ocular rewritten

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✑ hello, and welcome to my writing thread for the march 2024 session of SWC !
if you don’t know me, my name’s vi, im a christian, twin, x-phile and star wars enthusiast!! currently enjoying procrastinating on school, editing my novel, listening to noah kahan’s new album, waiting in agony (/hj) for the next bad batch episode, and watching and rewatching x files !!! my favorite author is probably brandon sanderson i’m also one of fan-fi’s co leaders and this is my seventh session !! please feel free to say hi or ask me any questions about my writing, swc, my fandoms, or other random stuff <33

✄ cabin: Fan-fi

✑ word goal: 15,000

✄ Link portal
Main Cabin
Fan-fi
Word Adding

✑ contest entry/ies: not finished yet! <3

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daily #2

“But I want one, mommy!” Ansel insisted, stomping his velcro-strapped sneakers on the polished supermarket floors.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as though that would extinguish the headache currently chewing on my brain. Taking my hands off the cart, I turned to face him more completely. I shook my head sternly and said, “Well, if you want one, that’s not how you ask, Zel.”

Blotches of red appeared on his little chubby cheeks as the child contemplated my statement. He stuck out his bottom lip and crossed his arms, then lifted them impetuously with a huff.

“Please, mommy?” he asked, still looking down, a whine still flavoring his voice, but it was good enough for me today.

“All right. Why don’t we pick one out together, then.”

He grinned, though there were still disappointed tears in his eyes. I ruffled his fine blond hair, and he stood on tiptoes, small fingers gripping the edge of the wood.

“Here, this one’s too soft, feel it?” I proffered the overripe fruit in his direction. He nodded sagely as he touched its orange skin.

“Hm.” I considered the rest of our prospects; they weren’t many. We visited the cheapest stores in an attempt to keep the budget down. I sighed, lifting up a too-green mango. “Firm,” I commented, holding it out for him to feel.

“Too firmmm-mum-mm,” Ansel agreed, seeming to like the word.

I scouted around a bit more, looking for any good ones hidden away under the others. Ansel still held the firm one, but he wasn’t strong enough, and—

“Zel!” I yelped, reaching to snatch the mango out of the air, but it was too late.

Splat!

And white, shining tile was suddenly painted bright sunset colors.

“Zel,” I groaned, looking up to the ceiling as though some help would be found there. The fans whir-whir-whired unsympathetically down at me, and the bright lights only hurt my eyes and made my head throb more acutely.

Chastised, I looked down.

His dark eyes were full of tears once more, and he cradled his hands to his chest as though knowing they’d betrayed him and comforting them nonetheless.

“I-it’s okay, Zel. It’s not your fault,” I sighed, brushing his hair from his forehead and rubbing his shoulder as he hugged my leg. “Hush,” I breathed as he began to sob quietly. “Mommy’s gotta go pay for that, okay? Then we should go, and you can watch an episode of Paw Patrol before dinner, okay?”

“B-but what about the mango-o-o…?” he hiccuped, looking up at me with golden retriever eyes.

I closed mine. “I don’t think we can afford it, buddy.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Mommy can’t buy too many things, okay?”

“You deserve all the mangoes,” he said seriously.

I pressed a kiss to his head, and he didn’t once complain as we paid for the groceries and left the store.

+479 words

rolls: 2, 5 (only i completely forgot i rolled a 2…:sob — 3rd person omniscient, future, 300 words

3. Retelling
Original myths are great, but there are many different ways to look at them that bring in a novel perspective. Take an old myth and make it something completely new and interesting. Pick your favorite myth and consider what you could change to put a new spin on it. You could change the point of view, genders, setting, time period, or anything really! Choose as many elements as you want to play with, and write your original and fantastical retelling. You'll be amazed at what you come up with!
idea: that part with Hektor from the Iliad

It will be a long road to his first dawn. He will live alone most of his life until he will meet the one he wants to spend every day with. They will have a son, and they will watch every sunrise together, bathed in its golden light.

The world will while the time away, and he will forget about trouble and hardship, for everything looks untouchable in the bright mornings they will spend.

War will brew in the East, but he will forget.

His father will die, but he never knew him in the first place.

His country will go to war, but he will not want to shed blood.

He will run away from the sunlight, take his family far away from the fight.

He will think he can run forever.

Sunrises will pass like grains of sand falling in the Fates’ hourglass. Until the scales will tip, and he cannot run anymore with the weight of his world on his back.

War will catch up with him.

His queen and his prince will unknowingly betray him. His world will force him to turn into something he never wanted to become.

He will fight, and he will die, in a way, though his heart still beats in his chest.

His son will not recognize him when he returns. His eyes will see the sun rise once more over a field of blood, but he will not remember anything save trouble and hardship.

It will be a long road to sunset.

He will not want to live; he will not want to die.

His queen will stay by his side. She, too, will forget.

Their son will take his own road, back to the sunlight of his childhood. He will drown out his sorrows with pleasure, until he forgets trouble and hardship.

+303 words for the daily (and also part of the weekly)

4. If These Walls Could Talk: The Events One Place Has Seen.
only i did an oops and used a made up place </3 but this was super fun and i’m pretty proud of it so i’m posting anyhow!

We’ve watched for centuries. We’ve seen princes born. We’ve watched Kings grow old. We’ve witnessed coups and rebellion. We’ve watched, silent, impassive, always.

We watched you as a child.

You were always small, but no less fierce for your size. Your ice was packed to fit inside your tiny frame.

You were not like the others.

You wanted to run, to linger outside doors hiding whispers.

You did not cry; your skin grew cracks and grew strong.

You did not say “I love you” in return.

You were strong, and yet you were weak. A contradiction we had difficulty understanding, at first. So we watched, perhaps more carefully than ever before.

Then, one day, you left. You had grown tall, taller than your brother, now. You had grown stronger, and you had hidden yourself away, ready to run, or perhaps always in the midst of running away.

They mourned the loss of their prince. They said “I love you” to the same silence in reply, and this time you did not hear.

The King grew old. His heir grew quiet and sad, his smile a little harder to come by without you. If only you had known. We watched all, but you had never seen.

We watch, we wait, for you to return.

Something tells us you will. They call it hope, we think.

+224 words

Part 1: Mythology

3. Retelling
Hektor from the Iliad

It will be a long road to his first dawn. He will live alone most of his life until he will meet the one he wants to spend every day with. They will have a son, and they will watch every sunrise together, bathed in its golden light.

The world will while the time away, and he will forget about trouble and hardship, for everything looks untouchable in the bright mornings they will spend.

War will brew in the East, but he will forget.

His father will die, but he never knew him in the first place.

His country will go to war, but he will not want to shed blood.

He will run away from the sunlight, take his family far away from the fight.

He will think he can run forever.

Sunrises will pass like grains of sand falling in the Fates’ hourglass. Until the scales will tip, and he cannot run anymore with the weight of his world on his back.

War will catch up with him.

His queen and his prince will unknowingly betray him. His world will force him to turn into something he never wanted to become.

He will fight, and he will die, in a way, though his heart still beats in his chest.

His son will not recognize him when he returns. His eyes will see the sun rise once more over a field of blood, but he will not remember anything save trouble and hardship.

It will be a long road to sunset.

He will not want to live; he will not want to die.

His queen will stay by his side. She, too, will forget.

Their son will take his own road, back to the sunlight of his childhood. He will drown out his sorrows with pleasure, until he forgets trouble and hardship.

—303/200 words

4. Genre Swap
The Norse god Balder in a Sci-fi world.

Balder pressed his hand to the scanner. After a moment, the door hissed and slid open. Humming, he entered his apartment, deactivating his suitcase so its engine whirred to a stop and the bag landed on the floor.

Music began playing softly as Balder took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He slung off his coat and tossed his shoes to the side, finally letting out a relieved breath. The conference had been torturous, no matter the exotic location. In fact, if anything, that had made it worse. All he’d wanted to do was run through the last jungle on Earth, not listen to some man drone about profit margins. Why couldn’t they just do it virtually, anyhow? Balder huffed and opened the fridge, tapping his finger against the cool metal in time with the song.

