the distraction.
“I can’t find pickles!” She sobs.
“A new suspect!” Jayden declares.
“Me?” She asks.
“No, Pickles! He’s been acting strange for weeks, and I saw him at the scene of the crime… now he’s gone! Only someone guilty would run!”
“Jayden,” their mom says. “I don’t think that the cat ate your birthday cake.” Still, the search is on, all through the house they look. Finally they discover him in a sock drawer… with a litter of kittens? Their father looks annoyed, but mom just laughs.
“I guess Pickles is a she, not a he!” She cries.
“And I guess that provides her with the perfect alibi… we need a new suspect!” Jayden declares.
“Wait, I know!” Maya cries, then whispers something in his ear. He nods, and they race back down the stairs and onto the porch, slamming the door behind them.

Jayden and Maya are sitting on the couch, scribbling notes and tacking things with red string, when their mother comes down to meet them.
“Your grandfather is very upset,” she says. They don’t answer. “Why would you accuse him of stealing your cake? This is getting really out of hand!”
Maya reaches over to grab a cookie off a plate.
“You two need to apologise to your Grandpa,” their mom says.
“But mom, we can’t cross anyone off the list of suspects!” Jayden finally complains.
“Your grandpa is not a suspect… and I think you two know who’s really guilty,” She says, raising an eyebrow at them. “Enough of this charade. It’s time to come clean.”

Everyone gathers back in the living room, although it was hard to drag some of them away from the new kittens upstairs. Jayden and Maya stand together in the centre of the room. Their mom waves her hand, and Maya sighs.
“Here’s the cake,” she says, pulling it out from under the table. “No one really ate it.”
“We’re sorry we accused people,” Jayden says. “Especially you, Grandpa.”
He just huffs in reply, but the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.
“We wanted to have a mystery for our birthday,” Maya explains.
“Yeah, and be like real detectives!” Jayden adds.
“But things did get out of hand…” Maya says.
“So we’re sorry,” Jayden finishes. Everyone sighs with relief that all the mystery business is over.
“Mom’s the real detective anyways,” Maya adds. “She’s the one that figured out it was us the whole time!” This is followed by a chorus of “I knew too” and “No, it was pretty obvious,” leaving the twins glaring and blushing.

The Princess Who Would Not Be Given Away
A Daily for March 28, 2024
502 words

When I was a child, I read all the fairytales, telling of the perfect princesses who did the perfect things and found their perfect match. They sat and they waited and then along came someone to marry them - perhaps a prince, perhaps a pure-hearted boy, or perhaps someone who lies and tricks, but is apparently fine anyways. And then there was me. Sitting on the top of a glass hill with three golden apples in my lap, day in and day out, watching as all those oafs attempted the impossible task of riding a horse up the hill. Stupid.

Finally, one of them made his way to the top. So now I am to marry him. Of course. After all, he did the ridiculous task, so obviously he must be worthy of my hand and half of my kingdom. Well, too bad. Now that I’m not stuck on that hill, I can finally do something with my life. Because, you see, I don’t care that he did it. Good effort and all. Nice horses and armor. But that doesn’t make him the right man for me. Honestly, I don’t want to marry yet. Maybe not ever. So that’s why I’m going to do this. Today.

I close my diary and stretch my arms above my head. My wedding is tomorrow. They planned it and prepped it and rushed around fussing. They made my dress. They prepared the orchestra. Did they ask me any of my opinions about my wedding? No. But it doesn’t matter anyways. I get out of my cozy bed and pick up the box that was dropped off last night. Early wedding present they thought. In a way, I suppose that it is.

I open it, carefully lining everything up on my bed. Then I get started. Dressing in the simple, comfortable commoner’s clothing. Packing the things I need from my room in the bag. Plaiting my hair into a messy braid down my back, leaving strands to hang around my face. Finally, I pull on my boots and look around the room. I’ve barely spent any time here - just the nights, sleeping between the rides to and from the glass hill. It was never home, and now it’s time to go. I slip into the servants stairway, scurrying quickly down and out of the palace, until I reach the glass hill.

