♖ Immortal They Shall Be
644 words

Days after what had seemed to be the end of the world, Argloth sat beside the Director. Behind them spanned the ruins of the City - now barely anything more than ashes, after the rage of the Cosmics rained from above. The rebellion had won, in the end, but at a cost. All homes above land destroyed completely, a tear in the permanent clouds, and dozens, if not hundreds, dead. Some were innocent civilians. Most were fellow rebels, hurtling with passion into the crossfire and the aftermath, and not making it out.

Argloth clasped the Director's hidden hand as they kneeled in front of the crumbling remains of the Cosmic champion's castle. A crowd of the surviving members of the rebellion gathered behind them, watching and mourning silently. Abruptly, the Director's movements ceased.
“I- i can't do this,” they murmured. “I don't-”
Argloth squeezed their hand tighter, looking up to meet their dim gaze. He stared back, his own eyes blazing with deep, determined flame.
“No.” he said, with a finality ringing about it. “You can do this- we can do this. Together.“
Their trembling touch steadying, the Director nodded slowly.
”Y-you're right,“ they echoed. ”We can do this. We can do this.“

Pulling themselves upright, Argloth and the Director turned back to the crowd. Drawing themself to their full, towering height, the Director's voice rang out above the grieving faces.

”Today, my rebels, we gather - though we do so for a different cause,“ they announce, holding in their hands the ceremonial floating lantern, with the empty bowl attached to its bottom. ”Today, we gather not to fight, but to honour. We will honour our fallen the way they would honour us. We will preserve their lives and legacies, sending them out into the sky to be sent to the realm of celestials and heroes. And there they will stay, their souls at peace forevermore.“

”But first,“ Argloth piped in. ”The Picking.“
And from his feet he drew flowers - an armful of them, all shapes and sizes, a bright spot of colour among the sea of grey. Reaching down, he picked the first.

”First,“ said the Director, kneeling so their partner could place them in the lantern's bowl. ”Snowdrops, for all they did to give us, and the rest of the city, hope. Without them, none of this would have been achieved, and we would never have freed ourselves. Their brave souls were a light in our darkness, a burning flame for the hopeless to follow.“

”Second,“ they continued, as Argloth placed more flowers in the bowl. ”Marigolds, for they were part of us, and part of our whole, and forever will be. Our brethren and our kin. We shall mourn them with all our hearts, until the celestials themselves might hear our cries, for that is what they deserve.“

”Third,“ they said, hands starting to tremble once more. ”Dandelions, as a thanks for all they put into our cause. Their loyalty was unwavering, and it was because of that that we have managed to achieve so much. Without them, we would not have stood a chance. They did our peoples a great service, and loyalty to the rights of others is an treasured value in deed.“

”Fourth, and last but not least,“ said the Director at last, after a long pause. ”Amaranths, for immortal they were not but immortal they shall be, for from now on we will never forget the day they sacrificed their lives for us, and from now on they will be remembered until the true end of days, until there will no longer be anyone on our planet to honour their memory. In writing and in prose, they shall live forever.”

And with that, Argloth stepped backward, and the Director raised their hands to the sky. And the lantern floated on, carrying a trail of brave souls.

♖ 4th Weekly
3,851 words as of November 30th :(

Beginning: Write 100 words to begin your adventure.
160 words

Ryan huddled in a clearing, breaths hard and heavy. Beside him lay Erik, who mumbled harshly under his breath, spectral smoke-mist pouring out from inside his hood. Ash and dirt coated both in a layer of grime, not adding to their comfort. It had only been a few minutes since the human military had ambushed their town, but it felt like an hour they had been running, feet pounding non-stop on the ground. The Council's words still rang clear as morning bells in Ryan's mind.

“Run!” they had urged each youth, each child. “Run, before they get you. We can't let everything our town stands for be in vain!”

So they had. Ryan, grabbing Erik's hand and Bronagh's, running into the woods that sealed their home, Aisling and Seishin right behind him. Somewhere along the way, something had torn their little group apart, and now it was just him and Erik.

He sighed, gazing up at the sun for hope.

1. Everything has an entirely random chance in the Bi-Fi Cinema, and so does your writing. Roll a standard six-sided die. Multiply that number by 100, and write at least that many words.

Number: 500 (5 x 100)
572 words

Meanwhile an hour later, at the edge of the forest, sat Bronagh and Seishin, feeling rather lost. The world around them was strange and foreign, seemingly too big and too wide. For all their lives (or unlife), they had lived in Town, never venturing out beyond the thick woods that ringed their home just like so many others. And now that they were outside of it… Seishin shivered, uncharacteristically quiet.

Bronagh sniffled at her side, and when she spoke her voice was more hoarse than usual. “What do we do?” she asked for the third time since they'd gotten there. “The humans are looking for us… Ryan, Erik, and Aisling are gone… we're all alone… and w-”
“I don't know!” Seishin snapped, scuttling away. “I don't know, okay? I don't know what we're going to do or what's going to happen! So- stop asking, okay? We're in the exact same boat,”
The other girl flinched. “Alright,” she murmured, looking away.

Suddenly, a rustling of leaves caught their ears. The two stiffened.
“Who's there?” said Seishin, all eight of her eyes flickering open. She drew herself up to her full height, shielding Bronagh slightly. “Come out!”
The rustling resumed. From the depths of the bushes around them, there first came a green-tinged hand, and then a foot, and then a whole person, pushing their way out of the thick greens.

The person stood up, unfolding herself. She looked up, brown curls framing her otherworldly face.
“Seishin? Bronagh?” they asked carefully.
“Aisling!” said Seishin, mouth splitting into a wide grin. She stepped aside from Bronagh, scuttling closer to her other friend. “It's you!”
Eyes widening, Bronagh let out a small, relieved noise.
“…Aisling?” she whispered excitedly. “Are you alright? Are you injured?”

“Yes to both,” Aisling grinned sharply. “A couple small bruises, but I think I'll be fine. Are you two injured?”
Seishin shook her head. “Nope. I don't know about Bronagh, though,”
“A few cuts…” Bronagh mumbled, glancing at her exposed arms. “I'll be okay,”

Aisling looked out at the wide expanse of grass just after the forest border. It seemed to go on forever, continuing down the slope of a hill. Beyond that, though, were blocky grey towers, reaching up to the sky. Smaller buildings of slightly different colours dotted the cityline, and lights flickered everywhere. A human city.
She exhaled slowly.

“So,” said Aisling, turning back to their companions. “Do you have any plans for what to do?”
Bronagh shrugged. “No, not really.”
“N-” Seishin frowned intensely, staring out at the city. Her face lit up. “Kind of! Do you… do you think we should go there? To the human city,”
Bronagh pointed at the tall grey buildings. “There? We're going to get caught and killed if we go there, Seishin…”
“Well they're going to find us anyway if we stay here!” she retorted indignantly. “Maybe- maybe we can go undercover there, or something! Blend in and stay safe!”

Bronagh looked at her doubtfully. Seishin stuck her tongue out in return, then nudged Aisling.
'What do you think?“ she asked.
Aisling gazed at the ground thoughtfully, death still. ”I don't think it's a half bad idea,“ she said, head snapping back up. ”It might give us more cover,“
Seishin nodded. ”So that's where we're going, then?“ she checked. The other two chorused an agreement.

”Okay!“ said the jorogumo, a strained smile on her face. ”To the human city we go, then,"

2. Well, what would happen if characters just happened to disappear for a duration of time in your story? In the next 150 words, do not mention any of your characters at all (you could focus a lot on the setting or use a lot of passive voice)!
187 words

The meadow didn't feel safe anymore. With every passing minute, it felt as if the hostile humans would burst inside, strange guns loaded, gigantic vehicle machines at their backs.

So it was time to move on, and the place of temporary shelter was left behind in favour of searching for lost friends, separated in the rush and panic. Leaves crunched underfoot as the hours wound by. All around was forest, and more forest, a mass of greens and browns that never seemed to end. The silence was filled only with the sounds of the animals both mundane and more, aside from whispered words of reassurance that safety would come soon.

Eventually, when all seemed lost and a collapse born of exhaustion seemed imminent, the edge of the tree line came into view, bordering on a wide plain of tall, bright grass. Ahead of it were lights and buildings, far larger and taller than any of the ones seen in Town. As tiredness set in, it seemed as if there was only one more way they could go, for waiting seemed just as dangerous as before.

