Discuss Scratch

Wishingdeer
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Daily 6
Bringing back a classic - the flower daily! Head over to Alba's lovely project here (
https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/projects/7
41579314/) where you'll find a variety of flowers and their hidden meanings. Now, pick your favorite three, and incorporate them into a short story of 400 words for 300 points! Make sure to keep the meanings in mind… those motifs should come into play in your story as well <3 You can also earn an additional 100 points for sharing proof!

Despite already sharing this proof, I’m posting this here now that the forums are up so that I can better keep track of my writing.
Word Count: 419


Bree, against her better judgment, found herself crouched in a bunch of ferns. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be feeling this, so many shouldn’ts… but Astrid was in front of her, her golden red curls, tangled with fern leaves, pooling around her face. It was hard to think about shouldn’ts when she was there.
The ferns were one of the few places they felt they could meat safetly, and truly be themselves. They weren’t hiding, exactly, they were just…
Okay, yeah, they were hiding. But what choice did they have? If anyone saw the two girls together, if anyone found out the way they felt about each other… no. Best to keep it hidden here, concealed by the ferns. That was the way their love would have to be.
Or.. not. It seemed Astrid had other ideas.
“Bree, come on,” she was saying. “We can’t keep hiding forever. Who cares if people accept us? We’ll be okay as long as we have each other.”
“You don’t know that,” Bree countered. “What if something bad happens?”
Astrid rolled her eyes. “What could possibly happen?”
“Any number of things!”
“You worry too much. Come on.”
And so Bree found herself being lead away, having no real choice but to follow. She wanted to share Astrid’s enthusiasm, but as they passed by a rhododendron bush, all she felt was dread. This was risky. Being seen together, even if they kept there distance, was dangerous.
Despite Bree’s worrying, they were never caught. They had a few close calls, but they made it. They entered a clearing, on the edges of which grew bright, beautiful dahlia flowers. It was a lovely place, but she didn’t understand the point.
“What did you want to come out here for?”
“Because I have something to say, and I thought it deserved a more special location than the fern bushes to say it in.” Astrid cleared her throat. “Look, I know we can’t officially be together. Not here, not now. Not in a world like this. But I hope you know that I will stand by you forever, no matter what happens. My heart is eternally yours.”
She got down on a knee, holding out a ring. “This ring will have to come without a ceremony, but it holds the same promise. Will you, Bree, make me the happiest woman on earth and always be mine?”
Bree was crying now, tears pouring down her face. But she was also grinning. “I will. Oh Astrid, of course I will!”

Last edited by Wishingdeer (July 9, 2024 07:50:50)


Hi there! I’m Ash, aka Wish. She/Her.
My door is always open, so if you ever want to chat or rp, feel free to come visit!
Some things I enjoy: Reading, writing, Kotlc, bowling, birding, and did I mention Kotlc? Okay, yeah, I’m obsessed xD
If you respond to one of my forum posts and I don't see it, feel free to let me know on my profile
☮️ Peace Out ☮️
~Wishingdeer
CherryMango17
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

1. Ordinary World
- Introduction to Evan Chambers: Evan lives in a quiet village at the edge of the Dragonrealm. He feels out of place and yearns for adventure, sensing he is destined for something greater.
- Evan’s Friends: Layla, Zach, and Maya are introduced as Evan’s close friends who share his curiosity about dragons and the mystical Dragonrealm.

2. Call to Adventure
- Discovery of the Wounded Dragon: While exploring the nearby forest, Evan stumbles upon a wounded dragon cub. The dragon, named Ember, establishes an immediate empathic bond with Evan.
- Mystical Message: Ember reveals that dark forces are threatening the Dragonrealm, and only those with the rare ability to bond with dragons can save it.

3. Refusal of the Call
- Evan’s Doubts: Evan is initially hesitant, fearing he is not strong or skilled enough to take on such a monumental task. He worries about leaving his family and village behind.

4. Meeting the Mentor
- Arrival of the Dragon Master: An experienced dragon keeper from the academy, Master Drakon, arrives to guide Evan. He explains the importance of Evan’s bond with Ember and the destiny that awaits him at Dragon Keepers Academy.

5. Crossing the Threshold
- Journey to the Academy: Evan, along with Layla, Zach, and Maya, embarks on the journey to Dragon Keepers Academy. They traverse through enchanted forests and treacherous mountains, leaving their ordinary world behind.

6. Tests, Allies, and Enemies
- Training and Trials: At the academy, the friends undergo rigorous training and face various trials to prove their worth as dragon keepers. They meet other students and form alliances, while also encountering rivals and dark creatures sent to thwart their progress.
- Growing Bond with Ember: Evan’s bond with Ember deepens, revealing new powers and abilities. Together, they learn to communicate telepathically and harness elemental magic.

7. Approach to the Inmost Cave
- Discovery of the Conspiracy: The friends uncover a hidden conspiracy within the academy involving a secret society seeking to control dragon magic for nefarious purposes.
- Preparations for Confrontation: They gather information, allies, and resources to confront the hidden threat and protect the academy and the Dragonrealm.

8. Ordeal
- Battle with the Dark Forces: Evan and his friends face a climactic battle against the secret society and their dark creatures. They must overcome personal fears and doubts, relying on their bond with their dragons and each other.
- Ember’s Sacrifice: In a crucial moment, Ember sacrifices himself to save Evan and the others, severely wounding the leader of the dark forces.

9. Reward
- Victory and Revelation: The friends emerge victorious, and the conspiracy is exposed. Evan discovers hidden truths about his own lineage and his unique connection to dragons.
- Ember’s Recovery: Though gravely injured, Ember begins to heal, his bond with Evan stronger than ever.

10. The Road Back
- Return to the Academy: Evan and his friends return to the academy, hailed as heroes. They are celebrated for their bravery and skill, but they know their journey is far from over.

11. Resurrection
- Mastery of New Powers: With their newfound skills and deeper understanding of dragon magic, Evan and his friends prepare for the challenges that lie ahead. They continue their training, now with a greater sense of purpose and destiny.

12. Return with the Elixir
- Peace and Prosperity: The academy and the Dragonrealm begin to flourish once more, with the dark forces vanquished and a new era of harmony between dragons and humans on the horizon.
- Ongoing Adventures: Evan, Layla, Zach, and Maya remain vigilant, ready to protect their world from future threats, knowing that their bond with their dragons will guide them through any challenge.

616 words

Last edited by CherryMango17 (July 9, 2024 11:26:35)

booklover883322
Scratcher
500+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Link to Masterpost: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8034365
Link to this post: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8042322/
Word Count: 521/500
Date completed (UTC): 7/3/24
Time Completed (UTC): 11:41 PM
Prompt Summary: Write about a kingdom!
Points(?): 400
Listeners(?): 50

Jesse cleared her throat, rustling the papers in her hands. “T-today marks the…” She glanced at her papers in her hand, “20th year anniversary of our kingdom. May the stars in your blood shine bright today, fellow c-citizens-” She took in a breath, trying to compose herself. She fidgeted with the microphone on her face, sputtering, “I-I understand that a lot has happened in the past ten years or so, but I believe that today should be a day to celebrate our h-heritage.” Her voice slowed, and her confidence began to grow.

“As it is my duty, my privilege even, to remind you of what has come and gone in years past. As I hope you all know, the Kingdom of Stars has gone under many names. First, it was called by other people ‘The Cult Stella Started Because She Thought She Was Special’, or something to that effect. But, our amazing queen, Stella Grim, affectionately called it her ‘Club of the Cursed’.” Jesse took in a breath, glancing at her notes. “Despite the pushback from her family and ‘friends’, Stella formed a little group where all the people in her village who were ‘cursed’ could come. She was a charismatic leader, talking about change and a new start. No discrimination, no unfair rules, nothing of the sort.” Jesse checked her notes again, biting her lip when she realized she lost her place. “Queen Stella eventually left her village with her band of misfits. And it felt good. According to the queen herself, she says that, “The change was real after that moment. I was free from all those who doubted me. I was not running away, but rather running toward a brighter future.”” Jesse smiled, “And bright it was.”

“Time passed, about ten years to be exact, when the queen discovered something strange about herself, which brought a lot of toil for our people in the long run. Our amazing queen possessed a strange type of immortality, caused by her so-called curse. And people wanted it. I’m sure you are all aware of the assassination attempt on Queen Stella on the 53rd day of our tenth year. It is in every history book I’ve ever seen, and still talked about frequently today.” Jesse’s voice picked up, sounding more loud and passionate. “Someone, we are not sure who, attempted to take our queen's life that day. It was an act not prompted by anything but greed and hatred.” She swallowed, trying not to sound overly emotional. Nonetheless, her voice still broke a bit. “But, despite this horrible attempt on her life, the queen survived. Not because she fought back, not because of her guards. But because of a property her blood possessed.” Jesse held up her hands, “I know, it’s crazy to think, but it’s been proven. Because of this property, whole wars have been raged.”

Jesse sighed, “Now, let’s fast forward to one of those wars, ten years past the assassination attempt. Present day. It has-” The girl was cut off by screams. She flinched, adjusting her microphone, “Please stay c-calm everyone, just a moment.” She ran off the stage.

Link to Masterpost: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8034365
Link to this post: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8042322/
Word Count: 754/300
Date completed (UTC): 7/4/24
Time Completed (UTC): 11:47 PM
Prompt Summary: Listen to instrumental track and write an inspired piece. (Song: Hold On (instrumental) by Belle Sisoski)
Points(?): 300
Listeners(?): 50

Rui sat on the edge of her seat on the tram, tapping her fingers nervously. Her nails, painted green and black, clicked against the cold black metal beneath her. Her feet tapped in a rapid fashion as she waited for her stop. The tram lurched a bit as it came to a stop. Rui watched the people come and go, now tugging on the edges of her sleeves. Just one more stop, one more stop. She fidgeted with the ring on her finger, a silver snake coiled around a green gemstone. Sooo close…

The tram resumed its travel, rocking slightly as it traversed the city. Rui stared out of the window, observing the city below. The buildings flashed past, glowing bits of green, blue and red. The sound of the tram going full speed drowned out most other noise. Rui wasn't too fond of the sound but had gotten used to it. The tram screeched and squealed, Rui cringing slightly each time. The tram itself, fully black except for silver highlights, rushed past city hall, warping the air around it. It disappeared into a tunnel, the scarce light hiding even further away from her eyes. Small bits of silver light were the only way Rui could see at all. The tram continued to screech along the tracks, hissing and squealing as it came to a stop smack in the middle of the tunnel. Rui stood quickly, nearly falling over from her anxiety. She grabbed her backpack and nearly sprinted out of the tram. She adjusted the mask over her mouth and slugged the backpack over her shoulder as she ran.

Lyric sat on a floating bench, legs crossed delicately. She tugged at the mask that covered her face and adjusted the straps around her ears. She brushed her bangs back behind her ears and glanced around at the station. Rui said she’d be there in five or so minutes, so Lyric spent her time people-watching. There were some boys being reckless with their hover-disks, an elderly couple reading a holographic newspaper, and a group of young adults chatting to the side about last night’s riot. Lyric cringed. There were so many riots in the city, not even having more than a week between them. They always started the same way too.

Lyric’s thoughts were cut off as she spotted Rui running toward her. She looked out of breath, hair flying behind her in a tangled frenzy. Rui skidded to a halt in front of Lyric, exclaiming, “I am SO sorry! I tried getting here sooner but my mom woke up and nearly noticed that I was sneaking-” “Ru, it’s okay. You’re here now. Let’s just not waste any more time.” Rui huffed, nodding. “Okayyyy-” She adjusted the straps of her backpack, “Let’s go.” Lyric got up and reached for her hand, holding it gently as she led her to the edge of the platform. Rui sucked in a breath, in and out, before tapping the snake’s nose on her ring. The gem began glowing and she stepped off of the platform. Rui braced herself, remembering just how much she hated the first step. She landed on a small box of green light, sighing in relief. It glitched a bit, which nearly gave the girl a heart attack, causing her to yelp. Lyric laughed, “Are you /still/ scared, Ru? We’ve been practicing for months now!” “I know, I knowww- But it’s literally a floating box of light! That I can stand on!” Lyric rolled her eyes, “You’ve seen weirder.” “But still!” Lyric stepped beside her on a red box of light. “You will be alright, Ru, I promise.”

Rui didn’t get a chance to respond, feeling a large projectile slam into her chest. She lurched backward into Lyric’s ready arms. But before she could correct her stance, another projectile collided with her head, sending the two girls hurling toward the ground below.

Rui’s breath was knocked out of her as they hit another box of red light, which stopped their tumble to the ground hundreds of feet below. Lyric groaned, “Oh what in the-? How rude!” She sat up, Rui being forced to do so as well. She got out from under her, Rui’s body falling back onto the box. She saw a shadowy figure rush off, blue trails of light following behind them. Lyric’s eyes narrowed, and without any warning, Rui watched her zip away. Rui watched her go before grinning and following after her. Looks like training would be a bit different today.

Link to Masterpost: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8034365
Link to this post: https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/discuss/post/8042322/ https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/projects/1045586154/
Word Count: 593/250
Date completed (UTC): 7/7/24
Time Completed (UTC): 10:59 PM
Prompt Summary: Write a how-to guide
Points(?): 300
Listeners(?): 50

How To Survive Navigate an Ikea:
Ikea is a furniture store that many find overwhelming. But with this handy guide, you’ll never have to worry about this maze of an entity store ever again! Let’s dive into some tested steps, then some handy tips!

Step One: Enter the Store
Once you enter the store the future has been set adventure has begun! You first need to locate the entrance into the larger part of the store, usually characterized by the displays of furniture a bit off to the side of a food court of sorts.
Tip One: Take your time!
Don’t worry about how much time you’re going to spend in Ikea! The more time spent, the better! You’ll get more out of your experience (and we’ll get more out of you) if you take more time!

Step Two: Always Test What You Want To Purchase
In order to improve your experience at Ikea, you will want to test our products. This can mean laying on the beds, tapping the stoves, you name it! As long as you don’t break anything, you should use the products lightly to understand what you’re getting into before purchasing! While this may add extra time to your visit, it’s worth it! This also alerts you to what may or may not be an entity.

Step Three: Locate a Landmark
Once you’re ready to exit the IKEA, what you want to do is locate a starting point. You’re going to want to be able to recognize it should you accidentally loop yourself around in the store. This landmark may be a particularly funny-looking couch, maybe it’s a special color lamp or maybe it’s an entire room set up! You should make sure you know where this landmark is, and also what it looks like. Any differences may mean that it is not the same set up or same landmark. Once you have established this you’re going to try and make your way out slowly. This may involve only making left and then right turns in order, or this may include going straight until you simply cannot anymore. Whatever it may be, you should establish a method. Do not trust the maps provided. Also be very careful not to disturb certain pieces of furniture.
Tip Two: Entity Repellent
As you navigate your way through the IKEA, you’re going to be running into some obstacles as soon as your intent to exit is made clear. These obstacles are very easy to get rid of however, all you simply need to do is locate one of our Lingonberry concentrate bottles. Once you have acquired one of these bottles you need to acquire one of our spray bottles. Add the concentrate to the spray bottle, then spray away! The couches, pieces of furniture or items that may be coming to try and stop you from leaving the store absolutely despise the smell of lingonberry, and they will immediately run away to get away from the smell. Don’t you worry, these entities will not harm you… Necessarily… They will, however, attempt to block your path.

Step Four: Getting out
You’ve had your fun, and now it’s time to be leaving! After purchasing your items you will need to escape somehow, but the store will not particularly like this. However, you can combat this by either breaking the automatic doors or climbing out of one of our very accessible windows right by the exit! Once you have done that you are home free!

We hope that you have found this step-by-step guide helpful!

Last edited by booklover883322 (July 9, 2024 13:44:09)


surfdudewave
Scratcher
34 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

weekly : part 1 : description : 192 words
Leyi inched closer to the river’s edge. It was midmorning, the only free time she had, and she treasured it dearly. Her mother was tending to the house, while her father was off with the other loggers in the forest. Mirewood was a small camp, but better than some of the others Leyi remembered. It had work, and that was all that mattered for the family.
Leyi ran her fingers through the rushing water. It was cold, a blissful relief for such a day where the sun sweated over the land, filling the air with inescapable humidity. As Leyi watched the ripples in the water, her eyes caught on a faint shimmer. It could have been mistaken for a glimmering reflection, but on closer inspection, there was something there.
She bent closer, reaching into the cool water, and Leyi’s eyes widened as she pulled a shimmering stone from the riverbed. She unlaced her boots and waded in, sifting through the sediment on the bottom of the with her hands, glimmering stones filling the pockets of her dress. When she could hold no more, Leyi ran back to the cabin, trembling with awe.

weekly : part 1 : future description : 166 words
@oishiiocha__ https://scratch-mit-edu.ezproxy.canberra.edu.au/projects/1046118170/
The marketplaces were busier than they had ever been before, even after fifty years had passed by. The stalls were frayed and worn, and the shiny veneer of the skyscrapers had faded. The cosmopolitan block was not the only one in the city anymore; the younger generation had begun to reclaim their traditions, gravitating not towards the glow of electronic technology but instead to the stories held by their grandparents. Some of those stories had been lost with time, but others were waiting to be reclaimed.
Children molded soft dough with their hands, learning the correct way to apply filling and paste. They folded pastries and fried delicacies, wonderful aromas filling the air. It was genuine, the streets filled with tangible happiness as younger ones flew around on hover scooters and breathed in an array of desserts and street food. Adults would meander through the streets, buried in nostalgia, but would find their way to stalls that captured the scents and flavors of their long-lost childhood.

weekly : part 2 : dual timelines :

Last edited by surfdudewave (July 9, 2024 19:25:17)

icebunny11
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Name: Ava
Cabin: Sci-Fi
Content: July 9th Daily
Wordcount: 1068
Topic: Write a character outline



Workshop by Rockie

1. Ordinary World
-Miyeol is a twenty-one-year-old who works a normal, boring life with her not-normal, hyperactive cat. Her job requires her to work almost every day and anytime she has a day off, her cat Hopi wakes her up with his incessant meows anyhow.

2. Call to Adventure
-One day she finds a nymph in her house. He tells her he's been banished because he was a male and he has no idea why, but his magic cannot come back. She has to foster him until he can gain his power, and perhaps even lead him back to Arjytt, the land of the nymphs so he can gain his slowly fading memories back.

3. Refusal of the Call
-Miyeol, instead, holds up a glass vase and threatens to hit the drunkard if he doesn't get out. It takes her a faint and a show of magic to convince her he's really not human- to which she resignedly agrees with him, too tired to fight.
-Everytime Felix tries to use his magic something around him breaks and Miyeol gets a massive headache, so they decide to go to a doctor (Felix staying hidden, of course) to see if anything could be given as a pain killer.

4. Meeting the Mentor
-The doctor is actually a nymph as well- one of those who had chosenly moved with the humans to live peacefully and avoid the elf war. He masters in healing and can already sense Felix. Felix, who also trained in healing for seventeen years, finds solace in the doctor. He teaches Miyeol all about how to heal the headache, different spells for the quickly forgetful Felix, and most importantly where Arjytt lies.
-He tells them to remove the spell completely from Felix's mind they would have to venture to the elves' land and find an elixir. To do so they would need nymph's help, as only they could open the barrier between the two tribes.

5. Crossing the Threshold
-Miyeol and Felix venture into Arjytt with her best friend Nako and her best friend's brother Riki. They are almost immediately stopped by an army of nymphs with weapons which couldn't have been sharper, and bring them to Queen Yeoreum, the ruler of the nymphs.

6. Tests, Allies, and Enemies
-Queen Yeoreum was the one who had banished Felix and was surprised to see he still had some of his nymphish features and looked as obnoxious as ever. This is because she wasn't able to finish the spell in time before Felix fainted and knocked his head on the wood, breaking a connection between the Queen's spell and him. She tries to send them back but Riki and Nako who both excelled in martial arts demanded that they fight their greatest warriors. If they succeeded, they got to stay and help Felix make the elixir.
-Felix's cousin Rose (A forest nymph) who had always believed Queen Yeoreum was wrong for banishing Felix, had gathered nymphs to her side and made sure that there were only a small amount of nymphs who could fight Nako and Riki.
-Safe to say, they were annihilated by complex taekwondo skills.