She’s waiting for me there. I smile when I see her. All of those oafs trying to climb it on their horses, while she and I signed to each other - her sitting in her tree, me on my hill. I haven’t had a lot of time for learning in my life - by the time I was 12 years old, I was stuck on that hill - but that was plenty of time to learn how to sign. It proved to be a useful skill. She hops out of her tree when she sees me, grinning. Time for some new adventures.

Daily March 29:

Mia reaches over and squeezes my hand. I squeeze it back, but my hands are still shaking.
“The tension is killing me!” She whispers, which prompts a laugh from me… or maybe it’s just the nerves.
“I’m the one finding out my power, not you,” I whisper back. We didn’t even know I was a power before today. It’s terrible that she’s not too, but she was never sad or angry at all.
“I know, but still!”
“…why are we whispering anyways?”
“It seemed like the right thing to do.”
I just nod. She opens her mouth to say something, but the door opens. There it is. The amulet that’s going to give me my power.
“Do I just… take it?” I ask. She laughs.
“Of course, you doofus! Put it on!”
Even in the limited time since we found out, we’ve talked so much about what it might be. Time to find out I guess. I can feel the anticipation everywhere, my hands shaking as I lift it up and put it over my head and– nothing. I feel normal - better than a moment ago, actually. I turn to Mia.
“Nothing hap-” I stop. Her face has gone pale and she’s slumped against the wall. “What’s wrong?” I ask. She breathes shakily.
“I don’t… know….” she says. I turn to ask Liann- she’s the adult here. But she’s wobbling on her feet, and I just catch her as she falls. As soon as she touches me, she slumps completely, eyes closed.
“Help!” I yell. I don’t understand- what’s happening- why- Two more people run in.
“What happened?” The first asks, while the other runs over to check on me. As soon as she touches my arm, she slumps against me, and I can barely hold her up. The man stares at me. Takes a step forward. Puts a hand to his chest. Backs up, out of the room.
“How… what are you doing?” He asks.
“What?”
“I’d think there’s something in the air… but you’re fine… so it must be you…” then his eyes land on my chest. My amulet. Is it- no- it can’t be-
I take it off with shaky hands. Immediately, I feel exhausted. Both the unconscious women groan and sit up. I turn to see Mia blink groggily.
“W-whatishap-” she asks, but I cut her off with a tight hug. The man’s words chill me.
“Back up.” I do, confused. But I think I know why.
“It’s… it’s the amulet isn’t it?” I say. I feel sick. “I did that.”
“What happened?” Mia demands, shooting to her feet. She wobbles and I catch her.
“That-” I say miserably. “My amulet- it- I- I don’t know why but you, and them- and-” I’m crying now and I don’t know why. Because I can’t use my amulet? Because they got hurt? Because I hurt them? Or because I felt so good while it was happening?

Just Give Me a Chance

Please
Please
Please

I know you’re there
Somebody listening
I know that you are
Please come and help me
if you’re not too far
I know that you care

I hope that you care

Please
Please
Please

Give me a reason to
Keep on trying
I’m crying and screaming
I know I wasn’t dreaming
I know that you’re there
Listening

So just give me a chance
A moment to prove
I don’t want to lose
I’m fighting and trying
To stay
Alive and sane

I know that you hear me

So please just give me a reason
to keep on trying
Giving and living
And just not dying
Dying
Dying

I’m at the end of my rope
So please just give me something to grasp
One last chance
One last hope

I need someone to rely on
A shoulder to cry on
A hand to hold
Someone who knows
My pain

Please
Please
Please
Give me a reason to stay, to,
To just keep breathing
Endless
Trying
Giving
Living not dying
And asking why

Cause I’ve been crying screaming
I know I wasn’t dreaming
You’re there
Somewhere out there
Somewhere out there
You’re there
And I know that you care
So please
Please
Please

Please just give me a chance
One last chance
I’m at the end of my rope
Give me something to grasp
Something to hold
A glimmer of hope

I know that I don’t deserve it
At all
I know that I deserve to fall
But please
Just
give me a moment
a chance
a reason
Something to grasp

Why should I keep trying
Why should I keep living
Why shouldn’t I die
Why should I keep giving

I’m at the end of my rope
Just give me some hope
And please

Please

Please

Give me a hand
Something to grasp
I’m at the end of my rope
I just need a chance

I know someone must be there
I still believe you that care
After all that I’ve faced

All I need is a chance
A moment
At the end of my rope
Just give me something to grasp
A reason to just keep trying
Living not dying
Giving all that I have

Please

Please

Please

Just give me a chance.