He pulled out a protein pack and began warming it up. With a lift of his hand, he raised the volume of the speakers. An old-timey song had come on, one of his favorites.

“We didn’t get it right, but, love, we did our best…”

“and…” BANG! “…we will…” BANG! “again” BANG!

Balder frowned, lowering the volume with a wave of his hand.

“Show front door,” he said. Across his wall, a screen displayed a view of the street outside, including the compact white box sitting on his doorstep. The side of the bot was inscribed with the letters, all in a bold, sans serif font: ICC.

“ICC…,” Balder muttered, then shook his head. It sounded important. A government agency, perhaps?

He opened the front door.

“Mr. Balder Aesir?” a pre-recorded voice chirped.

“That’s me.”

“I am B10874X, with International Contaminant Control. You are suspected of bringing in a foreign disease, and we must request your cooperation as we attempt to decontaminate.”

Balder opened his mouth to protest—he never got sick, and he felt just fine—and were they checking everyone who’d gone on the trip?

Before he could, however, a long, thin arm reached out of the bot and injected his arm with—something.

“Gah!” he yelped, pulling his arm back and cradling it against his chest. “What the heck did you do?” Ice-cold knives of pain were jolting up the limb. His legs felt numb, and he fell to his knees. “Wh…?” he couldn’t finish the word. He collapsed on his side.

“…all things end” the music whispered, but it suddenly sounded loud. It was the last thing he heard before everything turned black.

—414/200 (lyrics from All Things End by Hozier because it was the first song I thought of and I was too lazy to find another one oops)


Part 2: Hi-Fi

1. Original Characters in Historical Times.
OC: Orion from a novel in the planning stage. During the French Revolution (my research amounts to currently reading Les Mis, and that’s where the other characters are from as well).

Orion walked through the streets with his head down, one hand reaching up every once in a while to touch the rim of his hat as though to reassure himself it was still on his head.

It was raining, but Orion only found it foreboding because it meant he wouldn’t be able to see the stars tonight. If only he could at least afford a proper room, but his pockets were every day more and more scantly filled from the odd jobs he pulled. He hadn’t seen a franc in a year at least.

Frowning up at the sky, he sighed and turned a corner, where he nearly ran into four men entering a small pub through a back door.

“Oh! Courfeyrac, is this your new friend?” one of the men, a large, 30-something gentleman who was the oldest and best dressed of the lot, though nature hadn’t blessed him with any of the natural handsomeness of the young man in front.

“N-no,” Orion stuttered, trying to determine which one this Courfeyrac was.

“Ah,” the man frowned, looking Orion up and down. “No, I suppose you aren’t.”

Orion bristled, straightening his cravat. His clothes were worn, but they were good enough.

“Marius will come, Grantaire,” another of the group—short, about college-age—assured the first man.

Orion frowned at them as the two in back began whispering something together, which made Grantaire laugh.

“Good day,” Orion said stiffly, and continued on his way, sparing only a final glance behind him as another college-aged man, lanky, with dark hair and a somber expression, joined the others.

—263/200 words


Part 3: Fairy Tales

1. Using Sparks from the Past: Retelling
gender-swapped Rapunzel!

Ansel heaved a sigh as he stared out his window at the unchanging dunes. They were a broad stroke of sandy yellow below the bright blue sky, reflecting the sun so brightly at points he had to glance away.

There wasn’t anything to do, which wasn’t new.

Ansel left the window open, hoping without cause that there might be a breeze blowing through.

Mother was gone again, which, again, wasn’t new.

He wished it were night again; the stars would be out, like God had painted them across the sky just for him. And it would be cool, and the breeze would not just be imagined.

Zel flopped down on his bed and tugged his sketchbook out from the bedside table.

He flipped through it a bit for inspiration. Mostly it was pictures of things around the tower, or his hands, or a shot he’d referenced in the mirror. Every once in a while, he’d try to draw Mother, but it never turned out right, and he’d tear out the pages and burn them.

He blew a strand of hair out of his face. It was exactly the color of the sand dunes outside. He wondered how they felt on your feet. Mother said they kept in the heat, which is why she always wore those thick-soled boots, even though Zel thought those would just make your feet even hotter.

—230/200


4. A Journey of Motifs: Using Popular Fairy Tale Motifs in Another Story
Motifs: princess, mirror, starlight

Lin tilted her head, trying to find the best angle. She dipped her chin, brushed her hair behind her ear, pouted her lips a little. She wanted to look her best. The mirror was too dim, though, and it was difficult to make things out in it by candlelight. With a huff, she tugged her curtains wide open. A nearly full moon hung suspended in the sky, its light overwhelming that of the stars speckled around it and bathing her in silver.

Hopping off her vanity stool, Lin curled up in the window seat, staring up at the dark.

A knock came at the door.

Lin frowned, glancing over her shoulder. “Come in,” she said, hoping it was Maia.

“Princess Linnette,” a figure, silhouetted against the hall’s torchlight and certainly too tall to be her lady-in-waiting, said with a stiff, and perfect, bow.

Lin shivered, pulling her shift up from where it had slipped down one shoulder. “Um, who are you?” she asked, confused. It must have been a guard—but what was wrong?

“I’m your father’s Minister of War, your Highness. You don’t recognize me?” he sounded genuinely surprised.

Lin turned her whole body, her legs dangling off the edge of the window seat. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t see you properly. What did you want to see me about?”

“Ah, yes. You know—I…” a small grunt escaped him, and Lin darted to her feet.

“Minister?”

“I—Princess…Princess?”

“Yes?” Lin asked, wringing her hands, now thoroughly confused.

“I—what am I doing here, Highness?”

Lin frowned. “I—I was asking you the same thing a moment ago.”

“Ah…. Apologies, Princess. I am afraid…I am not feeling well. If you will excuse me….” He gave another bow, and Lin, speechless, could not protest.

When the door was closed, Lin sank once more into the seat below the cool glass, moon and starlight dancing in the dust before her.

—313/200


Part 4: Folklore

4. Magical Realism (Talking Animals, Little Bits of Magic, Etc)
Talking animals!! yes please.

Laughter colored their days golden, so they never knew the dark. They were safe from the elements under their parents’ wings, far away from the cruelty of man.

Clouds covered their blue skies; a storm formed on the horizon, but they were distracted by delight.

Terror hit like a lightning strike; sudden, bright, blistering. Their childhoods were the casualty.

He loved him, but he could not save him.

He loved him, but he walked away.

Jasper wandered worlds, following the maps his father had left behind.

Pip wasn’t sure how to help him. He found the portals, but he was not as sure as Jasper that they would find Jason at the end. Had his father truly mapped every world? It seemed impossible, the universe too vast. Pip did not voice his concerns. He did not voice anything. They were not in the High Realm, after all.

Jasper knew that he was there, that he cared, and that was enough. It would have to be enough. Pip hoped it was enough.

When they passed through a portal brighter than the others, into a world familiar and distant, Pip closed his eyes against the light. He felt something in him shift as a fraction of the portal’s energy was imparted to him—the piece he’d left there.

Jasper folded up his last map. His father had not mapped any of the High Realm’s worlds. This was the end of one Realm, and the beginning of a new one. Jasper looked down sadly, and Pip felt through their bond the renewed grief at losing his father’s last bit of guidance.

Pip shook his head, opened his mouth, hesitated.

Jasper looked back at him, a furrow forming between his brows. “What is it, bud?”

Pip smiled sadly and nudged Jasper’s leg. “This way,” he said.

—301/200

total weekly word count: 1,824/1200

A wind whispered its way across the tall grasses, which rippled like golden waves. Orion leaned on the balcony railing, soaking in the orange light of sunset. The sky was cloudless and a blazing blue.

He lowered his head, trying to shut out the memories the scent of pollen and dust brought back. The smells were stubborn though, and his mind too weak. He was caught in memory’s inescapable current.