The city.

3. What seemed like a perfectly normal, cozy inn ended up being some sort of an escape room. Sometimes, things aren't quite what they seem. In the next 150 words, build up a happy scene, only to incorporate a dark twist.
279 words

As it turned out, Bronagh didn't like human cities. Everything was loud, too loud, and it was so full of people and so, so crowded. The air practically tasted of misfortune. It wasn't like home back in Town, or like in Aidhne all those years ago. It was different, and frightening, and as she and Seishin walked through the busy streets, she gripped Seishin's arm tightly.

Bronagh wished she was back home with Ryan and Erik and- wait, Erik?
She squinted. Standing a few paces in front with their backs to them were two people - one with a familiar mess of brown hair and the other with a bright, orange hood. She'd never seen anyone else wear an orange hood.

“…Seishin, Aisling,” she whispered, nudging her friends slightly. She pointed. “It's them, it's really them,”
Without waiting for a reply, Bronagh made towards the orange hooded person eagerly.
“Erik, Ryan!” she hissed, reaching her hand out. “Erik, it's us!”
The person turned with a flash of white - his mask, it had to be his mask. How very like him, she thought, to wear something so out of the norm when they were supposed to be blending in. She watched as he turned, and-

It wasn't Erik.

“Can I help you?” the stranger asked. Bronagh's heart dropped to her stomach.
“No…” she mumbled, and drew away. “Sorry,”

Later, as Aisling and Seishin crowded around her, she realised one thing: they were probably alone, in this gigantic city full of humans who no doubt would slaughter them if they were found out.

And there would be no one else to help them. No Erik, no Ryan, no Town Council.
No one.

4. I don't know about you, but Dystopian Realm is giving me Bejeweled - Taylor Swift vibes. For the next 5 minutes, your character will walk into a room/situation with newfound confidence, practically dazzling everybody nearby.
276 words

Deep breaths, Ryan, he thought to himself as he and Erik stood at the edge of the city, after having passed through the plains. Deep breaths. They're just fellow humans. Just like you.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Ryan turned to his ghost friend. “Come on, Erik,” he said, tugging him into the city. “Let's try to find Aisling and the others - I have a feeling they'll be here,”

The actual crossover into the city felt earth shattering, to him, but he held his head high and walked with focus, pulling Erik along behind him. Years of observing others bled into his walk, and subconsciously, Ryan began to mimic the other humans crowding around them. Mind your own business, and look like you knew what you were doing. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be.

Keeping his head down, but not too much as to draw attention, Ryan helped Erik through the tasks of asking for directions, collecting information, and more. All this he did with ease. He greeted the people they talked to neutrally, seemingly almost bored, and he walked as if he knew where he was going (which Erik knew he didn't).
Eventually, Erik pulled Ryan into a side alley, staring him in the eyes.

“That was awesome,” he said, and at last the human's confident facade seemed to break. "I didn't know you could act like- do- that!
Ryan laughed, high pitched and nervous. “Do what?” he said weakly, burying his head in his hands. Then, in a quieter voice, “Erik- I genuinely have no idea what I'm doing.”
Erik laughed. “Oh, I know,”

5. A Naan-FI camper takes your order, but your bread needs to bake before you can eat it! The recipe only calls for a half hour or so of baking. You can wait. Write for 26 minutes while your bread sits in the oven.
431 words

Aisling wasn't sure how to feel about human cities. She didn't like it, mostly (the whole area was a gigantic slab of concrete. How could anyone stand it?), but the humans seemed happy, and it was amusing to see them in their natural habitat. It was also the one place that currently offered safety to them. Humming, Aisling watched the buildings go by as the three of them walked, not heading anywhere particular.

“Say,” they said, guiding them all to a small park just at the end of the road. “What are we looking to do now, exactly?”
Beside them, Seishin made a face, turning away from the people who were staring at her.
“We haven't decided yet,” she began. “But I thought we could stay here lay low while we try to find everyone else. Erik did say having a home base is important in missions!”
“We could also try to gather information from the humans…” piped in Bronagh, trailing off as she fell into thought.
Seishin snapped her fingers. “That's right! Maybe we can find something important!”

“How are we going to find a place to stay?” asked Aisling, sitting on a park bench. Immediately, the flora around seemed to have a simultaneous chain reaction, brightening and leaning ever so slightly closer to her. Bronagh joined her daintily.

“…We could get favours from the humans,” she suggested. “We help them and they help us,”
Aisling nodded. “I suppose that might work. What if we just try to get someone to take us in?”
“It might be hard to find someone willing to…”

Seishin groaned. “I wish Erik were here,” she wailed. “He knows everything about humans,”
“Not Ryan?” Aisling questioned, turning around to face her.
“Ryan's too busy studying them like lab rats,” she shrugged, then absent mindedly began playing with a spider that had found its way onto their bench.
Aisling agreed reluctantly, then shot a sharp look at the people still staring. Would they stop giving Seishin stares she hadn't asked for?

As the silence spanned longer, Bronagh cried out in triumph, emerging from her thoughts.
“You know…” she said, half to herself and half to her companions. “We could also just find an abandoned house and live in it for a while,”
Startled, the other two stared at her blankly before scrambling to agree.

“Oh, that's right! We could just do that instead- yeah, let's do that,” Seishin grinned, embarassed at getting distracted..
Aisling nodded seriously. “I certainly wouldn't like to be an abandoned house without an owner. I suppose we could be its new ones,”

6. Out of nowhere, you begin to have a sinking feeling… no, literally. Or perhaps that sinking feeling is both metaphorical and literal. In the next 150 words, your character begins to sink, whether that's through a body of water, through mud/quicksand, or through the floor.
528 words

On the other side of the city, Ryan and Erik trudged through the streets, both completely buried in their own heads, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“Woah,” said Ryan suddenly, gazing around at all the people milling about. Street lights changed and the city's rhythm beat in the background. “Humans are really a lot different than I thought they would be,”
Erik jumped, startled at the sudden breach in silence.
“What?” he said, stopping in his tracks in a particular patch of grey on the sidewalk. "You're human, Ryan“

Ryan winced, looking away. ”But- you know, it's-“ he gestured vaguely. ”-Different, I guess. I'm a Town human.“
”Right.“ said Erik, joining him in his people-watching. For some reason, the ground under him felt softer than usual, but it was probably just a phantom feeling.
”And,“ said Ryan, face turning thoughtful. ”You were human too,“
”I hate it when you have a point,“ Erik groaned, shifting onto the heels of his feet for comfort. A strange heaviness began creeping up his feet. ”I-“

”Uhm, hello?“ said someone, walking up behind them. ”I think your friend is sinking.“

”What?“ Ryan frowned. ”That can't be right, we're not anywhere near w-“
”Ryan,“ Erik's voice turned high and panicked. ”I think I'm actually sinking!“
”What?“ Ryan flailed, grabbing his friend's arm. The stranger beside them rushed to help despite his protest.

A loud squelch and plenty of strained noises later, Erik popped out of the patch, socks covered in grey gunk.
”Sorry about that,“ Ryan smiled shakily at their new company. They were an older person, face somewhat weathered with age but not quite that old yet.
”It's alright,“ they nodded, then turned to Erik. ”Are you okay, kid?“
The ghost in question flashed a thumbs up. ”Yeah,“ he replied, pulling himself up. ”I hate wet concrete,“
The stranger laughed. ”Be more careful next time, alright?“ they said, then paused. ”You two seemed lost earlier. Do you need help getting somewhere?“

”Uhm,“ said Ryan. ”See, the thing is- we're, uh- not really… from around here? That's okay, though, because-“
”You don't have anywhere to stay? Not even with your parents?“
”See, well, we don't really… uh…“
”No,“ Erik piped up, every the opportunist. ”But if you wouldn't mind maybe taking us in…“

They brightened, the frown that had been growing on their face dispersing. ”Oh, of course you can stay with me for a while!“ they assured sympathetically. ”I wouldn't want two kids like you two to have to sleep on the streets…“
Erik beamed, pulling himself out of yet another patch of wet concrete. ”Great!“ he said. ”Thanks,“
”No problem, erm…“ they looked him up and down.
”His name is Erik,“ Ryan butt in. ”You can call me Ryan,“
”Most people call me Yora,“ they said. ”It's nice to meet you two. Do you want to head over to my house now?“

Nodding, Ryan faked a smile, shooting Yora a wary glance. Then, he rounded on Erik, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
”You shouldn't have done that!“ he whispered anxiously. ”Do you know what you just got us into?“
Erik smirked cockily. ”A new home base, that's what,"

7. You and your partner are rounding up the goods in a train car, and you plan to split the work. Flip a coin! If you get heads: the conductor comes in and catches sight of you, and you have to sprint for 20 minutes to get away. If you get tails: You have to secure your partner's goods as well as yours; write 500 words as fast as you can.
549 words

Coin Flip Result: Tails
Time taken: About 35 minutes?

