⊛ The Final Boss ⊛ SWC Cabin Wars March 2024

Sunclaw68

(Welcome to the FINAL BOSS! On what would otherwise be a hectic but comfortable day warring among friends, Balrog-Gurtle has come to ruin the fun, rampaging through the cabins and leaving devastation in his deceptively cute wake. Will you be able to save SWC from this terrible calamity? Only one way to find out…

⊛ The Rules: Please read everything!

The final collab story must be over 15 000 words by the end of the day in UTC. Or else…
Your contribution to the story must be between 400-800 words, no more and no less.
To contribute to a story, first make a post in this forum saying “claimed!” If you are the first person to do so, great! You can start writing, then edit your post with the final story part when you're done. If you are later in the “claimed” queue, fear not — your time will come! When the previous person finishes, they will notify you, and then you can start working on your part. Once you've finished, edit your forum post to paste your writing in, notify the person who has claimed after you, and so on!
Make sure to send a message to the person who has claimed after you in the forum (on their profile or elsewhere), and let them know that they can go ahead; otherwise, the chain may stall and Gurtle will have free reign to spread destruction through SWC D:
If you realize you're unable to complete your part, edit your post with that information and notify the person in line after you. Communication with your fellow hobbits is very important if you wish to succeed in this endeavour. If you notice that someone has gone offline, and the next person doesn't know it's their part yet, feel free to notify them yourself <3
You can claim more than once throughout the day, but you must wait until at least two more parts have been claimed after your previous one. Please only claim one or two posts ahead - if there are already two posts already claimed, you'll have to wait. We want to ensure that everyone who wants to gets to contribute to the story, so be mindful of often claiming a spot to write if other people would like to but haven't had the chance yet <3
Time is of the essence: you only have 24 hours, after all! After 1 hour has passed with no update, your claim will no longer count, and it'll automatically pass onto the person below you.
RELOAD THE PAGE BEFORE YOU POST to make sure that you are keeping track of the posts and aren't missing anything. In general, it's a good idea to keep reloading the page at a constant rate, and to write your section of the story elsewhere before copy+pasting it into your forum post.
Post your wordcount and cabin at the end of your contribution, it will be tallied up at the end. Also, please send a link to your post with your word count here ( https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/studios/34872236/comments ).
REMEMBER TO BE KIND TO OTHERS AND YOURSELF. This is a fun activity and should be treated as such - everyone's contributions are equally valid, and it's totally okay if someone misses their part.

⊛ The Credits:

All of the hosts for planning and executing this surprise <3
Starr and Sun for writing the story introduction, the other flavour text, and the rules post
Starr for the amazing new main cabin thumbnail ohoho
Alba for the original idea for a Cabin Wars Boss

⊛ The Story So Far: (Use this as the start of the collab!)

One might wonder what a Balrog is. Usually, they tend to be a towering dark creature with razor-sharp horns - quick to strike, and with deadly precision.

But when the campers crowded up outside, squinting up at the sky, they saw…

… Gurtle? The sweet, mischievous little sea turtle of the SWC Main Cabin had, somehow, transformed into a monster - complete with an incredibly frightening pirate hat and a villainous cackle. He was hardly recognizable,

The tyrants sat above, on their thrones, watching the scene unfold — they had been put into a trance by Balrog-Gurtle (or perhaps they were just pretending for the sake of the plot; one couldn’t be entirely sure). One thing was clear: there was no one to help the brave hobbits of SWC now, who had gathered for a fun day of competition.

For a moment, silence settled among the crowd of campers. Could this small being truly be the source of the many strange happenings? Surely this little turtle, as dark and fiery as it was, could not be the source of so much destruction?

Then Balrog-Gurtle stepped forward, the ground quaking and the grass burning to a crisp, and the people of SWC knew.