Cardboard pages painted all over with vibrant colors and words he couldn’t read.

His mother’s low voice, her hair auburn in the warm light.

His father’s laugh, gritty yet joyful, his strong arms lifting Orion off the ground.

But that—that wasn’t what had happened.

His own fingers turned the pages, opening the thick book slowly. A name was scrawled in marker on the first page. This book belongs to…

It was not his name.

Orion’s breath caught. He stepped back, away from the peeling white paint of the railing, shook his head, exhaled slowly.

It…it wasn’t his name.

Orion knelt, not out of reverence for the revelation, but because his legs simply would not hold him any longer.

Whispers behind closed doors. The muffled sound of weeping. Orion wanted to go help, but the door was locked, and he was terrified to hear his father’s broken voice murmur consolations. He ran into his room and burrowed under the covers with a book not his own. He was too old for them now, but his parents didn’t seem to realize. They were stuck with the belief that he was six years old.

Darkness enclosed him, and his parents didn’t come to tuck him in. Why was today different? Why had they forgotten him?

The scent of grass drifted in through his open window, and, alone, he stared up at the starless sky.

—301 words

critique for raya ~

I really liked this piece, it was fun and had some good examples of their characters. I’m also a sucker for marauders-era stuff so perhaps it was just geared towards me as an audience. ;D Anyways, there’s not really any overall changes I would make, so let’s get down to some line-by-line edits!

raya wrote:

“Lily, wait!”
A young girl in a cloak ran through the cold, harsh woods.
“Lily! Please wait up, it didn't mean anything-”
“No!“ Lily shouted, tearing through each stride. James ran after her, his hand almost catching onto her cloak.
”I swear,“ pleaded the boy. ”It's all a mistake! They wouldn't have-“
The girl stopped and turned around with a dramatic swish of her cloak. James skidded to a stop, immediately retracing his steps slowly as Lily advanced on him.

Here the main thing I would consider changing is the use of “the boy” and “the girl” since we do learn their names so early, and we learn James’ without a cue from the dialogue. If this was intentional to mimic Rowling’s style (not sure as I haven’t read the books in a while) then I might consider keeping it, but otherwise I would do away with it. I also feel the phrase “tearing through each stride” is a bit murky…I feel something more direct would work better. “tearing through the underbrush” or something, as I’m not sure what use the word “stride” has in this context. Otherwise, I love this bit, jumping directly in with the action is great!

raya wrote:

”You and your little friends are all worth a trip to hell!”
“Lily-”
“None of you have ever made a single good choice- I don't even know why I talk to you!”

I feel the phrase “none of you have ever made a single good choice” is a bit clunky for dialogue, and angry, presumably quick dialogue at that. Perhaps merely “you’re a bunch of idiots, and i’m an idiot for giving you the time of day!” or something more along those lines?

raya wrote:

“Lily, I-”
“Your glorious schemes, your clever pranks! And you never turn around and see the damage you've caused-” she stopped talking and flinched. James took her hand firmly. Lily stared at it, tears forming rapidly at her eyes.
“Lily,” tried James.
Lily looked away and shut her eyes. A small drop of salty water ran down her cheek.
James smirked. “Are you… crying?”
“Quit it, James,” Lily swore softly.
“You're adorable when you're angry,” James said, tilting his head to match hers.
Lily slowly turned back to look at him, shaking her head. Her tears streamed down her face, glowing in the darkness of the woods.
She whispered, “You've never been called a Mudblood, have you?” The corners of her lips were down, her lower lip trembling. Her hands curled into fists, shaking off James's grip. “You've never been called a name?”
James looked down at his feet, cloak hanging to his ankles.
“Barely a harsh word has come your way, has it? You Pure-Bloods and your flawless fantasies. Ever care for others? Better off a Death Eater.” She scorned, looking away once more and taking a step back.
“Look,” James began. “There's nothing I-” he choked.

I really like the way you did this argument!

raya wrote:

Lily quickly looked at him with an expression of concern.

This seems a fairly abrupt change from the moment before. Perhaps confusion would be more fitting, or at least mention his surprise at her concern, or something of that sort.

raya wrote:

James knit his eyebrows. “I've got nothing. I would never want to hurt you, Evans.”
Lily scoffed.
“Promise. Nothing makes me happier in the world than you.”
“Not even your ego?” Lily retaliated.
James shook his head. Lily sighed a long sigh, head leaning into his robes. “You really are something, Potter.”

Really nice! Only thing I’d clear up here is the phrase “head leaning into his robes” which feels a little vague to me, or at least I’m not sure what to picture. A bit more specificity would help, I think; I’d try something like “looking down so the top of her head almost brushed his chest” (or if I’m interpreting the action incorrectly, just add some more description of what action she does which makes her head “lean in” to his robes ).

raya wrote:

James chuckled and stooped to her height, looking up slightly. “I'm pretty sure…you like me….” He waited for a response.
Lily gave him one. “I despise you,” she grinned down into his imploring face.
James laughed, taking her gently by the shoulders. He stared into her eyes intensely, tilting his head in awe. “Your eyes are a beautiful deep bottle green, Lily.”
“Oh, do stop,” Lily shrugged him off and grinned, taking a moment to clear her face of her tears.
Thumping footsteps sounded from the edge of the woods, pattering quickly toward them.
“James!“ Voices called. ”Prongs!“
”This place gives me the creeps. I swear it was daytime a minutes earlier.“
”Why did you think it was a good idea to come here? It's the Forbidden Forest!“
”Come now, we all know James loves the forbidden stuff.“ Laughter was heard.
”Oh dear, stay here, I've got it,“ James said to Lily.
“Wait,” she commanded, touching his arm. “Don't ever tell anyone about this, Potter.”
James chuckled, walking backwards with a broad smile on his face. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

This is great! I love the ending. Only thing I might add is a bit more about her tone with the last piece of dialogue, “command” is a really good start, but perhaps describe her eyes narrowing or her grabbing his arm rather than merely touching it.

Overall, I really enjoyed your fanfic! It was a nice little insight into their characters, and super fun! Thanks for letting me critique it.

—417 words of critique

for critique~

1.
You’ve always wondered what it was like to be their eldest,
The one they tried to remember
The one they loved enough to hate you

You’ve wondered what it was like to read books with your name on their covers,
To wear clothes in your favorite color, not his
To be the one they mourned

You’ve stared up at a sky without stars
And wondered what it would be like to see the constellations you’ve memorized
Blazing above like God laid them there just for you

But
This is all you know
All you’ve ever known

You mourn the life you never had,
The stars you’ll never see

And
Isn’t it funny?
Pain seems somehow right when darkness is all you’ve ever seen.



2.
Hey, it’s been a while
You stumble through greetings
Uncertain tongue
Uncertain feet

Sorry about Dad
You apologize for the pain you share
And, mostly,
For the pain you don’t

Like the Earth around the sun
Around and around
You are forced to return
No progress

Your father’s child, but
She doesn’t know why you came
Neither do you
Stumbling around and around

You can’t fix her
You can’t fix yourself
Apologize, apologizing
It’s been a while

You come around again



3.
The sky lived in his eyes
The stars in his heart
Constellations in his memory
Always looking for a light outside
He tears himself apart

She patches him up with glass
So she can see inside his chest

critique for sparrow~

Thanks so much for letting me critique your story, Sparrow! Can I start off by just saying that I really really enjoyed it!! The imagery and whimsy of the premise was really well done and it felt very immersive. With that said, I have some line-by-line edits of things I would consider changing (as well as a few things I particularly liked!) below.

sparrow wrote:

Among the thick, dark grass, and daisies that seemed to pale in the face of mysterious, flickering stars on a midnight black canvas, I wandered alone.