7. Approach to the Inmost Cave
-Felix takes his healing comrades and some of the finest night duty guards to the elves' kingdom. Miyeol, Nako, and Riki follow nervously behind, not sure why everyone had become quiet.

8. Ordeal
-It was safe to say that the elves had tried to kill them before they even came close to their land, the amount of traps causing their stomach to lurch. When reaching the Elf sanctuary they were immediately shot down. Nako's arm and stomach were penetrated with an arrow so she was held aside by one of the healers and told the others to go on while she healed her in the forest. Riki was close to tears but he followed Miyeol and Felix. Miyeol had a gut wrenching motivation to go further. Not only was her best friend in horrible pain, but it was all because they hadn't been close enough.

9. Reward
-After managing to break into their castle they found the elixer on a big display. The elves hadn't expected anyone to break in so it was right there for them to grab. Felix could not drink it without an incantation so they had to take it back to Arjytt.

10. The Road Back
-Riki, a little to eager to get back to his sister had accidentally tripped and alerted the guards, and they had to make a run for it in which Felix got hurt in the process. He had no knowledge of how to use a healing spell and his magic was slowly fading because of the curse so Niki and Miyeol had to lug him across, slowing their progress a lot.
-Miyeol soon got stabbed in the shoulder with one of the spears from the opposing elves and Felix, overcome with blind rage because he had started to develop feelings for the human, opened the elixer and downed it, not caring about the incantations.

11. Resurrection
-Power surged through Felix as his magic miraculously returned with terrifying speed and any elf in the area was wiped out. He quickly healed himself and Miyeol, their speed much faster now that the three of them were healthy. Felix also added a small speed spell as they rushed out of the back of the castle. They saw Nako standing nervously, also healed by his comrade. They quickly escaped through the path. Miyeol had a new found gratitude for him, because he had risked not getting his powers back to save her.

12. Return with the Elixir
-After returning, the nypmhs were overcome with joy. Ever since the elf war the nymphs had wanted to get revenge on the people who had wiped out their entire civilization. They were more than happy to welcome Felix back even though he was a male, against the law of nature.
-Miyeol looked at Felix. She had enjoyed her time with him and felt a bit dejected that he was leaving. However, he refused. Though his previous goal was to come back, he decided he would rather stay with Miyeol than in Arjytt.
-So the four of them went back to their normal apartment, the only difference being the fact that one of them had magic and all of them had a newfound trust in each other.

Go back

Last edited by icebunny11 (July 10, 2024 17:33:19)


You like because
You love despite
euphoriafall
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

weekly #1

part i

my part
Harsh fluorescent light illuminated the concrete tunnel which stretched from above ground to deep below it, where the lowest metro stations were located. Escalators hummed as they moved, but nobody was there to use them. There were only bright advertisements flashing on the concrete walls, and cold gusts of air circulated by shining metal vents. Occasionally the low rumble of an incoming train could be heard emanating from the lowest depths of the station, but apart from that, the station was silent, punctuated only by passengers – few and far between, and almost never together.
Above the deserted stations, rain pattered weakly on the asphalt roads slick with water. Here, it was still as empty as it had been below ground. Tall buildings enclosed the road on both sides, their neon signage and canopies jutting out of their sides. Their tinted glass doors were closed, the air humid and uncomfortably warm.

continuation of Imacreamoo's part
Ten years later…
The streets are deserted. Water-damaged boards and bent pieces of metal litter the cracked asphalt roads. The buildings on both sides are caked in a thin layer of mud and moss from years of disuse, and the strong wind howls through broken window panes. There is barely any sign of human life amidst the destruction.
In the walled gardens of one of the crumbling buildings, a figure stumbles. His hand comes up to his shoulder, clutching the wound in pain. The wound which hadn’t healed for ten years. He lurches through a brick archway overgrown with vines, past a metal gate which has fallen off its hinges and now lies in the tall grass, and into a small garden, obviously well-kept at one point, but now in a state of disrepair. He comes to a stop beside a small grave, the handmade headstone in only a slightly better state than the buildings around it.
The figure doesn’t know why exactly he finds himself here, just that he feels a strong urge to return. He doesn’t recognise the name written on the headstone: In memory of Cecelia.
part ii

1864, England
Frances twiddles the cold metal of her pen mindlessly, squinting in the dim light of the dusty attic room. She is resting against the wall, a heavy tome laid open on an empty page atop her knees, In this book is the wisdom of over two centuries worth of Ravenwood witches, entrusted to her by her late mother, a thirteenth birthday gift many years ago. She is sure to be gentle as she starts to write it had been her mother also who had taught her to read and write) – after over two hundred and fifty years, the pages are delicate, and there are pasted in flowers, leaves, and parts from other books. The pages are thin as onion skin, and almost translucent. The writing is spidery, written in a thin, brown ink. Frances’ first entry into the Ravenwood spellbook is an alternative method of curing the common cold – unremarkable, and unimportant, but it fills Frances with pride to know that her words will be added to those who came before her. Her pen glides smoothly across the paper as she details the instructions, and it is then when she feels truly like a Ravenwood witch, part of a lineage of females forced to keep their gifts secret. Lonely, but forever with friends in the Ravenwood spellbook.

2024, England
Amani heaves yet another box of who-knows-what down the rickety attic ladder, placing it with a dusty thump onto the landing. Clearing out her grandma’s attic isn’t an easy job – all these boxes of books and trinkets and furniture – it is tiring work.
She peels back the outer flaps of the cardboard to reveal the motley collection housed within – crochet lampshades, dried flower ornaments, a faded blue baby blanket.
Amani’s eyes glide over the contents half-heartedly – at this point she knows that most of the items in the boxes have no obvious significance to her, at least. But her eye catches on a thick, leather-bound journal. To say it was well-used would be an understatement. It is holding itself together with a combination of twine, glue, and sheer willpower, and Amani is tempted to just throw it into the bin altogether. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she picks the book up gingerly, opening it up onto a random page: Uses of Tansy, written in a looping hand. She flicks to the next page, written in a different hand, and soon she is engrossed in the journal, task forgotten, learning of this part of her family which she had never had any idea about.
part iii

revising for a test - slower paced
I grumbled a sigh of annoyance as I sat down at my desk, putting down my mug of tea, thinking of the day ahead. I had important exams coming up, and with exams came revision, and with revision came memorisation, which was how I found myself with an Anki deck of hundreds of flash cards and only days to memorise it all. I stretched my arms and legs before starting to attempt to make a dent in the enormous (figurative) pile of cards, and it wasn’t just that – I had practice questions to complete and heaps of homework to finish. Even after a few minutes of flash card drills, my mind was already starting to wander. The weekend would be a long one, it seemed. The sun streaming in through the window was almost taunting me – oh, how I longed to be able to frolick in the sunshine for the entire day.

taking a test - faster paced
My hands shook and my breath came in shaky bursts as I opened the test paper with sweaty palms. I didn’t feel prepared in the slightest, despite the copious amounts of revision I had done. And I had slept well the night before, just as I was supposed to. My eyes glided over the first question. Okay. I knew this. This is going to be fine, I told myself. Have some self-confidence.” My pencil lightly circled the answer. Next question. Easy. Next question. Easy. Next question. As soon as I read the question I felt myself fill up with a sense of dread. I hadn’t learnt this! What was I supposed to do? Guess? Try to deduce the correct answer? It wasn’t even multiple choice, so I couldn’t randomly guess and have a not-so-bad chance at getting it correct! I sighed, but it was mainly with annoyance at myself. Time to work it out the long way.
part iv

passage of time & dual timelines
When Amelia grew up, she lived in a small bungalow with her parents and siblings, in the middle of a small town. Her days were characterised by school, and playing out in the sunshine with her siblings and cousins. It was unusual for her parents to see her in the house between the start of school and dinnertime.
She loved most to ride her bicycle and play football. Especially during the weekends and holidays, she would often go on bike rides with her cousins, across windswept plains and riding down country lanes, passing by farmers in their fields and people in deckchairs in their carefully manicured gardens, reading the daily news. They would ride out until lunch, stopping for a break of cheese and pickle sandwiches and crisps, looking out at the cerulean sea visible just over the cliffside and down the coast. Then, they would ride back, laughing and racing each other until the time came to say goodbye and cycle home, put their bikes back into the shed, and arrive home just in time for some homework, and dinner.
When playing football with her loud family, they would often attract the attention of neighbours, who loved to join in with their games out on the local green. Amelia always thought that she and her cousins were better than their neighbours, to their mock disbelief.
And the parties. Oh, how she loved the celebrations out on the green. People in the area would gather for New Years’, hold an Easter egg hunt, and set off a firework display for Bonfire Night. Amelia’s favourite was definitely the Easter egg hunt – chocolate!

When Amelia moved back, she lived in a semi-detached house with painted walls a shade of grey, in the middle of an industrialised town. Her days were characterised by telling her children to do their homework and making sure they weren’t up to anything in school.
She loved most to bake. Her creations were perhaps not always edible, but she poured her heart and soul into each madeleine and each Victoria sponge which entered her oven. Her children weren’t always big fans of what she made, usually asking her to add more sugar, but she enjoyed it, and that was something, wasn’t it?
Her children were avid football players, running into their garden every day after school to practise against one another. They had goals set up, and despite there only being two of them, they had lots of fun and often invited friends over to play. Whenever they made too much of a fuss arguing about the score or kicked the ball over the fence by accident though, their neighbours would pull faces and roll their eyes before grudgingly getting up to pass their ball back, so Amelia tried (without result) to convince her children to not argue so.
She still loved the parties though, without a doubt. Many of her former neighbours still lived in the exact same houses they had been in a dozen years ago, and welcomed her back with a beaming smile and an invite to tea and biscuits. Her favourite event had to be the fireworks – there was something special about watching the light show, and the expression of wonder which danced on the children’s faces.



“now we are one / in everlasting peace”
– radiohead










100th post
ChueyTheCat
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Tick, Tock | 2169 words

part one, section one {} 190 words
The rustic village was composed chiefly of wood, stone, and ivy; the wood and stone made up most of the buildings, and the ivy the decorations, although many a farmer cursed in the spring as he struggled to tear the persistent vines down, and they might be more accurately labeled pests. Pests or no, they gave the village a charming air, and many a traveler had stopped to drink the scene in, especially if it was near sunset and their feet were sore from walking the winding paths.
Afternoon sunlight slanted down, giving everything a golden hue, and tinting even the dust with magic–making it not something to be despised and swept away, but a glittering wonder. Young children laughed and tried to catch the sparking motes, before they were shooed out from underfoot. Most of the clothes worn were homespun and homely, in shades of gray and brown, but sturdy and well-worn enough to have conformed to the wearer entirely. In the summer, with the bees humming, and the meadow waving, and the brook rippling, the place seemed enchanted, a peaceful, golden town wreathed with ivy and green things.

part one, section two {} 200 words
The castle had never been rebuilt, and the flowers had never grown back. No birds sang, no wild animals came near, and the surrounding area was strewn with ash and dust that the hollow winds blew in the face of any unlucky traveler that happened to pass that way. The superstitious said that the old flames still smoldered on moonless nights, and worst of all, it had not rained since that fateful day. The land was scorched and dry, and only the most stubborn still clung to their home, refusing to move on to more fruitful places.
Aoife had run. Run away from the ruins, run from the wails of her people, run from the memories.
But she couldn't run for forever. The memories, despite her best efforts, haunted her. She had not cried since the fire. She did not know if she would ever cry again.
All through that summer, as it had through the long summers before it, the sky remained hot and blue and distant, without the slightest glimpse of a cloud. More people gave up, and moved on. More things died.
More despair crept over hearts.
The rain did not fall.
Neither did the princess's tears.

part three {} 865 words and boy believe me when I say it could been longer sobbing
The caves were empty, cold and deep, lit only by the yellow glow of the lantern swinging from the man’s hand.
“Bound to be here somewhere…” he muttered, peering into the gloom. Under his thick woolen vest, his heart beat with fear, but his desire was stronger. He was finally getting the one thing he’d always longed for and never had.
Immortality.


The Bright drummed her fingers on the arms of her couch, her simple white dress falling in graceful lines about her figure.
“An invasion on the western border?” she affirmed, tipping a golden goblet to her lips.
The man nodded. “Aye. Something’s been disturbed in one o’ the caves down there. Dunno what, but it’s making a powerful nuisance of itself. Stealin’ sheep, an’ the like.”
Her slender brows furrowed. “The caves. Not a dragon, you’re sure?”
He shook his head. “Dragons is nasty business, but I know the signs. Seen no fire or claw marks, but I seen an awful lot of sheep gone missin’.”
“Well,” the Bright said thoughtfully. “I will think on this.”
The man bowed and thanked her for her time, and then was escorted out.
The Bright sank into thought. There were old things in that cave, things she would rather have sleeping, not awake and stealing sheep.
Things, she thought ruefully, he had probably disturbed…

He knelt by the brim of the cursed pool and stared into its faintly glowing waters. He’d chased legends and moonbeams to find this place, toiled and bled under the sun to gain his heart’s desire. He cupped the water and drank, and it felt like a living spark as it entered his body and settled there, like a live coal burning him from the inside out. He gasped as though coming up from underwater, and screamed, for every breath stabbed him like a hot knife between the ribs.
He had not known immortality would hurt this much.


Night settled on the Bright’s city. Raising herself from her couch, she stood and looked out from the tall windows that made up most of the room’s walls, watching as lights flickered on in homes below. This was her responsibility. Those were her people. If she did not do something about the things stirring in the caves, they would be in peril. She had shrunk away from this duty before, knowing the pain it would bring her, but the time had come for action. She had waited long enough.
Her hand crept to her heart.
It was not like she would die.
Or even could die.

He learned, in the years to come, that the legends and fables had left out an important detail, and that was the toll immortality took on the body. He had aged much faster than any ordinary human should, but it was not until he began aging beyond what any ordinary human should be able to that the full gravity of his curse–for curse it was, and curse he now knew it to be–struck him. For though the flesh could wither and rot off his bones, and his eyes could fall out and be replaced with cold blue flames from the Spark below, death would not, could not come.
That did not stop him from feeling pain.
That did not stop the screams in the night when his flesh was raw.
That did not even stop his horror in the daylight when his flesh was gone.


The morning dawned fair and clear, and the Bright was waiting, setting off as its first rays kissed the dew-wet grass. It was time to make things right.

The sun burned his bones and what was left of the rest of him, so he took to hiding in deep, dark places, emerging only sometimes to feel the cold chill of moonlight and starlight. He did not know what would happen when even his bones crumbled. Perhaps he would finally pass into oblivion. Perhaps his dust would be cursed to shamble about in mindless living death for all eternity.
But maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, some other unfortunate fool would stumble across his path and take the curse, and let him rest.


People did not know why the Bright threw herself so recklessly into danger. They applauded her heroism, but there was nothing heroic about it. She simply knew she could not be lastingly harmed.
Her hand hovered over where the Spark rested now. It should have destroyed her from the inside out, but it wasn’t the first…treasure of its kind she’d ingested. It turned out that if you combined enough curses, they managed to balance each other out well enough.
If the once-human who had given her the Spark had known that, maybe he would have been here in her place, cleaning up the messes he’d made.
It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Deep inside, she knew she couldn’t keep this up forever. Her death would not be a glorious one in the midst of battle, but a horrific, pain-filled one.
But not today. Not while her will was firm enough to keep the forces squirming inside bent to her desires.
Today, she rose to battle, deathless and shining in the sun.

part four {} 326 words
You stare at the ceiling, snugged deep in your covers. Your blanket is as soft as a cloud, your pillow even softer. The house is quiet and still, so quiet that you can hear yourself breathing, in and out, in and out. The darkness is like velvet, thick and cool, but not heavy enough to be oppressive. You feel more comfortable than you ever remember feeling.
And yet, you don’t feel the least bit sleepy.
You blink once, and then twice. Perhaps it would help to count sheep. In your mind, you envision fluffy balls waddling around on small black hooves, walking across whatever sheep walk across. It’s all very well until your mind starts inserting alligators here and there, ready to gobble the sheep up as soon as they stray close enough.
Oh, very well. If your mind won’t let you catch that elusive, much-desired rest, maybe you’ll get up and do that assignment for school that’s been crouching ominously in a corner for the past few days.
But your limbs are so heavy…and…and…
Before you know it, you’re out cold.
You wake with a jerk. Is it morning? Where are you? Are you dying?
No. You must have fallen from the bed, and entangled yourself in sheets. You quickly disentangle yourself, glance at the clock, and hurriedly throw clothes on. You race down the stairs, but there’s no time for breakfast. You’ve got to get to the bus stop. You arrive, panting, and hurl yourself on the bus, stomach growling. It’s not till then that you remember that you forgot to brush your hair. Or your teeth.
Getting out of the bus, you almost trip on your shoelace and sprawl on the pavement. Hopping on one foot in a desperate attempt to regain your balance, you somehow manage to crash into the school building and into your first class. The bell rings as you slide into your seat.
Time for another day to begin.

part five {} 588 words
The man clutched the jewel tightly in his fist as he ran, casting nervous glances behind him.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Any moment, they would be coming.
Any moment, they would take it from him.
Any moment, he could die.
His breath came in ragged gasps, and he both loved and hated the sight of the thing in his hand. He loved the way it sparkled, the promise of riches it carried in its lush depths of color.
He hated what it had made him do.
Oh, sea and sky, if he had hurt her…
She’d trusted him, and what had he done?
He had to get rid of it. Throw it away. He had to lie, lie, lie, because he would rather stain his lips with a thousand falsehoods than cause one drop of blood to fall from her hand, one tear from her eye.

The woman faced her sister warily.
“I don’t know why you’re acting so strange,” her sister pleaded. “Ever since that one day…You’ve never been the same. So suspicious. So, I don’t know, so jealous of something.”
“You can’t have it!” the woman screamed. “You can’t, I’ll kill you if you take it.”
Her sister backed away, clearly convinced the other was crazy.
“Ree…Ree, I’m not taking anything from you…”
“Liar,” the woman sobbed, brandishing the kitchen knife she clutched.
Her sister paled and froze. “Ree, what–No–”
“You can’t have it.”
Next door, the neighbor pressed her lips together firmly as screams rang out. She’d been expecting this. There had always been something wrong with that Ree girl. So sly.

The man stops running, glances down an alley. He ducks past several grimy-looking inhabitants as he pushes and shoves his way towards freedom. If he can just make it to the river…
But it’s impossible to swim and keep hold of the jewel. He watches in horror as it sinks to the murky depths…but maybe it’s better this way.
It did him no good. He was apprehended the moment he left the water.
The jewel lay in the mud, unrecovered, for years, until one day a curious girl spotted it flashing in the sun and dove to discover what it was. She wiped away the mud, and lost herself in the beautiful flashing. When she first spotted it, she’d intended to sell it, but now she knew she could never sell this thing. It was hers, hers to keep. Forever.

The woman stood with the jewel cradled in her hands. She hated it and loved it–it was the reason her heart beats, it was the reason her sleep was filled with nightmares. It was the reason her knife was bloodstained and the neighbors called her crazy. It was the reason she found the will to live, and the reason she would rather die. She had held it for far longer than the man who dropped it in the river, and it possessed her body and soul. She would not give it up if she were dying, but every day it was a struggle not to return it to where she found it.
“It is mine,” she whispered. “Mine. I found it.” There had been no one else to lay claim. She guarded it like a dragon, always fearing in her soul that someone would come and take it away after all.
So the woman rocked and sobbed, and the man’s body wasted away under the ground for his crime, and all for a bit of rock that glimmered in the sun.
Humanity is madness.