Last edited by Sunclaw68 (March 23, 2024 01:55:54)

ChueyTheCat

437 words

Chuey knew what she had to do. There had to be a way to stop this monster, somehow! She’d always distrusted Gurtle anyway. Those beady eyes…that cute but malicious grin…No, no, she’d seen this coming, but they hadn’t listened. They hadn’t seen the absolute promise of destruction in his sweet ways. He’d eaten one too many links, and grown strong on them. Now it was time to end it all, for the sake of the campers. She paused only to set fire to the Fairy Tales cabin, then began gathering all the procrastination potatoes she could find and lobbing them at Balrog-Gurtle. It didn’t work so well. He was just eating them! His digestion was strong after devouring so many links. Growling in frustration, Chuey ran over to the hosts, shaking them. “You’ve got to help! You’ve got to!” But they were unresponsive, eyes glazed over, and her heart rose to her throat. They were truly on their own here. Swallowing, she turned to face the monster that was trashing camp, wondering what on earth she could do. Campers were everywhere, running and screaming in confusion as he roared again. Chuey fought to keep the panic down, trying to think things out logically. First things first, she had to get the campers organized. It wouldn’t do them any good to run around screaming like headless chickens. But with more noise, cause, you know, headless chickens couldn’t exactly scream. Because they had no head. And now she was stalling. Shaking herself, she beelined towards the nearest camper and grabbed their arm, pulling them to safety as Gurtle hurled a giant piece of what used to be the Main Cabin at them. “Keep safe!” Chuey shouted to everyone within hearing range, then jogged off to see if she could find any of her friends. Surely they would know what to do! After all, they were all experienced, way more than she was, and they’d know how to manage this crisis. She dove through burning rubble, showers of mangoes–stopping to shove one in her pocket–okay, maybe two–and then stopped, realizing that in this chaos, it was going to be impossible to find anyone, let alone someone she knew. All the faces were blurs as they streaked by, and by now, most people had run for cover and were cowering in their cabins. A few brave souls were gathering weapons, but not many. Chuey lifted her chin. Fine, then. She’d join the few who were ready to fight. She picked up a knife and with the last of her adrenaline-fueled energy ran over. “What can I do to help?” she panted.

to be continued….

Last edited by ChueyTheCat (March 23, 2024 00:43:45)

minergold48

Aurora trembled as they stared up at the Balrog-Gurtle trashing their beloved camp. They had never imagined that the silly turtle that would occasionally eat a link or two would have become…this… Shaking the thought of what could happen if he wasn’t stopped out of their head, they looked around at what they could use to stop Gurtle, but their mind was frazzled, the screaming and running campers distracting them, and honestly at this point they were a little traumatized by being chased by Jim Flabsz or whatever his name was, meeting Jim at the end of space-time, and now in a single session watching the academy/cabin they had come to call home being destroyed by rebels, and now Gurtle… They stood up, noticing the flying motivation mangos and procrastination potatoes around them, only being consumed by the giant pirate turtle monster. They had an idea, and picked up a mango, remembering something from their time at the academy. Silently thanking Violet, they dipped it into one of the fires caused by Gurtle’s chaos, watching it be consumed by the flames. They then took a step back, spreading their massive wings, and….was knocked over by a running camper. “SORRY!” the camper screamed at them as Aurora stumbled to their feet, the firey mango extinguished. With a sigh, they ran at another fire, beating their wings and soaring into the air as the mango was set on fire, turning towards the massive demon turtle. They staggered in the air, still getting used to their oversized insect-person-cat wings, before throwing the mango right at Gurtle, who ate it per expected. And…nothing happened. Aurora landed on the ground, accidentally knocking a few campers over as a mini semi-organized army charged right through their planned landing spot. “Sorry! Sorry,” Aurora gasped as they untangled themselves from the others. They watched them charge away, before realizing something, and facepalming. “Oh I’m an idiot,” they sighed as they remembered that Gurtle was a giant fire demon. Fire demons could probably eat firey mangos. They ran through the crowd, trying to find someone they could ask for help, but found nobody. “Well…” they mumbled, looking up at Gurtle, “those fifteen wings I paid for my Wing Boosters are not going to help against him…hmm…” Aurora’s eyes widened as they watched another mango fly by, having an idea. “DOES ANYBODY HAVE A BOW?” they called out as they ran, looking for the Cabin Wars weapons. They were a pretty good archer in video games, maybe with a decently good bow and quiver they could do something to Gurtle. Aurora’s train of thought cut off as they ran into someone, collapsing to the ground. They looked at who they had bolted into, and beamed as they recognized their brown hair, academy uniform, and mantis antenna. “Oh hi-!”