There’s some really neat description here, but I feel the action gets a little lost in the length of the sentence. Here’s how I would consider altering it… “I wandered alone across the thick, dark grass. Daisies fluttered their petals in the wind, shining pale against the landscape like flickering stars on a midnight black canvas.” or something along those lines! Starting with the action makes it stand out a little more, and while it’s by no means always necessary, I think it helps particularly when just starting a piece.

sparrow wrote:

Or at least I thought so. The night sky was particularly depressing today. Even a couple of years ago, you could still see the shine of the moon. But with the sun gone, even that had vanished. It was there of course, but now it could only lie in loneliness, somewhere in the vastness of space, as a devoid husk.

Have I mentioned cool imagery yet? This is awesome! Love the idea of the moon continuing on without the sun, but lost to human eyes. Knowing something is there, but not being able to see it, is a very cool thing. I would consider removing the “as” in the final sentence; I feel it’s unnecessary and makes the sentence feel a little more clumsy. Alternatively, you could replace it with “nothing more than” or something like that if you want to emphasize it. Up to you though! The phrase “devoid husk” is also a little unclear to me; perhaps try “husk devoid of life/light” or “empty husk”?

sparrow wrote:

All this was daunting to reflect on, but I reminded myself of my resolution to do all I could not to worry so much, but rather trudge on through the pasture, though likely in vain.

Hmm, I feel like this is another slightly run-on sentence. Particularly the second phrase feels like it should be shortened. “All this was daunting to reflect on, but I reminded myself not to worry so much. Keep going. Even if my journey through this pasture was likely in vain.”

sparrow wrote:

It was good to keep a steady mind when the sky was, in fact, falling, and every minute stars crackled away to dust.

Very fun comment about the sky falling haha, and some more awesome worldbuilding!

sparrow wrote:

Looking down a stiff,

steep?

sparrow wrote:

rocky decline, and onto a whitish beach, I found myself peering at the star I had seen drop out of the sky earlier. I turned around to see if anyone was watching. Though nobody ever had before, astoundingly, a pair of blood red eyes twinkled in the dark before me, just a bit deeper into the woods.

I have a few questions/edits here. Firstly, I would remove the “…I found myself peering…” since we just said he was “looking down…”; you can simply say “…beach, my eyes caught on a glimmer of light: the star I’d seen fall out of the sky.” or something along those lines. Secondly, I feel the red eyes come a bit out of nowhere. After all, if no one had ever watched him before, why does he keep looking? There could be some interesting character exploration you could do there, but as it stands it feels a bit abrupt.

sparrow wrote:

I stepped back a bit. And then I began to run. Through the thicket, leaves brushed my sides.

Although the action later is great, I feel like this is a little more stilted—“And then…” is typically avoidable, as is “began to”. The third sentence here is also incomplete, I think, or at least starting it with “through” makes it feel that way. “I stepped back—hesitated—then ran. Branches whipped against my sides.” is more concise and direct, which tends to work best for action.

sparrow wrote:

I stumbled down the cliffside and found myself gasping for air on the lonely beach. A star lay above me, floating silently. It flickered violently. I clasped my hands around it and held it to my chest, the poor thing. As quietly as I could, I lifted my fingers, twirled them around the star, and murmured something. A bright light beamed out from my fingertips, and the star began to grow.

OOH, this is super super cool!!! I love the magical realism element here. As it’s first person, I might clear up what the “something” our protagonist whispers is.

sparrow wrote:

As it released itself into the sky,

This is getting pretty nitpicky and I apologize, but the phrasing here is a bit unclear. “eleased itself” might work better simply as “floated” or “I released it” as you can’t typically release yourself?

sparrow wrote:

I thought I’d name it red eyes. And I’d watch it forever.

Overall, your piece was super cool with a very distinct world and some unique imagery. I very much enjoyed it! Thanks for letting me critique.

—577 words of critique

for bella~

This is a really cool piece, I love seeing the relationship at this point and then being able to look back at the choices the characters have made that led to this moment. I was also a bit surprised to see this scene from the mother’s perspective, but it was a good choice I think! Gives us a very different perspective on the situation. I have a few specific line-by-line edits that I’ll get into now.

bella wrote:

The battle was over. The screams that had torn at the air, the sorrow that had torn at the very fabric of the world were silent and still. Time had shuttered to a halt. Antea stumbled through the palace halls, passing guards, servants, and people who would normally have no right to be in the royal home. Each gave her a withering look as they clutched their wounds and dragged themselves across the marble floors, leaving a trail of bl00d in their wake.

Whoa, jumping right in here (/pos)! I like this description a lot. Puts us right in the scene.

bella wrote:

A sob escaped Antea’s throat, guilt pressing down on her chest and stifling her breath. Macarius—the king, her husband—was dead. Laurent was wounded.

I feel like the description of Macarius feels a little forced. Perhaps simplify it to just his name, or just “her husband, the king”? As well, throughout the piece, I was a bit confused as to who the character “Laurent” is? Is he the prince?

bella wrote:

And Nasrin…

Where was Nasrin?

She had charged into battle, Coren and three others in tow. Weapons blazing and the steely glint of determination in their eyes.

Very cool! Nice flow here. Only thing is, were their weapons literally blazing? It feels like an odd choice of metaphor without specifying “in the sun” or something, because it does seem to imply they are actually on fire. Which they might have been. (That would be cool.)

bella wrote:

Where were they now?

Lying broken and bl00dy on a battlefield?

Bodies crushed under the masses?

A sudden image came into her mind, of Nasrin’s red hair spread around her porcelain face, of her glassy gray eyes staring up at the sky expectantly as bl00d pooled around her on the palace steps.

Oof. Again, some nice flow from one thought to the next. And the image hits home.

bella wrote:

Antea shoved the image back, she could not be dead. Not after everything she had done, the trouble she had caused, the lives that had been lost because of her.

I’d specify “she” in this case, and maybe separate that part altogether. “Antea shoved the image back. Nasrin could not be dead. Not after…”

bella wrote:

But most of all, because the Queen had not been able to apologize to her daughter for everything she had done. For her neglect and selfishness.

A good insight into her character conflict here. Honestly though, I think the final sentence could be removed since “everything she had done” is well enough explained later on.

bella wrote:

Antea stopped in a doorway, she hadn’t realized where her feet were taking her. Only felt the pull to the throne room. The two gilded thrones were there, a halo of light surrounding them and the jewels settled into their polished frame glittered in the light.

A few incomplete sentences/punctuation errors here. Try:

Antea stopped in a doorway; she (or . She) hadn’t realized where her feet were taking her, only felt (or followed?) the pull to the throne room. The two gilded thrones were (still?) there, a halo of light surrounding them. The jewels set in their polished frame glittered in the light.

bella wrote:

They were the only things in the room untouched by the bl00d and wreckage from the battle outside. Debris littered the space, holes had been blasted through the walls and ceilings, shadows gathered in the corners and amidst it all stood a girl.

Here again are some punctuation edits I would make to the second sentence

Debris littered the space, holes had been blasted through the walls and ceilings, and shadows gathered in the corners and. aAmidst it all stood a girl.

bella wrote:

Her back was to Antea, and her clothes were torn, silver armor scratched, and crushed in places. The air around her seemed to crackle with energy.

Some more edits for the sake of simplicity and ease of comprehension…

Her back was to Antea, and her clothes were torn and silver armor scratched, and crushed in places.

Since this is getting quite long, for the rest I’ll just do an overview.

bella wrote:

“Mother.” She said dryly, turning to face her. Her eyes searched the Queen’s, dark circles making her pale face seem almost skeletal in the gloom. She clutched a familiar gold crown that was dented and splattered with dried bl00d.

Antea fell to her knees before her daughter, tears spilling over and blurring her vision.
Nasrin looked at her mother distastefully, “I did it. I told you I could, but you didn’t believe me. Neither of you did.” she considered the crown in her hands.

“We never should have doubted you.”

“But you did. You listened to Laurent, thought I was mad.” Nasrin's gaze bore into her mothers, anger lighting like a match behind her solemn gray eyes. “When I was the one with the better education. I was the one who had been groomed for this my entire life. I was the one who had been listening for years and was finally ready to be listened to.”