Natt519
Scratcher
41 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

This is my entire Weekly #1!
(Sci-fi, in total, 2645 words! +2000 points)

PT 1. words: 341

my start: The crisp autumn breeze blew through the forest, rustling any leaves still left on the trees as it went. The ground was covered in the leaves that had fallen, and they crunched noisily beneath Lily’s feet. She strolled along the bank with her sketchbook in hand until she came to a small clearing. It was quiet at first, but if you listened, then it was almost as if you could hear the whole forest. Birds chirped in the trees, and squirrels dug around in the fallen leaves, searching for acorns. The rushing water made the stream sound almost alive, too. Lily sat down near the trunk of the tallest tree in the clearing and opened her sketchbook. She gazed at the sunlight slicing through the tree branches for a moment before beginning to draw. Her pencil moved swiftly across the page as she sketched the landscape, drawing every detail to capture the beauty of the scene.

my end: 10 years later, the beach had changed, but not for the better. Plastic bags and water bottles littered the shore. The waves lapped against piles of garbage. The cries of the seagulls that had once roamed the beach had disappeared, leaving a deafening silence that even the waves couldn’t break. Margot hadn’t been to the beach for years; if she had, she would have disapproved immensely of the state that the beach had come to. The beach still called to her, though, almost as if it was pleading for her help. Even though she had ignored it for years, she finally gave in, packing gloves and trash bags in the car before beginning the drive.
Despite the pollution that had overtaken the beach, Margot still couldn’t help but notice the small amount of beauty that remained. The sun still painted the sky brilliant reds and oranges, though now it cast the light over floating garbage that drifted to shore. She waited for a moment just as she had done all those years ago, then grabbed her bags and gloves and trekked down to the beach.

PT. 2 (415 words)
Reva brushed her hands along the seam in the wall. It was a door; she was sure about that, but there was no handle or keyhole—nothing to open it. There was a chip in the white paint, she noticed, and something silver underneath. Metal, perhaps, maybe a hidden keyhole? Using her nails, she picked at the chip, revealing a metal square with an indent in the middle. It looks like the shape of a fingerprint, she thought, but there’s no print. Reva glanced around, checking that she was alone. Her parents had gone out for the evening, and she would’ve heard the floorboards creaking if they had come home, but it didn’t hurt to check. She pressed her thumb on the metal square, and it seemed to melt slightly beneath her finger until the metal had changed to fit her fingerprint perfectly. It wasn’t hot, like she would’ve expected melted metal to be, nor was it painful—just strange. She gasped, pulling her hand away. There seemed to be a slight shimmer, almost, but she couldn’t see it if she wasn’t squinting. Then there was a sudden sound. Reva jumped and looked up at the door.

It was open.

———————

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean… it could be dangerous. What if someone who wasn’t supposed to opens it?”

“It will only open if they have magic in their blood,” Lynn said as she gingerly picked up the metal square and placed it in the door. There was a slight hiss as it shaped itself to perfectly fit the carving. Her apprentice still clutched the book, looking unsure.

“The book, Sai.”

Sai shifted on his feet but handed the book to Lynn. She placed her hand on the cover, and a gold shimmer spread from her hand until it covered the entire book. “This will protect it from the Lockhounds. They shouldn’t be able to get inside, but should they manage it, they won’t be able to consume the magic.” Her voice was steady, but really, she was afraid. She and Sai were the last of the Cambrens, the last of the magic users. What if nobody ever found this room? What if the secrets of the Cambrens were lost forever?

No. They, whoever they are, will come. They will find it. All is not lost.

Lynn put the book in the box and closed the lid.

“Come, Sai. We must leave before we are discovered.”

PT 3. words: 1,140

PROMPT 1. Underground garden (fast-paced)

My footsteps echoed across the concrete floor.

Step. Step. Step.

My breath was still coming in short puffs from running. I kept glancing behind me. The shadows weren’t there. I was safe. For now. The fluorescent bulbs in the basement ceiling flickered for a moment. Then, everything went dark.

I stumbled around, bumping into everything. Then there was a hiss. My mouth shut instantly. I froze in place. I wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move. I held my breath.

“We know you’re there, Sssssssilvi Brookssssss. Why not jussssst ssssurender to the queen? Jusssssst give back what you sssssssstole? She’ll be kind to you. Perhapsssssss you can be her chef,” the shadows hissed. It wasn’t me! This is a mistake! I wanted to yell. My mouth wouldn’t make the words, though. I managed to take a step back. Just ask my hand grabbed at the wall, a door opened behind me and I fell through.

I heard the door shut again behind me as I tumbled down a ramp. It felt like an eternity but was really only a few seconds. I stood and opened my eyes.

Wow. Just… WOW.

I was still underground, but the room was filled with soft, earthy light. A woman was tending to the roses nearby. “Hello, dear. Welcome to my garden. You’ll be safe here, but in return, I need some help with my flowers. I’m Sage, by the way.”

PROMPT 2: School (slow paced)

I sat at my desk in the study room. Sage was teaching me about the “flower language”- apparently, people used to use flowers to send messages. I tried to focus, but, like always, my mind began to wander. I wanted to actually go outside, to leave this place. It was everything I needed, yes. But I had been cooped up in the house for months. The queen wasn’t even looking for me anymore- I was no longer suspected of stealing the fusestone (aka a magic stone). Every time I brought it up, though, Sage seemed to dodge the question. I decided to try it again this time.

“Why can’t I go outside?”

She looked a bit surprised for a moment, like she didn’t think she heard me right.

“What, dear?”

“I said, why can’t I leave this place? The queen isn’t looking for me. I’d be free to go. Every time I ask, you don’t answer, or you think of some absurd excuse as to why I just have to stay.”

“Well- dear, you know it’s dangerous above, and-“

“I want to leave. And I will leave whether you let me or not.”

Sage sighed, looking worried, and for a moment, I almost reconsidered. No. I’m done playing whatever game this is. Don’t get second thoughts now. I stood, packed up my supplies into my bag, and left the room.

————
Okay, so, maybe I wasn’t the best at planning.

I only had my school bag with me, so I could only pack what would fit in there. Clothes were definitely a must-have, and a few books and pencils. What else? I mentally chastised myself- there was no time for forgetfulness now. I poured all my money into a small pouch I had and added that to my pack as well. I would leave tomorrow at dawn, I had decided.

PROMPT 3: Old cottage (fast-paced)

It was amazing to be outside again. The air, the sounds, everything. But I had one place I had to go first.

The cottage was deep in the woods. Most people wouldn’t go that far in, but I would, no problem. This place used to be my hideout. One of my friends, Calypso, used to go there with me. Maybe… no. I can’t get my hopes up yet, I thought. Still, if there was anywhere where she would be, it would be there. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

She was there. Calypso was there! Something felt… off about her, but I didn’t pay attention. It had been months since we’d seen each other. Maybe something happened that I didn’t know about.

“Silvi. Hello. I was wondering when you’d come back.” She dragged out the S in my name slightly- hardly noticeable unless you knew her. I did. And I knew something was up, but it was best to play along for now..

“Calypso! It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. What’s been happening in Hasmore? I’ve been cleared of my charged, right?”

“For ssssssome, you have. But not for othersssssss.” As she said that, she… transformed. Her body morphed into a inky black shape with gleaming silver eyes. A shadow. I bolted out the door. Adrenaline rushed through my legs, propelling me faster. Water. Running water. They don’t like that. The stream! The shadow leaped through the door, running on all fours. My feet pounded against the dirt. The stream came into view. I jumped in. Water splashed the shadow. It hissed, melting it away where it touched it. “Where’s Calypso? What have you done to her!?” I hated my voice for shaking. Shadows used fear to their advantage, to twist someone’s thoughts. “Oh, she’sssss quite all right, Brookssssssss. Her cell is quite comfortable. She-“ I didn’t even let the shadow finish before I drenched it in water and watched it melt away.

PROMPT 4: Town (slow-paced)

I hadn’t gone back to the cottage since that day a few days ago with the shadow. I had gone to Calypso’s house after that, and she had been there, safe and sound. I knew that one was really her- the shadow had just been playing with my mind, doing what they do best. Now, I had my own apartment, but that also meant I had to buy my own things. So, today, I had to go to the market.

It’s hard to describe to someone who’s never been before. It’s kind of like an explosion of everything- color, scents, voices. Some people hate it, but I love it almost more than anything. It’s amazing. There’s people selling everything from food to rugs. I, however, made a beeline for Maria’s stand.

“Silvi, welcome, welcome! I had been wondering when you would visit me again! It’s been so long.”

“Sorry, Maria. I’ve been a bit busy,” I said, grinning. We chatted for a bit, and I picked up some fruit and bread. It was getting close to lunch, so I headed home. There was a note from Calypso on the front step. “Want to come over after dinner? My mom said we could make chocolate cake- with marshmallows, of course,” it read. Awesome. Mrs. Darjia has the best cake recipe. I put my food inside and began to make lunch.

PT, 4 words: 749 (in this I wrote using dual timelines and pacing!)

Pt 1A (slow paced)

“Kayla! Come on!”

Cash’s voice broke through the quiet of the forest. Cash is my little brother, and, like always, he doesn’t really understand the concept of being quiet.

“Kayla! Dinner! Come on!

“I’m coming, Cash.”

I sighed and gathered up my books. Right now, I was reading Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland. I had just gotten to the part about the tea party, but I suppose actual food is more important than fictional food. I got up and started walking back to the house.

Dinner wasn’t usually this quiet, so I knew something was up. My parents looked excited, too. What could have happened…

Oh.

“You bought the house, didn’t you?”

They had been wanting to move for a few years now. Cash and I wanted to stay. We had all our friends here, all out favorite places, everything we didn’t want to leave behind. Yet here we were, about to be plucked up and moved to Ohio.

They nodded eagerly and launched into an explanation of everything “new and exciting” that’ll be waiting for us when we get there. I didn’t pay attention to that, but I caught one part. We were leaving in a week.

—————
Pt 1B (fast paced)

Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing. Honestly, my mind is always racing, thinking of twelve different things at once. But this time I couldn’t stop thinking. I looked at the clock- 1 AM. It was summer, at least, so no school. Then, I heard a sharp sound at my window.

I looked up. There was a dark bird- a raven. It was pecking the glass. I got up and tried to shoo it away, but it wouldn’t leave. Caw. Caw. It was almost like it was telling me something. I put on my shoes and went outside.

It was hot, but not so much so that it was unpleasant. I snuck to the back, where my window was. The bird was still there. It saw me, then, and cawed softly before flying a short distance away, across a tiny creek that ran past the edge of our backyard. I ran to it, accidentally splashing one of my shoes and soaking it. Too late to go back now. It kept flying, and I kept running. I don’t know why. Part of me knew I needed to go home, but the rest felt like I needed to follow the bird- not wanted, needed. I ran after it until we came to the edge of the woods not far from my house. There was a small cluster of rocks that the bird perched on. I came over, and it hopped to a different rock. Reaching out, I touched the larger rock. Just as my fingers connected with it, the forest disappeared, and I was standing outside of a gate that read “The Aviary”.

——————
++++++++++++++
——————
Pt 2 (slow paced)

“The phoenix still won’t come near us, but the other birds are doing fine. We need more seeds, though, and it could get cold next week, so we might want to keep them inside, so that they don’t get sick, and…”

Grant sighed. Jack was always worrying about something. The Aviary was completely built now, and the birds were happy. Here, they were safe from hunters and poachers. They were fed well and had plenty of room to fly with no danger. The phoenix had just arrived three days ago, so it was likely still getting used to its new home, and Grant was sure that they had plenty of seeds to last a few more days. The cold wouldn’t bother the birds, either. The entrance had been built, too, so that someone with the right talents would be able to find it one day. Everything was going well.

Still, it was probably best that he tried to coax the phoenix into coming closer before Jack scared it off again.

He walked down the path to where the phenolic was kept. It was flying around it’s enclosure, but as soon as Grant opened the door, it squawked and landed at the top of a tree. Grant pulled out some seeds and placed them on the ground a few feet away. The phoenix came down cautiously and at them. Grant did this a few times until the bird would come right next to him. So far, that was one problem solved.

Everything was going well.

when green flag clicked
say [EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR AMERICA’S FAVORITE FIGHTING FRENCHMAN, LAFAYETTE]

i don’t know what to put as my signature and hamilton lyrics have invaded my thoughts
ForestPanther
Scratcher
500+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

my weekly 2755 words

part one - 461 words
my scene - 248 words

It's difficult to see the person across the courtyard. Their figure is blurred by misty rain, and they sit buried under a heavy jacket. But if you could have seen their face, you would have been greeted with clouded eyes of an indistinct colour, their corners downturned and their eyelids heavy.
Rain splatters against the person's tan cheeks as they stand up. They are the only one in the garden- who else would be out in this rain? But, unlike most of their peers, they often stay outside whilst everybody else is indoors. It is rare moment when there is privacy.
Living in a dormitory with five other teenagers quickly gets tiresome. There is seldom a moment for yourself- so some resort to putting themselves in uncomfortable positions in order to take a breath. Like this person.
They sigh and wipe their dark hair off their forehead. It's been plastered across their face by the rain, and- are those leaves tangled in their hair? The wind is stronger than they'd thought. The trees next morning will be barer than how they woke today.
The student sighs and begins to move towards the entrance to their House. The walls are centuries old and weathered but remain ornate and intricate. The person thought that being shipped off to one of the oldest and most prestigious boarding schools in England would open doorways for their future. Now, they were more clueless than ever as to what said future would look like.


(sorry if this isn't what you planned for these characters aha) - og scene by nyx / @xXFierroOrFalafelXx - 213 words

Twenty-six year old Ephraim strolled up the driveway towards the whitewashed walls of the house, his arms heavy with a large cardboard box. Reaching the door, he exhaled as the box was dropped on the top stair. Hands free, he opened the unlocked door.
“I'm here,” Ephraim called, wedging the door open with his foot. He heard footsteps approach and then saw Zephyr approaching, a smile on their face.
“Ephraim!” they called, reaching down to pick up the box. “Let me help you with that.”
“Thanks,” Ephraim panted. His face lit up at the sight of a shaggy, familiar creature padding up towards him.
“Hey, Gambit!” He gushed, leaning down to scruff his collar. Gambit panted, his wrinkled face scrunching up in what could only be called the dog equivalent of a smile.
Ephraim straightened up, his face a flattening out. “How's grandma?”
Zephyr swallowed, lilting under the weight of the box. “Getting worse. I don't know how long…” He cut off and dumped the box on the counter.
Ephraim walked up to them. Zephyr clenched their fists.
“Hey- can I tell you a spoiler?” Ephraim put in. Zephyr looked up hesitantly. A hint of a sad smile washed over both their faces.
“It's going to be alright. We're going to be alright.”

part 2
perspective 1 - 363 words
perspective 2 - 296 words
total - 649 words

CONTENT WARNINGS - implied abuse / mental illness / asylums / abandonment
general dark stuff
there was no no words as well but they gone now lol

How did I get here?
The thought passes through my head every day, every hour. I think it a lot. There's not much to do here but think. Shoot, even before I was stuck here, there wasn't much to do.
I guess that's how I ended up in this place- having nothing to do. I'm in a mental asylum. There's no point sugarcoating it, like the staff do. They think I'm crazy, so now I'm here, by myself, alone, lonely, and with nothing to do but think.
Maybe I am crazy. How on earth would I end up here if I was a normal kid?
Well, I might be a lunatic, but I'm not stupid. I'm not disabled or disordered or anything. I'm actually pretty smart- did well on my tests when I was in school. I have common sense, too. More than half the world apparently. More than… some people.

-

This isn't how this is meant to go.
I should be crying with joy, not fear. This is a happy moment. This is a blessing- why doesn't it feel like one?
He sits on my lap, bawling his little eyes out. We're similar in that respect. Crying a lot.
Did I just compare myself to a baby? Oh, what am I doing here? I can't do this.
The midwifes are concerned, but I can't reassure them. The young one looks the most sympathetic. She hasn't seen people like me before, people in my position. She wants to help. She can't help.
The older ones just look tired. They're sad too, or whatever, I'm sure, but they've seen this before. They've seen hundreds of people like me, and babies like mine, babies that shouldn't be here.
I have no right to him. He's an angel, he's been sent for me. But I can't help him, I can't, I can't…
I just want to give him a good life. I just want the best for him. Please, help me. Help him.

-

I'm smart enough to be self-aware, at least. Yeah, I'll admit it, I'm a terrible person. Whatever. It's not my fault. It's not my fault I never had no role model or nothing. How d'you expect a kid to be normal when they don't have anyone to look up to?
I never had a dad. I don't care if we're related by blood or whatever. He wasn't there, he wasn't my father. He's prolly the root of all this. But I never knew him.
I knew her, though. I knew her for eight years, and that's it. She left. She left and now I'm like this.
It's probably not her fault, but who else am I to blame? I gotta blame somebody. I don't know what she was thinking. I don't know.
Shoot, maybe I'm not so smart after all.

-

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. I'm so sorry.
I hope you're okay. I still love you. I know you probably hate me, but you're my angel. You're my blessing. I'm so sorry.
I had to leave or I would die. I hope one day you'll understand. Your daddy, he did stuff to me. He screwed me up. I would have died, being serious. Maybe this way I can come back when you grow up. I'll be there when I can. If you'll let me.
There's no excuse, I know that, I just-
I'm too weak for you. I knew that all along. I'm sorry.