It had been about a few days since they'd arrived in the city, and Seishin could already tell the other two were getting antsy. Not that she wasn't either of course, but focusing on the task at hand would get her mind off of it well enough. Bronagh seemed to be having a hard time being around all the dangers of the city, and only withdrew more by the day. Aisling, meanwhile, absolutely despised the lack of wildlife in most parts of the city, and was still bitter at all iron lying in various appliances around in it.

It certainly didn't help that they had barely made any progress. Each and every day, the three of them split up to roam different parts of the city (and occasionally the plains outside of it, as well as the forest line) to search for the other survivors of their town raid. No Ryan, no Erik, and not a single sighting of any of the other townsfolk who'd been told to run. The closest they came to progress were the news and gossip, though that did nothing to assure them.

Both often spoke of the military successfully capturing and finding more and more ‘mysterious monsters’ and whatever they called them. No photos were depicted, but unease was on the rise in the city, and Seishin didn't like how much more danger it put them in.

Also, she was getting really itchy in her human form. And hungry too.

She sighed, glancing at Bronagh and Aisling from across the battered table. The mouldy walls rose up around them, and water dripped from the ceiling.
“Did any of you find anything?” Seishin asked at last, idly messing with a stolen phone that none of them even knew how to operate.
Bronagh moaned tiredly. A no, then. She looked at Aisling.
“I didn't find anything, but there were a few rumours floating around,” they shrugged. Ever since they'd first gotten burnt by all the iron, she'd ingrained herself in the local human rumour mill, trying to find ways to get back at whoever was responsible for all the iron used in the city. “Some strange unexplained happenings going on in the eastern section of the city, they said,”
“Oh!” Seishin shot up. “Let's investigate that, then!”

The other glanced at each other knowingly.

“We've been thinking…” Bronagh began, staring hard at the ground. “Maybe we should focus on getting our bearings first,”
Aisling nodded distractedly, looking at the moss that grew on the walls. “We're almost out of food, too,” she said.

Seishin groaned. They had a point. They had no food left, their home base was barely holding itself together, they still had no idea how most of human technology worked, and some more general reconnaissance looked like it would be helpful in securing their safety here. But… a silent terror gripped her at the thought of what might happen if they left it for too long, if they got too comfortable. Things would only get worse, right? She really was also starting to miss the others a lot - though she supposed that this was what being apart from your best friend for so long did to you.

“Fine,” she conceded eventually. “But we're going to investigate and look for Erik and Ryan after.”

8. In preparing for a final battle, you'll absolutely need to work with your environment as much as you can! In the next 100 words, your character is forced to face a challenging obstacle pertaining to the setting.
231 words

In the few days they had been there, Erik and Ryan had settled in with Yora suprisingly well. They treated them with more kindness than any other city human had, though Ryan could tell they were a tad suspicious. Things still felt strangely comfortable, though.
But then he stared at the stairs that lead up to Yora's flat, and the comfort disappeared. Ryan sighed. Reluctantly, he began trudging up them.

The seconds ticked by painfully slow. Every step he took sent tremors throughout his whole body. And still the stairs towered on out of sight, rising higher and higher until it reached the top and eighth level of the ginormous building. Sweat pooled on his brow and his knees shook, clacking together harshy. Panting, Ryan pulled himself up another stair, dread filling him at the prospect of continuing this torture.

Town didn't have buildings this high, he bemoaned.

Groaning, he took yet another shaky step up, blind and deaf to the world around him, including the presence Yora and Erik. Letting himself focus on climbing and that only, he soon found himself on the sixth floor, right in front of Yora's flat. With a squeaky noise like a balloon deflating, Ryan collapsed to the ground.

“So… tired…” he said.
Yora laughed. “Of course you are,” they said affectionately. “You know you could've just used the elevator, right?”
He whipped around. "What?"

9. Some characters prefer isolation, while others completely abhor it. In the next 150 words, place a character in isolation and write in detail how they react to the loneliness.
269 words

“Hey, no-” yelled Erik, kicing against the officers who gripped his arms. "Get off me!“
”Stop!“ Ryan cried out as panic flew over the crowd. ”Leave him alone! Please!" Vaguely, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, but he turned away, focusing on Erik.

Then, one of the officers pulled out a weapon.
The mall erupted into chaos.

.

Everything had gotten so bad, so fast.
One moment, Yora had insisted on taking them clothes shopping, and the next, his mask had been pulled off by a security guard, and his hood blown back to reveal his transparency, and then people were shouting, and he was being tussled around and someone pulled out a weapon and-
Now he was here. Alone.

Erik shivered.
The room was cold.

The last time he'd been alone in an empty room was when… when it happened. When his parents were out, and the heat grew suddenly, and flames licked at his home and smoke crept into the room. In the isolation room, Erik's grip on his arms tightened, remembering. If he had any breath left, he'd be hyperventilating, chest heaving up and down. Instead, spectral smoke billowed out of where his mouth would be, filling the room.

He curled in on himself. He hadn't realised, then. Not until it was too late, until fire burned just outside his door, smoke filled his lungs. Clawing his way to the closed window, only for his eyes to water and his breath to choke in his throat and for him to realise: this was the end.

Erik tore his thoughts away from the memory angrily.

10. Magnifying glasses help us see details that would otherwise be impossible to notice; perfect for discovering details in clues! In the next 125 words, your character has an epiphany and notices something of great importance in something they had previously ignored/neglected.
183 words

Ryan sat on a bench in the mall, biting his nails, his knees drawn up to his chest. Yora sat beside him, looking conflicted.
“Ryan?” said the older human. “Are you feeling better now?”
He shook his head, staring at the floor.
Yora sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

For a moment, he stayed quiet. Then, it came flooding out.
"I don't know what to do!“ he said. ”Erik's been taken, I still haven't found anyone else from Town, we lied to you and I don't want you to hate us like the other humans, and I feel so lost, and- and- I keep thinking of someone saying my name in the rush, and it's so familiar but I can't-“
A frustrated scream escaped from his throat.

Yora raised an eyebrow. ”Someone called your name?“
He nodded. ”Yes, but I- It sounds so familiar, but I don't know why! It tinkled, kind of- like their voice were bells, and it reminded me of home, deer, fae rings and-“
Ryan bolted upright.

”Wait,“ he said. ”I think I know who it is,"

11. You stumble across a little village; the Folklore leaders invite you in to relax and enjoy a delicious bowl of Lio's famous soup. Write 200 words at your own pace while the mysterious quartet tells stories around the campfire.
186 words

“That was Erik!” Seishin gasps, pulling the other two away. “We have to go help him!”
Aisling nods. “That's what we stayed here for,” she said, and darted back into the crowd. “Ryan!” she yelled. Ryan turned his back to the crowd. She cursed under her breath.
Following worriedly, Bronagh called after her friends. “Don't we need a plan first?” she asked, and was promptly ignored.

“Ryan!” yelled Aisling again. “Ryan L-”
“Aisling, stop.” Bronagh pulled her down. “You know we shouldn't-” she sighed, then twisted around to search for Seishin. “We need a plan first,”
Grabbing Seishin's hand and taking them all out of the centre of the crowd, the three watched as Erik was dragged away.
Bronagh sighed. “If you'd rushed in there, that could have been us as well…” she bemoaned.

Seishin kicked guiltily at the floor. “Sorry,” she tried to smile. “Let's just look for Ryan when it's a little more quiet! Capiche?”
Reluctantly, Aisling nodded, glancing back at where the crowd was already dispersing. In the middle of it all stood Ryan, next to an older human.
“Okay,” they said finally.