Thriller || 468 words || 905/15000

Last edited by minergold48 (March 23, 2024 02:20:12)

PoppyWriter

⇾ Balrog's Story - Pt. 3 ⚘

Poppy yelped as Aurora ran into her.
“Sorry!” Poppy cried.
That was the only word that could come out of her mouth as she ran off, gasping and panting as she ran toward the thriller cabin. Aurora followed as they approached the Thriller cabin.
“This is awful,” Aurora whispered as they ran.
Poppy couldn't have agreed more.
The thriller academy came into view, a few butterflies and dragonflies flitting around nervously.
Only a few minutes ago, they'd been in great shape. Perfectly intact academy, on top of the leaderboard, completely content.
Things have a way of going wrong quickly.
Poppy barrelled into the cabin. She quickly pulled her brown hair into a ponytail - long hair is an inconvenient thing to have when there's fire everywhere - and looked around the cabin.
Students were sprawled all over the ground, typing and writing madly. Occasionally, one would look up, through the windows, to where Balrog-Gurtle was spraying fire. Smoke rose over the camp.
There goes the critiquitaire house. There's the word war house. That's the Dystopian ruins. The Poetry valley.
All up in smoke.
Poppy handed over some of her motivation-mango rations to the students before eating a mango for herself.
She looked out the door.
Someone was screaming.
Another was weeping.
She only barely heard.
It was hard to hear anything over the sound of the roars.
The roars.
They won't end.
They'll never end.
Poppy pushed the discouraging thought away and shoved the door open.
They have to end.
The stench of burnt wood met Poppy's senses with a dizzying impact, and her knees buckled for only a moment.
Nevertheless, she walked on, through the wasteland the camp had become, until she'd entered the edges of the fray of battle. Campers were fighting madly. Some were typing, trying not to get trampled by the pounding steps of the panicked fighters. Others were slashing and firing their bows.
A scream of rage came from somewhere.
Another camper from a different cabin ran up to her. It was hard to see them through the smoke, but Poppy eventually saw that it was Nova, a friend of hers from the Myth cabin.
She was stumbling.
“Nova!” Poppy cried. “Are you alright?”
“Never better,” Nova said with a wry laugh.
Chloe and Chuey came up beside the two of them. The two of them already had scratches on their faces, signs that the battle had worsened in only the few minutes that Poppy had been gone.
“What can we do?” Chloe panted.
“Well… now might be a great time to pull out some of those detective skills, Chloe. How could this have happened?” Nova says.
"How could it have not happened?“ Chuey says. ”This is just the kind of luck we have. First, Gurtle eats the word wars link, and now this.“
Chloe hefted her sword. ”We can only fight. That's all we have."
Fear touched every action the sad little group made- every hand twitch, every foot shuffle, every weak cough.
Poppy softly touched the gash on her face- a pain borne of her first interaction with Balrog. She pulled her hand away. Blood just barely painted the tips of her fingers.
It was a minor wound. Nothing to cry over.
But it was something to seethe over.
He had been hungry.
She had been scared.
Everyone is scared.
“We do what we always do, right?” Poppy said. She didn't know where the words came from.
Maybe it was from the fear.
That's where they always come from.
“We write. We work together. We stay with one another, regardless of cabin relations or leaderboard. We take up arms. We make stories. We…” Poppy laughed at herself a little.
“We win.”