-

There isn't anything to do here, but I don't think that's any loss. There isn't anything to do anywhere, not for someone like me. I don't have a future. At least here I get food.
I would never have a kid. Not ever.
But if I did, they would sure as heck not end up like me. I would make sure of that.
I would stick around to make sure of that.

part 3 - 931 words
based off of the game ‘Slay the Princess’ CHECK IT OUT IT IS SO GOOD HELP D:
1. Slay the Princess (fast)
2. Talk with the Princess (slow)
3. Drop your knife (slow)
4. Leave the cabin (fast)

CONTENT WARNINGS - gore / graphic descriptions of blood / violence

(the princess cannot hear the narrator/voice of the hero. she can hear long quiet/lq (your character)

NARRATOR:
Across the basement, the Princess sits straight, a haughty look apon her face. A sneer twitches around her mouth as she eyes the pristine blade that you clutch in your hand.
PRINCESS (jeeringly):
Oh, so you meant it? You really are going to try and kill me.
Ha! How foolish. I wouldn't, if I were you.
After all, I must be locked up down here for a reason. And if that knife if your only weapon, you'll have to come close enough to use it.
NARRATOR:
You grit your teeth and step forwards. A hint of surprise briefly flashes across the Princess' face, but it's gone before you can register it, replaced again with that leering grin.
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
Oh, no. We're going to die.
PRINCESS:
Still not talking? I see. (laughs)
NARRATOR:
But the smug look is quickly replaced by one of fear as you dart forwards, knife extended. You swipe at her jugular. The sound slashes through the thick air.
RRRRRIP!! The knife finds its target. Tears through skin. Blood stains its no-longer-pristine surface.
PRINCESS:
You d-dare-?!
NARRATOR:
You lunge again, crashing into her body. She screams. The air is scented with blood. The clanking of her chains is a backdrop to the carnage that you've inflicted.
VOICE OF THE HERO:
Surely, we've done it!
NARRATOR:
You step back, your chest heaving for breath. You survey the scene before you.
The princess is crumpled on the floor, her skin slashed with streaks of dark, thick red liquid. She is still.
(pause)
VOICE OF THE HERO:
…she's dead, right? Say that she's dead.
NARRATOR:
But before your eyes, her head lifts, fury in her eyes. She is no longer playful and condescending. No- in her voice is pure, unfiltered rage.
PRINCESS:
Ha! You truly thought that you could kill me. I told you, I'm locked down here for a reason. So what will you do now that you know that I can't die? I would have talked it out with you, you know. I would have looked for reason.
VOICE OF THE HERO:
W-we need to stall for time… keep her occupied! Talk!
LQ:
What exactly are you locked up for?
PRINCESS:
Things… things you don't want to know. Things that are necessary. I don't believe I should be locked up here. I stand for truth. Unlike… some voices.
But that's besides the point. You attacked me. You must die.
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
No!
PRINCESS:
I do like to play with my food, though. You're not going anywhere. I can take my time.
NARRATOR:
She stands, blood running down her limbs, staining her dress. Slowly, precisely, she steps forwards towards you. You're frozen to your spot, rigid in the face of her power. You notice her wrists- they're bare. The chain lies uselessly against the back wall of the basement. How did she slip them?
VOICE OF THE HERO:
Why didn't she slip them before?
PRINCESS:
Drop the knife.
NARRATOR:
You'd forgotten you were even still holding it. Your icy hand opens and the knife clatters uselessly to the floor… no! You need it- that blade is your implement! You need to slay the Princess! Have you forgotten that the fate of the world depends on it?
VOICE OF THE HERO:
Uh, have you forgotten that we've tried that? And that she- oh, yeah, that's right- she didn't die?
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
Right now, our survival is most important. We need to focus! To get out of here!
PRINCESS:
Oh, look at you. So cute! So scared! Oh, it's so lovely to have company…
Do talk. I want to hear your little voice.
VOICE OF THE HERO:
How do we get out of here?
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
Stall. For. Time!
LQ:
Um- we can't still talk this out, can we…?
PRINCESS:
(laughs)
Oh, no, it's far too late for that. You're going to die. Accept it.
VOICE OF THE HERO:
The door!
PRINCESS:
How shall I kill you? Hmm, what a dilemma…
VOICE OF THE HERO:
The door must still be open. If we run…
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
I don't like this idea. What is she's faster than us?
NARRATOR:
I can put in that she most definitely will be faster than you. Your only hope is to pick back up that knife and slay her!
VOICE OF THE HERO:
Shut up. This might be our only chance-
PRINCESS:
How about this?
NARRATOR:
The Princess bends down slowly and reaches for your knife. Her fingers trace its blade slowly, her eyes never leaving your face. Shoot! How have you let it come to this?
VOICE OF THE HERO:
We need to go NOW.
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
Yes!
NARRATOR:
No-
LQ:
Hey- what's that?
NARRATOR: The Princess turns for a spilt second, and you run. Heavy footfalls echo throughout the basement. Your heart pounds, blood rushing through your body. And behind it all… is laughter.
PRINCESS:
Oh, you've done yourself in, now. How comical!
VOICE OF THE HERO:
Run, run, run!
PRINCESS:
Guess I'd better finish you off now.
NARRATOR:
As you see the stairs to the door, the Princess' face suddenly is opposite yours. She giggles as the thrusts your blade into your stomach, one, twice, thrice, as you had done previously to her. You gasp.
VOICE OF THE HUNTED:
No… not again…
NARRATOR:
Before you can even process how she travelled so quickly, you fall heavily to the ground, blood pooling out your stomach. You can't think straight, hearing nothing but the Princess' maniacal laughter.
Everything goes dark, and you die.

part four - 571 words
things i used:
timeskips/passage of time
dual timelines

The sun was high in the sky when Seide and Mea opened their eyes. They were standing on hard stone, and the air was heavy with heat. Dry grasses waved in the distance, speckled with the occasional tilting acacia tree. Mea watched Seide's face break into a smile- they loved acacia wood.
“Hey, we're in a warm biome- there might me a mesa somewhere!”
Mea chuckled. Seide liked mesas too- perhaps too much. She began to walk amongst the grasses, exploring the new lands before them.
“I'll get some wood,” she called. Seide nodded and began towards a small hill.
As Mea got her first basic resources, she surveyed the landscape. They were on a piece of land bordering the sea. A river separated their island from the mainland of acacia. It was quite a steep rise from the surface of the water to the land- aside from the lack of exposed stone, it would be a cliff.
The duo met up at the highest point of their little island. Seide, a budding architect, had located two potential spots for a glorious base already. The first was a low bay, the only nearby coast that wasn't a steep mountain. The second was a portion of the bluff that had multiple levels to it with interesting composition. Eventually, they decided together to go with the staggered land- it could lead to some pretty passageways and ideas.
“Oh, Seide, look- a village!”
Mea squinted at the shapes of the low, colorful buildings in the distance. They decided that Mea would go and raid the village, and Seide would set up a camp in their designated base spot- they were eager to get building.
And so, the two began on their separate paths.
-
A decent house was important to Seide. Indeed, it was probably the thing that they cared most about when it came to survival. Mea- she was all about exploring and adventure. But Seide preferred to cultivate a gorgeous- and practical- home to settle in.
They clambered down to the river, preparing to cross, when- score!- they noticed a deposit of andesite. It would be perfect for the base of their house.
By the time that Seide had mined a decent quantity of andesite and made it up to where they would later build their base, the sun was dipping beyond the horizon. There was no sign of Mea, despite their agreement to meet up before sundown.
Sighing, the skin between their brows wrinkled, Seide bunkered into the cliffside to wait out the night.
-
When Mea reached their soon-to-be-base, the air was burning from exposure to the roasting sun. A small, stone cube was in the process of being constructed, and Seide hadn't yet noticed Mea's arrival.
“Seide!” Mea called, dumping her loot into a chest.
“Oh, you're here,” Seide responded, their relief clear on their face. They were red on the cheeks from working hard- and being under the light all day. “I was worrying.”
“So you made yourself feel better by working?” Mea teased. It was exactly what Seide would do. Laughing, Mea lightly punched Seide's arm.
Seide smiled, eyes sparkling. “One day, our lands will be glorious.”
“One day, we'll have explored the entire world!”
They locked eyes, happy to be reunited. Such a diverse duo, with such different aspirations. No matter what path they chose to take, it was certain that all that they touched would be glorious!

ello ello ello
they / them

COMMON BIZARRO FICTION W
ChueyTheCat
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

The Spark | 900 words

In a world wracked by monsters and divided into shattered factions ruled by power-greedy lords, it’s difficult to take notice of a lone girl who dresses in gray. Like so many others who wander outside the factions, she has no family ties, no friends, and trades things found in the dangerous outside world, such as monster parts and scraps of things from an earlier, happier time, with faction merchants.
She’s only remarkable in one way, really–curses seem to sniff her out and stick to her like iron to a magnet. By the age of thirteen, she has quite the collection. Most of them do no more than give her bad luck, or their effects are so slow and far in the future, that Midge isn’t worried, but it doesn’t last. By chance, she stumbles across a cavern holding an ancient being while hunting monsters, and it passes on its curse to her–immortality. The drawback? Human bodies aren’t meant to withstand the strain eternal life brings. Unless she figures out how to get rid of it or negate the effects, her body will age, wither, and crumble away to a heap of shambling undead bones in at least three years.
The clock is ticking, and her options are out.
Her only hope is with the final words of the being, who believes that if he had found the right combination of curses earlier on, before immortality consumed him, he might have been able to balance them out. Now all she has to do is take on things that would reduce most people to dust–voluntarily–and hope they don’t kill her.
She used to hunt monsters. Now she hunts curses.
Added to that, the Spark–what the being called the immortality curse–harvests the memories and thoughts of everyone it inhabits. Now a piece of the last owner is permanently installed in her head unless she gets rid of the Spark somehow, along with a few other shadowy voices.
Guided by the pieces in the Spark, she prepares her body to take on unimaginable strain so that she won’t shatter when she ingests her second major curse, and then she’s ready to set off.
All she has to do is prevent the memories in the Spark from taking over her body, herself from dying, and hunt down a bunch of legends that may or may not turn her into a monster.
Easy, right?
Sure. As long as she can prevent people from panicking when word gets out that someone is trying to find some of the most powerful and dangerous curses to exist. Suddenly, everyone thinks she’s some kind of evil overlord looking to conquer the world, and everywhere she goes, people are on high alert.
And then yada yada she goes looking for most powerful one of all which I’m too lazy to think of a name for so let’s assume it’s really, really dangerous and people are trying to stop her and the Spark is trying to possess her as are half a dozen other curses and Midge is pretty done. She tries to intake the powerful dangerous curse and can’t. She’s just not strong enough. It’s like if she tried to eat a mountain with just her teeth. Her willpower is frayed and nothing has happened. The other curses are out of control and finally she just gives up. She’s past caring whether they possess her or not.
Except oops that was the step she was missing this whole time. If she lets the curses merge and mix by letting them loose they end up balancing each other out well enough that they keep themselves in check and she doesn’t have to waste energy fighting them like she was before. The dangerous curse finally recognizes her and she manages to conquer it, sliding it in as the final binding thing to keep the curse scale from tipping. They’re now perfectly balanced and (presumably) won’t devour her alive or turn her into a dragon.
Awesome.
Now she just has to evade all the people trying to kill her to use her heart for medicinal properties. The stories going around might have gotten a little out of hand.
Oh, and the Spark has been doing strange things, too. It’s not acting like a curse. She’s not even sure it is, anymore. It’s almost like a living thing.
A living thing that lives in her head and is trying to possess her. All that way, and she hasn’t even solved her main problem. All her effort was mostly for nothing. Midge still has to kill the will of the Spark and stop it from using her body to actually fulfill the rumors and conquer the world.
She finally defeats it after learning what the curses ACTUALLY are (oops, didn’t see that coming? Spoiler alert, they’re not really curses. Or weren't meant to be, anyway) and uses that knowledge to fuel her victory.
She could return to hunting monsters and trading them, try to forget she’s not normal, but…well, her world is pretty messy. And she’s the only person with enough power to do something about it.
She could unite the factions, boot the greedy lords from their seats and help the ordinary, oppressed people live free lives. She could drive back the monsters without fearing death. She could make things right.
She could be a legend.
The end of her story is just the beginning…

violent-measures
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

weekly #1
**note that parts 2 and 4 are fanfic of the x files and ninjago respectively (wow my interests are so similar lol)

COLLABORATION


My part:
The house was as he remembered it, if a bit smaller and more dust-covered. Orion had offered to stay at a hotel in town, but his mother had shaken her head firmly, and that was that.

The sound of her crying in the room across the hall was as he remembered it, but now there was no one to comfort her. As a kid, Orion had tried. Snuggled up to her side and let her tears fall into his hair.

His old room had been converted into a guest room—the bed probably never slept in, décor nonexistent. They’d built out a bathroom attached to it. Strange, that his house had changed and shifted at all without him in it.

Orion smiled at his reflection in the shiny new mirror, and wondered if his brother’s smile would look like that. If it would reach his eyes.

Only a few more days, and he could leave all this behind. The memories as thick as the dust, as sticky as the cobwebs. He could shake them off as if they really were nothing more than dust.

His mother hadn’t cleaned in a while, and when he asked if he could help, she just looked at him like she had when he was a kid, come to the dinner table without washing his hands. Orion didn’t ask again.

They buried his father under the blazing sun of their dying world. The world was dying, dying, dying, and so was his mother, fragile and all in black despite the heat. Orion reached a tentative arm around her shoulders, and she didn’t shake him off. Tears he hadn’t thought would come fell into her thinning gray hair, but they evaporated quickly.
(285)


- - -

Crim’s part:
In winter, Orion’s house was so cold he could see his breath.

His parents were huddled together in their room, his father resting and his mother reading. He’d been told not to disturb them, so he was stuck in his room.

Orion wrapped the blanket more tightly around him, swaying back and forth on the rickety bed. His elbow seemed about to fall off from frostbite, peeking through a hole in the fabric.

The boredom was particularly bad today because he’d been forced to return all the books he’d borrowed from the library. He couldn’t risk incurring any fees on late books.

A heater droned on under his window, making the glass look like it was crying.

Orion couldn’t feel any of the heat, but his father was probably too sick to move it.

At last, giving up on the blanket, Orion stepped across the creaky hardwood towards the heater.

His breath made the window turn opaque, covering up the view of snow and fallen trees. Brushing up against the ancient heater, Orion’s elbow was warm again, but his nose and ears felt like they were in the arctic. (Though the arctic was not that much colder than Maine, the exaggeration had slipped into his mind.)

Orion tugged the blanket off the bed and curled up on the floor with it. Burrowing into the frayed cloth desperately, his back pressed against the warmth of the heater.

He finally felt warm, but the sound of his father coughing from the other room still made him shiver.


My continuation:

By Orion’s senior year of high school, it hadn’t been cold in a while. When he picked up his diploma, his father nodded at him—in acknowledgement or pride or something else, Orion couldn’t tell. Orion managed a smile and shouldered his backpack. The same one he’d used in school, repurposed to carry everything he’d need.

He walked one last time into his bedroom, running his fingers along the ridges of the dilapidated, unused heater his father had yet to remove. The window was open, and you could smell smoke in the air. It smelled like summer, now.

Orion’s bed was made, the simple sheet pulled up to the pillow. It looked ridiculously small for an 18-year-old.

He heard his father cough out on the porch, his mom pour a cup of water and walk across creaking floorboards towards the door.

With a final glance around the room, Orion stepped into the hallway. The door closed with a snick.
(158)

(+443)




DUAL TIMELINES


July, 1979

Her memories are clouded and full of half-remembered pain. She can still feel a dull ache spreading through her entire body, and her eyes are having trouble adjusting to the dark. Someone shoves her into the back of a car. She chokes on the cigarette smoke billowing in the air.

“Hey,” a small voice says from the seat beside her.

Samantha blinks, trying to push through the fog in her mind. She’s used to it by now, but her moments of lucidity are usually clearer than this. And she’s never been in a place this dark, not in years. Always been surrounded by too-bright lights.

“I’m Jeffrey,” the voice adds. “Who are you?”

Pale skin and a red jacket or shirt are all she can distinguish, everything blurry and indistinct.

“Sam,” she says, her voice sounding brittle and hoarse to her ears. She doesn’t remember the last time she’d used it. Probably sometime early on, when she still thought someone might care if she screamed.

“Sam,” he repeats. “My dad wants you to stay with us for a while.”

A jolt of reality hits her; she is suddenly afraid of the man in the front seat—or perhaps the emotion had always been there, stuffed under her blurry vision and blurry memories. She blinks and manages to focus on Jeffrey’s eyes. They’re green, and soft, and curious, and much too familiar. Samantha swallows hard and looks away. Outside, streetlamps whirl by.

By the time they arrive, Sam’s eyes have adjusted. She recognizes Jeffrey’s dad, too; something about the smoke triggers the memory, but it’s indistinct. All she knows is that it’s from Before. Samantha hates her brain, all full of cotton balls that, with her aching body, she can’t seem to push through. She remembers a few things, though, and she knows she must run when she can.

She and Jeffrey are allowed outside only under the watchful eye of his father. They make hand prints on newly poured concrete. She doesn’t like being outside much, though; prefers to hide in her room, where the Smoking Man allows her paper to write on. She writes down everything she can remember, just in case they make her forget again. She hopes that her brother will read it, someday. Perhaps if she were a better person she would think to keep the pain to herself. But she just can’t stand that thought.

A week later, after nightfall, when she can smell the Smoking Man out on the front porch, Samantha slips out the back window. It’s fitting somehow, that she would leave no trace.
(433)


February, 2000

The military base is dark but familiar. Scully had never seen this particular one, but once you’d seen one, you’d seen them all. Most of the houses are darkened, a testament to the precise schedules their inhabitants are forced to keep.

They roll up to a deserted house, small and nondescript and exactly identical to the others on the block. Piller and Mulder step out of the car, and Scully lingers for a moment before letting the February air into her skin. She watches Mulder carefully. He needs this, she knows. (Perhaps she never realized how much until this past week.)

They approach the house, the cement below their feet turned a garish brown under the yellow streetlight. Without warning, Mulder halts, his head downturned. Scully follows his gaze to two child-sized handprints in the concrete. Scrawled beneath them are the names JEFFREY and—SAMANTHA.

The icy cold has gotten under her skin and invaded her heart. She shudders a breath in time with Mulder. A pause lingers in the air, and Piller turns when he realizes they have not followed.

Mulder kneels slowly, reverently, like a man at Mass. The knees of his suit are covered in dirt, but he does not seem to notice or care. His hand covers the ghost of his sister’s.
(217)

(+650)



PACING


— candlelit dinner
— fighting over the last cookie
— chasing someone

I straightened the fork so it ran more perfectly parallel to the salad fork and sat down.

Mr. Garrow nodded and greeted me; I returned the gesture, my eyes darting to the stranger on my left. His name was Foxe, I knew, but that was about it.

« It’s good to meet you, sir. I’m James Bao. » I introduced myself

Garrow’s lips perked in a barely discernible smile. « Mr. Bao. » He inclined his head. « Daniel Garrow. »

If there hadn’t been a table between us, I would have shaken his hand. But there was. So I just nodded again, feeling an idiot.

Mr. Garrow and Mr. Foxe began to speak, and I jumped in whenever Mr. Garrow gave me the signal to (usually in the form of a glare). The rest of the time, well, I mostly studied the table, or the other customers, or the waiters darting between tables. Ours was set up in an oddly romantic fashion, two candles standing on either end of the table and wine already poured in my two companions’ glasses. But I had never been to an over-dinner meeting, so perhaps I just had misconceptions about its regularities.

The dinner was nice enough—the food anyway, a business expense, so I treated myself to a steak—but, to be honest, I was still confused by the time I was standing and shaking Mr. Foxe’s hand. Mr. Garrow didn’t look displeased by any means, but I didn’t want that to change the minute Mr. Foxe disappeared, so, grabbing my doggie bag of leftovers with an awkward, forced smile, I rushed to my car.


« Daddy Daddy Daddy! » a chorus of yells, and then pounding footsteps, sounded down the hall as I slipped off my shoes. Grinning, I looked up just in time to be almost bowled over.

« Hey, » I said, ruffling Joe’s hair and smiling down at Kya.

« What’s that? » Kya asked, pointing.

I grinned conspiratorially at them. « A cookie. »

Both their eyes went wide.

« MINE MINE MINEEE! » Joe sang at the top of his lungs, and grabbed it from my hands.

« Share with your sister! » I shouted after his retreating form. Kya let out an offended shriek and ran to follow him.

Another shriek, from neither the kitchen nor the dining room. I sighed.

« Eat in the kitchen! » I called into the house.

« JOE’S NOT SHARINGG! » Kya yelled.

Suddenly, both kids wove through the dining room and into the hall.

Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I ran after them and cornered them at the top of the stairs.

« You, » I said, pointing to Joe, « Share with your sister. » I looked downstairs. « And both of you, in the kitchen. Inside voices from here on out, all right? »

They grumbled, but their eyes were still bright from their mad dash through the house.
(+480)



FINAL
(Dual timelines converging + alternating between slow and fast pacing)

“I must admit, I’m surprised Cole let you eat this,” Zane said, taking a bite of his own piece of cake.

Jay’s eyes went as wide as they, physically, could, bugging out at Zane over the top of his giant slice of chocolate cake. “WHAT?!” Zane didn’t think his hearing sensors could properly quantify the high-pitch of Jay’s screech.

Zane blinked. “What is it?”

Jay looked furtively over his shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to eat that—I’m not supposed to be eating this—but THAT’S THE LAST PIECE!” the final phrase could hardly be called a whisper.

Zane frowned, looking down at the piece of cake, “Ah, I see.”

“Ohhh, Cole’s gonna be so mad…,” Jay whimpered, head in his hands.

A beat of silence passed; Zane could hear Kai and Cole playing Escape Dojo 5 in the adjoining room. Jay’s shoulders slumped further at a bout of Cole’s laughter.

Zane tapped his forefingers together thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should buy him another cake, to apologize,” he suggested.

“Yes, yes, that’s it—good idea, Zane!” Jay jumped to his feet. “Let’s go right now, actually, and see if we can get back before he realizes.”

“All right,” Zane agreed.

- - -

Cole wouldn’t say he’d crushed Kai—well, okay, yeah, he would. He’d crushed him.

Fresh off the triumph, Cole decided he needed a snack. He headed into the kitchen while Kai loped off wordlessly in the opposite direction, probably going to look for Nya.

Speaking of Nya—

The rest of the cake was gone. A few crumbs dusted the plate yet, and, morosely, Cole licked his finger to pick them up. Presumably Nya had eaten the piece he’d been telling her she could since she’d helped him make it (and, Cole admitted, that’s why it was good). (Cole also admitted that he’d been hoping she wouldn’t take him up on the offer.)

It wasn’t too late yet, though; he’d pop over to the grocery store and pick up a new one. Easy enough.