12. x
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(certificate)

(submission code)

24th of November - Main Cabin Daily
887 words

First Timeline: In a fantasy setting in the medieval ages
Second Timeline: In a futuristic sci-fi world, somewhere in the year 2908

Steadily, Myleth trekked up the mountain top, hands clenched and face stony even as his cheeks grew redder from the cold each minute. Thoughts trailing back to his comrades, the elf shook his head harshly. He wouldn't let anyone stop him from getting to the thing he'd searched for for the last five years, not even them.
He frowned. It was for their own good, anyway. So, raising his head to the freezing winds, Myleth continued onwards.

//

Delta groaned, leaning back in her seat. This meeting was horrible. Dragging her hands down her face, sneaky fingers tapped at the control panel for her holographic visor, pulling up her favourite media in an attempt to drown out her father's endless droning. Managing the business this, calculations and concepts and investments that - she'd much rather see funny clips of baby robots instead.

Quietly slipping out of her chair, Delta hoped her father's business partners would keep him busy enough. Hopefully a walk would cure her boredom.

//

Setting his pack down and spreading out his bed roll, Myleth took a deep gulp from his waterskin. Its near-frozen water slushed down his throat like chunks of mud and ice, but it was all he had to stay hydrated. Leaning back against the brittle wall of his cave, Myleth's meager rations stared up from beside him, stirring guilt. He sighed.

Pushing his thoughts out of the way and taking out his map, he began planning his next steps. The thing he searched for was inside the mountain, just below the peak, so if he continued along the upwards-rising tunnel at the back of the cave, he would be able to reach it in no time. Of course, that was only if… if… if he…………

“Huh?” Myleth murmured blearily, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. “Oh.”
His eyes closed once more.

//

The world of lights seemed to spin around her. Delta slumped.
“Okay,” she grumbled. "I am definitely lost,"

Around her, the only thing she could see were flickery holograms advertising things from performances and plays to new products and the latest technology. The people who milled about gave her odd looks, and eventually, after hours wandering the area and debating on whether or not to contact her father, Delta gave up. Clearly, she was in the old part of the city, if the holograms advertising plays about elves were any clue. Only older citizens still gave thought to those (which was fair, considering elves had gone extinct more than a thousand years ago).

About to give in and contact her father, a strangely hued aura of light caught her eye. Coming from a crack in the city's walls, it seemed to come from somewhere far, far deeper.

And against her best instincts, Delta approached it.

//

The next morning, Myleth got up with a determined look on his face and eyes that studied the cave walls around him. It was the day - he could feel it. The day he finally found what he was looking for and brought good to him and his comrades down below. Snatching up his things, he took a swig from the waterskin and began his journey.
Hours, spent walking through the winding tunnels, listening for beasts and lighting torches every time the previous one burned out completely. Thinking, watching, forcing himself to press on.

And finally, he was there. In a large cavern filled with moss and shielded from the cold, Myleth found it at last.
A crack in the wall, filled with a humming and a strange crackle. Surrounded by metal tiles and carved rock, its centre a whirling pool of stars and colours. A gateway. A key.
Myleth grinned triumphantly. Putting one foot forward, he stepped through.

//

As if drawn by into a trance, Delta felt herself being pulled forward. Into the crevice she went, and as she ran deeper down (with her thoughts echoing within her mind emptily), the smooth metallic walls faded into more ancient materials, from concrete to strange tiles (was it ceramic?), to even plain stone, carved with seemingly prehistoric drawings as it was.
The deeper she went, the stronger the light became, and the louder the strange humming grew too. It crackled through the air like used electronics and low quality holograms.

Then, the call brought her to an abrupt halt. An eerie green light shining upon her face, Delta shook herself to reality. It was only now that she noticed the state she was in. Her internal manifestation of her father grimaced. Kneeling down unsteadily, she winced at her broken hoverboots. They had been state of the art, too… such a shame.

Brushing dirt out of her hair, Delta looked forward. Instantly, she was mesmerised. An intricate machine stood before her, unlike any she had ever seen before. Circuitry and wires hidden just out of view, beautiful designs etched into the metal, a dust-covered control panel filled with more buttons, levers, and screens than she could imagine. It was a technological marvel.

Edging closer, Delta's amazement only grew as she studied the centre of it all. A whirling void, devoid of anything but stars, with cold winds and garbled static. Colours shifted just out of view.

Glancing around, she stepped even closer. Surely a little peek inside would be harmless, right? Of course, she reasoned.
She walked through.

♖ 25th of November - Main Cabin Daily
446 words

Picture chosen: https://www.onceuponapicture.co.uk/portfolio_page/no-words-just-notes/

“Thanks for coming to Lily's!” Janet bid her last customer of the day, waving. She watched them nod and make their way out the door, the bell tinkling when it closed. “Come back tomorrow!”
Then, everything was quiet. A comfortable static filled the air, like the warm rays of sunshine hitting your skin as it set below the horizon. Turning around, Janet grabbed a napkin and began cleaning. She rubbed and she wiped, and she dusted, and she swept. The repetition was soothing, somehow, and as she went through the motions yet again, time flew by.

Before she knew it, her little corner store shop was spotless. Smiling proudly at her hard work, Janet did a final glance around. Satisfied and sure that her grandmother Lily - the one from whom she'd inherited the shop from - would approve, she locked the door, drew her blinds, and made her way upstairs. There, she cleaned herself off. Changing into an evening dress, Janet strode to her window eagerly. Just in time.

Notes began wafting up from the street below. She leaned out, grinning widely as if the music were her greatest source of happiness. There he stood just as expected, with his guitar in hand and the little coin-hat by his feet. The stairwell was deserted, leaving behind an odd quality that both of them enjoyed.
Looking up, he waved warmly. Just behind him were the sounds of the bustling market under them, a centre of faraway light and people. Though, as she stood there and listened to him play, it faded into the background. It held nothing to his playing, a piece just for her, music played from both their heart songs intertwined.

Nothing passed between the two as he played. No words, no conversation. Only the plucking of strings and melody, and pleasant humming, soothing to the ear. In that moment, it felt as if the world around them had melted away, leaving just them in their little pocket of the universe, listening to the sweet melodies. Like they were two bright lights shining in an ethereal, yet blurred world of greys and blues.

This was their little tradition, and theirs only. Every night, he'd stand there on the stairs, playing. And every night, she'd be there to watch, to hear. Keeping each other company in silence. Trading soft smiles and recounting stories with only their movements.
They didn't need words.
Already, they had emotions, and the strange sort of understanding only two strangers with a special shared routine could have. A mix of comfort, kinship, and warm laughs and tiny waves and simplicity.

No words. Just notes.

Janet sighed peacefully, and let the world fade.

♖ History, and My Favourite Trope
355 words

You know, there's just something about a certain trope that always gets me. It's where a bunch of characters from history, from before the time of the story, are remembered, but not in the way you might expect. Because history is written by either the victors or the context lacking witnesses, and everything will always be warped by time. There's something about that fact that resonates, that gives me this strange feeling. It's as if, well:

Who you are, what matters to you right now, and your personal reasons won't matter. They won't be remembered. They won't last. ut what does last are your actions. They'll be there forever, cemented in history. And they're not accurate. No, that's impossible. There will always be something history gets wrong about you, about what you do and why you do it.

Because your story won't be told by you. It'll be told by your friends, and your enemies, and their friends, and their enemies, and their children and their children's children.
There's something profound, in the way it's so close to the truth. It's so close to what does happen in real life.

So yes, no matter in what scenario this trope is used in, I always find it fascinating, and it strikes something in me that most other tropes can't manage to do.

Imagining that the only thing left of you will be your actions and their effect on others, and what they decide to tell of your tale… it's scary, but in a way it's soothing. The same way some people might find strange piece in the concept of eldritch, cosmic horrors beyond our comprehension like that of HP Lovecraft, this trope makes me feel like my story and I are a small speck in the tapestry of the universe, but not an insignificant one. Small, yes, and changed and warped over time, but not insignificant.

I love it. I love this trope, and I love how it plucks my inner strings perfectly. And personally, I feel like it's a very underused one - which is why I'm planning to implement it in one of my stories.

Cabin Wars! 436 words

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

The roof above her is leaking. She sits silently against a wall, waiting patiently for the storm to pass. The only noise to be heard is the constant drip of water.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

Her body starts to shiver. There is nobody around for company. She sits alone in the cold, and presses her knees to her chest in an attempt to stay warm.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

In her mind, she wishes for the drips to stop, but her body cannot move. Her knees are fused to her chest, and she can’t move her hands. A timgling feeling spreads over her body, though she wasn’t going to move.