Off in the distance, someone was preparing to take up their part of the story…

⇾ 638 words ⚘
⇾ thriller cabin ⚘
⇾ 1,543 / 15,000 words total ⚘

Last edited by PoppyWriter (March 26, 2024 22:13:25)

booklover883322

Pt. 4! 559 words
Bookie hissed, glancing around at the chaos that encircled the camp. The whole place was chaotic, as was expected.
She grumbled to herself. Of course, Gurtle was going to be like this. She should’ve suspected some sort of trouble to come from the little mascot eventually.
She was inside of the Fanfiction Variance Authority, staring down at the chaos from a window. She honestly wished that she could stage a rebellion against the FVA in this hour of chaos. But… as she watched the chaos unfold, she couldn’t help but be saddened by all the destruction. The balrog was… so strong, and looked near unstoppable. She could totally just run away, plant something in the FVA and watch it go up in flames like the rest of the camp. But the more she looked at her beloved camp, the stronger her resolve became.
She clambered down the stairs of the FVA, bumping into other agents around her as they frantically tried to save this beloved agency. She’d leave that to them. Right now, her focus was on the Balrog.
The Fanfiction variance authority was filled with various weapons that were mainly used against rebellious fanfic writers. But today, they’d be used on the monstrosity that threatened everyone’s livelihoods.
She grabbed a few mango launchers, as well as enough ammo to last her a lifetime. She nommed on a motivational mango for good luck before running out into the battlefield. She made her way toward the Thriller Insect Academy.
There, she found a small collection of campers holed up in a somewhat safe space.
“Hey!” She shouted, “What are you guys doing down here?”
Chuey looked up at her, “Playing go fish! What about you?”
Bookie rolled her eyes, “Trying to /save/ the camp! Y’all want to help or not?”
Poppy glanced up at her, “Do you have a plan? I can offer some ideas.”
Bookie nodded, “I’d love some ideas. Hit me with what you’ve got.”
Poppy cleared her throat, “You’ve seen how the Balrog reacts when we throw mangoes at it, right?”
Nods came from the group.
“Well, I don’t think those will do anything. All they’ll do is feed the Balrog more, which isn’t something we want. The more is eats, the stronger it gets.”
Bookie nodded, dropping her mango launcher on the ground, “That… honestly makes sense.” She kicked the launcher, “Wish I could’ve used this though.”
Chloe tapped her chin, “Maybe you still can. If we can somehow get the Balrog to somehow stop eating things, we might be able to drive it off or something.”
“Do you think there’s anything the Balrog /won’t/ eat?” Chuey questioned. “Like, something it finds repulsive?”
Bookie shrugged, “I’m not sure. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that thing will eat anything. We should try to focus on stopping it from being /able/ to eat. Any ideas on that?”
Silence followed.
Bookie grumbled, “Okay, fine, I guess we’ll just have to wing it. If we stay here for much longer there won’t be an SWC to come back to in July*. (*sobbing*) We need to act now.”
The small group nodded. They armed themselves with what they could and went back out into the battlefield.
Bookie was scared. She couldn’t deny that. But, now that she wasn’t alone, the future of the camp she held so dear was a little less bleak.

Last edited by booklover883322 (March 23, 2024 13:31:32)

--Artsy_Girl--

unclaimed, skip me, I don't have time- I'll claim sometime later

Last edited by --Artsy_Girl-- (March 23, 2024 01:37:57)

--pxppy-aesthetics--

Claimed :DD

-lxve-bug-

claimed !!

TokoWrites

claimed

SnowdropSugar

“No!” Snowy yelled as she rushed out of the Script Theatron. The once-pristine marble walls had crumbled with the force of Pirate Gurtle’s — no, the Balrog’s — giant mangos, shot at a high speed from a mango-shooting cannon. She looked around the smoking theater in dismay, watching her many dreams of a beautiful play turn to ashes and dust right before her eyes.

Gurtle…How could all this damage, all this destruction be from him? He was just a turtle, wasn’t he? Just the kind SWC mascot. Right?

But Gurtle had turned on them, and as he did, he took away every last possibility of having a normal session of Scratch Writing Camp.