- - -

The public transport was not as fast as Jay would have liked, or at least he dropped numerous hints that supported this conclusion.

“Faster, Zane, c’mon!”

“Oh, I knew we should have taken our dragons….”

“Do you think Nya will be mad, too, since she helped Cole make it?”

“No, no, nononono—”

Finally, they reached the store.

“This one?” Jay asked, holding a plastic container out.

Zane peered at it. “Maybe we should get another chocolate one?”

Jay nodded. “Right, right—”

Moments later, they were at the checkout, Jay tapping his foot nervously and laughing more frequently than even his normal at the cashier’s benign statements. Zane smiled apologetically at the confused-looking man and ushered Jay towards the door.

Where his eyes landed on a head of fluffy black hair.

Jay yelped. Zane grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him down the next aisle.

The cashier gave them a weird look. Zane shrugged and tried to pass it off with another smile.

Then he focused back on Cole. Humming, the other ninja entered the aisle opposite them. If he turned around….

“Run, run, run,” Jay hissed, hopping from foot to foot.

“Technically, it doesn’t matter if he sees us now,” Zane realized. “We have the cake. It makes no difference whether he finds out now or when he gets home.”

Indeed, PIXAL agreed from inside his processor, There is an infinitesimally small chance that Cole will not realize this is a different cake.

Sometimes Zane forgot others couldn’t hear her, so it took him a moment to share— “PIXAL says there’s a very, very low chance Cole won’t notice the different cake. It is—” he took a glance at the cake— “very noticable.”

“I know, I know, I didn’t think—didn’t expect—I knew he wouldn’t…I just…,” Jay pouted, “I guess I wanted him not to notice.”

Someone cleared their throat. Zane looked up sharply, into Cole’s face.

“Who wouldn’t notice what?” the other ninja asked.

Zane opened his mouth to explain when he spotted the plastic container in Cole’s hands, and he couldn’t help breaking into a smile.

(+674)


Total word count: 2,247

Last edited by violent-measures (July 10, 2024 00:06:10)


✰ vi | s.her | christian | co-leading dystopian july ’24 ! ✰
❝ show me who i am and who i could be ❞
euphoriafall
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

daily - 09.07

DEPARTURE
ordinary world: Valerie is an apothecary’s apprentice, working in a little cottage just on the outskirts of a small village popular with travellers
call to adventure: Alia, the apothecary whom Valerie is studying from, offers Valerie a chance to work in the capital city with a friend of hers
refusal of the call: At first Valerie doesn’t want to leave the peace and happiness of working with Alia. But when an unexplained disease starts spreading throughout the village, turning people into zombie-like creatures, Valerie decides to go to the city, where the access to herbs is better, to find a cure for the disease
meeting the mentor: Alia’s friend in the city is Octavia, an experienced apothecary in her own right, and also a powerful enchantress. Octavia continues to teach Valerie and gives her a crystal which enhances her ability to make more potent mixtures
crossing the first threshold:
INITIATION
tests, allies, enemies: Valerie’s progress is slow, but steady. She loses hope with setbacks, but regains the hope whenever she makes a small breakthrough. The disease is starting to spread in the capital city
approach to the innermost cave: The cure is almost ready, and Valerie just needs to test it
ordeal: Valerie falls ill with the disease, so she tests it on herself, hoping that it will work
the reward (seizing the sword): The cure is complete! Now Valerie needs to help those in need of a cure
RETURN
the road back: Valerie gives the recipe for a cure to Octavia, and makes the journey back with her recipe and vials of the cure. She is stopped by groups of the infected, who come close to infecting her (again, which would be permanent and the cure wouldn’t work – I do have an explanation for this but it’s difficult to write out), but eventually makes it
resurrection: She is stopped by Alia, who was the one poisoning waterways to infect people with this disease. After a big scene she barely manages to defeat Alia
return with elixir: Valerie heals the villagers before it is too late (again I have an explanation for this but it’s weird)



“now we are one / in everlasting peace”
– radiohead










100th post
BookHuggers2022
Scratcher
34 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

lilyjen wrote:

Weekly 1:

My Writing, 151 words:
“Kay, watch this!” Luca yells, and I sit up to see him jump off the rocks and into the water. He’s been doing great since Lena and Veto taught him how to swim. Everyone is here for the Solstice Festival, and most of us are either in the water or enjoying the sun on the beach. I pull my waist-length hair into a messy bun and take it all in. Ami and her siblings are splashing around in the shallows, Deri and Levi shout crazily as they leap off the high rocks, and Nadia is sitting on the dock, watching it all while trailing her feet in the water. Xan sits up behind me, brushing the sand out of his shaggy black hair. I lean back and he wraps his arms around me. I sigh contentedly.
“How’s it going?” Xan asks sleepily.
“Perfect. Everything is perfect.” I reply. And it is.


180 words
I cry. There's no way the world could be this cruel. Everything was going perfectly. After dating for ten years, Xan and I had finally gotten engaged. Our parents had agreed and we were set to get married in one month.
And now Xan was dead.
I want to go outside and enjoy the festival, but everything seems gray and lifeless without Xan.
I look down at my solstice dress. It’s not fair that he had to die the day of the solstice. The day of our first kiss.
Then again, it’s not fair that he had to die at all. We spent exactly ten perfect years together, only to have the world tear him away from me and leave me broken.
Children laugh outside the door to our - now my - home. They have no idea of the tragedy that just unfolded in my heart.
They have no idea how a perfect, amazing life can turn to nothing in a few seconds.
A finger the knife in my lap.
It seemed perfect.
The only way to be with Xan again.

krm271krm271
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Weekly 1 / 2661 words

Name: Krm
Pronouns: She/her
Cabin: Sci-Fi
Always looking for writing advice, recommendations, or people to talk to! :]
Archive: here
Weekly Part 1 (part 1a: 379 words)

The Silent Mountains of Eldravor were known for two things: being almost perfectly silent, and being incredibly dangerous to climb. Sutton was sure the view from the top must be beautiful—though, not many have returned alive from its peaks. Gritting her teeth, Sutton stared at the vertical rock wall in front of her. Her hand flew to the maroon handle of her wooden staff. Drawing in a sharp breath, she flicked the staff over in her hands, letting it come to life: its scratches, etched onto the wood, shone with a vibrant yellow and the staff at once felt heavier with the weight of the magic.
Sutton thrust the red end of the staff onto the cliffside, watching light leak from her staff onto the rocks and slither up the surface. Chunks of stone disintegrated into gravel, blowing off the mountainside. When Sutton finally removed the staff, a steeply slanted ladder was where the wall once had been. Grinning in satisfaction, then strapped the staff onto her back and started up the mountain once again.
Just as she had suspected, the top of the mountain had a breathtaking view: lush forests, roaring streams, and calmly lapping waves all shone with the subtle light of the now-rising gibbous moon. Though Sutton wasn’t here for the view, she took a moment to survey the sprawling scenery before her. From this altitude, she could see what must be all of Eldravor, maybe beyond. A distant speck of blue—it must be the Solstice Palace—caught the edge of Sutton’s vision. The palace where the emperor lives, the same palace where members of her own family were murdered by royal decree only for their magical ability. Her hands flew to grip her staff, feeling its familiar weight. She only gave herself a moment before turning towards her next step; a perfect circle, entirely flat except for a tiny indent in its center. Sutton placed her staff onto the center and stepped back.
The staff, along with the circular stone beneath it, began to glow. A growing orb shone a radiant blue above it. Blue, shining blue, growing blue, so purely blue and bright like Sutton had never seen before. The orb swelled and trembled.
And then all Sutton saw was a blinding flash of blue.

———————————————————————-

EeveeDonut wrote:

““Do you, Christopher Smith, take Lisa Rolland to be your wife and care for her in sickness and in health?” The priest’s voice echoes off of the walls of the stone cathedral.
“I do,” you promise, the ends of your mouth tipping upwards.
“And do you, Lisa Rolland, take Christopher Smith to be your husband and care for him in sickness and in health?”
My mouth does the same as yours when I say the same two words. “I do.”
It had been a year of questions. Would this day ever happen? Would it be safe enough for us to invite people? Would we make it through this?
2020 was a year of pain, agony, pulling at hair, screaming at the sky, and crying ourselves to sleep. We had to move our wedding date because of that cursed disease, not knowing if it was postponed or canceled.
But here we are.
Your green eyes look into mine, your curly coffee colored hair staying out of the way for once. You stood facing me in your black, pressed suit. Never did I think I’d see you in such a classy outfit. My dark blue eyes looked back, my chocolate curls pinned behind my ears. I wore a gorgeous white gown with lace sleeves and a bodice that shimmered whenever I moved. We stand in a stone cathedral, the sun shining through stained glass and painting everything the colors of the rainbow. Our friends and family watch from just feet away. Everyone is wearing their Sunday best, even though it’s a Saturday afternoon. The pews are decked with white roses and palm leaves and, of course, glitter.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest says. You pull me in and our lips press together.
If I hadn’t already known, this would have been the moment that told me we would be forever.”
Ten Years Later (words: 251)

Ten years. It’s been ten years, ten years of what must be an eternity. It felt like forever, it felt like yesterday. Me and you seemed to drift in an empty space, just the two of us, clutching to each other as if we’re the only thing that matters. A dance, an orbit: my life orbits around yours, and yours around mine. Gravity forever pulling us, holding us together.
My hands squeeze the cold metal picture frame. I see us, us so different yet the love between us unchanged. You weren’t looking at the camera, as usual. The emerald eyes sparkle in your eyes that they only take on when fixed on me. The way we dance and move and flow in a synchronized harmony. It’s been the same for every second of these ten years.
“Has it really been ten years?” you ask me, dropping onto the couch to sit beside me. I hand you the picture of us. You run your finger over the glass, as if you could feel the gentle glow love between us, as if you could pull the moment out of time and cup it in both of our hands.
I take your hand in mine, and sparks scorch up my arm. You lead me to the kitchen, weaving around furniture and walls, together.
You pour us each a glass, and lift yours. I match you.
“I do.”
I remember the word on my lips.
I still do.
A smile touches your mouth. “To forever.”
I grin. “To forever.”

Weekly Part 2 (593 words)

Lucy - 2024

“It’s been thirty years since Adamus Felix, speculated to be the ‘Cartographer of the Century,’ went missing in the small town of Warlingham. And I think I can find out what happened to him,” Lucy said into the camera. They’d probably be B-roll over this part, but it was important that she didn’t mess anything up just in case. “For those who don’t know, let me recap—”
“Um, excuse me? M-Ms. Lucy?” a nervous voice piped up behind her. Lucy turned to see Nicholas—Adamus Felix’s grandson—standing next to her, drink in hand. All of Admus’ children were either dead or unaccounted for. That left Lucy with an awkward teen as the cartographer's closest relative.
“Hey, Nicholas?” she turned to him, the cameraman groaning. “We were recording.”
“O-oh. Sorry,” Nicholas stuttered, retreating into the other room.
She smiled sweetly at him, then turned back to the camera and rearranged her face into a her usual somber camera-expression.
“For those who don’t know, let me recap the events that led up to Adamus’ mysterious vanishing…”

Adamus - 1993

“Dad?” Sylvia called, rummaging through the papers on her father’s desk. “Dad, what’s this?”
Adamus smiled, taking the map from her. Sylvia huffed in annoyance. She was eight—the youngest of his three children. However, she’d always been the most curious. Maybe one day, she’d be a cartographer too. He pointed to the map, “Sylvie, that’s the world.”
The girl stared in awe for a moment, before shaking her head in protest. “That’s not the world,” the girl said accusingly. “The world is a circle!”
Adamus nodded. “Yes, but this is a simplified version of the world. See, there’s Europe, there’s North America, and that’s where we live!” He pointed to a speck just by North Carolina.
Sylvia blinked. “What’s that?” She pointed to a symbol that was drawn on the map, next to the compass. Confused, she pointed to a jumble of letters and stated to Adamus, “Those aren’t words.” It was almost a question.
The smile had been wiped off of Adamus’s face. He forced a weary grin; it wouldn’t win him any awards, but it would suffice. Adamus pulled himself up. He needed to go. He needed to find—
“Where are you going?” Sylvia tugged at his shirt, eyes begging him to stay behind.
“I just forgot to get to a meeting,” he lied smoothly. “I’ll be right back in a few hours.”
And he walked out of the house, Sylvia’s face still in the frantic spin of his mind.

Lucy - 2024

“His daughter, Sylvia, was the last person to see Adamus. Nick, did your aunt ever mention Adamus?” Lucy turned to Nicholas, who shifted uncomfortably under the camera’s gaze.
“Um, Nicholas, please. Not Nick,” he told her nervously.
“Sorry. Nicholas, could you tell me if Sylvia ever said anything about this exchange?”
“Uh, yeah. She talked about it a lot. She spent most of her time thinking about him, I think. She couldn’t accept that he’d just… gone, I guess. Aunt Sylvie was obsessed with finding out what happened. She would always talk about studying that map you talked about they were looking at before he disappeared. Until, um, she died a few years ago. I don’t think she was ever really peaceful.”
“Does she still have the map?” Lucy tried to keep her face neutral, but her heartbeat was picking up in excitement.
“I think it got donated to a museum when she died. But yeah, she kept it for a long time.”
Lucy grinned. “Looks like we’ve got our next clue.


Weekly Part 3 (694 words)
attacked by dragons
Potion Maker’s lair

Heist of a Magical Jewel - Fast Paced

Callum listens for a moment for footsteps before dropping carefully down into the empty hallway. He’s already facing the Treasure Room when he lands, so he begins running as soon as his feet his the ground.
“I’m almost there,” he whispers into his locket.
A celebratory shout is muffled on the other side—Callum assumes it’s probably Shay. “That’s great!” That’s Walker. “Don’t slow down. You remember the escape plan, right? Once you take the Jewel off the Pedestal, we won’t be able to communicate anymore, and the gadgets—”
Callum hears Shay laugh. “Calm down, he’ll be fine.”
One room. Two. Three. He swerves to the left, and continues down the maze running until he’s there. The jewel is shimmering and a vibrant purple, but he hardly registers it as he throws the explosive at it. “See you on the other side,” he murmurs to his locket.
And then there’s a boom.
And the Jewel is lying to the pedestal.
And then the guards are running in.
Callum freezes for a moment as guards flood through the entrances. Then he runs—remembering at the last moment to scoop up the Jewel and make a run for it.

Attacked by a dragon - Fast Paced

A smile of satisfaction spreads across Callum’s face as the guards fumble with their staffs only to realize they no longer work. He throws another explosive behind him, and watches smoke spread across the halls, a curtain chasing him as he weaves through the halls.
He uses a third explosive to break open the wall. He’s out. The cool air feels like freedom on his face, rolling with sweat—
A roar echoes through the earth. Huge amber eyes are looking into his green ones. Dragon. Likely set up to guard the Jewel. Even without firebreath or petrifying glare, dragons are bad news. Callum wishes he could contact Walker, but makes the split second choice to run towards the dragon instead of trying to outrun it.
The knife-like teeth of the dragon are approaching him, but Callum manages to pull another device from his bag. This one was hardly tested, but it’ll have to work. He dodges the creature’s waiting jaws and pushes the device against its scales, then runs the other way.
When he hears the dragon let out a guttural roar of pain, he knows it worked. Electricity pulses through the dragon, stunning it and causing it to fall over. This should provide the time Callum needs to slip away.
And so he runs, runs until he reaches the village and enters the pre-planned meeting spot.

Potion Shop - Slow Paced

Potions and Poisons is a small and unsuspecting building. The door croaks angrily when opened, the sign threatens to leap off from its hinges with every spring gust. The wooden frame is crooked and uneven, which always leads Callum to wonder if the entire building will collapse in on itself.
Cedrik, the old potionmaker who ran the tavern, is there as usual. Callum doesn’t think he’d ever seen anyone other than Cedrik working there—well, aside from Cedrik’s son, Harvey.
Shay and Walker are already sitting nearby Cedrik. “Callum! Over here!” Walker waves him over as if Callum hasn’t already seen him, but he doesn’t mind. Callum could use some normality.
Callum sits down in a chair next to the two of them. For a moment, they’re all quiet—and then Shay starts to giggle, which turns into both Shay and Callum laughing.
“I can’t believe you—we—just did that,” Shay’s laugh echoes through the rickety walls. As her laugh trails off, she whispers excitedly, “I mean, we just stole from the royal family and cut off the magic supply of the entire kingdom.”
She elbows Walker, who was staring off at the bottles that line the walls. Roughly half of them are regular drinks, with pale brown corks sticking out of the top. The other half have either red corks—potions—or green corks—poisons. “Well,” Walker says carefully. “Not all magic.”
Something in Cedrik’s smile made Callum’s blood go cold—the same something that made him wonder if the tavernkeeper had somehow overheard them.

Weekly Part 4 (736 words)

1 - Liz, year 1924 (fast-paced)

She’s speeding down the sidewalk. Anxiety bubbles in her stomach—what if she’s late? What if it doesn’t work? Liz stops at the door to take a breath before knocking. Ms. King opens it, grinning.
“Hello, Liz. Are you ready for your assessment?”
Liz nods, pushing down butterflies.
She’s going to become a wizard today. She’s sure.

2 - Ellie, year 2018 (slow-paced)

She’s walking down the sidewalk, on a stroll. The gravel is familiar, familiar, forever familiar on her feet. She could walk it with her eyes closed. She could make a perfectly accurate map of every bump or crack in the road. The scenery, ever changing, was the only thing that she couldn’t fully commit to memory.
“Ellie!” a neighbor waved. Mrs. Green, she thinks. She’s not quite sure.
“Hey, Mrs. Green,” she says, managing a smile.
“How’ve you been?” Mrs. Green—she was right—asks her.
“Alright,” Ellie responds. But her spirits are already sinking; she’ll have to leave the town soon. It’s a shame—she always enjoyed returning to this one the most.

3 - Betty, year 2351 (slow-paced)

She’s sitting on the sidewalk.
“Betty?”
Someone is calling to her.
Probably someone who lives in the town. Betty doesn’t know the his name. She never bothered to learn.
She ignores the person who tried to greet her, and eventually they give up.
Drop.
A raindrop falls onto her head.
Then more.
It’s raining. Rain is nice. Betty doesn’t bother to go inside. Instead, she just sits, letting the rain roll over her.

1 - Liz, year 1924 (fast-paced)

She sits down next to Ms. King. Liz is already grabbing her bag.
“What did you do for your assessment?” her teacher beams down at her.
Liz pulls out a fizzing vial. Curiously, Ms. King leans in, feeling the hum of a powerful magic.
“So, what does it do?” Ms. King asks.
Liz just smiles.

2 - Ellie (slow-paced)

She sighs as she sits next to Abby. Abby is still grinning (why shouldn’t she be? She doesn’t know.) and guilt stirs in Ellie’s chest as she draws in a breath.
“Abby… my family is moving,” Ellie says.
Abby’s usually bright brown eyes turn confused first. “What? But you just moved here, like a year ago?”
Actually, it’s been a year and seven months. Which is more than Ellie will give for most places—but, this is the town she prefers to stick around.
Ellie takes a look at Abby’s sad smile, Abby’s freckled face, Abby’s sparkling brown eyes, Abby’s curled brown hair. She’ll try to remember her—she was a good friend.

3 - Betty (slow paced)

She’s enjoying the rain.
Drip.
Drop.
It’s very peaceful.
Sparkling puddles.

1 - Liz

“It’s immortality,” Liz explains. “I tried it on a fly. It really does work!”
Ms. King flinches. “Liz.”
“What?”
“Liz, you have to destroy this.”
“What? No! This could get rid of grief, get rid of—”
“Liz, this can’t—”
The vial shatters, liquid seeps onto Liz’s shoe.

2 - Ellie

Abby looks at Ellie sadly. Then dashes out of the room, leaving Ellie in a sea of pink. The room is beautiful—it’s so Abby. Ellie wishes she had a room that expressed her so perfectly. Pictures of Abby with her friends are everywhere on the wall, strung on a wire of white holiday lights that flash and blink. Ellie is in some of the photos, too. She grabs one with her and puts it in her pocket—hopefully Abby won’t mind.
Abby comes back after a few moments, and hands her a necklace. She takes out a pen to write on it.