“We were foolish.”

“Yes, you were. And now our people lie dying in the streets when you and father could have saved them if only you had heeded my word.”

snip

“I should have known. There are always two sides to the same coin, and among this broken world of bl00d and tears, you would become the ruler we all needed. The ruler who would stand beside her people amid a thousand battles.” And she rested the crown atop Nasrin's flaming hair, her storm-gray eyes softening at her mother's touch.

I really like the conflict here; as I said at the beginning, seeing it from the mother’s perspective is really nice. I also like the contrast in the line about her being “fragile” as a child, and her mother not being able to believe she’d grow up to do things like this. It was just very cool and a nice bit of emotion that I think fit really well with the mother’s character as well. I think there could be more incorporation of Nasrin’s anger in body language or even tone, with her yelling at some point or turning away or scoffing or something, as well as some more clipped dialogue perhaps. (Perhaps “Yes, you were !”) Although perhaps her apathy is intentional, in which case that’s fine! Some comment on that, even her Mother’s desperation to get her to show some emotion or that she’s really listening, would be cool. More description of the mother’s emotion and thoughts during this scene might help as well, just slow it down and bring certain things to focus (specifically the part where she reveals the backstory—which was a really cool one btw!). Anyways, I know you said the ending wasn’t going to be the final one, but I actually really like it!! It’s very cool. But since you are planning to continue it, I think the idea of “the ruler we needed” vs. the one we wanted, or the kind one, or whatever, is veery cool and I hope you focus on it later too! Anyways this was a very cool piece, thanks so much for letting me critique it!! I really enjoyed it.


—577 words of critique

Moths with singed wings fluttered above my head. They flitted around the bright lamps until their black wings could not sustain them, and they fell to the ground like dark snow.

I pushed my way through the crowd, for once glad of my small size as I slipped between gaps in the rabble. Frowning, I turned around, struggling to catch a glimpse of your red hair. Most everyone here was a frostling, so it wouldn’t be hard to spot amongst all the black. You had darted away from the line of performers when the circus master had turned his back. I wanted to know where you’d gone.



“Who are you?” you snapped, black eyes harsh and wide and empty like the night sky.

“My name’s Loki…what are you doing here? Why did you run?”

“Why do you care?”

I opened my mouth to respond. Before I could, a shout and riotous laughter erupted from the stand beside us, and we both flinched away from the noise.

Dark eyes met mine.

I saw you smile for the first time, a beautiful, crooked smile that meant you knew we were the same.



I stayed because it was easy and seemed meant to be. I never had to tell you what I felt because your eyes were dark and your smiles hard to come by. It felt like a victory every time I saw your teeth.

My parents loved me, which was enough, but everybody loved you. The circus girl who ran away.

You never told me why you’d run, and I didn’t ask again. Maybe I was afraid of the answer.



There was a river, rushing even in the wintertime. We relished its cold embrace; it made you feel like you were one of us. Surrounded by laughter, we exchanged crooked smiles that no one else could see or understand. When the others were away, we talked of mundane things as though they were profound. Our tongues would not let the truth slip out, too afraid of drowning in its unknown current. I thought you knew, though, thought I saw your soul in your dark eyes. And I told myself the mundane would be enough.

I didn’t know how to fix you, wanting to believe you weren’t broken all along. Because everybody loved you, and that should have been enough.



“What are you doing here? What do you want?” Those black eyes never softened, and I’d always liked that about you. Even when the world was cold, you were colder.

Dust motes danced in broken-glass shaped light. I could no more count them than I could find the words to say.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone…,” I tried.

You scoffed, but you weren’t looking me in the eye. Your gaze was pinned to the shattered window. “Why do you care?”

The moment was broken glass in my bleeding hands, unable to be pieced back together.

It was easier to leave the words unspoken.



Black eyes became my soul, wide and dark and full of all the things I could never say.

I tried, but the lights were too bright. You’d broken the window so I could follow you, but I could not make it past the shards of glass. My hands still carry the scars, and sometimes when I wake up alone they bleed again. If I could have weighed the pain on scales, perhaps I would have made the right choice.



Everybody loved you, but perhaps I should have told you I was one of them.

critique for marbles~

Hi there Marbles! Thanks for letting me critique your piece. Some comments as we start: okay, first off, I really liked it a lot! The atmosphere and style was very nice. I also like the use of the repeated lines. (I know that was the prompt, but it was executed well also! so good job ) The only overall critique I have is to perhaps slow the pacing a bit—I know you said pacing was a concern, and I definitely feel some things happened a bit fast. It does fit to an extent with the sudden attack, but some foreshadowing of the narrator’s fears or the danger of the night would be nice. (Or irony with thinking that nothing could ruin the night—in which case I might slightly tone down the immediate jump to the worst.) Anyway, I’ll cover a handful of line-by-line edits below, but that would be the main thing I’d consider changing.

The moon is beautiful tonight.

Is it true? I ask myself.

Of course it is. Why would ever you say that?

The Japanese say that saying the moon is beautiful is saying ‘I love you’, but somehow I can never seem to get it in my head.

This beginning is probably my favorite part. The atmosphere and narration style is super cool!

How is the moon associated with love?

Maybe talk a bit about how our narrator does see the moon, for contrast.

I slowly walk down the path, along with the person who spoke that to me.

A bit unclear…Perhaps try, “I walked along the path (under the moon?) with the person who first told me that.” Or something more along those lines. ^^ (I would mention the moon as well to add some element of transition, but you don’t have to!)

I looked into his eyes, and his eyes bored into mine.

I hadnever felt so exposed nor unarmed.

Like his gaze is already passing through all my defenses.

'You know, you look so cute when you're expressionless.' He spoke out of a suddensuddenly, his face reddening each moment passed when the sentence blurted out.after he blurted out the words.

Some grammar/tense edits…The third sentence feels a bit redundant to me—at the very least unclear. You could try combining it with the previous one, ie, “I had never felt so exposed as his gaze easily pierced my every defense.”

I smirked, as he looked like a bright red tomato. My favorite vegetables and color.

'Hey, what's going on there?' He spoke suddenly, looking behind me.

I would change the “he spoke suddenly” since you already used this phrase (or one very like it)—just “he asked” would be fine I think.

I turned around, seeing two figures among bamboo thickets.

The wind carried their words, but yet they were too soft to hear.

Maybe “…the faintest murmur of their words” or something to make it clear from the start that they’re too soft to hear?

'We should approach them.' He said first before I could speak and ran ahead.

This is the main part where I think the pacing feels off; try giving the reader a better glimpse at the motivation behind this sudden (and reckless) decision. Maybe they see these people hurting someone else, and he wants to help?

I called his name, asking(begging?) him to stay put.

What if those were criminals?

What if they were capable of (unaliving someone)?

Please don't take him away, please don't…

Darkness filled my mind suddenly, thinking of a world without him.

Without him, I am alone.

Without him, I will be tormented.

Without him, I will be harmed and unprotected.

I need him.

I quite like this! It’s a nice glimpse into our narrator’s head. Might want to look out for some tense changes here too, though.

I called his name again, chasing him to grab his clothes just to pull him out of the forest.

This sentence is a bit unclear; perhaps try… “I called his name again, chased after him, tried to grab his clothes and pull him back.”

But it was too late.

Oof. (Good tho!)

He's’d already gone in,; (or .) I cancould no longer see him.

Tense…

(I’m sorry, but for the life of me I can’t figure out how to get forums to let me post this section. Try this. Again, very sorry! It’s a bit harder to read there. )

Trodding upon the unusually soft grass, I walked slowly as I tried to scan my surroundings.

Why is the grass “unusually” soft?

It was too dark to see, as bamboo thickets were too thick it blocked the moonlight.

Incomplete sentence…Maybe “It was too dark to see as the thick bamboo thickets blocked the moonlight.”?

How will I ever know it was beautiful if I'm trapped here eternally?

However, I came across a clearing.

A clearing too clean to be natural.