Snowy rushed back along the path to the main cabin, turning to see her sibling cabin, Dystopian Ruins, ironically, even more ruined than they were before. Every last bit of the place had been obliterated, and the few remaining pieces were aflame. So much destruction. So much despair. Everywhere that Snowy looked, she saw SWCers shouting, wondering what had happened to their friendly Gurtle.

All Snowy had ever hoped for this session was to have a good first March session, but this was turning out to be so much worse than even the nightmares she had about forgetting all her lines in front of everyone.

Even the path back to the main cabin was cracked in many places, as if Gurtle had wanted to make as much mischief as he possibly could. But this wasn’t mischief, or at least it didn’t look like it. This was revenge.

Snowy saw exactly what she had feared as she approached the Main Cabin. All the piles of words and motivation mangoes had been destroyed. The Warrior Wharf and the docks near it lay in pieces, just driftwood floating in the ocean, carried by the waves this whole time. She couldn’t believe it. How could it have turned out so horribly?

There was no hint of the place that it used to be. The Main Cabin no longer looked like the natural haven that it used to be. The scoreboards, where Script used to be in fourth, third, where they had fought to find their way up to first place, hang down limply, almost like a rag doll, or even just flimsy fabric. Wires strung from it buzzed and crackled with a slight bit of leftover electricity before the currents from it finally disappeared and the whole thing became useless. All the standings became meaningless, because now, they weren’t trying to win SWC. They were just trying to find a way to stop Gurtle and outlast his many attacks.

“What do we do?” Snowy heard one SWC leader whisper in a hushed voice to another. “He’s taken all our mangoes, all our words, and now we don’t even have a place to hide anymore. How are we supposed to keep going from here?”

There were murmurs of assent, all agreeing with the comment, but none of them actually offering any solutions. Snowy herself felt like she was at a loss for words. How could she say anything or write anything after Gurtle’s betrayal?

She remembered fondly all those times they had had together, all a part of SWC. She reminisced about those random musings about what a hungry turtle he must have been to eat so many links from the dailies, the times that she thought were all in good fun and nothing else. Maybe that whole time, the entire reason that Gurtle was eating them wasn’t because he was hungry, but rather because he wanted to make SWC miserable. It would make sense, at least, based on what she knew now. It was the only explanation. He had never betrayed them. He’d just always been out on a quest for vengeance. But for what? She didn’t know the answer.

Snowy thought long and hard about their ongoing battle with Gurtle. Right now, they shouldn’t be looking to just save themselves. They should be looking to eliminate the threat.

The realization came to her with a pang, as Snowy didn’t want to be so cruel as to hurt Gurtle in return, but as he turned the Main Cabin into more and more of a fiery wasteland, she knew that something had to be done.

But what weapons did they have? How could they defend themselves against them? Like that leader had said, Gurtle had already taken all of their mangoes, and any last hopes they might have had in their own cabins had been annihilated without any hope of being rebuilt.

Just then it hit her. The fanfiction, the one she had been working on with all those other SWCers a while ago.

“GUYS!” Snowy shouted, enthusiastic for the first time after learning of Gurtle’s betrayal of SWC. “WHAT ABOUT THE FRYING PANS?”

Word count: 800 words
Total words written: 2,902/15,000 words

Last edited by SnowdropSugar (March 23, 2024 07:11:32)