3 - Betty

Grief washes over her, pouring down like another storm of raindrops.
Grief for all that she’s lost.
Guilt for what she’s done.
Regret. So much regret.

1 - Liz

Cautiously Ms. King says,

2 - Ellie

“Hey, just making sure,” Abby says to her. “Your name is…”

3 - Betty

A foreign sound rises in her throat, breaking free:

x - Liz, Ellie & Betty

“Elizabeth?”

3 - Betty

She’s Elizabeth. Betty is Elizabeth. That's her name. She was first Liz. She’s been
Eliza
Beth
Lizzy
Ellie
And more.
Tears eat at her cheeks. When was the last time she cried? Was it ten years ago, was it yesterday?
She’d lived before. Now she was… somewhere in between. Living, but only in breath. Not true living.
And Elizabeth—Liza, Beth, Ellie, Lizzy, and Betty—stood.
Because she was going to live.
Truly live.

Last edited by krm271krm271 (July 9, 2024 22:19:56)


❝ Every action has an equal opposite reaction. ❞

Hey, I'm Krm!
I'm a reader, a writer, and a nerd who's in too many fandoms for my own good. :]
chrisluk002
Scratcher
19 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

-Weekly-

Part 1: Passage of Time

Partner: @booklover883322 (Check her out she's amazing!)

My Story: First Half
In the expansive grey void of the realm of the specters, Steyxtr found herself walking towards an area more lit than most others in this world. Obelisks of scrap metal welded together into street lamps. Her four mismatched legs walked along gravel pavement: two goat-like, one a tiger paw, and one sharp and similar to an insect limb. Her two arms held an amber tipped sledgehammer she was quite fond of. It went well with her aesthetic, she figured, though a dagger might fit better. Inside the lit and somewhat urbanized area was a ring of houses set up more like a summoning circle than a culdesac. In front of one of the houses (the most extravagant looking. Steyxtr had every right to brag about it for the amount of effort it took to even get the place) was a specter with diamond blue eyes and a skeletal, frosted body. His ribcage looked as if liquid gold had been poured into it and his teeth were perfectly ivory which he used to give Steyxtr an obnoxious grin when she approached. “Ah, I was wondering if you'd show up. We might just have enough time for the tour.” Steyxtr growled. “I don't want any of your pleasantries. I want reassurance. You're certain this area isn't a target for destruction specters?” The realtor smiled again. “You know very well that any piece of architecture has a lowwwww probability of lasting a long time. Our kind just loooove destroying other people's stuff for their own enjoyment. But yes, the protections I added should make it last a while. Long enough for you to purchase more effective repellents, at least.” Steyxtr glared at him. What had she expected? He was a specter of greed. Specters that held the seven domains were common enough to be considered laughable but that didn't stop them from being pesky. “Fine, charge me whatever you want, just get out of my sight.” The specter “humbly” obliged, taking his leave, and she walked into the building. It was four stories with quite a lot of floor space on each one. It had a large amount of rooms, some heavily garnished with costly apparel and lavish fixtures, others almost completely empty. Steyxtr was annoyed at all the walls, but she'd have plenty of time to renovate. She planned to live here for… QUITE some time. This was to be her new host after all. An insect leg cut out through the mismatched specter's tiger thigh, then another out of their midsection. Slowly but surely something carved out of the creature, revealing Steyxtr's true form: a twisted honeypot ant the size of a large dog, with twelve heads and a bony spine going down from the front of her thorax to halfway up her heavily swollen abdomen. The specter she'd been using as a host previously fell to the ground, and she could hear them groaning in pain. She looked back to them. “Oh stop whining, I was gentle with you. More than hosts before you, trust me.” She turned away from them, looking at the expansive possibilities of the interior for the house. “The paralysis will wear off soon. You've served your purpose, so leave. Or you may stay if you'd like. You would be witness to something truly… extraordinary. And I wouldn't mind a servant to carry out my bidding.” She let them think on that, looking for food. She would need quite a lot to start making the manor into her new body. The process would likely take years of metamorphosis, but she was a patient specter. As soon as she reached the kitchen she effortlessly turned an intricate bowl of precisely tailored fruit into an empty, shattered mess. She took the sledgehammer she'd been saving for this occasion, a little giddy for this next stage in her life. In reality this was less of a power move and more of an adventure, though she wouldn't let anyone know. To everyone else, this was her staking her claim as a powerful specter, and the start of her reign. To herself though, it had the same zeal as moving out of her parents' home: exciting and full of possibility. Buuuut she wouldn't mind the whole gaining followers thing either. She approached a wall, readying the sledgehammer with a precursor to reckless abandon. Time to ready her new host.


Bookie's Story: Second Half

Aspen grabbed her papers as she normally did, knowing perfectly well who her client today was. Ten years of on and off with one client in particular. She thought she'd been rid of him now that a few months had passed since his last incident, but no, here he was again. She sat down, annoyed and staring at the man on the other side of the table. “The beard is new.” she noted. Logan put a hand to his scruffy facial hair. He'd look like a scrawny lumberjack if he grew it a bit longer. “Yeah? I like it, but it does get itchy.” “Riiiight.” Aspen taunted, annoyed. She went through her clipboard which contained his files. “SO, what are you in for now? Robbing a royal treasury? Stealing the Mona Lisa? Too much time in the 1920's?” “Actually none of that. I went somewhere pretty remote.” he replied, testing how far his chair could lean back without falling over. “I figured it'd be a place you wouldn't end up finding me.” “We ALWAYS find out.” Aspen snapped. Where was his latest report? She knew she had it, but he had so many incident reports it was hard to find any of them. “So what exactly did you do in your quote ”remote location?“” He looked at her with an odd brightness in his eyes. “Well…” he said as he pulled out a folded up slip of paper from his shirt pocket. She was most definitely suspicious of it, but waited for him to slide it over. “Any evidence against you I have to submit to the court.” she reminded. “I may be your defendant but I cannot withhold evidence. Are you sure you want to show me this?” Logan chuckled, still trying to find the perfect angle to tilt his chair at. “I think the courtroom has evidence enough. Go ahead, defendant lady.” Aspen fumed at his little pet names, and furiously unfolded the paper, only to have her heart stopped by the contents. The paper was a photograph, taken with a smuggled camera and shot in the 1700s. Logan stood in front of a sprawling forest view, and standing next to him was a tall woman in a modest gown, with one hand on the shoulder of a small brown haired preteen girl and her other holding a healthy baby boy chewing on a dinosaur plushy. Aspen dropped the photograph on the table, eyes shaking. “Logan you… you didn't…” She looked him in the eyes. “You seriously didn't…” The only response he gave was a genuine but pained smile. Aspen got up and paced, mind spiraling. “Do you have any idea how BAD this is? You just- I can't believe you-” She started to hyperventilate and reached for her pocket, grabbing her inhaler and quickly clicking it in her mouth. She breathed, trying to calm down. “Onnn the plus side we named our oldest after you.” That was the WORST thing he could have said, and sent her spiraling again. “YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT! They have to fix the entire timeline! Weed out the things that don't belong! A DINOSAUR PLUSH?? SERIOUSLY? Not to mention your… your…” Logan watched her having a mental breakdown, for once feeling empathy for her. “Calm down, I'm sure it'll be fine. You're a great defendant after all.” “You don't understand… something like this… I CAN'T defend you for something like this… the best case I could make for you is that you were unaware of the consequences, which you CLEARLY WERE AWARE OF.” “Ah yes, slide number fifty- no, sixty-two of time travel and you. Something along the lines of don't settle down with a partner beyond your original time period.” Aspen pinched her nose and looked at the ground, her hair covering her quivering expression. Why did she have to handle this… she was used to minor offenses, not things like THIS! “I'm sorry, but you'll barely have a trial for this. There's nothing I can help you with this time.” Logan stared, seeming to drop his self confident demeanor and now looked heartbroken, but that was before he lost balance on his chair and toppled back, hitting the ground hard on his back. Aspen looked up in panic and ran to help him. She wasn't sure why, but she did. “Are you alright?” she asked, kinder than she'd ever expected to ever be to him. Ever. Logan gave a small nod. “Yeah, I'm fine….” but his tone didn't match his words. She could already tell he was worried about his family. She sighed. “Look, I'll… I'll see what I can do. There isn't much, and I won't feel bad at all if this all blows up in your face, but I'll be your freaking defendant. I haven't lost one of your cases before, and I don't plan on ruining my winning streak.” He looked at her, and smiled. She scowled at that, pulling away and dusting off her skirt. “In the meantime, take a shower. You smell like mother nature had a barbecue.” He laughed, which in her opinion sounded something like a grizzly bear, and waved to her as she exited the interview room.

________________________

Part 2: Dual Timelines

The entire park was coming alive. Lights flickered on, carousels started to turn, and the rigged up amusement park games personally turning to target him. Staring in disbelief, he barely dodged some darts that had been shot from one of those balloon popping games. He spun around but the door behind him had locked tightly. He ran for cover, but it was quickly overtaken by cartoon looking gerbils from the whack-a-mole. He kicked one off his leg, running as wire and metal tried to snare him. He looked for something to use as a shield but only came up with a few wooden boards. He looked for a power switch, a way out, anything. Instead he saw a plastic pony flying through the air towards him. He dodged out of the way, spotting a security camera with eyes on him. He didn't get a long time to watch it as he heard loud metal clanging all around him. He ran past some pipes spraying hot steam at him. It was like this entire facility was out to get him. It was out of a nightmare, and he was in the middle of it. He took cover behind a wooden stand, not knowing how long he was going to last here.

Glean walked around the halls of the old studio before entering her safe haven. She immediately heard a small alarm going of, running to her camera system. Someone had triggered Bertrum. She flicked some switches, searching the cameras for whatever had set off her defenses. Eventually she found a boy, running from the Goofy Gophers (TM). He looked thin, out of breath, and reckless. He must be new, there was no way he could have survived in this world for long, not without being incredibly lucky. She watched him pick up some wooden boards. She figured he was harmless, but didn't know if he could be trusted. Still, she'd prefer not to waste her traps on him. She went to grab her gear, grabbing armor and her sword. She'd lost her long range weapon a while ago, so she relied a lot on this now. She sheathed the blade and undid the locks on her sanctuary, ready to face any dangers on her way there. Fortunately she didn't encounter any trouble down the winding hallways. She pulled the switch and the mini amusement park shut off, releasing the sealed doors. She saw the boy, panting and scratched up. Before he could spot her she ran up behind him and grabbed his arms, stopping him from using them. “What are you doing here??”

________________________

Part 3: Pacing

It started with an innocent idea. A new project, to make one of the most celebrated events that much more magical. The small scale experiments had worked perfectly and resulted in a successful franchise of lifelike, interactive toys. It only took a few genetic tweaks to an airborne organism, turning it into a biological helium. Filling a balloon animal with it made a cute latex friend that moved and silently interacted with their owner. After many complaints of popped pets, they began working on more durable materials, and the complaints became less and less common. As the company grew more popular they started planning an event that would put them in the history books. A big parade, the first one with giant, moving, interactive parade balloons. The parade they had planned would be the most life life the world had ever-
“Sunburst?” Sunburst looked up, loosing her train of thought. She was massaging the queen, who noticed her distant look. “Sorry your majesty. I was remembering it's my birthday today.” “Didn't you say that yesterday?” “Oh, did I? I'm sorry, I'm certain it's today.” The queen chuckled, bouncing in her throne a bit. “Oh- do I need to reattach your tethers?” The queen shook her head. “No, but thank you. You have been quite loyal, and you will be rewarded in due time.” Sunburst smiled. “Thank you, your majesty. Is there anything I can do for you?” “Hmm…” The queen tapped her chin, making a bouncy squeaky noise. “I think I am satisfied. Go and do something for yourself.” “Thank you, your majesty.” she repeated again, bowing and skipping off, feeling lighter than air.
As she bounced past buildings and giggled at her reflection in them, she thought back to the queen's inception. As the mascot of the company, Brixon the Bouncy Vixen, the queen's balloon was the biggest of the parade balloons, put front and center in the parade line. Everything was set in place as they started filling the balloons with the gaseous life giving agent. The parade commenced, and it was pure magic. The giant balloons waved to the people below, posing, giggling, blowing kisses, and interacting with the watchers. It was fun for everyone, and everything went according to plan. The balloons were then taken back to the warehouse to be deflated, when Brixon started acting a little too lifelike. The bouncy fox got worried as she lost air, feeling life draining out of her, and she took action into her own hands. She swiped at the workers, sending them flying with amusing bouncy sounds. The other balloons, not quite understanding what was happening, eagerly mimicked her, tossing people around as their companion desperately sealed the leak. Workers fled in fear as they broke out of the warehouse, fleeing into the streets. The queen climbed up a building. What a pretty street view! If only they would hold a parade! One she could watch and then be in! Then she got a marvelous idea. Her and the balloons had all put on a parade for the people. She figured it was their turn to put on a parade for them!

________________________


Part 4: Tying it Together

Scorch ran, jumping from tall grass to tall grass and leaving burnt footprints with each hurried step. He was being chased, and he knew he didn't have much stamina left. He was close to his burrow though, and he figured he'd be safe once he got there. As familiar field lands came into view, he spotted his burrow. Before he could even start the final stretch, a Zigzagoon jumped in front of him and he tripped, eyes widening as his face slid across the dirt, scratching him. The rest of the pack circled around him while he shakily got up. “Where are you running to?” One of the little rodents teased. “You still owe us those berries.” “I-I don't have anymore- I already gave all I have to you-” Scorch replied in his little nervous voice. “Oh, well that's too bad. Guess we'll have to work you until you find us some more!” the group laughed and Scorch, for a moment, let anger take over his fear. The rabbit jumped to his feet and tackled one of the critters to the ground. In retaliation, the zigzagoon kicked him off, and the group laughed even harder. “What was that?” “Did he think he could get out if he got rid of one of us?” “Was that supposed to scare us off?” The group soon quelled their laughter. “Alright chump, if you wanna fight on your hands, lets fight.” Scorch lost his moxie to his fear again, quivering and scooting back. “HAH! Look boys, he's gonna cry! Are you gonna cry little bunny?” The group jeered as moisture filled Scorch's eyes, almost making him miss the blue blur that slammed into the ringleader of the pack. The laughing stopped. Scorch wiped his tears, staring. There was a riolu, stamping on the unconscious bully and looking at the others. “What?” He said in a young but confident voice. “I thought you guys wanted a fight?” The zigzagoon shared a look with each other, before one jumped out at him, trying to scratch his eyes out. The riolu caught them, swinging his arms and tossing them into the tall grass. He knocked out another one with a kick, and blocked a few hits with his arms. “Hah, I didn't think you guys would get me to break a sweat. Alright, no holding back now!” He jumped back, cupping his paws, and a blue sphere swirled into existence, blazing with power. The zigzagoon looked startled and started to run. The riolu launched the orb like a projectile, and the blast knocked out three more of the group in one go. The rest ran, leaving Scorch, the riolu, and the unconscious Pokemon. He looked him over. “Wow… I… that was amazing…” The riolu looked around, and grinned, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. “Oh, it was nothing. I saw you needed a hand and I figured I'd help out.” “Thanks…” Scorch sighed, looking at the ground. “I wish I were stronger…. I could fight those guys off myself, and I wouldn't have needed help…” The riolu looked at him, making a face and knelt down to his level. “Hey, don't say that. I don't mind helping at all, and give yourself some credit. You were super brave for standing up to that punk.” “You… really think so…?” Scorch looked at him in awe, and he gave the closest thing he could to a thumbs up with paws for hands. “'course, wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I bet you could be really strong with some training.” “Really?” “Of course! Now come on, lets get you home.” he held out a paw, and Scorch took it, letting him help him up. “By the way.” the riolu mentioned, grinning. “Name's Arctix. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

That evening, Scorch walked outside his burrow with some “cooked” berries, going to sit with his new friend. It was getting dark out and he was worried Arctix was going to leave soon. “Hey-” Scorch nudged the riolu, and he turned around. “Oh, hey Scorch, what's- what's that smell?” Arctix did a double take, looking around for the source. Scorch held up a burnt up pile of fruit, which oozed in his paws. “I um… made you some dinner…” “Oh-! Uh how kind of you-” He looked at the mesh. “I'll uh save it for later.” “Oh-” Scorch nodded, putting it to the side. “Sounds good I guess… alright I know I'm a bad cook.” He chuckled wryly. Arctix winced, feeling a little bad, but he shook off the feeling and looked at the dimming sky. “Still, pretty cool that you're cooking though. I figured you're a little young to do that.” “Hey, I'm not that younger than you!” Arctix chuckled, putting his paws in the air. “Okay, you got me.” Scorch grinned, but it soon faded as he looked to the sky as well. “I… guess I picked it up… somehow. I never knew my parents, so I kind of had to learn this kind of stuff.” “You… lost your parents…?” Arctix asked quietly, feeling empathetic as he saw the scorbunny nod. Scorch sighed. “I don't know what happened to them… I don't even know if they're still…” he curled his arms around his knees, shivering. “I wasn't even old enough to remember them.” Arctix put a paw on his shoulder. “I… I'm really sorry… I lost my parents too…” when Scorch looked at him, surprised, he continued. “I never knew my dad, but my mom raised me for a while. Then something… bad happened, and we got separated… I haven't seen her in over a year…” Scorch stared at his hero, feeling the same empathy he'd been shown. He put an arm around Arctix's neck. “Hey… It's alright. We'll find both of our parents. We could work together! And you can show me how you fight like you do!” A small grin broke through Arctix's forlorn expression. “You want me to show you the ropes? I'm probably not the best teacher but… sure, I'd love a good challenge.” He held out a paw. “What do you say? Partners?” The Scorbunny stared at his paw in awe, and quickly nodded, taking it. “Partners.”