Oh, this is interesting—perhaps referencing something unique about this world or this character? Are they immortal?

My foot caught something, I looked at it as the horrors filled my eyes.

It'sIt was him. Dead.

I suppressed a yelp. It couldn't be… He was alive a few moments ago!

I started to think all that I feared, coming true one by one.

Making my living world a nightmare.

I stared to the moon, hoping for comfort.

Instead(of beauty?), I amwas provided with insanity in losing the only person that loved me.

'Hey, Darren. Just k!// her already. Let her be like her boyfriend here who tried to bust into our business!'

He'swas right. K!// me already.(Italics perhaps, to show their thoughts?)

I wanted to see him in paradise, where both of us can view the moon together.

I felt a pain in my abdomen and I fell to the ground.

I lay with my back on the ground, my face towards the sky.

Towards the moon who watched every scene(without interfering? without reacting? without changing?).

Now when I think about it, the moon should reflect all the dark times people face.

No one shows their struggles in the day, but darkness shines brightest in the night.

I smiled to myself, looking at the moon's uncanny beauty once more.

The moon is indeed beautiful tonight.

Ooh, the ending is super cool~ I really loved your story!! Thanks for letting me read and critique it! I hope this helped.

—571 word critique

one of them

a short story by vi

Moths with singed wings fluttered above my head. They flitted around the bright lamps until their black wings could not sustain them, and they fell to the ground like dark snow.

I pushed my way through the crowd, for once glad of my small size as I slipped between gaps in the rabble. Frowning, I turned around, struggling to catch a glimpse of your red hair. Amongst all the black-haired frostlings, it wouldn’t be hard to spot. You had darted away from the line of brightly dressed performers when the circus master had turned his back. I wanted to know where you’d gone.



“Who are you?” you snapped, your black eyes harsh and wide and empty like the night sky.

“My name’s Loki…what are you doing here? Why did you run?”

“Why do you care?”

I opened my mouth to respond. Before I could, a shout and riotous laughter erupted from the stand beside us, and we both flinched away from the noise.

Dark eyes met mine.

I saw you smile for the first time, a beautiful, crooked smile that meant you knew we were the same.



I stayed because it was easy and seemed meant to be. I never had to tell you what I felt because your eyes were dark like mine. Your smiles were hard to come by, so it felt like a victory every time I saw your teeth.

My parents loved me, which was enough, but everybody loved you. The circus girl who ran away.

You never told me why you’d run, and I didn’t ask again. Maybe I was afraid of the answer.



There was a river, rushing even in the wintertime. We relished its cold embrace; it made you feel like you were one of us. Surrounded by laughter, we exchanged crooked smiles that no one else could see or understand. When the others were away, we talked of mundane things as though they were profound. Our tongues would not let the truth slip out, too afraid of drowning in its current. I thought you knew though, thought I saw your soul in your dark eyes. And I told myself the mundane would be enough.

I didn’t know how to fix you, wanting to believe you weren’t broken all along. Because everybody loved you, and that should have been enough.



“What are you doing here? What do you want?” Those black eyes never softened, and I’d always liked that about you. Even when the world was cold, you were colder.

Dust motes danced in broken-glass shaped light. I could no more count them than I could find the words to say.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone…,” I tried.

You scoffed, but you weren’t looking me in the eye. Your gaze was pinned to the shattered window. “Why do you care?”

The moment was broken glass in my bleeding hands, unable to be pieced back together.

It was easier to leave the words unspoken.



Black eyes became my soul, wide and dark and full of all the things I could never say.

You’d broken the window so I could follow you, but I could not make it past the shards of glass. I tried, but the lights burned too bright. My hands still carry the scars, and sometimes when I wake up alone they bleed again. If I could have weighed the pain on scales, perhaps I would have made the right choice.



Everybody loved you, but perhaps I should have told you I was one of them.

-

585 words.
thanks so much to crim, eevee, and poppy for their feedback on this piece <3

Hi there Eevee! I really enjoyed your piece, the repeated lines and the way the story was conveyed was wonderful! As for title ideas, I personally like the more simple “Unfulfilled Pinky Promises,” but it’s up to you! I’ll share a few line-by-line edits below and then give some more of my overall thoughts at the end.

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“You're my bestest best friend”
We didn't know how much it'll hurt
We were together, but broke apart

Here I think there’s some mix-up in terms of tense; “it’ll hurt” should be “it would” hurt, I think since the hurt has already occured (as “broke” in the next line is past tense).

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll always be here for you”
We loved too much; we fell too hard
We were merely two small kids

I’m loving the use of dialogue!

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll see you again.” “Promise?” “Next year.”
We didn't know how the world works
We were done before either knew

While this one is more subjective, I’d probably switch “works” to “worked.” I’m also unclear what “done” is referring to? Done with the friendship…? With childhood…?

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I promise to find you when I'm older”
We were merely two small kids
We didn't know what that meant

Ooh, I like this stanza a lot! The last line really hits home.

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“Where were you and how have you been?”
We hadn't seen each other in months
We were waiting for a phenomenon

I think there ought to be a comma in the second phrase (“you, and”).

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I’ll always find you when you hide”
We were full of childish tricks
We were merely two small kids

I like this line a lot! The reference to hide-and-seek is a very nice detail. I’d probably switch the last two lines around, though—I feel that transitions smoother. (“We were merely too small kids, full of childish tricks.”) Up to you, though!

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“I'll still love you to the end”
We were always together in our minds
We were together side by side

Hmm, I feel like some more distinction could be made between these last two lines—they just feel very similar. Perhaps something more along the lines of “we walked to different schools at each other’s side” (obviously it would need to be shortened, but that’s just an idea ^^).

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“We’ll name our kids after each other”
We were merely two small kids
We might follow this promise through

The last line seems to contradict the end…The “might” seems pretty different from the more certain tone of the rest of the poem as well. I’d try to clarify what you mean by this line a bit more.

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“Where are you if you aren't here?”
We couldn't have known how to cope
We just wanted time to talk more

I feel like this final line is ordered in a slightly confusing way, at least for me. I think moving the “more” to before “time” would give the line a more natural flow. Though if you wanted to end on “more,” you could try “We just wanted to be kids some more”?

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
“You can tell me what’s wrong”
We spoke numbly to the dark
We fought our own demons, far apart

Ooh, this line is really cool. Ouch, though.

eevee wrote:

Hundreds of pinky promises
Half unfulfilled in the end

Perhaps “Only half fulfilled in the end”? “Unfulfilled” feels unnecessary when “fulfilled” ends up meaning the same thing.

eevee wrote:

Who are you in the world?

Perhaps to the world?

eevee wrote:

And where were you when
I needed you?

Dang. I really like this! These kinds of questions are always super painful, so great use of it. Overall, I think the storyline is really simply but clearly communicated, which is awesome! I think the flow is great as well. Awesome job, Eevee! I hope these comments helped somewhat.

—414 words of critique

Hi there Poppy! Thanks for letting me critique your piece; I really enjoyed it! I’ll start with a few thoughts on the piece overall then dive into some line-by-line edits. Some things I think were really well done throughout was your choice of style and your storytelling. It was a very intriguing story, and I liked the interactions between the characters a lot. Okay, on to some more specific notes…

poppy wrote:

I rip off the cuff of my jeans to staunch the bleeding in my left leg.

I love this! This sentence jumps right into action as well as hinting at something that happened in the past, so nicely done here.

poppy wrote:

He’s beside me, leaning against the dumpster in the alley we’re hiding in.
The two of us are just outside of town, watching the vaguely-blue smoke rise from the center of the city. It smells like moss, and the overpowering? scent makes my head throb. I slide down against the dumpster. The rain from last night has made the metal cold and wet, and it seeps through my shirt to chill me further.
The alley is covered in soggy litter and abandoned trinkets, but it's tucked away from the worst of the world.

I like how you’re gradually letting the reader into the scene with some tangible details, including use of multiple senses. Great job!

poppy wrote:

Out in the distance, something pulls my attention away from the cold and wet.
Something is weeping in the distance.