Novanuhea123

Nova looked up sharply, having heard Snowy’s shout.
She was on the South side of the Main Cabin, near Script (which Snowy was leading). The Main Cabin was up in flames, and she was gathering supplies to take back to Mythsy before the entire cabin erupted to Balrog-Gurtle’s wrath.
Nova heaved a breath, holding the items carefully and going sideways. Her small form was very useful for not being spotted by the large Gurtle. She made her way out of the cabin.
“What?” she shouted to Snowy, making sure Gurtle was too busy causing destruction to notice her. She was shivering slightly - it was a terrifying job.
“THE FRYING PANS!” she called, then a Script camper came up to her.
Nova inhaled sharply. The frying pans. How could she forget those?
Gurtle was immune to mangoes and links. They’d all found that out the hard way; he ate them and just grew stronger.
But the frying pans…
The cult’s training as frying pan warriors wouldn’t go to waste today.
She got to work, hidden in the shadows, hoping Gurtle wouldn’t rip apart the Main Cabin so much he would find her.
This was dangerous, but she was here.
With the power of SWC, the magic of words, the power of frying pans. SWC could never be defeated.
She wove her angriest words, her most determined and brave and frustrated words, into the form of a frying pan. Words were delicate, she knew, as she inched her fingers around them. But they were powerful.
A frying pan formed in her hands.
Fire exploded all around her, and she shrieked and rocked herself. Her frying pan felt natural in her hands as she grabbed it and ran, around bursts of flame and debris falling. Faster, faster, faster, speed of wind.
But as she turned around, she saw the destruction at a bigger scale. The Main Cabin, completely destroyed. The Word War building, pieces of wood all over the ground. Their cabins, barely holding themselves together. Campers and leaders, frantically running everywhere. SWC was falling apart.
She shook her head. There was no time for sulking. Her plan would either work or wouldn’t. She had to take that chance.
She made it to the headquarters of the frying pan cult, full of funny posters. Nothing about the situation was funny now. “Get your frying pans,” she said quickly. “Put in your angriest words. We need them.”
May, a member of the cult and coleader of Hi-Fi, nodded and brought out her own frying pan. “We’ll help.”
Yume, leader of Epistolary, smiled grimly. “We’re ready.”
The other members began to do the same. Wild’s frying pan was twirling between their fingers, ready.
Nova led them carefully down the path to the Main Cabin. She was stealthy, which was a good trait to have now. Reese had already been eaten by the Gurtle, and she was sure no one else wanted to be there.
The Main Cabin loomed over them, and the task looked almost impossible.
But she turned around and saw hundreds of them. Not even just the cult. She noticed Crystie beside her, a camper from Epistolary, who had just woven her own frying pan. Tilly was on her other side, determined. Surf, eyes on the Main Cabin. Hundreds of them, faces hard and ready, frying pans out in front of them, woven with powerful words.
She smiled, even in the terrible situation.
SWC was undefeatable.

574 words, total: 3476/15000

Last edited by Novanuhea123 (March 23, 2024 12:40:48)

at-least-im-trying

claimed (oh boy this is going to be GREAT for my mental health!!!!)
okay I was skipped because I was asleep

Last edited by at-least-im-trying (March 23, 2024 15:53:51)

smartypantschlo

Chloe ran a few paces back, dodging the latest attack. Chloe had already been injured a little bit, but that wasn't stopping her. She saw everyone arming themselves with Frying pans, and she frowned. At one time she had a sword, but she had dropped it dodging an attack, much to her own disappointment. She knew she needed to get a new weapon, and her normal power move, her fire mark, wasn't really going to help as the monster was literally sending fireballs down on the camp. She used her power to entigush one such flame, before making a beeline to Fairy Tale cabin. She knew she had something there. She ran to her bunk, looking underneath it. Underneath the bunk were thousands of apples, and her bow. She already had her quiver on, filled to the brim with arrows. That had happened when she had switched into uniform earlier. She grabbed her bow, making sure the string was tight, running back out to join the fight. She sent arrow after arrow towards the monster, some rickoshaying off of the shell, while others stuck like a small pin in the monster. She knew she wasn't doing much but it was all that she could do.
She then had a bold decision. She knew the other campers were armed with frying pans. But currently, they couldn't get close to the monster without getting hurt. She sighed. “My adviosiers are going to kill me if they catch wind of this…if this Bulrog-Gurtle creature doesn't first,” she said, laughing nervously to herself. She then began to sprint towards the word war cabin, leaping on the roof. “I'm sorry hosties, but this has to be done,” she muttered to herself. “HEY GURTLE!!! OVER HERE!” she shouted, shooting at Gutle, trying to distract them from the frying pan welding campers, and focus his attacks on her. Chloe then leaped out of the way as Gurtle started sending attacks towards her. “Come on Phoe,” Chloe said, now encouraging herself, “You've got this. You have to have this. Just don't die. That won't help the other campers.” she muttered, dodging another attack. Chloe noticed the other campers standing away, confused. “ATTACK!!!!” she yelled, sending another shot. She knew it was going to be a long battle for her. But she could do it, dodging and moving, staying away from all of Gurtle's attacks, to hopefully claim victory for the main cabin as a whole.