Thankyou notes (may be added to in the future, we'll see)

First of all, I know that if you read them all I’ll probably sound repetitive and I’m sorry for that, but it’s kinda true that everyone here is kind and amazing. I’m also sorry if you look and you’re not here, everyone in SWC is amazing and I hope someday I’ll get to know all of you well enough to write thousand-word thank you letters to at the end of the session <33

My wonderful leaders! (@iinspirqtion, @Xx_Hermione_xX, @starr-light)

Thank you so much for an amazing session! You created such a fun and memorable cabin, and even if we didn’t escape the woods, we got close. The storyline and activities were very cool and the overall aesthetic was great. Apart from the cabin, you were all such wonderful, kind, and engaged leaders and great people, and I’m excited to see what sort of cabins you might be leading in the future and to get to know you better .

All my many cabin mates!

You guys were great! Thanks for holding down the fort during cabinwars (why am I never online for them :sobs and helping try to escape the woods… we will someday, I’m sure. Until then, honestly, you guys are pretty great people to be stuck with.

Nova (@Novanuhea123):

Thanks a lot for eating our cabin T-T. You’re a very creative and funny penguin- I mean person- um anyways, I’ve loved talking to you this session (and it's been fun messing with you). Don’t worry though, I’m not actually going to take over Mythsy. Probably.

Tilly (@sweetcakefamily):

Hello my fellow Discopain member -yes yes I know that’s not this session, but still- You’re super fun, and SWC wouldn’t be the same without you. Thank you so much for your wonderful interview, you were super fun to work with, and just in general you’re a wonderful person . I hope to see you in many future sessions.

Bella (@-Wraiith)

I know you’ve been dealing with a lot this session, and I just want to say that you’re amazing and cool and kind and SWC wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here with us <33

Poppy (@PoppyWriter)

You’re very funny and kind and a great leader (even if you weren’t mine)! I hope someday you get over your fear of cows, they can be really adorable, and I thank you for all the words you’ve added for me and your dedication to camp!

Chloe (@smartypantschlo )

You’re apples sure stirred up a lot of trouble… I’m still not sure if I have any sideeffects from the one I ate, but I guess I’ll take your word that it was a normal apple. You started something cool which I think is amazing, and you’re very funny and kind! I hope to see more of you (and maybe also your apples) in future sessions .

History Lesson on the Japanese Canadian Internment

Sit by the radio, listening
Hear of great battles
Make paper planes like the great birds of war,
Think of the day
That you can enlist,
Like your father,
Veteran,
Fight for your country.

Radio tells of Japan
And pearl harbor
Bombs rain down
Suffering follows
For those there, and those still here,
“We are Canadians”
They cry,
But no one seems to listen.

It starts with boats, cameras, radios
Then homes are taken
People are taken
With only what they can carry
Leaving behind a scattered trail
Of memories and broken dreams
Wishing for hope in dark times
Watching as they continue to take and take and take

Forced here and there without explanation
Onto trains that are
Dark, cramped, crowed
The people like cattle
Afraid and uncertain
Arriving at ghost towns and camps
Prisoners hoping for a rescue that never comes
Even though they are not the enemy

This ‘new home’ is not home
Tiny houses like shacks
With relentless heat and cold reaching in
Spend nights
Looking at stars through cracks in the walls
Wishing without a word or answer
Guarded like convicts,
Thought of as spies

For years I was there,
with mother and brother
Father was far, working, suffering
We were prisoners in our own country,
The country that father had served
That grandfather gave his life for
Had they forgotten about all
That we had given?