Something? This is a bit confusing to me, but it does make me want to learn more. Perhaps if you’re going to say “something” instead of “someone” some more worldbuilding would be nice; what other creatures are there in this world? (This doesn’t have to happen right here, either. But even a mention in passing later - akin to how you mention the birds - would be helpful to understanding this section.)

poppy wrote:

The city is mostly abandoned, but I can hear the wails of a few police sirens echoing off the remaining unshattered windows.

“Remaining” and “unshattered” together feel a bit redundant to me; I see why you picked them both, but if possible I’d try to phrase this differently. Perhaps “but police sirens wail in the distance, their cries echoing off the few windows remaining unshattered.” ? For some reason the reordering of it does make it feel less clunky, to me, but it’s of course totally up to you!

poppy wrote:

He and I have talked about those sirens.
We still wonder what they’re for.

Hmm, I really love it in stories when we get a glimpse of what characters might remember in the future, but since this is a story in present tense, I feel like this is out of place. If you switched the story to past tense, I think this would work great! But I do feel it conflicts with the way the story is currently told.

poppy wrote:

He’s leaned his head against the dumpster, and for a moment, a shudder runs through me.
I name the shudder Fear.
I shake his shoulder in line with the rhythm of my shivering.
“Stop,” I whisper. “You have to open your eyes.”
“Why?” he says. He opens his eyes, but he complies, and the the gray-blue of his irises almost blends into the haze around us.
“I… I don’t know,” I say.

Maybe have some more insight into our narrator’s thoughts? Perhaps an internal “I’m scared.” or something along those lines?

poppy wrote:

“That’s alright,” he says, and his fingers wrap around mine.
He and I were strangers- the only survivors from the dangers that took our sector of the city.

This is really cool, a less oblique nod to their dystopia. I also love the concept of strangers forming a connection through a single shared experience.

poppy wrote:

Somewhere in my head, I had? thought that any surviving stranger would do, but now I knew that wasn’t true.
There wasis a reason he and I survived, beyond luck.
We huddle together, staring across at the smoke comingrising in feathery waves from the buildings. Occasionally, we see a bird fly through the hazy air, only to disappear behind a skyscraper.
I pull my legs up to my chest and lean my forehead against my ratty jeans.
“Hey,” he says. “You gotta keep your eyes open.”

Please!! I love it when characters repeat things back to each other agh. <3 (Did you just…look at a list of things I like…when you wrote this? /j)

poppy wrote:

I look up.
He looks down at the ruined soles of his shoes and laughs to himself quietly.
“I don’t know why.”
I curl into myself a little tighter and play with the loose threads of my sleeve.
“It’s alright,” I say, and I look out at the tresses of smoke that curl around the branches of a blackened willow tree.

“I think we’ll understand in time.”

Ahh I really love the hopeful note at the end. Great job! I really don’t have much else to say; I really enjoyed this piece! Again, thanks for letting me read and critique it. Hope this helps!

—430 words of critique

The office bustle had always been comforting to Mulder—the people going about their jobs, about their days, part of the same machine as him but most of them unaware of his existence. Well, he was a new agent after all.

He had just called Sam, told her about the new assignment, though he didn’t know much of anything about it yet. Mulder had assured her it would be great anyway, though now he was inside the Hoover Building, that assurance was starting to feel a bit empty. He hadn’t met Section Chief Blevins before, and tried to play it cool as he straightened his tie and knocked beside the plaque announcing the Section Chief’s name on the door.

“Come in,” a deep, rather monotone voice called.

Mulder stepped into the room, cast a glance around at the three men inside, and smiled a little.

“Ah, Agent Mulder. Do sit down,” Blevins, a man with a squarish face and short gray hair who sat behind the desk, gestured towards one of the chairs before him.

Mulder did so, crossed his legs, uncrossed them, adjusted his sleeve—was this suit too small? He’d never wondered that before.

“Thanks for coming in on such short notice. You’ve been with us for just over two years now, is that right?”

Mulder leaned back and decided to cross his legs again. “Yes, sir.”

“You studied medicine, but you chose not to practice. How did you come to work for the FBI?”

“Well, I was recruited out of medical school. I felt I could do good work here. Better, better work than I could as a doctor.”

Blevins nodded, expression not changing. “Are you familiar with the agent Dana Scully?”

Mulder had to work to keep a smile from his face. “Yes, yes, I am.”

The man sitting beside Blevins leaned forward. “How so?”

Mulder frowned. “Well, only by her reputation. She’s an Oxford educated psychologist, and worked as a profiler….By all accounts went a bit off the rails in recent years, though.” He shrugged.

Blevins sighed and nodded, though his expression remained somehow impassive throughout. “Well…yes. Agent Scully…has attached herself to a project outside the bureau mainstream. Do you know anything about the so-called X-files?”

“I…believe they have to do with unexplained phenomena.”

“More or less,” Blevins agreed. “The reason we’ve called you in today, Agent Mulder, is that we would like you to work with Agent Scully on these X-files. You will write field reports on the validity of the work being done by Agent Scully.”

Mulder blinked, a slight incredulous smile rising unbidden to his mouth. “Am I to understand you want me to debunk the X-files?”

Blevins exchanged a glance at the man sitting to his right. The other man in the room still hadn’t made a move to speak, merely watched, smoking a cigarette.

“We trust that you will make the proper scientific analysis,” Blevins concluded finally. “You’ll want to contact Agent Scully shortly. We look forward to seeing your reports.”




The office was in the basement, which Mulder might have tried to see as something other than a punishment if it weren’t so obviously one. At least it wasn’t for him. He was the reliable one, the scientist, the golden boy. Not to mention the newbie who would do as he was told.

He knocked on this door above another plaque, which announced Dana Scully’s name to anyone unfortunate enough to be banished to this part of the building.

“Come in,” a woman’s voice called.

Mulder entered, cased the room with his eyes. It was all very neat, but still busy. Many stacks of papers lay atop her desk, which held several photographs and case files as well. Five silver file cabinets were tucked against the back wall and a projector and microscope sat on another small table behind the desk, above which hung a poster. A UFO hovering above the words I want to believe.

Mulder smiled, bemused, as his gaze finally met his new partner’s. She was at least a head shorter than him, pretty, with red hair that curled to her shoulder.

“Hi there. I’m Agent Mulder. I’ve been assigned to work with you,” he said, reaching his hand out to shake. She had stood from her work at the desk when he’d entered, and she gripped his hand politely.

“It’s nice to meet you, Agent Mulder,” she said. “What did you do to get stuck with this detail?” A slight glint in her eyes, amusement or wariness or both, made him smile.

“I look forward to working with you, actually.” It was true; he had to admit to being intrigued by her strangely professional—yet determinedly different, as the poster was enough evidence of—air in this basement atmosphere. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Mulder added, to gauge her response.

“Really?” Scully sat down once more. There wasn’t another chair. Mulder sat on the desk, which made her frown, though she didn’t comment on it.

“I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me,” she said, tone free of any wariness or aggression. Mulder smiled, perhaps his first real smile. He liked her bluntness, and she didn’t even seem threatened by him.

“I’m here to assist you in your work, Scully. I want the truth, whatever that may be.”

Scully tilted her head and nodded. Standing, she set the projector on the desk and flicked it on. “Have a look at this, then.”

—737 words (~200 words of quotes)

for bella~

PLEASE BELLA THIS IS ADORABLE !!! I loved it a lot~ I don’t really have any overall edits because of that so let’s get into some line-by-line! even these will probably end up being nitpicky, but I have to say something haha…I’ll probably get into some grammar/sentence-specific edits primarily, just to polish up the piece a bit.

bella wrote:

“Fabian?”

“Yes, Meryn?”

“Are you still there?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m scared that if I fall asleep I won't ever wake back up.”