+407 words

Last edited by smartypantschlo (March 23, 2024 14:03:50)

dolphin786

Claimed! <33

Stariqe

hi folks! quick reminder:

Please only claim one or two posts ahead - if there are already two posts already claimed, you'll have to wait.<3

if you've already claimed a post, then that's fine, but next time, please wait! thank you <33 and heehee can't wait to see what y'all make

also sun will link this in the original post shortly, but please go here to register your part for the war effort!

Last edited by Stariqe (March 23, 2024 00:48:52)

embXR_THEauthZr

Sandy-Dunes

kinda standalone from the main plot, but if you're after me you can use churchill, marx, marc mangosen, smarlls, and monty!!

Meanwhile, away from everyone else, Sandy was tossing water balloons over at Gurtle. Or rather Balrog-Gurtle. Whatever exactly he was, she wasn't sure anymore.
So she kept doing that, but of course her effort was minimal, and she wasn't even sure whether Gurtle would be weakened by water anyway. After all, he used to be a sea turlte didn't he?
She sighed, and watched as everything went up in flames. At least people liked arson, right?
Anyways, she just continued lobbing her water balloons, starting to grow oblivious (or rather, numb) to the chaos and destruction happening all around, engulfing the main cabin, casting it into the depths of despair.
And then she suddenly thought of something: perhaps she could ask the icons of SWC for help! Surely they were around here somewhere.
So she set off away from the main cabin, in the opposite direction of where Gurtle was attacking. She felt quite bad for abandoning everyone in a time of need, but then she remembered that she was doing important work, getting outside help. Just like Zvonimir Cuckovic and Andreas Krobot during the Battle of Castle Itter! She chuckled to herself as she thought of the history analogy.
Speaking of history, she stumbled upon the first person who may be sympathetic. Sandy blinked. Where exactly even was she? There was a nice big forest surrounding the camp, a forest like one that any good old camp should be located in. And the historical figure in question happened to be sitting on a tree stump right in front of her.
“Sir Winston Churchill!” Sandy called out. “Or should I say S. W. C.?”
“Oh, it's you,” Churchill replied, recognition flickering across his expression. “Sandy, right?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, relieved to hear that Churchill did know who she was. She didn't exactly look like the threatening type, but she would have needed to do a lot more explaining if he didn't know her. “SWC needs your help!”
“Why exactly?” the prime minster asked.
Sandy sighed. “Well, long story short, Gurtle—he's our mascot this session—he actually turned out to be evil and right now we're all fending off his attacks.”
“And how exactly do you think I can help?” he replied, sounding rather skeptical.
“Well, you led Great Britain to victory back in the day, right?” Sandy said, flashing the V sign snazzily.
But the Prime Minster unfortunately did not look impressed. “This sounds a lot more difficult than that.”
Sandy didn't think there could be anything too much more difficult than what Churchill did, but oh well. “Alright, then, I guess I'll find someone more willing to help than you,” she said shortly, hoping that he would get persuaded by this tactic.
Churchill didn't respond, however. Sandy sighed. She was terrible at this.
“I'll help,” someone else spoke up from behind a bush.
KARL MARX emerged, holding a mango! “I've heard rumors of this being effective against this Gurtle you were speaking of,” he said, tossing the mango up and then catching it. “And I've also brought Das Kapital, if it'll be useful in any way.”
“Alright, alright, I'll see what I can do,” Churchill conceded.
“Awesome! The main cabin is over there,” Sandy said as she pointed over. “In the meantime, let's see who else-”
A horned head emerged from yet another bush.
“Smarlls!” Sandy said brightly. She wasn't all that familiar with Smarlls lore, but she did know that the ibex had been a mascot back in the day.
“And don't forget me,” Monty said. Although he was a goat instead of Bernard Law Montgomery.
“You can't fight anything with mangoes without me,” Marc Mangosen added as he emerged from a bush. Seriously, these icons needed to stop popping out of random bushes.
Sandy peered around, wondering if she would find anyone else to recruit. She couldn't think of any other SWC mascots at the moment, but she was sure other people would remember them and retrieve them from the dark woods around the camp.
“Alrighty, let's go back now,” she said brightly.