Drip.
Drip..

Slowly the dripping ceases, and now she sits in silence. She would call out, and speak with herself, but she can’t. Her voice won’t work. She can’t even remember what her voice sounds like. A single threatens to drip down her cheek. She hopes the storm will pass soon.

There are no drips. In the distance, she faintly hears what sounds like talking, but she knows she is just hallucinating. Her mind longs for interaction. Her body longs for movement. But she can’t. She won’t. She will just sit there, until the storm passes.

Someone fixed the leaking roof. There will never be any more drips. She feels sad, as if she were losing a friend. And in a way, she was. She knew the drip well, and the drip knew her. If only the storm would pass soon.

Soon, she forgets to think. She forgets how to feel. She has forgotton the world, and in return, the world has forgotton her. She will forever sit, against a wall, waiting for the storm to pass.

Suddenly, laughter erupts nearby. If she were thinking, she would think she is imagining it. But the voices were real. A small girl comes running past, and points excitedly at her. Maybe not everyone had forgotton her.

The small girl’s sweet voice filled her ears, the first sounds she had heard in what seemed like millennia. The girl picked her up. Look, Pa, look at this beautiful doll I found! I love her.

That single sentence revived something inside her that had not been found for months. She felt proud that someone wanted her, loved her. She thought sweet thoughts about this girl. She was slowly coming back to life.

The small girl did not put her back down when she left. She was brought back to her new forever home, and gratitude rippled through her body. She was loved again. She was a young girls’ doll again.

♖ Log #1
576 words

Based on my writing from last sessions's 4th Weekly

{A click is heard as the video log crackles on.

Someone walks into view. They wear a white spacesuit with the helmet taken off. A captain's hat propped up on their head, and there are shadows under their eyes. Despite it, they're smiling proudly, looking straight at the camera.}

"Crew Log #1 of Skeld-04, recording done by Captain Le- Captain White. Our ship has just launched a few hours ago, and all crewmates are accounted for. The medical checks went well; everyone seems to be in perfect health. Other necessary checkups have been done too, rooms have been divided up, and most are now heading to bed.“

{Captain White shifts the camera, revealing herself to be in her quarters. On the wall behind her a chart showing each member of the crew, their assigned name, their medical statistics, and other records. She waves at it before she continues.}

”As you can see here, we have everyone listed out, and I'll be printing updated copies this chart as time goes on. For now, I'll list the our crewmates on by one, as mandated by MIRA protocol.“

{The ship captain brings the camera closer yet again. Now with clear, unobstructed view of the chart, she begins pointing to the photos in turn.}

”First, we have me. Formal MIRA title of Captain White, legal name ‘lenloop’, preferred name and nickname Len.“

{A proud smile fills her face.}

”Also godmother to Charlie, legal name ‘Beete_e’, temporary MIRA name Banana. Her being here was… unexpected, but it's happened before on other ships and we're sure we can handle things.“

{Coughing comes from behind the camera. Captain White glares half-heartedly at whoever is in the room and moves on to the next photo.}

”Next is one of our janitors. Formal MIRA title of Pink, legal name ‘ColdMess0’, preferred name and nickname Zero.
Our other janitor is Blue. Legal name ‘sun2sky’, preferred name Suntusk. Then there's my second in command, Formal MIRA title Brown, legal name ‘BLINk3r’, preferred name Blink. Yellow, legal name ‘ProudD’, preferred name Eddie, is our researcher. Our medic and engineer are Lime - legal name ‘koolio<3’, preferred name Jeane - and Purple - legal name ‘grapeloverz’, preferred name Fern, respectively.“

{The person behind the camera laughs. They say something too low for the audio receptor to catch. Captain White sighs, seemingly distracted.}

”No, E- Yellow, I'm not giving you any special treatment in my logs. Your little girl might be my goddaughter but I am not going to treat you any different because of it.“

{Yellow, now identified, seems to gesture at something. Abruptly, Captain White turns back to the camera. Her face stony despite the embarrassed flush at being distracted from it. She clears her throat.}

”Back to our log, our chef's assigned MIRA title is Black, legal name ‘anIdiotsandWich’, preferred name Ani. Green - legal name ‘fourthethriL’, preferred name Ether - is our pilot. Our general crewmates are Orange and Red. Orange's legal name is ‘Cronchem’, and his preferred name is Fruit. Red's legal name is ‘hearth-fire’, and her preferred name is Hestia.“

{Captain White pauses. Then, she lowers her hand and and looks back at the camera.}

”That's all for today's log. The next log will be recorded in a week's time, and will contain updates on the ship's condition, the crew, and any findings, as well as estimates for when we'll arrive on Polus. Thank you."

{Captain White salutes.}

{Another click is heard as the video log flicks off}

omg I'm so sorry lol I realised I accidently posted a cabinwars piece in your thread oml-

Fr00ggy wrote:

omg I'm so sorry lol I realised I accidently posted a cabinwars piece in your thread oml-

It’s okay ahaha! /gen
Happens to everyone It’s really no bother - besides, your story’s very nice

Galaxy_Awesome wrote:

Fr00ggy wrote:

omg I'm so sorry lol I realised I accidently posted a cabinwars piece in your thread oml-

It’s okay ahaha! /gen
Happens to everyone It’s really no bother - besides, your story’s very nice

i really should pay attention to what forum i’m posting in lol-

also ty- it was kinda rushed and i had writers block, but i wanted to use that word drip for some reason xD

♖ An Alternate Reunion
595 words

Shadow Girl wasn’t quite sure how she got here. One moment, she had been floating in the void, three months after her death, and the next, she stood on a wooden platform surrounded by stone walls. It was so bright here…

Carefully pulling her pumpkin out of her inventory and slipping it on, her eyes screamed sweet relief. Satisfied, Shadow Girl stepped outside through the gate in the enclosure.
A loud gasp came from her right.

“Shadow Girl?” cried a very familiar voice. A set of thundering footsteps ran closer, and the next thing the shadow knew, she was being swept up in an awful, bone-crushing hug that she somehow couldn’t help but melt into.

“Shadow Girl!” The voice said again, pure happiness oozing out of every crevice. Peeling herself away slightly so that her vision was no longer filled with purple, Shadow Girl’s breath caught.

“Shulk?” She whispered, blinking rapidly. He couldn’t be here… Shulk had died. She’d seen it, there was no way he was here. He’d died, and then that pesky fairy had come along who’d looked so much like him but wasn’t like him at all, and…

Well.

She was supposed to be dead too. And yet here she was.

Maybe it really wasn’t that ridiculous to say he was here, after all.
Said shulk’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Shadow Girl! Shadow Girl!” He grinned, still squeezing her tightly. Shulker strength really wasn’t to be underestimated. Wheezing, Shadow Girl pulled herself away gently. “Shulk miss you, Shadow Girl!”

“Shulk!” She said in reply, doing a little jump to match his height. “I missed you too! How did you get here? I thought you were- I thought you were, well, dead!”

Abruptly, Shulk fell silent. Stroking his chin, he made a face so thoughtful and wrong on his features that Shadow Girl couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shulk doesn’t know, actually.” He concluded after several minutes of silence.

Shadow Girl grinned. “That’s okay!” She said, patting her best friend’s back. “At least we’re here together!”
Immediately, Shulk brightened like an excited puppy. “Yeah!” He chorused. “Shulk and Shadow Girl here together!”

Glancing around as silence fell on the two, Shadow Girl caught sight of the various wooden islands surrounding their main platform, connected by interwoven bridges. Looking down, she winced.
So this island- structure- base- whatever it was- was floating.
Definitely not reassuring whatsoever.

“Hey, Shulk?” She said, inspecting the outer island branches. “Want to explore this place?”
Shulk nodded, trembling with excitement. No doubt these floating islands felt like home to him - after all, they weren’t so different from the islands in the End.

“Come on!” Shadow Girl said. Running over to an island lines with rows of large fish tanks, the shulk and the shadow eagerly climbed up the ladder, watching the fish swim about.

At times, water sprayed them in their faces, but the two laughed it off. By the time they moved on to another island (this time filled with trees), both were drenched. Shulk’s green hair was a sopping, dull mess, and despite being somewhat non corporeal, Shadow Girl found herself damp too.