________________________

Total Word Count: 3,585
pepper-and-a-pencil
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

bi-daily part one 09 - write an outline using hero's journey

ordinary world - Hero lives in a small village at the edge of a large island, with other islands not too far away. everyone knows everyone, there is only one market/grocery store, a couple fun shops, and a good amount of huts for people to live in, just everything you’d expect in a small town.
call to adventure - one day, a ship comes to inform the leaders of the village that all of the other islands is holding a meeting of sorts. to Hero’s surprise, the other islands have been experiencing kidnapping, or at least something like it. a couple people go missing each night. the villages live in fear because of the strange disappearances, and everyone stays locked inside their huts, but people still end up missing despite their efforts to stop it. Hero’s grandmother is one of the village’s leaders, and has to go meet with the other islands. she offers to take Hero, desperate for someone else’s insight (and protection).
refusal of the call - Hero doesn’t want to go with his grandmother. their island and village was doing fine, and Hero doesn’t want to get roped into the strange situation and perhaps go missing themself.
meeting the mentor - their grandmother goes off alone, the other village leaders being her only protection. Hero’s half regrets their decision, and their older sister can see it. when the village is asleep, she takes Hero to an old dock on the other side of the island and tells them to go check on the other islands and experience it for himself. she gives Hero an important piece of advice and sends them on their way.
crossing the first threshold - Hero sails to an abandoned island to look around (maybe they find something important or just overcome a challenge?) and then goes to the main island where the meeting is being held to eavesdrop :sparkles:
initiation (tests, allies, enemies + approach to the inmost cave + ordeal + the reward) - entirely up to you how you do this <3
the road back - Hero pieces together clues about the strange disappearances and realizes how to stop the island’s people from going missing. Hero is going to announce their discovery to their grandmother or another important figure at the main island, when they get a message from someone (a bird maybe? :>) that says their island has finally been hit with the disappearances and their sister was the first victim. in order to tell that important figure about their discovery, Hero has to wait (suspense!!), or they can go straight home and try to save their sister, but sacrifice more lives in the process. up to you what Hero chooses, but either way, on the way back there are challenges to get home (storms, sea monsters, use your imagination ^^) but Hero finally returns beat up and bruised.
resurrection - Hero gets home and uses what they’ve discovered to battle for their sister’s life!!! yippee character torture! do what you wish <3
return with elixir - all i’ll say is i hope you killed someone along the way ehehe ;D

509 words ^^

Last edited by pepper-and-a-pencil (July 9, 2024 22:40:24)


_click_
Scratcher
40 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

bi-daily part 1 7/9/2024
word count 805

departure

i. ordinary world
protagonist x is a reserved girl who mostly keeps to themself. she works as a newly appointed chemist in a lab that solves biochemical issues, currently working on creating a cure for a dying plant species (deemed P621). the lab is in an upper-class building run by a group of scientists in x’s small town. x and her team are working on genetically modifying P621 using chemical means, in order to force it to asexually reproduce.

ii. call to adventure
x’s team has exhausted all local sources of P621, yet has not yet succeeded in their mission. the highest-ranking scientists agree to raise x’s salary if she travels across to a different town, a rural location, and harvests more copies of P621.

iii. refusal of the call
there has been an outbreak in this other town, a chemical experiment gone wrong. buildings are in flames, and as far as x knows, no humans remain there. she fears a lack of safety, venturing out into a post-apocalyptic town alone. she offers to take another case, one that isn’t related to P621, until she receives an offer.

iv. meeting the mentor
x’s friend y offers to accompany her to the edge, to the border of the town. he bargains with x’s boss, forcing them to raise x’s salary even further and to set aside the money ahead of time in case of an accident. x’s boss agrees, and x and y are sent off.

v. crossing the first threshold
the two scientists approach the border, and x’s anxiety grows as she notices the flames. y reassures her that as long as she stays close to her survival essentials and avoids the fires, she’ll be fine. he reminds her that he will stay in contact with her, and the two part ways. x tries to call y the second he drives away as her anxiety rises, but there is no signal in the rural town. she is now left to fend for herself.

initiation

vi. tests, allies, enemies
x’s van is fireproof, so it becomes her safe haven and source of shelter. she attempts to follow the coordinates that her team had given her ahead of time. however, it is difficult for her to drive in these conditions. she fights off the flames surrounding her van. somehow, in the distance, she finds an apartment building that is flame-resistant. and desperate as she is, she goes inside.

vii. approach to the inmost cave
the apartment appears normal, although deserted. inside, there are only two floors and a basement. she explores the first floor, but finds nothing. however, once she reaches the second floor, she hears noise coming from one of the apartment’s rooms.

viii. ordeal
when x opens the door, she is shocked to discover that she is not alone. z, the only apparent survivor, welcomes x into the apartment with open arms. z explains that she used to be an aspiring architect and therefore managed to make the apartment fireproof before the apocalypse. however, she doesn’t have much of a purpose there anymore, seeing as the entire town has departed or died, so she resides there as the only remaining citizen.

ix. the reward (seizing the sword)
z brings x to the basement and reveals a greenhouse that is safe from the fires. in the greenhouse, z has secretly been growing rows of P621. x is overjoyed and thanks z. she decides to spend a few nights in the apartment before leaving with the stash of P621.

return

x. the road back
a few nights later, z takes x back to the border, wishing her well. x leaves with a different perspective on the town. she is ashamed of herself for leaving z there, especially when z could have a better future in x’s urban town. still, x takes the plant back to her lab and presents it to her boss. her boss, however, rejects it, stating that the lab has moved onto a different case already.

xi. resurrection
in a flash, x realizes that she doesn’t want to be part of her lab anymore and that her chemist dreams lie elsewhere. she quits her job after getting into an altercation with y, who greedily takes x’s place in the lab. x leaves without a second thought and heads back to the post-apocalyptic town. she sees z, struggling to fight as the flames engulf her. x takes z by the hand and leads her to the apartment, ready to start a new life in the rural town together.

xii. return with elixir
epilogue: x and z work together to rebuild the town and make it livable again. as time passes, people begin to move into the town, and it becomes suburban as more houses and apartments are built - and of course, made fireproof.

| ivory |
| they/them + any neopronouns |
| no explanation, only reputation |
| aspiring astrochemist + activist |

❝ who's afraid of little old me? you should be. ❞
Whimsy_lux
Scratcher
64 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

7/9/24
Week 1: Perspectives
Part 1: Write 150 words of a scene including descriptions of the setting, characters etc. After completing this, swap your writing with someone else's, and write 150 words of their passage ten years in the future.

The forest behind the white picket fence surrounding the newly built neighborhood was one of a kind. Not in a magical way, as much as children would whisper of seeing wood sprites and fairies, but in the way of imagination. The second the school bell rang, kids as small as six to teenagers tall and rebellious would run to the community they had built, away from adults, chores and responsibilities. They built their own small booths trading action figures and books. They went exploring through the bushes for treasures or simply a good place to talk. Fairy lights were strung from the low hanging willow branches, and sturdy tree houses were built in nearly every tree. It was like its own society with factions of children pretending to be characters from their favorite stories, others skating through the rough paths, some playing cards or negotiating for the latest comic book that just released. The forest was a place of childhood, where fun reigned over work, and it was a safe haven no one would ever wish to leave.

@ap0I0’s part:

My castle stood tall.

Its shadow stretched beneath the falling sun, red light bleeding through the gatehouse windows and painting us in shades of pink and orange. We raised the drawbridge, the creak of its centuries-old hinges grating against our ears. We hoisted the flags, flashes of green and white waving in the breeze. We blew the horn – an invitation of war.

I stood at the watchtower. Soldiers flanked me on either side, their rifles loaded and faces set. I turned to my second-in-command, General Silas, and he raised an eyebrow. I nodded.

He looked to his squadron.

“Men!” His shout echoed in our ears, carried by the wind. “What happens today will make history! Whether we are remembered as fools or heroes is determined by the outcome of today! Your spouses, your children, your families lie beyond these four walls, hoping that their people will still have a place to call home when dawn comes. Your ancestors defended these lands with the valour and fearlessness that we must instil within us tonight.”

Silas nodded to me, and I stepped forward.

I surveyed the men; they stood with their heads held high and a pride I’d never seen in their eyes before. I could still recognise many of them – Rafe, Wade, Yuka… They’d aged lifetimes since their days running laps around the Garrison. The lines in their face, the shadows beneath their eyes. But there was a resolve there too – a conviction that they were willing to live and die on these sands.

“With the valour of our ancestors and the hope of our children, we will fight! We will pave our way to victory,” I yelled, pumping a fist in the air, “and make our own history!”

“Make our own history!” They echoed.

Mine 3 years later:

I sat with general Silas as well as the king’s advisor, at a table with the general and advisor of the enemy country. They looked defeated in their chairs as they outlined the map of our territories. We had made history. Against all odds we won, and yet our faces mirrored that of them.

War wasn’t as noble as it seemed at the beginning, men were lost, towns were destroyed in the crossfire. Silas, adjusted himself slowly next to me, his leg was blown in battle, and it was barely salvageable, he had a limp now. I no longer had an arm.

Now it was time to write a treaty, and somehow no amount of land or reparations would make me feel as if the battles were worth it. Not when Wade now had to go home to an empty house, not being able to be there when his wife was ill. Not when Yuka was six feet still in the trenches. They knew joining the army meant fighting to die, but valor faded after victory. Now there was just regret.

We took their river, some good farmland and enough coin to fill our coffers for years to come, but in return they took our valor. This victory felt like a loss.

Part 2: Write 200 words for each timeline of a dual timeline which come together for a total of 400 words!

Kai had always felt drawn to things others usually aren’t. He couldn’t really explain it, just like he couldn’t explain why he was born with dark hair or his affinity for magic no one should be capable of. Despite that, he’s never been one to run from it, to hide. If something was calling him towards the dark corridor no one was ever allowed to go through, it would be rude not to answer.

~

He somehow got away. He was outside of the castle, the prison that had taken everything from him. He wished he had time, the air was so clear, so sweet, void of the dust and ash he was so used to inhaling. The grass was cool against his bare feet. But Kai could still feel her presence, she would wake soon, and he had so much he needed to do.

His body swayed as he put more distance between himself and the shadowy suffocating castle palace, until he could feel the sun warm and gentle on his skin. He felt the magic he had just drained flow back into him slowly, he was still physically starving, parched and aching but if there was one thing that never failed him, it was power. He mumbled a short incantation, his throat still hoarse from lack of use, and the surroundings slowly shifted around him.

The hall to the forbidden library laid in front of him, welcoming and terrifying. It was the reason he was captured, but, if all went well, it would be what would set him and all his people free.

~

Kai stepped forward and was painfully forced backwards, causing him to stumble back dazed. A barrier, I should’ve known, he thought to himself. He couldn’t be the only one to try to sneak in, clearly there would be safety precautions. It shouldn’t be too hard to bypass, not for Kai at least. He was the best in his class for undoing spells, he’s trained for this.

Again, he stepped forward, until he felt the pulsing aura of the barrier he missed before. He brought his hand in front of him, until he felt it hit a solid wall that surged hot and white like electricity. He gritted his teeth, bracing against the current of pain. Magic like this, of white and pure, was just like white light, made up of every color of the spectrum. Dispelling it just meant making black, pulling apart every thread of magic until they separated under his finger tips.

He began muttering an incantation, feeling the surging flow of magic break apart. The white under his palm began to dull away, and it softened ever so slowly. Too slowly. Sweat gathered at Kai’s brow and his arm began to shake. He could break the barrier, he knew he could, but would his body be able to hold out until then?

“Kai! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, what are you doing here?” An excited familiar voice sounded from behind him. Kai quickly let go, feeling his power drain away and he stumbled as he turned to face the prince.

“Everett! I mean your majesty… I was just looking for… I lost something and I thought it would be somewhere in this hallway.” Kai said finally, his voice somewhat breathy. He didn’t realize how exhausting breaking the spell would be until he stopped. His arm hurt like hell, and he could hardly feel his shaking fingers. He hid his hand behind his back and walked forward, trying to pull his attention away from the reforming barrier.

If the king found out he was doing this, his family would probably get in trouble too. He was merciful, Kai could even say they were close, but this was forbidden, if he gets caught his family could be punished to, perhaps even lose their nobility.

The prince skipped forward, and put a hand on each of Kai’s shoulders stabilizing him, smiling mischievously at him, “Just Everett, remember? Unless you want me to call you Lord Kalaido of House Dreamcrest. Now spill, you only get all formal when you’re sucking up to someone and you never lose anything.” He said. Kai didn’t miss how the prince’s eyes scanned over him and landed on his arm, causing him to pout, though he didn’t say anything. When Kai didn’t answer he added, “Remember I’m the prince, so this is an order.”

Kai backed away, he was never one for physical contact, and he avoided Everett’s inquisitive gaze. “Nothing, I just felt… Nevermind, I was just leaving.” He muttered, walking away. He’d just have to come back later then, and try to study more on dispelling magic, maybe if he–

“If you need to get into the forbidden library, all you have to do is ask,” Everett said, the words causing Kai to turn back shocked. Everett looked at him and giggled.

“I don’t want to go into the forbidden library. It’s not allowed.” Was all he could get out. How was Everrett, the prince of all Kalimi, so lax about this?

Everett walked forward and grabbed Kai’s shaking hand, his eyes lingering on his pale knuckles, “You know, I thought we could be honest with each other, since we’re soon to be betrothed,” Kai jolted back, feeling his face warm in embarrassment. Ever since they were children, Everett had been oddly insistent on getting engaged to him, and he was starting to think it's not just some joke.

“We’re not–! Nevermind, you’ll just let me inside? What if His Majesty finds out? Don’t you have royal duties to attend to?” At that, Everett looked back up and laughed again, warm like the three suns.

“Dad doesn’t have to find out. Since when were you one to follow rules?” He asked, and before Kai could even think to answer, the prince led him back to the barrier. At least if Everret was opening it, Kai could study the way he opened it and try to copy it later on his own. Clearly his incantation wasn’t strong enough, so hopefully a different one wouldn’t put so much stress on his body.

The prince, though, didn’t stop to draw any magic circles or recite any spells. He simply put a hand on the barriers and with a flex of his fingers, the entire barrier fell away. Kai went speechless, that barrier was the most powerful he’s ever seen and Everret broke it down completely without breaking a sweat, “H-How did you?” He gasped out and he just turned back with a wink.

“I wouldn’t be able to call myself a prince if I can’t even impress my betrothed-to-be, could I?” He asked, playfully, “Now get in quick, the barrier will reform soon,” he said and pulled Kai down the dimly lit stairway.

~

The castle was in shambles, cracks littering the walls, the paintings lying broken on the floor, the everflame candles, long since blown out, coating the hall in darkness. Kai’s heart sped up as fear crept up on him, the palace used to be a bright place flowing with magic and laughter, and now it looked even worse than his last prison. He could feel her presence stronger here, like at any moment she would appear from the shadows and he’d become her possession again. But she wasn’t in this place, she was in him. He had to move quickly.

The hall became darker as he ventured inside and finally he reached where the barrier to the forbidden library once sat. Now, he could feel the ghost of its aura, but nothing was there. Seeing it, he should’ve felt lucky, in his state, there was no way he’d be able to dispel even the most elementary of magic, but seeing it just filled him with grief. His once gorgeous kingdom was now a pile of ruins. But some other feeling found him too, small but lingering. Loneliness.

“Whenever you need to get inside just tell me, you can depend on me Kai,” the playful voice appeared in his mind. He could almost feel the phantom touch of a hand on his and he felt the tips of his ears heat up. He purged Everett’s face from his mind, wherever the prince was, he would be found soon, but only if Kai focused on getting the spell he needed from the library. He walked inside, feeling a faint wave of lingering energy pass through his body as he did.

The magic in the air grew stronger as he walked down the stairs, to most it may feel suffocating but to Kai, it felt nostalgic, like a warm embrace. At the bottom of the stairs was a door and with a deep breath he grasped the knob, and he pushed it open. This was it.

Part 3: First, think of 2-4 related story points/prompts that are each connected to a certain style of pacing, either fast-paced or slow-paced. Then, use a random wheel of chance online and input your list. Finally, write a 300 word story connecting each piece in the order you spun them in.
Fast paced fight, a slow paced intervention

Slash, parry, dodge slash. Blood was rushing through his ears. His heart thumped to the beat of each strike. Sweat dripped down his face. Maybe blood too. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to die in the middle of nowhere. Kyle and Sasha would be hopeless without him. Well more like, they’d travel all the way down to hell to yell at him for dying.

Pain shot through his face. Blood poured down his brow. His vision blurred. Focus. Kyle and Sasha could wait. He couldn’t be bested by some amateur bandit. He was the Serpent! It would be like losing to a child. Charles regained his footing and charged forward, his dagger aimed high. The man ducked down. Perfect.

Charles whirled around him, and pulled the man up by the collar, dagger to the neck. “Drop it,” He said in the bandit’s ear. He squirmed. Then went still, scheming most likely. Silence. Finally, his blade landed softly in the grass. It was simple, crude, and rust covered the blade. No good in stealing it, instead he kicked it away. Now what would he do?

“CHARLES!” He heard a voice call, and he swore. Right when he was about to get aways with it. He threw the bandit to the ground, stepping on his back so he couldn’t escape and tried his best to not look like he was just jumped.

The bushes rustled and a familiar woman came to view, her soft pink hair still shining even in the darkness, her movement graceful even when covered with leaves. “You can’t keep disappearing without telling us! I–”

She stopped, taking in the sight. The man on the ground, not-so-discreetly trying to reach for the blade and Charles probably bruised and bleeding in places he wasn’t even aware of. He knew he was in for it when the adrenaline wore off.

“Sasha! Did I wake you? I thought I heard something, so I decided to scout out camp, to make sure everything was okay. Thank goodness I did, I found a bandit. It’s good I got rid of him, eh?” He said, putting on his most disarming smile. He wiped the sweat from his brow and it came back red. He shoved it in his pocket in hopes Sasha didn’t see it.

“Liar!” She whispered, her tone harsh nonetheless. She walked closer to him, looking over every cut and bruise he sustained from the fight. She reached to touch the cut on his brow causing him to flinch, swearing under her breath. “You’re fully dressed and armed. You were going somewhere, you always are, and you never tell us where! I’m tired of it!”

He just smirked, though her gentleness made him uncomfortable. Where was this coming from? “For someone so angry, you’re being awfully caring. It’s adorable, you know?”

She let out a groan and looked at him with a scowl, “I’m serious! I don’t get why you seem to hate Kyle and I so much! If you were really scouting anything, I could’ve come along. You’re hurt! You could’ve been killed.”

Something about her words stirred something in him, but he did his best to push the feelings down. Even so, somehow, “I don’t hate you guys,” slipped out before he quickly remedied it saying, “Killed? I thought you’d have more faith in me!” He chuckled, the words somewhat strained.

Sasha let out a sigh and grabbed his wrist, the action sudden but not unwelcome. “Shut it. We have to get back to camp, maybe I would’ve been able to bandage you up if you had told me where you were going but you're going to have to wait.” She said, beginning to drag him away, causing him to nearly trip on the bandit still under his foot.

“Fine, fine, let’s go. But what do we do with him? I’m the only thief needed at our camp,” Charles said and Sasha turned her attention from him to the man sprawled on the ground. Her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened on Charles wrist…protectively? No, probably annoyed she has to deal with him.

“Just let him go, you’ve bruised him enough. He should be thankful he bumped into you instead of me,” She said finally, and dragged Charles back towards camp.

Part 4: For the final part of this weekly, write a story that incorporates at least two of the three elements that you practiced above, for a minimum length of 500 words.
Incorporated: Pacing, and passage of time

Thinking back on life was strange. Sometimes, the mind settles on one fact as the truth and one doesn’t realize it was wrong until really thinking about it. Aeris realized this as he waited for Hestia and Atlas to get to his house for their sleepover. Aeris met her when they were in middle school, and yet he felt like he’s known her his entire life.

Him and Atlas were already childhood friends. Atlas sometimes likes to say Aeris randomly adopted him, like a kitten off the street. The analogy didn’t make much sense to Aeris, he wasn’t ready to be a dad yet, but Atlas was a lot like a cat in most ways. Grumpy, cute, quiet, sarcastic, perfect opposite to Aeris, airheaded and wholesome, always lighting up the room.

And then middle school came, and they had a lot of different classes, so Aeris got to know some other people. A girl with fiery orange and yellow hair stood out to him immediately, she was a bit like Atlas, even more so like a cat though mostly in the ‘ready to scratch your face off at any time’ sort of way. She seemed to always wear this adorable scowl and her brow always crinkled whenever she was focusing.

They never had much opportunity to talk, even though they sat at the desks next to each other. Until one day where the teacher wasn’t paying attention to Aeris at all. It was like he was invisible or something. He raised his hand so long, it was starting to get sore and the only one who noticed was Hestia. He needed help on his math worksheet and almost immediately she said he forgot to carry the one.

Noticing that, he felt a little dumb and embarrassed, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. Then he got to the next question and got stuck again, none of the answer choices matched his work. Wasn’t multiple choice supposed to be easy? He raised his hand again and Hestia came back and helped him. He forgot to carry the one again. Again he thanked her and when he got to the next question and raised his hand, she let out a huff, scooted her desk right next to his, and guided him through the entire worksheet.

Her face looked a bit annoyed but never sounded like it. He probably asked her a thousand questions, most of the answers being to carry the one, and the others having nothing to do with math, and sure she scowled and sighed, but she never gave up on helping him, or went back to her seat alone. That same day, she sat next to him and Atlas at lunch without a word and somehow they’ve been best friends since.

And now at their sleepover, they were talking about the past and Aeris had to keep remembering Hestia wasn’t there for his seventh birthday or for when Atlas’s dad brought the two of them fishing. It made him feel the tiniest bit sad for her, even though she clearly didn’t mind. Or maybe he was just sad, they missed out on a bunch of memories together, especially since they went to the same elementary. They could’ve been friends since!