Last edited by Sandy-Dunes (March 23, 2024 13:59:19)

Scrollreader023

Claimed >

D

-CorruptedData-

Data stood in the midst of the chaos, observing the scene unfolding before it. Its curious, glowing white eyes examined every detail, never missing a thing. As a living shadow, Data truly was one of a kind. Data blended in perfectly with the darkness that had fallen upon the camp—it had scared several campers already. The poor SWC campers had no clue that Data was there—and they were terribly frightened when they found out. Perhaps Data could use this to sneak up on Balrog—it was certainly worth a try.
Data crept closer to what had become of Gurtle. Gurtle’s fiery eyes showed no mercy as he obliterated the camp; in fact, he actually seemed to be enjoying it. As Data approached Gurtle, it saw the ruins that had become SWC. All the cabins were damaged in one way or another, and none were left unscathed.
Data finally reached Gurtle. Gurtle, not knowing that Data was there, continued wreaking havoc on the camp. He thrashed his mighty limbs, demolishing everything in his path. And yet, he somehow managed keep his signature grin the whole time.
Gurtle came frighteningly close to Data, almost knocking it to the ground. Data tried its very best to sneak up on him, but it was no use. Gurtle was simply too powerful. Data stopped to think. Everyone in SWC was having trouble defeating Gurtle; but they haven’t really tried to work together yet. If everyone combined their resources and talents, they might just have a chance of defeating the almighty Gurtle.
Data climbed to the top of the main cabin. “Attention all SWC Campers!” it shouted. A few people turned to listen. Most either didn’t hear Data or was ignoring it. “ATTENTION SWC CAMPERS! THIS IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT!” Data tried again.
More people looked this time. “What could possibly be more important than defeating Balrog?!” someone shouted.
“This is about defeating Balrog! Or Gurtle, whichever one you prefer. We need to band together! And I mean really band together. Everyone has been attempting to defeat Gurtle on their own, or with a small group. And we can clearly see that those attempts have been unsuccessful. But if everyone discusses their ideas with the rest of the SWC campers, we might have a chance of defeating Gurtle!”
Everyone—or rather, almost everyone—agreed.
“Everyone, we need to have a group meeting. Regardless of what cabin you’re in, please report to the main cabin immediately!” Data shouted.
In a matter of minutes, every SWC Camper was in the main cabin. Surprisingly, all the campers fit inside without any trouble.
It was so quiet it was unnerving. No one made a sound; everyone stood in solemn silence, no one moving a muscle.
“All right,” Data said in its whispery voice. “Anyone who has an idea—no matter how irrelevant or unfinished it might be—needs to share. We are growing increasingly desperate; any idea or plan is accepted. So, who wants to go first?”
“This is boring! We don't want to do this lame meeting! Why don't we just stick with the frying pan idea?” someone shouted.
“Yeah! This is a huge waste of time!”
“The frying pan it is!” The SWC campers stormed out of the main cabin.
Data sighed. “The frying pan it is,” it muttered.

Word count: 545 Cabin: Science Fiction
I mistakingly wrote this in the wrong section XD I didn't see there were other pages too.

Last edited by -CorruptedData- (March 23, 2024 18:59:48)

--asdfghjkl

i missed it i was sleeping :'(

Last edited by --asdfghjkl (March 24, 2024 18:57:38)

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