I love opening with dialogue!! I also like how we get to know the characters’ dynamic pretty well just from these few lines.

bella wrote:

“I will never let that happen, Death can’t take you away from me. Your’re mine, your’re mine Meryn. And I won’t ever let anyone take you away.”

(This is so good, btw. ) Just a grammar issue~ you are, or you’re, mine.

bella wrote:

“It hurts.”

“I know, but you must rest. Or else you won’t get better.”

“I want to see the stars.”

“You can’t right now Meryn, you have to stay here in the cabin to recover,”

“Then tell me a story, my favorite story.”

Some more dialogue! I love the simplicity, you don’t need any dialogue tags or description, the dialogue, well, speaks for itself.

bella wrote:

“Alright,” Fabian struck a match and lit a lantern on the table by his chair, illuminating the cramped space. The girl he loved lay deathly still on a cot, her skin pale, dark hair sticking to her clammy face. An ever growing red spot stained the white cloth that wrapped around her waist. The fight had gone out of her violet eyes and her stubborn jaw was clenched in pain. This had been the worst day of his life, the raid had gone horribly wrong. He never should have let her come, but she washad been determined to accompany him. “You’re always getting into trouble, I might as well help you out and make sure you don’t get blown to bits,” she had laughed, when she was the one who ended up with a horrific knife wound.

I like giving us just a bit of information about how they ended up here and what their world looks like. I feel like this last sentence could be edited for smoothness and simplicity…

“You’re always getting into trouble. I need to be there to make sure you don’t get blown to bits!” She had laughed, but she was the one who’d ended up with a horrific knife wound.

Perhaps you could even add a nod to their marriage, eg, “wife’s orders” or something?

bella wrote:

His star-gazing, impenetrable, beautiful Meryn. She would get through this, she had to get through this. They’d only just been married.

Ouch

bella wrote:

He took her hand in his, he and rubbed the small gold ring on her finger absentmindedly.

Love this little action!

bella wrote:

He coughed and began, “Long ago a young Godgod? named Aristedes stumbled upon a beautiful maiden who was singing in a meadow. He immediately fell deeply in love with the girl and her song, and he came back every day to listen to her while he hid behind the trees. After weeks of visiting the clearing, he finally found the courage to speak to her, and they conversed animatedly for many hours until the stars appeared. He learned her name was Ione and that she loved to admire the heavens. They continued to meet and gaze upon the stars together, whenuntil one daynight? she did not appear.” Meryn’s hand tightened in his as he continued,

I really like this! The story is really nice. Perhaps add a bit about his voice shaking, or him stumbling over his words? Just adding another link of emotion from the story to the present would help break the long paragraph up, although her hand is already a great one! (I also made some small grammar and other edits—the adjective I just felt wasn’t necessary, although feel free to keep it if you like! )

bella wrote:

“Aristedes worried greatly and waited there until the early hours of the morning, hoping she would show. He then ventured into the nearby village, trying to catch sight of her but the agora was full of people. Each heavily dressed in black, confusion plagued Aristedes until he saw a group of people weaving through the crowd. They were carrying a casket and laid peacefully atop it, with her hands folded across her chest, lay Ione. Her chestnut hair pooling around her face and her normally tan skin a deathly pallor. Pain tore through Aristedes as he looked upon his dead love, as she had gone where he could not follow. In honor of her memory, he painted Ione in the stars, and would go to their meadow and gaze upon her splendor every night for the rest of time.”

Aww </3

bella wrote:

“I love that story,” Meryn whispered, her eyelids drooping.

Fabian fought the sudden urge to fidget and responded, “I can’t imagine why, it’s terribly glum.”

“It’s true love…” She trailed off, her sleepiness finally giving way as her eyelids dropped.

Please omg, I love this interaction!! (glum is such a cute word by the way?)

bella wrote:

He tightened his grip and stammered, “Stay with me Meryn, stay with me so we can gaze on the constellations again together. If not for me, stay for the stars.” She remained still, her breathing hitched and irregular. “I'm not like Aristedes, even if I’m just as handsome,” her lip quirked in a small smile. “And I can’t paint you in the stars, so stay with me.” He lay his head down next to hers and watched over her until the lantern burned low and they both fell into a fitful sleep.

Aww, this ending (not as depressing as I’d feared)! I feel like it could be drawn out a little more, just for pacing’s sake, it feels a little fast. Perhaps have him talk a bit longer, say a few more things nervously, ramble on a bit before pausing and watching her. Otherwise, what you do have here is lovely!

Thanks so much for letting me read your piece! I really enjoyed it! Most of my edits and suggestions were really tiny and probably about things you just didn’t catch since you haven’t gone through and edited it. I hope it’s helpful nonetheless!


—370 words of critique

thank you notes

hosts ~ thanks for keeping this camp running, for being professional but still funny and kind, and just doing everything you do! SWC is the best and it’s in large part thanks to you <3

leaders ~ thanks for always being kind, helpful, and enthusiastic. y’all are the best and i’m so glad i had the privilege to be part of the team this session! <33

campers, SWC in general ~ thanks for enjoying the chaos, always being willing to ask or answer questions, and creating one of the most fun sessions yet! everyone that i’ve met in SWC this session and those past has been wonderful, so thank you all who are or have been a part of it; you’re the best <3

fan-fi campers ~ it was so great to be one of your co’s this session ! thanks for sharing your cabin spirit, doing dailies and weeklies and fighting cabin wars/balrog-gurtle enthusiastically. of course, thanks for contributing to the wonderful chaos of our cabin storyline as well! i hope you guys had as much fun as i did <33

soki ~ soki!!! thank you so much for choosing me as one of your co’s, i had such fun, and i really enjoyed being around your creativity and ideas, especially after being a camper in your cabins in the past! <3 you were a lovely leader, and i feel like i learned even more this session about being a leader/co, so thank you so much

nini ~ it was so fun to co together, nini! thanks for putting together some lovely final cabin colors and always having great ideas to share! i’d love to talk to you more outside of cabin planning sometime <3

bookie ~ thank you so much for everything you did for fan-fi, bookie! i feel like you were always there to lend a helping hand, and it was lovely. i’d love to get to know you better next session or in-between, you were always fun and enthusiastic, so thanks again for being our lovely third co! <3

chuey ~ chuey!! i loved hanging out more this session and roleplaying together was so fun!! (dw, i’m about to reply to the finding rp ;D) thanks for bringing a spirit of fun and chaos to fan-fi and SWC in general!! you’re the best <3

chrys ~ chrys!! i’d seen you around before SWC but we never really talked, i’m glad we got a chance to interact more this month. i hope you had a lovely session here in fan-fi!! it was so great to have you and rant about clones and such. thanks for being awesome! <3

eevee ~ eevee!! it was so lovely to get to know you better this session, and i hope we talk lots more in the future <33 you’re always wonderful and kind, and thanks for your last minute critiques and help <33 fantasy looked so cool and i hope you had a lovely session

crim ~ thanks for being cool and ofc ranting about x files with me and writing fanfics and uhh yeah time for our matching icons again?!?! ;0 hope you had a wonderful session in fantasy :star_struck:

—523 words

for eevee~

I’m just gonna do an overview so this can be quick since the deadline is coming up~ but here we go!
— I really liked the piece! it was super fun to read, and the POV was great fun as well. there were a few points where I was a touch confused, perhaps because I haven’t read the original (which I need to do :0); I guess I’m just not too clear on the worldbuilding, why they’re doing what they’re doing and taking Cheese Junior; perhaps that was intentional as Cheese Junior doesn’t always seem to understand what they’re saying, so some of that is obviously okay, but just a comment or two at the beginning about his confusion might help make that clear if that’s the case.
— another thing I’m not totally sure about is how you’ve incorporated all these ingredients, which is fine, but if something is, for example, a flashback, I didn’t catch that and a tense change would help make that clear.
— other than that, I really loved the piece and especially liked the ending—Cheese Junior’s interactions with the frog and his confusion as to its identity at first was really funny. so great job, and good luck finishing up the weekly! hope this helps somewhat <3

—211 words