But it was okay. Maybe they missed out on a bunch of memories together, but they were in high school and they were making so many more together now. And every memory they all shared was precious to Aeris, he was going to make sure they had the most fun highschool life ever!
BookHuggers2022
Scratcher
34 posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

Weekly #1
Part 2
436 words
Elle - 1913
The world was gray. It was always gray in London, but today seemed strange.
Lila walked up to her, a smile bright on her face. She usually glowed bright yellow, radiating happiness, but not today.
Proof that today was gray.
“Elle,” Lila says, slowly. “Did you hear what happened,”
No, I did not hear what happened. Usually, I avoided hearing anything about what happened outside of my personal bubble.
“No,” I answer, careful to keep my tone even. “What happened?”
I am worried. First Lila being gray, and now her being subdued?

Maria - 1998
“Grandma.” I said. “Why do you look so sad? It’s my birthday!” I am so excited, but if grandma isn’t at least slightly smiling, it will be ruined.
Grandma smiles at me and takes my hand in hers.
“I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” I am persistent.
Grandma’s eye’s cloud over. “Something that happened a long time ago?”
“What?” I say again. I can tell she’s getting annoyed, but she’s about to tell me too.
Grandma shakes her head. “It was when I was your age.” Here she pauses, and I can sense her uncertainty.
“My grandma…” She begins, but the uncertainty takes over again, and she stops.

Elle - 1913
Lila looked me in the eye. “You said your grandmother was on the Titanic, right?”
Lila should know this. I’ve told her several times over the winter, both of us fantasizing about what it would be like on the magnificent ship.
What could have happened floats on the edges of my mind, making the world even darker. But I push the thought away. I refuse to accept it.
“Yes.” I manage to push the words out from my closing throat.
Lila hands me a newspaper carefully. “Read it.”
The headline screams at me, but tears are already forming in my eyes, blurring the block letters.
I wipe my eyes to clear them and refocus.
“TITANIC SUNK”

Marie - 1998
“Tell me!” I beg. It’s childish, but grandma always tells the most interesting stories. It’s the only time she seems to be alive. Grandpa tells me that she used to always be the most energetic, happy person. I don’t see how.
“It’s nothing.” she says.
“You’re probably fantasizing about when you were a fairy.” I say. It’s a running joke in our family that grandma used to be a fairy. She ‘hates’ it, but it is extremely useful when you’re trying to get her to tell you something.
“Marie Ellen Smith!” She says mockingly. “Respect your elders!”
“Elle Rose Smith” I say back, but can only hold the seriousness for a few seconds before I fall into giggles.
I know she only did it to distract me, but I can let it go.

I might actually finish this in the next hour.
#Bi-FIFTW

Wavecolor
Scratcher
100+ posts

swc megathread ⌘ july '24

weekly 1 | 3376 words | 2000 points

PART ONE — Passage of Time


My scene: In a deep blue subterranean world stands an old land -– which, as a matter of principle, sounds paradoxical. But it is nothing if not a land, inhabited by humans and the spirits of their bygone, ruled by a monarchy with a bloodline that can be followed back to the beginning of time itself.

The princess of this place, isolated from the world beyond the ocean black, can usually be found in one specific spot. Not in any grand palace or toughened fortress, but instead in a garden tucked amongst the kelp fields, hidden from view of the busy corals and sands. The most peculiar thing about this dark and brilliant world, you see, is not its location nor its people: it’s the plant life.

There is no other known place on the planet where around the corner from an an old oak tree, you’ll find a blossoming reef with silver and crimson fish flitting between the corals. A meadow of tall grasses and little purple wildflowers might be surrounded by deep grey boulders wreathed in seaweed where octopuses rest. It’s all its own.

Inuko's continuation: The world has dried out. Not a drop of water to be seen, horizons nothing but greyed green and yellowed purple. The people? Gone, long gone in search of a new planet where they could thrive again. Whether they have succeeded is a different story. The buildings? Crumbling. Once towering corals now reduced to nothing but mere bits and pieces, scraps compared to the magnificent beings they once were.

As for the plants? The flora which had made this planet the haven that it was? Mutated. The old oak tree died completely, its corpse overrun by shockingly red mushroom-esque plants. If one were to look closer, they’d notice the way the ‘mushrooms’ seemed to breathe in and out, slowly growing and shrinking with the wind. The blossoming reef was now that of a graveyard, corals all greyed and dead, black thorny vines now living inside their loops. Saddest of all, the fields of wildflowers were withered and blackened, the only colour being an unpleasant blue dotted among them. This blue was not alive; it was just a poison. A poison which had been sprayed ruthlessly back when the planet was torn into war, now lying here on the corpses of that which it killed. Just like that—everything was gone.

— — —


Inuko's scene: Rain patters on a navy blue umbrella, twinkling as it falls to the ground. Summer rain was always my favourite type of weather. Something about the humid air and the warm water just brings me peace—and a moment of peace is always well appreciated in my fast-paced lifestyle.

Living in the middle of one of the most “technologically advanced” or “modern” cities in the world has its perks. The buzz of city life is enjoyable, in its own way. There is never a dull moment—always new food, new lights, new stores, new people. Everything is new, every day. But I grew up in the countryside; or as close to the countryside as anywhere can get, given that most everywhere is urbanised now to accommodate the population. The city had given me a stable job, fun friends, and tons of delicious food, but there was nothing in it that could compare to sitting in a tree in my backyard.

I’m lucky to even walk through a city park with real grass.

My continuation: But luck, like it always does, runs out eventually.

War is an ancient thing. It might be called a creation by some, but it is more so an essential aspect of humankind, or so it seems. It falls with a roaring vengeance upon all the unsuspecting innocents, and it may render a century of peace into rubble within an instant.

Ancient things still wreak their havoc on the modern world. War came again, augmented by the technologies of the new eon, and this glowing industrial world came to a grinding halt. The horizon burns permanently orange, now, and above it hovers a wall of smoke like a curtain over the blue sky.

The city used to be novelty for me, every day, all the time. But in the wreckage, I feel as though I stand in the ashes of a forgotten civilization. The constant buzz of voices has become only distant shouts and crackling fire and bombs like a thunderstorm throughout the collapsed alleyways.

You’d think that wartime would be faster paced than peacetime. But when the air is thick with sulfur and every sound is a hollow echo, it feels quite the opposite.

PART TWO — Dual Timelines


The year is 2139. A woman with sharp silver glasses on the bridge of her nose and hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head drives alone through winding mountain roads. The bends are sharp enough that once upon a time, a wrong turn might’ve led one off a precipice. But it’s the modern era, and that danger is long one of the past. The air gets thinner as the road gets higher, and the day is foggy enough that she feels suspended — the ground below concealed by the grey, and the peaks disguised in their own misty clouds.

The year is so long ago that the date hardly matters. A woman with callused palms and hair cropped close to her head treks up the steep slope with her child propped up on her waist and a hand-woven basket balanced on her other side. When a branch snags on the basket, she brings a knee up and snaps it into a twig, continuing upward. It’s a foggy day, but she feels in her gut that the heaviness will fade by nightfall.

The woman with glasses crests the mountain road and drives until she pulls into a small parking lot. She parks, hops out of the car, and grabs a backpack from the trunk, slinging it over her shoulder. Then she heads toward the building that the lot is for, looming over it imposingly, the tallest point in all the mountains.

The callused woman in the year lost to time wipes the sweat from her brow as she makes her way through the undergrowth that blankets the mountaintop. It’s dense and humid, but the day is waning and the fog slowly clearing. When she reaches her destination — a small clearing over a steep precipice, with the widest view of the rolling land below — she sets the basket down and sits her sleeping child down next to it.

It’s 2139. The woman is stopped by the security guards at the gate, but as soon as she presents her ID, they’re laughing and clapping her on the back. She grins and gives one a fist-bump before continuing to the building before her.

It’s thousands of years ago. The sky has gone deep and velvety in the total absence of the sun. The woman whispers a prayer and breathes it out for the moon to hear. She lifts her child up to her lap, then points at the sky. “You see? Those are your ancestors. Their spirits watching us.”

She takes an elevator up. The metal is noiseless, seamless design. In one room, a screen as thin as paper plays the news, full of videos that are pixel-perfect to reality. She puts on a suit, metallic and flexible, and sifts curiosly through papers on a table. Back to the elevator. It’s already nightfall.

“We’ll join them, eventually, when we’re done here. It’s why no one alive knows what’s up there. That’s the great eventual secret.” Another prayer from her lips. The language she speaks is one that isn’t even known to the historians of the future. She stares at the stars from the mountain peak, wondering in her heart what it’d be like to touch them.

The woman in silver takes off her glasses and slides contacts in to replace them. Her eyes are wide and hazel behind them. The sky is dark outside, and the crew of her ship is almost ready to leave. She steps out onto the landing pad, the sky wide above her, and she hesitates before stepping onto the ramp up into the spaceship. She stares at the stars from the mountain peak, gathering her courage to touch them.

The year is long, long ago. The stars are gods and myths and angels.

The year is 2139. The stars are ready to finally be touched.

PART THREE — Pacing


Prompt 1: Grief is a kind of devil
Slow-paced


I never understood grief until I felt it myself. Obviously, I empathized and I pitied those in my life that suffered from it. I saw how it debilitated them. But I didn’t care about enough things for any loss to distinctly affect me.

Then I lost the only person who’d ever had faith in me, and grief’s reared its ugly head in my chest. A sea serpent, a jungle giant, a conniving witch, all rolled into this fiery bitterness that made me pale and furious. I had nothing left. I wanted the world to burn with me, because why was happiness so abundant for everyone else, while I had to scrape through the garbage to find the littlest shred of it?

Prompt 2: “I want to find myself again”
Fast-paced


But life waits for no man. I spent months making regrets, dragging myself through the ashes of my own agony, until the past caught up to me and the future screamed its way into my face. The future in the form of people.

“But what about the loss?” I wanted to ask the universe, “It would destroy me again.”

I think I heard it tell me, “What do you have left to lose?”

So I took it in stride, grabbed the reins, rode out like a one-man stampede into the tribulations of life once more. Tried to find myself in my reflection in others’ eyes, in the back alleys of LA, in the bars of Harlem, in the bridges of Istanbul and the towers of Singapore. I saw my face everywhere.

Prompt 3: “Who are you?”
Slow-paced


But rarely did I see what might lie behind it. For all my fruitless searching, I never left it behind — the ghosts of who I was, of who was with me. I tried to blow away the thunderclouds in my gut using the wind, but all I did was stoke the storm again.

I learned who I was only when I returned to that lonely old gravestone again. I felt like a pair of eyes peered out from the flowers, piercing my gaze with the determination of a thousand suns.

“Are you there?” they asked. I inhaled.

“Yeah,” I said. “Think I am.”

PART FOUR — Tie It All Together


There was a girl in Mara’s freshman year English class who never said a word, never talked to anyone, never showed any interest in the class — she wouldn’t be surprised if the girl never breathed either. Her seat was in the corner, which she looked perfectly fine with; her head was usually ducked, and her black hair would fall in front of her eyes; her eyes were often half-closed; she shrugged off questions and participated only when it was mandatory. Her name was Asra, Mara knew, but only because it would be rattled off by the teacher during attendance. She didn’t learn the girl’s last name in that class.

Mara never spoke to her that year, nor did she try vice versa. The quiet girl in the corner of the room never talked to anyone. That was, in a way, what came before the beginning.

— — —


At the start of her senior year of high school, Mara realized that she’d left a lot of things unexplored and incomplete in the last three years. Something, something — there was something to be said about the nature of discovering things just before they become forever undiscoverable. But she was seventeen and regretful, and she was too tired of wasting her youth to spend more of it on thinking about her wastefulness.

Serendipity, as it seemed to do when least expected and most requested, struck all of a sudden.

A class full of strangers first semester, a subject she struggled with, and the dark-eyed girl from freshman English as a table partner were the beginnings of the equation for something unpredictable. Mara tried her best to derive the formula ahead of time, but some things, it seemed, were beyond mathematics.

It started with, “Do you know how to answer this question?” and led to exchanged numbers and midnight discussions. Though, really, there was never a clear beginning. There rarely is for the most natural of friendships, the ones that are built to last — like mountains over millennia, or the natural goodness in people, or traditional wedding dresses passed down through generations of daughters. They evolve. They evolved.

— — —


The first snows fell upon their corner of New England in the haze of late November, and when Mara met Asra at a café to study, her nose and ears were pink and her hands stiff from cold. She was greeted by a laugh, and an already-bought coffee was pressed into her hands, and she smiled even as her fingers went numb from the juxtaposition between hot and cold.

The café was populated by people that Mara had known her whole life, because there were rarely new people to meet in a town like her hometown. She wondered, as serious as ever, where Asra had been her whole life — where Asra had been, physically and mentally, through those dreary early teenage years. They left the café in the afternoon and ventured to the park, made snow angels like children, told stories of their earlier years. Or, more so, Mara told the stories and Asra listened attentively, laughing at all the right points and asking all the right questions.

Again, Mara wondered — where had she been, when she’d still been out searching for a best friend?

— — —


“What are you doing after high school?” Mara asked in December, while the sky was grey and the stars hadn’t yet bloomed in the early night. The schoolyard was cold and empty, but for the two of them and the white clouds their breath left in the air.

“Going somewhere else,” Asra replied without hesitation, as though it were the only truth that she knew wholeheartedly. “I can’t stand it here.”

Mara understood that, and so she didn’t prod that line of questioning further. “Where were you before here?”

“All over,” said her friend, who was quiet and kind and standoffish and witty and all sorts of contradictory things, “nowhere in particular. My parents came to America in search of a new life. I think they spent a long time chasing that new life.” She paused, then, “I preferred it that way, I think. It’s cold and unmoving here.”

“I’ve spent my whole life here,” Mara said, almost wistfully. “I want to leave too. My parents, at least, saw much more before me than I ever have.”

Asra tilted her head, spun her pencil between her fingers. Mara’s noticed now that despite her quietness in larger settings, the girl was never still — always fidgeting, always moving, always restless. “Yeah?”

“They came from the South, the West,” Mara explained. “My blood goes back a long way on the land down there. I’d like to see my ancestral lands.” The places where the distant dream of me came to be, she didn’t say. The places where centuries ago, I might’ve felt free, she didn’t say. Asra didn’t ask, but she understood, undoubtedly — that was fact, clear to both of them.

“I’d go with you,” Asra said, and it’s somehow the shortest and most profound thing that Mara’d ever heard. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, but for ducking her head and smiling her thanks.

“My name isn’t Mara,” she confessed. “It’s short for Tanimara. It comes from my indigenous roots, Comanche, I think, but my parents don’t talk about it much. I wish I knew more, but there aren’t many to ask about that stuff up here.”

“Asra is from Arabic, but you know that,” her friend said. “There aren’t many brown people to ask about my culture up here either.”

“I guess not,” said Mara, and they didn’t say much more, but there was laid another layer to that camaraderie — that sense of alienness, all loneliness, all together in the isolation of the Atlantic Coast. The trees were saddled with snowflakes, the frost on the ground crunched beneath their every step, and both of them waited for the sun. They evolved.

— — —


There were technicalities along the way: college applications, acceptances, tests, grades, forms to fill out and essays to write. That was the meaningless part. They graduated after blood, sweat, tears — they got their diplomas and caps — that was, still, the meaningless part.

Here was where the meaning came in: Mara and Asra, both freshly eighteen and graduates, going on a hiking trip through the wildernesses of New England. They told their parents it was a celebration. They told each other it was a liberation. They told themselves it was both and neither. They told themselves that it could be whatever they wanted it to be. Mara told herself that it was, in a way, a farewell.

Growing up was a fickle thing, the kind of thing that Mara had never known what to do with. So was change. So were wanderlust and exploration and broader horizons.

“Do you ever wonder if you’ll miss this place?” she asked as they made their way through the trees. “This boring American nowhere?”

“No,” Asra said, “yes.”

“I want to say that I won’t,” she admitted, “because I’ve spent a lot of years telling myself that I don’t belong here. That I wasn’t made for here. But now that I’m leaving, I’m wondering …” Was I too hasty? she wanted to ask, was I too scared?

“I’ll miss it,” Asra finally responded, “Some parts of it. Everywhere has something to miss.”

Mara glanced over at Asra. “Like what?”

“The snow, the trees, and the quiet,” Asra rattled off, like a checklist, “the familiarity. It’s nice, the smallness.”

“Really?” Mara wondered. “I’ve always thought the big cities were where the excitement was.”

Asra shook her head. “I’ve always thought it’d be nice to have a hometown. One like this one, where everyone knows each other and will know each other. But that was never meant for me.”

“Why not? Because you moved a lot?”

“No,” Asra said as she kicked a rock off the path into the brush. “Because that’s permanent. I’m not a permanent person.”

“I’ll miss you,” Mara blurted. “I haven’t been friends with you for very long, but I’m going to miss you a lot. You were my first best friend in a long time.”

Asra paused, and she smiled something strained, like she didn’t know exactly how to smile the way she wanted to. “You were my first, ever.”

When it started to rain, they ran for shelter, tripping over the twigs and leaves and each other. Mara pretended that the raindrops were the first water that she’d felt on her face.

— — —


“I’m leaving so much behind,” Mara said, tight throat and heavy heart and all. “I didn’t wanna think about it ‘til now.”

Asra pressed a hot chocolate into her hands. She did that a lot, Mara had noticed — drinks, food, anything, she’d drop them in your hands without you asking, and somehow it’d always be just what you wanted. Maybe Mara had just noticed Asra noticing her. She didn’t know.

“The cemeteries and the cul-de-sacs and the parks and the grumpy neighbors.” Mara breathed in the warmth of the drink, staring at the cup as though it’d solve her conflict. “I don’t know how to deal with that change. I want it, but I’m scared of it, but I’m scared of not changing. I don’t know what I am. I sound like a loon.”

“No, you don’t,” Asra said easily, and Mara wasn’t looking at her, but she could almost hear the eye-roll. “You’re just not used to this yet.”

“Do you ever get used to it?”

“No, you don’t,” Asra echoed herself. “But what else can you do?”

Mara frowned. “Growing up is weird. It’s one moment and then the next.”

“It’s being born and then dying, over and over,” Asra agreed, and it was one of the most poetic things that Mara had ever heard out of her.

“Like a phoenix,” Mara thought out loud.

Asra snorted. “Aren’t you a philosopher.”

“I meant it when I said I’ll miss you,” Mara said, and Asra looked at her, face unreadable. “I won’t miss a lot of people. My parents, maybe. Some of my friends. But they’re less my friends and more just the people that I’ve been surrounded by for a long time. You haven’t been here with me long, but you’re real to me, which means more. You know?”

“I used to want to talk to you,” Asra revealed, “back in freshman year. I never did.”

“I wish you had,” Mara replied, and it came out more plaintive than she’d meant it to be.

“Better late than never?” she suggested, and Mara shrugged.

“I guess,” she conceded, and she drank from the hot chocolate. It was July, the air was hot, the stars were out. The leaves were green, and they would remain so until September came around again and set the colors alight. “I wish we could put a stop to it all, just for a bit.”

This time, Asra shrugged. “But that’d take out all the fun of it.”

“I guess,” she repeated, and she watched a leaf fall from the cloudless black sky.

— — —


September rose again and with it did autumn, and change, and uncertainty. It was another freshman English course, four years later. This one didn’t have any silent dark-haired girl in the corner. This one was thousands of miles away, full of people that Mara had never once seen in her life, and full of a potency that she was yet unfamiliar with.

That was okay, she thought to herself, if only because that was how it was always going to go. That was okay because that was temporality. That was okay because there were different trees outside the windows and the snow no longer fell in late November, and that had to be okay because there was nothing else that it could be.

Mara grew up a little. Somewhere else, so did the dark-haired girl who once never spoke to anyone. That was how it was always meant to go.

Last edited by Wavecolor (July 16, 2024 21:50:15)


"i scavenge the fragments of bygone poetesses, read them
aloud. my sister shares my burrow seven years late; in
seven years, the human body cycles all its cells anew. i turn
a page, whisper, the moon is set. and the pleiades."

wave • she/her • swc (fantasy) • author, poet, speaker
‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfree palestine, sudan, congo

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