Looking for a moment to the centre island, Shulk pushed away the voice in his head that told him to break the block in the core of the main platform.

Having fun with Shadow Girl was far more important, after all.

And so the two friends went on, exploring the wooden islands they had found themselves on, experiencing a peace they had rarely felt before.

Content to enjoy each other’s company.

♖ Rue and Caper
558 words

Orrun “Rue” Talettwis is a gnome, a pirate, and someone who is, in all senses of the word, rowdy. They’re angry and they shout and they yell. It’s not whining, though, because their gun is always raised and their scimitar is always ready.
They’re inapproachable to anyone who isn’t their crew, their lover, or their motley group of misfits they’d suddenly collected one day and never abandoned since.
They don’t like people - except for their crew, their noblewoman, and people they can raid for money or valuable treasures. They glower and groan and most people who meet them cannot stand them at all.

Orrun “Rue” Talettwis is, in all ways possible, the complete antithesis of Neran, otherwise known as “Caper”.

Neran is a singer, an entertainer, and a warforged, and exists in all the ways the gnome captain is not. They smile, and they dance, and they jump about with an exaggerated excitement only they could pull off. And none of it’s an act, because they truly are a being of freedom and delight, and their lute is meant to bring joy to their audience.
They’re always approachable and amicable, and are that to anyone and everyone, with no exceptions, not even the group of somewhat strange misfits who they’d attached to one day and never let go of since.
They’re a pleaser and a performer at heart, and they love it. They love being around other people, they love playing their music and making jokes and lending smiles to their audience’s faces.

They tease and laugh, and their eyes shine with a light that feels so, so alive.

So it would come at a complete surprise, that the Captain of the Fiery Regret and Caper the Bard are one and the same.
They are not the same person (that much is certain), but their souls are identical, and only in the way reincarnations can be.
For as much as Rue Talettwis growls while Neran laughs, their cores are very much the same.

This is seen in the way hints of Rue leak into Neran. They both crave and desire freedom, and would do anything to get it.

For Neran, it’s freedom from being seen as a lifeless robot, from being a weapon of war and destruction.
For Rue, it’s freedom from being an invisible, unseen and under appreciated gnome like her kind, from being doomed to never be something, despite not being less than nothing.
They both crave individuality, and to cement themselves and break the bonds holding them back, to be something more than what they’re seen as.
Their ambition is what drives the two forward, whether to bring joy and peace or to make a mark on the world in whatever way possible.

Neran may always try to be the sunshine of their party, and Rue may always be the one most prone to anger out of theirs, but they both have different sides.

Fiercely loyal to a fault, determined and unweildy in the face of obstacles. Care for their loved ones and the will to keep them all safe.
The two are different, and almost complete opposites, but their souls are still one, simply in a different casing.
As many things are contrasting between them, they are also strangely alike. And that, perhaps is enough.

Maybe the two weren’t so different after all.

♖ Hansel
1,010 words

The thing about Hansel is that while he’s smart, and thinks before he talks, he doesn’t always do it. Sometimes, he makes decision out of pure emotion and instinct. It’s this that ends up driving him and Gretel apart in the end.

He’s always been protective of her, perhaps a little too much so. While Gretel is certainly capable of caring for herself, Hansel has had to care for her since they were wee children, and sometimes can’t help but view her as a small, helpless child.

He’s been putting his own feelings and emotions on the back burner for her for so long, and when that fateful day comes in the gingerbread candy house, it all comes spilling out.

The emotions Hansel has been repressing - anger at their father for abandoning and drifting away from them and being too consumed in his own grief, resentment at their mother for dying when they were so young, and pure rage and tiredness of his stepmother’s attitude and mistreatment of them.

Bitterness at having lost parts of his childhood, longing for a better life.

It all comes spilling out, and that’s what does Hansel in, in the end.
He’s had his first taste of life outside of working tirelessly for his family, and the magic he’s wanted to spirit him and his sister away from it all for so long.

And he loves it.

So he clings to it.

It doesn’t matter how much evidence is stacked against the Candy Witch, how many things don’t add up. What matters is that she said he was fit for an apprentice, for being a warlock, and and that she mentored him.

Hansel doesn’t want to believe that the first person outside of the Hoods who’d shown him care (even if it had been fake) was a cannibalistic witch, so he doesn’t.

He can’t see why Gretel is so wound up, why she cries and yells, begging to get out of the sickly sweet meadow with the remains of the house and the still standing oven.

He can’t see why she wants to go back home, when all their father and their stepmother have shown them in last few years are neglect and mistreatment.

Why doesn’t she want to stay, at the place where they were safe? Why had she done the unspeakable to the Candy Witch, when all the old woman had done was give them food and warm beds and housing?

Of course, he was knocked out by the tea-potion, but that was his own fault for brewing it wrong. The Witch had probably just seen fit to let him keep sleeping and rest. She couldn’t be evil. Gretel was just spewing nonsense now.

So, in the sense that they were siblings who no doubt fought, Hansel yells at her to leave. To go, if she really wanted to, and go leave him here. And Gretel shouts back, tells him to honour the memory of a horrid witch if that’s what he was so determined to believe.

In the end, it’s a clash of unsaid words and pent up emotions, and Hansel doesn’t know why he’s saying them, why he’s hurting the sister he so cares for, but he says it anyway, because the emotions are just too much.

He says it, and he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t want to, but he says it and he doesn’t think.

Then it’s over, and Gretel stomps away. And Hansel runs after her, of course he does, but the trees block him.

So he turns back, and tears drip from his eyes and his skin burns with scars from the explosion, but he ignores it. He looks for the Witch’s grimoire, and keeps it, but the emotions are still too much.

And Hansel cries, and cries, and cries. He screams, and shouts, and so desperately wants his sister, wants to hold her and say sorry and clutch her tight and curl up with her just like they used to do when they were young.

He’s so inexplicably angry at himself, it hurts.

But a voice whispers in his head. It assures him, tells him it’s okay, that everything is okay and nothing is wrong. That this is nothing, that he should be strong and get up like he always does, and that nothing is wrong.

Against his better judgement, Hansel listens to it.

Everything it fine, he thinks. Everything is fine, everything is fine. He repeats it in his head like a mantra.

Something deep argues with it. Tells him to stop, to think.
But he’s sinking into the lie with each time he says it, and he sinks yet deeper still. Eventually, the something deep that argues with it fades away, then disappears.

Then, Hansel gets up. He wipes away his tears and clenches his fists and tells himself, with as much conviction as someone his age can manage, that everything is okay.

As time blows by, and the days turn into months and the months turn into years, the mantra still repeats in his head, a flimsy reassurance that keeps him going.

Hansel’s true instincts find a way through it, though.

He still searches for Gretel, from time to time, but the searches always end up fruitless and they grow more gradual and rare.

His urge to care for others leads the forest to lead lost children to him from time to time, and he is kind to each and every one of them.

But still Hansel sinks deeper, until he is waist high and eventually fully submerged. His denial is his world now, and not much shakes it.

Despite it, though, something always remains, a leftover of the worst decision he’d ever made. It takes root and widens the cracks when it can.

Hansel doesn’t think when he’s emotional. He does and says things without meaning, but it always has consequences, and sometimes those are living life in willfully blissful ignorance.

That all breaks, though, when he finally sees his sister once again, but that’s a study for another time.

♖ Letters
582 words

Sometimes, when she was little, Ichika would find letters sitting at her parent's desk. They were always in varying conditions. Some were crumpled and messy and soggy, while others were perfectly normal, blank white sheets of paper, and some others were elegant and high quality. Even so, Ichika would always read them when Harue wasn't looking. She wasn't supposed to, she knew that, but her curiosity had always burned far brighter than her brother's.

Most of the time, she didn't understand them anyway, but she could tell there was a reason her mother always avoided them like the plague, and only read them in the dead of night (Ichika knew. She'd seen it herself).
Even then, she remembered their contents so, so clearly.

The first one she'd seen had been from someone called Kori Ichi. It read:

Hey, Harue

It's been a while since we talked, huh? There's just something that… I think you should know. I know you're recovering from what happened all those years ago, and I know you're trying! You definitely are, so don't stop! But it's been years, Harue. We haven't heard hide nor hair from you in years, besides whatever the news manages to get their hands on. We're worried about you! I'm worried about you! Things haven't been going well for you, I know, but please, please, remember that I'm here! If you ever need anything, anyone to watch your twins (I have a kid of my own now! I made him out of pieces of others and he's adorable), or just someone to talk to, I'm here. Just… don't go radio silent on me again, okay?