We had to fight long to be acknowledged,
Gain compensation and apology,
And the ability to come back home
But now we seem forgotten
As they work for truth and reconciliation
They remember pain brought to some
But what about us?
Did we not suffer as well?

Canadian history is larger than just
What people talk of now
There are more stories to be told,
More injustices that were faced,
Many problems still impacting
Those of us still here,
Still living,
Still fighting.

Sometimes I really hate my life.

I just started crying because I couldn't get my bracelet off my wrist. And it's stupid. But one thing happens and then every little thing sets me off. And it's even worse because no one freaking notices. I don't look like I just cried. I mean, yeah, it was just a few quiet tears, but still. No one in my family is going to ask me what's wrong. No one's going to walk over and give me a hug. And even if they did, I'd just say “I'm fine” or “I'm just tired” and would they push and get me to talk about what's really bothering me? No. They just accept it and move on with their lives because of course I'm fine I'm always fine why wouldn't I be anything but freaking fine.

And I don't even know why I'm writing this or why I would even push submit because it's not like somebody's gonna read it it's not like someone's going to notice and care and ask me if I'm really alright and be there for me so that I can talk to them because that's not how it works. I've got no one.

Heck, if someone was reading this, they'd probably think that it's like all the writings above. Fictional. While it's not. This is me. Really. Even if probably no one who knew me would think so because I'm fun and energetic and kind and I'm fine totally fine definitely not struggling or dieing on the inside or anything, because why would I be?

Anyways, that's how I am, how are you?

MMAP April 7th: “Canary in a coal mine”
TWs: mentions of imprisonment/poison/gas/death

As they lower the cage, a lilting voice floats up from the hole, just audible over the clinking of the chains.

Pretty bird fly away…

Everything seems to fall silent even the clinking as the men operating it pause as if entranced- everything save the soft moan of wind and creak of the boards. Then she really starts to sing.

I’m the canary in the coal mine
Sacrificing for the rest
Breathing in the air
And hoping for the best
The best
The best.

They knew that it could kill me
But I’m their warning sign
I know that it might end me
But at least they will be fine.

I feel that I recognize the tune, but I can’t recall where from. It hangs like the memory of a dream at the edge of my consciousness, where my fingers can brush it but I just can’t catch hold.

I’m the canary in the coal mine
Wondering if it’s my last day
Breathing in the dust
I want to fly away
Fly away
Fly away.

Then a soft sound joins the melody. Someone whistling along. And I remember where I’ve heard this song.

They knew that it could kill me
But I’m their warning sign
I know that it might end me
But at least they will be fine.


Esca is sitting on the roof of the shed, eyes closed, his blonde hair ruffling in the wind. Some are turning to stare up at him, but most still seem entranced by her voice.

I’m the canary in the coal mine
With much too little room
Breathing in the poison
Preparing for my doom
My doom
My doom.

That’s when Burgen finally snaps out of it. “Stop that racket at once!” He yells. Esca doesn’t even flinch. Most of the workers seem unchanged. He stares around as if stunned that his order wasn’t immediately obeyed.

They knew that it could kill me
But I’m their warning sign
I know that it might end me
But at least they will be fine.

Burgen storms over to the mechanism, and bellows “Keep lowering!” and the workers holding the chain finally unfreeze. The clinking resumes as she continues to sing.

I’m the canary in the coal mine
Running out of breath
Breathing in the gas
And waiting for my death
My death
My death.

Burgen proceeds to stomp over to the shed, where Esca’s still whistling. I start pushing through people and towards them. “Shut it!” Burgen yells at the boy. He doesn’t react. Burgen reaches up to grab his boot, but is comically short. “Get him down!” Burgen orders two men, who start to climb the ladder.

They knew that it could kill me
But I’m their warning sign
I know that it might end me
But at least they will be fine.

Esca yelps as they push him off the roof, his whistling cutting off. I get there too late to catch him and he slams into the ground. I drop to one knee beside him and he blinks up at me. Just winded.

Pretty bird fly away….

She sings.

“Don’t,” I whisper. He takes a deep breath and finishes with her.

Pretty bird fly away
Or you won’t live another day.