Your best friend,
Ichi

Now, Ichika had been wondering about this letter for years. Her mother was a bit of a recluse, and the only other adult who she talked to other than the press was her uncle, and even then she rarely saw him. Nowadays, the famed Harue Mamoru only did two things: try to take care of Ichika herself and her brother Fuji, and her work. She'd never given any mention to having friends, let alone a best friend.

Of course, her mother barely gave mention to anything about her past, so it was fair to assume there was a fair bit of information she had been hiding from her and Fuji. Which, apparently, included people.
Yet there was something about this letter that drew Ichika in even more. Something that told her this was a gateway to getting to know her parent's past before she had her, and that she couldn't let it slip away or else she'd regret it forever.

So little Ichika scanned the words thoroughly, and committed them to heart. She couldn't just take it, so memorising it would have to do.
Once she was done, a feeling of right came over her. She knew she'd done the right thing, taking the right step to uncovering her parent's mysteries and mending their family's steadily breaking relationships.

And if she were to stumble upon more letters as she grew older and just so happen to read them a little, well, that was a secret for her and her only. Fuji may have his photographs of their mother's past, but the letters were hers, and were to aid her on her own quest that she'd sworn on all those years ago.

Ichika would find out what her parent was hiding, no matter what she had to do. It was for the good of their family.

♖ Log #2
598 words

Previous Logs: 1

{Click. the video log flicks on with less of a crackle than last time.

Sitting in front of the camera is Captain White, with the same tired but proud and defiant look as last time. She begins the log with a salute, as per standard MIRA protocol.}

“Crew Log #2 of Skeld-04, recording done by Captain White. Log taken exactly seven days after the first. We've started gaining considerable distance from Earth now, and it's only just barely visible from our windows. Tasks have been divvied up accordingly and all crewmates on board the ship are executing them up to standards. More details regarding our current situation here are following, just as soon as-”

{Captain White is cut off by a loud, childish giggling from below camera height. Surprise is shown clearly on her face. Someone unexpected is there.}

“O-oh, you're here already? You're not going to wait for your poor old dad? Too excited to see me, aren't you?”

{She smiles nervously, caught off guard. The giggling comes again. Two hands and the upper body of a little girl appear as she climbs into Captain White's lap.}

“Dada said I should surprise you!”
“Oh, did he? W-well, say hello to the people at MIRA! I'm sending this to them later, you know?”

{Flustered, Captain White attempts to recover her dignity. The little girl only laughs more, waving enthusiastically and making faces at the camera. For someone red in the face and with a child on their lap, the captain was doing a remarkable job at regaining her composure. She turns back to the camera.}

“Well, this our current child on board, Yellow's daughter. Five years old, temporarily assigned a MIRA name, surprisingly smart for her age. Banana, how're you enjoying it on Skeld-04?”

{Banana, now identified, smiles brightly from ear to ear.}

“Everyone is so cool! Mr. Pink has nice black things on his ears and Miss Black gives me the best food!”
“That's great, Banana. Now is it okay if you get off my lap? I'll just do this one log and I'll play with you, alright?”

{Banana pouts, but slips off anyway. Stumbling over to the door, she waves goodbye.}

“I'm going to Mr. Pink's!”
“Be careful on your way! Don't get lost,”

{The warning is lost on her as the little girl practically bolts out the door. Meanwhile, Captain White coughs, and sits up straighter. Her attitude is back to the usual.}

“As you can see, that was my goddaughter, Banana. Now, back to the log: we're nowhere near even the halfway point to the Polus research centre, but we've made decent progress, and if it all continues like this, my navigator, my pilot, and I have estimated we'll be there in just over a month's time. No signs of an Impostor on board, and hopefully there never will be.”

{Captain White pauses.}

“…As for crew relations, everyone seems to be getting along rather well. No observed animosity between anyone, and they're all adapting well to each other. They've also taken to having game nights and movie nights every few days or so. While certainly not a conventional tradition, after careful observation, it has worked well as a team-building exercise, as well as effective at diffusing tiredness and tensions. This has led me to allow them to keep on doing it, though if anything bad comes out of it I will make sure to put a stop to it right away.”

{Sighing, Captain White stands up.}

“I suppose that'll have to be all for today. Thank you.”

{Captain White salutes.

Click. The log ends.}

♖ A Day With Reed Redmond, Part 1
509 words

Reed Redmond wasn't quite sure how he got here. At first, he was just worrying about potential ventilation problems, completely discounting the idea that all the spooky happenings in his house were caused by ghosts. And now, a year later, he was here, with five ghost children ranging from age four to age thirteen, each from varying points in time.

“Dad!” cried one of them at that exact moment, flying into the living room. Her long, translucent hair, curled at the ends, floated behind her like a curtain. This was Kimmie, the second oldest of his ghost children. She'd died in the 1970's, and the bright colours of her dress reflected that. She had a tendency to tattle on her siblings and gossip, of course, but when it really came to it, the girl was deathly loyal.

“Dad, dad, dad!” she yelled again, floating around him in rapid circles. “Edith made Ricky cry!”
Reed sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Kimmie,” he said, chiding her. “Where are they?”
Kimmie skidded to a halt, pointing up. “Upstairs!” she chirped, then flew right threw the ceiling.

Climbing up the stairs, he winced when the sound of ghostly wails hit his ears. They came from a door at the far end of the corridor, which hung ajar and was letting out a lot of noise, now that he was on the same floor. Striding over, Reed was met with the sight of little Ricky, sitting in the middle of a circle of his siblings, crying his eyes out.

Ricky was the youngest ghost, and the first one that Reed had adopted. Because of his age, none of them knew much about him, apart from his name and when he'd been born, both of which had been carved into the small stone tub he'd been buried in. Born in the 1600's and bearing the name Richard, Reed had began caring for the little ghost boy the moment he'd laid eyes on him.

Out of the five of them, Ricky was also the most prone to crying.

Like he was doing now, much to the chagrin of the other kids. Sighing and smiling softly, Reed leaned down, gesturing for his other children to give them some space. Reluctantly, they floated away, save one. Paying him no mind for the moment, Reed reached his hands out to Ricky, making tracing soft circles into the four-year-old's back.
It didn't actually have any effect, considering his currently intangibility, but it seemed to soothe Ricky anyway, so he didn't stop.

“There, Ricky,” said Reed, lowering his arm and sitting down so he could get level with him. “You feeling better now, little bud?”
Ricky nodded tensely, eyeing the one other child still floating by his father's side.
Reed nodded. “That's good. If you're ready, would you mind telling me what happened?”

Ricky pointed at the kid beside him. Reed took a deep breath. If that meant what he thought it meant, then he would be in for yet another very long talk. He exhaled.
Here goes.

♖ Planet Scratch: SWC
394 words

The planet of Scratch was a big one. It was larger than most would expect it to be, filled with dazzling blues and yellows of its theme. Of course, it wasn’t as big as the other planet sites in the Metaverse - compared to them, its size was still a decent amount smaller. But it wasn’t small either, and than in and of itself was a remarkable feat.

Despite its original concept, though, the planet of Scratch still found ways to be dizzyingly varied in what content could be found on it. From its intended coding, to art, animations, roleplaying, music and even writing.

As it was, among Scratch’s country of writing lay a landmass, large and curved (not unlike a mango). This landmass had affectionately been dubbed “SWC”.

SWC was divided up into fifteen territories or states, and each was oh so different from the last. In fact, one would hardly be able to believe they were all parts of the same land.
The territories themselves also changed much, though sometimes abruptly so.

However, this was no bother to its citizens. For SWC was only filled with people three times a year - a small migration of sorts. The rest of the time, it was an empty land, only inhabited by a few who chose to stay behind. Those points in the year were also the only time new citizens could join, and the only time people could move to another territory.

For all its rules, though, SWC was a united land. Its people were all strangely bonded, and treasured every moment they had and every memory they created, for that was what they valued.

There were wars, and those were messy. Sometimes territories that were allies suddenly turned to enemies, and you weren’t quite sure who to trust. But with its strange magic, the land of SWC made sure things always turned alright in the end.

Because memories were made, silly jokes were traded, and their people had fun during all those competitions hosted during the three points in the year, and each celebration at the end was better than the last.

Because at heart, that was what made the land of SWC, well, SWC.

(Sometimes, SWC itself were multiple planets, ringing around a central star that had been made habitable to its SWC-ers. That, though, is a story for another time.)

♖ 27th of November - Main Cabin Daily
201 words

Okay, so the best thing that happened to me today was something that happened during my weekly rock climbing class. Usually, I'm told to only climb up the fifteen metre wall about four or five times, and four or five times is also usually the best I can manage. See, the thing is that I'm actually fairly new to taking these official climbing classes, and before I only climbed informally. I'm definitely not the best among the others in my club, though I'm pretty sure I'm not the worst either.

So, you can imagine my surprise when they told me to climb up the wall twice during each run. I had to up, then down, then back up again immediately. At first, the task seemed daunting. But after trying it… it actually wasn't so bad! In fact, I managed to get in about four to five goes before it started raining and we had to go home unexpectedly. Which meant that I climbed up the wall at least eight times. And to me, that's definitely a feat I can get behind! I may be extremely sore and tired now, but it was worth it and I'm glad I got the chance.

♖ SWC November 2022 Thank You Notes!

It's November 2022, and the SWC session is once again rounding to a close! At the time of writing this, it's only I think about three or so days until the session ends for me, and I'm kind of pretty definitely sad about it. I don't mind, though, because I made a ton of fun memories this session and met a ton of cool people too. So here's my thank you notes to all of you:

First off, we have the hosts and co-hosts, as well as the daily team and writing comp judges:

To the Hosts: Birdi, Robin, thank you so much for all the work you do for SWC <3 This camp would be in shambles without you and we're so grateful to have you two as our hosts. You're both so good at managing and hosting SWC and so helpful and in tune with us campers too, which I admire. Thanks!

To the Co-Hosts:

Luna, hey!! We may not be in the same cabin, but I thoroughly enjoyed seeing my cabin's dearest sibling your cabin rise through the ranks and just generally seeing you around camp! You're always very motivated, and you're a great (co)host too! I imagine adding all those words all the time must get a little tiring, but you do it so diligently and that's awesome. I also had fun popping in on the Adventure Kingdom every once in a while Your cabin just exudes good vibes. Thanks for being such a good friend and co-host! Also, thanks for the wars you sent us during cabin wars /gen

Starr, you seem like an amazing writer. I've seen you around camp quite a bit and heard of how good your writing is before and after reading some of them I have to agree! Your style is so good and your skills are impeccable. Thanks for everything you bring to SWC!

Sun, can you believe it's been over a year since I first met you all the way back in the Sci-Fi Colony in March 2021? We haven't really talked much since then, but you've still been a pretty constant presence in SWC for a while, and it's been cool seeing you go from a camper to a co-host, which I hope to do someday too. Thanks for your hard work and for bringing a sense of familiarity and nostalgia to me each session

To the Daily and Weekly Team:
Wow. How do you all manage to put together so many fun dailies and weeklies? Every single daily and weekly in this session so far has been incredible (even if I didn't get to do all of them, ahaha) thanks to you guys - especially this last one! Thank you for them!

To the Memory Book Committee and the Writing Comp Judges:
I honestly don't know how you all manage it; collecting all the stats and points and most likely to's, designing the pages/slides of the memory book and writing comp results, and reading through what I'm sure is at least a hundred entries… that sounds like a lot of work. Thanks for all the time you put into it all!

Now for the wonderful president and vice presidents of the Sci-Fi Simulation!

To Sein, the leader and president of Project SCP. Sein - the storyline you crafted for the Sci-Fi Simulation is amazing. It's intriguing, but simple, and involves the campers well but not too much in the case that they have to go offline for one reason or another. You're an admirable leader for our cabin and I'm glad to have been sorted in it. Also, your art style is very nice Thanks for leading us!

To Clo, the ultimate vice president of Project SCP. You were so helpful and easy going during cabin wars and I'll never forget that Especially considering there weren't that many people online at the time. Thank you for also just generally being nice to be around and seeming very dependable! I look forward to seeing you around camp more next session, if you're participating.

And finally to Peggy, also the ultimate vice president of Project SCP and the Sci-Fi cabin! You've been an awesome leader for both dimension stellar and the cabin as a whole ^^ I'll never forget how approachable you are and how patient you've been, adding all my words and crypto even if I kept forgetting to post my new totals. It's been a pleasure being in a cabin with you - thank you!

And now that those are done, it's time for thank you's to my fellow Sci-Fi campers and simulatees:

First, to Kiki: Meeting you at the start of camp is currently one of my favourite memories from this session. You're so nice to talk to and even though I didn't manage to talk to you much towards the end of camp, our conversations from before cement you in my mind as a very friendly camper. I hope you're having a good day and that I might see you again in March!

To Shadow: Shadow! You helped during a couple of critical cabin wars and without you we might have lost a decent amount of points <3 Your help is greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you were there because honestly I might have lost my mind if I'd had to be the only one online XD It's been great being in the same cabin as you and I wish you luck on your future expeditions and improvements writing and art (your art style is very nice, by the way)!

To Arli, who is one of the nicest people ever /gen Arli, you did so great during cabin wars as well! Seriously, you saved our cabin a couple of times. Also, your vibes in general are welcoming and make you nice to be around - how do you do it? You always seem to make every situation calmer whenever you're there. There's just something about your presence that's incredibly soothing. Anyways, thanks for being my cabinmate and for being so friendly towards me and everyone else! I like your profile aesthetic!

Floris: Floris, you and everything you bring to Sci-Fi are by far some of the most enjoyable parts of being in SWC this session /gen. Talking with you and just hanging out, writing alongside you during cabin wars, and everything else. Other than that, I really admire how you're willing to and know when to take a break from Scratch, which I personally find hard to do XD I'm really glad we got to talk MCYT, by the way, even if it was a fairly short conversation. I rarely find others who are into and willing to chat about it, haha. Thank you for everything and I hope I see you again sometime /gen

To Rose, my fellow co-conspirator and ally in SLEEPYMANGO Inc. You've been so funny to talk to! The whole sleep mangoes thing just started out fairly regular in my opinion but then you turned it into a brilliant joke and it was hilarious! I also really like your writing style and how you describe things and feelings like using subtext to your advantage Your humour is on point and your profile picture is adorable and you're so creative! Thanks for being my cabinmate, and may sleep mangoes someday rule the world!

To Wild: Wild! First things first, it's so nice being in a cabin with you again And, just as it was last time, I thoroughly enjoyed being your cabin mate, from doing cabin wars and discussing QOTDs and detailed worldbuilding with each other, to your attitude and energy that to me feels something like… slightly controlled chaos, maybe? Whatever it is, it's charming and wonderful. That conversation we had about the biology side of worldbuilding, by the way? That was so fun. I've never met anyone who makes Punnett Squares just for that before! Thanks for being so you, Wild

Now to Xul: Oh my word, Xul, you absolutely destroyed Cabin Wars. You were writing so many words towards each one and you were always ready and you were also online at every possible moment? I just know that if your computer hadn't broken down, then you'd have done even more of all of that during the second cabin wars! You also have so many crypto coins, it's insane XD Other than that, you're also so iconic. While Wild may be a controlled chaos, your vibes are completely, unrestrainedly, chaotic and fun and I love it! Thanks for all everything you did for us!

And last but not least, to all the campers in Sci-Fi who didn't get a personalised note:

Hey everyone! Think I forgot about you? Nope! There is no way I'd forget about all of you amazing people. Thank you so, so, so much for everything you did and everything that you helped with this session. Without it, there is no way November 2022 would have been as great as it ended up being! Because, you know, while I may not have been as active as I'd have liked to this time around, I definitely had one of the most fun and goofy sessions I've ever had, and it wouldn't have turned out this way without all of you!

Everyone has a role to play, and every single Sci-Fi camper in the Simulation contributed so much to both my experience, our cabin's, and no doubt others' experiences too! Thanks, everyone

Finally, before I finish this off, I'd like to say thank you to every single person in SWC. All of you, from friends to acquaintances to strangers, from campers who didn't write much to ones that wrote a ton, and from campers who were online and campers who weren't: thank you for making SWC what it is. Thank you for everything and anything that you've done, and thank you for being part of this amazing group of people who make up this amazing camp. Thank you /gen